diff options
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 13 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 79299-0.txt | 10755 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 79299-h/79299-h.htm | 12808 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 79299-h/images/cover.jpg | bin | 0 -> 95854 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 79299-h/images/title.jpg | bin | 0 -> 46403 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 1 |
7 files changed, 23588 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9f57f44 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,13 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text +*.htm text +*.html text +*.png binary +*.jpg binary +*.svg text +*.pdf binary +*.bmp binary +*.zip binary +*.midi binary +*.mp3 binary diff --git a/79299-0.txt b/79299-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..06c428d --- /dev/null +++ b/79299-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10755 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 79299 *** + + + [Cover Illustration] + + _GRACE LIVINGSTON HILL’S_ + _Charming and Wholesome Romances_ + + Tomorrow About This Time + The Tryst + The City of Fire + Cloudy Jewel + Exit Betty + The Search + The Red Signal + The Enchanted Barn + The Finding of Jasper Holt + The Obsession of Victoria Gracen + Miranda + The Best Man + Lo, Michael! + Marcia Schuyler + Phoebe Deane + Dawn of the Morning + The Mystery of Mary + The Girl from Montana + The Big Blue Soldier + + + + + TOMORROW + ABOUT THIS TIME + + BY + + GRACE LIVINGSTON HILL + AUTHOR OF “MARCIA SCHUYLER”, “THE CITY OF FIRE”, ETC. + + + + PHILADELPHIA & LONDON + J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY + 1923 + + + + + COPYRIGHT, 1923, BY J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY + + PRINTED BY J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY + AT THE WASHINGTON SQUARE PRESS + PHILADELPHIA, U. S. A. + + Tomorrow About This Time + + + + + I + + +The letter lay on the top of the pile of mail on the old mahogany desk, +a square envelope of thick parchment with high, dashing handwriting and +faint, subtle fragrance. + +The man saw it the instant he entered the room. It gave him a sick dull +thrust like an unexpected blow in the solar plexus. He had come back to +the home of his childhood after hard years to rest, and here was this! + +It was from his former wife, Lilla, and no word from her in all the +twelve years since their divorce had ever brought anything but disgust +and annoyance. + +He half turned toward the door with an impulse of retreat, but thought +better of it and stalked over to the desk, tearing open the envelope +roughly as if to have the worst over quickly. It began abruptly, as +Lilla would. He could see the white jewelled fingers flying across the +page, the half flippant fling of the pen. Somehow the very tilt of the +letters as she had formed them contrived to give the taunting inflection +of her voice as he read: + +“Well, Pat, the time is up, and as the court decreed I am sending you +your daughter. I hope you haven’t forgotten, for it would be rather +awkward for the poor thing. I’m going to be married in a few days now +and wouldn’t know what to do with her. She’s fourteen and has your +stubbornness, but she’s not so bad if you let her have her own way in +everything. Don’t worry, she’s the kind that marries young, and she’ll +probably take herself off your hands soon. I wish you well of your +task.—Lilla.” + +He sat back in the old mahogany chair and steadied his arms on the +chair-arms. The paper was shaking in his fingers. Something inside of +him began to tremble. He had a feeling that it was his soul that was +shaking. Like quicksilver along his veins the weakness ran, like +quicksands his strength slid away from beneath his groping feet. He had +not known that a man in his prime could be so puny, so helpless. Why, +all the little particles of his flesh were quivering! His lips were +trembling like an old person’s. He was as a frail ship tossed in the +trough of great waves. He could not right himself nor get any hold on +his self-control. He could not seem to think what it all meant. He tried +to read it over again and found the words dancing before his eyes with +strange, grotesque amusement at his horror, like the look in Lilla’s +eyes when she knew she had hit one hard in a sensitive spot. + +“His daughter!” + +He had not seen her since she was two years old, and had taken very +little notice of her then. His mind had been too much filled with horror +and disappointment to notice the well-suppressed infant who spent her +days in a nursery at the top of the house when she was not out in the +park with her nurse. A memory of ribbons and frills, pink-and-whiteness, +and a stolid stare from a pair of alien eyes that were all too much like +Lilla’s to make any appeal to his fatherhood, that was his child, all he +could recall of her. Even her name, he remembered bitterly, had been a +matter of contention. _Athalie_, the name of a heathen queen! That had +been her mother’s whim. She said it was euphonious. Athalie Greeves! And +she had enjoyed his horror and distaste. And now this child with the +heathen name was coming home to him! + +He had looked on her as an infant still. He had not realized in the big +sharp experiences of the life he was living that the years were flying. +It could not be fourteen! He had heard the judge’s decree that the child +was to remain with her mother until she reached the age of fourteen +years, and was then to pass to the guardianship of her father, but he +had thought he would not be living when that came to pass. He had felt +that his life was over. He had only to work hard enough and fill every +moment with something absorbing, and he would wear out early. But here +he was, a young man yet, with honors upon him, and new vistas opening up +in his intellectual life in spite of the blighted years behind him; and +here was this child of his folly, suddenly grown up and flung upon him, +as if his mistakes would not let him go, but were determined to drag him +back and claim him for their own! + +He bowed his head upon his arms and groaned aloud. + +Patterson Greeves, brilliant scholar, noted bacteriologist, honored in +France for his feats of bravery and his noted discoveries along the line +of his chosen profession, which had made it possible to save many lives +during the war; late of Siberia where he had spent the time after the +signing of the armistice doing reconstruction work and making more +noteworthy discoveries in science; had at last come back to his +childhood’s home after many years, hoping to find the rest and quiet he +needed in which to write the book for which the scientific world was +clamoring, and this had met him on the very doorstep as it were and +flung him back into the horror of the tragedy of his younger days. + +In his senior year of college, Patterson Greeves had fallen in love with +Alice Jarvis, the lovely daughter of the Presbyterian minister in the +little college town where he had spent the years of his collegiate work. + +Eagerly putting aside the protests of her father and mother, for he was +very much in love, and obtaining his failing uncle’s reluctant consent, +he had married Alice as soon as he was graduated, and accepted a +flattering offer to teach biology in his Alma Mater. + +They lived with his wife’s mother and father, because that was the +condition on which the consent for the marriage had been given, for +Alice was barely eighteen. + +A wonderful, holy, happy time it was, during which heaven seemed to come +down to earth and surround them, and the faith of his childhood appeared +to be fulfilled through this ideal kind of living, with an exalted +belief in all things eternal. + +Then had fallen the blow! + +Sweet Alice, exquisite, perfect in all he had ever dreamed a wife could +be, without a moment’s warning, slipped away into the Eternal, leaving a +tiny flower of a child behind, but leaving his world dark—forever +dark—without hope or God—so he felt. + +He had been too stunned to take hold of life, but the sudden death of +his uncle, Standish Silver, who had been more than a father to him, +called him to action, and he was forced to go back to his childhood’s +home at Silver Sands to settle up the estate, which had all been left to +him. + +While he was still at Silver Sands his father-in-law had written to ask +if he would let them adopt the little girl as their own in place of the +daughter whom they had lost. Of course he would always be welcomed as a +son, but the grandfather felt he could not risk letting his wife keep +the child and grow to love it tenderly, if there were danger of its +being torn away from them in three or four years and put under the care +of a stepmother. The letter had been very gentle, but very firm, quite +sensible and convincing. The young father accepted the offer without a +protest. In his stunned condition he did not care. He had scarcely got +to know his child. He shrank from the little morsel of humanity because +she seemed to his shocked senses to have been the cause of her mother’s +death. It was like pressing a sore wound and opening it afresh. Also he +loved his wife’s father and mother tenderly, and felt that in a measure +it was due them that he should make up in every way he could for the +daughter they had lost. + +So he gave his consent and the papers were signed. + +Business matters held him longer than he had expected, but for a time he +fully expected to return to his father-in-law’s house. A chance call, +however, to a much better position in the East, which would make it +possible for him to pursue interesting studies in Columbia University +and fill his thoughts to the fuller exclusion of his pain, finally +swayed him. He accepted the new life somewhat indifferently, almost +stolidly, and went his way out of the life of his little child of whom +he could not bear even to hear much. + +From time to time he had sent generous gifts of money, but he had never +gone back, because as the years passed he shrank even more from the +scene where he had been so happy. + +He had absorbed himself in his studies fiercely until his health began +to suffer, and then some of his old college friends who lived in New +York got hold of him and insisted that he should go out with them. +Before he realized it, he was plunged into a gay, reckless company of +people who appeared to be living for the moment and having a great time +out of it. It seemed to satisfy something fierce in him that had been +roused by the death of Alice and he found himself going more and more +with them. For one thing, he found common ground among them in that they +had cast aside the old beliefs in holy things. It gave him a sort of +fierce pleasure to feel that he had identified himself with those who +defied God and the Bible and went their wilful way. He could not forgive +God, if there were a God, for having taken away his wife, and he wanted +to pay Him back by unbelief. + +They were brilliant men and women, many of those with whom he had come +to companion, and they kept his heart busy with their lightness and +mirth, so that gradually his sorrow wore away and he was able to shut +the door upon it and take up a kind of contentment in life. + +And then he met Lilla! + +From the first his judgment had not approved of her. From the first she +seemed a desecration to Alice, and he stayed away deliberately from many +places where he knew she was to be. But Lilla was a strong personality, +as clever in her way as he, and she found that she could use Patterson +Greeves to climb to social realms from which her own reckless acts had +shut her out. Moreover, Patterson Greeves was attractive, with his +scholarly face, his fine physique, his brilliant wit, flashing through a +premature sternness that only served to make him the more distinguished. +When Lilla found that he not only belonged to a fine old family dating +back to Revolutionary times, but had a goodly fortune in his own right, +she literally laid aside every weight, and for a time, almost “the sin +which doth so easily beset,” and wove a net for his unsuspecting feet. + +Then, all unaware, the lonely, weary, rebellious man walked into the +pleasant net. He read with her for hours at a time, and found himself +enjoying her quaint comments, her quick wit, her little tendernesses. He +suddenly realized that his first prejudice had vanished, and he was +really enjoying himself in her society. + +Lilla was clever. She knew her man from the start. She played to his +weaknesses, she fostered his fancies, and she finally broke down one day +and told him her troubles. Then somehow he found himself comforting her. +From that day on matters moved rapidly. Lilla managed to make him think +he was really in love with her. He wondered if perhaps after all the sun +were going to shine again for him; and he put the past under lock and +key and began to smile again. + +He and Lilla were married soon, and set up an establishment in New York, +but almost from the start he began to be undeceived. The evenings of +reading together suddenly began to openly bore her. Lilla had no notion +of settling down to a domestic life. Her husband was only one of many on +whom she lavished her smiles, and as soon as she had him safely she +began to show her true nature, selfish, untrue, disloyal, mercenary, +ambitious. + +The revelation did not come all at once. Even after their child was born +he still had hope of winning her to a simpler, more possible manner of +life. But he found that the child was in her eyes only a hindrance to +her ambitions and that he was not even that; and when Lilla filled his +house with men and women of another world than his, whose tastes and +ways were utterly distasteful to him, he began to absent himself more +and more from home. This had been made possible by the growing demand +for his services as lecturer and adviser in the world of science. So it +came about that whenever he received an invitation of this sort he +accepted it, until sometimes he would be away lecturing in universities +for weeks at a time, or touring the West. + +The little Athalie had never meant anything to him but a reproach. +Somehow her round blank stare had always sent his thoughts back to the +first little one whom he had given away; and he felt a reproach in spite +of the fact that he always reasoned it out within himself that he had +done well in so doing. + +So, at war with himself, he had grown more and more morose, living to +himself whenever he was at home; scarcely ever even a figurehead in his +own house at the functions which his wife delighted to give to her own +gay set. As he grew to understand the true character of his second wife +his mind reverted to his old bitterness against a God—if there were a +God—who had thrust this hard fate upon him. + +So, bitterly and haughtily, he had lifted his proud head and taken the +blows of life without comfort. And now he had come home. + +He had arrived in the late afternoon, and found the town of Silver Sands +much as he left it years ago. There was a new thrifty little stucco +station in place of the grimy one of clapboards of the old days, but the +old barns and blacksmith-shop were there just as he left them, a trifle +more weather-beaten and dilapidated, but doing a thriving business in +automobile-tires and truck-repairs. + +The old stone church where as a child he went to Sunday school, and sat +beside Aunt Lavinia in the dim pew afterwards, with Uncle Standish next +the aisle, and squirmed or slept through a long service, looked just the +same, save that the ivy on the tower grew thicker and higher. The +graveyard sloping down the hill behind, the Baptist church across the +corner—red brick with aspen-trees in front and chalk-marks where the +children played hopscotch during the week on the brick walk up to the +steps, were unchanged. A little farther on he could see the red brick +schoolhouse where he went to school glimmering through the trees, and +the old bare playground where he used to play baseball. There he had +somehow bluffed his way into high school and finally prepared for +college. He had heard rumors of a new high school up in the new part of +town, but the old part where he had lived his young life seemed almost +unchanged. + +He had gone into the old house expecting to find the chill of the +long-closed place about it, but the door had swung open, and the old +servitor, Joe Quinn, with his wife Molly, the cook, had stood smiling at +the end of the hall a little wrinkled and gray, rounder as to form, more +bent; and there in the parlor door quite ceremoniously had stood Anne +Truesdale, an English woman whom his Aunt Lavinia had befriended when +her husband died, and who had been housekeeper since his aunt’s death. +Her hair was white and she had lost her rosy cheeks, but her eyes were +bright and her thin form as erect as ever in its black silk and thin +white cuffs and collar. She put out a ceremonious hand to welcome the +boy she used to chide, with a deference to his years and station that +showed her reverence for him. + +“Well, Master Pat,” she said, using the old name he had not heard for +years, “So yer come again. Welcome home! It’s right glad we are to see +ye!” + +For the moment it almost seemed as if he were a boy again coming home +for vacation. + +He went up to his room and found it unchanged with the years. He spent a +happy moment glancing over the old pictures of high school teams that +were framed on his walls. Then he came down to the dining room and sat +at the wide table alone eating a supper as like to those of his +childhood as the same cook could make it: stewed chicken with little +biscuits, currant jelly from the bushes in the garden, prune jam and +cherry delight from the trees he had helped to plant, mashed potatoes as +smooth as cream, peas that were incredibly sweet, little white onions +smothered in cream, cherry pie that would melt in your mouth for +flakiness, and coffee like ambrosia. + +Shades of the starving Russians! Was he dreaming? Where was Siberia? Had +the war ever been? Was he perhaps a boy again? + +But no! Those empty places across the table! That ivy-covered church +down the street surrounded by its white gravestones showing in the dusk! +A world of horror in France between! Other gravestones too, and an empty +sinful world! Ah! No, he was not a boy again! + +He opened the door of the dear old library half expecting to see the +kindly face of his Uncle Standish sitting at the desk, and instead, +there was the letter! + +He had come home for rest and peace, and this had met him! He seemed to +hear Lilla’s mocking laugh ringing clearly through the distant halls as +if her spirit had lingered to watch over her letter and enjoy its +reception. It was like Lilla to prepare the setting of a musical comedy +for anything she had to do. Why couldn’t she have written to ask him +what he wanted her to do about the child? + +His anger rose. Lilla should not make a laughing-stock of him in any +such way. He glanced at the date of the letter and angrily reached for +the telephone: + +“Give me Western Union!” he demanded sternly, and dictated his telegram +crisply: + +“On no account send the child here. Will make immediate arrangements for +her elsewhere. Letter follows by first mail. P.S.G.” + +He hung up the receiver with a click of relief as if he had thus averted +some terrible calamity, and sank wearily back in his chair, beads of +perspiration standing out on his forehead. It was almost as if he had +had a personal encounter with Lilla. Any crossing of swords between them +had always left him with a sense of defeat. + +He tried to rally and busy himself with the other letters. Two from his +publishers demanding copy at once, an invitation from an exclusive +scientific society to speak before their next national convention, a +call from a western college to occupy the chair of sciences, a +proposition from a lecture bureau to place his name on their list in a +course of brilliant speakers. He threw them down aimlessly and took up +the last letter without glancing at the address. They all seemed so +trivial. What was fame to an empty life? + +Then he brought back his wandering gaze and read: + +“Dear Father:—” + +He started. Not for several years had he read a letter beginning that +way. Athalie had never written to him. He had not expected it. She was +Lilla’s child. + +But this was from Alice’s child. The writing was so exactly like her +girl-mother’s that it gave his heart a wrench to look at it. She had not +written him since he had married Lilla. Well, it had not mattered. She +did not belong to him—never had. He had given her away. He had always +felt her childish little letters full of stilted gratitude for the gifts +he sent were merely perfunctory. Why should she care for him? She could +not remember him. He had been rather relieved than otherwise because he +had a troubled feeling that they entailed more than a mere check at +Christmas and birthdays. And now after several years’ silence she had +written again! Strange that both his children should have been suddenly +thrust upon his notice on this same day! He read on: + + “I suppose you received the word I sent while you were abroad + that Grandfather died of influenza last November right in the + midst of his work. Grandmother has been slipping away ever + since, though she tried to rally for my sake. But two weeks ago + she left me, and now I am alone. I sent a letter to your foreign + address, but I saw in the papers today that you had landed and + were going to Silver Sands, and a great longing has come over me + to see my father once before I go to work. I am not going to be + a burden to you. Grandfather had saved enough to keep me + comfortably even if I did nothing, but I have also secured a + good position with a very good salary for a beginner, and I + shall be able to care for myself, I think, without at present + touching the money that was left me. + + “Grandmother said something a few days before she died that has + given me courage to write this letter. I have always felt, and + especially since you married again, that you did not want me or + you would not have given me to Grandmother, and of course I + don’t want to intrude upon you, although I’ve always been very + proud of you and have read everything I could find in the papers + about you. But one day two weeks ago Grandmother said: + ‘Silver,’—they always called me Silver, you know, because they + wanted to keep the Alice for Mother,—‘Silver, I’ve been + thinking that perhaps your father might need you now. After I’m + gone perhaps you better go and see.’ + + “So, father, I’m coming! I hope you won’t mind—” + +Patterson Greeves suddenly dropped the letter and buried his face in his +hands with a groan which was half anguish, half anger, at a Fate which +had suddenly decided to make him a puppet in the comedy of life. He was +like one under mortal anguish. He kicked the heavy desk-chair savagely +back from under him, and strode to the window like a caged animal. +Staring out with unseeing eyes at the calm dusk of the evening sky +across the meadow, he tried to realize that this was really himself, +Patterson Greeves, to whom all this incredible thing was happening. +Horrible! Impossible! + +He sensed that somewhere back in his soul was a large engulfing contempt +for himself. This was no attitude, of course, for a father to have +toward his children. But then they had never really been his children in +the strict sense of the word, and nothing had ever been right in his +life. Why should _he_ try to be? It was all God’s fault, if there were a +God—taking Alice away! None of these unnatural things would ever have +happened if Alice had lived! And now God was trying to force him back to +the blackness of his ruined life again after he had in a measure gained +a certain hard kind of peace. + +He flung his head up defiantly toward the evening sky, as if he would +vow that God should make nothing from him by treating him so. He was +master of his fate no matter how “charged with punishment the scroll.” +God! To dare to be a God and yet to treat him so! + + + + + II + + +The old Silver place stood back from the street just far enough for +privacy and not far enough to seem exclusive. + +The General Silver who built it in Revolutionary times had been a +democratic soul, and his sons who had followed him were of like mind. +The last grandson, Standish Silver, now sleeping in the quiet churchyard +just below the bend of the hill, was the friend and counsellor of every +one in the village, his home alike the rendezvous and refuge of all +classes. Perhaps it was the habit of the house through the long years +that had given it that genial attitude, wide-spread and welcoming as it +stood among its trees and old-fashioned shrubs, with the same dignity +and gentleness of bearing it had worn in the days when its owners were +living within, as if it had a character to maintain in the name of the +family, though all its immediate members were gone. + +There were many newer houses in Silver Sands that boasted modern +architecture, and in their ornate and pretentious decorations made claim +to be the finest houses in town, but still the old Silver place held its +own with dignity and gentle grace, as if it had no need for pretension. +Like a strong, handsome old man of high birth, it lifted its +distinguished head among all the others of the place. There was +something classic about its simple lines, its lofty columns reaching to +the roof, its ample windows with wide drawn snowy curtains giving of old +a glimpse of companionable firelight blazing on a generous hearth. It +had a home-like, friendly look that drew the eye of a visitor as home +draws the soul. It had always been kept in perfect repair, and the +well-made bricks of which it was built had been painted every year a +clear cream-white, always white with myrtle-green blinds, so that old +age had only mellowed it and made the color a part of the material. It +had the air of well-preserved age, like an old, old person with +beautiful white hair who still cared to keep himself fine and +distinguished. + +About its feet the myrtle crept, with blue starry blossoms in summer; +and lush beds of lilies-of-the-valley, generation after generation of +them, clustering, occupied the spaces between the front walk and the end +verandas, giving forth their delicate fragrance even as far as the dusty +street. A tall wall of old lilacs made a background behind the verandas +at each end. A gnarled wistaria draped a pergola at one end while a rich +blooming trumpet vine flared at the other, miraculously preserved from +the devastation of painters each year. A row of rare peonies bordered +the walk down to the box hedge in front, and the grass was fine and +velvety, broken here and there by maples, a couple of lacy +hemlock-trees, and the soft blending plumes of the smoke-bush. In the +back yard there were roses and honeysuckle, snowballs and bridal-wreath, +bittersweet vines, mountain-ash trees, and a quaint corner with walks +and borders, where sweet-williams, Johnny-jump-ups, canterbury-bells, +and phlox still held sway, with heliotrope, mignonette, and clove-pinks +cloying the air with their sweetness, and in their midst an +old-fashioned sun-dial marking the marching of the quiet hours. Almost +hidden in the rose-vines was a rustic arbor of retreat, where one might +go to read, and be undisturbed save by the birds who dared to nest above +it and sing their lullabies unafraid. One would scarcely have dreamed +that there was left a spot so sweet, so quaint, so true and peaceful in +this twentieth century rushing world. + +Across the road a meadow stretched far down to misty vapors rising from +the little stream, whose sand, of a peculiar fine and white variety, +suitable for use in manufacturing fine grades of sandpaper, had given to +the Silver family its prosperity; and helped to give a name to the place +started by the first old family—“Silver Sands.” + +The meadow was rimmed with trees, and here and there a group broke the +smoothness of its green, but for the most part the view was kept open, +down across its rippling smoothness of close-cropped grass in summer, or +glistening whiteness of deeplaid snow in winter, open down to the +gleaming “river” as they sometimes dignified the little stream. And one +looked back to the owners of that strip of land with gratitude that they +had done this thing for the house and for all who should sojourn +therein, to give this wide stretch of beauty untouched, with room for +souls who had vision to grow. + +Down beyond the meadow, off to the right, camouflaged now and again by a +casual tree, or a cropping of rocks, huddled the heterogeneous group of +buildings which had come to be known as Frogtown. It was really +originally called “the Flats” of Silver Sands, but since the factories +had gone up, the iron-foundry, the glass-works, the silk-mill, and like +mushrooms, a swarm of little “overnight houses” filled with a motley +foreign and colored population, it had somehow grown into the name of +Frogtown, and one felt that if the original Silver who had held the +land, and planned the view across the long misty meadow, could have +looked ahead far enough he would have planted a row of tall elms or +maples like a wall to shut _in_ his view as well as out. For Frogtown in +winter lifted stark, grim chimneys of red brick, and belched forth +volumes of soft black smoke, which, when it got into the picture, was +enough to spoil any view. + +But in summer the kindly trees had spread more and more to shut out the +ugliness of the dirty little tenements and stark red chimneys, and the +tall grass reached up and blended the town till one could almost forget +it was there. Especially at evening could one look out from the windows +of the dignified old Silver mansion and see the river winding smoothly +like a silver ribbon just beyond the stretch of misty green without a +thought of dirty laborers, blazing furnaces, flaring pots of molten +glass and metal. It was like a vision of Peaceful Valley in its still +natural beauty. + +But it was most mysterious just after the sun had set, and the “trailing +clouds of glory” left behind were lying in lovely tatters across a field +of jade, above the pearly shadows where the river pulsed in dusk, and a +single star pricked out like a living thing and winked to show the night +alive. + +For the last fifteen years, since the death of Standish Silver, few had +looked at this particular view from the angle of the Silver house for +the reason that there had seldom during that period been any one +occupying the house except the three old servants, who lived in the back +part, and went “front” only to clean and air it. They cared little for +views. For this reason it was all the more wonderful that the house had +kept its atmosphere of home, and its air of alert friendliness, its +miracle of distinction from all other houses of the town that sat upon +it with a kind of pride. + +But on this night, after all the years, the old house seemed to smile +with content as the evening settled down upon it, and nestled among its +shrubbery with an air of satisfaction. Back in the inner rooms soft +lights began to glow under quiet shades, and there seemed a warmth and +life about the place as if it had wakened because the owner had come +home. + +As Patterson Greeves stood at the window surrounded by this sweetness of +the night, this peace of home, his raging soul could not but feel the +calm of it all, the balm, the beauty. The sweet air stole in upon his +troubled senses and his soul cried out for comfort. Why couldn’t they +have left him in peace to get what inspiration there was in this quiet +old spot for the hard work that he had before him? + +The spell of the meadow came upon him, the mist stealing up from the +river in wreaths till he felt the blue eyes of the violets from their +hiding places as if they were greeting him, sensed the folded wings of a +butterfly poised for the night on a dandelion, began to gather up and +single out and identify all the delicate smells and sounds and stirrings +in the meadow that he used to know so long ago. Even without going he +could seem to know where a big flat stone could be lifted up to show the +scurrying sawbugs surprised from early sleep. His anger began to slip +from him, his bitterness of soul to be forgotten. A desire stirred in +him to steal out and find the particular tree-toad that was chirping +above his mates, and watch him do it. He drank in the night with its +clear jade sky, littered with tatters of pink and gold. He answered the +wink of the single star, his old friend from boyhood—and then he +remembered! + +Out there was the meadow and the mist and the silver sand in the +starlight, but off down the street in the quiet churchyard were two +graves! Out the other way was a dead schoolhouse where other boys played +ball and bluffed their way through lessons. He was not a boy. He had no +part nor lot in this old village life. He had been a fool to come. His +life was dead. He had thought he could come to this old refuge for +inspiration to write a book that would add to the world’s store of +wisdom and then pass on—out—Where? How different it all was from what +he had dreamed in those happy boy days! + +Even the old church with its faith in God, in love, in humanity and +life, in death and resurrection! What were they now but dead fallacies? +Poor Aunt Lavinia with her beautiful trust! How hard she strove to teach +him lies! Poor Uncle Standish, clean, kind, loving, severe, but fatherly +and Christian—always _Christian_! How far he had gone from all that +now! It seemed as different, the life he had been living since Alice +died, as a wind-swept, arid desert of sand in the pitch-dark would be +from this living, dusky, mysterious, pulsing meadow under the quiet +evening sky. And yet—! Well, he _believed_ in the meadow of course +because he _knew_ it, had lived with the bugs and butterflies and bits +of growing things. If he had only read about it or been taught of it he +might perhaps think the earth all arid. He had a passing wish that he +might again believe in the old faith that seemed to his world-weary +heart like an old couch whereon one might lie at peace and really rest. +But of course that was out of the question. He had eaten of the tree of +knowledge and he could not go back into Eden. Poor credulous Uncle +Standish, poor Aunt Lavinia! Strong and fine and good, but woefully +ignorant and gullible! How little they knew of life! How pleasant to +have been like them! And yet, they stagnated in the old town, walking in +grooves their forebears had carved for them, even thinking the thoughts +that had been taught them. That was not life. + +Well, why not? He had seen life. And what had it given him? Dust and +ashes! A bitter taste! Responsibilities that galled! Hindrances and +disappointments! Two daughters whom he did not know! An empty heart and +a jaded soul! Ah! Why live? + +Into the midst of his bitter thoughts a crimson stain flared into the +luminous gray of the evening sky as if it had been spilled by an impish +hand, and almost simultaneously out from the old bell-tower in the +public square there rang a clang that had never in the years gone by +failed to bring his entire forces to instant attention. The red flared +higher, and down behind the tall chimneys beside the silver beach, a +little modern siren set up a shriek that almost drowned out the hurried +imperious clang of the firebell. Another instant and the cry went up +from young throats down the street, where the voices of play had echoed +but a second ago, and following upon the sound came the gong of the +fire-engine, the pulsing of the engine-motor, the shouts of men, the +chime of boys’ voices, hurried, excited, dying away in a breath as the +hastily formed procession tore away and was lost in the distance, +leaving the tree-toads to heal over the rent air. + +It took Patterson Greeves but an instant to come to life and answer that +call that clanged on after the firemen had gone on their way. He stayed +not for hat nor coat. He flung open the front door, swung wide the white +gate, made one step of the road, and vaulted the fence into the meadow. +Down through the dear old mysterious meadow he bounded, finding the way +as if he were a boy again, his eye on the crimson flare in the sky. Once +he struck his foot against a boulder and fell full length, his head +swimming, stars vibrating before his eyes, and for an instant he lay +still, feeling the cool of the close-cropped grass in his face, the +faint mingle of violet and mint wafted gently like an enchantment over +him, and an impulse to lie still seized him, to give up the mad race and +just stay here quietly. Then the siren screeched out again and his +senses whirled into line. Footsteps were coming thud, thud across the +sod. He struggled half up and a strong young arm braced against him and +set him on his feet: + +“C’mon!” breathed the boy tersely. “It’s _some fire_!” + +“What is it?” puffed the scientist, endeavoring to keep pace with the +lithe young bounds. + +“Pickle factory!” murmured the youth, taking a little stream with a +single leap. “There goes the hook ’n ladder! We’ll beat ’em to it. Job +Trotter cert’nly takes his time. I’ll bet a hat the minister was running +the engine. He certainly can make that little old engine hump herself! +Here we are! Down this alley an’ turn to yer right—!” + +They came suddenly upon the great spectacle of leaping flames ascending +to heaven, making the golden markings of the late-departed sun seem dim +and far away as if one drew near to the edge of the pit. + +The crude framework of the hastily built factory was already writhing in +its death-throes. The firemen stood out against the brightness like +shining black beetles in their wet rubber coats and helmets. The faces +of the crowd lit up fearfully with rugged, tense lines and deep shadows. +Even the children seemed old and sad in the lurid light. One little +toddler fell down and was almost crushed beneath the feet of the crowd +as a detachment of firemen turned with their hose to run to another spot +farther up the street where fire had just broken out. The air was dense +with shouts and curses. Women screamed and men hurried out of the +ramshackle houses bearing bits of furniture. Just a fire. Just an +ordinary fire. Thousands of them happening all over the land every day. +Nothing in it at all compared to the terror of the war. Yet there was a +tang in the air, a stir in the pulses, that made him thrill like a boy +to the excitement of it. He wondered at himself as he dived to pick up +the fallen child and found his young companion had been more agile. The +baby was restored to her mother before her first outcry had fully left +her lips. + +“Good work, Blink!” commended a fireman with face blackened beyond +recognition, and a form draped in dripping mackintosh. + +“That’s the minister!” breathed the boy in Patterson Greeves’ ear, and +darted off to pounce upon a young bully who was struggling with his baby +sister for possession of some household treasures. + +Then, as quickly as it had arisen, the fire was gone; the homeless +families parcelled out among their neighbors; the bits of furniture +safely disposed of for the night, and the fire company getting ready to +depart. + +“Ain’t you goin’ to drive her back?” the boy asked of the tall figure +standing beside him. + +Patterson Greeves warmed to the voice that replied: + +“No, son, I’m going back across the fields with you if you don’t mind. I +want to get quiet under the stars before I sleep, after all this crash.” + +They tramped it together, the three, and there was an air of +congeniality from the start as of long friendship. The boy was quiet and +grave as if bringing his intelligence up to the honored standard of his +friend, and the new man was accepted as naturally as the grass they +walked upon or a new star in the sky. There was no introduction. They +just began. They were talking about the rotten condition of the homes +that had just burned and the rottener condition of the men’s minds who +were the workers in the industries in Frogtown. The minister said it was +the natural outcome of conditions after the war, and it was going to be +worse before it was better, but it was going to be better before a fatal +climax came, and the scientist put in a word about conditions on the +other side. + +When they had crossed the final fence and stood in the village street +once more Patterson Greeves waved his hand toward the house and said: + +“You’re coming in for a cup of coffee with me,” and the tone included +the boy cordially. + +They went in quite as naturally as if they had been doing it often and +the minister as he laid aside his rubber coat and helmet remarked with a +genial smile: + +“I thought it must be you when I first sighted you at the Flats. They +told me you were coming home. I’m glad I lost no time in making your +acquaintance!” + +Blink stuffed his old grimy cap in his hip pocket and glowed with pride +as he watched the two men shake hands with the real hearty handclasp +that betokens liking on both sides. + +The old servants joyfully responded to the call for coffee, and speedily +brought a fine old silver tray with delicate Sèvres cups, and rare +silver service, plates of hastily made sandwiches—pink with wafer-thin +slices of sweetbriar ham, more plates of delicate filled cookies, crumby +with nuts and raisins. Blink ate and ate again and gloried in the feast, +basking in the geniality of the two men, his special particular “finds” +in the way of companions. “Gee! It was great!” He wouldn’t mind a fire +every night! + +The coffee-cups were empty and the two men were deep in a discussion of +industrial conditions in foreign lands when suddenly, with sharp +insistence the telephone-bell rang out and startled into the +conversation. With a frown of annoyance Patterson Greeves finished his +sentence and turned to take down the receiver. + +“Western Union. Telegram for Patterson Greeves!” the words smote across +his consciousness and jerked him back into his own troubled life. “Yes?” +he breathed sharply. + +“Too late! Athalie already on her way. She should reach you tomorrow +morning.” + +Signed “Lilla.” + +It seemed to him as he hung up the receiver, a dazed, baffled look upon +his face, that he could hear Lilla’s mocking laughter ringing out +somewhere in the distance. Again she had outwitted him! + + + + + III + + +Having diligently enquired what time the night express from the East +reached the near-by city, and finding that it was scheduled to arrive +fifteen minutes after the early morning train left for Silver Sands, and +that there was not another local train that could bring his unwelcome +daughter before eleven o’clock, Patterson Greeves ate his carefully +prepared breakfast with a degree of comfort and lingered over his +morning paper. + +He had in a long-distance call for the principal of a well-known and +exclusive girls’ school in New England, and he was quite prepared to +take the child there at once without even bringing her to the house. He +had already secured by telephone the service of an automobile to convey +them at once back to the city, that she might be placed on the first +train possible for Boston. It remained but to arrange the preliminaries +with the principal, who was well known to him. He anticipated no +difficulty in entering his daughter even though it was late in the +spring, for he knew that it was likely that a personally conducted tour +of some sort, or a summer camp, could possibly be arranged through this +school. These plans were the result of a night of vigil. So he read his +paper at ease with himself and the world. For the moment he had +forgotten the possible advent of his elder daughter. + +His breakfast finished, he adjourned to the library to await the +long-distance call. The scattered mail on the desk at once recalled +Silver and her suggestion that she would like to visit him. He frowned +and sat down at the desk, drawing pen and paper toward him. That must be +stopped at once. He had not time nor desire to break the strangeness +between them at present. In fact his very soul shrank from seeing +Alice’s child, the more so since he had become so aware of Lilla’s +child’s approach. + +He wrote a kind if somewhat brusque note to Silver saying that she had +better defer her visit to some indefinite period for the present, as he +was suddenly called away on business—his half intention to take Athalie +to her school served as excuse for that statement to his dulled +conscience—and that he was deeply immersed in important literary work +in which he could not be disturbed. It sounded well as he read it over +and he felt decidedly pleased with himself for having worded it so +tactfully. He resolved to send it by special delivery to make sure that +it reached her before she started. And by the way—what was it she said +about taking a position? Of course that must not be allowed. He was +fully able and willing to support her. And she could not be too old to +go to school. He would arrange for that—not in the school where Athalie +was to be, however! Perhaps she herself would have a preference. He +would ask her. He reached his hand for her letter, which lay on the top +of the pile where he had dropped it the night before, for both Molly and +Anne had been well trained by the former master that the papers on that +desk were sacred and never to be touched. + +As he drew the letter toward him and his eyes fell again upon those +unaccustomed words: “Dear Father,” something sad and sweet like a +forgotten thrill of tenderness went through him, and the face of his +beautiful young wife came up before his vision as it had not come now in +years. + +But before he could read further, or even realize that he had not +finished reading the letter the day before, the telephone rang out +sharply in the prolonged titillation that proclaims a long-distance +call, and he dropped the paper and reached for the receiver. + +It was the distant school, and the principal for whom they had been +searching; but she did not fall in with Patterson Greeves’ plans with +readiness, as he had expected, although she at once recognized him. +Instead, her voice was anxious and distraught and she vetoed his +arrangements emphatically. An epidemic of measles had broken out in the +school in most virulent form. The school was under strict quarantine, +and it was even doubtful, as it was now so late in the spring, whether +they would open again until fall. They could not possibly accept his +daughter under the circumstances. + +In the midst of his dismay there came an excited tapping at the door, +following certain disturbing sounds of commotion in the hall, which had +not yet been fully analyzed in his consciousness, but which rushed in +now to his perturbed mind as if they had been penned up while he +telephoned and lost none of their annoying element by the fact that they +were but memories. + +He called “Come in,” and Anne Truesdale in her immaculate morning alpaca +and stiff white apron and cuffs stood before him, a bright spot of color +in her already rosy cheeks, and a look of indignant excitement in her +dignified blue eyes. + +“If you please, Master Pat—” she began hurriedly, with a furtive glance +over her shoulder, “there’s a strange young woman at the front door—” + +“Hello! Daddy Pat!” blared out a hoydenish young voice insolently, and +the young woman, who had stayed not on the order of her going, appeared +behind the horrified back of the housekeeper. + +For Athalie Greeves, never at a loss for a way to carry out her designs +and get all the fun there was going, had not waited decorously at the +city station for the train which should have brought her to Silver +Sands, but had called from his early morning slumbers a one-time lover +of her mother whose address she looked up in the telephone book, and +made him bring her out in his automobile. In his luxurious car he was +even now disappearing cityward having an innate conviction that he and +her father would not be congenial. + +Patterson Greeves swung around sharply, his hand still on the telephone, +his mind a startled blank, and stared. + +Anne Truesdale stiffened into indignant reproof, her hands clasped +tightly at her white-aproned waist, her chin drawn in like a balky +horse, her nostrils spread in almost a snort, as the youngest daughter +of the house sauntered nonchalantly into the dignified old library and +cast a quick, appraising glance about, levelling her gaze on her father +with a half-indifferent impudence. + +“Bring my luggage right in here, Quinn! Didn’t you say your name was +Quinn?” she ordered imperiously. “I want to show dad some things I’ve +brought. Bring them in _here_ I said! Didn’t you hear me?” + +The old servitor hovered anxiously in the offing, a pallor in his +humble, intelligent face, a troubled eye on his master’s form in the dim +shadow of the book-lined room. He turned a deprecatory glance on Anne +Truesdale, as he entered with two bags, a shiny suitcase, a hat-box, a +tennis-racket, and a bag of golf-sticks, looking for an unobtrusive +corner in which to deposit them and thereby stop the noisy young tongue +which seemed to him to be committing irretrievable indignities to the +very atmosphere of the beloved old house. + +“Take them out, Joe,” said Anne Truesdale in her quiet voice of command. + +“No, you _shan’t_ take them out!” screamed Athalie, stamping her heavy +young foot indignantly. “I want them here! Put them right down there! +_She_ has nothing to say about it!” + +Joe vibrated from the library to the hall and back again uncertainly and +looked pitifully toward his master. + +“Put the things in the hall, Joe, and then go out and shut the door!” +ordered the master with something in his controlled voice that caused +his daughter to look at him with surprise. Joe obeyed, Anne Truesdale +thankfully melted away, and Patterson Greeves found himself in the +library alone with his child. + +Athalie faced him with storm in her face. + +“I think you are a perfectly horrid old thing!” she declared +hysterically with a look in her eyes that at once reminded him of her +mother. “I said I wanted those things in here and _I’m going to have +them_! I guess they are _my_ things, aren’t they?” She faced him a +second defiantly and then opened the door swiftly, thereby causing a +scuttling sound in the back hall near the kitchen entrance. Vehemently +she recovered her property, banging each piece down with unnecessary +force and slamming the door shut with a comical grimace of triumph +toward the departed servants. + +“Now, we’re ready to talk!” she declared, with suddenly returning good +humor, as she dropped to the edge of a large leather chair and faced her +father again. + +Patterson Greeves was terribly shaken and furiously angry, yet he +realized fully that he had the worst of the argument with this child as +he had nearly always had with her mother, and he felt the utter futility +of attempting further discipline until he had a better grasp of the +situation. As he sat in his uncle’s comfortable leather chair, +entrenched as it were in this fine old dignified castle, it seemed +absurd that a mere child could rout him, could so put his courage to +flight and torment his quiet world. He turned his attention upon her as +he might have turned it upon some new specimen of viper that had crossed +his path and become annoying; and once having looked, he stared and +studied her again. + +There was no denying that Athalie Greeves was pretty so far as the +modern world counts prettiness. Some of the girls in her set called her +“simply stunning,” and the young men with whom she was contemporary +called her a “winner.” She was fair and fat and fourteen with handsome +teeth and large, bold, dark eyes. But the lips around the teeth were too +red, and the lashes around the eyes overladen, I might almost have said +_beaded_. Her fairness had been accentuated to the point of ghastliness, +with a hectic point in each cheek which gave her the appearance of an +amateur pastel portrait. + +She wore a cloth suit of bright tan, absurdly short and narrow for her +size. A dashing little jade-green suède hat beaded in black and white +sat jauntily on a bushy head of bobbed and extraordinarily electrified +black hair, and whatever kind of eyebrows she had possessed had been +effectually plucked and obliterated, their substitutes being so finely +pencilled and so far up under the overshadowing hat-brim as to be +practically out of the running. She wore flesh-colored silk stockings +and tall, unbuckled, flapping galoshes with astrakhan tops, out of which +her plump silken ankles rose sturdily. Her father sat and stared at her +for a full minute. No biological specimen had ever so startled or +puzzled him. Was this then his child? His and Lilla’s? How unexpected! +How impossible! How terrible! + +It wasn’t as if she were just Lilla, made young again, pretty and wily +and sly, with a delicate feminine charm and an underlying falseness. +That was what he had expected. That was what he was prepared for. That +he could have borne. But this creature was gross—coarse—openly brazen, +almost as if she had reverted to primeval type, and yet—vile thought! +he could see all the worst traits of himself stamped upon that plump, +painted young face. + +Athalie gave a self-conscious tilt to her head and enquired in a +preening voice: + +“Well, how do you like me?” + +The man started, an unconscious moan coming to his lips, and dropped his +head into his hands; then swung himself up angrily and strode back and +forth across the far end of the room, glaring at her as he walked and +making no reply. It was obvious that he was forcing himself to study her +in detail, and as his eyes dropped to her feet he paused in front of her +and enquired harshly: + +“Haven’t you any—any _hosiery_?” + +Perhaps the good attendant angels smothered a hysterical laugh, but +Athalie, quite wrought upon in her nerves by this time and not a little +hurt, stretched out a plump silken limb indignantly. + +“I should like to know what fault you have to find with my stockings?” +she blazed angrily. “They cost four dollars and a half a pair and are +imported, with hand-embroidered clocks—” + +He looked down at the smooth silk ankles helplessly. + +“You are too stout to wear things like that!” he said coldly, and let +his glance travel up again to her face. “How did they let you get so +stout anyway? It can’t be natural at your age!” + +The full painted lips trembled for an instant and real red flared under +the powder of the cheek, then she gave her head a haughty toss. + +“You aren’t very polite, are you? Lilla said I’d find you that way, but +I thought maybe you had changed since she saw you. She told me—” + +“You needn’t trouble to mention anything that your mother said about me. +I shouldn’t care to hear it,” he said coldly. + +“Well, Lilla’s my mother, if I have come to live with you, and I shall +mention what I like. You can’t stop me!” + +There was defiance in the tone and in her glance that swept remindingly +toward the pile of luggage at her feet, and he veered away from another +encounter. + +“Do you always call your mother by her first name? It doesn’t sound very +respectful.” + +“Oh, bother respect! Why should I respect her? Certainly, I call her +Lilla! I had it in mind to call you Pat too, if I liked you well enough, +but if you keep on like this I’ll call you Old Greeves! So there! Oh, +heck! This isn’t beginning very well—” she pouted, “Let’s start over +again. Here Pat, let’s sit down and be real friendly. Have a cigarette?” +and she held forth a gay little gold case with a delightfully friendly +woman-of-the-world air, much as her mother might have done. As she stood +thus poised with the golden bauble held in her exquisitely manicured +rose-leaf hands she seemed the epitome of all that was insolent and +sensual to her horrified and disgusted father. He felt like striking her +down. He wanted to curse her mother for allowing her to grow up into +this, but most of all he felt a loathing for himself that he had made +himself responsible for this abnormal specimen of womanhood. Scarcely +more than a child and yet wearing the charm of the serpent with ease. + +Then suddenly the shades of all the Silvers looking down upon him from +the painted canvasses on the wall, the sweetly highborn gentlewomen and +gentlemen of strong, fine character, seemed to rise in audience on the +scene and bring him back to the things he had been taught and had always +deep down in his heart believed, no matter how far he had wandered from +their practice. And here was this child, scarcely turned toward +womanhood, daring to offer her father a cigarette, daring to strike a +match pertly and light one for herself; here in this old Silver house, +where grandmothers of four generations had been _ladies_, and where dear +Aunt Lavinia had taught him his golden texts every Sunday +morning—taught him about purity and righteousness. Oh! it was all her +sweet, blind innocence—her ignorance of the world, of course, yet sweet +and wonderful. And to have this child—_his child_ transgressing the old +order in her playful, brazen way! It was too terrible! His child! Flesh +of his flesh! + +“Athalie!” + +“Oh, don’t you _smoke_? I thought all real _men_ smoked. Lilla +said”—she pursed her lips and lifted her cigarette prettily. + +“Athalie!” he thundered, “Never mind what your mother said! Don’t you +dare to smoke in this house! Don’t you ever let me see you—” + +“Oh, very well! Shall I go outside? Perhaps you’ll take a little walk +down the street with me—” + +The child was roused. There were sparks in her dark eyes. She looked +very much like the old Lilla he knew so well. This was not the way to +handle her. He was bungling everything. What should he do? He must +establish his authority. The court had handed her over to his charge. +What a mistake! He should have had her when she was young if he was ever +to hope to do anything with her. But he must do _something_. He reached +out a sudden hand and took possession of the cigarette and case before +the surprised girl had time to protest. + +“Those are not fit things for a young girl to have,” he said sternly. +“While you are under my protection it must not happen again. Do you +understand?” + +She pouted. + +“You wouldn’t talk!” + +“I can’t talk to you while you look like that,” he said with a note of +desperation in his voice, “Go upstairs and wash your face. And haven’t +you got some less outlandish clothes? You look like a circus child. I’m +ashamed to look at you!” + +He stepped to the wall and rang a bell while Athalie, after staring at +him in utter dismay burst into sudden and appalling tears. Almost +simultaneously Anne Truesdale appeared at the door with a white, +frightened face looking from one to the other. Patterson Greeves +registered a distinct wish that a portion of the floor might open and +swallow him forever, but he endeavored to face the situation like a +Silver and a master in his own house. + +“This is my daughter Athalie, Mrs. Truesdale, and she wishes to wash her +face and change her apparel. Will you kindly show her to a room and see +that her bags are brought up and that she has everything she needs? I +did not expect her to arrive so soon or I would have given you warning. +It was my intention to keep her in school—” + +“Oh-h-h-h!” moaned Athalie into a scrap of a green and black bordered +handkerchief—“O—hhhhh!” + +Anne Truesdale looked at the plump tailored shoulders as she might have +looked at a stray cat whom she was told to put out of the room, and then +rose to the occasion. She slid a firm but polite arm around the +reluctant guest and drew her from the room, and Patterson Greeves shut +the library door and dropped with a groan into his chair, burying his +face in his hands and wishing he had never been born. Somehow the sight +of his daughter weeping, with her foolish frizzled hair and her fat, +flesh-colored silk legs in their flapping galoshes, being led away by +“Trudie,” as he always used to call the housekeeper, made him suddenly +recognize her species. She was a flapper! The most despicable thing +known to girlhood, according to his bred and inherited standards. The +thing that all the newspapers and magazines held in scorn and dread; the +thing that all noted people were writing about and trying to eradicate; +the thing they were afraid of and bowed to, and let be; and his child +was a _flapper_! + +Just as after long and careful study a new specimen would at last +unexpectedly reveal some trait by which he could place it, so now his +child had shown forth her true character. + +It was terrible enough to acknowledge; it was easy enough to understand +how it had come about; but the thing to consider was, what was he going +to do about it? How could he do anything? It was too late! And God +thought men would believe in Him when He let things like this happen! +Somehow all his bitterness of the years seemed to have focussed on this +one morning. All that he called in scorn the “outraged faith of his +childhood” seemed to rise and protest against his fate, proving that he +still had some faith lurking in his soul, else how could he blame a God +who did not exist? + +He rose and paced his study back and forth, dashing his rumpled hair +from his forehead, glaring about on the familiar old room that had +always spoken to him of things righteous and orderly, as if in some way +it too, with God, were to blame for what had befallen him. He had taken +perhaps three turns back and forth in his wrath and perplexity when he +was aware that a light tapping on the door had been going on for perhaps +several seconds. He swung to the door and jerked it angrily open. Had +that girl concluded her toilet so soon, before he had thought what to do +about her? Well, he would tell her exactly what she was, what a disgrace +to a fine old family; what a—mistake—what a—! + +In the hall stood Anne Truesdale with deprecatory air, her fingers +working nervously with the corner of her apron, which she held as if to +keep her balance. Her beloved Master Pat had turned into an inscrutable +old ogre whom she loved, but scarcely dared to brave. She felt assured, +in view of the modern young specimen upstairs, that he had reason to be +in this mood, and she but adored and feared him the more, after the +old-fashioned feminine way, that he had it in him to storm around in +this fashion; but she was frightened to death to have to deal with him +while it lasted. Behind her, smiling quite assured, and splendid to look +upon this morning with the soot washed from his face, and his big body +attired fittingly, stood the minister, a book in his hand and a look of +pleasant anticipation in his face. + +Then Patterson Greeves remembered as in a dream of something far past +that he had invited the minister to take a hike with him this morning +and afterwards lunch with him. The boy Blink was to have gone along. How +fair and innocent the prospect compared to what had now befallen him! He +looked as one who was about to tear his hair, so helpless and tragic his +eyes. + + + + + IV + + +“Oh! It’s you!” There was at least a wistfulness in his tone. + +“Good morning!” said the minister. “Am I—? Perhaps our plans are not +convenient for you this morning—?” + +“Oh!” said Patterson Greeves stupidly, as if he had just remembered. + +“You look done out, man! Is anything the matter? Can I help? If not, +sha’n’t I just leave this book I promised and run along till another +time?” + +“No. Come in!” said Patterson Greeves with a desperate look in his face. +“You’re a minister! It’s your business to help people in trouble. I’m in +the deuce of a mess and no mistake. You can’t help me out. Nobody can. +But it would afford me some satisfaction to ask you how the devil you +can go around preaching the love of God when He allows such Satanic +curses to fall on men?” + +Bannard gave him a quick, keen glance, and set his clean-shaven lips in +a firm line as he threw his hat on the hall console and stepped inside +the door. + +Anne Truesdale retreated hastily to the pantry and paused to wipe a +frightened tear from her white cheek. The other servants must not +suspect what had befallen the master. Was this then the secret of the +sadness of his face, that he had forsaken the faith of his fathers and +taken to cursing and swearing. It made her shiver even yet to remember +how familiarly he had spoken of the devil. Dear old Mr. Standish Silver! +It was well he was not present to be grieved! And little pretty Miss +Lavinia! If she had heard her darling’s voice talking that way about her +heavenly Father it would have killed her outright! Just have killed her +outright! Oh, it was sad times, and the world a growing weary instead of +bright. And she so glad but the day before that Master Pat was coming +home! Poor Master Pat! She must order waffles for lunch. He was always +so fond of them. She must do all in her power to win him back to right +living. It must have been that awful war! They said some of the officers +were that careless! And of course he’d been a long time away from home. +Poor Master Pat! She must pray for him humbly. There was no one else +left to do it. That was what Miss Lavinia would have done, crept to her +old padded wing-chair and knelt long with the shades drawn. So she +always did when Master Pat was a boy and did wrong. There was the time +when he told his first lie. How she minded that day. Miss Lavinia ate +nothing for a whole four and twenty hours, just fasted and prayed. + +She too would fast, and would go to Miss Lavinia’s room and the old +wing-chair, and draw the shades and lock the door, and pray for the +master! Perhaps if she fasted, humble though she was, her prayer might +be heard and answered. She would ask for the sake of Miss Lavinia and +his uncle Silver. They had always stood well with Heaven. They must be +beloved of the Lord. It would be terrible to have their nephew come out +an unbeliever in these days of unbelief. The family must not be +disgraced. But she must not let the servants know that she was fasting. +They must not find that aught was amiss with the master. Surely the Lord +would hear and all might yet be well in spite of the awful young woman +that had arrived, apparently to remain. + +So she scuttled away to Miss Lavinia’s sunny south bedroom and locked +the door. + +Downstairs Patterson Greeves gave his guest a chair and began to pour +out invectives against God. + +Bannard listened a moment, head up, a startled, searching, almost +pitying look in his eyes, then he arose with an air of decision. + +“Look here, Greeves, you can’t expect me to sit quietly and listen while +you abuse my best Friend! I can’t do it!” and he turned sharply toward +the door. + +Patterson Greeves stared at his guest with surprise and a growing sanity +and apology in his eyes. + +“I beg your pardon,” he said brusquely. “I suppose God must be that to +you or you wouldn’t be in the business you are. I hadn’t realized that +there was anybody with an education left on earth that still felt that +way, but you look like an honest man. Sit down and tell me how on earth +you reconcile this hell we live in with a loving and kindly Supreme +Being.” + +“You don’t look as if you were in the mood for a discussion on theology +to do you any good now,” answered the younger man quietly. “I would +rather wait until another time for a talk like that. Is there anything I +can do for you, friend, or would you rather I got out of your way just +now?” + +“No, stay if you don’t mind my ravings. I have an idea you’d be a pretty +good friend to have and I’ve been hard hit. The fact is, I suppose I’ve +been a good deal of a fool! I married again. A woman who was utterly +selfish and unprincipled. We’ve been divorced for years. Now suddenly +our daughter is thrust back upon me, a decree of the court I’d utterly +forgotten! She arrived without warning and she’s the most impossible +specimen of young womanhood I’ve ever come across—! If a loving God +could ever—! What are you smiling about man? It’s no joke I’m telling +you—!” + +“I was thinking how much you remind me of a man I have been reading +about in the Bible. Jehoram is his name. Ever make his acquaintance?” + +“Not especially,” answered Greeves coldly, with evident annoyance at the +digression. “He was one of those old Israelitish kings, wasn’t he?” + +“Yes, a king, but he blamed God for the results of his own action.” + +“Mm! Yes. I see! But how am I to blame for having a daughter like that? +Didn’t God make her what she is? Why couldn’t she have been the right +kind of a girl? How was I to blame for that?” + +“You married a woman whom you described as utterly selfish and +unprincipled, didn’t you? You left the child in her keeping during these +first formative years. What else could you expect but that she would be +brought up in a way displeasing to yourself?” + +The scientist took three impatient turns up and down the room before he +attempted to answer. + +“Man! How could I know? Such a thing wasn’t in my thoughts—! I insist +it was a dastardly thing to wreak vengeance on me in this way. No, you +can’t convince me. This thing came from your God—if there is such a +being. I’ve been watching and waiting through the years for a turn in my +luck to prove that the God I’d been taught loved me had any thought +toward me. But this is too much. Why should I wait any longer? I _know_! +God, if there is a God, is a God of hate rather than love.” + +“Jehoram’s exact words,” said the minister. “‘This evil is of the Lord. +Why should I wait for the Lord any longer?’” + +“Exactly!” said Greeves. “Don’t you see? Jehoram was a wise man. I +respect him.” + +“But he found he was mistaken, you know. Wait till ‘tomorrow about this +time’ and perhaps you too will find it out. God’s purposes always work +out—” + +Patterson Greeves wheeled and looked sharply at his visitor. “What do +you mean, ‘tomorrow about this time’?” + +“Go read the story of Jehoram and you’ll understand. The city was in a +state of siege. The people were starving; crazed by hunger, were eating +their own children, and appealing to the king to settle their demoniacal +quarrels. The king was blaming God for it all, and suddenly the prophet +appeared and told him that ‘tomorrow about this time’ there would be +plenty to eat and cheap enough for everybody. How do you know but +tomorrow about this time God may have relief and joy all planned and on +the way?” + +Greeves turned away impatiently and began his angry pacing of the room +again. + +“Oh, that’s the kind of idealism you were prating about last night with +your dreams that God was working out His purposes for the laboring +classes and all that bosh! Excuse me, but I don’t believe any such rot +any more for the classes or the nations than I do for the individual. +Take myself for instance. If I don’t send off a letter I just wrote to +stop it, by tomorrow about this time I may have a worse mess on my hands +than I have now. I tell you your God has it in for me! I didn’t tell you +I had another daughter, did I? Well, I have, and she’s taken it into her +head to come here also. Here! Read this letter!” + +He caught up Silver’s letter and thrust it into the young man’s hand. +The minister glanced at the clear handwriting, caught the words “Dear +Father,” and pressed it back upon Greeves. + +“I oughtn’t to read this!” he said earnestly. + +“Yes! Read!” commanded the older man. “I want you to know the situation. +Then perhaps you’ll understand my position. I’d like to have one person +in the town who understands.” + +Bannard glanced through the lines with apology and deference in his +eyes. + +“This is no letter to be ashamed of!” he exclaimed as he read. “This +girl had a good mother, I’m sure! Or a good grandmother, anyway!” + +Greeves stopped suddenly by the window, staring out with unseeing eyes, +and his voice was husky with feeling when he spoke, after an instant of +silence. + +“She had the best grandmother in the world I think—but—her _mother_ +was _wonderful_!” There was reverence and heart-break in the tones. + +“Ah!” said the minister earnestly. “Then she will be like her mother!” + +“I _could not bear it_—if she were like her mother!” breathed the man +at the window with a voice almost like a sob, and flung himself away +from the light, pacing excitedly back to the shadowed end of the room. + +“But you say you have written her not to come?” interrupted the minister +suddenly, glancing thoughtfully at the missive in his hand. “Why did you +do that? I should think from the letter she might be a great help. Why +not let her come?” + +The father wheeled sharply again, kicking a corner of the rug that +almost tripped him as if it had personality and were interfering with +his transit. + +“Let her come! Let her come here and meet that other girl? Not on any +account. I—_could not bear it_!” + +Again that tortured wistfulness in his voice like a half sob. + +The minister watched him curiously with a sorrowful glance at the letter +in his hand. + +“I don’t quite see—_how you can bear not to_!” he said slowly. “After +reading that appeal for your love—!” + +“Appeal? What appeal? I don’t know what you mean?” + +He caught the letter hurriedly and dashed himself into his desk chair +with a deep sigh, beginning to read with hurried, feverish eyes. + +“Man! I didn’t read all this before! I was so upset! And then the other +girl came!” + +There was silence for an instant while he read. Then his eyes lifted +with a look of almost fear in them. + +“Man alive!” he gasped, “she’s coming this morning! My letter will be +too late!” He caught up the envelope he had so recently addressed and +looked at it savagely as if somehow it were to blame. “Too late!” He +flung it angrily on the floor, where it slid under the edge of the desk +and lay. The tortured man jerked himself out of his chair again and +began his walk up and down. + +“What shall I do? You’re a minister. You ought to know. She’s on her way +now. She’ll be here in a few minutes and I can’t have her. She mustn’t +meet that other girl! I can’t have Alice’s child see her! What would you +do? Oh, why did God let all this situation come about?” He wheeled +impatiently and stamped off again. + +“I’ll have to get the other one off to school somewhere, I suppose. You +wouldn’t be willing to meet that train and say I was called away, would +you? Get her to go to a hotel in the city somewhere and wait? I could +hire an automobile and take Athalie away. Perhaps there’s a school near +her old home. Wait! I know a woman on the Hudson—I wonder—‘Give me +long distance, central’.” He caught up the phone and began to tap the +floor with his foot, glancing anxiously toward the clock that was giving +a warning whirr preparatory to striking. “What time does that train get +in, Bannard? Have you a time-table?” + +Bannard glanced at the clock. + +“Why! You haven’t much time,” he said in a startled tone. “It gets here +at eleven ten. Would you like my car?” He stepped to the window, glanced +out, gave a long, low musical whistle, and in a moment Blink appeared, +darting up the front walk warily, with eyes on the front window. + +The minister leaned out of the window and called: + +“Blink, can you get my car here from the garage in five minutes? I want +to meet that train.” + +Blink murmured a nonchalant “Sure!” and was gone. The minister turned +back to the frantic father, who was foaming angrily at the +telephone-operator and demanding better service. + +“Mr. Greeves,” he said placing his hand on the other’s arm +affectionately, “my car will be here in a moment. I think you had better +take it and meet your daughter. It will be embarrassing for her to have +to meet a stranger—” + +Patterson Greeves shook his head angrily. + +“No, no! I can’t meet her! I can’t help it! She’ll have to be +embarrassed then. She got up the whole trouble by coming, didn’t she? +Well, she’ll have to take the consequences. I have to stay here and get +this other one off somewhere. I’ll send her back to her mother if I +can’t do anything else! I won’t be tormented this way. I know. You’re +thinking this is no way for a father to act, but I’m not a father! I’ve +never had the privileges of a father and I don’t intend to begin now. If +my wife had lived it would have been different—! But she had to be +taken away—! ‘Central! Central! Can’t you give me long distance?’” + +He set the instrument jiggling snappily, and down the long flight of +polished mahogany stairs heavy, reluctant footsteps could be heard +approaching. + +Patterson Greeves hung up the receiver with a click and wheeled about in +his chair with an ashen look, listening. + +“She’s coming now!” he exclaimed nervously. “I’ll have to do something. +Bannard, if you’d just take that car of yours and go meet that train, +I’ll be everlastingly obliged to you. If you don’t want to do it, let +her get here the best way she can. It will give us that much more time. +I’ve got to do something with Athalie at once—!” He arose and went +anxiously toward the door, opening it a crack and listening. The steps +came on, slowly, and yet more slowly. The minister pitied his new friend +from the bottom of his heart, and yet there was a humorous side to the +situation. To think of a man of this one’s attainments and standing +being afraid of a mere girl, afraid of two girls! His own children! It +was a simple matter, of course, to meet a train and tell the girl her +father had been occupied for the time. The car slid briskly up to the +curb in the street on time to the dot, and the minister turned +pleasantly and picked up his hat. + +“I’ll go. Certainly. What do you wish me to say to her?” + +“Oh! Nothing. Anything! You’ll have to bring her here I suppose! Make it +as long a trip as possible, won’t you? I’ll try to clear the coast +somehow—!” He glanced down at the huddled baggage of his younger +daughter with a troubled frown. “There’s a carriage here—The servants +will—Well, I’ll see what can be done. You better go quickly please!” He +looked nervously toward the door, and Bannard opened it and hurried out +to his car, Athalie entering almost as he left, her eyes upon the +departing visitor. + +“Who was that stunning-looking man, dad? Why didn’t you introduce me? +You could just as well as not, and I don’t want to waste any time +getting to know people. It’s horribly dull in a new place till you know +everybody.” + + + + + V + + +Athalie entered with nonchalance and no sign of the recent tears. Her +face had perhaps been washed and a portion of her complexion removed, +but she still had a vivid look and her hair was more startling than +ever, now that her rakish hat was removed. It stood out in a fluffy +puff-ball like a dandelion gone to seed, and gave her an amazing +appearance. Her father stared at her with a fascinated horror and was +speechless. + +She had changed her travelling frock for an accordion-pleated affair of +soft jade-green silk with an expansive neck-line and sleeves that were +slit several times from wrist to shoulder and swung jauntily in +festoon-like serpentine curves around and among her plump pink arms. She +had compromised on a pair of black chiffon-silk stockings with openwork +clocking and black satin sandals with glittering little rhinestone +clasps. A platinum wrist-watch and a glitter of jewels attended every +movement of her plump pink hands with their pointed sea-shell +finger-tips, and a long string of carved ivory beads swung downward from +her neck and mingled with the clutter of a clattering, noisy little +girdle. No wonder he stared. And she had done all that amazing toilet +while he was talking with the minister. + +He stared, and her dimples began to come with reminder of her mother in +the old luring way, filling him with pain and anger and a worse than +helplessness. Her mother’s face was not so fat as hers, but the dimples +went and came with such familiar play! + +“Dad, you needn’t think you can keep me shut up away from things,” she +said archly. “I’m going to know all your men friends and be real chummy +with them. The men always like me. I’m like Lilla in that! They bring me +stacks of presents and slews of chocolates. I’ve got a lot of going-away +boxes in my trunks. Some of them are jimdandies. This watch is a present +from Bobs. You know who Bobs is, don’t you? Bobs Farrell. He was dead +gone on Lilla. He gave me this watch on my last birthday. It’s platinum +and diamonds. Isn’t it great? He brought me out in his car this morning +or I would have had to wait two hours. When I found out what time this +little old train started, I just called up his apartment and he came +right down and got me and took me up to his place for breakfast. He has +the darlingest apartments all by himself with a Japanese man to wait on +him, and the most adorable cooking! And he’s going to have a theatre +party for me some night with a dinner afterward at his apartment. Won’t +that be simply great? I’m to ask any two girls from school I like, and +he will get the men. And by the way, Daddy, I’ve invited a house party +for the first week in June. You don’t mind, do you? There are ten of the +girls in my class and I’ve promised them the time of their life. The +fellows won’t be here only at the week-end. They have to be back at +prep. Monday morning. Their old school doesn’t close for two weeks after +ours.” + +His most amazing child had rattled on without let-up thus far, and this +was the first period he had been able to grasp. He hastened to avail +himself of it, meanwhile glancing nervously at the clock. + +“School! Yes. School! May I ask why you are not in school yourself?” + +“Oh!” she wreathed the dimples coquettishly around her red lips, “why! +didn’t you know I had been fired!” She dimpled charmingly as though it +were something to be proud about. “I suppose Lilla didn’t tell you +because she was afraid you’d be shocked, but you might as well know all +about it at the start. It saves misunderstandings. You see, we had a +pajama party!” + +“A pajama party!” cried the horrified father. + +“O, now, daddy Pat! You needn’t pull a long face and make out you never +did such things. You know you had gay times when you went to school, and +you can’t be young but once. There isn’t anything so terrible in a +pajama party! You see the whole trouble was I got caught out on the +fire-escape in mine and all the rest got away, so I had to be fired, but +it was fun. I don’t care. I’d be fired over again just to see how Guzzy +Foster, that’s the math. prof., looked when that ice and salt went down +his back. You see it was this way. One of the girls had a dandy box from +home, and she happened to tell one of the boys from the military prep. +that she had it, and he coaxed to get some of the things. So May Beth +told him if he and some of his friends would come under the fire-escape +at exactly midnight she’d drop down a box of cake for them. Well, +everything went all right till the party was almost over and the girls +had eaten all they could stuff, and they had the box for the boys all +packed and I was to go out and throw it down to them because May Beth +had an awful cold and her pajamas were just thin crêpe de Chine and she +was all of a shiver anyway from eating so much cold ice cream. So I said +I didn’t mind even if it was cold. I thought it would be fun, and I went +out with the box and whistled softly for the boys, and they answered +once, and then, it was all very still. It was moonlight and I could see +them lined up among the bushes on the campus. I swung the box over the +railing and whispered, ‘Here she comes,’ and just as I did it I somehow +caught my toe in the burlap that came off the ice-cream freezer—I had +on Tillie Irvin’s pink satin mules with forget-me-nots on them, and she +was sore as a boil at me about that too—and then before I knew what was +happening, I somehow hit the ice-cream freezer and knocked it over, and +_slosh!_ out went all the sloppy ice and salt water through the iron +grating of the fire-escape, and I looked down and there was Guzzy +Foster—he and his wife have their apartment right under my room, and we +thought they were away for the week-end, that’s why we chose my room for +the party—he was just inside his window with his head stuck out of an +old red bath robe looking up—the old ferret. He was always snooping +round to stop any fun that was going—and he caught the whole stream of +icy salt water full in his face and down his old mathematical back, and +I hope he gets pneumonia from it. He’s the limit! Well, I heard him gasp +and splutter, and draw in his head, and I heard the boys snicker down in +the bushes and scatter out to the street—they got the cake all right. I +called one of ’em up on the phone at the station before I left and found +out—and I just danced up and down in those pink satin mules with the +forget-me-nots and howled for a minute, it was so funny. And then all of +a sudden I realized it had got very still behind me and I looked in the +window and the lights were out. There wasn’t a sound of a girl to be +heard, and down the hall I could hear hard steps that sounded like Mrs. +Foster, so I tried to get in the window, but it was fastened! Babe Heath +did that because she thought if the window was locked they wouldn’t +think to look out. But there was I in thin china-silk pajamas and the +wind blowing up from the river like ice! It was grand skating the next +day, so you may know it was pretty fierce! But I stuck it out till she +found me, and they fired me so quick Lilla didn’t have a chance to come +and see what was the matter. They just sent me home that night in charge +of Guzzy Foster himself. His name’s Augustus Charles, but we call him +Guzzy and I had a horrid, horrid time, so it’s up to you to be good to +me!” + +Patterson Greeves gasped, and grasped the arms of the big chair into +which he had dropped as Athalie entered, looking at his child in abject +helplessness. + +The distant sound of an approaching train stirred him to nervous action +once more. + +“I certainly cannot approve of your outrageous conduct,” he began, in a +tone such as he might have used in his classroom. “It was inexcusable, +impossible, indecent—! I cannot think how a girl could bring herself to +so demean herself. And the first thing you must do will be to write a +humble acknowledgment and apology to the principal of the institution +and promise that for the future your conduct shall be irreproachable. I +will see at once about your reinstatement, and I cannot countenance in +future any disregard of the rules of the school or of the rules of good +breeding.” + +But the girl broke in with a boisterous laugh: + +“What’s that you say? Me go back to that school? Well, I guess anyhow +not. _Not on your life, I don’t!_ You couldn’t _drag_ me within sight of +the old dump. I’m done with it forever, and I’ll tell the world _I’m +glad_! Why? Don’t you like me? Doesn’t this dress suit you any better? +I’ve got some stunners in my trunks. When do you think they will bring +them out from the city? Can’t we get a car and go after them? I’m just +dying to show you some of my things, and the big portrait of Lilla she +had taken for the General—!” + +Greeves arose, white and angry. + +“Get on your things at once!” he almost shouted. “We are going back to +your school. It is impossible for you to stay here. I am a very busy +man. I have important work to do.” He glanced wildly at his watch, and +then gave a quick look out of the window as he strode to the bell and +touched it, flinging open the hall door and looking up the stairs. + +“But I am not going back to school!” declared Athalie with a black look. +“I’m going to stay right here! I won’t be the least trouble in the +world. I’ll have my friends, and you can have yours. I’ll go my way, and +you can go yours. That’s the way Lilla and I always did. Only, Daddy +Pat, have we got to have that old limb of a housekeeper around? I hate +her! I couldn’t get on with her a day. I’m sure I’d shock her. She’s a +pie-faced hypocrite and you’d better fire her. I’ll run the house. I +know how! Daddy Pat—may I call you _Pat_?” + +“_No!_” thundered the scientist. “You may not. You may say ‘Father’ if +it’s necessary to call me anything!” He glared at her. “And you may go +to your room at once and stay there until I send for you!” he added +suddenly, as he glanced once more out of the window and saw an +automobile draw up before the door. Then both of them became aware that +Anne Truesdale stood in the open door, her face as white as her starched +apron, a look of consternation upon her meek face and her hands clasped +nervously at her belt. + + + + + VI + + +It had not occurred to the minister until he came within sight of the +station and heard the whistle of the approaching train, that he had come +on a most embarrassing errand. + +It had appeared to him as he talked with her father and read her letter +that the girl he was about to escort to her home might be anywhere +between twelve and fifteen years old. His information concerning +Patterson Greeves’ history had been vague and incomplete. He looked to +be a young man for all this experience, and the minister had jumped to +the conclusion that both girls were quite young. + +But when the train drew up at the station and the only stranger who got +out proved to be a lovely young woman dressed with quiet but exquisite +taste and with an air of sweet sophistication, he became suddenly aware +that the errand he had come upon was one of an exceedingly delicate +nature and he wished with all his soul he had not undertaken it. + +She carried a small suitcase in her hand and walked with an air of +knowing exactly where she was going. She paused only an instant to +glance about her and then went straight to the station waiting-room and +checked her suitcase. She did it with so much apparent forethought as if +she had been there before and knew exactly what she had to do, that the +young man hesitated and looked about for a possible other arrival who +might be the girl he came to meet. But the train snorted and puffed its +way slowly into motion and started on, and no other passengers appeared. +As she turned away from the checking desk he came hesitantly upon her +and their eyes met. + +She was slight and small with a well formed head poised alertly, and +delicate features that gave one the sense of being moulded and used by a +spirit alive to more than the things of this earth. The impression was +so strong that he hesitated, with hat lifted in the very act of +introducing himself, to look again with startled directness into a face +that was so exactly a counterpart of what he had dreamed a girl some day +might be that he had the feeling of having been thrust with appalling +unreadiness into her presence to whom he would have willed to come with +his soul newly shriven. + +She had violet eyes with a frank clear glance, hair that curled +naturally and frilled about her face catching the sunbeams, lips that +curved sweetly but firmly, and the complexion of a wild rose newly +washed in dew. She looked like a spirit flower that yet was entirely +able to take care of herself on earth. + +“Is this—” he hesitated and remembered that he did not know her +name—finishing lamely “Mr. Greeves’ daughter?” + +She lifted her eyes, with a quick searching look and smiled: + +“You are not—You could not be—my father.” + +Bannard smiled. + +“No, I have not that honor. Your father is—” he hesitated again. Why +hadn’t he thought up some excuse for the father who was not there? It +seemed inexcusable now that he saw the daughter, not to meet such a +daughter! “Your father is—importantly engaged! He has but just arrived +himself!” + +He felt he was doing better. + +“He only had opportunity to read your letter a few minutes ago, and it +was impossible for him to get to the train. He asked me to meet you—” + +She smiled with a rich warm welcome for her father’s friend and he felt +a glow of comfort. + +“My name is Bannard,” he finished, “I hope we’re to be friends also.” He +put out his hand and she took it graciously and thanked him. + +He piloted her to his car and helped her in, then hesitated: + +“Your baggage? Didn’t I see you check a suitcase? Wouldn’t you like me +to get it?” + +A soft rose bloomed out in the girl’s cheeks and the fringes drooped +deeply over her cheeks for an instant, then she lifted steady eyes and +said: + +“No. I believe not, thank you. I’m not sure until I see—my +father—whether I shall remain or go on to New York this afternoon.” + +He found himself strangely disturbed over this state of things. He +wanted to assure her that of course she must not go on anywhere. This +was the place that needed her. But of course he could say nothing. He +might not even tell her that her father was in trouble. He had not been +given permission to do anything but convey her to her home and that by +as long a route as possible. + +“We’re going by a round-about way,” he explained as he headed his car +for a detour quite away from the old Silver Place. “There’s a bad bit of +road they are repairing—” he was thankful that he had happened to +notice the men at work on his way down and therefore could truthfully +give an explanation to this clear-eyed maiden who it seemed to him must +be able to read his embarrassment through the very serge of his coat. + +“Shall we pass the old Presbyterian church?” she asked eagerly leaning +forward and looking about as though it were a spot she knew well by +heart but had never seen with her eyes. + +“Why, yes, we can,” he responded eagerly, “Are you especially interested +in that?” and he looked down with a smile and then a wonder at the light +in her eyes. + +“It is where my father went to church,” she answered, as if conning +things she had learned well—“and there is a cemetery where my relatives +are buried. I was interested to see it.” + +He drove the car down a smooth ribbon of a road that curved about with +wooded land on one hand and mellow fields of rippling green on the +other, with a glimpse off at the right of the Silver River and Frogtown +factories smothered in pale budding willows against a turquoise sky. + +“It is beautiful here, isn’t it?” The girl’s eyes glowed. She drew in +long breaths of the spring air. There were violets at the side of the +road and it came to him how like her eyes they were. + +They crossed a stone bridge and headed more directly toward the river +and she exclaimed over the bright winding ribbon of water. Just because +he had promised to make the time long, because he liked to see the wild +rose color in the round cheeks glow when she opened her eyes wide at the +view, he slowed down the car and investigated some minute squeak in the +mechanism. Not that it was important. Not that he did anything about it. +Just a pleasant little delay. It seemed to him he was experiencing a +charmed privilege which was slipping by all too fleetly, and which he +would grasp as it went. It might not ever come his way again. + +On their way again they wound around the clump of beeches and came into +the main street of Silver Sands all shining in the morning sunlight with +serene houses on either hand in long stretches of green, and new gardens +in geometrical lines behind the houses flanked by regiments of bean +poles. A wide straw hat sheltered a lady picking strawberries in the +patch of luxuriant vines. The breath of the day was sweet with growing +things. The people walked crisply down the pleasant maple shaded +pavements as though the going were enjoyment. The anvil rang out with +silver sound from the blacksmith-shop as they passed. People began to +hail the minister with glad lighting of eyes, and he was kept busy +lifting his hat and waving his hand cheerily. Even the boys in the +street gave him a greeting and then curiously half-jealous eyes turned +to study his companion as they swept on their way. + +“They all know you,” the girl commented. “I’m sure you must live in +Silver Sands.” + +“I do,” he responded. “It is a good place to live. My particular corner +is just down that next street, the white house with the rose trellis +over the door. I board with a blessed old lady whom everybody calls Aunt +Katie Barnes. She nearly turns herself out of house and home trying to +find new ways of making me comfortable. It is a very friendly community. +They take one in heart and soul.” + +She flashed him an appreciative glance and asked thoughtfully: + +“Have you known my father long?” + +“Well, not so very long—” the minister answered—“that is—you know he +has only recently returned—but we are wonderfully good friends +considering the short time. I—you—” he hesitated. There was something +he wanted to tell her for her reassurance, to answer the question in her +eyes which he felt sure she was too loyal to her father to ask, but his +lips were sealed. And after all what was there to say even if they had +not been? What reassurance had he himself that the man he had left +raving at Fate in the old library would give any sort of an adequate +welcome to this pearl of a girl? He felt as if he wanted to tell her +that if her father wasn’t glad to see her he would take him by the neck +and shake him till he was. But one couldn’t tell a strange girl things +like that about her father. + +“This is the Presbyterian church we are coming to now, the one on the +left. The main part was built in sixteen hundred and seventeen. Hasn’t +it nobly simple lines? The stones have weathered to as fine a color as +any cathedral in the old world. I love to see it against the sky with +the sunset behind it. That spire is a thing of beauty don’t you think? +And those doves in the belfry are a continual delight. Do you know +Aldrich’s bit of a verse, ‘And on the belfry sits a dove with purple +ripples on her neck?’ There goes one now swooping down to the pavement. +Did you see the silver flash on her wing? And now we’re coming to the +part of the cemetery where your ancestors are buried. See that big gray +granite column? No, the plain one just beyond. That is the old Silver +lot. All the Silvers are lying there. Your grandfather and +great-grandfather and their wives in that centre plot, and those side +plots are for the sons and their wives and children. It was a peculiar +arrangement and forethought of the first Silver settler and carried out +by each succeeding one in turn. There, those two gray stones are for +Standish Silver and his sister Lavinia, the last of the family who bore +the Silver name.” + +“Aunt Lavinia and Uncle Standish. I have their pictures,” said the girl +softly as if doing homage to their memory. “They brought up my father.” + +She lifted shy friendly eyes: + +“Silver is my name, too. It’s a queer name for a girl isn’t it? But I +like it. I like to think I’m a Silver too.” + +“It is a beautiful name,” said the young man, doing homage with his +eyes. + +“They were a wonderful people from all I hear. I would like to have +known them.” + +And now all too soon they were at the Silver door and he was helping her +out of the car. + +He found his heart pounding strangely with anticipation for the girl at +his side. How would she be received? He felt as if he must stay by her +till he was sure, although delicacy dictated that he disappear as soon +as his errand was done. + +Blink with nonchalant foresight was idly flipping pebbles at a toad in +the meadow from his perch on the fence, his back to the road. At his +feet, attentive to each motion, apparently approving and aiding and +abetting the game barked a big yellow collie. The dog bounded joyously +across the road at sight of the car and precipitated himself upon the +minister with a wag and a glad grin of recognition, then gave a friendly +snuff to the girl’s hands, looked up and smiled a dog greeting with open +cordiality. + +“What a dear dog!” exclaimed the girl. “What a beauty!” She was bending +over him with the enthusiasm of a true dog lover and Blink sauntered +idly over and leaned against the car pleased at her demonstration, +eyeing her furtively, appraisingly. “May I introduce his master Barry +Lincoln, otherwise ‘Blink’ to his intimate friends?” said Bannard. + +The girl lifted frank, friendly eyes to Blink’s embarrassed ones and +liked him at once. She put out her hand warmly and grasped his rough shy +one as she might have done to an older man, and the boy’s heart warmed +toward her. + +“What a very interesting name!” she said gaily, “If I stay here long I +am sure I shall try to qualify to use it. Is the dog’s name Link?” + +The boy grinned. + +“He’s Buddie,” he admitted shyly. + +“Well, Buddie, I hope I meet you again,” she said, with another flash of +warmth in her eyes for the boy whose own were now filled with open +admiration. She passed into the white gate and Blink looked after her +with a new stirring in his heart, call it loyalty if you like, Blink had +no idea what it was. He lifted his glance to the minister’s smile and +found the same thing in his friend’s eyes, and an unspoken covenant +flashed between them to protect her if ever she needed their protection. +Blink would have expressed it in words, “She’s a good scout.” Blink and +the dog stood by the car, Buddie wagging his plume of a tail vigorously, +and watched the man and the girl go up the flower-bordered walk to the +big mullioned door. + +From inside the library Patterson Greeves watched the two figures +arrive. + +Joe Quinn watched from the shelter of the smoke-bush close to the lilac +hedge where he was digging about the tulip beds, and Molly the cook, +having seen the car from her pantry window, had hurried up to the front +hall window on pretext of looking for the housekeeper, and was gazing +down curiously on the two, wondering what next was coming to the old +house. + +At the extreme dark end of the back hall Anne Truesdale, in hiding, +could glimpse the minister’s hat through the side lights of the hall +door, and a snatch now and then of the lady’s feather, and she stood +with hand involuntarily on her heart, waiting, not daring to come forth +till “that huzzy” as she thought of Athalie, had gone up stairs. But +Athalie, one foot on the lower step, had turned back to look at her +irate father, perfectly aware that he was disturbed by the sight of +something out of the window, and herself caught a glimpse of the +minister returning. Ah! So that was why she was being sent upstairs! A +good looking young man and she bundled away! This was no part of Miss +Athalie’s plan of life, so she whirled about on the lowest step and +waited also. + +Then the fine old knocker reverberated through the long silent house, +Patterson Greeves retreated hastily in panic to his library and Anne +Truesdale, chained to duty by an inexorable conscience, was forced to +come forth and open the door. + +The stage was set and the actors came on as the door was timidly opened +by Anne. + + + + + VII + + +Athalie Greeves came noiselessly forward to the library door, a look of +expectancy on her round pink face, a cat-and-cream expression about her +lips. As noiselessly Patterson Greeves forced himself to step to the +doorway again, a heavy frown upon his brow, a look of extreme suffering, +one would almost have said dread, in his eyes. Anne with frightened eyes +peered bravely round the door, and the two on the wide flagging stones +of the porch waited, the girl with wistful eager, yet courageous eyes, +ready for either love or renunciation, whichever the indications showed; +the minister hovering tall above her, a look almost of defiance on his +strong face, an air of championship and protection about him. + +Nobody spoke for the first instant which seemed almost like an eternity. +The two girls saw each other first, for Patterson Greeves stood within +the library door. + +The girl on the steps was gowned in a blue-gray tweed suit, well fitted +and tailored and a trim little soft blue straw toque with a sharp black +wing piquantly stabbing the folds of the straw. Her hair was golden in +the sunlight, and as she stood seemed like a halo round her face. The +light of the morning was in her eyes as she peered into the shadows of +the hall, then suddenly grayed with chill and reserve as she met the +eyes of the other girl. + +Athalie’s plump face grew suddenly hard, her lips drooped, her eyes +glared, her head went slightly forward with a look of stealth and +jealousy and her hand went instinctively out to catch the doorframe. Her +whole form seemed to crouch with a catlike motion, and green lights +danced in her eyes, though they might have been reflected from her +dress. The minister lifted amazed eyes and saw her. He put out an +involuntary hand of protection toward the girl by his side. + +Then Patterson Greeves stepped into the hall sternly, his back to +Athalie and came toward the door. He looked and stopped short, his hands +suddenly stretched out and then drawn back to his eyes with a quick +hysterical motion as if he would brush a fantasm from his vision: + +“Alice!” came from his lips in a low broken tone of agony, as if the +torture and mistakes of the years were summed up in the words. + +During that instant while he stood with his fingers pressing his eyes +Athalie began stealthily to step back and across the hall to the wide +arched doorway of the stately old parlor that ran the depth of the house +on the other side of the hall from the library. Her eyes wide and round +were fixed on her father. An instant later there was only left the +swaying of the old silk cord tassel that held the heavy maroon curtains +of the doorway. + +Then the girl on the doorstep came to vivid life and stepped up quickly +toward her father with eager light in her face. + +“Father!” She said the word with a world of reverence and stored up +love, tender caressing sound, so genuine, so wistful, it could not fail +to reach the heart of any man who was not utterly dead to his +fatherhood. They were clasping hands now, looking earnestly, eagerly +into one another’s eyes. + +Anne Truesdale, behind the door, averting her loyal gaze, the minister +with anxious attitude upon the doorstep, the alien daughter behind the +heavy portière, one eye applied to a loop-hole close to the doorframe, +were breathless witnesses of the moment. Then Patterson Greeves drew his +daughter within the library door with the one word “Come,” and closed +the door behind them. The minister came to himself, murmuring that he +would return or telephone later, and took his departure. Anne Truesdale +closed the front door, and with an anxious glance as she tiptoed by the +library door, vanished up the stairs. A soft stirring at the end of the +back hall where Molly listened, a cautiously closed latch, and all was +still. + +Athalie in the big dim parlor held her breath, listening, peered +cautiously, and then drew back and gazed about her with a leisurely air. + +The room was wide and very long, with windows heavily curtained in the +old-fashioned stately way. The ceilings high, the walls hung with dim +old portraits in heavy gilt frames. The floor was covered with heavy +velvet carpet, rich and thick in scrolls and roses, bright with care, +though the years had passed many times over it. The furniture was rare +and old and comfortable, and would have graced many a finer mansion. One +or two chairs done in fine hand-made tapestry softly faded with the +years, tables and cabinets that had come down from the masters in wood +work. A rosewood piano of a make some thirty years back, whose name was +still dignified and honored. Athalie stood and gazed about, half +contemptuously. The chairs, yes—but the carpet! How funny! She would +have to see that it was taken up at once and a hardwood floor—of +_course_—this would be a grand room for a dance. She gave an +experimental whirl on a cautious toe. Those curtains were gloomy! She +slid a sleek hand into a well camouflaged silken pocket and brought +forth chocolates wherewith she had fortified herself. Her mouth +comfortingly filled with the creamy velvet of Dutch creams she started +on a tour of inspection, pausing first before an ancestral portrait +hanging above a curiously carved sofa with hand-wrought tapestry +upholstery. The picture frame, tarnished with the years, seemed like an +open doorway to the past. From it looked forth a woman plain of face, +smooth of hair, with a carved high back comb towering above her sleek +head, and bearing a bird on her finger. The eyes were so expressionless +and the face so sombre that it was impossible not to connect it with a +monotonous existence. A woman satisfied with a pet bird! Athalie paused +and took in the thought. A lift of her well-rounded shoulders, a +contemptuous smile, that was her reaction to the woman of long ago. She +meant little to the girl modern in all her thoughts and feelings. There +was hardly a shadow of conception of that sheltered, sweet, strong life +that had given much to the world in her passing. The girl passed to the +portrait of the man in military uniform hanging between the two long +front windows and her jaws paused in their slow rhythmic manipulation of +the chocolates to study him a moment. This must be old General Silver. +Her mother had told her about him. Not much, only that he had been +something—made some great mark in the Civil War, or was it the war +before that? Athalie’s ideas of history were most vague. She knew only +that it was very long ago if one might judge by the old-fashioned +hair-cut, the high collar, the strange war trappings, not in the least +like a modern soldier. He had bushy eyebrows, from beneath which his +piercing eyes looked over her head straight out to some far seen enemy, +keen, cutting, stern—the girl shuddered. There had been that look in +the eye of this new-found father of hers, not at all fatherly, not +“dadish” as she expressed it to herself, purely official. He was like +his ancestor, she decided, as she stood and watched the picture. +Disappointing. Quite as Lilla had said he would be. Hard as adamant. +Flint in his eye. No yielding to coaxing. No weakness anywhere that one +could probe. Was the bird lady his wife or daughter? She looked back and +studied the first portrait critically, deciding she must have been his +wife. No wonder she looked as if she had dragged out a drab existence! +And yet—she looked back to the soldier’s face. There was a fascination +about him somewhere. What was it? The moulding of the firm lips? The +arch of the heavy brow? The curve of the wavy hair, brushed fiercely +forward from either side of the head and focussing over the forehead in +a high standing brush? Well—somehow that made you long to conquer, to +draw a smile to those stern lips, a soft light to the eyes—it must have +been that something that made Lilla marry her father. It couldn’t have +all been money nor station for Athalie had heard her mother tell many +times of other lovers, far famed and wealthy. There was something about +her father she had come to conquer, and she hardened her own wilful lips +in determination and passed on to the next wall opposite the bird lady. + +A stately dame with soft white hair and a cap looked forth from the next +frame with a smile, more human than the others, the girl felt; her stiff +black silk seemed almost to rustle from its frame with dignity and +kindliness, and the painted hands held primly a wide, gracious fan of +rare old lace. And by its side hung the portrait of her husband +apparently, a fine old gentleman with silvered hair, high stock, and +courtly manner, fitting mate for the dear old lady, both portraits so +lifelike that Athalie paused almost abashed for an instant as if someone +unexpectedly had entered the room. It gave her a feeling of unaccustomed +awe, these strong, painted personalities all about her, past history +caught and imprisoned on the canvas for another age to know intimately. +They looked down at her with kindly gracious eyes and she turned away +awkwardly, uncomfortable, and swept the room with another glance. + +On the back wall Uncle Standish Silver in more modern business garb, and +his sister Lavinia, in her Sunday best silk, long-sleeved, high-necked, +fastened with a great cameo at the throat, and pretty crimped hair drawn +back and up from her ears in a knot on top of her shapely head, were too +modern to excite her curiosity, too old-fashioned to hold her interest. +Her eyes wandered to the frame opposite the side window, half in shadow +of the heavy curtain, a picture of a young man, a mere boy he was. She +walked the length of the room eagerly to inspect it and stopped in +admiration. A boy a little older than herself, and looking strangely +like herself, only slim and tall, and with eyes—yes with eyes like the +soldier—and—yes—_eyes like her father’s_! It must be her father when +he was a boy! + +She stood a long time looking at it with mingled feelings, admiring, +jealous, determined, studying him as he had been when almost her age. +She felt if she knew him then, she would be more able to understand and +influence him now. Finally, with a sigh of impatience she turned and was +about to slip out of the room when she suddenly saw for the first +time—how had it escaped her?—the portrait of a young and beautiful +woman, fresh, vivid, smiling, from a great oval frame over the white +marble mantel. The eyes were wonderful, large, loving, innocent, deeply +intelligent and with a look of life about them that made the girl +uneasy. Those eyes seemed suddenly to have been watching her all the +time, to have followed her around the room, to be searching her down to +the depths of her mean, selfish little soul. They were maddening eyes to +a girl like Athalie. They belied every purpose of her life, every +standard and ideal dear to her soul, every act of which she was +conscious. They were like an angel’s eyes come down to earth for +judgment. + +Slowly, with gathering storm in her own dark eyes, she approached, and +the two eyes seemed to meet. Who was this young girl dressed in misty +white like a bride, fashioned not so long ago either? And was that a +veil on her head? And orange blossoms—a spray? What bride of recent +years had a right there, in the centre of the great room, the place of +honor? It must be—! It _was_ her father’s first wife! Here in the house +where she had come to live! Watching her with searching angel-eyes like +that! Clean eyes that made her conscious of herself! Assured eyes that +claimed their right to be there! + +And who was it she resembled? Where had she seen that face before, those +true clear eyes? + +It suddenly flashed over her and she trembled from head to foot with +rage and ground her teeth in quick fury. _That girl out on the +doorstep!_ Was that the girl of the portrait? Or had her father married +another wife, a young girl like that? Had he _dared_, and not let them +know? Could he do that? Or—stay! There had been a child. Lilla had +always said that it died—but perhaps! + +Suddenly Athalie, in a burst of rage, took a long step toward the +portrait, a spring up, and spat forth a great mouthful of well +masticated sticky chocolate straight into the lovely painted face, +covering eyes and nose and smiling lips, and dripping in ugly brown +courses down cheeks and chin. The girl surveyed her work of desecration +with satisfaction and a lifted chin and stuck out tongue as any naughty +child of three might have done. Then lifting her hands in a hateful +defiant gesture she darted from the room and went lightly upstairs. + +In a moment more after rummaging in her suitcase, she stole forth with a +large framed photograph hidden in the folds of her skirt, and slipped +down to the parlor again, going straight to the mantel and putting her +picture directly under the picture of the girl bride. + +It was a recent picture of Lilla taken in exceedingly gauzy négligée, +one of the expensive affairs of velvet and chiffon and fur she loved to +don, an intimate picture not meant for public gaze, a bold-eyed, +challenging, still beautiful woman, with amazing hair falling over bare +shoulders and down upon the silk pillows of her chaise longue, on which +she was half reclining. It was framed in an exquisite silver frame and +intended for Athalie to show her former husband that he might see how +lovely she still remained in spite of his indifference. + +Athalie stood back and surveyed with jealous eye the picture smiling +defiantly forth beneath the defaced one, made another grimace of hate +and flew up the stairs again to her room, leaving her mother’s picture +to hold its own with the other portraits of the family. + + + + + VIII + + +Within the quiet library the father and daughter were coming to their +own. The alienation of the years like a great wall of ice was slowly +melting between them and they were groping for phantom ends of heart +ties broken long ago. + +He had seated his daughter in one chair and drawn another opposite her. +He was unnerved with the events of the night and morning. He seemed to +find it hard to control his faculties and adjust himself to the present +circumstances. He hardly seemed to hear her voice or the words she was +speaking. It was his dead wife’s voice that he heard. And there was no +reproach in it, but it rebuked him. It rebuked him so that he could +scarcely speak. + +“I have wanted to see you so long—father—I have wanted to know you—!” +she was saying. + +He groaned as he dropped his head for an instant and put his hands up to +his eyes: + +“You—are—_Alice_!” he said hoarsely. + +She smiled. That smile he had loved so well! Was ever man tortured like +this man? To have the dead come back in such perfection, yet in another +body—and with another soul? “His daughter! His _daughter_!” he tried to +say to himself, yet it was as babbling. He could not get its meaning. +This was Alice come to rebuke him. Alice as when he first knew her. + +“They always have called me Silver,” she said wistfully. “Grandmother +couldn’t quite bear to call me Alice. But—I shall be glad to have you +call me what you like—” + +He looked at her as in a dream. He could not think what to say to her. +He wanted to reach out and touch that lock of hair that was drooping +over her ear, the one with the sunbeam netted in it, it was brushing +against her cheek, that cheek rounded with the same contour as his lost +Alice. + +What a fool he had been not to know Alice would leave him her image in +her child. How he had given it away, this dear growing vision of the +lost one! Given it away without a thought, actually been glad to be rid +of the responsibility! And now he had lost it! Lost the right! It was +like giving light to a blind man, bread to a dead man, to give her to +him now. He could never get in touch with her after these years. He had +carved out his life in a different line, a line where she did not fit. +He could never learn to speak her language, nor teach her his. He would +not have her learn his. He shuddered at the thought. He could only look +at her and watch her as she talked, scarcely hearing anything she said. + +Afterward some of her sentences came back, stored up by his subconscious +mind perhaps; details of her life, where she had been at school, how she +had occupied her time, sweet incidents of the last years of those she +loved. He understood enough to be rebuked again, seeing how he had +failed in what might have been a pleasant duty toward the beloved of his +beloved. + +“You are not—_angry_—with me for coming?” she asked at last lifting +her eyes anxiously to his silent staring face. + +A swift contortion as of sudden pain darted over his face. It seemed as +if he might be trying to smile in unaccustomed lines. It hurt him that +she should ask such a thing. He had not thought that would hurt! It hurt +him that he could not answer her with the right cordial words! What were +the right words? Why could he not get hold of them? What a complex thing +this life was anyway that one could go on for years according to a +certain plan and standard, and then suddenly be confronted by +unsuspected emotions which upset the whole universe! He became aware +that she was still awaiting an answer, with sorrow gathering in those +dear blue eyes. + +“Angry? Oh, no! Why should I be angry?” he found himself saying in a +cold distant tone. It was as if he were dead trying to call to the +living, so strange and far away his own voice seemed to him. + +A slow flush rose in her cheeks and her troubled eyes searched his face +for sign of welcome. + +He struggled once more for words: + +“I am glad you have come.” The words had not been formed in his +intention. He found to his wonder that they were nevertheless true. + +“I wish you had come before!” + +“But you were not here!” + +“Of course!” he said foolishly. “Then I wish I had come sooner. I wish I +had never gone—from you!” + +“Oh, father, do you really? How many times I have wished that!” The blue +eyes were full of wistful eagerness now. It had meant a great deal to +her! Why had it? Was that her mother looking at him through her eyes? +Was he going stark staring crazy? It was Alice’s look. Alice was looking +through those eyes of her daughter’s as one might look through a window! + +He was not gazing at the girl now, only at Alice looking through her +eyes. Alice was trying to signal to him, to make him understand +something. What was that the lips so like hers were saying? + +“When I was a little, little child grandmother used to tell me all about +you, how you first came to see mother—” Ah! she called her +“_Mother_”!—“How you looked, how you used to sing, and play football +and baseball—how handsome you were—” + +Ah! He had lost the thread for a moment and now she was speaking of her +first little baby thoughts of him, how grandmother had taught her +lisping lips to pray “Dod bess favver!” Suddenly the thought of rosy +baby fingers about his neck—where had he seen rosy baby fingers? Not +Lilla’s baby! That had seemed too much a part of Lilla to be pleasant to +him. He had never made much or seen much of Lilla’s baby. He shuddered +at the thought of that other girl upstairs. How should he tell this girl +about her? + +“I used to wonder how it would be to have a father, a _young_ father, +like other children, to carry me upstairs at night—grandfather was +dear, but you know he had that accident—oh, didn’t you know about that? +I was only two years old when it happened. He was knocked down by a +heavy truck in trying to cross the city street on his way to Presbytery. +He was always lame after that and had to be very careful about lifting. +I used to so long to be lifted up and carried in strong arms—!” + +The man wondered at the exquisite thrill that came to him. After all +these years of dreary living, his heart burnt out to ashes, that the +thought of a little child, _his_ little child being carried in his arms +should so stir him! The thought of a rosy cheek cuddling in his neck, +moist lips dropping furtive kisses, soft breath coming and going against +his cheek, golden curls spreading on his shoulder—she would have had +golden curls he knew by the curl of the sunshine in the tendrils about +her forehead. His baby! _Alice’s_ baby! Alice’s gift to him to comfort +him through the lonely years! And _he had let her go_! Was that what the +eyes had been trying to signal him? It was as if Alice stood there +behind the windows of her daughter’s eyes and held out her baby to him +with a smile; and suddenly he understood and reached out the arms of his +heart to gather her to his life. Fool that he had been that he had not +known it sooner, before the mistakes of his life had thickened about him +and unfitted him for caring for her! Suddenly he dropped his face into +his hands again and groaned. + +“Father! Dear father! What is it? Did I hurt you somehow?” + +“Too late! Too late!” he moaned. “What a fool I have been!” + +And there somehow he told her all that she needed to know of the years +that had separated them, broken sentences, more reserves than words, +tender silences. The grafting process had begun in that which had been +so long severed. + +When Anne Truesdale, after long lingering and listening to the low +murmur of voices, finally brought herself to tap on the door and +announce lunch, their faces were like the clear shining after rain. + +“Come in Anne!” His voice was more like himself than it had been since +his arrival. Anne entered bravely, suppressing her own excitement. + +“I’m afraid, Anne, we’ve been upsetting all your arrangements,” he began +penitently as he used to do when as a boy he took all the cookies in the +cooky jar to feed a hungry horde of boys. + +“Don’t speak of it, Master Pat. Yer not to apologize to me. This is yer +own house. I and the rest are but here to do yer bidding. It is the +pleasure of us all to have things as you’ll be wanting them.” + +The woman held her hands tightly clasped at her waist and made a low +courtesy of respect. The master’s face softened with affection. + +“Thank you, Trudie,” he said, using the old childhood name. Then turning +toward the girl he said: + +“Trudie, this is Alice’s child! My daughter—Silver! _Silver—Alice!_” + +He turned quickly away, his voice husky with feeling, but wheeled as +suddenly back again: + +“Could she have Aunt Lavinia’s room? I’d like to have her there—!” + +Anne gave the girl one swift sifting glance and rendered instant homage: + +“Indeed she could, Master Pat,” she said heartily, satisfaction in her +eyes, “and right pleased would Miss Lavinia be to have such a successor. +Shall I show the way at once? Lunch is putting on the table.” + +“Why, I’ll only be a moment,” said the girl beginning to remove her +gloves. “How beautiful to have Aunt Lavinia’s room!” + +Anne Truesdale stepped back as Silver advanced to the stairs and spoke +in a guarded voice: + +“And what about the young Miss upstairs? Must I speak to her to come +down?” + +The man looked as though she had struck him, and the light of shining +went suddenly out of his eyes: + +“Oh, why! Yes—I suppose you’ll have to—tell her to come down please!” +he finished with an attempt at ease, and bracing himself made one of his +quick turns and went and stood staring out of the long narrow window +that framed the front doorway. + +Silver had paused, glancing back, and caught the low words, felt the +pain in his voice and the sudden dashing of his spirit. It seemed that a +cloud must have just passed over the sun. “The young Miss upstairs!” +That would be the flapper-looking child she saw when she first entered. +Who was she? What right had she here in her father’s house? + +But Anne Truesdale’s black silk was rustling close behind and she +mounted the stairs looking with eager eyes around, nor saw the glitter +of an evil black eye at the keyhole as she passed down the upper hall. + +“This was Miss Silver’s room,” said Anne swinging wide the panelled +mahogany door, and revealing quaint rare furniture, rich faded carpet, a +glimpse of a pineapple carved fourposter, and the depths of a flowered +wing-chair by the window, with a little sewing table drawn up and even a +work basket with a bit of white linen tidily folded atop. + +Anne bustled about, setting straight a chair, patting a pillow, and +smoothing a dent out of the wing-chair cushion where she had but just +been kneeling. Then she slipped away down the hall and tapped at a door +nearer the head of the stairs on the other side. + +Silver took off her hat, ran her fingers through her hair, washed her +face and hands in the great blue and white china bowl, dried them on a +fine linen towel fragrant with rose leaves and exquisitely wrought with +a great S at one end. Then she fluffed up her hair a bit more, gave a +glance into the mirror, and another lingering one about the sweet old +room and went quickly down stairs arriving just in time to hear Anne’s +low murmured: + +“She says she’ll not come down. She’s not feeling so good,” and to +vision her father’s relief at the message. + +At the head of the stairs, Athalie with velvet tread had crept to the +railing to listen, and peer over from the shadows of the upper hall as +they went to the old stately dining room, father and daughter, for their +first meal together. As they disappeared and the heavy door closed +silently behind them the girl learned far over the baluster and made an +ugly face ending in a hiss. Then as stealthily as she had come she crept +back to her room, closed the door, locked it, rummaged among her luggage +for a five pound box of chocolates and a novel and established herself +amid pillows on the foot of the big old bed. + +Anne Truesdale came up presently with a laden tray of good things, but +Athalie with her face smothered in the pillow and her chocolates and +book hid out of sight declined any sustenance. Whereupon Anne, pausing +thoughtfully in the hall, finally scuttled down the dark narrow back +stairs and whisked the tray out of sight, deciding that the master +should not know of this hunger strike yet. + +After lunch Silver and her father went back to the library for a time, +and their low voices in steady cheerful conversation were not soothing +to the other daughter’s nerves. She tiptoed to the open window to see if +she could hear any words, but found she could not on account of a family +of sparrows who were nesting in the honeysuckle below and seemed to have +been retained for the purpose of chattering. + +About half past two Silver and her father went out together down the +street. Athalie watched them from the shelter of the window curtain +frowning and noting the amicable footing on which they seemed to be. + +They went to the station and reclaimed the girl’s suitcase. On the way +back they stopped at the old church and walked slowly through the +graveyard, the father pointing out the names on the white stones, of +those who would be of interest to her among her unknown kin, the girl’s +face kindling with tender emotions as she read the records mossy with +age. + +While they were gone the village expressman arrived with four immense +trunks and three wooden boxes. Athalie arose with alacrity from her +couch of pain and superintended their installment in the house. + +“You can bring the two wardrobe trunks right in here and unpack them at +once,” she informed Anne Truesdale haughtily. “I shall need more closet +room. I think I’ll take that room across the hall. You might put the +other two trunks and the boxes there till we get them unpacked. I shall +probably use that for my boudoir.” + +“That is the spare bedroom,” said Anne coldly but firmly. “There’s a +trunk room in the attic where your trunks can be stored.” Athalie gave +her a withering look, but such looks had no effect on Anne. She went her +way and called the faithful servitor. He managed an extra hand from the +street, to help the expressman, and Athalie’s mammoth trunks were +carried slowly up the stairs. Nothing so huge in the way of a trunk had +ever entered that house before, and Anne stood aghast as the first one +hove in sight and cast a quick and calculating eye toward the attic +stairs. But when she saw how heavy they all were she changed her mind. +They should go no farther until they were unpacked. So the first was +placed in the back hall for further consideration, while the remaining +three proved to be so enormous that Anne demanded the key and down in +the wide old front hall Athalie’s frivolous possessions were brought to +light and carried up in the abashed and indignant arms of the three +old-fashioned servants, who looked upon the trifles of lingerie with +averted gaze and felt that the daring evening frocks of scarlet and +silver and turquoise were little short of blasphemies. They hastened +them up to the oblivion of the second floor before the master should +return, and Anne stood for a full minute gazing out of the hall window +across the sunny meadow and pondering whether she ought not perhaps to +have left them all down on the back porch where the boxes had been +remanded, until the return of the master. Such doings! And a young girl +who ought to be in leading strings yet. Four trunks! What would Miss +Lavinia have said! + +Athalie meanwhile was rummaging among her brilliant raiment, pulling out +this and that, deciding what she would wear next after she had +sufficiently cowed that hard-hearted father of hers, and finally +burrowed her way among silks and organdies to her chocolates and her +pillow again, deciding not to put anything away until that objectionable +“Anne” person came to do her bidding. She felt she must make it +understood from the start that she would be waited upon. Anne wasn’t +much like her mother’s maid, but such as she was she must be reduced to +obedience. Perhaps she could coax her father to let her have a French +maid all her own, a young girl about her own age. That would be rather +fun. + + + + + IX + + +While Athalie was thus engaged her father and Silver were wandering +through the quiet graveyard, talking of the past. The man found himself +telling his child about his own boyhood, his aunt, his uncle, the old +minister, the long sweet services in the quaint old church. There was no +bitterness in his voice now as he spoke of the religion of those who had +brought him up. Something softening had come upon him. He hardly +understood himself. + +And then suddenly they had come upon the young minister, stooping over a +little new made grave, working with some violet plants in full bloom, +planting them in the mellow soil until the little mound became a lovely +couch. + +They did not see him until they were almost upon him, and then he rose +quickly, his hands covered with earth, his hat on the back of his head, +his dark hair curling in little moist waves about his white forehead, +and a light of welcome in his face: + +“I’m just fixing up this place a bit before the mother comes,” he +explained. “It looked so desolate and bare, and this was her only +child!” He stooped again and pressed the earth firmly about the violets, +with strong capable fingers, arranging the plants as he talked till the +whole little mound was one mass of lovely bloom. Then he rose, dusted +the earth away from his hands and strolled along with them. + +“Would you like a glimpse of the old church?” he flashed a smile at +Silver. + +“Oh, I would!” she exclaimed eagerly, “grandmother used to tell me +stories of my father’s home, all she knew, and she always told about the +old church. Mother was here—once—wasn’t she?” She looked up shyly at +her father who was walking absent mindedly, sadly beside the young +people, his hands clasped behind him as if his thoughts were far in the +past. He started as she asked the question, and a pain seemed to stab +into his eyes as of one who is suddenly brought to view something long +lost and very dear: + +“Yes, yes! Your mother was here! On our wedding trip! We went to church. +We sat in the old pew. She wore a little white hat with white flowers on +it, and a thin blue dress—!” It was as if he were musing over a beloved +picture. The minister and the girl exchanged swift understanding +glances. + +“We will go in,” said the young man, “I have the key.” + +He unlocked the old oaken door and the sunshine poured behind them into +the ancient hall, lighting up the well-kept red ingrain carpet and +meeting the sunshine that poured down from a stained glass window above +in curious blended dancing colors like the pattern of some +well-remembered hymn sacred to many services held within those holy +courts. + +Patterson Greeves walked beside the young Alice as he had walked beside +her mother up those stairs to the assembly room above, so many years +ago, and saw again in imagination the eager friends of his youth leaning +over the grained oak railing to get the first glimpse of the bride. Felt +again the swell of pride in the girl he had chosen, remembered the look +of pleasure in the eyes of his Uncle Standish as he met them at the head +of the stairs and escorted them down the aisle to the pew, and Alice’s +smile as she looked up at him. Ah! That he had thought was to be the +beginning of life! And only one short year it lasted! Then all turned to +bitterness and night! Fool that he had been that he had thought anything +so heavenly could have lasted on this earth! That he had believed there +existed a God who cared for him and planned for him! Ah! Well—! +Bitterness! + +The blood rolled over his frame in a sickly, prickly, smothering wave, +and he mopped his brow with his handkerchief, and wondered why he had +let himself in for this sort of thing after all these years? Why had he +come down to the old church so full of memories? + +Then he lifted his eyes to his girl who stood in the open doorway of the +assembly room now, framed in all her girlish beauty against the +background of the rich coloring of the church, its jewelled windows +casting rich fantastic lights in a rainbow flood of beauty, glancing +away from the cluster of gilt organ pipes, glinting the gold fringe of +the pulpit Bible bookmark, focussing on the blood red of the bright old +carpet, and beating it into a tessellated aisle of precious gems, +mellowing the age worn woodwork of the square high pews, and the +carvings of the pulpit and red plush pulpit chairs. There was something +in the look of his girl as she stood there against that background with +all the heritage of her grandfather’s and grandmother’s religion behind +her that took away the pain again, and made him watch her breathlessly, +and trace out every likeness to the mother who was gone, made him glad +that she had come in spite of all the pain. Even glad of the pain, if it +brought this vision. + +The minister was explaining about the organ. “Not a wonderful organ, and +a bit old, but one of the good old makes, and with two or three +beautiful stops.” Did she play? She did. He was sure she did. Wouldn’t +she try the organ? + +“Her mother could play! Oh, she could play!” + +Greeves had spoken without intending, but the other two gave no sign +that they had seen the emotion in his face. + +“Yes, I know,” the girl said quietly. “I studied with her teacher for +two years. He was an old man but he was wonderful. After he died +grandfather sent me away to study for awhile.” + +They lingered nearly an hour in the church, the girl drawing sweet +harmonies from the old yellow keys, the minister lingering near, calling +for this and that favorite, while Greeves sat long in the old family pew +and read without seeing them the old familiar texts twined among the +fresco, “THE LORD IS IN HIS HOLY TEMPLE. LET ALL THE EARTH KEEP SILENCE +BEFORE HIM.” Even now after the years it sounded a certain note of awe +in his soul, an echo of the old days when God was real and life a rare +vista before him. There were the same old windows. He used to count the +medallions in the border when the sermon was unusually long. There was +the shepherd and the lambs, and the first verse of the twenty-third +psalm. There was the storm one, purple clouds driven hard across an iron +sky, trees and shrubs bowing before it, and the inscription, “FOR IN THE +TIME OF TROUBLE HE SHALL HIDE ME IN HIS PAVILLION. IN THE SECRET OF HIS +TABERNACLE SHALL HE HIDE ME.” + +How firmly he used to believe in that when he was a child! How truly he +expected to take refuge in that tabernacle if any storm overtook him! +And how far he was now from any refuge. What a farce it had been! +Beautiful while it lasted. But a farce! He drew himself up with a +shudder of disgust at it all and the tones of the organ caught him as +Silver’s fingers trailed over the keys while she talked in low tones +with the minister: + + “Nearer my God to Thee, + Nearer to Thee—” + +It had been Aunt Lavinia’s favorite, and it stung its way into his soul +in spite of his intention otherwise. He could hear her singing it, +twilights in the nursery when she held him on her lap, his earliest +remembrance, while her eyes watched the evening sky grow red and gray +and deepen into starry blue, and the look about her mouth told him even +in his baby days that there was something sad back somewhere in her +life, something that she might have given up, possibly for him. + +“Nearer my God to Thee, E’en though it be a cross—” + +He could hear the gentle murmur of her timid voice in that very pew as +he had sat beside her many years. Ah! The tears stung into his eyes +unaccountably after all these years. And he? His song had been: + + “Farther my God from Thee, + Farther from Thee—!” + +How Aunt Lavinia would have agonized in prayer before her deep old +wing-chair if she could have known! He had seen her kneeling once thus, +in her decorous high-necked long-sleeved night dress with the little +tatted ruffles round her throat and wrists, her eyes closed, her gentle +face illuminated with a wistful joy that had awed him, her lips +murmuring softly words of pleading for him: + +“O God, bless our little Pat. Make him grow up a good man, loving God +more than all else in life! Make him sorry for his sins! Make him love +righteousness and hate wrong—” + +The words were indelibly graven on his soul. He had not thought of them +in years but they were there just as sharply discernible as when that +day he stole into her room to ask some trivial request for the next +day’s pleasure, and came upon her unaware, and stood breathless as in +the presence of the Most High, stealing away on tiptoe not to disturb +her, lying wakeful in his bed till far into the night—! Ah! He turned +sharply toward the two and his voice jarred a discord as he spoke to +break the spell of solemnity. + +“Come home with us and take dinner! Bannard!” + +He had not intended to give that invitation. It had been the farthest +from his thoughts but a moment before, his tongue had spoken without +leave. But now that it was given he found ease in the thought of a +guest. Why not? He liked the young man. A guest more or less made little +difference in the strange make up of his sudden family. Perhaps it might +even help out the embarrassing situation. But he was not prepared for +the quick lighting of the young man’s face. + +“That would be great!” he responded, “But—” and his eyes sought the +girl’s face for the flicker of a glance. “Are you quite sure you +want—guests this first evening?” + +“Oh, yes, come along!” said Greeves impatiently, half sorry now he had +asked him, yet determined not to go back on his invitation. And Silver’s +eyes gave him pleasant impersonal welcome. + +“I’ll be there at five o’clock,” he said looking at his watch, “I must +meet the little mother out in the cemetery first, and there’s an old man +who is dying—I must drop in there a few moments. I think I can make it +by five. Will that be too soon? There’s something I’ve been wanting to +talk over with you ever since I knew you were coming. Will you have a +few minutes to spare?” + +“Make it by five and we’ll have tea in the garden. Silver-Alice can you +make tea?” His tone was a shy attempt at playfulness but it brought a +great light into the girl’s eyes as she turned a sparkling face: + +“Oh, surely!” + +“Then make it five. I acquired a foreign habit of drinking tea in the +afternoon while I was over there. We’ll have plenty of time for a talk +then. We dine at seven.” Then suddenly it occurred to him that he had +another daughter awaiting him and that the prospect was anything but +pleasant, so with an almost brusque manner he took a hasty leave. +Turning back at the very door he said to the minister: “Oh, by the way. +What has become of that young person, Blink, I think you called him? We +had an engagement with him this morning, hadn’t we? I had completely +forgotten it. Do you know where I could find him to make my apologies?” + +“He is washing my car at present,” laughed the minister, “I shall see +him before long and can carry your message. You needn’t worry about +Blink. He is very wise for his years.” + +“Well, suppose you tell him to drop in to dinner at seven. Tell him +we’ll talk over bait after dinner.” + +Terrence Bannard’s eyes registered appreciation. + +“Thank you,” said he, “I doubt if he’ll come. He’s shy and proud among +ladies, but he’ll appreciate the invitation.” + +“Oh, that’s all right!” said the older man not in the least realizing +that he was getting a party of proportions on his hands, but determined +to discharge his obligations to the young friend of the evening before. +“Tell him to come. I liked him.” + +They were gone down the maple-shaded street, and the minister stood for +an instant in the doorway watching the graceful girl as she walked +beside her father, with a look in his eyes which would have brought the +spy glasses of his congregation to play upon him if any had been there +to tell the tale. + +Meanwhile, Athalie, never long content at a time, grew restless under +her story, and wriggling out from the finery on the bed stole to the +door and listened. All was quiet belowstairs save a distant subdued +kitchen sound somewhere off toward the back. That impudent housekeeper +was away about her business. Now was Athalie’s time to pry. + +Removing her shoes and substituting blue satin mules she stole +cautiously down the hall, and tried her father’s door, the front room on +the same side of the hall with her own, but separated by deep closets, +one belonging to her room, the other to his. + +She stood curiously staring about. It was a boy’s room, with college +photographs and pennants, football groups, and Lacrosse sticks, being +its chief adornings. Only a Gladstone bag fitted with toilet articles, +and a locked suitcase gave evidence of the entrance of the owner after +the years of absence. Patterson Greeves had been too weary and too +perturbed to unpack or make any changes since his arrival the night +before. Athalie made very sure that there was nothing among his +belongings to give any clue to his present character. She went +stealthily from bag to suitcase, even opened bureau drawers, but no +picture, or letter or anything was brought to light that might be of +possible interest, though she conducted her search with the manner and +wisdom of a young detective. + +Coming out she closed the door again and stole across the hall to the +room that had been Aunt Lavinia’s. + +Her eyes took in the details sharply, the old-fashioned neatness and +comfort, the quiet beauty of the room, and the fact that the other girl +had been taken there rather than herself, the front room, the best room +in the house, with the big sunny windows to the street and at the side! +Jealousy filled her heart and her full petulant lips came out in ugly +lines. She walked quickly to the bed, snatched Silver’s hat and gloves +and flung them across the room behind a chair. She took up her handbag +and went through it carefully, ruthlessly, tearing in half and restoring +to its silken pocket a small photograph of a woman, the woman whose +portrait was down stairs she felt sure. Then she went over to the closet +and flung wide the door. After a moment’s survey of two or three +shrouded dresses of ancient fashion that hung there she gathered them up +and flung them on a chair. Then she went back to her own room and +selected an armful of her gayest garments and returning began to hang +them on the hooks. + +All at once she became aware that someone was near, and turning, her +arms still half full of finery, she found herself facing Silver. + +Not in the least abashed she looked her up and down contemptuously a +full second before either spoke. Then Athalie spoke: + +“Well! Who are _you_?” she asked rudely. + +“I beg your pardon,” said Silver hesitating on the threshold, “am I +intruding? Have I made a mistake? I was told this was my room—” + +“Well, it _isn’t_,” said Athalie roughly, “I’m going to take it myself! +I don’t like the room that old frump gave me so I’m moving over here. +You can have my room when I get out if you’re going to stay over night. +I’m Athalie Greeves, and this is my father’s house, so _what I say +goes_!” + +Silver stood quite still for an instant, the smile frozen on her lips, +her eyes taking in the details of this impossible sister, her ears +trying to refuse the evidence of the sounds they had heard. Something +seemed to flicker and go out in her face, a stricken look flitted over +it, succeeded by a sweet dignity and a lifting of her chin that in +another might have amounted to haughtiness. Then she said quietly: + +“I see. Well, I will not trouble you.” + +She walked over to the other side of the bed, recovered her hat and +gloves, took up her handbag, and went out and down the stairs. Athalie +did not stop to notice where she went nor care. She went on arranging +her garments on the hooks, an ugly expression on her heavy young brow. + +Silver passed quietly down stairs and found an unobtrusive resting place +for hat and gloves on the console in the depth of the wide hall, and +then went on to the now open door that gave to a wide bricked terrace +with the garden just below, reached by mossy brick steps set in the sod, +and edged by crocuses and daffodils. Beyond, a flare of color and the +perfume of hyacinths and tulips lured the senses, and the subtle breath +of lilies-of-the-valley stole from out the deep green border of the +terrace. Silver stood for a moment looking out and trying to quiet the +excited beating of her heart from the encounter. Trying to think what +she ought to do. Wondering why her father had said nothing about this +strange inmate of the house. Wondering why she had forgotten to ask him +who the girl was she had seen on the stairs when she arrived. Thinking +that in all likelihood the attitude of this other girl would make even a +visit to her father impossible, and grieving at the thought. + +Already Molly and Anne Truesdale were bustling about, setting out a +leaved table on the terrace, spreading it with fine old embroidered +linen and delicate cups of other days, quaint heavy silver, plates of +delectable cookies, and squares of spicy gingerbread. The pleasant +garden and the bright show of flowers, the coming guest and the air of +happiness seemed not to belong to her. She felt a sudden loneliness, as +if she were intruding, abashed in the presence of the things she could +enjoy, appalled by the fact of this other girl in the house. The story +then had been true that they had heard, that there had been a child by +her father’s second marriage. And she must have lived instead of dying +as rumor had brought to them. Her father had never written a word about +either birth or death to her grandfather and grandmother. She wondered +again why? Her loyal heart refused to admit that her father had been +wrong. He was her father. Perhaps there was some excuse. Perhaps there +was some explanation. + +Sudden tears came at this juncture and threatened to overflow. In a +panic she withdrew into the shadows of the hall lest the servants should +see her, and almost ran into her father’s arms as he came down toward +the door to see if his orders had been understood. He passed a loving +arm around her, gently, as if he were almost afraid to touch her, almost +shyly, she thought, and he whispered very low: + +“I’m glad you’ve come—Silver-Alice!” + +Then Anne bustled in to ask some question and Silver slipped back to the +library for a moment searching for her handkerchief, and so got control +of herself. She came back to walk down the terrace with her father and +see the places where he used to play as a child, and hear all about the +old fountain and the fairy tales he used to make up about it. Walking +thus she almost forgot the sister upstairs who was so ungracious, almost +forgot that sometime she would have to speak about her if her father did +not speak first. + +There was a cloud on her father’s brow. She noticed it first as they +paused beside the sun-dial and she traced the line of clear-cut shadow +half between the four and five of the quaint old figures. A sun-dial. +How delightful! It was like digging up antiquities. Her heart leaped to +the poetry of it. Then she looked up and saw the shadow on the stern sad +face above her. Something was troubling him. What was it? Her presence +here? Perhaps he knew how distasteful it was to the girl upstairs, and +he did not know what to do. Perhaps it was best for her not to stay at +all—perhaps—! + +She put out a wistful hand and touched his sleeve: + +“Father!” + +“Yes,” he said as if answering the thought of her heart. “There is +something I must tell you, child. Come over to the old arbor and let us +sit down. It is—unpleasant.” + +“Is it about—Athalie, father?” she asked as she turned to follow him. + +He stopped and looked at her astonished. + +“How did you know? Had any one sent you word she was coming?” with quick +suspicion in his voice. Lilla was quite capable of preparing such a +setting for the advent of her daughter. She seemed to have a sort of +demoniacal insight into what would be exquisite torture for him. But +Silver shook her head. + +“Oh, no. But I saw her standing on the stairs behind you when I arrived, +and again up stairs just now. She was moving her things into the room +where I had laid off my hat. She asked me who I was. I am almost sure +she does not like my coming. I think—father—_dear_, it isn’t quite +convenient for you to have me visit you just now. I believe it would be +better if I went back tonight and perhaps came again later, in a few +years when she is older, or away on a visit or something. I would not +like to make you trouble. And it has been wonderful to see you and to +talk with you for even this short time. I shall never feel quite alone +in the world again now that I know I have a father—_such_ a father!” + +“Stop!” His voice was choked with consternation, anger, something else +that sounded almost like humility! Strange to see that expression +sitting unaccustomedly on Patterson Greeves’ haughty features. + +“Don’t say any more things like that Silver,” he said brokenly, “I can’t +bear them. It is bad enough to have got in such a mess. Bad enough to +have a daughter like that! Bad enough to have her come here +unannounced—she came only a few minutes before you did—without having +you reproach me by flying up and leaving. You _cannot_ leave me now my +child! You must stay by and help me. _I need you!_” + +“Oh, father, dear!” She put out a loving hand to his arm again and he +drew her within his embrace and down the path toward the summer house. + +It was so that Athalie saw them as coming to the window of her own room, +her arms full of more finery, she stood and gazed. Suddenly she dropped +her armful, and great jealous tears of rage welled into her large bold +eyes. From her handsome full lips a smothered sound almost like a roar +of some enraged young animal came and was quickly suppressed. For a +moment she watched then she turned about and began to search wildly +among the confusion of clothing on bed and chairs, and to hastily array +herself in other attire. + + + + + X + + +About this time also, Blink, having received the invitation by word of +mouth from the minister, and not having declared himself either way +about accepting it, repaired to the meadow lot opposite the Silver place +and proceeded to fill a large tin can with the choicest bait the town +afforded from a private and secret source underneath some old rotting +logs which had long furnished him with better angles than any other boy +was able to produce. He was not yet sure whether he would go to the +party, but he would at least be ready with an offering should the fates, +when the time arrived, seem propitious. + +Sooner than he had expected the can was filled, and he lay back on the +sweet smelling turf of the meadow and gazed up at the blue of the sky, +watching the tiny, lazy, gauzy clouds that floated slowly, drifting like +thistle down whither it happened. It was easy to feel he was floating on +one of them drifting too. He often did that. It was his way of reading +poetry. He read a great deal of living poetry at that stage of his +existence. + +Lying so with a clump of blue violets close to his hand, and the tinkle +of a cow bell not far away he could drift and think of a great many +things that an ordinary boy in the everyday of life wouldn’t consider +profitable for one of his standing. + +Out of the tale of his eye he saw the minister, presently, going in the +white gate between the hedges. He thought of the little grave covered +with violets, and the young mother, a social outcast, with her new +sorrow and bewilderment in her face. No one had told him about it. It +was one of those things that Blink always knew. By and by he would slip +back to the cemetery and water those flowers. It wouldn’t be necessary +for the minister to bother with that. The flowers would just grow all +right and he could let them off his mind. Blink knew how to relieve him +at odd little phases of the way. The minister was a good scout. If Silas +Pettigrew made any more of those pharisaical remarks about the minister +letting handsome young women of the street go to some “mother in Israel” +when they were in trouble he would see that he found a way to tell Silas +where to get off. Silas wasn’t such a saint anyway if he _was_ an elder +in the church! There was that time when he bought Widow Emmet’s house +for twenty-five hundred dollars and then discovered the very next day +that the railroad would buy it at twelve thousand to complete their new +franchise, and he never let the widow in on the deal! Old cotton mouth! +Thinking he could put one over on the town, and get the minister in +Dutch with the old tabbies, just because that poor girl—when everybody +knew young Sil Pettigrew—but _there_! + +He watched with satisfaction as the great door opened with a glimpse of +Anne in black silk and sheer collar. He too might be thus received later +in the evening if he so chose. He reflected that “the girl” would be +there. It seemed a pleasing circumstance. She liked dogs. She was all +right. + +Then suddenly his attention was attracted to a motion, a shadow, what +was it moving at an upper side window of the house. Someone was climbing +out to the pergola below, a boy it looked like, heavily built with a +shock of football hair, knee trousers, and a strange belted kind of +jacket. + +He sat up stealthily, leaning on one elbow, his young face growing grave +as he watched. Now who the deuce could that be? Not a burglar, this time +of afternoon, sun still up? Still. That wasn’t any town figure, none of +the boys’ shoulders that shape, nor hair. It might be a disguise +but—how pink the face looked, like a Chinese painting on a fan! + +Without taking his eyes from the object of his attention he made ready +to take a hasty departure. One hand went out and secured the can of +bait. His mind turned over the available hiding places where he might +store it safely. How clumsy that guy was! Wasn’t much of a climber. What +in time was he doing up there in that house anyway? + +Slowly the figure crept to the front of the pergola, glanced cautiously +around, peeked back and over the vines as if watching some one, and then +dropped heavily down among the myrtle beds. A moment more and he saw it +rise, jamb a curious looking mushroom hat down over the shock of hair, +and come out the gate to the street, with furtive glances back toward +the house. The whole attitude of the person showed secrecy and stealth. +Once outside the gate it turned toward the direction of the stores and +walked rapidly with a free stride despite its stocky build. + +Blink arose from his bed of green and lost no time in following. The can +of bait was deposited in the hollow of a tree a rod from the street, and +Blink was over the fence and making good time in a trice. The stranger +was still in sight, had passed the first cross street and was almost to +the drug store. Blink fell into a lope and made the garage diagonally +across from the drug store just as the figure paused, one foot on the +step, one hand on the latch and looked up and down the street. He had a +full view of her face. Good night! It was a _girl_! A girl in knickers! +They passed through the town sometimes, girls like that, out on walks +with men Sundays and holidays, but there were none indigenous to the +soil of Silver Sands. It was _not done_! And look at her face! Ye gods. +Fell in the flour barrel! Painted like an image! Good night! Did a girl +think she was nice looking that way he would like to know? And coming +from the Silver house! How was it possible? Blink did not use the word +“incongruous” in common parlance but it was the way he felt. For one +awful second he experienced deep and horrible disappointment. “The +girl.” She liked dogs but she was like that! Then instantly the thing +was impossible. No, she hadn’t been a fat thing like that. She wasn’t +the same one. But who was she? Some interloper? How did she get there +without his knowing? Did the family know? What did she have to do with +them? Oughtn’t something to be done about it? + +Since he had been able to walk alone Blink had been a self-constituted +member of the police force of Silver Sands. He belonged to a clan who +seldom said what they meant, seldom talked but in parables, and kept +their eyes open. Many a wrong had been righted and a petty criminal +saved through their ministrations to become a worthy citizen after due +chastisement and discipline. They reserved the right to use their own +judgment, and on occasion had been known to evade the law for their own +wise and worthy reasons, to save an underlying principle which in their +opinion would be lost if the law had its course. The strangest part of +it all was that the outcome usually would seem to warrant the venture, +and occasionally the Chief of Police himself had been known to wink at +some open break on the part of the boy because he had come to have utter +faith in his working principle. Blink had been known to search out the +criminal and the facts in some mystery more than once where others had +failed to get a clue, and the Chief always felt it well to keep in with +Blink. He took him with him now and again when a raid on some lawbreaker +was imminent. He had faith in Blink’s intuition. + +Blink himself had unerring faith in his own judgment. It was to him like +a clear magnifying glass that had been given him at birth, which showed +up Truth, and he couldn’t see why other people didn’t exercise the same +faculty. They all must have the same thing if they only used it. + +Athalie seeing nothing else down the principal business street more +attractive than the drug store, opened the door and went in. Blink +leaned up against the show window of the garage in front of a great +pasteboard model of a new kind of tire, looked idly up and down the +street and saw every move the strange girl made. + +She looked about the store with that curious appraising glance she gave +to everything the first time of seeing, and then turned into one of the +two telephone booths that huddled by the corner window, close to the +entrance door. She took the front one facing the door and seemed to be +looking through the book for a number. When she had taken down the +receiver, Blink, without seeming to have been looking that way, +sauntered thoughtfully across the street and entered the drug store most +casually, taking one full impersonal look at the girl’s face as he +passed. No, it was not _the_ girl. He had been pretty sure before, but +he was glad to _know_. + +And this one was pretty enough, if she hadn’t been so ghastly painted, +and such funny eyebrows, almost as if she wanted you to see she hadn’t +them in the right place. She had big brilliant white teeth, with those +vivid red lips like the clown in the circus, and she had a hard bold +look in her eyes. When he entered she was talking and laughing +boisterously. She could be heard all over the store, if there had been +anyone around to hear but stupid Sam Hutchins the “soda” clerk. + +Blink stalked over to the counter and threw down a nickel for a package +of life savers, and then as if he had had no other purpose in entering +he sauntered straight to the other telephone booth and shut himself in +to a careful inspection of the W’s in the telephone directory. Not that +he wanted anyone with a name beginning with W. It was just the first +page he happened to open. + +Clear and distinct came the voice from the booth ahead: + +“Now _Bobs_! You don’t mean you didn’t know my voice! Well, I’ll say +that’s a slam! I’m off you for life! Oh! Really? Awwww—Bobbbbs! Now, +that’s awfully _darling_ of you!” + +Blink was disgusted. Just one of these foolish Janes. He had heard them +talk before, only why did they want to dress like a man, and why should +one of them climb out of a second story window in the Silver house? He +slammed the book shut and called up the captain of a neighboring +baseball team in the next township. He was disgusted with himself for +caring. He would listen no more. It was likely some queer visitor. But +one thing was settled. He was not going to the Silver house that night. +Not with so many girls about. He couldn’t stand girls! + +“Is that you kid? Oh, isn’t he? Well, call him won’t you? I’ll wait. +This is Blink. Yes, Blink. _I_ said it.” + +“Boom!” came the girl’s voice into his waiting. “Well, you’ve got to +come and get me, Bobs. You said you would if I sent for you. I’m having +a horrid time. No, I haven’t been down to meals. I didn’t have any +success at all. If it hadn’t been for your five pounder I’d have +starved. Yes, been on a hunger strike. But honestly, Bobs, it’s no use. +I simply can’t stick it out! I shall expire. Can’t you come down this +evening and take me a ride? No, he’d never find it out. I’ve retired to +my room with a sick headache, see? He expects to hear nothing more from +me till morning. I’ve shocked him so hard he would be glad if he never +had to see me any more. I’ll make him sit up and take notice yet. I +promised Lilla I would and I mean to keep my word. But Bobs, you’ve +simply got to stand by or I sha’n’t survive. Aw, come on, Bobs! I’ve +found a way to get in the window. We can stay as late as we like. Nobody +will ever find it out. I can shin up the pergola. Oh, sure! I useta do +it in gym. . . . Aw, _why_ Bobs? . . . . I think you’re _too mean_—! +. . . . Well, then, how about t’morra? . . . . You won’t stand me up? +. . . . Well, if you do all right for you! . . . . Where will I meet +you? . . . . Why I’m down at the drug store now. Couldn’t you come here? +. . . . Aw why? . . . . I don’t see. What do I care for these country +simps! Let ’em tell dad! I’ll have the fun first won’t I? Leave it to +me. I’ll get away with it. . . . What is it you’re afraid of, you poor +fish? Your reputation? Well I like that! I didn’t know you had any! +. . . . All right, Bobs. I’ll come. Where do you say it is? Walk over +the bridge at the other end of the village? . . . Yes. . . . Woods? On +the right hand side? . . . . I didn’t get that. Oh, you want me to walk +in a little way from the road out of sight? . . . . I see. Yes. Sure. +All right, I’ll be there, Bobs. Four o’clock sharp! But don’t you be +late or fail me. If you do I’ll never speak to you again, Bobs. And I’ll +tell Lilla how mean you were. No, I’ll tell her you said she was getting +_old_. That’ll get her goat! Then she won’t speak to you either! . . . . +All right, Bobs. I’ll be there!” + +The receiver hung up with a click and the girl adjourned to the soda +water counter where she tried various compounds and chatted affably with +Sam Hutchins in a lofty patronizing tone, telling him how to prepare the +special concoctions they used to get at school. She made out quite a +respectable lunch, what with the sponge cake they kept in a glass +showcase, and several chocolate ice cream sundaes. Certainly enough to +keep the breath of life in her plump well cared for body until the next +morning, and then she took her leave and stalked on down the street to +the end of the village and crossed the bridge. Blink went across to the +garage, borrowed a motor cycle, and took a breezy turn that way himself. +He felt that this young adventuress needed a chaperone. She came from +the house of a man he liked and loyalty to his friends, even his very +new friends, was one of Blink’s specialties. He felt instinctively that +Patterson Greeves would not like a guest of his whoever she might be to +be sailing through the open country side alone in such a garb at the +hour when the workmen from the quarry half a mile below the town would +be coming home. + +So he chortled noisily by her on his wheezy steed and sailed on down the +road, arranging to have something the matter with the cycle about the +time she turned off the road toward the woods, which made it necessary +for him to dismount and get down in the road to examine into it. + +Athalie did not stay in the woods very long. Nature unadorned never had +much attraction for her. She entered a narrow winding path, followed it +to a log a few rods within the thick grove, and sat down. But solitude +never appealed to Athalie, and after a moment’s reconnoitering she came +back to the road again and pursued a monotonous way to the village. + +“Fat thing!” reflected Blink contemptuously jogging along behind at a +sickly pace for one of his ambitions. Whenever he came too near he had +to stop and examine his engine again, but in course of time the two +arrived in the neighborhood of the drug store. Athalie went in, +purchased some salted almonds and went on to her father’s house. Blink +returned his motor cycle, and took a back way to the meadow, arriving in +plenty of time to watch the lady mount the pergola and enter her window +once more. + +The incident finished, Blink sat for some minutes turning it over in his +mind, decided there was something here that needed further +investigation, and that he must accept the invitation to the house and +see what he might see, although he could not bring himself to go through +the agony of a dinner with _girls_. To this end he picked himself up +from the ground, retrieved his can of bait and took the shortest cut to +his home, where he began a thorough search for a clean shirt and its +accompaniments. + +Athalie, having regained the stronghold of her room was about to return +to her task of moving her clothes to the front room closet when suddenly +the sound of a tinkling, spoon against a thin china cup, and a ripple of +soft laughter, with an undertone of heavier gaiety sent her flying to +her window. + +For an instant her face took on the wild look of a young savage as she +gazed down at the pretty tea table set out on the terrace below, the +plate of thin bread and butter, so tempting to her bonbon-jaded +appetite, the orange marmalade like drops of amber, the dainty dish of +sugar cookies, thin and attractive in clover leaf form. The whiff of +orange pekoe wafted up as Silver passed her father his cup. Tea on the +terrace and she not even told! And there was that stunning-looking man +again! Who was he? Did that other girl think she would take possession +of him too as well as her father, and the house, and the best room, and +everything? Well, they would find out! She was going down at once. She +would show that stuck up girl—! + +Athalie turned from the window after a moment more and began to fly +around with catlike tread, dropping off garments and sliding into +others, searching wildly amid the mass of finery for the thing she +wanted. It was a coral crêpe she finally chose, with a low cut bodice of +silver cloth, and startling touches of black velvet fastened with +jewelled buckles. + +She worked frantically over her complexion and brushed out her permanent +waves until they looked like an electric sign. A platinum chain like a +breath of air about her plump white neck held a single jewel like a drop +of dew. In her ears were long jet earrings, giving her a more brazen +expression than ever. Her large pink arms were guiltless of sleeves as +she stood before the mirror, turning this way and that on the high heels +of her little silver slippers into which her plump feet seemed to be +fairly forced. She was well pleased with herself. Probably this wasn’t +exactly the right kind of costume according to social rules, for that +early hour in the day, but at least it was effective, and that was all +she really cared. She felt that she could afford to be a law unto +herself. + +As she took her final glimpse and tiptoed toward the door she seemed +like some great gay bird with a large part of its gaudy plumage plucked +away. The floating coral and silver were inadequate. “Naked” was what +Anne Truesdale expressed it to herself as she stood in frozen horror +behind the pantry door with a plate of fresh cookies and watched the +bright apparition move out of the door to the terrace and stand a +moment, “the very devil of a smile on her lips” as Tom who was watching +behind the lilacs afterwards told his wife Molly. + +Then Patterson Greeves with his cup half way to his lips, and a look of +comfort and relaxation on his brow, suddenly looked up and stared. They +all looked up and saw her. Athalie came forward, her eyes fixed straight +upon the minister, her most coaxing spoiled-baby look on her pink +over-fed face. + + + + + XI + + +If a cavern had opened beneath his feet revealing dead men’s bones +Patterson Greeves could not have been more shaken. He was white with +consternation as he faced his astounding daughter and trembled. + +“I hope you haven’t eaten everything up,” she said airily, coming +forward, “I’m simply dying of starvation. Why don’t you introduce me, +dad?” + +She stood facing the young man, her bare pink shoulders turned toward +her step-sister utterly ignoring her, her whole forward young +personality flaunting itself at Man in the concrete, this man in +particular, the kind of an appeal that a woman of her mother’s sort +always uses with a good man to disarm his disapproval. Greeves +recognized instantly Lilla’s arts and ways with himself, and pain and +rage shot through his heart. Why had he not understood it then? Why had +he let himself be fooled? Would this young man be inveigled? He glanced +anxiously toward his guest and saw that the minister’s eyes were meeting +Silver’s in a quick look of understanding as if the two had joined +forces to protect him against the humiliation his daughter was bringing +upon him. Ah! so might the memory of Silver’s mother have protected him +if he had not been too sore and bitter to let it! Fool! Fool! Was he +destined to go always from this time seeing nothing but his folly, his +everlasting folly that was bringing with it retribution now? Athalie, +his daughter, seemed to him an embodiment of his own sins, come back +after years to torment him. Was this what hell meant? The old-fashioned +hell that nobody believed in any more? + +He was still standing, shaken and trembling, his cup in his hand, but +nobody was paying any attention to him. He gradually realized this and +was glad. They were trying to help him. Silver had poured a cup of tea +and held it out to her sister, but Athalie ignored it, as if it were a +ghost she did not see, and reaching out poured another for herself. + +“Isn’t there any lemon?” she asked looking the table over. “Quinn bring +some lemon. I never take cream. Why don’t you pass the cakes, Mr. Man?” +She was addressing the minister with a pert freedom that made Silver +turn her eyes away in pain for her father’s embarrassment. But the young +man handed the plate of cookies with a gentle impersonal dignity that +seemed to take the edge from the girl’s audacity and put her down in the +class of a child who knew no better than to take the centre of +publicity. + +“Gracious but you’re a grouch!” commented Athalie gaily, looking +straight into his eyes with her bold black ones, “won’t you smile any +more just because we haven’t been introduced? You must excuse dad, he +seems to be—” + +But just then her father stepped forward haughtily and took the cup from +the girl’s hand. + +“Athalie, you are not properly dressed to be out here. Go upstairs and +put on—a—a—_sweater_ or something,” he ended helplessly. “It is +chilly—” + +But the girl burst forth in a ripple of hoydenish laughter. + +“A sweater with an evening dress! Oh, dad! You certainly have been out +of the world. Don’t worry about me. I’m never cold. I’ll take another +cake, Quinn.” + +Patterson Greeves’ face hardened into a set helpless look. He was one +whom men had always obeyed. This embryo woman defied him openly and +something somewhere in his moral armor was so weak that he could not +meet her and conquer her. His lips shut sternly and his voice was like +icicles. + +“Then I will go farther and say that your dress is unseemly and out of +taste. What may have seemed to you fitting among girls of your school is +not in keeping with our quiet homelife in this village. We do not wear +evening dress on ordinary days and you will oblige me by finishing your +tea in your room and then changing into something less flimsy, that has +sleeves and a—a—_neck_ to it. Something more—_adequate_. Let me +introduce to you your—” he hesitated “—my eldest daughter, Silver. She +is older than you are. She will be able to advise you about your wearing +apparel. I commend you to her friendship. She is—ah—your sister, of +course, you know.” + +Silver knew instantly that her father had touched the wrong chord. +Athalie’s impudent chin went up, her eyebrows, what there was left of +them went up, her full cupid’s bow of an upper lip went up, and the +sharp red corners were drawn quickly and contemptuously down in a smirk +of hate. She did not look at Silver. She did not acknowledge the +introduction. Her big black eyes were fixed on her father who had +already turned his back having manlike cast his burden thus upon +womankind, and was moving off toward the door, with a relieved note in +his voice. + +“Come Bannard, let’s go into the library and have our talk. It grows +chilly out here already. The spring sun has not much warmth yet.” + +“Thanks! I don’t need any advice from anyone about my clothes! I +generally wear what I like!” Athalie hurled after him, her shoulders +lifted irately. But he was already inside the door and did not choose to +hear further defiance. He hurried toward the library door and drew +chairs in front of the fireplace where a fire was already laid. + +“Sit here Bannard. I’m sorry and ashamed that you should have seen my +family under these trying circumstances. What would you do with a girl +like that? What are young people coming to? Wasn’t I right in saying she +was impossible?” + +Out on the terrace Athalie whirled so that her back was turned to +Silver. So she stood facing the glow of hyacinths and tulips, herself a +flaring tulip of them all, and drank her tea in leisurely manner, helped +herself to more cake, and another cup of tea, and utterly ignored the +presence of the other girl. + +Silver, after watching her a moment stepped over toward her. + +“Listen!” she said firmly, “you might as well cut that out. It’s just as +hard for me as it is for you. He’s my father just as much as yours you +know. _He was my father first!_ We’re sisters you know. We can’t help +that—!” + +Athalie whirled on her with her eyes blazing. + +“We’re not _sisters_!” she stamped her foot. “I’ll never call you my +sister. You’ve no business here! I know all about _you_! My father _gave +you away_, and you’re _adopted_! You’re the same as dead! You have no +right to turn up and spoil my life! And you needn’t think you can get +his money away either. I’m his natural heir! The court—” + +“Stop!” cried Silver suddenly white with anger. “As if _money_ had +anything to do with it!” + +“Shut up!” flashed Athalie, “I’ll say what I please. And you needn’t +pretend you’re so awfully saintly. I know, your kind, you mealy mouthed +hypocrite! You can’t put one over on me. You’re in for the money as well +as anybody. Now I’ll give you one day to get out and stay out, and if +you don’t do it I’ll make _hell_ for you, do you understand? And I know +how to do it when I try! You’re not going to stick around here and spoil +my plans! And if you go and tell dad _you’ll be sorry_, that’s all I’ve +got to say!” + +She jerked the little gold case out of a silken hiding place among her +draperies, lighted a cigarette insolently, and flung the lighted match +full into the face of the other girl turning with another whirl, and +marching down the garden path with her cigarette atilt in her +contemptuous red lips, her gaudy draperies looking as out of place in +the quiet garden among the spring blossoms as a painted lily in the +woods. + +Silver started back from the flaring match just in time to escape the +flame, gazed in consternation for an instant after the plump arrogant +figure of the other girl and then throwing her head back she sent a +clear ringing laugh after her sister. Athalie paused in her majestic +progress to turn and stare angrily but Silver was gone into the house. + +Anne Truesdale slipped a ready arm about her as she entered the shadow +of the hall. + +“Yer not to mind, my sweetie, what a huzzy like that says. She’ll not be +here long, I’m thinking. The master was telephoning the morn’ something +about a school for her. He’ll be soon sending her kiting, the little +upstart.” + +“Oh, thank you, Mrs. Truesdale,” quivered Silver, “I’m sorry you had to +overhear this disgraceful conversation. I thought I could get her to see +things in a different way, but I see it was very unwise to speak at all. +She wasn’t in the right mood—” + +“I doubt if she has any right moods, my dearie. She’s a little sinner, +that girl is. I’ve read about ’em in the newspaper. Look at her now, +puffing away like a man, the impertinent chit. Disgracing her father and +his respectable house! The sooner she gets out of this respectable town +the better for all concerned. Her mother must be one of the devil’s own +to bring up a girl like that. Now come upstairs my dearie and I’ll help +you to dress and fix yer hair. Yer trunks haven’t come yet, but that +doesn’t matter, the master doesn’t care for things to be formal—” + +“Oh, but Mrs. Truesdale—” + +“Call me Anne, Miss Silver, I like it better. It’s what yer father +always calls me.” + +“Oh, Anne, I thank you, but I must get ready and go away. Couldn’t you +help me to go at once before my father hears anything about it? It would +only distress him to know the reason. You could just tell him that I +felt that I must go for the present, and that perhaps some day I will +come back if he wants me—or he can come to see me. I didn’t really +intend staying when I came. I have a position and I ought to begin my +work right away this week. Can you find out how soon there is a train +back to the city, and help me to get away quietly before she comes in? I +haven’t anything to pack. My suitcase hasn’t been opened yet—” + +“Indeed no, my dearie!” said Anne firmly, “I’ll no help ye to any such +fool doings. Yer not to go away at all. And my master would half kill me +if he found me a party to any such thing. Besides, can’t ye see he needs +ye just now? He’s beside hisself with grief and shame over yonder fat +young bully. Do ye think it’s a joke fer a man to come back from a far +land and find a thing like that is child o’ his? You’ll stay right where +ye are, my sweet lady, and help that distracted father o’ yours back +into sanity. Besides, he’s got company, and he’s depending on you to +help entertain him this night. He told me to open the old piano and +light a fire in the drawing room. He’s looking forward to hearing ye +sing I’m thinking, and yer not to disappoint him. He’s been a much +disappointed man already, and it’s not good fer him.” + +She drew Silver up the stairs to the bedroom where she had first taken +her, and then gazed around with a growing fury in her strong old face. + +“The young _viper_!” she exclaimed under her breath, “I’ll teach her to +upset orders! The master’s orders too!” + +Before Silver could stop her she had seized an armful of silks and +lingerie from the bed where Athalie had deposited them in her last trip, +and rushed across the hall, throwing them in a heap on the floor of the +room she had given Athalie, and was back for another. + +“But you mustn’t!” cried Silver, “it will only make her angrier. Let her +have the room she wants. I don’t care where I am put. If I stay at all, +one room will do as well as another.” + +“Indeed no!” said Anne with fire in her eye, “do you think I’m going to +have the sacred room of the dear mistress profaned by a little devil +like her? The master would in no wise allow her to enter here. He +considers his aunt’s room as a holy place, and it shows where he feels +you belong that he gave orders you should be put in here. Now my dear, +you just sit down while I empty this closet in a trice, and then I’ll +help you unpack your suitcase.” + +“But Anne, I’m sure Athalie will lay this to me. She came in while I was +up here and told me she wanted this room and I could go into the other +one.” + +“Did she indeed! The limb of Satan! Well, I’ll see that she understands +you had nothing to do with it. I’m still housekeeper here I hope, and +the master is still master! I’m not thinking he’ll take her impudence +long.” She seized another armful ruthlessly and marched them across the +hall, and in a brief space of time the closet was again cleared. + +“And look at the dear lady’s best black silk!” she crooned suddenly +discovering the garments that Athalie had flung from their hooks to the +floor, “it’s a desecration, it certainly is! If Miss Lavinia had lived +to see the day that a huzzy like that that flaunts her nakedness before +the gentlemen and tries to drag her womanhood in the dust by smoking the +vile cigarettes like a man—!” + +Anne drew her breath in a sob of grief and humiliation. + +“I’m thinking she’s what they call in the newspapers a ‘flopper’! And I +never thought when I read about their like that we’d be having a real +live flopper here in this blessed house the day! Aw! It’s a sorry day in +the old house that’s always been that respectable!” + +All the time she was babbling away in her intense voice her fingers were +flying, making the room right once more. She straightened the cover of +the little sewing table that had been twisted awry, pulled the winged +chair back to its place, picked up a wisp of malines that had floated +under the bed, and even produced a duster and wiped down the walls and +shelves of the closet, shaking as it were the very dust from the alien +garments out of the sacred chamber. + +Silver stood at the front window looking out across the field with +troubled eyes, trying to think out the horrible situation. She was +convinced that she ought not to have come, that she had followed her +heart rather than her good judgment, and probably a bit selfishly and +determinedly too, coming thus unannounced. She had wanted to forestall +any attempt on the part of her father to refuse to see her. She had +wanted him so, and now see! + +It took no very great stretch of imagination for her to realize that +this other girl was in greater need of a father than she herself. Oh +much greater! No matter how fatherless or lonely she would be she would +never be tempted to go in a wrong path or do anything to disgrace the +family. She had been too well grounded in the things of righteousness +for that. She was established. But this other girl was all too +apparently self-willed, lawless, ungoverned, like a wild little craft +set sail upon a stormy sea without a rudder, and liable to wreck not +only herself but any others that happened in her path. + +Silver was accustomed to look on life in this way; to think of what +would be good for others as well as herself. Her conscience had been +well trained and was in good working order. If she became convinced that +she ought to go no argument would keep her there. She had a duty toward +life to perform and her highest aim was to perform it aright. She was as +utterly different from the other daughter as two human souls could well +be. And how could there ever be harmony in such an ill assorted +household? + +Into the midst of her thoughts came a summons from her father. Would she +come down to the library and talk something over with himself and his +guest as soon as she was ready for dinner? + +Anne nodded approval. That settled it. She must hurry and get ready. Had +she another dress, or did she wish just to wear her suit. + +Silver, realizing that this was no time to parley when her father had a +guest, hastily shook out of her suitcase a little silk crêpe dress that +fell about her like the soft shadows of evening, the color of twilight +with gleams of silver in the fastenings that reminded one of the +afterglow in the sunset sky, and set off her delicate complexion and the +gold of her hair, making her eyes starry. The little cloud of worry on +her brow only brought out the sweet thoughtfulness and made her more +like her mother, as she entered the library a few minutes later. Her +father could scarcely take his eyes from her face. The wonder of it that +Alice’s face and form had come back in the person of her child! The +sorrow of it that he had not had the patience to wait for this and enjoy +the privilege of seeing it grow! The selfishness of himself! + +Bannard had a work down among the foreigners of Frogtown. He had a plan +for a school for them that they might learn English and be fitted to +take out citizen’s papers. He wanted a class in cooking and sewing for +the mothers, and meetings where they might learn American ways, and how +to care for their children and make their homes sanitary and attractive. +He wanted a meeting place for them and some men and women with tact and +love of humanity to come down and help him. He had been waiting for +Professor Greeves to arrive feeling that he would be the very one to +help him get the educational department started. There was a small room +over a grocery they could have for the present. It was lighted with +lamps and heated by a small box stove, but warm weather was coming, they +could even meet out of doors somewhere down by the river. + +“Why not build a hall, a gymnasium or something of the sort, with +accommodation for all the different classes? It oughtn’t to cost much. +It wouldn’t have to be elaborate. I’ll look after the financial part. +I’d be glad to give something to a work like that.” + +“Oh, father! Can you do that?” Silver’s eyes were large with wonder and +joy. Money had not been in over-abundance in the little parsonage where +the Jarvises lived. Greeves looked sharply, keenly at his daughter. Was +it possible that there had been any lack in her life that money might +have supplied? He had sent presents now and then, a hundred dollars or +so. Why had it never occurred to him to send more? His own child never +having a real part in his abundant worldly possessions. He began to see +more and more how wrong he had been to separate himself from her. And +yet, how sweet and unspoiled she was! That other one, Athalie, had had +an abundant income stipulated by the court, and see what she had become! +Perhaps it had been better for Silver to have been brought up without +riches. That was the way her dear mother had been reared. Ah! but it all +shut him out of her life, and he had had the right to be in it and had +thrown it away! Well! he would make up for it now all he could, but he +could not go back and gather from the years the precious experiences +that were gone forever. + +They talked until the silver-tongued gong sounded through the house for +dinner, and then, still quite absorbed in their theme they went out to +the dining room, forgetting that there was aught in the world save +beautiful plans for the uplifting of others. And there, like an arrogant +young goddess stood Athalie, still in her silver and coral undress as +she had been in the garden, with only the addition of a wide coral +colored ribbon, the kind her girl friends called a “headache band” drawn +firmly over her forehead from the little sketchy uplifted eyebrows, to +the crown of her head, the ends concealed in some mysterious way under +the shock of outlandish hair somewhere in the neighborhood of where her +ears ought to be. She had arrived unbidden on the scene the moment the +dinner gong sounded and stood like an apparition, belligerent and sullen +behind a chair at the foot of the table, eyeing her father defiantly. + +There had been a pleased smile on his face as he entered, his hand just +touching Silver’s arm caressingly, but when he saw her he stopped short +and a stern angry look came into his eyes. It was not a baffled look as +Athalie had counted upon. She felt that he had weakened during that +scene on the terrace, and she could dare anything, but she saw a light +in his eyes that boded no good for the one who disobeyed his orders. His +eyes gave one full glance at the bare arms and neck, the low tight +silver bodice with its straps of tiny coral roses, the flimsy draperies, +and his lips set sternly, then he looked away and ignored her presence. +This was not the time for further demonstration. He was a gentleman. He +would deal with her later. Yet all through the meal as he spoke to the +others his voice was harsh, restrained. They could see that he was very +angry. His attitude perhaps awed the girl, or else she was very hungry, +for she said not a word except to demand second helpings of everything +from the servants. For the rest she maintained a sullen silence, her +eyes on her plate, only now and then raising them in a blank stare of +amazement at Bannard when he spoke of his church and his work with +earnest enthusiasm. She had never met any one like him before. Also, she +was angry that he ignored her so utterly, giving his entire attention to +Silver and her father. + +Everyone was glad when the meal was concluded. It had been a +particularly trying time to Silver. And as they rose from the table the +master of the house said almost sternly: + +“Now we will go into the drawing room and have some music.” His eyes +dwelt on Silver lovingly, but something in the tone told Athalie that +she was excluded from the company. As he stepped back to let the ladies +pass through the door Bannard caught a look of hate on the face of +Athalie that almost startled him in one so young. Yet she did not slip +away as he had supposed she would after the snub she had received at the +table. She followed, slowly, almost stealthily toward the heavy crimson +curtains of the wide doorway, as if she had some evil intent in her +going. + +Old Joe had built a fire in the fireplace and the flames flickered and +leaped rosily on the white marble mantel, making shadows and fitful +lights on the high ceiling as they entered, and giving a look to the +lifelike paintings on the wall as if the owners were there awaiting +them. They stepped within and Greeves touched the switch and flooded the +room with electric light. Old Standish Silver had been a progressive man +and the house had been wired as soon as electricity for lighting had +come to Silver Sands. It flared up garishly now and brought the sleeping +portraits to life, and instinctively all eyes were raised to the +painting over the mantel, where special lights had been placed to show +it to advantage. + +Joe Quinn had been mending the fire and was just backing away, Anne +Truesdale was hovering uneasily beside the curtain, wondering how she +could extract the fly from the ointment. The minister and Silver stood +within the doorway at one side, with Athalie still defiant just behind +them, when Patterson Greeves stepped within and looked up. They all +looked up, and breath was suspended. For there rose the lovely face of +Alice Jarvis within her gilded frame, smeared and disfigured with +chocolate, covering the sweet lips, dripping down the curve of cheek and +chin grotesquely! And there below with bold sensuous challenge, exulted +the pictured eyes of Lilla! + + + + + XII + + +There was a tense moment during which all eyes were fastened with a +horrible fascination on the desecrated picture. Then Patterson Greeves’ +army-officer voice rang out like cut steel. + +“Who perpetrated that?” + +His face had grown so white that it frightened Silver to look at him. +Athalie instinctively withdrew to the shelter of the portière. He stood +looking around on the group, slowly from one face to another, beginning +with old Joe, who had halted midway to the door and was ashy under his +weather tanned skin, answering back his master’s severe gaze with brave +frightened eyes. + +“I dunno, sir. I ain’t seen it, sir, before, sir! It was that dark when +I come in to light the fire I didn’t look up, sir!” + +The look passed on, steadily, unflinchingly, recognizing the sympathy in +the eyes of Bannard and Silver only by a quiver of the set upper lip. He +read the face of Anne Truesdale like a book. It said in every quiver of +indignant lip and fiery eye that she was not to blame, though she could +tell him where to search for the culprit, and only awaited a word from +him to turn the tide of retribution as it certainly ought to be turned. +So his eyes came to rest upon the daring, unsorry face of his younger +daughter, peering out eerily as if relishing the dènouement of her +escapade. + +No one dared turn and look at her. It would seem that look of her +father’s must have scorched her soul, so full it was of outraged pride +and love and sanctity. She must have learned from it at once how deep +her arrow had gone in his soul, how much he had cared for that woman in +the golden frame. How impossible it had been for him ever to care for +her own mother like that. How really futile in the light of that look +her mission in the house had become. Yet part spirit of his spirit, she +dared him back with a glance as steady, as haughty, even while she +trembled visibly at what she had invoked. It was as though she had been +the embodiment of all his mistakes and sins come to mock him. So their +eyes clashed, and the man with one final thrust of judgment and +condemnation in the flash of his eye, turned back once more to the +profaned picture. + +It was then for the first time that he saw the portrait beneath it, set +out in the clear detail of perfect photography, as beautiful yet +sensuous, as dauntless, as abandoned in every line of supple body and +smiling face as the daughter whose hand had placed her there. + +A low exclamation of horror burst from his lips and he strode forward, +white with anger and struck it full in the faithless smiling face till +the glass shivered in fine fragments on the white of the marble below +and the blood ran down in drops from his hand. + +He was beside himself with fury now, and snatching the picture, frame +and all, he dashed it to the hearth and ground it beneath his heel. + +Then out from behind the heavy curtain, with a wild cry like a young +tigress, darted Athalie and flung herself upon him, beating him back +with her hands and screaming out: + +“Stop! Stop! You shall not! That is Lilla! That is my mother! Ohhh!” and +her cries were like the rending heart of an infuriated creature who had +never been controlled. + +She pushed him off by main force and crouching low with raining tears +gathered up the fragments of the picture and clasped them to her breast. +Standing thus she faced her father, a glare of hate in her black +glittering eyes and looked him down even as he had looked at her and all +who witnessed could not but see a resemblance to him in her eyes and +attitude. + +“You murderer!” she hissed between her painted lips. She ground her +teeth audibly, and repeated, “you murderer!” and then she suddenly +reached out with one hand and seized a large triangle of glass that +still remained on the edge of the marble shelf, and hurled it with all +her force straight into the face of the wonderful painting above her, +where it cut a deep jagged gash between the lovely eyes, and fell in a +thousand pieces below. + +As the glass slithered through the canvas Athalie gave a scream like a +lost soul and darted from the room, almost knocking over the white and +frightened Truesdale in her flight, and tore up the stairway to her +room, slamming the door with a thunderous sound behind her and flinging +herself with wild weeping upon her bed. + +Meantime Blink had arrived at the front door with his offering of worms, +and had rung several times before Molly, who thought Joe and Anne were +engaged in the drawing room about the fire and lights, had slipped to +the door and let him in, bidding him wait in the front hall until the +housekeeper came to show him where to go. Blink had stood by the door, +his cap in his hand, and been a most unwilling witness to the whole +awful scene, with its climax of flying coral gauzes, pink flesh and +silver slippers hurled up the distant staircase. He stood for an instant +uncertain what to do, and then with innate courtesy stepped to the door +of the darkened library where only a dying fire flickered on the hearth, +and slipped within. At least in here, they would think he had not heard. +He dropped silently into one of the great leather chairs at the farther +end of the room, and tried to think what it all might mean and what +connection it had with the girl who had climbed out the second story +window and telephoned to a man in the city. + +It was most silent in the big drawing room after Athalie left. No one +dared hardly to breathe. Patterson Greeves stood white and dazed, gazing +up at the injured picture, with a stricken look upon his face, as if he +had suddenly seen a loved one put to death. For an instant he looked in +silence, then uncertainly he put up his hands and rubbed them across his +eyes as if he were not seeing aright. It was as if the mutilated eyes of +the picture were accusing him. He turned a pleading pitiful look on the +group standing about him, and with a moan he suddenly dropped into a +chair, burying his face in his hands and relapsing into an awful +silence. + +“Dontee, dontee, master Pat, dearie!” crooned Anne Truesdale, in her +sorrow forgetting the presence of the others and relapsing into his +childhood’s vernacular, “she’s only a naughty child! She didn’t +mean—she doesn’t know—!” + +A great shudder passed over the man’s body, and the woman gave a +frightened look toward the other two and retreated. + +Bannard stepped forward. + +“Get that washed off the picture, can’t you?” he whispered, “and sweep +up the glass?” Anne Truesdale vanished, glad to have something tangible +to do. + +Bannard stepped to his host’s side and put a firm hand on his shoulder. + +“Come, Greeves, don’t lose your nerve. This isn’t nearly as bad as it +seems—!” + +The man groaned and shuddered again. + +“It really isn’t you know. The woman was right. She’s only a naughty +ungoverned child. And besides, you’ve another little girl to think +about—” Greeves raised his eyes to the sorrowful girl in the doorway +and Silver crept to her father’s side and knelt, slipping her arm within +his and putting her face close to his. + +“I’m afraid this is all my fault, father,” she said with a catch in her +voice, “I ought not to have come. I knew as soon as I saw her. It hurt +her you know to have me here. She wanted your love for herself—” + +The man stirred uneasily and lifted his head drawing his arm around her. + +“Don’t say that again!” he commanded sternly, “she is worse than nothing +to me! Never can be or could be!—” + +Anne had come in with soft cloths and a basin of warm water followed by +Joe with a step ladder, brush, and dust pan. They tiptoed in silently, +awesomely, as if to a place where a murder had been committed. They did +their work swiftly and well and withdrew. The master of the house +remained with his head down resting on one hand, the other arm still +encircling his daughter. Bannard stood a little to one side thoughtfully +until the servants were gone. Then he raised his eyes to the picture. + +“Come, Greeves,” he said with relief in his voice, “it’s not so bad at +all. I’m sure it can be fixed. They mend those things so you’d never +know. And it isn’t as if the artist were dead. You can have him touch it +up himself—” + +Patterson Greeves arose shakingly, his arm still about his daughter, who +slipped up from his knees and stood beside him. The father gazed +agonizedly up at the picture, tears blurring into his eyes. + +“The little devil!” he murmured, “that’s what she is! A little hell +cat!” + +“Oh, I wouldn’t talk that way, friend!” Bannard’s hearty voice was like +a breeze from a wind-swept meadow driving the sick miasms away from the +room. “Nothing gained by that. Try to go back of her and see what has +made her like this.” + +“Do you mean to say I’m to blame for her devilishness?” Greeves demanded +excitedly. + +“I wasn’t saying who was to blame, my friend, I was merely suggesting +that you might look farther into the matter before you feel in utter +despair. The mother is responsible for a lot, I should say, but your +problem is not who is to blame, but what can you do about it.” + +“I shall send her away at once, either to some school where she will be +made to behave, or else back, back to the mother who made her what she +is.” The man’s tone was hard, unforgiving, uncompromising. “I shall +_make_ her take her back. Money will do it!” + +“Then you _would_ be to blame!” flashed Bannard. “What! would you give +her no opportunity _ever_? Would you force her to remain what she is?” + +“I would get her out of my sight forever.” + +“Isn’t that just where you made your mistake before? Pardon me. I +realize that I know nothing about the matter. It is only a suggestion.” + +“You do think I’m responsible for having a child like that!” + +“Well, isn’t a father responsible? Isn’t that what God meant he should +be?” + +Silver had moved away from her father and was standing by the mantel +looking up at the pictured eyes of her mother, her eyes full of +wistfulness. Her father began a restless striding up and down the room, +answering nothing, now and then tossing back his head in an impatient +way he had. At last he wheeled and faced Bannard. + +“I cannot think there is any fairness in that,” he said harshly and took +another turn across the room. Then coming back with more of a grip upon +himself he said: + +“But I have made scene enough of this day. I had hoped you were to be my +friend. If you stand this test you will indeed be a friend. I must +thrash this thing out by myself. Let us forget it if you can and +endeavor to wrest a little friendship at least from the evening. We came +in here to have some music and I have exhibited a family skeleton +instead. Let us close the door on it for the night and do something +else. My daughter, after all this are you equal to giving us a little +music?” + +The girl forced a smile and came quickly toward the piano. “Anything +that will please you father,” she said with an attempt at brightness. + +Bannard opened the old grand piano and drew out the creaking stool with +the hair-cloth cushion, and as Silver seated herself it suddenly came +over her that here she was in the old ancestral home, sitting at the +piano where others who were gone had often sat bringing sweet strains +from the old instrument. It thrilled her to realize that she was really +here at last in the home she had so long dreamed about. She touched the +keys tenderly, and there came forth a sound as if she had caressed them. +Her father settled down in the old tapestry chair and shaded his eyes +with his hand, watching her graceful outline of head and neck and +shoulders, and the sweeping curve of the young body as it swayed gently +to the music. + +Over in the library Barry Lincoln nestled back in the big chair and +closed his eyes to let the music sweep over his soul, while the fire +burned low and fell in bright sparkles among the ashes, and a long young +angle worm from the can in Barry’s lap struggled up and out and over +draping itself in an arabesque, perhaps in some modern attempt to +interpret the music. + +Upstairs in the bed in a tumbled heap of coral and silver Athalie +clasped the bits of her mother’s broken picture to what heart she had +and wept and wailed, “Oh, Lilla! Lilla! Lilla! Why did you send me +here?” + +But not even Anne Truesdale, white and anxious down in the back hall +listening for developments, and trembling with weariness, heard. + + + + + XIII + + +Diagonally across the street, about a furlong from the Silver place, +next to the meadow, whose white picket fence bordered, and whose old +brindle cow thrived on, the meadow, stood a small brick cottage, +somewhat Anne-Hathaway style in architecture, low and thatchy, with moss +on the roof and sunk deep in the thick green turf. It had a swing gate +with an iron weight on a chain to make it latch, and a lilac bush +leaning so low that the visitor had to duck his head to enter. + +The household was entirely feminine, and they looked on the cow and the +old yellow cats as their protectors. They were called the “Vandemeeter +girls” though the mother and the ancient grandmother were still of the +company. There were three elderly spinsters, Maria, Cordelia, and +Henrietta. There was also a niece, daughter of a fourth sister long +since dead, who rejoiced in the name of Pristina Appleby. Pristina was +“thirty-five if she was a day” according to Ellen Follinsbee the Silver +Sands dressmaker who always wore pins in her mouth and kept the other +corner open to pass on pleasant conversation. + +Pristina was tall and thin and spent much time studying the fashion +magazines and sending for all the articles in the advertising pages. She +sang in the choir and her voice was still good though a trifle shrill on +the high notes. She held her book with elbows stiffened and always +opened her mouth round and wide, and she took care to have plenty of +fresh changes of garments, and always got a new hat four times a year. +She felt it was due to her position as first soprano, although it was +not a paying proposition, and frequently required much sacrifice of +necessities to compass it. They were a progressive family and took +several family magazines besides a church paper and the Silver Sands +_Bulletin_. Pristina belonged to a literary club entitled “The Honey +Gatherers” and sipped knowledge early and late. She had recently been +appointed to write a paper on some modern author and had chosen +Patterson Greeves, “Our noted townsman” as the first sentence stated, +and waded through quartos of technical works, and thoroughly mastered +the terms of bacteriologists in order to do her subject justice. Maria +and Henrietta had not approved. They thought the choice of a divorced +man, especially as he was reported to be returning to his native town to +live, not a delicate thing for a young girl to do. Cordelia maintained +that it was a part of the strange times they were living in, and added: +“Look at the flappers!” + +“Well, I never supposed we’d have a flapper in our family,” said grandma +sadly. “The Vandemeeters were always respectable. Poor, but always +respectable.” + +“Now, ma, who says Pristina ain’t respectable?” bristled mother +appearing in the kitchen door with a bread pan in one hand and a lump of +lard in the other. “Pristina has her life to live, ain’t she? I guess +she’s got to think of that.” + +They all looked at Pristina standing tall and straight, her abundant +brown locks piled high in a coil on the crown of her head, a little too +much of her slim white ears showing, a faint natural flush in the +hollows under her high cheek bones, the neck of her brown voile guarding +well the hollow of her throat, and her bony arms encased in full length +bell sleeves. She wore sensible high buttoned shoes (with the addition +of tan spats in winter) and her dresses were never higher than eight +inches from the ground, even at the highest water mark of short dresses. +Yet she seemed to them most modern. They could not have been more +worried if she had taken to chewing gum. She was the kind of woman you +would pick out for a good stepmother of eight. Conscientious and willing +to take what was left. + +“That’s all right, Pristina. Write your paper the way you want. You have +to follow your own bent,” said mother. + +And Pristina wrote her paper. + +Grandma and the three girls talked it over once when mother was setting +cakes for breakfast. + +“You don’t suppose Pristina is getting notions about Pat Greeves, do +you?” suggested Cordelia. + +“Gracious!” said grandma dropping her knitting, “what put that into your +head?” + +“Oh, nothing—only, she’s so anxious to write that paper and all. And it +wouldn’t be strange. She’s young you know.” + +“Well, I should hope she’d have sense enough not to think of marrying a +divorced man. That wouldn’t be respectable! And she a church singer!” +This from Maria. + +“Patterson Greeves isn’t so young any more you’ll kindly remember!” said +Henrietta pursing her lips. Patterson Greeves had been a senior in high +school with Henrietta. They might all remember that he gave her a +bouquet of jacqueminot roses when she graduated. + +“That’s nothing!” said Cordelia, “old men always pick out young girls.” + +“He’s not _old_!” said Henrietta. + +“You just said he wasn’t _young_. Oh, well! I only suggested it. I +shouldn’t like to see Pristina get notions. That man has lived _abroad_. +And he’s lived in _New York_. He’s no fit mate for a girl like Pristina. +But then, I don’t suppose he’d look at her. Only as I say, I hope she +doesn’t get notions.” + +“We’ve always been respectable,” said grandma. “It’s likely Pristina +knows that. She’s rather respectable herself. You remember how she +wouldn’t let that young drug clerk hold her hand. Blood will tell +generally. I wouldn’t worry.” + +But after the paper had been read before “The Honey Gatherers,” Mrs. +Arden Philips, the wife of the postmaster, dropped in with some cross +stitch embroidery doilies for her new hardwood table and casually asked: + +“Henrietta never kept up her acquaintance with Pat Greeves did she?” + +Mrs. Arden Philips used to be Ruby Hathaway of the same class in high +school. + +“Henrietta?” said Cordelia looking sharply at that sister. + +“Henrietta!” exclaimed Maria contemptuously as if Henrietta had somehow +endeavored to outclass her sisters. + +“Mercy, no!” said Henrietta. “Why Ruby he’s a married man, very much +married. What makes you ask that? It’s years since I’ve heard a word of +him.” + +“Well, I told Julia Ellen so. After Pristina read that paper there was a +great to do about it, how she got to know so much about him, and then +Julia Ellen and Jane Harris both remembered that he was sweet on +Henrietta once, and we thought maybe—although Arden said he never +noticed any foreign letters coming. Well, Henrietta, how did Pristina +come to find out so much about Pat Greeves anyhow? All that about his +books on bugs, and how he came to be called to those colleges and +everything. I’m sure Miss Lavinia Silver never told anything. She was so +close mouthed. She always just smiled and said something pleasant and +you came away knowing no more than when you went.” + +“She got it out of some sort of an encyclopedia,” said grandma +indignantly, “it began with Bi, I forget the name of it. She took it out +of the library. It had a lot of other great men in it. She read it all +aloud to us. And then she sent for his book to the city and studied that +a lot. It wasn’t very interesting. I tried to read it one day but it had +a lot of words I never saw before. Pristina said they were names of +animals and bugs that lived before the foundation of the world or long +about. I’m sure I don’t know. But Pristina is real smart. She believes +in patronizing home talent. I thought it was a bright idea myself, +telling people about him before he came back to live here.” + +“Why yes, of course!” said Mrs. Arden Philips, looking sharply at +grandma, “that’s what _I_ said; but then people will talk you know. But +if I was Pristina I wouldn’t mind in the least. It’ll all blow over, and +Pristina’s reputation can stand a little whisper now and then I guess. +But say, wouldn’t it be interesting, thinking back to how he used to +like Henrietta, if he should make up to Pristina sometime? Quite +romantic, I say. Aunt and niece, you know. It might be.” + +“Nonsense! He’s too old!” said Henrietta sharply. + +“Besides he’s divorced!” said Maria with pursed lips. + +“Yes, of course,” said the visitor, “but they do say in the city, that +doesn’t count so much, and besides, he’s lived in the city so long he +probably doesn’t know the difference. It isn’t as if he’d lived here +always and kept Silver Sand’s standards. I heard the new school +superintendent say in the Home and School the other day it was standards +counted. And he can’t help his standards can he?” + +“We’ve always been respectable!” said grandma sharply, “and I hope we’ll +always stay so. Pristina has standards if Standish Silver’s nephew _has_ +lost his! Ruby did your grandmother send you that recipe for strawberry +preserve? My daughter was wishing she could get it.” + +“Yes, I have it. I’ll copy it off for you. Well, I must be going. We’re +having the minister to supper tonight. I only just dropped in to satisfy +myself that I had told the truth to Julia Ellen. I never like to sleep +on a lie. I was real sure Pristina hadn’t been corresponding with him.” + +There was silence in the room while Maria went to the door with the +visitor, and until she had reached the picket gate and the iron weight +had swung back and clicked against the chain as it always did when the +gate shut after any one. Then grandma’s pursed lips relaxed and her +needles began to click. + +“Cat!” said Henrietta, “she always was jealous about those roses!” + +That happened three months before Patterson Greeves came home. Nothing +more was said in the Vandemeeter home about the matter, but whenever +Anne Truesdale opened and aired the front rooms, or stuck pillows out of +the windows in the sunshine for a few minutes, “the girls” took occasion +to glance over and wonder. And when at last the signs of a more thorough +housecleaning than had gone on in years became unmistakable, grandma had +her padded rocking chair moved to the side window where she could watch +the house all day long. She declared the light was poor at the front +window where she had been accustomed to sit. When the news of the +imminent arrival went forth officially, Pristina went up to town and +bought her new spring hat. It would not do to look shabby on the first +Sunday of the noted man’s arrival. After that the Vandemeeters were in a +state of continual twitter, making errands to the front window on the +slightest possible excuse, and always glancing out across. + +“I declare it looks good to see the house alive again,” said mother. “I +can almost think I see Miss Lavinia’s white hair at the window over +there. My! If she were only back!” + +“It’s a good thing she’s not!” said grandma sepulchrally, “it couldn’t +mean anything else but suffering to have her nephew come home divorced!” + +“Well, I don’t know about that, mother,” said her white haired daughter, +“there’s some women you’re better divorced from. You know even the Bible +says that!” + +“Well, why did he _marry_ her then? That’s what I’d like to know. A boy +brought up the way he was, _why did he marry her_? Oh, you can’t tell +me. He just went and got into the nasty ways of the world, the flesh and +devil! That’s what’s the matter. If he’d just come to his home town and +taken a good sweet girl he’d known all his life—” + +“There now, mother, for mercy’s sake don’t say that. Somebody might +think you meant one of ours!” + +The curtains were in requisition at every side window of the Vandemeeter +house the night that Patterson Greeves came home. Henrietta at her +chamber window high in the peak of the roof noted the gray hair crisply +short beneath his soft hat, and the slight stoop in his shoulders, and +said to herself quite softly: + +“Goodness! do I look as old as that?” + +They watched the house quite carefully until the lights from the side +windows announced the dinner hour in the house across the way and then +they retired to their own belated meal. While they were eating it +Henrietta on a visit to the kitchen for hot water for grandma’s tea +spied the red glow in the sky and called them all to the back kitchen +window, else they would have seen their neighbor vault the fence and +sprint down the meadow to the fire. + +But the next morning they were up betimes and keeping tab from every +window spryly. + +When the big racing car drew up in front of the house and Athalie got +out they were fairly paralyzed with astonishment. + +“Perhaps he isn’t divorced after all,” said mother in a mollified voice. + +“Yes, he is,” insisted Pristina, “I read it to you from the Biographical +Encyclopedia. A book like that, that’s in all libraries, wouldn’t make a +mistake.” + +“Well, maybe he’s married again,” said Cordelia. “That’s what they do +nowadays!” + +“I don’t believe he _would_! Not with his bringing up!” said mother. “He +_couldn’t_!” + +“Well, the law allows it!” snapped Maria. “That’s why I’m glad I can +vote. There ought to be laws!” + +“Well, who is she then?” asked grandma petulantly. + +“She’s young,” announced Pristina who had the best eyes for far seeing, +“and her cheeks are awfully red.” + +“She’s _painted_!” said Maria, “that’s the kind! Maybe she’s—!” + +“Maria!” said her mother, and made eyes toward Pristina, “you shouldn’t +say such things.” + +“I didn’t say anything, mother, I was going to say maybe she is just +some friend of his wife’s. Or maybe she is a secretary. Writers have +secretaries. I’ve read about them.” + +“I should think it would be more proper to have a man!” said grandma. +“There’s no excuse for a man having a girl always around him. If he does +a thing like that I should think it was plain nobody ought to recognize +him.” + +“Well, she’s taking an awful while saying good-bye to the man, that +brought her!” declared Cordelia. “Perhaps he’s her father. He looks old +enough to be. He’s held her hand all this time. Why, she’s only a child. +Look, she’s got short hair!” + +“That’s bobbed!” said Pristina in disdain, “I should think you’d know +that Aunt Cordelia. Plenty of the young girls in Silver Sands have had +their hair bobbed.” + +“Oh, yes, bobbed. Oh, yes, young girls! But not like that!” + +“There goes the minister in!” announced Henrietta a little later. “I +wonder why? He’s not the kind that toadies to rich people.” + +“He would think he owed respect to the relative of so prominent a former +member of his church,” suggested mother. “The Silver family really gave +the money to build that church you know. Gave the lot anyway.” + +“I hope the minister is not going to countenance divorce,” said grandma +with a troubled look out the window over her spectacles. + +“He preached against it two weeks ago,” contributed Pristina, her hands +clasped on the window fastening, her chin on her hands. + +“Perhaps he doesn’t know about Patterson Greeves,” said Maria. “Somebody +ought to have told him.” + +“He’s coming out again. Perhaps Mr. Greeves wouldn’t see him. There’s +his car. That rowdy Lincoln boy driving it again. What the minister sees +in him!” announced Cordelia. “See, he’s hurrying. I wonder what’s the +matter.” + +“Perhaps he’s just found out,” suggested grandma. + +Speculation ran rife, and the watchers hovered not far from the windows, +doing extra dusting in the front sitting room to keep near. It was +almost like the time when the circus rented the meadow for a week and +they could watch the rhinoceros and giraffe go to bed at night. None of +them really admitted they were watching until suddenly the minister’s +car drew up in front of the Silver house. + +“He’s back!” said Pristina glued to the window, “and there’s another +woman—no, girl with him!” + +“It looks as if there might be going to be a wedding!” declared Maria +primly, “I declare some men are the biggest fools! You’d think after two +experiences he’d be satisfied. Oh, Men! Men! Men! I’ve no patience with +them.” + +“Well, I certainly don’t think much of a woman that comes to his house +to get married!” said Pristina. “I wonder our minister has anything to +do with it.” + +“A woman that will marry a divorced man, too,” sighed grandma. + +“Well, I wonder which one it is, the first one or this one?” questioned +Pristina. “They both look awfully young. Perhaps they don’t know a thing +about him.” + +“And neither do you,” said mother, “Pristina why don’t you take that +cake over that you baked for the sewing circle tomorrow? You’ve plenty +of time to make another before the circle, and anyhow now you’ve found +out Stella Squires has made a chocolate cake it would be better for you +to make some other kind, say marble cake or a cocoanut. If they’re going +to have a wedding it would be nice in the neighbors to help out a +little.” + +“I think I’ll find out whether there is a wedding or not first,” said +Pristina with a toss of her head. “We’ll eat the chocolate cake +ourselves. I’m going to cut a big piece now.” + +Pristina was like that sometimes. And when she was the aunts looked at +her in a hopeless sort of way and kept still. They called it the +“Appleby” in her. + +All day long they kept their watch upon the house. When Silver and her +father came out to walk after lunch, they huddled anxiously at the +window, and commented. This was the bride probably, and the other +one—who was the other one? Bridesmaid or secretary? It was hard to +decide. + +While they were still discussing it Athalie’s trunks arrived, and +brought them all to the window again. + +“Upon my word, there must be more coming!” said Pristina from her +window. “Look at the trunks. They surely wouldn’t have more than one +apiece.” + +“A bride might have two,” suggested mother. + +“Yes. You know New York! They’re very extravagant livers!” declared +Maria who had had the advantage of a week in New York when she was +sixteen and had been going on the strength of it ever since and claiming +obeisance from her family therefrom. + +“Well, even so. Count them. One, two, three, four! Are those others +boxes? They must have books in them. They probably belong to Mr. +Greeves. But the girl that came first had her baggage with her. She +wouldn’t be wanting a trunk.” + +“Well, there’s one apiece and one over besides the boxes,” said +Henrietta. “A man wouldn’t want a trunk would he? Not if he carried his +books in boxes. What would a man find to put in a trunk?” + +“His clothes, of course,” said Cordelia sharply. + +“But a man has so few clothes. Just a suit or two. It seems as if he +could hardly fill a trunk with those. Perhaps he brought home relics +from the war. If he did I certainly do hope we get a chance to see +them.” + +“Perhaps, sometime, if they’re away Mrs. Truesdale will ask you in +quietly to see them,” suggested mother. + +“Those trunks are enormous! See, grandma, they had to get Hank Lawson to +help carry that one in. I think that’s scandalous!” This from Maria. + +The shades of night settled down and left them still wondering. + +“There’s a light in Miss Lavinia’s room. It’s strange they’d let anybody +be put in there!” + +“Maybe he took that room himself!” suggested grandma. + +Arden Philips and his wife ran in on their way to a committee meeting at +the town hall, something about a supper to be given in the fire house as +soon as the first strawberries were ripe. They settled into the window +seats and asked everything that had happened all day. Arden contributed +the fact that a great pile of mail had come for Mr. Greeves and among +them three from New York City. + +“Whatever became of that child of Pat Greeves?” asked Mrs. Philips +loosening her silk wrap and throwing it back to adjust a long string of +green beads slung around her scrawny neck and looping down below her +waist! “Did it live? Boy, wasn’t it?” + +She was a tiny wiry little woman with bright beads of eyes and the quick +restless motions of a bird. She perched on the edge of her chair and +looked quickly from one to another as she talked. + +“Girl,” said grandma pursing her lips and looking over her spectacles. +“It was a girl. He gave it to its mother’s parents. I heard they didn’t +have much to do with one another.” + +“Well, I should think not!” said Ruby Philips. “A man that would marry +again!” Mrs. Philips didn’t believe in second marriages. + +“And then get divorced!” reminded grandma. + +“Well poor thing. I hope she hasn’t suffered from her father’s sins,” +said Maria righteously. + +“Now Maria,” reproved mother, “you’re going a little fur. You don’t +really _know_ that her father sinned.” + +“Well, he got divorced, didn’t he?” + +“Yes, but Maria, he might uv _had_ to—you know it isn’t _always_ the +_men’s_ fault.” + +“It’s pretty generally the men’s fault, I guess,” declared Maria, +tossing her chin. “I thank goodness I never got tied up to one.” + +“Well, Maria, I don’t think you’re very polite to Arden,” said Mrs. +Arden, rising with a flame in each cheek. + +“Oh, Arden’s Arden, of course. Besides he’s my third cousin. And present +company is always excepted you know,” laughed Maria sharply. + +Mrs. Arden drew her cape around her briskly and stepped toward the door. +There was still a stiffness in her voice. She pursed her thin lips as if +her mouth shut with a drawstring like a bag of marbles. + +“Well, I must say I don’t like insinuations, even when it’s a joke,” she +said coldly, “come Arden, we’ll be late to that meeting. You’d think if +there _was_ a wedding he’d invite someone from the town, just for old +time’s sake, wouldn’t you? Of course the minister; but he’s a +comparative stranger, and he _has_ to have him. Well, I suppose we’ll +know sometime. Good night.” + +Arden, drab and homely, with blue eyes and light eyelashes followed her +obediently out with an air of getting in the way of his own feet. She +tripped along down the walk like a sparrow and Arden loped behind, a +long limbed, disproportionate man who never seemed to be quite +inhabiting all the room in his garments. They crossed the street and +passed the Silver house, looking closely and walking slowly. The street +lights twinkled over their heads as they passed. + +By and by a shadow passed along the street, with something low trailing +after, but there was no sound of footsteps though grandma had her window +open a trifle. A moment later the front door of the Silver house opened +letting out a stream of light and shut again before they could see who +had gone in. There seemed to be a dog about. He howled once from the +neighborhood of the Silver gate. + +At ten o’clock some one came out, perhaps two. It almost seemed like a +group. Was one the minister? Was that a dog or only a mote in the eyes +that had strained so long through the darkness? + +Lights appeared upstairs over the way, went out, and the Silver house +remained a white shape against the velvet blue of the night sky. Little +stars blinked distantly and the tree-toads sang uninterruptedly in the +meadow and down by the brook. Grandma was snoring gently in her +downstairs bedroom, and Pristina lay in her narrow bed up in the roof +bedroom and wondered why life had seemed to pass her by. + + + + + XIV + + +To the right of the Silver house and almost directly across from +Vandemeeter’s stood a neat gray house with wide verandas and white +trimmings. There were tall trees of great age in front of the place that +gave it a retired look, and the fine lace curtains at the front windows +were always immaculate. The fence was gray with square fat gate posts, +and a row of blue and yellow and white crocuses were picketed on either +side of the gravel path. It was one of those places that you always feel +you can depend on, and the people who lived in it were like unto it. + +Joshua Truman was the Silver Sands banker, and the fact that the whole +neighborhood called him Josh and that he had a hearty handshake and a +smile for everybody in no wise detracted from his dignity. He seems to +have been an honest banker, and beloved by everybody. He had shaggy +overhanging gray eyebrows, but they hid a twinkle in the mild blue eyes. +Mrs. Truman was plain with sweet eyes, wore her hair in close satin +ripples above her ears as she had done ever since she was married, and +kept always a neat brown silk with touches of velvet trimmings for her +best dress. She was president of the missionary society in the +Presbyterian church. There were two children, David, a lump of activity +aged ten, and Mary, a tall lank girl of fifteen with a heavy braid of +yellow hair down her back and big, dreamy eyes. + +“I think Patterson Greeves has come back,” Mrs. Truman announced at the +breakfast table next morning. “I didn’t notice any one coming in, but +Hetty says she saw some trunks arrive. I thought perhaps you’d want to +run in and see if there is anything we can do—” + +“Oh, why, yes of course,” said the banker heartily. “I forgot to speak +about it, those men coming in and staying so long after supper last +night. He did come. I met the minister and he told me. It seems he has +brought his two daughters home. One is about Mary’s age. I think she had +better arrange to run in today sometime, and show a little attention, +perhaps offer to take the girl to school or something just to make her +feel at home.” + +“Oh, mother!” said Mary in dismay, “I can’t call on a strange girl! +_You_ go.” + +“Is his—? Did he—? Well—what about his wife, Joshua, isn’t +he—_married_ now?” + +“Oh, well—no—I believe not. That is—” he glanced at the children, “I +should think that was all the more reason why we should show some +courtesy to those motherless girls.” + +“Yes, of course,” said his wife with a look of relief that the matter +was settled. “Certainly, Mary, you run in after school this afternoon +and call. You can take some of our strawberries and a bunch of daffodils +and just run in without any formality.” + +“Oh, mother!” said Mary aghast, “I promised Roberta I’d play duets with +her this afternoon.” + +“Well, take Roberta along,” said her mother crisply. “The Moffats were +always good friends of the Silvers.” + +“Yes, certainly,” spoke up the father. “Get some of the other girls to +go too. It will be a pleasant thing for a stranger to feel that she is +welcomed into a community the first day. Talk to some of the girls and +make it _go_, Mary.” + +“All right,” said Mary reluctantly, with a speculative glance over at +the Silver house which she could see from her place at the table. “I +might ask her to go to Christian Endeavor,” she suggested, “we girls are +on the Lookout committee. We all promised to try and get some new +members. What’s her name?” + +“Well, that I didn’t discover. I guess it’s up to you to find out, +daughter,” said her father with a pat on her shoulder as he got up and +went to kiss his wife good-bye for the morning. + +“Do I have to dress up mother?” asked Mary, still thinking of her +prospective call, “I don’t mind going if I can wear my school dress but +I hate to waste the time dolling up. Besides, I always feel so +embarrassed in my best clothes.” + +“I don’t think it will be necessary to dress up,” said her mother with a +quick inspection of the neat blue gingham with its sheer white ruffles +and the crisp dark blue hair ribbon that tied the heavy braid of hair, +“little girls don’t have to bother about their clothes. She’ll probably +like you far better if you go just as you come from school. Be sure your +hands are clean of course.” + +Mary brightened and went off to school quite full of her plans for the +afternoon. Her grade was in the old brick schoolhouse up beyond the +Truman house. She did not pass the Silver place. She would have been +surprised to know that the girl she was proposing to call upon was still +in bed asleep. Mary had been up for two hours, had practised an hour and +a half, and helped her mother get the breakfast on the table because +Hetty, the maid of all work, had a lame foot and was being saved. Mary +glanced back at the Silver place and felt a warm spot around her heart. +It was going to be nice to have a girl friend living there. They could +go to school together. Living next door she naturally would be “best +friend.” The Silver place would be an awfully nice house to have a +Christian Endeavor social in sometime. Would Mr. Greeves be willing? She +would suggest this to the girls. This would make them eager to go and +see her. She could hear the first bell ringing as she hurried along. She +started to run to have more time to talk before school began. Her eyes +were bright with the new idea when she entered the schoolyard. She +decided that she would ask the new girl over to make fudge that evening +if all went well. + +On the other side of the Silver mansion, the side where Athalie’s room +faced, there was an old brown wooden house. It hadn’t been painted in +years and was not likely to be painted in years to come if it lasted so +long. It was built in the days of scroll work and rejoiced in a cupola, +lofty and square, with alternate lights of red and blue and yellow glass +bordering a large clear one, two on each side. The front gable was +ornamented with a fret work of ancient wood, faded brown like the rest, +which had somehow, either in a storm or in consequence of the mending of +the roof, become detached from the ridgepole on one side and fallen out +of plumb. The result was rakish, like a woman with her bonnet on +cock-eyed. The windows of the house were gothic and latticed, and the +doors all sagged. The Weldons lived there and they sagged too. Uri +Weldon usually did his sagging down in the lobby of the one hotel, sunk +deep in a worn-out leather chair with his heels above his head on +another, and a large sagging cigar in one corner of his mouth. He kept +up the hallucination that he was thus conducting business, which +consisted in trying to get someone to patent some of his inventions, but +his business sagged too and never came to anything. Lizette Weldon, his +wife, was spare and wore a false front over little black gimlet eyes. +When she walked she was the shape of rain in a driving storm but nothing +ever escaped her vision whichever way she was going. The property was +theirs for life, entailed so that they could not sell it, and would pass +to a nephew now residing in China when they no longer had need for it. +They had been there for years, however, and seemed likely to outlast the +nephew in China. Gentle Aunt Lavinia had had her trials with Lizette, +and young Patterson Greeves owed many a sound thrashing to her sharp +eyes and ready tongue. + +A long stretch of ill-kept wire grass constituted the lawn in front of +the Weldons, ending abruptly in a row of sombre pine trees behind which +the house retired as if aware of its hopeless shabbiness. Had it not +been for these pines the whole place would have been a sorry contrast to +the well-kept Silver estate. There was something shielding, almost +dignifying in the pines. + +But the side windows had no row of pines and looked across a clear space +straight to the side of the Silver house; and Athalie’s window presented +a liberal view for any interested eye. + +On the first afternoon of her arrival Lizette was mounting the stairs +for her daily nap when she happened to notice a curious figure climbing +from the window. Having been occupied in the kitchen during the morning +she was as yet unaware of the arrivals, although she had seen a light in +the front room the night before, but the shades were drawn almost +immediately and the light remained but about five minutes so she thought +nothing of it. But this was startling. + +Lizette hastened to get an old field glass which she kept handy and +wherewith she had often settled uncertainties in the neighborhood in +time past, and brought it to bear upon the object of her interest. She +applied the binoculars to her eyes and screwed them hastily into focus, +then withdrew them and stared with her naked eyes. + +“Oh, my!” she said aloud, “ain’t that awful!” She lifted the glass once +more and gazed. “Pants!” she ejaculated wildly, a kind of triumph in her +tone, “well, now I guess they’re coming down a peg! What would the old +Silvers say to that! A girl in pants! Of course the papers advertise +them but the Silvers never were that kind. And look at her hair! My +soul! How does she get it to stay out so. Ain’t it redickilus! Where’s +she going? My good fathers! if she isn’t going to climb down! Well, that +beats everything! Who is she?” + +Lizette hurried down the stairs and rushed to the front window to get a +closer view between the pines, then noting the stranger’s general +direction toward the stores she hastened to the telephone; calling up a +friend who lived farther down the street. + +“That you Miz Hoskins? Well go to your front window and see that girl in +pants coming down the street. She just climbed down off the old Silver +pergola out the side bedroom window. Hurry and I’ll hold the phone.” + +Mrs. Hoskins had a hot loaf of bread in a pan, holding it with a wet +towel in one hand when she took down the receiver, but she hurried to +the window, hot pan and all. There succeeded a pause during the passing +of Athalie, then steps and a voice. + +“My, ain’t that scandalous? And all those young boys down around town! +Not that I mind the pants so much if everybody wore ’em. It’s sensible +you know. But the way she walks and all. And her face. Did you see how +it was made up? Why those girls that sang at the minstrel show weren’t +half so coarse looking. And the air of her. You said she came from +Silvers? Well I guess there’s going to be some doings there from all I +hear. My husband took the express over with the trunks. Say, you oughta +have seen those trunks. Seven of ’em I think there was, and not one +could be lifted without four men. Just to think such goings on in this +respectable town!” + +“But who is she?” + +“Dear knows! John says she might be most anybody. You know Patterson +Greeves got a divorce! Maybe she’s his typewriter. That’s the way they +do things nowadays. Isn’t it the limit? Say, I smell my other loaf of +bread burning. Excuse me a minute please. You hold the wire. I want to +ask you about what happened at the sewing circle the other day. I’ll be +back in a minute.” + +Mrs. Weldon took no nap that afternoon. She was too excited. She felt it +her bounden duty to keep a watch and find out if there were “doings” +going on in the old house, and if she ought to do something about it. +What else should a good neighbor do when the respectable dwelling of an +old neighbor was threatened with modernism? + +The hedge was too high for her to see the terrace and the scene in the +garden, but later when Athalie, having cried out her brief wrath, +attired herself in a gay little suit of pajamas with lace ruffles around +the ankles, and having turned on all the lights proceeded to practise a +little æsthetic dancing in front of the window, Lizette was there, glass +and all, with her fat husband behind her staring over his spectacles and +laughing coarsely in her ear. This was a good joke, a good joke to tell +down at the hotel. Those religious Silvers come to this! + +The next morning when she slipped through the garden and under the back +fence across lots to the garden of Aunt Katie Barnes’s neat little place +on the side street where the minister boarded, to get a cup of sour +milk, she paused with her apron over her head and said: + +“Oh, have you heard what’s happened over at the Silver place? They do +say Pat Greeves has come back and brought a _woman_ along! I’ve been +told she was his secretary or typewriter or something. But she’s very +ordinary. I saw her go by myself and I was shocked! Painted and +powdered, her hair all kind of wild, the queerest hat, and _pants_, mind +you, in the middle of the afternoon! I feel so sorry for poor Miss +Lavinia. She set such store by that boy! But it never pays to bring up +other people’s children does it? I can mind how she used to sit out +there in the garden by the hour playing with him and reading to him. A +waste of time I say—but aren’t you surprised that he should do this? It +seems as if he might have managed to stay respectable even if he is +divorced.” + +Aunt Katie looked up from the potatoes she was frying for the minister’s +breakfast and smiled. + +“Oh, didn’t you know who that was? It’s one of his daughters. He has +two, but this must have been the younger one. She’s only a child, +fourteen I think Mr. Bannard said, and she’s been off at boarding +school—I suppose you must expect some craziness from little girls +nowadays, there is so much more freedom in the world, especially in New +York. But isn’t it nice Mr. Greeves has two daughters to keep him from +being lonely? The other one is a little older. Her name is Silver. Mr. +Bannard says she is the perfect picture of her mother’s portrait hanging +over the mantel in the drawing room. Do you remember it, that lovely +Sargent painting?” + +“No,” said Lizette coldly eyeing her adversary, “I don’t go over there. +That Mrs. Truesdale doesn’t show herself very friendly. I think she +takes on airs. _Daughters_, you think then? Are you _quite sure_? Well, +I suppose the minister ought to know.” She surrendered the bit of +scandal reluctantly, “it certainly is strange we never heard of them +before. Daughters! Well, he better keep a little control of them then. +One of ’em was having carryings on in her room last night, I’ll tell +you! Dancing, that’s what she was doing, in her underwear! A great big +girl like a full grown woman, and all her shades up! I never did approve +of those pajamas for men even. They don’t seem, well, Christian you +know. And when a woman takes up with such outlandish fashions it’s time +she was stopped by law, I say.” + +“Well,” said Aunt Katie soothingly, “we don’t all have the same taste in +dress you know—” + +“Dress!” sniffed Mrs. Weldon, “_un_dress I should say! However, as you +say, it takes all kinds to make a world. Well, I just ran over to see if +you could let me have a cup of sour milk. Mine got too sour and I had to +throw it out.” + +Aunt Katie always seemed to have whatever was needed by anyone and the +sour milk was immediately forthcoming. + +There being no further excuse for lingering, the neighbor lingered +anyway. + +“The minister told you! So he’s been over to the Silver place _already_! +He’s a good deal younger than Pat Greeves. He must be nearer the age of +one of the daughters. Curious he should run after a man like that right +off the first day! I thought he set up not to be a tody-er, but I +suppose they’re all alike. They know which side their bread is buttered +when a rich man comes along.” + +“Oh, they met at the fire down at Frogtown night before last. Mr. +Greeves ran across the meadow as soon as he heard the alarm and got into +the thick of it helping with the best of them. Then they came home +together and took to each other right away. It’s going to be grand +having the old Silver place open again, young people in it, and folks +going back and forth visiting.” Aunt Katie’s face was innocent as a +lamb. The guest eyed her keenly, but could detect no hidden sign that +Aunt Katie realized she had ignored the criticism. + +“Oh, well, if you take it that way of course. Some might feel they +wanted to wait and be sure all was as it should be. But time will tell. +Well, I must run home and stir up my batter cakes. Uri’ll be waiting.” + +Down at the fire house where Uri spent much of his time when he was not +sitting in the lobby of the hotel, it was discussed that morning. There +was always a knot of conversation around the fire house door even in +early morning. It was just across from the blacksmith’s shop, and the +hotel, and “handy-by” from the market and post office. When any +frequenters came down to the business portion of Silver Sands, morning, +noon or night, they always dropped around for a minute, or an hour, to +wait for whatever errand had brought them to mature, it might be the +mail to be distributed, the horseshoe to be set, or the drummer to +arrive at the hotel for their appointment with him, and there paused for +a bit of gossip. It was a kind of distributing agency for the private +affairs of the town and now and then the outlying districts. It was the +country club for the so-inclined of the town, and stood in place of golf +for the men who did not aspire to athletics. The good old fire engine +was athletic enough for them, and between fires they stood around and +polished it and worshipped it, and told tales of their own valor. + +Uri Weldon hastened early to the rendezvous that morning with an air of +mysterious importance, and felt gravely the responsibility of so choice +a bit of news as he carried. + +Back in the dim shadows of a windowless apartment under the stairs where +the oiling and polishing rags were kept, a tramp awoke at the first +scraping of the first armchair on the cement floor. Awoke to the dismal +necessity of another day, and the immediate problem of getting out of +his concealment before he was discovered. His hairy, dirty face appeared +weirdly in brief relief on the doorway, as Uri Weldon settled back with +his feet on an old soap box, and his pipe tilted at the right angle for +conversation. Ted Loundes and Flip Haines lounged up to the doorway, and +leaning up against the door frame, one either side of the door like a +couple of bronze figures personifying Ease and Relaxation. + +Uri Weldon started in on his tale with many an embellishment, +interrupted by loud haw haws on the part of the younger men. The tramp +frowned and ventured another look, scouting for a back exit and finding +none. The tale went on. The tramp was not interested. He could not help +hearing, but he took no heed till Ted, helping himself to a long sliver +from the batten door behind him and cautiously picking his teeth +therewith remarked: + +“I hear that guy Greeves has a pile of dough.” + +Uri Weldon nodded, importantly. + +“Well, yes, he’s got a pile. Them Silvers was always well off. Course +they owned the beach and the sand business, and all that ground the +fact’ries were built on, and then the right of way where the railroad +went, and stocks, and so on. But now you know a lot of land they had +somewhere out in Oklahoma has begun to produce oil. They say the money +is rolling in from that. And besides all that he writes books! Everybody +knows they charge a turrible price for books. It always beat me how they +got it. Just a little paper and ink, and words—just _words_! And +getting paid for it! They tell me he’s written a book about _bugs_ that +they charge three dollars and seventy-five cents for, and the people in +the colleges are buying ’em like hot cakes! It beats me how with all +that learning they can be so easily fooled! But so it is, and Pat +Greeves is profiting by it. Well, I suppose his pretty little brats of +daughters will inherit a coupla millions apiece or more when he kicks +off. Seems queer though. You boys don’t remember, but Pat Greeves and I +used to be in a fight in school pretty near every day when we was +kids—Hi, there boys! Look up the street there! I bet that’s her coming +down this way now!” + +Uri’s feet and the front legs of his chair came down to the cement +pavement with a crash simultaneously, and the two younger men came about +face with alertness and looked in the direction of Uri’s finger. + +“Gosh!” ejaculated Flip, “she’s some winner, isn’t she?” “Get onto that +epidermis, Ted? Some heft to her too.” + +All three men with casual manner sauntered eagerly nearer the street and +the tramp, peered earnestly out, stealing across the open space with +catlike celerity, then drifting hastily behind the offset at the side of +the fire house, paused to take his own observation. This then was the +daughter of the rich oil magnate who wrote books about bugs. + +He had once been a city tramp and he flattered himself he knew style +when he saw it. The cut of a garment, the hang of a fold that bespoke +quality, the deep blue flash of a jewel, the peculiar dash of the whole +makeup that spoke of lavish purse. The tramp watched and listened to the +comments of his companions unaware of his very existence, and thought +within himself how might he turn this accident of knowledge to his own +account. But when the three friends returned to their former attitudes +in the doorway of the fire house the tramp had melted away like the +shadows and was seen no more. + + + + + XV + + +Patterson Greeves had not slept at all the night before. His mind was +wrought to so high a pitch that it seemed as if he never would sleep +again. + +Silver’s music had not soothed him, instead it had wrought his heart to +sorrow with the memories which came trooping, flooding, threatening his +self-control. Her touch was so like her mother’s, her selections, many +of them Alice’s own favorites. It seemed as he sat there with +half-closed eyes watching her that it must be Alice. It could be no +other. + +At last the girl herself had seemed to feel the strain she was putting +upon her father, and whirling about on the piano stool she declared she +had played enough for the first night. + +It was then the minister roused from his delight in the music, realizing +that it was time for him to take his departure and leave this father and +daughter to settle their own situation by themselves. He expressed his +pleasure in the music and his hope that he might hear it again, more and +often, and made his adieu. + +“Just a moment, Bannard,” said Greeves as they neared the front door, +“I’ll get that book for you I was speaking of. I saw it this morning in +its old place on the shelf—if you don’t mind taking it with you.” + +They stepped into the library and turned up the light. There sat Blink, +sound asleep, with a draping of angle worms all around the rim of his +tomato can, and one bolder than the rest strewn out across his knee. + +Roused, he declared he had not been asleep, but had been enjoying the +fire and the music, merely waiting till they were through to present his +gift. Trust Blink to be equal to a situation. Nevertheless he grinned at +his worms, and gathering them up flashed a joke at them that brought a +little breath of mirth into the tense atmosphere of the evening and made +everybody feel better. + +When Blink and the minister had taken their leave Silver and her father +sat before the fire hand in hand, half shyly for a few minutes and +talked. + +If the music had not helped Patterson Greeves to solve his difficulties, +it had at least made the situation clearer to his daughter. + +“Father,” she said shyly, almost hesitantly, “don’t you think perhaps if +you will have a quiet talk with Athalie in the morning it might help? +I’ve been thinking about it. She’s probably as excited as we all are. It +must be hard for her too. I think perhaps if she understood you might be +able to make it easier for her. I was trying to think how I would feel +if I were in her place—she was terribly excited and hurt—you could see +that—” + +They talked for sometime and when Silver finally went to her room +Patterson Greeves turned out the light and in the dying firelight he +paced the room for hours, back and forth. + +In the small hours of the night Anne Truesdale from her anxious chamber +off the back hall heard him come softly up the stairs to his room, but +when she went in the morning to put his room to rights the bed had not +been slept in. There was only a deep dent in the coverlet where folded +arms and a head must have rested as of one on bended knees. But +Patterson Greeves had no one left to pray to, unless it might have been +his dead wife Alice, or his sweet departed Aunt Lavinia, for he did not +believe in a God. And if there had been a God he was angry with Him for +bringing all this horrible thing to pass upon him. + +But when morning dawned, even before Anne Truesdale had been down to +open the shutters and tidy up the rooms, he was back in the library +again, pacing back and forth. And as soon as ever it would have done any +good to call, he was after long distance trying to telephone his +divorced wife. He had decided that Athalie must go back to Lilla. He +would make it worth her while. + +He made a pretense of eating some breakfast with Silver—no sound had as +yet been heard from Athalie’s room, and none in the family were disposed +to disturb her—but it was plain that he was nervous and overwrought, +and the slightest sound made him start and listen for the telephone. + +When the call came at last, he hurried to the library only to be +informed that Mrs. Greeves had sailed for Europe the day before to be +gone indefinitely. + +He hung up the receiver and stared about the room with that dazed +expression he had worn the day before when he first knew that Athalie +was coming to him. And again there sounded in his ear the ring of that +derisive laughter, echoing along the halls of his soul with taunting +sweetness. Lilla had won out again. It was as if she had tossed her +daughter over into his keeping and put the sea between them, so that he +was not able to send her back, not even able to bribe Lilla with money +to take her unwelcome child to her heart again. + +After a few moments he rose and gravely walked to the window. The stun +of the blow was subsiding and he was beginning to take it in for the +first time that this impossible child was his irretrievably to keep and +to care for from this time forth, and that he could not rid himself of +the trust. For the first time he was taking it in, and some of the +things he had flung out in his first bitterness of soul in talking with +the minister the night before came back upon him as great truths that he +had uttered. He was responsible for the child, responsible for what she +had become. He could not shirk any longer what he had tried to shirk for +life. He must face it now. There was not distance enough in the whole +universe to put his responsibility away from him. It would follow him +like a shadow wherever he went, whatever he did. + +How could he ever write again with this horror hanging over him? Well, +what difference did it make to anyone whether he ever wrote again? What +difference did anything make to him? + +Gradually, however, the business habits of his life settled upon his +mind and he began to come at the question more sanely, more seriously, +and to really try to think what he could do, and what he should say to +this strange, unloving, unlovable girl. + +Perhaps the thought of Silver with the Alice-eyes writing some letters +up in Aunt Lavinia’s room, a sweet strong sane presence, helped to keep +him from the insane desperation that had come upon him the day before. +At any rate his tortured mind finally thought out a way, made a +semblance of a plan, of what he should say to Athalie and how he should +say it. + +Thinking more coolly now he could see that he had antagonized her. She +was like Lilla. That was plain. Strange that both his children should be +like their mothers entirely—and yet—no, he could see some things in +Athalie exactly like himself. That being the case perhaps he could +understand her a little better if he would come at her in the way he +would like to be approached himself, reasonably, gently, firmly, but +pleasantly. Subconsciously he had known that yesterday, but it had +seemed too much like yielding to an outrageous imposition to treat her +in any way but imperiously. Well, that was all wrong, of course, from +her standpoint. He had simply antagonized her. It would be of no sort of +use to try to control her until he had some hold upon her. He had shown +his utter disapproval of her, her dress, her appearance, her habits, +from the start. Could he possibly retrieve the past and begin again? +Well, it was up to him to try. He could not rid himself of her by making +her hate him, though he had no real desire to win her love. Still, he +must try something. He could easily see now it would be useless to send +her to any school against her will in this state of mind. She would only +disgrace him and be back upon his hands in a worse condition than +before. He must do his duty somehow, whatever a father’s duty was. +Somehow he had never thought before, till Silver looked at him with +Alice’s eyes, what the duty of a father might be. + +So he rang the bell for Anne and asked her to say to Miss Athalie that +he would like to see her in the library as soon as she had finished her +breakfast. + +Athalie took her time. + +She bathed herself leisurely, toying with her perfumes, she bathed her +face many times in very hot water and only powdered it lightly, giving a +becoming touch of shadow under her eyes as of much weeping and no lip +stick at all to her full mouth. It took quite a while to get just the +right atmosphere, for it was difficult to make the healthy Athalie look +as if she were going into a decline. + +She really was trying to please her father. She chose a little dashing +frock of dark blue wool with a great creamy white wool collar curiously +rolled about her shoulders, and a daring scarlet sash of crimson silk +with fringe that hung several inches below the hem. She even put on +black silk stockings, thin they were and extremely lacy, but black, and +completed by little fairy patent leather slippers with straps +intricately fastened to look like ancient Greek foot attire. A black +velvet band about her forehead completed her costume and she descended +slowly, casually, to the dining room and rang the bell imperiously. + +It was Molly who brought a tray with ample food, but she rang again and +sent for more, and pursued the even tenor of a prolonged breakfast with +satisfaction, until Patterson Greeves awaiting her in the library was +almost at the limit of his patience and his newly assumed gentleness, +and could barely keep his resolves from leaping out the door and +escaping him altogether. + +But at last, after lingering in the garden a moment to gather a +flaunting red tulip and stick it in her dress where it flared against +the white of the collar, she sallied into the library without waiting to +knock and gave her father a cool good morning, quite as if he might have +been the naughty child and she the casual parent, with many, many +greater interests than just parenthood. + +Following out his resolves with a visible effort he wheeled a +comfortable chair for her to sit down where the light would fall full +upon her face and he might study her as they talked. She watched him +sharply and then turned and stood with her back to him looking out the +window. + +“Come here and sit down Athalie,” he said, “I want to have a little talk +with you.” + +“Fire ahead, Pat,” she said nonchalantly, “I’d rather stand here and +look out.” + +What could a father do under those circumstances? I ask you what _would_ +a father do? His blood boiled. His temper arose and clamored for +satisfaction. He was no father of course, but how could he be? Here was +this impish child of his defying him again, making it practically +impossible for him to exercise the self-control and gentleness he had +intended. It was as if she suspected his scheme and was blocking it. How +could he have a heart-to-heart talk with a broad blue and white back, a +blur against the sunshine of the morning. How was he to make her +understand that he meant to do his best by her, do all that was best for +her whether it was hard for himself or not, if she stood like that and +ignored him? He ought to give her a good whipping. That was what she +deserved. It was barbarous of course, but she was a little barbarian, +and nothing else would probably reach her. Nevertheless—he glanced +around and summoned his new resolves that were just sliding out the +door, grappled them to his side, and began: + +“Athalie, my child,” he began, realizing that it was necessary for his +own good that he recognize the relation openly. He cleared his throat, +“I—ah—” + +“Aw, cut the comedy, Pat! What’s eating you? Spit it out! I know I’m in +for the deuce of a time, but if you’re going to preach a sermon you’ll +have to do it without me. This is too gorgeous a morning to be shut up +in the house. Say, Pat, don’t you ever play golf? What say if you and I +go to some country club around here and have a game, and then take +lunch? Let’s have a ripping old time together and get acquainted, and +after that if you haven’t got it all out of your system yet I’ll agree +to listen.” + +For an instant the astounded father gazed at the face of his cock-sure +amazing daughter and wavered, almost considering whether he could accept +this high handed proposal. Perhaps if he had this story might have been +a different one in many details, who can tell? But Patterson Greeves’ +sole contact with youth since he passed out of that class himself had +been in the class room or on the battle field, in both of which places +he had been the dictator, able to put his victim through instant +discipline if he did not obey in every particular; where a mere black +mark on a report card, or a spoken word to an under officer, meant that +the delinquent would be dealt with speedily and thoroughly, and where +respect and obedience were the foundation of breath itself and nothing +else was to be tolerated. + +And now, while his flesh shrank from the encounter before him, and his +whole soul cried out for respect and the open air, a relaxed conscience, +and a chance to get things into some natural order again, his puritan +inheritance and his whole training demanded respect and obedience, and +the moment passed. The scene of the night before rose in his mind’s eye +and his blood boiled. He was again in the position of an outraged parent +struggling for self-control while he read the ten commandments to a +naughty child. + +And perhaps it was as well, for Athalie knew how to take advantage of +the least opportunity, and she _had_ to learn _sometime_ that law was +law. + +The silence was growing very tense. Athalie, quick to note his every +phase of attitude toward her, so sure of him when she finished her +wheedling sentence, began to grow uneasy as his gaze continued, staring, +stern and displeased. + +“Athalie,” he spoke at last and his words were like icicles, “I can go +nowhere, do nothing, until I have had an understanding with you.” + +A sullen cloud settled down over the girl’s face. + +“Sit down.” He pointed to the chair. Athalie hesitated a second, then +with her sullen eyes like smouldering fires fixed on him, seemed to +think best to obey, but she sat down tentatively, with one foot slid +slightly behind her in readiness to arise again if he offended her. Her +lips were pouted angrily. She shrugged her shoulders with a bored +attitude as if she were but humoring him for the moment. + +The speech he had framed through the long hours of the night deserted +him now when he most needed it. Strangely it did not seem to fit. He +struggled to find the phrases, cutting ones, intended to show her her +place, and keep her in it, an ultimatum which would put things on a +proper basis. But the whole thing was gone, and nothing but his own +helplessness was upon him. + +Then something Silver had said the night before about talking gently, +reasonably, came to him. A sense of the room and its hallowed memories +filled him. It was as if those who had loved him and cared for him in +his earlier years might be hovering around unseen waiting to help him +through this trying time. He dropped his forehead on his hand for a +moment almost humbly, and then lifting his eyes he tried to tell the +girl what was in his heart. None of the sentences he had planned were +there. Many of the words he spoke he would not have wished to say to +her, it was condescending too much to one who had treated him and his so +lightly. + +“Athalie,” he said, and his voice sounded now more gentle, with that +certain something which always brings attention, “you and I are not in a +very pleasant position. Perhaps it may be as hard for you as for me, I +do not know. I may not have seemed to you very kind nor sympathetic when +you arrived. I certainly did not welcome you. I was utterly unprepared +for your arrival, as your mother must have known and intended that I +should be. I do not intend to speak of her nor the past any more than is +necessary; and there must of course be a great many things that you do +not understand about our peculiar situation. We shall just have to put +away the past and try to build up a relationship from the beginning. In +order to do that there are one or two things that must be clearly +understood. + +“In the first place we belong to an old and respectable family with many +traditions that must be honored, and standards that must be upheld. We +owe it to the past.” + +He studied her blank sullen face for a moment wondering if she +understood. + +He struggled to make his words plainer. + +“There are certain customs and laws of society which we have always +maintained. I cannot have my daughter transgressing these things. Our +women have always been good and pure, and have never sought to imitate +men, nor to flaunt their personalities or their persons. They have +always been modest, quiet, sweet women, dressing unobtrusively, +becomingly, and in a modest way. I cannot countenance the way you speak, +the flippant, pert, rude disrespect, both to me and to the old house +servants who have been with us so long that they are an integral part of +the family. I cannot countenance your mannish ways, nor your cigarette +smoking, nor your décolleté? dresses. I like sweet, modest girls, and if +you and I are to get on at all together you must drop these ways and try +to be a good girl.” + +Athalie’s eyes smouldered furiously, and her lips curled in contempt. + +“I suppose that other girl just suits you!” she stormed, “little simp!” + +“Silver seems a very modest, sweet girl,” he assented, wondering what he +ought to say about the way she had treated the picture last night. + +“Well, I _hate_ her!” said Athalie in low hard tones, “I HATE HER!—and +you sound to me awfully what they call at school, ‘mid-Victorian.’” + +Patterson Greeves began to realize that he was not getting on very well. +He looked at his hopeless offspring and longed to vanish out of her +sight forever, caring not where or how his soul was disposed, so he +might finally escape the problem of her. But something in his puritan +conscience refused to let him slide away from the issue. He must face +and conquer it. He had slid out of his situation with Lilla by letting +it take its course—or had he? Was she not even now as poignant and +tangible an element in his life as though he were struggling to live his +daily life by her side? It passed through his mind that perhaps nothing +was quite ever shoved aside or slid out of. Perhaps we always had to +reckon with everything we did, sooner or later—sooner _and_ later. That +was a question of life that might be worth looking into, might make a +good subject for an article for a magazine—what strange thoughts form +themselves beneath the surface when we are in the midst of a tense and +trying time! Patterson Greeves brushed the thoughts away impatiently and +sat up. He must get these things said that he had resolved to say. + +“It makes no difference what I sound like,” crisped the father, “nor by +what names your school friends choose to call things. I am telling you +certain facts which must be acted upon by you as long as you are under +my care. They are the only basis upon which you and I can have any +dealings whatever. You cannot carry things with a high hand, ignore +everybody else and overturn systems. You are not the ruler here, and you +must understand it from the beginning.” + +He paused and eyed her, but she gave no sign, just let her smouldering +eyes rest on him sullenly, unflinchingly, the slow contempt in the upper +lip continuing to grow. + +“Those things being thoroughly understood and complied with on your part +willingly,” he went on hurriedly, determined not to give her an +opportunity to demur, “I am entirely willing to talk over your future +with you, and try to arrange as far as is possible and best for you, to +make such plans as will be agreeable to you. As to the school you will +attend, I shall be glad to send for catalogues and let you have a part +in the selection of your—” + +She raised her hand imperiously. + +“Stop right there!” she demanded sharply, “if you’re banking on me being +a good little girl and going to school you might as well understand that +I won’t! I came here to live with you. The court said I was to be under +your care, and here I’m going to stay. If you try to send me away +anywhere I’ll simply run away and make you more trouble. I’d drown +myself before I’d go to another boarding school. I’ve lived in boarding +schools all my life and I’m _done with them_! You can’t shunt me off +that way for it can’t be done!” + +A glance into her eyes showed that she fully meant every word she said +and something in her tone reminded her stubborn father that she had +inherited his power of sticking to a decision. Remembering last evening +it seemed fully likely that she would carry out any threat that she +might choose to make. He shuddered inwardly and began to weaken. + +“Of course, if I found that you were entirely submissive and obedient it +might be possible to arrange a school not far away—” + +Athalie arose abruptly. + +“Is that all you have to say to me?” she asked in a business like tone, +“because I’ve got some letters to write.” + +“Athalie, sit down,” he thundered, entirely unnerved feeling that his +work was all undone again. + +“Not when you speak to me in that tone,” said the girl shrugging her +shoulders and raising her chin. “I suppose you call that kind of talk up +to the standards of your respectable family.” + +The crimson swept over her white sensitive face. Her voice was so +perfectly like Lilla’s, the reply so entirely what she would have given. + +“I beg your pardon, Athalie. It was not. I am very much upset this +morning. I will endeavor to control my voice. Will you kindly be seated? +Now, I want to ask whether you are going to be willing to be subject to +my authority? If not I must begin to take immediate steps to place you +where you will be looked after in the right way. I cannot have such +scenes recurring. I may as well say I _will_ not have them. I am a busy +man with important work to do, and this is utterly upsetting. Will you +be a good girl and try to do right?” + +His offspring regarded him coolly. + +“I don’t know whether I will or not,” she answered calmly, “it depends +upon how you behave. If you let me have my own way and have a good time +I presume I shall—depends upon what you call good. I don’t intend to be +goody goody. But if you try to bully me you’ll wish you hadn’t, that’s +all. That’s what I told Lilla when I left her. I said ‘Lilla, he may +have bullied you, but he’s not going to bully me. It isn’t being done.’” + +A sudden startled wonder came to him as she spoke of her mother that +made him forget to listen to the arrogant ending of her sentence. + +“Athalie,” he said suddenly changing the subject, “are you aware that +your mother has sailed for Europe?” + +The girl gave him a look as if he had unexpectedly stabbed her, and her +eyes filled up with tears, her lips trembled. She struggled for an +instant with a sob, gave a slight nod of assent with her chin and broke +down with a heart rending little cry, sinking her head upon her arms, +her whole gaudily attired body shaking with suppressed sobs, as if the +thought were too deep for sound. + +Patterson Greeves stared at her for a moment uncomprehending, unable to +meet this amazing phase of his most mysterious daughter, resenting her +change of combat as if she had broken some rule of the game. She was not +being true to type. How could he meet such an antagonist? Lilla used to +cry prettily, pettedly, outrageously, to order, when she found all other +weapons useless; but this was grief, genuine, deep, terrible. The grief +of an uncontrolled nature. Grief of the kind he always had felt in his +own troubles. Was it possible that something in his heart was stirring +toward her, yearning—? No. This child of Lilla deserved all she was +getting—ah! but child of himself too. Could it be possible that Lilla +loved the child? If so why had she sent her away from her? It seemed out +of the probable that Lilla could love anything but herself. Could it be +possible that the child loved Lilla? She did not seem like a loving +child. But those sobs were not angry, they were hurt, stricken cries. +Had Lilla been unkind to the girl? His sense of justice roused toward +her. He put out a vague hand and touched her shoulder. + +“Athalie, haven’t you had a—_happy_—life? Hasn’t your mother been good +to you?” he asked hesitatingly. + +She lifted a tear stained face from behind which fires flashed in her +eyes, and shook his groping hand off. + +“That’s none of your business,” she said, “you never tried to make it +any happier, did you?” + +The father sat and saw a few more of his shortcomings marched out before +him in the open, and swallowed hard on the sight. He, Patterson Greeves, +of a respected family had contrived to do some of the most contemptible +things a man can do on earth! It was unbelievable, and yet he was +beginning to believe it. + +He stared at her a moment with that dazed expression coming again. It +dazes most souls to really look in their own eyes and behold how +different they are from their fancied selves. Then he drew a deep sigh +and arose going to the window to stare out across the meadow. + +“No. I don’t suppose I ever did,” he said reluctantly at last. The sobs +ceased as suddenly as they had begun. There ensued a prolonged silence. +Then the father added as though to himself: + +“I had no intention of overlooking any duty, I simply did not realize.” + +Finally the girl raised her head and in quite a controlled voice said: + +“That’s all right, Pat, I’m here now. Forget it! We aren’t getting +anywhere and I’m going up and wash my face. If you change your mind +about that golf just send me word.” + +She was at the door when he wheeled about and said hesitatingly: +“There’s one thing, Athalie, I wish you wouldn’t call me Pat. I don’t +like it. It sounds disrespectful. It makes me ashamed. I—” + +“All right, dad, since you ask it that way I won’t, but I like you a lot +more when you’re Pat. It seems to make you more homey and +understandable. Well, so long! You know where to find me!” and she +flashed away like a bright-throated, naughty blue-jay. + +The father sat down in a chair and covered his face with his hands. The +interview for which he had been all night preparing was over and he had +got nowhere. Nothing had been accomplished, except that perhaps he +himself had weakened. A sense of his own forgotten responsibility, and a +certain wistful turn of her voice had undone him. How was he ever to do +anything with this unmanageable child? + +The door suddenly opened without warning and Athalie’s head flashed in +again. + +“I just wanted to say, dad, that if you take that other girl along you +needn’t count me in. She and I are two people. I hate her. So don’t go +to bunching us up for it won’t work, and don’t give me any more of that +line about getting advice from her about dress, see? I won’t stand for +it, that’s all. If you want me to live up to your standards you’ve got +to live up to mine! understand?” + +She was gone. And if she had suddenly hurled a leaden weight on her +father’s heart the world could not have turned darker or his heart been +more heavy. How was ever such a state of things to work out? + +A soft knock on the door broke in upon these thoughts, and Silver +stepped within the room dressed in coat and hat and gloves, with her +suitcase in her hand. + + + + + XVI + + +Whenever Silver came anew into his vision again she gave her father a +start, her appearance was so much like his lost Alice. + +There was something exquisite and spiritlike in her face that rested and +soothed him. It was curious that the word “blest” flitted through his +mind when he thought of how she made him feel. He lifted a troubled face +to greet her now and a sick dismay stole over him as he saw the suitcase +in her hand. + +She put it down and came quickly over to him, her lips smiling although +her eyes were grave. Her voice had a lilt of sorrow in it though she +tried to make it cheerful. + +“Father, I’ve thought it all out in the night,” she said perching on the +arm of his chair and putting her arm softly around his neck—just so her +mother used to sit and touch his hair lightly with her fingers. He had +not thought of it in a long, long time. + +“You see, I’ve sort of promised this man I would take this position, and +he has held it for me already for several days while I was getting +packed up. I feel that I ought to go back right away and get to work.” + +She was talking rapidly, trying to stem the tide of emotion she +evidently felt, and the stricken look on his face made it no easier. + +“I didn’t tell you this morning at breakfast because I didn’t want you +to be disturbed by any other question till you had had your talk with +Athalie. It wasn’t fair to her. But I saw her just now as she came +upstairs and I feel sure you have come to some understanding.” + +“Now, father dear, please don’t try to change me,” she took the hand +that he put out in protest and held it close. “Listen to me. It isn’t at +all what you are thinking. I’m not being driven away nor anything. I am +simply going away because I feel that it is my duty. No, you’re not to +talk, please, till I’m through. Listen, father, Athalie is younger than +I am and she needs you more. You must get acquainted with her and teach +her to love you. She hasn’t ever had anybody real to love her, I am +sure, and I have, you know. And it isn’t as though I didn’t have you +too. It’s quite, quite different from what it was before I came. I have +a father now and I know he loves me. And we can write to each other, and +that will be wonderful! And I’ll have someone to advise me—” + +“Stop!” cried Patterson Greeves springing to his feet, his tortured +nerves refusing to hear more. “Stop! don’t speak of it again! I tell you +I have borne enough. You shall not go away, Silver, my Silver-Alice! I +need you! I want you! You remember your grandmother told you to find out +if I needed you. Well, _I do_! God knows I do! Do you suppose for an +instant I would let the welfare of that other strange child come between +us? She is nothing to me, never can be. Her mother was a viper, and she +is going to be just like her! I will send her—!” + +Suddenly both of them became aware of the opening of the door and there +on the threshold stood Athalie, attired in giddy sports clothes with a +golf club in her hand, but the bright smile with which she had entered +had died on her lips and her face was white as death, her eyes like two +blazing coals. + +For an instant she stood there facing her father, her eyes wide with +sorrow, consternation, something terrible and inscrutable. Then she +turned with a quick glance of hate toward Silver and exclaimed: + +“Oh, heck!” + +The slam wherewith she emphasized her exit from the door reverberated +through the house like thunder as she stormed upstairs again. Anne +Truesdale hurried in from the back hall with her apron wrapped around +her hands and over her heart, and stood like an old gray squirrel her +head on one side perking her ears, watching, listening. But Athalie’s +sobs were smothered in the pillow for the hurt had gone deep, deep! + +The two left in the library white and shaken looked at one another. + +Silver’s eyes said sadly: “Father, don’t you see I must go?” but the +man’s lips spoke the answer. + +“It would be impossible, Silver. I could not endure her.” + +It was an hour before they arrived at a compromise. Silver was to remain +for a time, was to send for her trunk, and to be allowed to follow her +own course about keeping out of Athalie’s way, on condition that the +father was to make an honest effort to win Athalie to a better way of +behavior, and to try to cultivate a little love between them, though +that Patterson Greeves declared was an impossibility. + +To this end he had agreed to keep his feelings in the background and try +to show Athalie a good time, that being the thing which seemed to be +uppermost in her mind and the most likely to make her amenable to +reason. + +When Silver left him to go back to her room it was with the satisfaction +of seeing Anne Truesdale precede her up the stairs to tap at Athalie’s +door with the message that her father was now ready to go with her to +the golf links if she would come down at once. + +How had the slip of a girl learned to wind one round her finger? Just as +her mother used to do. Always able to make one see the sensible sane +thing to do, always willing to give up herself and stand in the +background while someone else was being helped. Oh, why, why could that +mother not have lived? He wondered all these things as he waited for the +other daughter to present herself, half hoping she would declare against +going. + +Athalie came slowly down with a gloomy air. Her eyes looked heavy and +her mouth slouched at the corners. She carried her bag of sticks slung +over her shoulder and she had taken care to wear a bright skirt in place +of the knickers which she would have chosen, obviously trying to please +him if he had but known it, trying to respect that vague respectable +family standard of which he had spoken. + +“Pristina!” called grandma from the sitting room, “come here quick and +tell me which one this is.” + +Pristina hurried from the kitchen where she was making cake, a flour +sifter in her hand. + +“That’s number one,” said Pristina assuredly, “she was the fat one with +the painted face. I wonder why the other one didn’t go too. They are +going to play golf.” + +“Seems to me that’s rather frivolous to begin with—golf,” said grandma. +“Seems as if for a man of his years he ought to be getting settled and +getting out his work. If he’s really so great as they say, writing books +and all, why don’t he write ’em? I have no patience with people trying +to keep from growing up. Golf! H’mmph!” sniffed grandma. + +“All great people do it nowadays, grandma,” assured Pristina, “they talk +in the magazines about it’s keeping you in condition.” + +“Condition! Fiddlesticks! If he’d get out and do a little digging in his +own garden it would keep him in condition enough. What was that +Pristina, that your Uncle Ned said the last time he came down from New +York? It was something very fitting about this golf.” + +“Oh, uncle said he had no time for knocking a pill around a ten-acre +lot. But grandma, that wasn’t original. I’ve heard it since, and read it +in the joke column.” + +“Very likely they got it from your Uncle Edward,” said grandma +reprovingly. “You have a way of discounting your relatives that is very +disappointing, Pristina. Your own family are as good as any you’ll find +anywhere. Don’t go yet, Pristina. Who is that coming up from the post +office? She’s met them. Perhaps she’ll be coming here. She’ll be able to +tell us something and then we shall know what to think. I declare it’s +very embarrassing not knowing what to think, nor how to act.” + +“That’s Lizette Weldon, grandma, and she’s bringing back the cup of +yeast she borrowed last week. I see a cup in her hand.” + +Lizette had seen Greeves and his daughter start out. + +“My soul!” said Lizette and hastened to grab her brown cape and get the +cup of yeast that she might not miss this so great opportunity. She met +them as they were passing the gate. + +“Yes, that’s the one! My, ain’t she coarse!” she commented inwardly. +“Now, does he think he’s going to pretend he don’t know me? Well, I +rather guess not. Good morning, Mr. Greeves. We’re pleased to see the +old house lighted up!” + +“There, now!” she said to herself, “that’ll make that fat thing +understand that I saw her last night and perhaps she’ll be more careful +when she cuts up her antics.” + +Patterson Greeves startled into recognition lifted a belated hat. + +“Oh, yes, good morning. It is a long time since it was lighted. Thank +you. I hope you are quite well!” + +“He didn’t know me from the man in the moon,” she told herself as she +hastened up the street with the yeast. “What a man! I don’t wonder she +divorced him. Mercy, but that girl is fat! And her clothes looked like +my patchwork quilt with the rising sun pattern. I wonder he lets her go +out that way. He knows what’s expected in this town, he lived here long +enough, goodness knows. But perhaps he doesn’t care what we think.” + +Pristina hastened to the door. Ordinarily Lizette was not overly +welcomed, but a common cause does a great deal to bring folks down to a +common level. + +“Well, what do you think of Patterson Greeves’ daughters?” she asked +almost before she had her breath from coming up the steps. + +“Daughters?” chorused the Vandemeeter girls, all present but Harriet who +was hastening down from the third story as fast as possible, having left +a pillow in midair as she was making the bed, when she heard Lizette’s +voice at the front door. + +“_Daughters!_” reiterated Lizette sitting down complacently with the cup +of yeast still in hand, “sort of startling ain’t it. I never heard of +them before, did you? Strange that Mrs. Truesdale or someone never let +it out, but land! she’s as close mouthed as Miss Lavinia Silver was, +every bit, and a thousand times more aristocratic. Well, I met one of +’em face to face and I don’t think much of her. She’s fat and coarse and +dresses outlandish. I was just thinking on my way down she looked as if +she had on my rising sun bed quilt, all queer stripes and stitches over +her skirt and sweater.” + +“Daughters!” echoed the Vandemeeters again and looked at one another. +“We must tell Arden’s wife!” + +“What’s her name?” asked Pristina. + +“Well, he didn’t name her when he introduced her,” evaded Lizette. +“Perhaps that’s the fashion now. But the fact is I don’t believe he +remembered my name, although he pretended he was awful pleased to see +me.” + +“Well—it’s only natural—after all these years—” said mother +comfortably. + +“No tain’t natural, you know tain’t. Why, I’ve spanked him for stealing +my cherries!” + +“That’s probably the reason,” said Pristina, “one can’t be dignified in +the face of a spanking. How old is that girl anyway?” + +“Well, I hardly know, Pristeen, she looked older, an younger, ’n she +oughtta be. I couldn’t quite describe it. Kind of as if she was an old +woman that hadn’t growed up, or a baby that had lived a hundred years. +One thing I know, she had smut under her eyes, and them lips never grew +red like that. It ain’t natur’.” + +“Is she the oldest or the youngest?” asked mother, biting off her thread +and holding up her needle to the light. + +“Well, ’deed I can’t really tell you Mis’ Vandemeeter, but I shud judge +she might be the youngest. But then I ain’t seen the other so you can’t +tell. This one wears pants, regular pants like the boys, if that’ll tell +you anything. But laws! The other one may too for all I know. She keeps +herself mighty close.” + +“She went out with Pat—with her father I mean—yesterday afternoon,” +contributed Harriet. “She looked to me like a real modest appearing +girl. She has pink cheeks, not too pink, and light hair, a real girl. I +liked her looks.” + +“I’m sure I don’t see how you could tell at that distance, Aunt +Harriet,” said Pristina coldly. + +“Well, her dress seemed quiet,” defended Harriet. + +“Well, they may wear dresses that scream for all me,” said Pristina +crossly, “I’m going back to my angel cake.” + +Lizette’s languidly alert eyes followed her mournfully, and when the +click of the flour sifter could be heard she lowered her voice +sepulchrally: + +“Wasn’t Pristina rather interested in Mr. Greeves at one time?” + +“Mercy, no!” clamored mother so audibly that her voice could be heard in +the kitchen, “Pristina was a babe in arms when he went away from here. +Just because she did her duty by honoring a fellow citizen in her essay +at the club everybody has jumped to the conclusion that she’s in love +with him. I wish to pity’s sake you’d turn your attention to someone +else, Lizette, and not carry gossip around about my child.” + +“Well, now Lucy, I certainly think you’ll have to take that back. I +don’t know what you mean. I only asked a simple question, didn’t I? And +I don’t originate all the questions in this town do I? If I give you a +little hint of what’s passing isn’t that only kindness?” + +Mrs. Vandemeeter pursed her lips around a pin and looked angry. + +“Well, all I’ve got to say,” said Lizette rising offendedly, “is, if you +don’t ever find any worse things said about you than I say you can count +yourself well off. There’s your yeast. Don’t trouble to get up. I’ve got +to run right back. I thought you’d be interested to know, but of course +if you’re not I’ll keep the rest to myself. Good-bye.” + +She shut the door with a slam and swished down the front walk. + +“Cat!” said Pristina from behind the pantry door. + +“There, now Lucy, I’m afraid you’ve done it. She’ll tell something a +great deal worse. It never does to make an enemy mad, especially if +she’s got a tongue, let sleeping dogs lie, the saying is, and it’s very +true,” said grandma. “Something about it being better to have even a dog +your friend, too, what is it? Don’t any of you know? It bothers me so to +have something like that I can’t remember. Now I shall lie awake all +night tonight thinking of that, and it will worry me like anything that +you gave her a chance to talk about Pristina, Lucy. She’ll talk, I know +she will.” + +“Let her talk!” said mother with her head in the air, “I guess Pristina +can stand it. Pristina’s a lady.” + +“Well,” said Pristina, “I’d like to know what those girls are named. You +can tell a whole lot by names.” + +“You’ll know soon enough,” said grandma, “get back to your cake. I +wonder if Arden’s wife knows about their being daughters! Well, I must +say it’s a relief to know they’re daughters. The neighborhood has always +been so respectable.” + +Athalie was a different creature on the golf course, alert, strong, +skillful, full of eagerness, like a boy. She whistled and talked slang +and patronized her father till he began to feel like a small boy +himself, and all the time as he walked silently from point to point +studying his amazing child, he was seeing himself in all her actions, +and then seeing Lilla in her waywardness between, and realizing more and +more that he was responsible for this queer tantalizing creature. Part +of the time also he was wondering why he had been persuaded to come out +on the golf course with this child whom he disapproved, whom he did not +want to be with, and why he was trying with all his might to control his +temper and make her have a good time. It was all Silver’s doings, +“Silver-Alice!” he said it over and over to himself. “Silver-Alice! +Silver-Alice! Silver-Alice!” and the name sounded sweet to his soul. Why +had he not known what sweetness there was in fatherhood? + +On the way home it almost appeared from something Athalie said that she +had been trying to make him have a pleasant time. He felt strangely +touched and chagrined. Not that he liked to have her put herself out for +him. It went against the grain to find her doing such a thing. But the +justice in his soul cried out for her due. He found himself promising +that the morning should be repeated and then groaning within himself +over the interruption to his life this was going to be. + +But when they reached the house and Anne told him that the minister had +called up to ask if they would like to take a drive that afternoon he +found himself entirely willing to be interrupted still further. + +There was a struggle in his mind about taking Athalie along on the +drive. He felt she would be a disturbing element. But when he asked her +finally if she would like to go she asked suspiciously: + +“Is _she_ going?” and when he answered in the affirmative she shrugged +her shoulders and said, “thank you, no. I told you how I felt about +that. You can’t expect me to come when you take her.” + +He was relieved. It made things easier. He felt sure Bannard would be +better pleased. + +Silver too was relieved. He could see that. Yet there was a cloud in her +eyes, a weight upon her heart. Her conscience was over active. It +troubled her that there should be enmity between her father’s daughter +and herself. + +But the day was gorgeous, one of those caressing days in spring when +June seems to have anticipated herself and earth’s tuning has begun. +Little warm scents flitted about, and tiny melodies of living creatures +moving, the whir of a bee’s wings, the grumble as he worked, the stir of +things growing, budding, blossoming, grass blades like rockets shooting +everywhere, sharp emerald sounds broadcasting only to those whose ears +attuned to their pitch, a meadow lark’s note, high, clear above it all. + +And then the three seemed so congenial. There was so much to see and +talk about, so much in which all were interested. + +Bannard was the guide, Greeves the historian, Silver the audience, +eager, questioning. + +They started up the road past the schoolhouse where Greeves had been a +student, out the old Pike, across the covered bridge and curving back of +the village along the beach of silver beside the sparkling stream, down +toward Frogtown. Bannard wanted to show them his mission, and to point +out a good location for the proposed building. + +They drew up in front of a row of old stone hovels crazily jostling each +other facing the road and the creek. Bannard pointed to a vacant lot not +far away, and he and Greeves were discussing whether it would be better +farther up the hill. Silver sat watching the children playing on the +path, dirty little things, yet beautiful beneath the dirt. Wonderful +starry black eyes set in faces that might have been the models for some +of the angel faces in the paintings of great masters, tumbled curls, and +rosy cheeks, tiny earrings glittering sharply under the dirt and tousle, +little bodies scantily clad, little savages unaware of their soil and +nakedness. Clamoring, fighting, throwing mud, the older girls carrying +babies too large sizes for their backs, the younger babies huddled to +watch the automobile. + +A woman hurried out from one of the houses, a curious three-corner shawl +of bright colors thrown over her head and folded back like a head dress. +She had an air of excitement. Bannard called to her: + +“Good morning, Nuncie, all well at your house?” + +“Oh, it’s the maister!” cried the woman, her voice full of agitation, +her dark lined face working with emotion. + +“It’s the baby, little Mary, Angelo’s Mary. Vary seek. I go for the +doctor. He come two times yesterday. I tink she got the pneumonias. She +turn all black. Her heart stop—” + +Before the account was finished Bannard was out of the car. “Will you +excuse me a moment?” he said hurriedly, “I must go in and see. This is +the beautiful baby I told you about,” he finished, looking at Silver. + +“Oh, please let me come too. Perhaps there is something I can do. I have +had a course in nursing.” + +“Come then,” said Bannard and hurried into the house without knocking. + +Greeves put out his hand to stop her, but Silver was gone before he +realized. Pneumonia! Didn’t the child know that was contagious. What did +Bannard mean by letting her go? Suppose she should take it and die, now +when he had just got her, leave him as her mother had done! He shuddered +and sprang out of the car, resolved to bring her back again into the +clean air and sunshine, away from germs and contamination. What was the +use of being a specialist on germs if one couldn’t save one’s own from +danger? So he stumbled up the steps and into a deserted room. + +There was no squalor nor dirt. The walls were grimy with age and use, +and the bare floor was worn in hollows by many feet, but both were clean +as soap and water could make them. He stared about. There was nothing in +the room but a cookstove neatly blacked with a pot of stew simmering +away, a wooden table covered with oilcloth, two chairs and an old sofa +with lumpy springs. A painted dresser held a few cheap dishes, some +spoons and forks; and a pair of rude steps shallow almost as a ladder +led up through an open door, winding out of sight. He could just see the +flash of Silver’s gray-blue tweed skirt as she disappeared up those +impossible stairs. + +“Silver!” he called and then without knowing it, “Alice!” but no one +answered him. The sound of the factory near by kept up a monotonous +clatter in regular rhythm, and there were subdued voices overhead. He +stepped to the door and looked up. Such stairs! He never had seen their +like. They were like carvings in a sheer wall. They went winding up in +the shallow space like pictured stairs, like the stairs in a nightmare. +How did anybody ever climb them? How had Silver and Bannard climbed +them? Didn’t Bannard know any better than to let a girl go up a place +like that? He put a tentative foot on the first step and perceived that +it was hollowed out in bowl shape by many feet that had gone before. He +groped with his hand to the wall that seemed to advance and slap him in +the face. He lifted another foot to another step, and went winding and +groping up in the dark and uncertainty. A woman appeared at the head of +the stairs weeping. She had wonderful dark hair and her eyes were +piteous. + +“I have come for my daughter. She ought not to be in here,” he shouted +at her. The woman chattered some jargon at him that had a tang of +French, or was it Italian? But he could understand nothing but the words +“doctor” and “little ba—bee” and then more tears. She passed beyond his +vision. + +He lifted himself another step, and yet another and stood head and +shoulders in a room light and clean with whitewash, a large framed +picture of the painted Christ on the cross hung on the wall opposite him +over the head of a big brass bed made up with white draperies trimmed +with hand knit lace, and on the clean pillow lay a little face, the most +beautiful baby face Greeves had ever looked upon, short black curls +tumbled on the pillow, long curling lashes dark upon the rounded cheek, +beautiful baby lips gasping for breath, treacherous blue shadows +deepening about the eyes and nose. + +“These windows ought to be up if it’s pneumonia,” Bannard explained in a +whisper. He stretched out a strong arm and threw up both windows. Silver +was leaning over the baby feeling of her forehead touching the pulse of +the little fluttering restless hand. + +“She ought to have oxygen, Mr. Bannard. Can’t you get some quick?” +Silver looked up. + +“I’ll get it,” said the minister. “Can you stay here till I come?” + +She nodded. “Quick!” she was down on her knees beside the bed, putting +the spoon which the mother handed her to the little tight-shut lips. + +“She ought not to be here!” repeated Greeves wildly, but Bannard swept +him along down the stairs with a strong arm. + +“Greeves, just run over to that grocery and ring up Doctor Carr. Tell +him I said to come instantly to Angelo’s house. I must go for oxygen. +You stand by till I come. I’ll be back in five minutes.” + +Before the dazed professor of bacteriology knew what was happening or +could put in a protest Bannard’s car had given a lurch and darted down +the road, and Greeves found himself walking across that squalid street, +entering the grimy unsanitary grocery and asking if he might telephone +for the doctor. It reminded him of France. But is was very different +from sitting in an office and telling other officers where to go and +what to do. He had done reconstruction work, yes, by proxy. It was not +the same. He had been an executive. But this was close contact. He +hurried back with the idea of carrying Silver bodily out of the infected +air, and found himself once more standing at the top of those ladderlike +stairs in that white airy room, gazing at the little blackening face, +listening to the gasping of the baby, the mother’s tears, and his +daughter’s voice praying in low gentle tones: + +“Oh, Jesus, you know how this mother loves her baby. Come and help us if +it be your will, save this little darling’s life. For Jesus’ sake we ask +it,” and the mother bowed and crossed herself, hushing her sobs. + +Someone brushed roughly by Greeves on the stairs almost upsetting his +balance. To think these people lived every day on stairs like this. +Incredible! A tall man, young, splendidly built came quickly to the bed +and knelt on the other side from the mother and Silver. He took the +little fluttering hand in his big rough one. His face was tender and +there were tears raining down his cheeks but he paid no heed to them. + +“Poppie come, Mary, poppie come! You hear poppie, Mary? Poppie come home +from his work to stay with Mary!” + +Greeves stood and gazed transfixed at the face of the rough man before +him, transformed by love, tender and sweet with fatherhood! So this was +what it meant to be a father! + +This was the way he would have felt if he had let himself! This was what +he threw away carelessly when he took himself out of the reach of his +first little child, and brought another carelessly into the world to +leave to any Fate that came her way. + +“Let poppie hold it Mary. Let poppie hold it!” the strong hand grasped +the weak restless fingers, and the little hand relaxed. For an instant +the great dark eyes opened wide in recognition of the beloved face, and +the dark head that had kept up its restless motion back and forth, from +side to side on the pillow rested. The parched lips that had murmured +hoarsely—“No! No! No!” were quieted. Then the blessed oxygen in the +hands of Silver and Bannard reached her nostrils and she drew a long +deep breath. The gasping ceased little by little and another breath +came. A sigh of relief. The fluttering lids drooped and the long lashes +lay on the white cheeks again. A restful natural sleep was coming upon +the little one. + +The doctor came in quietly, laid a practiced finger on the fluttering +pulse. The child started and opened her eyes once more. Her glance +rested on the doctor in frightened question, then turned to the father +and was content, dropping off to sleep again. The doctor nodded to +Silver in answer to some question about the oxygen, opened his case and +prepared some drops which he handed to Angelo. The father took it and +held it to the little lips with as much skill as one trained to such +service could have rendered. Greeves stood there watching him with +almost jealous eyes, seeing as in a vista a long line of tender services +he might have rendered had his heart been right to his own. Where did +this rough untaught man learn such angelic gentleness? Here in this bare +little house with an environment of the plainest necessities, the father +had fenced in a little piece of the kingdom of heaven for his child. +Greeves suddenly realized that he was envying this rough untaught +working man. With all his knowledge and culture he had missed the +blessedness of living which this other man had found, and even his +sorrow was sacred because of the love that was between him and his +child. + +Bannard had gone out again and now returned bringing with him the +district nurse. She quietly took things in her capable hands and the +minister’s group was no longer needed. + +As he stumbled shakily toward the treacherous stair Greeves caught hold +of the rude railing and gave one more glance back at the big brass bed +with the exquisitely knitted white spread, and the wee white face framed +in dark curls on the big pillow. The madonna mother was standing at the +head on one side, the tender father kneeling at the other, tears raining +unchecked down their sorrowful faces, and the face of the painted Christ +overhead looked on with yearning eyes. It was a sight he never would +forget. + +He felt his way down the dark chute, for it was little else, groping +with his feet for the shallow steps, and stumbled out into the sunshine, +silent and thoughtful. He forgot how it was that he came to go into that +house of sorrow, forgot that he had let his child stay as long as she +was needed, forgot the words of criticism he had prepared for Bannard +for letting her go into the infectious atmosphere. For the first time in +years he had become a part of a great suffering universe. He forgot his +own individuality, and his grievances, and his heart was throbbing with +sorrow for another. + +Meantime, Athalie at home, was preparing an elaborate toilet for her +evening with Bobs in the city. + + + + + XVII + + +Down the street from the direction of the schoolhouse proceeded a merry +group of girls, stopping at their various respective houses on the way +to leave books, lunch boxes, and tidy up hair and hands and face. +Laughing and chattering they came on with a sudden hush of awe as they +approached the Silver gate, so long an unopened portal to young people. + +Mary Truman and Roberta Moffat went first by reason of Mary’s having +been the instigator of the function. Mary’s heavy braid of bright long +hair had needed little tidying. It ended in a massive wave of gold below +the crisp dark blue ribbon, and frilled in little golden tendrils about +her face. Mary wore no hat to rumple the smoothness of the ripples from +the delicate line of parting on her crown. She scorned hats, except for +Sunday. + +Her neat blue and white checked gingham was just low enough to show the +white of her throat, above the sheer collar that matched the rolled back +cuffs and pockets banded with the gingham. The whole school thought that +Mary Truman was always well dressed. Those little gingham bindings on +the organdy pockets for instance marked the line between the banker’s +daughter and other girls whose mothers had not the time to bother with +such details. + +Roberta Moffat was short and fat, attired in pink chambray whose hem had +visibly been “let down” and whose yoke had faded to a nice dependable +flesh tint, but her round pleasant face was always wreathed with smiles. +She had a glitter of white even teeth and a pair of nice black eyes +above the little pug nose that was covered with freckles. Always copying +Mary as far as her limited means allowed, she wore no hat, gathered her +scant locks into an attenuated pigtail, and acquired a habit of tossing +back the straight locks that would keep falling over her eyes where the +hair wasn’t quite long enough from a defunct bang to catch into the +confining pink ribbon that started the pigtail. The ribbon was washed +and dyed, and showed signs of droop, but had been retied and stuck out +bravely for the occasion. + +“I guess she’ll be glad when she sees somebody coming to call on her +soon, don’t you, Mary?” whispered Roberta with a soft giggle. + +“I should think she ought to,” said Mary seriously, “I certainly am glad +you are all with me, girls. Just think how I’d feel now if I was alone!” +and she squeezed Roberta’s plump elbow lovingly. + +Emily Bragg was tall and her sleek brown hair had been bobbed, not for +purposes of style however. The top was longer than the rest and fastened +at the side with a celluloid slide that gave her the look of an +old-fashioned china doll with painted hair all made up hard. She wore a +straight little one-piece frock of brown denim with characters worked +around the edges in red worsted. On her head was a boy’s brown wool cap, +one of her brother Tom’s, and the big shell rimmed goggles that +sheltered her merry eyes gave her the look of a good natured boy. She +climbed trees and fences, could whistle as well as any of her brothers, +and everybody liked her, but she wasn’t a beauty. She was just behind +Mary and Roberta, walking arm in arm with little Carol Hamilton, a +slight little fairy with pink cheeks and short golden curls who always +dressed in pale blue and was adored because she was so pretty. + +Della McBride was much taller than the rest, wore her long brown braids +in a coronet around her head and had big dark blue eyes with long +lashes. The seriousness of her face was somewhat accentuated by a +retreating chin. She was wearing a middy blouse and a dark blue skirt, +and her companion Vera Morse, a quiet girl with pale eyes and her hair +“done up” and brought in sleek loops over her ears, wore a white shirt +waist left over from last year, and a brown wool skirt. She carried a +brown straw sailor in her hand, and talked in a low sweet voice. + +They were a wholesome group as they fluttered up to the steps and +sounded the old brass knocker, their subdued chatter like the chirps of +a bunch of sparrows on the garden wall. + +Anne Truesdale let them into the house and seated them in the drawing +room dubiously. Such a circumstance had not happened since the days of +Miss Lavinia, six whole callers at once in the old house! Then with deep +reluctance, only goaded thereto by an indubitable conscience, she +mounted the stairs and tapped at Athalie’s door. + +“Oh, come in,” drawled that young woman affably, “I’ll let you fasten +this frock. I can’t seem to reach around there any more. I was just +about to ring for you. It fastens up the back under that drapery.” + +Anne paused in dismay and surveyed the young woman, but made no move to +investigate the hooks in question. + +“There are some young persons down in the drawing room come to call on +you,” she announced severely as if it were a reward far too good for the +girl before her, but must be handed over for honesty’s sake. + +Athalie swung around and faced her. + +“Come to see _me_? What are they? Men?” + +“Of course not!” reproved Anne. “They’re little girls.” + +“_Little girls!_” scoffed Athalie taking up a powder puff and giving a +touch to her nose, “well, you can tell them to go to thunder! I’m busy. +I hate little girls.” + +Anne gasped and tried to begin again, with fearful vision of what it +would be if this strange freak of a girl refused to go down. + +“Indeed, Miss Athalie, they’re quite grown up little girls. They’re some +of them older than yourself, and they’re the daughters of the best +people in this town. Your father’ll be quite angry if you don’t see +them.” + +Athalie surveyed her coldly. She remembered that she was trying to +please her father as far as it was compatible with her own plans. + +“Very well,” she said coolly, “I’ll be down after a while and look them +over, but I never had much time for girls, unless they have some pep, +and I don’t fancy they have in this little old town. Are you going to +fasten those hooks for me or not?” + +“Oh, Miss Athalie,” said Anne disapprovingly, “you’ll never be going to +wear that frock downstairs at this time of the day! The whole village +would be scandalized, and your father would be disgraced. The young +ladies would not understand it I am sure. It’s not at all the custom to +dress in that style of an afternoon.” + +Athalie was attired in a startling costume of scarlet satin and tulle, +set off by long clattering strings of enormous jet beads, and pendant +hoops of jet with long fringes dangling from her ears. Her hair stood +out in a perfect thistledown fluff, scarlet stockings of sheerest silk, +and tiny high heeled red leather slippers with intricate straps adorned +her plump feet. Her face and arms and neck, of which there was much in +evidence, were powdered to a degree of whiteness that reminded Anne +Truesdale of a Bible phrase about whited sepulchres. Indeed she was a +startling vision as she stood there imperiously waiting for Anne to +fasten her scant shoulder drapery and looked years older than she was. +Many items of her toilet which happened to be picked up from Lilla’s +cast off finery doubtless assisted in this impression. But when Anne +finished her protest, and made no move to assist her ladyship, a storm +arose on the whited face, and the red kid slippers stamped in rage. + +“Thank you,” she said grandly, “I’m not in the habit of accepting advice +from the servants about what I shall wear. You can go! I’ll get along +without your assistance. I see I shall have to ask my father for a +French maid. Go! I said! _Go!_” + +Anne went. + +When she reached the door she paused. + +“You’ll be down at once, Miss Athalie, please—! It’s not considered +good breeding to keep young ladies waiting.” + +“Shut that door!” stormed Athalie. “I’ll be down when I like and not +before.” + +Then in quite a leisurely manner she dabbed more powder on her nose, +struggled with the refractory hooks until she conquered them, tilted a +bit of a hat of scarlet straw and ribbon atop her fluff of hair, brought +it well down over her eyes, jerked it aslant until the dangling cluster +of overgrown cherries wherewith it was adorned hung well over one cheek. +She surveyed herself in the glass complacently, posed imperiously, then +took up a pair of long black gloves, an evening coat of black satin with +a collar of white fur, and slowly descended the stairs. + +Down in the drawing room the waiting girls were having a grand time. +They had been little children when last they remembered coming to that +dim shrouded room to call on dear Miss Lavinia whom each one of them had +loved. They went quietly about looking at the portraits and whispering +at first, giving bits of memoirs that were family traditions in their +homes. Gradually they settled down to await their hostess’ coming. + +“We ought to have told Mrs. Truesdale not to have her dress up,” said +Mary, “we should have said we’re just from school.” + +“Oh, well, what’s the difference. She’ll come pretty soon,” said +Roberta, “I like to sit in this big room and wait. Won’t it be a grand +place to have the Christian Endeavor social? My! I hope she asks us. We +could toast marshmallows at that fire, and there’s room for a long line +of chairs for Going-to-Jerusalem. The boys always like that so they can +rough-house.” + +“Maybe Mr. Greeves might not like rough-housing,” suggested Della. “He’s +a very great writer my father says.” + +“Oh we’ll get father to invite him over that night so he won’t hear it,” +said Mary happily. “Father can always fix people so they don’t mind +things.” + +“Well, I’m sure I don’t think its very polite of her keeping us waiting +so long. There won’t be any time to take her walking nor show her the +schoolhouse before supper if she doesn’t hurry.” + +“Maybe she was taking a bath,” suggested practical Emily Bragg. “You +know you couldn’t come down all soap.” + +The girls giggled. + +“Shh!” said Mary, “I think she’s coming.” + +“I wonder what grade she’ll be in,” whispered Carol. + +“Sshhh!” said Roberta, “there she is! Oooohhh!” + +Athalie flashed on their vision between the portières, and stood, one +hand holding back the heavy curtain, her evening cloak still on her arm, +and looked them over half contemptuously. They arose en masse, in +silent, breathless wonder. They had never seen anything like it before +not even in the movies. Silver Sands was rather careful what films came +to town. Mrs. Truman headed a committee of patrons who assisted the +managers in making their selections. + +At last Athalie broke the stillness which was growing fairly electric: + +“I’m Miss Greeves!” she announced, “did you want to see me?” + +The girls might have been said to huddle in a group, feeling suddenly +that in numbers was strength. Mary as leader and instigator of the +expedition gave a frightened glance behind her, and stepped bravely up +as her father would have done if he had been there. + +“We’ve come to call,” she said pleasantly, watching the twinkling +earrings with curious fascination, “mother thought you might be +lonesome—” + +“Very kind, I’m sure,” responded Athalie insolently, “I was just going +out, but it’s early. I can spare a few minutes.” + +She flung her cloak and gloves on a chair and sat down, her scarlet +tulle draperies flaming about her. She sat with the pose of a society +lady, her body flung rather than seated upon the chair. The girls were +deeply impressed, all but Emily Bragg who wanted to laugh. + +“We don’t have to stay,” said Emily, “girls, let’s go over to Mary’s and +make fudge if she’s busy.” + +“We just came in because we thought you might be lonely,” repeated Mary +again, deeply embarrassed. + +“Oh, I’m never lonely,” flipped Athalie, “besides I have hosts of +friends who’ll soon be here to see me from N’York. I’m going to have a +house party next week, sixteen in all, eight girls and eight men!” + +“Men?” echoed Roberta wonderingly. + +“Yes, eight men. Of course it’s awfully hard to get them this time of +year when it’s so near time for exams, but they’ll be here for the week +ends.” + +“Oh, you mean examinations,” said Della seriously. + +“We thought perhaps you’d like to join our Christian Endeavor society,” +braved Mary. “It’s awfully interesting.” + +“I don’t imagine so. What is it? A dancing club?” queried Athalie +indifferently. + +“Oh, no!” said Mary, two red spots appearing on her pretty cheeks. She +felt she wasn’t getting on very well somehow, “it’s just our young +people’s society. We have lots of good times. Picnics and socials, and +we play games, and then we have our meeting Sundays—” + +“What kind of games? Bridge? Five Hundred? or do you go in for +athletics? I don’t suppose you play golf?” + +“Bridge? Oh, no, not bridge!” said Vera. + +“Nor five hundred,” said Della, “just games.” + +“My father plays golf,” said Carol. “I’ve tried it but I don’t care much +for it. It’s too slow. I like tennis better. We have tennis courts at +the school.” + +“Are you going to start school right away? We’ve been wondering what +grade you’d be in.” + +“I? School? Oh, I’m done with school! Dad tried to talk school to me +when I first arrived, but I let him understand he couldn’t make anything +on that line. I’m certainly sick of school. Of course we had piles of +fun at the last one, pajama parties every night, and screams of times. +The boys from the prep weren’t far away, and they were always onto us +when any of us got a box, so they’d come over under our windows and we’d +throw down cake, and they’d tie boxes of candy and cigarettes on the +strings we let down, and notes, oh, say! Those boys were the limit! +There was always something new. But what bored me was the teachers! They +didn’t seem to remember that they had ever been young, and they kept at +us continually, nagged us about our lessons, and exams, it made me hot! +They were getting paid for us being there! I don’t see what more they +wanted.” + +Silence, prolonged and heavy ensued. The girls looked at one another awe +stricken for the father whose daughter had so little daughterly respect. +They all had fathers whom they loved, fathers who were trusted, tried +companions. It didn’t quite go down. Athalie realized she had struck a +wrong note. She liked to shock people but when it came to being looked +down upon, she didn’t quite like it. Neither did she understand the look +of awe and disapproval on their young faces. Emily Bragg began to giggle +as if somehow she were some sort of show. The others darted quieting +glances of rebuke. Athalie felt she must break this silent disapproval. +She hated them for not admiring her. She got up with a swagger and +whipped out her cigarette case. + +“Oh, excuse me girls, do you smoke? Have a cigarette.” She passed the +gold trinket to Mary. + +Mary seemed to turn pale. She got up and took a step toward the +curtained doorway. + +“I think we must be going,” she said coldly. + +“Oh, don’t you smoke? Not _any_ of you? How tiresome! Then I’ll order +tea. Truesdale!” she lifted her voice, “tea for the ladies!” + +Anne appeared instantaneously, as though she had not been far away, her +face white with emotion. + +The girls eyed one another uncertainly. They wanted to get away. They +did not any of them drink tea. It was not allowed in most of their homes +at their age unless they were ill. They didn’t like it. + +But the tea wagon appeared as if by magic, and behold Anne had provided +lemonade as well as tea! And there were heaping plates of angel cake and +chocolate cake. No one ever caught the servants in that house napping. +They were always on the job and always anticipating every possible +contingency. Molly was even then in the pantry concocting another cake +to take the place of those for dessert that evening along with the +strawberries. + +Athalie had lighted a cigarette and taken a few puffs at it delicately +as the tea wagon was brought in. Now she poured herself a cup of tea and +drank it with several pieces of cake while Anne was serving the girls. + +Mary with her plate in her hand looked up to find Athalie’s eyes upon +her with amused contempt. Her heart cried out to get away and weep on +her mother’s shoulder. She never had felt so utterly outraged in the +whole of her happy protected life. It seemed as if the very foundations +of her clean beautiful world had been torn away and flung to the four +winds. “I hate her! _I hate her!_” her heart kept saying over to +herself. + +“I thought you were going to ask her over to your house tonight to make +fudge,” suggested Roberta in a loud whisper, and Mary, lifting her eyes +perceived that Athalie had overheard. + +“We were going to make fudge tonight at our house,” said Mary thus +prodded. “I live next door. Would you like to come? We’ll have a lot of +fun.” + +“Any men coming?” asked Athalie speculatively. + +“Men?” queried Mary half puzzled, “my father—” + +“She means the boys,” said Emily Bragg, “my goodness!” and giggled. + +“Our high school boys will be there,” said Mary truthfully, hoping +Athalie couldn’t read it in her eyes how much she did not want her. + +“Boys?” said Athalie, “awfully young I suppose? Well, I’m sorry but I +can’t make it tonight. I expect to spend the evening at the roof garden +in the city, maybe a cabaret or two afterwards. I sha’n’t be home till +quite late. Sorry—some other time perhaps. Now, I’ll have to ask you to +excuse me. It’s getting late. So glad you called. Good-bye.” + +She gathered up cloak and gloves and marched grandly out of the room, +down the hall and out the front door just as Anne Truesdale appeared +with another plate of cookies to supplement the rapidly disappearing +cake. She had intended to leave word with Anne Truesdale that she had +gone to bed with a sick headache and did not wish to be disturbed for +dinner, and then to descend to the street by way of the pergola, but the +temptation to sail grandly out before these girls was too great and she +followed her impulse. There would be a way out of it all after she had +had her fun, and the momentary vision of Anne, startled, her mouth +dropped open as she watched her leave, did not worry her at all as she +adjusted her long cloak and sailed jauntily down the street. + +Over at Vandemeeter’s every eye was watching, as they had been since the +school girls entered. It made a pleasant little stir in the monotony of +the day to feel that festivity going on. It recalled days when they +themselves arrayed in best silks, new hats and fresh gloves had accepted +Miss Lavinia’s sweetly, friendly invitations and felt above the common +lot for a few brief hours. Ever since Arden’s wife had run in in the +morning to tell them that the girls had planned to go they had gone +about their work with a pleasant anticipation. They felt in a way +concerned, and thought highly of the Trumans for having suggested the +call, for was not this a public recognition? And if departed spirits +were permitted a glimpse now and then of their old homes, would not Miss +Lavinia be pleased that the town had honored her beloved boy’s family? +They felt the Trumans had done the proper thing and were glad they +belonged to a town that knew what to do in a trying situation. Glad, +too, that the question of accepting Patterson Greeves or not into good +and regular standing in the town had been settled so satisfactorily by +the Trumans. No one ever questioned what the Trumans did. + +But when the scarlet lady with her flapping coat of black and white +suddenly emerged from the old front door and sallied down the front walk +with such an air, they gazed in amazement with bated breath, and no one +dared whisper till she was out of sight. Then all with one consent drew +back from their several windows and looked at one another as if facing +some awful thought. + +“_Who_ was she?” + +It was mother, her rugged face almost white with a kind of social +fright, who broke the silence and voiced the wonder of them all. + +Pristina whirled back to the window and in a hard little voice answered: + +“It was _her_! The fat one! The one _they went to call on_!” + +“Oh, my _soul_!” said mother, stooping to pick up a pin and unable to +find it in her excitement. “Oh, my soul and body! Why that’s an insult.” +Maria licked her lips with the tip of her tongue with the motion a man +uses to whet a scythe. + +“Now I wonder what’ll happen!” she said, a hard glitter in her eyes, as +if she rather enjoyed the prospect. Maria was one of those who having +failed in gaining many of the joys of this life was not content to see +others receiving them. Not that she was unkindly when it came right down +to actions—only in a little cattish way with her tongue, and the +expression of her face. + +They were watching the Silver house so hard that they failed to notice +the minister’s car until it drew up in front of the gate. Mother +strained her eyes anxiously. + +“Well, anyhow, I’m glad it wasn’t that one. She seems to be real sweet.” + +“Now, mother, you always jump to such hasty conclusions,” said Maria. +“I’m sure I don’t see how you can tell whether she’s sweet or not at +this distance.” + +Said Pristina thoughtfully: + +“She’s sitting in the front seat with the minister!” + +“Yes,” said Maria caustically, “seems to me it’s a little soon to begin +that.” + +“Maybe he began it,” said Harriet sympathetically. + +“Not he!” said Maria. “He wouldn’t have to! It beats me what the girls +nowadays have done with their modesty!” + +“Well, where did modesty bring us?” laughed Cordelia. + +“Cordelia Vandemeeter! I’m surprised!” rebuked Maria. + +Then Silver and her father and the minister got out and went up to the +house and the front door closed again. And what had become of the high +school girls at tea? + + + + + XVIII + + +Barry Lincoln was helping Sam Fitch to build a fence for his chicken +run. The Fitch place stood up and back from the street on a slight +elevation among a grove of light maples. The chicken run was higher up +the hill to one side and commanded a wide view of the road winding round +to the bridge, and over into the woods. It was the last house on the +street as you went toward Frogtown from the south end of Silver Sands. + +Barry had just pounded his thumb trying to straighten a refractory nail, +and had thrown down the hammer and stuck the soiled thumb in his mouth +when the flash of a scarlet hat, and the flutter of scarlet tulle came +into sight down the road. For an instant he stared in astonishment for +such a sight was not native to Silver Sands and Barry knew everybody +that lived there, by sight at least. Then something familiar in the +swagger of the plump figure struck him and he drew his brows in a frown +and turned a quick look at Sam. + +Sam was down on his hands and knees with his back to the street nailing +wire to the base. He would not be likely to see her. Barry stooped and +picked up his hammer, and began a tremendous pounding on the corner +post, straightening another nail, his weather eye to the road, unheeding +the blood which was streaming from his bruised thumb. + +At just the right instant as Athalie passed behind the group of tall +cedars and was for a few seconds lost to view, he threw down his hammer +with an exclamation, and called to Sam in an imperative voice: + +“Oh, I say, Sam, run to the house quick and get me a rag to do up this +blamed thing. It’s bleedin’ like the deuce!” + +Sam accustomed to obey Barry, his baseball idol, dropped his own hammer +instantly and with a sympathetic glance toward his wounded companion +steamed toward the house without delay. When he returned with the +required rag and a bottle of arnica Athalie was well across the bridge. + +A tumult of thoughts was running through Barry’s brain, foremost among +them the telephone conversation he had overheard the day before. Vaguely +in the background the sudden flash of coral and silver draperies and +little shiny slippers, the tempest of words he had heard in the Silver +hall the evening before, with the stormy sobs, lasting long after the +music had begun. How much responsibility had he, Barry Lincoln, for this +strange fat specimen of womanhood who wore pants and made appointments +over the telephone to meet men from the city agreeing to stay till all +hours of the night? Barry Lincoln’s code was a simple one, but it had an +old-fashioned twist to its ideas of womanhood. His mother was a sweet +faced, sad-eyed little widow who wore plain black dresses and did her +hair smoothly except for the satiny crinkle of it around the edges of +her forehead. She had given him the habit of a clean mind in the midst +of a wicked and perverse world, and he somehow patterned his ideas of +Girl and what she should be on a picture of his mother taken just before +she was married, when the light of joy was in her face and her eyes were +like reflections of the kingdom of heaven. Barry knew a whole lot more +about the world than his mother had ever told him, but he had kept his +clean habit of mind, and any deviation from it on the part of a woman, +especially a young woman, gave him always a feeling of nausea. However, +this was something no one would ever have guessed. Barry was one who +told not his thoughts among men. + +So, now, when he saw this poor little daughter of Eve taking her way +toward the path of temptation he was not interested. But the memory of a +haunted look in her father’s eyes the night before and the good +comradeship he had offered on the evening of the fire, together with the +lingering fragrance of cookies imbibed now laid upon Barry’s conscience +a duty toward his fellowman. If this girl was really going on an +unlawful holiday which might bring pain and shame to his friend, ought +he not in all loyalty to that friend to do something about it? + +Out of the tail of his eye he watched the scarlet flash as it followed +along the line of the road, crossed the bridge, left the road and crept +up the hill toward the woods. He sat down on the doorstep and kept Sam’s +back to the hillside until the scarlet hat and the dark cloak +disappeared into the woods, and only glimmered unnoticeably among the +young leaves as it went farther and farther away from the road. At last +his mind was made up. + +“Doggone it, Sam, now that hand’s goin’ to be no good today. Wha’d I +have to pound that for? Clumsy! Say, Sam, les finish this t’morra. +What’d’ya say we take a day off and go see if we can find Beazley? He +ought to be back home from his aunt’s by this time and it isn’t much of +a run over to the Corners. Say, you go get the roadster and run her over +to the Pike, an’ I’ll skip across to the creek where I was yesterday +morning and see if I can find my knife. I’ll meet you up by the old camp +entrance in about fifteen minutes. But if it’s half an hour or longer +you stick, for I’ll be there! Beat it now, and don’t talk, Sam. Remember +to keep yer mouth shut!” + +Sam hurried away with a light of eagerness in his eyes and Barry arose +and took long strides across the fields toward a spot in the landscape a +quarter of a mile to the north of where Athalie had entered the woods. +As he disappeared among the undergrowth he cast a speculative eye to the +distant road, but no one was to be seen as yet. + +Now the “roadster” above-mentioned was as much a part of Barry Lincoln’s +existence as his dog or his fishing rod or anything but his mother. It +was called the “roadster” by courtesy because it could get over the road +so rapidly, but there was nothing about it that would have suggested +that name in the modern acceptation of the term. It was ancient and worn +and stripped of everything that it could be stripped of and be. It +consisted merely of its throbbing loyal heart, its four wheels, and +enough timber and metal to keep them from flying apart when they went +catapulting through space. However Barry and whomever he elected to take +with him as a companion managed to stick on and always come home alive +was a continual wonder in Silver Sands. People told Mrs. Lincoln that +they didn’t see how she stood it having her son go off in that awful +thing, that it wasn’t safe and it wasn’t Christian, and he always looked +as if he was going to destruction and was glad of it, that they should +think it would affect his morality, a boy like that to own an infernal +machine. He was in daily danger of becoming a murderer! + +And besides, how could they _afford_ to keep it! + +When they twisted on that prying look and said that about affording—it +was usually the people for whom she did plain sewing that said +that—Barry’s mother always crinkled up her lips into a smile that let +little gold lights into her brown eyes and made her look like Barry, and +answered always quite pleasantly: + +“Oh, the old roadster is one of the family. We couldn’t live without +that. Barry never has killed anybody yet. I hope he never will.” And she +never even reminded them how he had saved a girl’s life once with it, +running after a machine that had got out of her control, nor how he +rushed Tad Moffat to the hospital in the city in time to save his hand, +the time he got it caught in the reaper. + +But if you had asked the boys of the town about the old roadster they +would have told you that Barry made it “out of pieces of nothin’ off the +junk heap behind the garage” and that its chief characteristic was that +it could “go like the devil.” + +It was this same go-devil that Sam climbed into, as it stood waiting +under its oilcloth lean-to beside the Lincoln cottage, and presently +shot out of the yard and around the Creek road toward the Pike, a proud +lad that Barry had selected him to run his car. + +Barry himself had rustled across the creek by a route well known to +himself, and stolen up to a favorite rendezvous of his own near an old +tree under which he often sat by the hour fishing, looking down from his +perch on a rock into the limpid stream below, or swinging up in the +trusty branches above, from limb to limb till he reached a point where +all the woods was an open book and himself enveloped in foliage. + +It was to this point of vantage that he now hastened, silently, +stealthily, as only such as he knew how to go. The tree was the tallest +in all the region round about. Looking east from its height he could see +the Flats of Frogtown with the gleaming water and Silver Sands shining +in the late afternoon sun. Between him and the Flats wound the smooth +white ribbon of a road, and far as he could see a black speck sped like +a spider down its thread. He watched it an instant and then his eyes +scanned the hillside below him, down through the trees. Yes, there was a +gleam of scarlet. Her hat. She had thrown it on the ground and was +sitting on the log. Her scarlet frock was spread about her radiantly +like a splash of vermilion in the spring newness of green. She seemed +like some great scarlet tanager waiting for its mate. Yet when she +lifted her face to look up at the strangeness of her surroundings, her +bare neck and arms, her painted lips and pencilled brows, the white, +white whiteness of her face seemed out of place there in the holy quiet +of nature’s temple, a parody on a living soul, stark and shameless in a +setting of God’s things as they are. Something of this thought perhaps +entered the boy’s mind as he saw her first, half startled to realize how +near he was to her trysting place, half tempted to slide quietly down +and slip away before she discovered him. + +Yet her waiting, listening attitude held him. She was evidently +expecting someone. If the guy she had phoned up should turn out to be an +all-right fellow, why then he would just make a quiet getaway and join +Sam, and no one the wiser. If, on the other hand, he should turn out to +be one of these fresh rotters from the city he could let him know where +to get off and see that no harm came to that silly little simp down +there, just for the sake of her father who was a good old scout. + +Presently Barry turned his eyes westward and noted the “roadster” +darting along like a small black bug as if it had the speed of a +thousand-legger. He watched it to the Pike, and knew when it passed +behind the old red barn that Sam would be waiting there for him should +it be ten minutes hence or ten hours. Then he glanced to the south and +saw the other car, coming at full speed down toward the bridge. Now, if +he was right this would be his city man. There were two other cars +coming, Eli Ward’s old gray limousine that he bought for two hundred and +fifty dollars and fixed up himself, and the grocery delivery, speeding +recklessly back from the afternoon rounds. But this was a strange car he +saw at a glance, and presently it came to a halt, just below the group +of chestnut trees, and a head came out and looked around. The car jerked +on a few feet farther and the man got out, looking around him +uncertainly. He measured the distance from the bridge with his eye and +began an ascent at random, looking this way and that, furtively. As he +came on there were places where the branches were thin and his face was +in full view. Barry studied him curiously. He was tall and thick set, +with a heavy jowl and a tiny black moustache over his full red lips. He +had taken off his hat and was mopping his face. The climb seemed to be +hard on him. As he looked up once the boy was astonished to see that he +was not young and that there were bags under his eyes, puffy places that +belonged to a high liver. + +“He’s old enough to be her grandfather!” thought Barry disgustedly, +“what a doggone little fool!” + +Athalie arose and poised on the log with outspread arms, and the man +cautiously approached, a hungry bestial glint in his eye that the boy in +the tree resented. + +“He’s rotten!” said the boy to himself. “Gosh! what’ll I do about this? +Her father oughtta keep her in! Gee!” + +The man was upbraiding Athalie for coming in such a noticeable dress. +“Are you sure nobody saw you come?” he asked her in a surly tone +smoothing the plumpness of her bare arms with his well groomed hand as +he talked. “It won’t do to have your dad get onto us,” he added, “you’ve +got to be careful you know.” + +Athalie pouted, and the man talked to her in a low rumble. Barry could +not hear many words. He wished he were well out of that tree and back +making a chicken run. He wished he had never gone to that fire in +Frogtown nor met the new Silver man, nor taken his old worms to him. +Heck! What a mess! What did folks want to be fools for? + +The word “divorce” floated up once, and then something about the state +line. He heard Athalie protest that she must go home and get on a white +dress, but the man insisted that he could not wait, it was now or never. +What on earth did it all mean? The state line was miles to the south. +Premonition filled his breast. That man certainly was a rotter. He +wished he could get down and punch his head, but it didn’t seem to be +advisable at the moment. He didn’t know enough about things to +interfere. Maybe the man was just wanting to take her back to her +mother. Her mother was divorced from her father. _Sure_, that was it. +Some conspiracy to get her away to her mother again. Well, why worry? +Wouldn’t that be a good thing for Mr. Greeves? From all he had heard the +night before, and all the gossip that had been going around the town +that day, he would not expect his new friend to be deeply grieved at his +daughter’s disappearance. And yet—he didn’t like that man’s face! Of +course he might be her uncle or something come after her. But anyhow, he +didn’t like the way the man felt of her wrist. It wasn’t nice. Gosh, she +was just a kid! Just a foolish little kid. She was too fat of course. +She’d been eating too much candy and soda water. If she’d only get into +condition, and take a little training she’d be all right. Gosh! He’d +like to punch that man’s head even if he _was_ her uncle! + +While he was thinking these things the two below him suddenly got up and +began to move down toward the road. The man made the girl put on her +cloak and turn the white fur inside out of sight. He made her hold up +her scarlet dress so it wouldn’t show below the black, and tuck her red +hat under the cloak, and then he pointed down the road to where a clump +of bushes were embowered with wild honeysuckle, close to the roadside +making a complete refuge, and the girl hurried off and crept under it. +The man waited, hidden in the grove till the bread wagon passed by, and +then went down to where he had parked his car. + +A few rods up the hill in a shelter of laurel bushes a tramp looked out +with greedy eyes like an old bird of prey and watched the girl. + +Barry waited only long enough to see the man turn about, drive to the +honeysuckle harbor and stop. Then he began quickly to slide down the +tree. As he reached the ground he heard the purr of the engine starting +again, and his feet hardly touched the sod as he sprang away along the +ridge above the creek to where a log spanned the water, across like a +bird in flight, and up the opposite bank he ran. Now this field, and the +roadster waited for him. + +“Over!” he shouted to Sam as he came panting up the hill and vaulted the +fence, “we gotta hurry! Took me longer’n I expected.” + +“Got’cher knife?” queried Sam as he moved over and gave Barry the wheel. + +“Yep,” said Barry pulling his knife out of his pocket for a brief +glimpse and started his engine. + +“Say, which way you going, Blink? You don’t wantta turn round. I turned +here a purpose. You said you were going after Beazley.” + +“That’s all right, Sam. We gotta make the state line now before another +guy gets there. You sit tight.” + +Sam perceived that Blink had had one of his inspirations. This was an +expedition! He settled his lank length on the airy structure of his seat +and prepared to enjoy himself. Sam had pale blue eyes under golden +lashes, carroty straight hair that stuck up like bristles, a gaunt +mouth, and was peppered with freckles. He remembered contentedly that +his mother was making apple dumplings for supper when he went in for the +arnica. He glanced at Blink’s hand and noticed that the rag had +disappeared. A smudge of blood on the finger was all that remained of +the accident. + +“Have any trouble findin’ yer knife, Blink?” + +“Nope.” + +The roadster was going like a bullet through the air now, its four +wheels scarcely seemed to travel the earth. They had rounded the top of +the hill and curved down into the lower thoroughfare. Far ahead on the +road another car like a speck appeared, and disappeared. Barry eyed it +steadily as he shot ahead, the speck in the distance growing visibly +larger mile by mile. He let the roadster out a trifle more and watched +the distance grimly. Was this his man? He didn’t want to waste time. + +Sam pulled his hat over his eyes and flipped up his collar with a lank +hand. His teeth were chattering. + +“Gee! Blink, this is—grrr-reat!” he gulped and held on tight, a trifle +pale under the freckles. + +Barry shot ahead silently. Was that a glint of scarlet fluttering out +the side of the car, or only a budded maple branch by the road? + +At last they were within hailing distance and Barry let down his speed a +trifle. He didn’t want to pass before the crossroad, now half a mile +ahead. Strange he saw no sign of anyone on the back seat of that car, +and only one head appeared at the front. If that was his man what had he +done with the girl? If it wasn’t his man it was a pity to waste any more +time and lose the trail. He began to cast about in his mind where his +quarry could have gone if this was not the right car and to plan for +instant action in case he found out his mistake. + +The car ahead did not turn off at the crossroads and three minutes later +Barry shot ahead. As he passed the other car he was sure he caught a +glimpse of something red like a big ball suddenly dropping down out of +sight in the back seat. + +“Lamp that car, Sam!” he ordered grimly. + +Sam fixed his pale eye on a bit of mirror fastened in midair over the +engine, but the car seemed to be coming on steadily enough. + +“Watch if there’s more than one person in it.” + +Sam shifted the gum between his teeth and gave himself to more +concentrated effort. + +“Thought I saw something move in the back seat,” he said at length. +“There it went again. Mightta ben mistaken though.” + +Barry thought he saw it too. He suddenly ground his brakes on and sprang +off to kneel before his engine. + +“Nut loose,” he explained to the astonished Sam who had been nearly +precipitated to the ground by the sudden halt. He wasn’t quite sure +which car Blink meant “the nut” travelled in. + +Barry’s car was well into the road. A passing vehicle must turn out if +it went by. Barry reclined by a wheel, apparently deeply absorbed. At +the very instant however, when the other car was about to curve by him, +he was as by a miracle upright on his feet in the middle of the +remaining road space, with one arm raised in distress. The oncoming +driver had perforce to stop or submit to being a murderer. As the man +ground on his brakes and jerked to a violent stop he let out an ugly +oath, but Barry unconcerned asked nonchalantly: + +“Len’ me a wrench?” + +“No!” said the man shortly, “mine’s lost! Get out of my way!” + +Barry lifted his cap from his curls politely and grinned. + +“Thank you!” he said with his eye on the tonneau, and stepped out of the +way. The car shot ahead, but Barry had seen what he was after, a big +black eye peering up over the door of the car, surmounted by a +travelling robe that seemed exceedingly alive. A flash of a white arm +and a dash of scarlet showed against the darkness of the tonneau as the +car swept by, and Barry was satisfied. He was on the right track. + +“What’s eatin’ you, Barry? The wrench’s in its place under the cushion.” +Sam eyed him puzzled. It wasn’t like Barry to forget anything. + +“Oh, is it?” said Barry innocently, swinging up on his minute cushion, +“pile in, boy, we gotta hurry.” + +Sam scrambled back into place again as the roadster leapt forward. The +other car was some distance ahead now. Barry seemed to have lost +interest in it. Sam couldn’t make him out. Somehow Sam never could quite +make out Barry. He said so to the boys once and Ben Holden told him it +was because he hadn’t any sense of humor, but that troubled Sam still +more, because what did a sense of humor have to do with understanding a +person who was perfectly grave and serious? + +Whenever they came near a crossroad or a village, Barry speeded up. Sam +kept hoping he would stop and buy something to eat. He kept remembering +those apple dumplings. The sun was getting lower and lower. A dank +little breath swept up from the valley, full of sleepy violets and +drowsy bees humming. The birds were calling good night. Sam’s legs were +long for the space allowed on the roadster. He grew uneasy. + +“Say, what time do you expect to get home for supper?” he questioned, +shifting a leg, and putting his hand under his knee surreptitiously to +ease the stiffness. + +“Don’t expect!” said Barry crisply, “if you do you might get +disappointed. Hungry, Sam? Let you out on the road anywhere you say, if +you like.” + +“Oh, no,” said Sam detecting displeasure in his idol’s voice, “oh, no, +no, I’m just enjoying this, havin’ the time of my young life. Gee, it’s +great. Only I was wondering what your plans were?” + +“That depends,” said Barry, and said no more. With shut lips the two +whizzed through the county, watching a little black speck ahead that +grew dimmer and dimmer as the light of the sun failed. + +Then suddenly it seemed quite dark. The other car was only a place of +blackness in the darkness, one could not be sure if it were there or +only had been. There were lights ahead. They were nearing a town. The +roadster reached the top of a hill leading down into the main street +among dwellings. A little trolley like a toy plied to and fro with +childish bells and lights. A church bell rang with a sweet wholesome +call to prayer. Cottages appeared. A child under a light with a green +porcelain shade looking at a book. A family in the dining room eating +their supper. Pleasant thought. Dumplings, apple dumplings with plenty +of goo! Ummmmm! Sam looked wistfully back. + +The other car at the foot of the hill turning into the main street, +stopped for an instant by the trolley. Barry made time and arrived in +its immediate vicinity as it started on again. Barry slowed up. He let +several cars and trucks and foot passengers get between him and the open +road. Sam eyed him wonderingly. The other car had gone on. Sam hadn’t +noticed it particularly. + +Barry saw it slow up in front of a drug store, and immediately he ran +his car down a side street by the blank side of a real estate office +closed for the night, and sprang out. + +“Watch me, Sam! keep yer eyes peeled,” he said to his astonished vassal. +“If I don’t come back soon you folla. I gotta get that car and its +contents back to Silver Sands t’night! See? But mind you keep yer mouth +shut.” + +He was gone in the darkness, and Sam, whirling dazedly round on his +unsteady seat saw him vanishing round the car that was parked in front +of the drug store. An instant more and he heard the door on the driving +side slam and the engine begin to purr. + +“By gosh!” said Sam and unfolded himself to his full height on the curb +stone. “He’s a nut if there ever was one,” said Sam to the roadster +aloud. + +The other car was moving! It was passing out of sight! Blink was nowhere +to be seen. Sam must move too if he were not to lose him. Sam clambered +to his task with sudden panic and threw in the clutch. + +“By gosh!” he ejaculated, but the roadster was already going so fast +that his words fell backward on the real estate curb unheard in the +darkness. Sam had already assumed his new importance. Apple dumplings +were forgotten for the time. He had to get that roadster home or he’d +hear about it all the rest of his mortal days. Besides he knew his +mother would keep plenty of dumplings warm for him on the back of the +stove against his coming. + +He made out to see a dim outline of a car in the darkness ahead and +followed, being mildly aware of an excited man on the pavement behind +him shouting and waving his arms. + + + + + XIX + + +Anne Truesdale, bringing another plate of angel cake that had been put +aside for “the master” sighted the minister’s car through the front +window, and urging the plate upon Roberta hastened to the door to meet +them. + +It was Greeves who was walking ahead, and she put up her hands as if in +prayer and almost curtsied in her agony, her words tumbling out in true +old country style: + +“Oh, master Pat, I’d not be troublin’ ye, but the young ladies is in +there and ye’ll have to tell me what ye want done. I’ve fed ’em an’ fed +’em, everything there is left in the house, tryin’ to keep ’em from +realizin’ they’ve been insulted, an’ now you’ll just have to do +something about it. It’ll be a scandal in the neighborhood in five +minutes after I let them be going, for Emily Bragg has an awful tongue +in her head an’ she lives next door to Arden Philips’ wife, her that was +Ruby Hamilton ye ken.” + +“Why, Anne, what’s the matter? Try not to be excited. Tell me what has +happened? Who is in the house?” + +“It’s the young ladies, the daughters of yer uncle’s old friends, Mary +Truman next door, and Roberta Moffat and them, six of them, nice girls +as ever was, come to call on your daughters. And Miss Athalie first kept +them waitin’ an’ then she come down all in a red party dress with that +bare a neck, and no sleeves at all, and a little red hat like a red hen +atop her, and them monstrous cherries a dangling—” + +Anne was almost sobbing as she talked, and was unaware that Bannard and +Silver had come up and were standing behind her. + +“Never mind, Anne,” said Greeves soothingly, “it can’t be so very bad. +You say they’re only little girls.” + +“’Igh-school girls, sir, an’ comin’ on young ladies. Oh, but you don’t +know sir, it was werry bad, werry bad indeed, sir. She come in an’ +called herself Miss Greeves, and she offered them her smoking box, an’ +then she orders tea an’ walks out that imperious you’d think she was a +queen, sayin’ as how ’twas late an’ she had a engagement to go to the +city an’ see a carabay on a roof, sir, whatever that may be, sir. An’ +she’s gone—an’ I don’ know what to do with ’em. It’ll be all over town +before the night, master Pat—!” + +“Is there somebody in there to call, did you say, Mrs. Truesdale?” +interrupted Silver suddenly. “Why I’ll go right in!” + +Silver ran up the steps and into the hall, flinging off her hat in her +transit and dropping it on the hall console, tossing her gloves after +it. She entered the drawing room where the embarrassed girls were +huddled together, trying to get rid of napkins, eating furtive pieces of +cake from the plate on the edge of the tea cart, and planning a hasty +exit before any more stupefying and insulting daughters were presented +to their indignant gaze. + +“Oh, how lovely of you all to run over so soon!” exclaimed Silver +ruffling up her hair with a merry attempt at smoothing it, “now tell me +who you are. I’m Silver Greeves, I suppose you know—or perhaps you +don’t. Call me Silver please, I’ll feel more at home. And what’s your +name? Mary Truman? Oh, you live next door don’t you? Father was telling +me about you this morning at breakfast. We’ll be friends, won’t we? Now +you introduce the rest.” + +She had them all chattering together in a moment more and they hadn’t an +idea she was a day older than any of them. She was small and slender, +and had a smile like sunshine. They liked her at once and forgot their +grievances. They began to tell her as one girl about their school, and +their Christian Endeavor, and their fudge party, and she entered into it +all eagerly. Christian Endeavor? Of course she would join. She had been +a Christian Endeavorer at home. Fudge? She loved it. Of course she would +come! + +Bannard stood for a moment in the doorway where he had followed to see +if he could help out in the trying situation which he had easily sensed +from the few words he had caught of Anne’s excited recital, and behold, +this wonderful little girl had everything in the hollow of her hand. +Then one of the girls looked up, Emily Bragg it was, and giggled. + +“Oh, and there’s Mr. Bannard! Won’t you come to the party too? You like +fudge, don’t you?” + +“Indeed I do, and indeed I will,” said Bannard eagerly. “I was wishing +you would ask me only I wasn’t sure whether the boys were invited or +not.” + +“Oh, yes, the boys are invited,” beamed Mary Truman, “they don’t know it +yet but I’m going to call them up on the phone. Say, Mr. Bannard will +you see Barry Lincoln? I’d like to ask him, but they haven’t any phone.” + +“Yes, I’ll tell Barry,” promised the minister, and then Anne Truesdale +with suspiciously red eyes bustled in and began pouring tea for the +minister and Greeves. Silver jumped up and taking her father’s arm drew +him around the group making him acquainted with each one, and the girls +marvelled that she remembered their names so well. When they finally +broke up and started home to get ready for their fudge party Silver +walked with them down to the gate an arm around Mary and Roberta, her +head turned backward to smile over her shoulder at the other three who +were fairly tied in a knot to get closer to her, and so they took their +adoring leave at the front gate to the great edification of the +Vandemeeters, who felt that their heads were fairly reeling with the +exciting program of the day. + +“I declare, if this goes on,” said mother mopping her weary brow with +her apron, “I sha’n’t get half my work done. I do hope things will +settle down pretty soon.” + +Over at the Silver mansion Anne Truesdale was gathering the scattered +tea things, and trying to plan for the evening meal which had been +robbed of several articles of its menu. Greeves stood in the front hall +talking with Bannard, and watching Silver come brightly up the path, +both men thinking how wonderfully she had turned the situation. + +“You have no cause to worry about _her_,” said Bannard with a touch of +reverence in his tone. + +“I should say not,” said Greeves. “She’s—she’s—like her mother!” + +“Didn’t I tell you,” said Bannard with a twinkle in his eye, “that +tomorrow about this time you’d begin to see God’s way taking shape?” + +Greeves’ face turned sharply toward him a heavy shadow crossing his +brow. + +“Don’t talk to me about God’s way!” he said harshly, “I’ve seen too much +of that. What about my other girl?” and a spasm of anger went like white +lightning over his features. + +“That will work out too,” said Bannard reverently. “Give God His way and +see.” + +“Don’t!” said Greeves sharply. + +“What about that man down at the Flats, that father! I can’t get him out +of my head Bannard. That’s cruelty to make that little one suffer so. +It’s cruelty to take her away from a father and mother like that. She +isn’t going to live is she?” + +“She has a chance, the doctor says. It depends a lot upon the nursing. +The father and mother are wonders, but they don’t know how.” + +“Do you know of a trained nurse you can get, Bannard? I’d gladly pay for +one! Couldn’t we telephone to the city for one? Two if necessary. I’d +like to see that child saved. Bannard if there’s anything that money can +do you’ll let me help out? I’d like to make that much amends for the +mess I’ve made of my life.” + +Bannard cast him a quick appreciative look. + +“Thank you,” he said, “that means a lot. There’ll be plenty of chances +for that sort of thing. But in this case it isn’t so much a question of +money as love. It would be hard to find a regular trained nurse that +would fit into that household. You saw how primitive everything was. It +would have to be somebody who could love them to make the service +possible. I’m going down now for Mrs. Lincoln. I think she’ll spend the +night there. She’s done such things before. She knows how to love.” + +After Bannard was gone a shadow of care seemed to drop upon Greeves’ +face even while he was closing the front door, as he remembered his +younger daughter. Now his was the disagreeable task of finding out all +about what she had done and dealing with her. How sickening the thought! +All the advantage he had gained, or thought he had gained in the morning +would be gone with the first word. His soul shrank from the contest. He +was angry and disheartened. How was he to reach her and make her +understand, that at least she must refrain from outward disrespect to +him and his family or she could not remain under his roof? What was the +secret of her strange nature that made her willing to do these +astonishing things? He hurried back to the drawing room where he could +hear Anne’s excited voice relating over again to Silver the chief points +of Athalie’s offense. He could see how to Anne, what had been done was +almost the unpardonable sin. To keep the honor and respect of the +village was certainly among the first articles of Anne’s creed. With a +deep sigh he pushed back the curtain and listened. + +“I wouldn’t bother about it, Anne,” Silver was saying, “Athalie probably +hasn’t an idea how disagreeable she appeared. She is in a different +atmosphere from any she has ever been in before, and it isn’t really her +fault, perhaps, that she acts so. I don’t think the girls will say much +about it. We are going over next door tonight, and we’ll just have a +good time and make them forget about the other. After a little when +Athalie gets acquainted and gets to know the ways of Silver Sands she +will want to make them like her, I’m sure she will. Just now she’s +rather strange and upset in all her ideas—” + +“That’s all very well, Silver,” put in the father, “but Athalie can’t +publicly disgrace us. And she has openly disobeyed me it seems about the +cigarettes. I can’t have that—in this house!” + +“She’s been brought up to see it I suppose—” + +“Oh—yes!” said her father with a look of remembrance sweeping over his +face—“of course she’s seen it every day. It’s her standard. But she’s +got to learn that it isn’t mine!” + +“When she learns to love you, father, maybe that will make a +difference,” suggested Silver shyly. + +The father’s face was hard. + +“I doubt if she knows how to love anyone but herself,” he said bitterly, +“it was the way with her mother. Anne, will you tell Miss Athalie to +come down at once to the library?” + +Anne was mopping up her eyes. She seemed to take Athalie’s misdeeds as a +personal offense. Sacredly all these years she had guarded the honor of +the family, and now to have it trampled under foot by an alien in one +short afternoon was too much. Anne could not put it easily aside. It was +an outrage, like having bad boys tear up the tulip beds after Joe had +newly trimmed them, or scarring the family Bible. Anne could not get +over it. She came sniffing back from the pantry door with a handful of +soiled dishes and her cheeks red and angry looking. When she was excited +her cheeks always turned fire red. + +“But she’s not here!” she affirmed indignantly, “didn’t I tell ye she’s +away down the street like a big red peacock. I would have stopped her if +I could but she’ll not mind the likes of me.” + +“She went out?” queried Greeves startled, “I didn’t understand you +before. I thought you said she went up to her room. Are you quite sure? +Perhaps she’s returned and slipped up the back way.” + +“I’m that sure, but I’ll go see, master Pat,” sniffed Anne, and hurried +up the stairs. + +In a moment she was back again. + +“She’s not up stairs, master Pat. And you should see her room! It’s like +a hurricane. There’s frocks and shoes just where she’s dropped them, and +stockings all over the place. It’s scandalous. If there should happen a +fire—” + +But Greeves was already on his way to the front door. + +“I’ll go out and find her,” he said in a low tone to Silver, caught up +his hat from the rack and was gone. + +An hour later he came back with an anxious look upon his face. + +“Is she back yet?” he asked Silver who had been hovering from window to +window trying to think of a way out of the dilemma for her father, +wondering if perhaps Athalie hadn’t run away back to her mother, +considering once more whether she ought not to go away herself and so +remove one stumbling block from this wayward sister’s path. + +“I met a woman—she lives next door—Weldon, Lizzie Weldon I think her +name is. She said she saw Athalie go down the street toward the post +office. She was standing at the gate she said and watched her out of +sight. She’s one of those hawks who knows everybody’s business. I used +to hate her when I was a boy. She evidently wanted to find out where +Athalie had gone. It isn’t hell enough to have these things happening +but we have to have a lot of vultures around picking at the bones!” + +“Well, never mind, father. I wouldn’t feel too bad about it. It isn’t +your fault, and things’ll come right after a while—” + +“So you believe that too!” he said eyeing her keenly, “well, I must say +I don’t. They’ve never come right for me yet. The thing I’m afraid of is +they may confuse you with Athalie. I wouldn’t have a breath of scandal +touch you, my Silver-Alice.” He came and touched his lips tenderly to +her forehead. She lifted clear eyes to meet his look. + +“Why, I wouldn’t be afraid of that, father. It isn’t possible.” + +“What makes you so sure?” he asked, “you don’t know what old carrion +crows inhabit a village like this, till they once get scent of a bit of +scandal. Why even really good women, women who live otherwise a right +life, will snatch up such a thing and rush about carrying it from house +to house till there isn’t a tatter left of somebody’s reputation.” + +Silver still looked untroubled, and shook her head. + +“It can’t be,” she insisted, “there’s a promise, don’t you know? Listen! +‘No weapon that is formed against thee shall prosper; and every tongue +that shall rise against thee in judgment thou shalt condemn. This is the +heritage of the servants of the Lord.’” + +He looked at her as a man looks at a beloved woman who has just uttered +some sweet fallacy concerning which he does not wish to undeceive her. +His eyes grew tender with admiration and yearning. + +“You are like your mother,” he said with a strange embarrassment in his +voice. “If only—” and then he stalked to the window and stood looking +out for a long, long time. + +Dinner was late that night while Molly made short cake for the +strawberries, but when they sat down Athalie had not yet arrived. + +“It’s very strange!” said Greeves looking at his watch anxiously, and he +went himself to Athalie’s door and switched on the light to make sure +she was not hidden somewhere to evade them all. + +He made Anne tell over again what she had heard. + +“She said it would be that late,” insisted Anne, “and she was going to +the roof garden and a carabay! I’m sure that was what she said, +_carabay_!” + +Greeves looked thoughtful. What was that Athalie had said about somebody +in the city bringing her out the first day? Giving her presents, going +to give her a theatre party? Surely the child couldn’t have gone in town +to meet him without leaving any word. It was absurd. Nevertheless he +kept bringing out his watch and looking at it nervously. + +Silver too, seemed worried. + +“Perhaps we better not go to that little affair tonight, father, unless +Athalie comes in before it is time for us to start.” + +“No, that would be foolish,” he said. “Of course you must go. We will +both go. Truman was an old friend of mine. I’d like to see him. She will +come in before long of course. She is doubtless hiding not far away just +for a freak. She is a strange child. I do not understand her.” + +But at eight o’clock Athalie had not arrived. + +“There is no use fretting over it,” said her father as he walked +restlessly up and down, realizing that he was more angry with her than +worried. Why should he worry about a child whom he neither wanted nor +loved? And yet for that very reason something in him rose and prodded +his conscience. Why didn’t he care? Why hadn’t he looked out from her +birth that she was the kind of a child for whom he would have to care? + +He went to the telephone and called up Bannard. + +“That you, Bannard? Say, that strange child of mine is still at large. +Have you any way of finding out whether she took a train to town this +afternoon, without exciting interest on the part of the whole +countryside? Good. I thought you could. I suppose it is foolish to +worry. She certainly seems able to look after herself, but somehow I +feel responsible. Darned responsible! Thanks. Yes, we’re going over. See +you in a few minutes.” + +Greeves and his daughter went to the neighbor’s, and Bannard went out to +find Barry, but Barry was not to be found. His mother was gone to the +Flats for the night to care for the Italian baby, and there was no sign +that Barry had been home at all. Bannard sauntered down to the station +and enquired of the agent who was just closing up, whether he could +remember if Mr. Perry went to the city on the four o’clock train, and +the agent said no, there hadn’t a soul gone on that train. It was late +and he had to hang around waiting to give the engineer a message. There +never was much travel in the afternoon—only a man and a boy took the +six o’clock train and the seven didn’t even stop. It only stopped in +Silver Sands for flagging anyway unless there was somebody to get off. + +He sauntered into the drug store and bought a tooth brush taking plenty +of time in the selection, and the soda clerk was relating a tale about +the “jane who took two chocolate fizzes and a banana split that +afternoon. Some red bird!” + +He dropped in at the fire house to ask the chief if the first of the +month would suit the fire company to have their annual service in the +church, and keeping his ears open, gathered another straw or two more of +evidence. + +“An ankle like a square piano!” Uri Weldon was saying with his coarse +laugh. + +“I wonder she didn’t scare the birds!” said another. “Some bathin’ suit +fer a country walk!” Then the front legs of the respective chairs came +down reluctantly and the men straightened up to greet Bannard gravely. +Everybody liked Bannard. There was nowhere in the town he might not go, +nowhere that he would be unwelcome. Young though he was he had that +Pauline trait of being all things to all men, though it must be owned +that the men at the fire house were all just a trifle afraid every time +he came that he was somehow going to save some of them, and take them +away from all that life held dear. They had no doubt in their minds but +that he could “save” them if he once got them in his clutches. + +Slowly progressing up the street, stopping at Mrs. Hoskins to enquire if +her nephew in the city had received the letter of introduction he had +procured for him he learned incidentally as he had thought he would, +that Athalie Greeves had passed there that afternoon about half past +four “in a scandalous rig,” had gone to the drug store “and it’s the +second time, Mr. Bannard, the second time in two days, and all those +young boys always hanging around the drug store;” had gone on from the +drug store down the village street as far as she could see from the gate +and passed out of sight without returning. + +“And I threw my apern over my head and ran out to look,” added the good +woman, showing that she always did her duty by whoever passed, that +nothing should be missing out of the general report of the day. + +“And I think her father ought to look after her better’n that, don’t you +Mr. Bannard? A young girl like that! And a stranger in the town. Folks +might misunderstand her. Don’t you think it’s queer we never heard that +he had any daughters before?” + +Bannard finally reached Truman’s, but he had little to tell Greeves +about his daughter except that she had not gone on either train to the +city, and that she had been seen walking down the village street, and +had bought a soda at the drug store. + +“I wouldn’t be in the least alarmed, though,” he added in a low tone, +“there really isn’t anything much can happen in the town. They’re a +friendly lot, even the pryingest of them. She’ll probably turn up at +home before long.” + +Just at that moment the dining room door opened and in came the next act +of the charade that was in progress, led by Silver who seemed to be the +prime mover in every feature of the evening. The girls simply surrounded +her and adored her from the start. Bannard watched her and his eyes lit +up with that strange wonder he had felt when first he saw her the day +before. A wonderful girl! A real unspoiled girl in the modern world. He +thought of how she had gone into that sorrowing home in the afternoon +and entered into the need; and now here she was the centre of all this +merriment, and just as much at home, and just as self forgetful. + +It was remarkable that part she was taking in the act, playing her +delicate features into the contortion of a haughty woman of the world. +She was talented! But of course she would be. With such a father! And +that spirituelle look must have come from the mother. He remembered the +exquisite painted face. + +Then eager voices claimed him to come and join the group for the next +word and he was drawn away to the other room. + +“Oh, have you heard how the baby is?” a low vibrant voice asked as he +passed her in the hall. + +So she hadn’t forgotten! She was in all this, a part of it, but she had +thoughts for the anxious home. + +“She is holding her own,” he said, “I took Barry’s mother down there a +little while ago. She will stay all night. You don’t know Barry’s mother +yet. She is a strong arm to lean upon, a cool hand on a fevered brow. +She knows how to do things without seeming to, and she loves people.” + +“Oh, that is good!” said Silver, “tomorrow I will go and take her place +awhile if I may.” + +“It will not be necessary,” he said looking his thanks, “but—you may if +your father does not object.” + +“Object?” she looked surprised. “Oh, he could not object to that. Of +course I will go.” + +The company clamored for Silver and she was swept laughingly into the +other room, but the minister felt that somehow between them a bond had +been established that was very good to think upon. Only two days and he +felt this way about her! But she was an unusual girl. Then he heard her +ringing laugh, smiled into the eyes of the boys who were pummelling him +to tell them the best way to act the word “penitentiary,” and plunged +into the matter before him. + +At half past ten they all went home, most of the company being of high +school age and not allowed late hours. The half-past was a special +dispensation on account of its being Friday night and no lessons +tomorrow. The minister walked down the street with Greeves and his +daughter and stepped in a moment to learn if the prodigal had returned, +or if his further services as detective would be required. + +They found Anne Truesdale sitting in the dark drawing room watching the +street. She would not have owned to anybody, least of all her master, +that she was praying for “that huzzy” but she was. Somehow Anne’s sense +of justice wouldn’t allow her to let even a girl like that be wandering +alone in the world in the darkling night without even a prayer to guide +her. She deserved all she might get but oh, think of the disgrace of it +all in the town. Anne didn’t know that she really cared more for the +disgrace in the town than she did for the young girl’s soul in the dark. + +But there! See how all our motives are mixed! Anne was praying for her! +That was something gained. Anne had begun to feel her responsibility, +and leaven of that kind always works. It may take time on a cold day, +but it always works at last. + +When the three discovered that the missing one was still absent they +stood and looked at one another in dismay, with that helpless air that +always says: “What is there that I can do next?” + +Then sharply into the silence of their anxiety there rippled out the +insistent call of the telephone. + +Greeves hurried into the library to answer it, and the others stood +breathless, listening, to his voice. + +“Hello!” + +It was a man’s voice that answered: + +“I want to speak to Miss Athalie Greeves.” + +“Who _is_ this?” asked Athalie Greeves’ father sternly. + +“Well, who are _you_?” The voice was insolent. + +“I am Athalie’s father and I insist upon knowing to whom I am speaking.” + +“I’m one of her mother’s friends. You wouldn’t know me. Call Athalie. +She’ll tell you who I am. I want to speak to her!” + +“It will be necessary for you to explain to me first.” + +“Why? isn’t she there?” + +“What is your business with her, sir?” + +“Is she there or not?” said the ugly voice. + +“She is _not_,” said the father coldly. + +“Oh, well, I’ll call up again!” said the voice, and immediately the wire +was cut off. + +Patterson Greeves turned toward the two who stood in the doorway and +looked with a helpless dazed expression for a moment, then hung up his +receiver with a troubled air. + +“That is very strange!” he said. “Somehow I get the impression that that +man knew Athalie was away—or was trying to find out—” + +“It is strange,” said Bannard. He made no pretense of not having heard. +The voice on the telephone had been loud enough to be heard out in the +hall. “I wish Barry were here. I’ll go out and look for him. If she +isn’t heard from by the time I get back we’ll begin to do something. +Don’t get frightened. It’s probably only some school-girl prank. Barry +will very likely be able to find out where she has gone. He’s a regular +ferret. I never saw a boy like him.” + +Meantime Barry, out in the night, was having troubles of his own. + + + + + XX + + +When Barry Lincoln left Sam in the side street with the roadster and +darted across the trolley track and around the back of the stranger’s +car, the big man with the heavy moustache was visible in the brightly +lighted drug store talking with the clerk at the back of the store. He +was handing out some money and lighting a big black cigar at the taper +on the desk. + +Barry drew himself up for one glimpse and saw that the girl was now +seated in the front, left hand, away from the curb. + +He swept the street either way with a quick glance, saw no one coming in +his immediate vicinity, gave another glance to the man in the drug store +and made a dash for the door of the driver’s seat. + +Barry had grown up as it were in the garage, that is he had spent every +available minute there since he was a small child, hovering over every +car that came within its doorway, watching the men at work, as he grew +older, helping with the repairs himself, and finally becoming so expert +that they were always ready to give him a job on Saturdays and half +holidays, and often even sent for him to help them discover what made +the trouble in some refractory engine or carburetor. There was no car +rolling that Barry didn’t know by name and sight, and wasn’t able to +describe its characteristics and comparative worth. He was a judge of +cars as some men are a judge of their fellowmen. Also, he had a way with +cars. When he put his hand to a wheel it obeyed him. He was a perfect, +natural driver, knowing how to get the best out of every piece of +machinery. + +And now as he slid into the driver’s seat with the owner only a few feet +away, a strange unwarned girl beside him, a strange unfriendly town +around him, a dark unknown way ahead, it was not a strange unknown +mechanism to which he put his hand. He had known that car as a man +recognizes his friend even when he was up in the tree some hours before +and saw it coming down the road. + +The girl was evidently startled, but Barry, his face turned half away +from her, threw in the clutch and was off in a whirl. + +“Why Bobs! You scared me!” cried Athalie, “I didn’t see you come out, I +thought I was watching you light a cigar. It must have been another man +who looked just like you. Did you get the chocolates? Hand them over +quick! I’m simply dying of starvation.” + +Barry began to fumble in his pocket silently with one hand. He brought +out a mobile package, half a cake of milk chocolate and dropped it into +her lap. His eye was ahead. He had no time to waste. The owner of the +car would be out in a second and raise a rumpus. He whirled the first +corner he came to and fled down a dark side street, passed two blocks, a +third that went perceptibly down hill, and darted into an old covered +wooden bridge. + +It was pitch-dark in there save for their own lights. The noise of the +engine echoed and reverberated like an infernal machine. + +The girl was leaning forward looking at the package. An instant more and +they roared out of the bridge into the quiet starlight. + +“Why, Bobs! I think you’re horrid! Was that all you bought for me? And +it’s not even a whole cake!” She flung it disgustedly on the floor of +the car and looked up angrily. “Did you call that a _joke_?” she asked +with a curling lip, and then suddenly she saw his face, and was +transfixed with horror. For an instant she held her breath, her eyes +growing wider and wider with fright, then she let out one of the most +blood curdling screams Barry had ever heard. + +Just at that second there lumbered into view the lights of a big +gasoline truck that was hurrying to the end of its long day’s journey. +One instant they saw it, the next they were in its very embrace. Barry +curled out of the road just in time and back into it again, while +Athalie screamed some more. + +They shot into a black road overarched with tall forest trees. The smell +of the new earth leaped up to Barry’s taut senses with a soothing touch. +The road as far as his lights reached ahead was empty. His woodman’s +sense told him there was no one near. But how far in the night had that +scream reached? What straggler might have heard it and sent a warning? +There! She was beginning it again! He must stop it somehow. A sudden +thought came to him. He groped in the pocket of the door by his side. +There ought to be one there, in a car like this! A man of that sort +would carry one. Yes, there it was! His fingers grasped the cool metal, +found their way with confidence and drew it forth. + +“Bobs! Bobs!” screamed Athalie. The echoes rang through the woods on +either hand as they raced along. She was leaving the trail behind them +for any straggler to report their whereabouts. This must not go on. + +Suddenly the dull gleam of the revolver flashed in front of her face. + +“Cut that out!” said the boy sternly. + +Athalie opened her mouth to scream again and instead dropped her jaw +just as the scream was about to be uttered. She turned wide, horrified +eyes to her captor and sat white and still in her seat, cringing away +from the weapon. + +“Now,” said Barry, still holding the revolver in one hand, “you might as +well understand that you aren’t in any danger whatever if you keep your +mouth shut, but if you yodel again like that I’ll knock you cold. Do you +get me?” + +Athalie’s eyes acknowledged that she understood. She cringed still +farther away from the revolver and he lowered it, keeping it still in +his hand however. The woods flew by in one long sweet avenue of spring +night. Barry settled to his wheel, eyes to the front, with a mind to the +back, and a sort of sixth sense keeping tab on the girl by his side. He +could see that the revolver had frightened her terribly. Her face was +too much powdered to admit of its turning pale, but there was a sagging +droop about her lips and eyelids that betokened her whole spirit +stricken with fear. She gathered her cloak closer about her and +shivered. Her big, dark eyes never left his face except now and then to +glance fearfully out as if wondering what were the possibilities of +jumping overboard. Barry began to feel sorry for her. + +“Nothing but a little kid,” he said to himself, “A foolish little kid!” + +Two miles farther on they turned into the high road and Barry slowed +down a bit. There were two cars ahead, he could see their tail lights, +but nothing coming behind. He turned to the right in the general +direction of Silver Sands, and then looked at the girl. + +“You needn’t be afraid,” he said half contemptuously, half gently, “I’m +not going to hurt you.” + +“I’m not afraid,” said Athalie, some of the old spirit returning. + +“Oh!” said the boy. “All right! I thought you were!” They speeded on +again in silence. Presently Athalie spoke. Her voice showed returning +temper. + +“What are you going to do with me?” + +“Going to take you home to your father!” said Barry. + +The young woman sat up suddenly. This then was no highwayman. This was +some meddler in her business. He knew her father. He had somehow trailed +her and recognized her. She was furious. + +“But I don’t choose to go home,” she said indignantly. + +“That doesn’t cut any ice,” said Barry crisply. “You’re getting there +pretty fast all right.” + +Athalie turned on him angrily. + +“Look here,” she said fiercely, “I’m not going to stand this another +minute. Do you know what a terrible thing you’re doing? You’ll probably +be put in prison for life for it. But if you’ll turn right around now +and take me back to my friend I’ll tell him you just made a mistake. You +didn’t try to steal the car at all.” + +“Thank you,” said Barry a grim shadow of a smile flickering across his +face in the darkness, “I’m not worrying about that just now.” + +“But you’ve _got_ to take me back,” said Athalie, almost on the verge of +tears, “I’m on my way to be _married_!” + +“Not tonight!” said Barry grimly. + +“Well, I guess I’m not going to be stopped by a kid like you!” burst +forth Athalie. She suddenly rose with all her might and flung herself +upon the wheel, and Athalie had some weight and grip when she chose to +use them. + +Barry, utterly unprepared for this onslaught, ground on the brakes and +put forth all his strength, trying to keep the wavering car from +climbing a tree while he was bringing it to a standstill, but he managed +to keep his head. + +It was a sharp, brief struggle, for Athalie’s muscles were untrained, +and in a moment more Barry was holding her firmly with both hands and +she had ceased to struggle. He had not again brought the revolver into +play. He hated dramatic effects when physical force would do as well. + +But he could not stay there all night and hold her down. He cast about +for some way of making her fast. There was a handkerchief in his pocket. +He managed to get hold of it and crossing her hands bind them together. + +Her cloak had fallen off disclosing the flimsy dress and the long +fringed ends of a satin sash tied about her waist. He pulled at it and +found that it came loose. With this he bound her about across the +shoulders and down to the waist. + +“You’re cold!” he remarked as he saw her shiver, “and that flimsy coat +is no good. Here, put this sweater on.” + +He pulled off his own sweater and pulled it down over her head. She +started to scream again, but he put his hand over her mouth, and when +she was quiet remarked very gently: + +“I hate awfully to treat a girl this way, but I’ll have to gag you if +you try that line again,” and she knew by his tone that he meant it. “I +don’t think you’d like gagging.” + +Athalie began to cry. + +“I’m sorry,” said Barry remorsefully, “but you can’t be trusted.” + +He was down on his knees now fastening her ankles together with a bit of +old rope he had found in his pocket. + +“But I’m on my way to be _married_,” sobbed out the indignant child, +“you’re spoiling my _life_—” she was weeping uncontrollably now. + +“Excuse me,” he said quietly, “I guess I’ll have to use my neck tie for +a gag,” and he began unconcernedly to take off his necktie. “I can’t +have all this noise.” + +Athalie stopped short. + +“I won’t cry,” she said shortly, “but won’t you just listen to reason? +Would you like it if you were going to get married, to be interfered +with this way?” + +“Say kid,” he said gently, “you talk sense and I’ll help you. You know +you aren’t old enough to get married yet. And I say, did you know what +kind of a rotter you were going off with?” + +Athalie’s eyes fairly blazed. + +“He’s nothing of the sort!” she retorted, “I’ve known him for years. +He’s perfectly darling! He’s my mother’s friend.” + +“Is that all?” said Barry witheringly. “I thought you were going to say +your grandmother’s.” + +“I think you’re perfectly horrid!” said Athalie shrugging what was left +of her shoulders, and drawing as far away from him as she could. “You +think you’re smart!” + +“Look here, kid! There’s no use your quarrelling with the only friend +you’ve got just now. I’m telling you facts. Can’t you listen to reason? +That man’s a rotter. I know his kind. If he’s your mother’s friend so +much the worse. He knew he wasn’t doing the square thing taking a kid +like you off that way at night. What kind of a rep would you have had, +will you tell me, when you got back I’d like to know?” + +“I wasn’t coming back,” sobbed Athalie softly, “I told you—I—was +ggg-g-oing to be m-m-married!” + +“Yes, in a pig’s eye you were! If that man ever married you, kid I’d eat +my hat. He hadn’t any more idea of marrying you than I have, and that’s +flat! This isn’t a very nice way to talk to a girl I know, but when you +won’t listen to sense why you’ve gotta be shown.” + +“He was going to buy me—a—s-s-string of real pearls!” wept Athalie +suddenly remembering, “and we were going to have a turkey dinner! +I’m—ju-s-t—st-ar-r-r-ved!” + +Barry shrugged down behind his wheel disgustedly. + +“You look as if you had meat enough on you to stand it awhile!” he said +contemptuously, “I thought you were a girl, not a baby!” + +Athalie held in the sob on a high note and surveyed him angrily. + +“You are the most—_disagreeable_ boy!” she vociferated. + +“I didn’t state my opinion of you yet. But you certainly aren’t my idea +of agreeable.” + +“I didn’t ask you your opinion.” + +“Say, look here,” said Barry, “let’s cut this out. This isn’t getting us +anywhere. What I want is for you to see some sense before I get you +home. Your father’s a kind of a friend of mine and I’d hate like the +deuce to have all this get out about you in the town. You see, whatever +you think of this rotter you were going off with, the little old town +would know fast enough what he was, if any of ’em knew you were off in +the night with him. You can’t kid the town!” + +“I haven’t the slightest desire to bother with your little old town,” +said Athalie loftily. “It may go to the devil for all I care!” + +Barry was silent with disgust for a moment. + +“Well, if it does,” he said slowly, “it will carry you on a pointed +stick ahead of it, and like as not they’ll try out the point of the +stick on your father first. You can’t kid the devil!” + +There was a long pause. The night was very still. They had not passed a +car for some time. The lights in the sleeping villages in the valley +below them were nearly all gone out; moist, dank air rushed up in +wreaths and struck them lightly in the face as they passed. The sudden +breath of an apricot tree in bloom drenched the darkness. Over in the +east toward which they were hastening a silver light was lifting beyond +the horizon and in reflection a little thread of a river leaped out from +the darkness where it had been sleeping in winding curves among the dark +of plumy willows. + +“I _hate_ you!” said Athalie suddenly. “You called me names! You’re a +vulgar boy!” + +“What names did I call you kid?” Barry’s voice was gentle. + +“You called me fat in a very coarse way!” + +“Well, you’re not exactly emaciated, are you?” He gave her a friendly +grin in the darkness. + +“I hate you!” reiterated Athalie again, “and I want to get out and +walk!” + +“Anything to please you!” said Barry quickly bringing the car to a full +stop and reaching over to throw open the door by her side. + +Athalie was surprised to be taken so literally, but she made an instant +move to get out, and then realizing that her ankles were tied she +subsided again. + +“Oh, excuse me,” said Barry and stooping unfastened the cord on her +ankles, and sat back again. + +“Are you going to untie my hands?” she asked imperiously. + +“Oh, no, I guess not,” said Barry easily, “you don’t walk on your hands +do you?” + +She cast him a furious look and bounced out of the car, walking off very +rapidly down the road with her shoulders stiff and indignant. + +Barry sat back and watched her. She went on swiftly till she came to the +bend of the road, and then she looked back half fearfully. The car was +still and dark as if Barry had settled for a nap. The road ahead wound +into a dark wood, and the trees were casting weird shadows across the +roadway. But no one should call her bluff. She would go on and show him. +She stumbled forward on her little high heeled slippers almost falling +as she ran fearfully toward the darkness of the wooded road. Then +suddenly on her horrified senses came the distant sound of a motor in +the opposite direction and a long thin forecasting of light shot out +with a blind glare ahead. Another car was coming! And it was away in the +nighttime! And she alone on the road with her arms tied! Horrible fear +seized upon her and rooted her to the ground. Then with a mighty effort +she gathered her ebbing strength and turning fled. + + + + + XXI + + +In the first rod her right slipper flew off and lay at the side of the +road but she waited not for slippers. Her silken clad foot went over the +rough stony highway with the fleetness of a rabbit. She darted to the +side of the car and panted: + +“Let me get in, quick! Quick! There’s another car coming!” + +Barry leaned over and pulled her up, cast a quick glance to the oncoming +lights, started his motor and dashed along at full speed just in time to +pass swiftly as if he had come from a distance, and then when the +passing car was out of sight remarked pleasantly: + +“Have a nice walk?” + +“Don’t!” said Athalie shuddering. He looked at her furtively. The tears +were coursing down her cheeks but she was not making any sound. + +“Look here, kid, I’m sorry!” he said pleasantly, “let’s call this off. +You’re all in! And say! I’m going to untie your hands. I know I can +trust you not to make any more trouble. We’re almost home now kid. Only +a matter of about four miles, and we’ll run through the town as still as +oil and get you home and nobody any the wiser. But before we get there +you’ve got to make a contract to can that rotter or I’ll have to make a +clean breast of the whole thing to your father, how you phoned to him, +and how you met him in the woods, and what he said to you and all—” + +Athalie turned an amazed face toward him now, smeared with powder and +tears, and lit by the newly risen moon. + +“You know—?” + +“Yep! Know it all! Saw you climb out your window and go to the drug +store. Was in the next booth and heard every word you phoned. Wasn’t ten +feet away from you in the woods. I tell you, you can’t kid this town.” + +Athalie looked aghast. + +“No, you don’t need to worry. Nobody else knows yet, and I don’t intend +they shall if you agree to can that man. Is it a bargain?” + +There was a long pause, during which Athalie sniffed quietly, then she +murmured: + +“My father—he’ll half kill me—” + +“No, he won’t! He’ll be much more likely to kill the man. But perhaps we +can fix that up too. You leave it to me. Now, lean over here and let’s +get those knots untied.” + +“I didn’t say I would yet!” said Athalie with a catch of rebellion in +her breath. + +“No, but you’re going to,” said Barry pleasantly, “you’re not yella.” + +Barry worked away with the satin sash talking meanwhile. + +“Say, kid, you know you’ll forget all this when you get acquainted in +town and begin to have good times. What you need is to get into high +school and play basket ball. You’d need to train down a little of +course, but you’d make a great player. I watched you as you went up the +road, and you’ve got the build all right. Say, some of the girls on our +team are peachy players, but you could beat ’em all at it if you’d try. +If I was you I’d begin to train down tomorra. Cut out those sundaes and +sodas, and chocolates, and don’t be everlastingly eating cake and fudge. +You’ll never make a player unless you reduce—” + +It was surprising how their attitudes toward one another had changed. +Athalie wiped up her smeary face, and began to take an interest in life. +She even smiled once at a joke Barry made about the moon. She was rather +quiet and almost humble. + +Barry grew almost voluble. He described in detail several notable +athletic features of the past that had put their high school in a class +with several large prep schools in the state. He opened out on the +prospects for the season’s baseball games admitting reluctantly on +enquiry that he was their nine’s captain and coach. + +Suddenly the brow of the hill they were climbing was reached and there +before them lay the plain of Silver Sands, with the belching chimneys of +Frogtown glaring against the night, and off to the left the steeple of +the Presbyterian church shining in the moonlight. It was very still down +there where the houses slept, and the few drowsy lights kept vigil. +Barry cast it a loyal glance and brought the car to a standstill. + +“Look, kid,” he said with something commanding in his young voice, +“that’s our town, down there! Doesn’t she look great with her feet to +the river and her head on the hills? She’s a crackerjack little old town +if you treat her right, and no mistake. See that white spot over there +behind the trees? That’s the pillars on the old Silver house. It’s a +prince of a house, and the people that lived in it have always been +princes. My mother says the whole country round has always looked up to +the Silvers. They’ve always been _real_! Do you get me? It’s a great +thing to belong to a family like that!” + +Athalie turned her large eyes on him wonderingly and suddenly some of +her father’s sentences of the morning came to her, sentences about +gentlemen and ladies, and respectable standards, and their meaning went +home on the shaft of Barry’s simple arrow. + +Barry was never one to explain a joke or a sermon. He let it rest and +passed to another line of thought. + +“We’re going around on the beach road,” explained Barry, “and come in +the lane just below your house. We’ll stop at Aunt Katie’s where the +minister boards and slip through the back hedge. Then there won’t be a +whole lot for anyone to see and hear. Anybody might drive up to the +minister’s door any time of night and nobody think anything of it. If +Aunt Katie sees us she’ll keep her mouth shut. She’s a peach, she is. If +you ever need a friend, tie up to her, kid. Now, before we go on I’ll +trouble you for the name and address of that rotter!” + +“What are you going to do?” asked Athalie in an alarmed voice. + +“Got to return this car haven’t I?” + +“Oh, why yes, I suppose so. But—he’ll be awfully angry! You might get +arrested you know!” + +“Watch me!” said Barry lightly. “Now I’ll trouble you for that address.” + +“I don’t remember the address,” said Athalie, “I went there in a +taxicab. It’s somewhere in a big apartment house. I got it out of the +telephone book.” + +“What’s his name then? You haven’t forgotten that have you?” asked Barry +eyeing her suspiciously. “Is Bobs the first or last part of it?” + +Athalie cast a startled glance at him. + +“Farrell, Robert Farrell,” she answered meekly. + +“That’s all right,” said Barry. “I’ll look him up.” + +Barry started the car again and they were silent as they sped along for +some minutes. Then Athalie asked in a scared voice: + +“What are you going to tell my father?” + +“Nothing much unless I have too,” said Barry easily, “if you can that +man he doesn’t need to know anything about it, but if I find you haven’t +played square he’ll know the whole thing in about three minutes. It’s +entirely up to you.” + +Athalie looked frightened. + +“I won’t phone to him any more—nor write to him!” she said at length, +“but I can’t be sure what he’ll do.” + +“I don’t think he’ll bother you any more after I get through with him,” +said Barry airily. + +Athalie cast him another frightened glance. + +“You’d better be careful—” she warned. “He’s got an awful temper.” + +“So I should judge,” said Barry, “I’m glad you’re out of his clutches.” + +The car slid along the Silver beach quietly as fine machinery can be +made to go. Past the belching furnaces with the night shift in +sleeveless shirts moving picturesquely past the light in the rosy dusk +of the big structures; past the ruins of the pickle factory, and the +darkened windows of the rows of little houses; past the house with the +lighted upper window where little Mary and Barry’s mother struggled with +death the long hours through, and the stricken father and mother knelt +each side of the bed and prayed; past the darkened cannery and the silk +factory, and the buildings of the Sand Company, across the side tracks +and the railroad; over the bridge that spanned a small tributary stream; +and winding the back way into Silver Sands, down Sweetbriar lane to Aunt +Katie’s door. + +There was a light in Aunt Katie’s upper front window as Barry helped +Athalie out of the car. Barry looked up as they passed in the gate and +gave a soft, low whistle like the chirp of a bird. But it was Aunt +Katie’s voice, not the minister’s, that spoke in a low tone from an open +side window: + +“Is that you Barry?” + +“Sure,” growled Barry cheerfully. + +“Oh, you have found her!” said the voice again, “I am _glad_!” and there +was something so vibrant and pleased about it that it thrilled Athalie. +No one had ever been glad like that about her before. She had always +been considered a nuisance, something to be appeased and gotten rid of +as quickly as possible. She warmed to a voice like that and looked up +wistfully. It almost seemed to her that she ought to say thank you. She +had scarcely ever felt that thanking impulse before in all her wild +young life. + +“Sure I found her!” said Barry. “Mist’r Bannard over t’th’house?” + +“Why, yes, he’s just gone back again. He said he and Mr. Greeves were +going to the city to hunt for her. You better hurry.” + +“Aw’right. G’night!” and Barry led the way rapidly round the side porch, +down through the garden and over the back fence. Athalie was stumbling +painfully along the plowed ground with one little high heeled slipper +and one silken clad sorry foot. As she struggled up on the fence Barry +saw it. + +“Say, kid, when did you lose your shoe?” he asked solicitously. + +“Up there on the road when I was running,” said the girl with a catch in +her breath and looking up he saw that she was suffering and that there +were tears on her face. + +“You poor kid!” he said gently, and stooping, picked her up and carried +her all the way up through the garden, to the brick terrace at the back +hall door. There he set her down gently, and tapped at the door. + +“I wonder what time it is by moonlight,” he said glancing down at the +sun-dial. “It must be a good piece into tomorrow already. My time piece +got kicked across the room the other day by mistake so I have to get +along without it.” + +Athalie stood shivering, a sorry little figure in her tattered scarlet +draperies, with her smeary face, her hat jammed over one ear, and one +torn silk stocking, but a faint semblance of a wistful smile went over +her face as she watched the nice big boy beside her. How strong he had +been, and how tender! It gave her that thanking feeling again. How +strange! And yet how like a ruffian he had treated her out on the road +and made her come home! Her mingled feelings held in check by the very +salutary possibility that she was about to meet with a well deserved +punishment from the stranger-parent inside the door were overwhelming +enough without any addition. But when hurrying footsteps came down the +hall, and Anne Truesdale’s face red with weeping appeared as she opened +the door, Athalie suddenly remembered her exit from the house that +afternoon and realized that there were many scores for her to settle, +and shrank back behind her protector. + +Greeves and Bannard came quickly down the hall, and at the top of the +stairs there was a soft stirring and the flutter of a blue bath robe as +Silver leaned over the banister by her door to listen. + +Barry stepped within and lifted his old cap respectfully. He was in his +shirt sleeves and his face looked tired and haggard but with a cheerful +grin. + +“She got lost, Mr. Greeves and took the wrong road. I happened along and +brought her back. Sorry we had to be so late, but it was a good piece +away. She’s about all in so you better put her to bed. No thanks, I +can’t stay. I got a borrowed car over in the lane I gotta return. Oh, +well, I don’t care if I do have some cookies.” + +They plied him with plates of cake and cups of coffee and took the +attention entirely away from Athalie, and the girl thankfully slipped +upstairs. Then she remembered the sweater she was still wearing, and +slipped it off quickly, paused to put on another shoe that lay in her +way, flung her cloak about her and stole down again. + +She had almost a shy look on her face as she brought the sweater over to +where Barry stood by the dining room table swallowing down hot coffee +and talking to the minister about the baseball prospects. + +Both the minister and Greeves looked at her in surprise. Somehow, with +the paint washed off, even in dirty streaks she looked more human, and +less bold and bizarre. + +Barry looked up with one of his brilliant smiles that he gave rarely, +and took the sweater. + +“I’m afraid you were cold!” said Athalie most unexpectedly to herself. +It hadn’t occurred to her to think of anyone but herself until that +instant. + +“Oh, that’s all right, kid!” he said setting down his coffee cup and +struggling into his sweater with a couple of motions, “glad I had it +along. Hope you feel all right in the morning.” + +Athalie retired feeling for perhaps the first time in her life that she +was forgiven and given another chance. Somehow all her escapades up to +this time, with nurses, governesses, teachers, and parents, had ended in +enmity and a bitter feeling of spite. She went upstairs slowly wondering +what it was about this boy that made her feel like a happy little child. +She ought to hate him. To be planning some way to get it back on him. He +had baffled her and ruled her as no one had ever done before, and he was +only a kid like herself, and yet she had a sort of awe for him, an +interest in him, a pleasure in his smile. She took off her red tatters +pondering this, forgetful entirely of her bridegroom that was to have +been. + +While Barry was stowing away the sandwiches and cake and coffee that +Anne Truesdale seemed always to be able to produce without a moment’s +warning, Greeves and Bannard withdrew to the hall. The father looked +worn and haggard. He cast an anxious eye up the stairs and said in a low +voice: + +“Bannard I can’t thank you enough for sticking by through this. It seems +strange but this is getting me worse than anything that has ever come to +me. I need some advice. I need some help. How on earth am I ever to +teach that unruly child!” + +“You need God, Greeves! I mean it! Kneel down and pray. That will do you +more good than any advice that anyone could possibly give you.” + +“Don’t get on your hobby again tonight Bannard. I’m in no mood for +trifling. I’ve got to give that girl some kind of a lesson—” + +“She looked to me as if she had learned her lesson pretty thoroughly,” +said Bannard. “I wonder where Barry found her. I thought he must be out +on one of his specials. That boy certainly is a wonder!” + +“Yes, I am deeply grateful. What are his circumstances? Can I reward +him?” + +“Give him your friendship. That’s all he would ever take. He’s proud as +Lucifer, but he’s loving as they make ’em.” + +“Yes, I liked him the first time I met him. I’d like to know more about +where he found her.” + +“Well, perhaps she’ll tell you. I doubt if he ever will. He’s a man of +few words, where it concerns anything he has done. But I wasn’t +trifling, Greeves, I meant what I said. There is nothing in the wide +universe would open up this situation and show you the right way like +getting down on your knees and getting back to God, and when you get +there that ‘tomorrow’ I was telling you about will be about to dawn.” + +“Ready Barry? I’ll walk along with you. Good night Greeves. I’m glad +your vigil is at an end!” + +They went out the terrace door and walked silently down the garden, two +dark shadows among the growing things. Even if Lizette Weldon had been +wakeful she would not have noticed them for the hedge was tall and they +kept close in its shadow. + +Silently the two, as those who understand one another, passed over the +fence and through Aunt Katie’s little garden, around the side of the +house to the front gate. + +“Anything I need to know, Partner?” asked Bannard affectionately. + +Barry considered. + +“I guess not tonight, sir.” He looked up with a smile. + +“Have to go far with that car?” + +“Quite a piece.” + +“Your mother is down at the Flats with a sick child tonight.” + +“Aw’right! I’ll be back before she is. G’night!” + +Barry slid into the car noiselessly, and as quietly as a car can go that +one backed out of the lane to the beachway, and sped away into the +night. He did not immediately take to the city highway however. There +was something he had to do first. About an hour later he turned into the +highway a mile or so above Silver Sands and made high speed to the city. +In his hip pocket under his sweater reposed a muddy little slipper. + +The minister had slipped into his door and extinguished the light at +once going softly upstairs in the dark. From behind Aunt Katie’s door +there came a question: + +“Was it all right?” + +“All right Aunt Katie. Your prayers brought us through!” + +About half an hour later Lizette who had fallen asleep on watch woke up +and scanned both her windows, but neither Aunt Katie’s nor the Silver +mansion showed any signs of light, yet she had been sure she heard an +automobile somewhere in her dreams. For Anne Truesdale faithful even to +a “daring huzzy” prepared a hot bath for Athalie, and a tray of good +things for her to eat, but she had been careful to hang a black shawl +behind the drawn shade of the window looking toward the Weldon house. + +The eastern sky was paling into dawn as Barry drove into the outskirts +of the city and began his search for an open telephone station. He found +presently an obscure little hotel, and had no trouble in discovering +Robert Farrell’s name. He purchased a sheet of paper and an envelope and +standing by the desk wrote a brief and characteristic letter: + + “Mr. Robert Farrell, + Redwood Apartments, + + Dear sir:—This is to notify you that you are not to have any + further communication with Miss Greeves. The police force of + Silver county is onto you, and is watching every move you make, + and if the investigation of your past that is being made brings + any further criminal developments we will make Silver County too + hot to hold you. If this warning of the police of Silver Sands + is not obeyed, Mr. Greeves will stop at nothing to prosecute you + to the limit. Signed, B. Link, member of police force, Silver + Sands.” + +With this letter duly addressed and sealed Barry took his way to the +Redwood Apartments and rang up the man in Farrell’s apartment. To him, +when he finally appeared yawning, Barry handed over the letter and the +car and touching his hat politely disappeared, running like a deer to +the station as soon as he had passed the corner, and arriving just in +time to catch the milk train for Silver Sands. + + + + + XXII + + +“The only possible condition under which you are free to remain in this +town and in my house is that you hereafter conduct yourself as a lady in +every way!” + +This was the ultimatum which Patterson Greeves after a night of vigil +flung out upon his subdued and waiting daughter sometime along in the +middle of the morning when she chose to come down to a languid +breakfast. + +Silver had gone early to the Flats with the minister and Anne Truesdale +was out doing marketing. They had the house to themselves. The father +girded up his soul and went to the task before him. It had to come +sooner or later. + +Athalie regarded him composedly for a moment before responding: + +“Well,” said she, “with Lilla on the high seas, and my money mostly gone +I suppose I’ll have to make a try. I won’t go to school. What is it you +want me to do? Go to church and Sunday school?” + +Now nothing was farther from Patterson Greeves’ intention than to attend +divine service of any sort or to make his family do so, but in that +instant it flashed across his consciousness that that was the very thing +that would have to be done if Athalie was to remain in the town and live +as a member of the old Silver family should, in good and regular +standing. Athalie could not associate with the young people of the town +and expect to be comfortable among them unless she did as they did, +unless she did as the traditions of the family laid down. For himself he +would probably have ignored what people thought and have shut himself in +with his books and his few friends and let the town go hang. But here he +was preaching the standard of his old family and insisting upon its +being kept high, and in his heart not planning to do so himself. He saw +the inconsistency at once, and knew also that the thing she had +suggested was the very influence that would readjust her abnormal young +soul, if anything could do it. If religion was good for anything it +ought to be good for that. In fact, there was somewhere hid away in his +own soul the belief not yet extinct that religion did do things to souls +when it really got a chance! Also, there was Bannard. He had some sense +if he was a minister. She wouldn’t likely get much nonsense hearing him. +And there was Silver! Of course Silver would want to go to church. +Somehow he shrank from letting Silver know how far he had strayed from +the religion of her mother, and her mother’s people. All this passed +through his mind in the lifting of an eye. He was accustomed to control +his face and cover it with a mask among men. He scarcely seemed to +hesitate as he replied: + +“Yes. Certainly. Of course you will go to church and Sunday school.” + +“Oh, heck!” said Athalie, a kind of hunted look coming into her eyes as +she flounced around and stared out of the window. + +Greeves watched her painfully trying to adjust his own thoughts to this +unexpected turn. He would have to go to church himself probably to +enforce this. He felt like reechoing her exclamation. What was he +letting himself in for? Well, if it got too strenuous he could always +send her away to camp when he found the right place. Then too, he would +have to be courteous to Bannard. He had been awfully decent last night, +knowing just the thing to be done, and not making a great fuss about it +as some would have done, and making every thing public. Yes, of course +he would have to go to church occasionally. Tomorrow was the Sabbath. He +would have to go then to start things right. Then after that perhaps he +could manage to be away a good deal Sundays, run down to the shore or +make a visit to New York or Boston—any excuse would do. He would have +to go a good deal anyway to consult libraries. + +“Well,” said Athalie as suddenly whirling back as she had turned away. +“What else? I’m game.” + +Her fixed gaze was rather disconcerting. He couldn’t help admiring the +way she took it. There was something rather interesting about her in +spite of all her devilishness. Where did she get that? + +“There are three things that I shall require,” he said following out the +plan he had evolved during the night. Poor soul, he had gone such a +little way in this matter of fatherhood and discipline. He thought it +could all be enumerated under three heads. + +Athalie watched him attentively. + +“Obedience—” + +Athalie winced. + +“Who do I have to obey? Not that red-faced servant woman! Not that other +girl!” + +Her father faltered. + +“Because I _won’t_! That’s _flat_!” + +“They would come under the next head,” temporized Patterson Greeves, +“which is courtesy.” + +“Oh, you mean I’ve got to be _polite_! All right. I suppose I can. What +next?” + +“Modesty!” finished the father with a sudden realization that his list +was pitifully short and she was dismissing them all and making them +shorter. + +“Well, what do you mean by that?” + +“I mean that I do not like the way you dress nor behave. You constantly +call attention to yourself, to your person. It is probably not your +fault that you are somewhat stout, although I have understood there are +diets that will regulate that sort of thing, but it is your fault when +you dress in loud and noticeable colors and strange styles, or when you +expose your flesh to view.” + +Athalie’s brow drew down. + +She glanced down at her dashing little blouse of orange crochet over a +flannel skirt of orange and black stripes. Her plump pink arms showed +through the knitted mesh, and the brilliant neckerchief she was wearing +jauntily across one shoulder revealed much fat neck. A flush of +disappointment rolled up her carefully unpowdered cheek. She had really +tried to look pleasing for that interview. According to her standard she +looked nice. + +“I’ve worn the only things I had,” she said sullenly. “I’m sure I don’t +know how to please you.” + +Something in the wistfulness of her tone appealed to him. He cast about +how to answer her. + +“Suppose you go up and spread out what you have and I’ll come and look +at your things. If you haven’t got the proper clothes we’ll have to go +and buy some.” + +A glint of interest shone in Athalie’s eyes. + +“I’ll go up and spread them out,” she said eagerly, “it won’t take me +long. There’s really some quite spiffy ones.” + +He almost groaned aloud as she disappeared like a bright, saucy +butterfly. How was he to make her understand that it was their very +“spiffiness” that made the trouble. + +In a few minutes he heard her calling, and he goaded himself up the +stairs trying to prepare to be very diplomatic and gentle and firm. + +Athalie stood by the door her face radiant and behind her on the bed lay +shining masses of silks and satins and velvets in gaudy array and all +around the room were hangers on which hung limp effigies of herself done +in all colors of the rainbow, the vintage of Lilla’s cast off frocks, +made over for her neglected daughter. + +Athalie led him around the room beginning with what she considered the +sober ones, and going on to the more dressy affairs. He went from one to +the other with growing bewilderment and pain, and when he had finished +he stood back in dismay and began at the beginning again. He could not +find one thing that filled his idea of what a young girl should wear. +Once he thought he had discovered it in a simple looking brown affair +with a gleam of brilliant green which Athalie had hung behind the door +as if she had forgotten it or did not want it inspected because it was +too dull. He took the hanger down and began to examine it. + +“Now this,” he said with a tone of growing satisfaction, and picking up +a corner of the long tunic that was bound in tailored fashion, “this +seems—why, what is this? Trousers?” + +“Yes, those are the knickerbockers,” said Athalie, “I used to like that +a lot but I’m sort of tired of it. However, if you like it I’ll put it +on. I thought maybe—but I’ll put it on!” + +She seized the hanger and slipped into the bathroom, returning in a +brief space with the garment on. Patterson Greeves drew a long breath. +She seemed to be clothed properly for the first time. The lines were +straight, the color was dark, her form did not appear so sensuous. + +“Now that—” he began, “step out from behind the bed and let me see.” + +Athalie stepped out and walked. + +“Why, what is that? Is it torn? Is it ripped? Why how short it is!” + +“No, those are open all the way up to the waist. That is the +knickerbockers underneath. Haven’t you been used to the knickerbocker +suits? They’re all the craze at school. I had one of the first that came +out. I just made Lilla get it, or rather I bought it myself and sent the +bill to her and told her I’d tell a friend of hers something she didn’t +want told if she didn’t pay it—” + +Athalie’s tongue was rattling on eagerly, but Athalie’s father was sick +at heart. As she strode about the room, whirling in front of the long +mirror on the old-fashioned bureau, her stout legs were revealed clad in +green trousers which finished in a tailored cuff below the knee and +fully eight inches above this brown tunic flopped and flared, making her +a grotesque figure, neither man nor maid. A fashion that might have been +tolerated or even fancied on a slender little child, but was revolting +on a girl of Athalie’s age and build. + +“Take it off,” ordered the discouraged parent. “Haven’t you anything +decent at all?” + +Athalie stopped dismayed and retreated half frightened into the other +room. When she came out again she was wearing the little yellow dress +and she looked lonesome and unhappy. + +Her father wheeled about from the window where he had been looking +unseeingly into the garden—it was strange how the only relief from +things sometimes is to look out of the window and get a wider +vision—and eyed her perplexedly. + +“We’ll have to go to town and do some shopping. I think it would be best +to take your sister along—” + +“She’s _not_ my sister! And I won’t go if you take her! I thought you +understood that!” + +“That’s not obedience, Athalie!” + +The girl looked down stormily. + +“Well, then if you force her on me I won’t obey. I don’t see why you +want her along. She can’t pick out my clothes! I wouldn’t wear a rag she +selected. You ask her if she would like what I chose for her.” + +The father reflected that that was probably true. Silver would certainly +not look right in any of Athalie’s clothes. + +“Well, then we’ll take the housekeeper,” he temporized. + +“That frumpy thing!” said Athalie. + +“Well, who would you suggest?” He looked desperately at his daughter and +wondered why a creature of so young an age should be able to perpetrate +so much trouble and get away with it. + +Athalie dimpled into a charming smile. + +“I don’t see why you and I couldn’t go just together. It’s you that’s to +be suited, isn’t it? And me that’s to do the wearing? Well, then, what +has anybody else to do with it.” + +“I’m not at all certain that I—” + +“Oh, if you don’t know what you want—” began Athalie with a toss of her +head. + +“Very well,” said her father, with swift decision, “get ready at once. +I’ll phone for a car. Can you be ready in half an hour?” he looked at +his watch. + +“Yes,” she said brightly, casting a selective eye around her wardrobe. + +“But what will you wear?” he asked uneasily looking around also trying +to find something that would do. “I don’t see anything here that is +suitable.” + +Athalie pouted. + +“Perhaps we’d better wait and I’ll telephone for something to be sent +out on approval, a blue serge suit or something,” he suggested +helplessly. + +Athalie darkened. + +“I’ve got an old tweed thing in the trunk. I hate it but maybe you’d +like it.” + +“Let me see it.” + +She pawed in her trunk a moment and fished out a brown tweed coat and +skirt. He took it up and examined it, his face clearing. + +“Now, that’s what I call a nice neat, sensible dress for a girl,” he +said. “Is it all whole? There aren’t any slits or anything in it? Well, +put that on, and some kind of a hat that doesn’t look too fast, and dark +stockings and gloves. And—Athalie, wash your face! _Wash_ it I mean!” + +Athalie waited until he had closed the door and then she looked her +thought of him behind his back in a very forceful expression. Having +thus unburdened her soul she set about making a hasty toilet and when +she came down stairs seemed to him quite presentable in her trim brown +coat and skirt. The skirt was more abbreviated both horizontally and +perpendicularly than he would have desired, but it would have to do for +the present, and she wore a small, neat hat of brown straw from which +she had just extracted some kind of an ornament in feathers that +resembled a burning bush. It was drawn down over her forehead till she +looked quite demure, and her feet were quietly encased in brown +stockings and tan oxfords with low heels and rubber soles. She wore +gloves and her whole aspect seemed to have changed. Looking on her now +her father wondered perhaps if it might not be possible sometime to +even—well—rather like her. + +That morning’s shopping was an experience Patterson Greeves will never +be likely to forget. He felt as if he were leading a wild young coyote +by a chain, which might at any moment give way in his hand and let chaos +loose in the stores. The number of things that Athalie picked out and +her father disapproved were too numerous to mention. Sometimes they +found a saleswoman who sided with the girl and took it upon herself to +advise the father, and then Greeves went to another store. Again they +fell to the hands of a prim, sharp woman with a false front who called +Athalie “dearie” and patronized her, and the girl simply refused to try +on or look at a thing under her guidance. + +In his pocket Patterson Greeves carried a brief memorandum the result of +a secret interview with Anne Truesdale, which he from time to time +consulted anxiously as if it were a talisman that would somehow guide +him through the mazes of this expedition. It read: + + “Four or five stout gingham dresses for school. + Two sprigged muslins for afternoons. + A nice white dress for evening socials. + A dark blue silk for best. + Two serviceable blue serges made sailor style.” + +Athalie had two methods. One was to go into ecstacies over something she +liked, talk about its simplicity, and its classic lines, and how sweet +and quiet it was. The other was to walk off out of the department +entirely and be found looking drearily out of a window when she saw her +father’s eye on something that did not interest her. + +On the whole she worked things pretty well, and came off with four wash +silks, which by the aid of the saleswoman she had persuaded her father +were now taking the place of ginghams; several crêpe de chines, a couple +of handkerchief linens, and a one-piece serge that cost twice as much as +any dress she had ever owned before. If she was going to have to be +severe and plain, by all means let it be the severity of elegant +simplicity. After a sumptuous repast at an irreproachable tea room at +which she ordered everything on the menu that took her fancy from +lobster salad to café frappé she carried her exhausted parent home +triumphantly and spent the afternoon making little alterations in her +purchases. He had selected them himself, hadn’t he? Well, then he +couldn’t possibly find fault with anything about them. He would never +know what she had done to them. + +Life settled down quietly. Patterson Greeves got out some of his notes +and began to put his papers away in the desk. Silver had sent word that +she was spending the day at the Flats. There was nothing to hurt or +annoy. He reflected that both Lizette Weldon and several of the +Vandemeeters had been in evidence at their front windows or gates when +he and Athalie had driven away and again when they returned. Surely +Athalie’s escapade would be forgotten if all went on in the conventional +manner. Surely he might relax a little now. + +From the region of the kitchen there floated from time to time spicy +suggestive odors. + +And the next day was the Sabbath. + + + + + XXIII + + +Mary Truman called for Athalie Greeves to take her to Sunday school. + +She did not want to go. She had told all the girls at the school picnic +the day before that she didn’t intend to do it. She had cried for two +hours and begged both father and mother to let her off, but they had +insisted, and so with her neat blue serge suit and her blue straw +sailor, her hair tied with a fresh ribbon, and her hands and feet +encased in simple girlish fittings, she reluctantly swung the Greeves’ +gate open and slowly made her way up the path. + +It was early. The first bell had only begun to ring. Mrs. Truman had +insisted that she must give the stranger plenty of time to get ready. +She had also, unknown to her daughter, telephoned Mr. Greeves that Mary +was coming. + +Patterson Greeves, having come down to breakfast in much better frame of +mind than since he had returned to Silver Sands, had forgotten entirely, +that it was the Sabbath day or that there was such a thing as Sabbath +school to be dealt with. Indeed, left to himself he might have been +persuaded to forget it altogether for this time, but when Mrs. Truman +offered an escort he jumped at it eagerly, and Athalie heard herself +promised as a new scholar in the class with “that frumpy little Truman +girl.” + +However, Athalie was going to be a good sport. When her father turned +from the telephone and informed her that she must get ready for Sunday +school she looked up with just a flicker of a gasp and stared, but that +was all. Quite like a lady she arose from the table and went to her +room. When she came down dressed in her brown tweed suit, gloves, hat, +and shoes as she had dressed the day before for her trip to the city her +father looked her over almost with approval and when he saw her go down +the path beside Mary Truman he sighed with relief. Perhaps she was going +to be amenable to reason after all. + +Mindful of her triple promise to her father Athalie was quite polite, +but in a lofty way, like a lion condescending to walk with a lamb. + +“So kind of you to come for me,” she said haughtily, “I never went to +Sunday school before in my life. What do they do?” + +“You—never went—to _Sunday school_!” Mary paused in horrified +astonishment. “Why! Where have you lived? Didn’t they _have_ any Sunday +school?” + +“Why, I really don’t know. I never enquired. Perhaps they had, but +nobody said anything about it. I’m curious to see it! Is it as dull as +day school?” + +“Oh, day school isn’t dull! We have lovely times. Silver Sands is said +to have the best school in Silver County. We have the darlingest +teachers! And debating society! And contests, and athletics! Oh, it’s +great! I feel dreadfully when I’m sick and have to miss a day. I haven’t +missed a day now in two years, not since I had the measles.” + +“Dear me!” said Athalie. “I should think you’d be bored to death! Do all +those girls you brought to see me go to Sunday school?” + +“Oh, yes, of course. Everybody goes to Sunday school in Silver Sands. +Most of them go to our church. Only Emily Bragg, she’s a Methodist, but +they have a nice Sunday school too, only not so large. I was allowed to +go with her once when she was going to speak on Children’s Day. We have +a lovely teacher. Her name’s Pristina Appleby. She lives right across +the street from you. She tells us very interesting things about the +pyramids and the tablets they’ve dug up and things like that you know. +Sometimes she brings us pictures to help understand the lesson.” + +“Lesson? Do you have lessons? Mercy! I hate lessons.” + +“Oh, you won’t hate this,” laughed Mary, “she just talks. We call her +Miss Prissie!” + +“Oh! And this Miss Pussy! Is she an old maid?” + +“Miss _Prissie_ I said. No, oh no, she isn’t an old maid. Her aunts are +that. She has three aunts and a grandmother and a great grandmother and +they all live together in that brick house across the street from you.” + +“Oh! I hadn’t noticed. Then she’s a young girl.” + +“Well, not exactly young. She’s not as young as your sister. I think +_she’s_ lovely. We girls are all crazy about her. I’m so sorry you +couldn’t have come to the fudge party the other night. We had such fun. +Your sister was wonderful! She started all the games—” + +Athalie’s face darkened but she kept her stiffly polite manner, a trifle +more haughty perhaps. + +“Yes, it was a pity!” she drawled. “Is this your church? What are they +ringing that bell for?” + +“Why for Sunday school.” + +“Oh! I thought somebody might be dead! I’ve read of that! You never can +tell what curious thing they may do in a strange place you know.” + +Mary started to giggle and then looked at her questioningly and grew red +instead. Was this rude girl trying to make fun of her again? + +“Especially in the country,” added Athalie. + +Mary said no more. Other girls and boys were standing around the +entrance as they went up the path. Athalie stared at everyone as if she +had come to a show and that was what was expected of her. Bannard came +down the street from the other direction and lifted his hat gravely to +Athalie. She dimpled and smiled. + +“So he goes to Sunday school too!” she remarked complacently. + +“Why, yes of course,” said Mary somewhat shortly. “He’s the minister. +Why shouldn’t he come!” She was getting tired of the publicity of +escorting this strange girl. She wished Sunday school were well over. + +Athalie was much entertained all through Sunday school. She stared at +everybody’s clothes, kept her eyes wide open during prayer watching the +contortion of the superintendent’s lips as he prayed. The other girls, +duly devout, stole curious glances at her between their fingers. Her +conduct of the day before had been carefully discussed at the dinner +tables and a general taboo placed upon her as far as an associate for +daughters was concerned. To find her in Sunday school was therefore a +surprise. The more so as a rumor had been started by Pristina Appleby’s +essay at the club that Patterson Greeves was one of the new thinkers and +had left the faith of his fathers to wander in dangerous speculations. + +But when Sunday school was out there was Patterson Greeves coming up the +walk with Silver by his side, her sweet face smiling to every one, her +smile almost like a part of the sunshine, her eyes as blue as the dress +she wore and the little hat with its black wing. + +Athalie stood by the door with Mary Truman and watched them approach, +noted her father’s fine presence with pride, heard the whispered remarks +about him, then heard: “Isn’t she sweet!” and saw that all eyes were +directed toward Silver. The sullen fires came back to her eyes. She +looked around like a hunted thing and for an instant thought of bolting +straight through the graveyard. Then her father’s grave glance was upon +her pleasantly and her face lighted up. He was not displeased with her +then. She experienced a sudden surprised pleasure in it. Fiercely did +she desire to belong to someone, to have someone care for her, to be +able to please. All her life she had met with impatience and curbing. +This father she had come determined to win to herself or die in the +attempt. Deeply had she longed for a home and parents like other girls +and had not had them. Perhaps she had, down deep in her heart, the +thought that maybe somehow she might draw hers together. All her young +life she had showered upon her selfish mother a degree of devotion, one +might almost say adoration such as few real mothers get, and it had only +returned upon itself in bitterness. The mother had regarded her lightly, +tolerantly, gaily, yet if that mother had asked of her any sacrifice, no +matter how great, the fierce young soul would have given it, gladly, +freely. So now Athalie regarded her father with eyes of pride and of +possession. + +Another face just then picked itself out from the throng of churchgoers, +a young face, strong and manly, vaguely familiar. He was standing under +the willow tree near the gravestones, bare headed, cleanly shaven, neat +and trim in a much brushed suit, talking to a group of other boys. +Presently they sauntered over toward the steps nodding to the girls who +came by, calling out a pleasant word. Mary Truman stepped down below +Athalie and spoke: + +“Why, hello, Barry. Where were you Friday night? Didn’t Mr. Bannard give +you my invitation to the fudge party?” + +Barry turned quickly and pleasantly. + +“Sorry Mary, I didn’t get home till late. Had an errand that kept me. +Hear you had a great time. Save some fudge for me?” + +Then he lifted his eyes and recognized Athalie. He did not speak. It was +rather a lighting of the eyes, a pleasant understanding that gave her +heart that warm glow and she knew him for her captor of the midnight +ride. After that Athalie was satisfied to stay and see this thing called +church through to the finish. + +Oh, she had been to church before of course. At school those things were +compulsory. But there was something about this church, like a big family +gathering of people who all liked each other and enjoyed being there +that was new to the girl. She stared about and wondered at it. Funny old +women in queer bonnets, coats that were antique of cut; a few of +recognized culture and education, though that counted very little as yet +with Athalie; one or two with stylish clothes. She watched the +Vandemeeter tribe file into the pew, grandma, first, slowly with a cane, +mother just behind, Henrietta helping grandma, Maria in the same black +broadcloth coat and black felt hat with the coque feather band she had +worn for the last seven years. Maria was never one to put on summer +clothes until summer was really there. Harriet and Cordelia with pink +velvet roses wreathed around their last year’s dyed straws. She eyed +them curiously. Each a replica of the other in a different stage of +life. What tiresome people. How did they endure life? She noted +grandma’s bent head, mother’s closed eyes, the squarely folded +handkerchiefs, the little tremble of the feathered bonnet when Henrietta +handed grandma the hymn book. Everything was strange and unusual to +Athalie. She wondered why such common people wanted to _be_, why they +seemed to take an _interest_ in being? Why did her father stay in a +place like this when there were cities where things were going on, wild, +gay life for which she thirsted? + +She was surprised to see Barry sitting in the back row of the choir. How +queer for a boy like that to be willing to waste his time this way! + +Suddenly Bannard’s voice arrested her attention. He was telling a story, +though he seemed to have a small leather book open in his hand as if he +were about to read. He painted a picture with his words. She forgot the +sunny church with its bright carpet and unfashionable congregation. She +was seeing a walled city in a strange land, under a blazing sky with +hungry faces looking out from little slits of windows in towers and +turrets, and an army camped around on every hand. They had been there +days and days and had starved out the stronghold. The people were +reduced to eating loathsome things. An ass’s head, something that would +not be thought of as food at another time, sold for about forty dollars, +coarse chick peas were selling at a prohibitive price. Even the king and +his court were starving. + +The king was walking on the wall, visiting his sentries. You could see +his face, lined with anxiety, as he shaded his eyes and looked out +across the sea of enemies’ tents. There was no sign of discouragement on +the part of that enemy. They had come to stay until the city +surrendered. They knew it would not be long. They had spies who had +discovered its state. They were well supplied with food themselves and +had nothing to do but eat and drink and make merry until they had worn +out the resources of the people and there was nothing left for them but +to surrender. The king sighed and passed on, as he went someone reached +out and caught his robe with claw like hands, a woman from the doorstep +of one of the little hovels on the wall. There were deep hollows under +her eyes and in her cheeks. She looked more like a skeleton than a +woman. “Help!” she cried, “help, my lord, O king!” + +The king drew away impatiently. So many cried for help and what could he +do. “Curse you!” he said impatiently, “with every barn floor bare and +every wine press empty, what can I do?” and he turned as if to pass on. +But the woman continued her strange weird cry, and began a terrible +story. Another woman appeared crouching frightened against the doorway. + +“This woman promised if I would kill my baby boy yesterday and cook and +eat him that she would kill hers today, but we ate my son yesterday and +now she has hid hers today. I pray you O king, speak to her. Make her +give up her son that she has hid.” + +Athalie’s eyes were wide with horror. She had never heard a story like +that. + +The speaker depicted the horror on the face of the king as he listened +to the tale, and watched the faces of the hunger-crazed women, realized +that he was powerless to aid, that things could only grow worse rather +than better, that the Lord in whom he had put at least a little of his +trust had apparently deserted him, and then he laid hold on his kingly +robe and tore it. + +Like a company of children the listening congregation attended, not an +eye looked dreamy, not a brain was planning out tomorrow’s work, nor +calculating the sum of yesterday’s mistakes. The Bible lived and +breathed before them as Bannard spoke. They saw that king reach down and +tear his robe as he passed on, they were among those who looked beneath +and saw the sackcloth next his skin, oriental symbol of humiliation, of +repentance, of prayer. They caught a glimpse of King Jehoram’s past, his +mother the wicked queen Jezebel, his father of whom it was written, +“there was none like unto Ahab, which did sell himself to work +wickedness in the sight of the Lord.” + +One saw that Jehoram was not quite so bad as his father and mother. He +put away the image of Baal which his father had set up for worship to +please his mother, but he wrought evil in the sight of the Lord. + +The king on the wall in the torn robe, with the sackcloth showing +beneath suddenly turned and swore a terrible oath that he would have the +head of God’s prophet that day, the prophet who had been promising day +after day that God would deliver them from the enemy; and now they were +come to the great extremity and God was not helping. Why should he wait +for God any longer? + +The king walked to his palace and sent a messenger to the little house +where Elisha lived. One saw the soldier from the palace hurry along with +sword in hand down the narrow streets of queer flat-topped oriental +houses, and Elisha sitting quietly in his door talking to some of the +old men, and suddenly lifting his eye to his servant and saying in a +quiet voice: “The king is sending a soldier to behead me. Shut the door +and lock it. The king will be here presently. Keep the soldier out till +he comes.” + +The hurrying feet, the hastily shut door, the altercation. Athalie sat +breathless with glowing eyes of wonder. The impudent air of the king as +he came, the parley: “Behold, this evil is of the Lord; why should I +wait any longer for Him to help me?” and Elisha’s quiet voice answering: +“Hear ye the word of the Lord. The time is up! Tomorrow about this time +shall a measure of fine white flour be sold at less than pre-war +prices.” + +“Ha!” the laugh of the servant on whom the king leans, “if God were +opening windows in heaven just now this might be!” + +The quiet rebuke: “You shall see it but not eat thereof.” + +Night drops quickly, suddenly in that eastern land. Twilight on the +white parched city where skulking shadows pass on the wall and huddled +human beings sleep and forget for a little while their sufferings. The +king in his palace asleep. No faith whatever in what Elisha promised. +Twilight outside the wall in the little leper village, four lepers +waiting at the gate, starving, talking it over. Shall they throw +themselves on the mercy of the enemy, and beg something to eat? “If they +kill us we shall but die anyway!” The hesitant approach, peering like +white ghosts into the first tent, the pause, the eager going forward. No +one there! The table spread. They snatch the food and devour it, and +move on to the next, and suddenly are struck with the silence throughout +the great camp. The hurrying investigation, then the hastening back to +the city to tell, the waking of the unbelieving king, the five men sent +to verify the story, the garments strewn in the way as the enemy fled, +the rejoicing, the crowding out of the city to spoil the tents of the +enemy, crushing out the life of the astonished servant who had laughed +the day before! The wonderful reason of the enemy’s flight, that the +Lord had caused a sound of horses to be heard by them! + +Athalie looked around the church to see if anybody was really believing +it. Where did they get a strange story like that? The Lord! _The Lord!_ +How strange that sounded as if the Lord was a real person! Did her +father believe that? She glanced at him as he sat with stern listening +attitude, his gloved hands on his knee. She could not tell whether he +were astonished at it or not. She listened again. The minister was +talking now about world problems. He said the world was waiting today as +then for the Lord to deliver them from a state of siege into which their +own sin and folly had placed them, and blaming God that He did not come. +They were tired of wearing sackcloth and ready to do murder. When all +the time God’s wonderful tomorrow was waiting, just over the way, +waiting for them to reach the limit of their own possibilities that God +might show His power and grace. He said that the troubles of the world +would never be solved and peace never come until Christ came into human +hearts, and that all these things pointed to a time close at hand when +some tomorrow about this time Christ Himself was coming back to relieve +His own forever from a state of siege. + +Athalie never took her eyes from the face of the speaker during this +closing talk. She had never heard anything like it in her life before. +It made realities out of what had been vague mythical stories, like +fairy tales, before. Was there really a Jesus Christ then? He died, +didn’t He, long ago? On a cross? What did they mean, _coming again_? + +She was silent and thoughtful all that day. Her father looked at her +relieved. She wandered around the house, played a few little jazzy tunes +on the piano which scandalized the Vandemeeters and Lizette who both +made it a point to listen intently for any sign of a hymn tune, then +drifted away to her room and her fast disappearing stock of chocolates +and literature. + +Silver had gone to the Mission school at the Flats. The house was silent +all the afternoon, with a Sabbath stillness Athalie had never known +before. Sabbath meant nothing to her but a gayer day than usual, the +focus of the gaiety of the week. + +Mary Truman, still under parental pressure called for her to go to +Christian Endeavor that evening, and because Athalie saw nothing else to +do, and her father and Silver were talking in the library before the +fire, she went. She wondered if the strange boy would be there. Barry. +What a nice name! + +He was there. He passed her a hymn book and looked pleased when she came +into the bright little chapel room where they met. He sang in a +quartette, growling a nice low bass. She watched him wonderingly, +remembering how he had held her like a vice when she tried to get the +wheel away from him. Remembering how gently he had lifted her and +carried her. + +It seemed a queer meeting. The girls and boys spoke, just like a frat. +meeting at school, only they said queer things. They referred to the +sermon of that morning as if they were altogether familiar with the +story of that siege. They spoke of Mr. Bannard as if he were a brother +and comrade. Mr. Bannard was there among them, just like one of them. It +was rather interesting, only it was embarrassing when they prayed. She +didn’t know what to do with her eyes so she watched them all. + +That boy Barry gave a notice about a committee meeting after service. +Two others jumped up and spoke about socials that were being planned. +They all seemed so eager and friendly. Athalie felt lonely and outside +everything. + +When they went in the church again there was Silver sitting with her +father. Mary asked her politely to come in their seat and she went. She +did not want to sit beside Silver again. + +Mr. Bannard spoke about the coming of Christ again. He made it plain +that He was really coming, and that some people, good people presumably +for Athalie didn’t understand that language about “believers” were to be +taken away and the world would wonder where they had gone. Athalie +looked over at Silver. She thought Silver would be one that would be +taken away. Well, that would be good. She hated good people and she +would be left with her father. It was reasonably sure a noted man of the +world like her father wouldn’t be taken away from earth like that. He +didn’t have that spirit-look that Silver wore as a garment. It +frightened her a little this talk about the Son of God coming back to +earth. She hoped on second thought that it wouldn’t come till she was +old, very old and didn’t care about living any more. It stayed with her +after she got home, and when she went to bed and thought of Lilla in a +little boat on the great ocean she cried a few tears sorrowfully. Lilla +was the only god she had ever had. + +On the whole she was rather docile about going to school the next +morning when her father suggested that she enter high school and finish +out the spring term. She remembered what Barry had said about athletics +and resolved not to eat any more chocolates for a week after this last +box was gone. + +So she polished her nails to a delicate point and betook herself +languidly to school to see how she liked it. She was astonished to see +how little impression she made on the wholesome atmosphere of high +school. The teacher, a placid faced elderly woman with a firm chin, said +to be the finest school principal in the county, smiled at her +pleasantly and put her in the front seat directly before the desk. None +of the boys gave her a glance, save Barry who showed mere recognition. +The girls she had met smiled politely and went on with study. Whenever +she looked up she was met with that pleasant challenge of a smile. There +was absolutely no opportunity to get away with anything unless one first +crossed that friendly smile, and Athalie wasn’t just exactly ready to do +that yet until she had tried things out. There had not been any too many +smiles in her life. She took the book that was handed her to read until +the principal should have time to examine her and place her in the +classes where she fitted, and was surprised to find it was an +interesting novel. The teacher explained it was the book the English +class were reading for review and conversation that week. + +Her father glanced into the study-hall half an hour later, after an +inspection of the building led by an old friend who was the Latin +teacher, and saw her absorbed in the book. He went home with a sigh of +relief, comforted. + +But that very night Athalie wrote eleven invitations to six boys and +five girls for a house party that week-end, and mailed them early in the +morning before she went to school. But that no one in her family knew. + + + + + XXIV + + +The tramp had found work as a laborer in the glass factory through the +efforts of some of the good Presbyterian women whose wood piles had been +supplying his breakfasts and dinners for some time. He worked feebly and +with great effort and managed to maintain his rôle of semi-elderly +invalid who was doing his best. + +He was working with a gang of other men shovelling sand into a cart when +Silver Greeves came by with a basket of broth and oranges and a lovely +dolly for the little Mary who was now on the high road to recovery. + +The tramp paused in the monotony of his service. He put in regularly one +shovelful to the other men’s two. He always paused longest for +interruptions and rested his weary back. The other men paused also and +watched the progress of the lithe girl as she stepped down the roughly +cobbled path and entered the cottage. + +“That’s that girl from the Silver family,” said one of the men. “Take +notice of her? She’s been comin’ down to that wop’s house every day. +She’s been takin’ care of the sick kid.” + +“Well, they’d oughtta do things like that. They got aplenty ain’t they? +Don’t we keep ’em in cash with our labor? They couldn’t sell this sand +if we didn’t shovel it, could they? She’d make a pretty hand shovellin’ +sand, now, wouldn’t she? How would she live if we didn’t shovel her sand +fer her? I ask you.” + +“Oh, they got aplenty else ’thout sand anymore. They got stacks and +stacks of money. I heard they got sompin like a million fer the railroad +right of way. She’d oughtta take notice of the poor folks. I guess that +family wasn’t named Silver fer nothin’.” + +The tramp gazed steadily at the door where Silver had disappeared and +began to turn around what he heard in his cunning old brain. He let his +companions heave five shovelfuls before he started in again at a rapidly +diminishing sand pile, and his face wore a thoughtful look. Whenever he +stopped to rest he eyed the house where Silver had entered. When she +finally came out, lingering on the doorstep to talk with the smiling +dark-eyed mother he took another siesta and studied the scene carefully, +taking in details of dress and height and coloring. Then his cunning +eyes dropped to his task again and lifted for an instant to meet hers +only when Silver passed opposite to him, as she smiled and greeted them +all in a friendly way. + +“Some gurrul!” remarked a short burly man with red curls and a brogue, +“the master must be proud o’her. I guess he’d not take all his millions +for the likes of her!” + +“Yes, she’s a fine lady! But it’ll take a plenty millions to keep her in +all she’ll want,” grouched the other man. + +“Well, what’s a lady!” said the tramp as he lifted another shovelful of +sand. + +Down by the bridge Silver met Bannard and lingered there to watch the +little fishes darting in the stream. She had much to tell him of the +condition of some of the families she had visited. Sam was bringing his +wife over from Italy, and Carmen was having trouble getting his +citizen’s papers. Something about his questionnaire during the war. He +had not understood enough English to make out what they were asking him, +and he couldn’t write it himself, so some absurd mistake had been made. +Could he see the County Judge and straighten it out? + +Bannard finally turned and walked back with her through Sweetbriar lane, +into Aunt Katie’s for a moment to get a taste of the honey cakes she was +baking, and so on through the hedge into the sweet old Silver garden. +They lingered talking beside the sun-dial, tracing the quaint figures on +its face, watching the slow, sure march of the sun from point to point. + +There was powdered gold in the air and sunshine, powdered fire +shimmering over the tulip bed. The birds sang with joyous abandon as +though they would split their throats. Greeves looked out of his window +from his work, and his heart was at rest. That was a nice fellow. A bit +wrong in his head knowledge, and, his beliefs, but all right in his +heart and living. And after all if one could believe in the old legends +they were a wonderful safeguard. Far be it from him to disturb such +saintly faith. He would be careful what he said about unbelief. It +almost seemed as if what the minister had said had been true. Things had +settled down into a pleasanter way. The siege was lifting, but of course +God had nothing to do with it. It was merely the adjusting of all +elements to environment. It was sound philosophy anyway, to be patient +and wait for things to adjust themselves. Then he went back to his +preface which he was writing with great care. + +“If the present advance of science—” How was it he had meant to phrase +that sentence? + +And down in the garden the two had sauntered into the summer house and +were telling each other about their early life. It is a beautiful stage +of friendship when two who admire one another reach that point. It is +the building of a foundation for something deeper and truer. + +Well for them that the garden was located behind the house, with tall +hedges surrounding, and that neither the Weldons nor Vandemeeters could +penetrate therein, and only the kindly eye of Aunt Katie knew where they +were, or the whole town would have been agog. They found so much to talk +about that the minister forgot to go back to the Flats until the lunch +bell rang in the Silver house, and then he made his sudden apologies and +departed hastily over the fence. Silver went in with flushed cheeks and +bright eyes thinking how wonderfully life was opening out for her who +had been but such a short time before bereft and alone. + +Athalie came home from school quite pleasant and tractable. She had an +armful of books and she seemed interested in them. Her father looked the +books over and talked with her a little about them, gave her a few hints +how to concentrate in studying, and went away to his library again +entirely satisfied that he was doing the father-part as well as could be +expected. Perhaps after he got used to it it wouldn’t be so bad after +all. + +Meantime Athalie up in her room was working with needle and thread and +scissors to transform several of her new frocks against the coming of +Friday evening, while her books lay in a heap on the floor not to be +touched until the next morning, and her thoughts were wandering a +woolgathering. + + * * * * * + +About half a mile below the bridge at the lower end of Silver Sands, to +the left of the road where it curves around to go to Frogtown there +rises a little hill. On its top, set in a thick grove of maples, birches +and oaks with plenty of undergrowth, there stands a little one-roomed +hut. It had been built of field stones a long time ago, when the grove +was a big woods of sugar maples, perhaps for a shelter at sugaring off +time. There was a fireplace at one end, a little prison-like window and +a sagging wooden door. The window was boarded up and the door had stood +ajar for years. The boys of the town used to use it for a rendezvous but +had long since deserted it for newer quarters below the bridge where +some enterprising seniors in high school had built a camp among the +pines. + +The tramp had sighted this empty dwelling, and after watching it for +several days and sampling its hospitality at night, he took up his abode +therein, repaired the door, unnoticeably, left the window boarded up, +and built his meagre fires at night when no one would see the smoke. +There was plenty of wood around for the rustling. + +The floor was the bare earth, and in one corner a pile of leaves and +moss made a bed, with an old blanket he had taken from somebody’s +clothes line down in the village. In a big packing box that he had found +behind the cannery quite early one morning, he kept his frugal stores: +eggs, butter, bread, tobacco, half a ham, and a big black bottle. The +top of the box served as his table. Here he crept at evening when his +shovelling was done, taking care to arrive by a circuitous route, and to +close the door before lighting his bit of a candle. Here at evening he +sat with his pipe and pondered many a scheme, or went over and over the +various mistakes and failures of his life which had landed him in +confinement within stone walls for a time, and searched how he might +carry something through yet again. + +That same night he crept to his lair and sat on the sheltered side +looking away toward the village thinking. Through its nest of trees he +could see the white pillars of the Silver house standing as it did at +the eminence of the street, lifting its head just a trifle above all the +other houses. As the twilight deepened and darkness gave opportunity for +Sin to walk abroad unrecognized, he loitered down the hill and crept by +unused paths into the town where he had a few patrons who kept their +little odd jobs for him at night. They talked about him in their sewing +circle and said he was a self-respecting man, and one had given him a +shirt, and one some pairs of much darned socks and they talked about +helping him to find a place to board where he could look after the +furnace for his keep when winter came on. Drab he was as he walked along +in the shadow side of the moonlit street, and drab he faded into space +when he came to a high hedge. Carefully he stole around the old Silver +place, and felt out the garden paths, rubber tired he surrounded the +spot and peered in cautiously at all the windows. He studied the lines +of Patterson Greeves’ thoughtful face as he sat at his desk working on +that preface, and judged it cannily with the eye of a specialist. He put +his ugly mask to the very pane of glass beside Silver’s head as she sat +reading in the big easy chair at the other end of the library. He +cautiously searched the darkened drawing room with a pocket flash, and +he took in the dining room, especially the silver on the sideboard while +Anne and Molly were setting the table for breakfast. The kitchen was not +so easy, but he managed it while Joe and Molly and Anne sat eating their +dinner. + +“I thought I saw a face at the window, Joe, go out and see if someone is +looking for you,” said Anne in her calm voice, and Joe shoved back his +chair noisily and went out, but came back presently and reported that +Anne was “seein’ things.” + +“It must be the young huzzy upstairs is gettin’ on yer nerves, Anne.” + +“The young lady’s all right the last two days,” said Anne complacently, +Athalie’s church going and willingness to go to school had done much +toward mollifying Anne. “And _I saw_ a face at the window. It was likely +Jock Miller brought back that sickle you lent him. I’m not so old that I +can’t tell a face at the window when I see it.” + +Back in the lilac bushes among the lilies-of-the-valley a drab shape +huddled, listened, and presently shrunk away, puzzling. That wasn’t the +young lady he saw pass the fire house that day. Were there two? + +For the rest of that week life settled down into the grooves of what a +well regulated family life should be and Patterson Greeves took heart of +hope and plunged into his book. Athalie had been regular at school, late +only once, and seemed to be giving actual attention to her studies. She +professed to be deeply interested in education for the first time in her +life, and took her books upstairs to her room immediately after dinner +at night. Her father began to hope that perhaps she had inherited his +love of study. Several times she came to him with some question about +her lessons. Usually some unusual question. She was sharp as a needle. +Would he ever learn to be proud of her? If she only weren’t so fat, so +sort of fleshly. + +Friday morning as Athalie was about to start for school she stepped into +the dining room where Anne was crumbing the table preparatory to taking +off the breakfast cloth and said loftily: + +“Oh, Truesdale! Have plenty of cake ready this afternoon. I’m bringing +guests.” + +“There’s always plenty of cake in the house,” said Anne stiffly. She +wasn’t sure she cared for being called Truesdale. Of course it was +English, but she had an inkling that in this case it was intended for +patronage. + +“I mean—_lots_!” said Athalie. “There’ll be about twelve of us +altogether.” + +“There’s always cake enough in the house for twenty if need be!” Anne +froze. + +“They’ll all be here for dinner I think,” added Athalie as she closed +the door and ran down the steps, “I told dad about it.” + +Now it happened that “dad” had gone to the city on the seven o’clock +train to consult a book in the library. + +“It’s strange he said nothing to me about it. He’s always that +particular about making trouble,” said Anne as she reported the invasion +to Molly. + +“Aw, that’s all right, Anne,” said Molly cheerfully, “you’d oughtta be +glad she’s going to be friendly with the townspeople. We’ll just get up +a real dinner Anne, and let her have a good time. The master’ll like it. +He seems real satisfied with the way she’s took to school.” + +“Yes,” agreed Anne grudgingly, “but I’d a been better satisfied if the +master had a spoke to me hisself. Howsomever!” + +The house was always spick and span. Anne saw to it that there were +flowers in the vases, and the best doilies as if for a company of +ladies. + +“Because them childer has eyes and tongues in their heads,” she +explained to Molly who came in to consult her as to whether she should +make hard sauce or boiled sauce for the bread pudding that was destined +for lunch. + +Athalie telephoned at noon that she was not coming home to lunch. + +“She’ll be taking it with some of the girls!” she said happily, “it’s +nice to think of her gettin’ in and bein’ like other girls. Mebbe she’ll +get rid of her queer hair and eyebrows some day. I think she might be +passable lookin’ if she didn’t dress so queer! Now them dresses he +bought her. They looked real simple, but when she gets um on they +somehow look diffrunt. But I’m sorry she didn’t come home, I wanted to +ask her more about who’s coming? How’ll we know to set table?” + +“Oh, there’ll be time when she comes! Half past three is aplenty.” So +they set about the delightful task of getting up a young dinner party +again in the old house which had not happened since master Pat’s +twenty-first birthday. + + * * * * * + +It was nearing three o’clock when a taxi from the city drew up at the +door causing great sensation over at the Vandemeeter’s. They had seen +Mr. Greeves go away early in the morning. They could not figure out who +this might be. + +A young woman got out and paid the driver, preceding him up the walk to +the house as he carried two armfuls of luggage. + +“She’s all tails around her feet,” said grandma Vandemeeter, “and I can +see myself without any glasses that she’s got a painted face even if she +has got a mosquito netting over her hat.” + +“This is Marcella Mason,” announced the stranger as Anne opened the +door. “I suppose you’re expecting me. I’ll just have my bags carried up +to my room at once. I’m frightfully dusty. Hot water please. I suppose +you have plenty of it here in the country? If not please heat it at +once. I’m accustomed to a hot bath.” + +A silver dollar skillfully manipulated slid into Anne’s astonished hand +and out again to the floor quicker than it went in. She stepped back +indignantly, with blazing cheeks and snapping eyes. + +“Is that your money, Miss? You dropped it!” she said crisply. + +“Why, that’s your tip!” laughed the girl, “don’t you want it?” + +“Tip?” repeated Anne with her chin aloft, “tip? I don’t understand you. +You’d best pick it up, Miss or it’ll get lost. You can step this way.” +She led the way up the wide stair, thinking rapidly. It was not in the +possibility that this upstart should occupy one of the best rooms. Anne +led her down the back hall to a little bedroom off the sewing room where +a seamstress sometimes stayed. Neat and trim it was with a single iron +bed, a bit of a bureau and a stationary washstand. Silver house was not +behind the times in the matter of conveniences. + +“You can put your things down on the chair,” said Anne indifferently. + +The stranger advanced and surveyed the room. + +“Oh, I’m afraid this room won’t do for me!” she looked around. “No pier +glass. And don’t you have private baths? What other rooms have you? I +came first to make my choice. This seems to be a large house.” + +“This is the only one, Miss. You can take it or leave it as you like. +I’m busy just now. You’ll have to excuse me. Miss Athalie will be home +from school in a short while.” + +“School! You don’t mean to tell me she goes to school! That’s rich! She +swore she’d never enter a school room again!” + +Anne gave her a withering glance and departed in high dudgeon. + +“You should see the huzzy now!” she told Molly. “Rings on her fingers +and jewels on her toes. And the impertinence of her! Offering me money +like a porter in a hotel. Well, I wonder what the master’ll be saying +now!” + +“The master just called up whilst you was upstairs. He says he may miss +the first train and not to wait for him, to go right on and have dinner. +I guess he thought he’d like to get out of the fuss of it.” + +“Well, I shouldn’t wonder! I wish Miss Athalie was here. Miss Silver +hasn’t got back from the Flats yet, has she? She’s a good girl. She +would go see to that thing upstairs. Keep watch for her comin’ and tell +me. I’ll warn her afore she goes up the stair.” + +But Silver was helping an Italian woman to make a little dress for her +baby and did not come home until five o’clock. Before that time many +things had happened. + +Before Athalie arrived the three o’clock train had come in and a troop +of young people, shouting, laughing, hooting at every person they +passed, criticizing the houses, jeering at the stores, came pouring down +the street. Their baggage followed in Hoskin’s express wagon, with two +men on behind to help and observe. The girls were attired in most +striking costumes, and lolled on the boys’ arms, pulled off each other’s +hats and threw them into the street, and in general conducted themselves +with great indiscretion. The villagers came to their front windows in +astonishment and deep disapproval and one woman even telephoned for the +police who happened to be away from his headquarters at that moment. + +They stormed up on the Silver front veranda like a hurricane, having +enquired of everyone they met where “Greeveses” lived, and while they +awaited the answer to their continuous and imperious knocking, two girls +and a young man had a skirmish in the yard incidentally breaking off +three of Joe’s most cherished hyacinth blooms. + +Then down the stairs with boisterous laughter tripped the young woman +who had arrived in a taxi; and opened the door before the scandalized +Anne could get farther than the pantry. + +“Oh, boy! I guess I put one over on you this time!” screamed the girl. + +The horde swarmed in, flinging caps and handbags in every direction. + +“Here’s Marcy! I say that isn’t fair, Marcy! You got the best room! You +always do.” + +“Come on up and take your choice. There’s not so awful many as I thought +there’d be. The old prune that showed me up gave me a sort of servant’s +room, but I got rid of her and went around till I found what I wanted. I +take the left hand front, and I’ve got my door locked so you needn’t try +to get in. I’ll take Maebeth with me and nobody else. There’s plenty of +room. I’ve been everywhere. You two girls better take that other front +room. There’s somebody’s things in there, but you shouldn’t worry. +Possession is how many points? I forget. Violet better go with Ath. Her +things are in that second door. Say, boys, did you bring the booze? +Plenty of it? Isn’t that great. We’ll have a real time! You boys better +go up to the third story. There’s five big rooms up there! Come on Beth, +let’s hurry and get dressed before Ath comes. She goes to school! Isn’t +that the limit? She must have some old grouch of a governor! Don’t say +anything. His clothes must be in this closet and I’m going down to +dinner in _his dress suit_—!” + +“Oh Marcy! Do you _dare_, Marcy?” + +“My soul!” said Anne Truesdale, “what’ll we do? Do you think maybe I +better send for the minister? Oh, I wish you had told me master Pat was +on the phone.” + +“But you didn’t know it then.” + +“Well, no, but I coulda told him about there being company.” + +“Well, you didn’t. I guess that harum scarum’ll be home pretty soon. +There she comes now, running! I’d give her a piece of my mind, I +certainly would!” + + + + + XXV + + +But before Anne could get into the hall Athalie had stormed up the +stairs and there ensued such greetings as made the old house sound like +a vaudeville show behind the scenes. The girls in various stages of +disarray opened doors to call to her, the boys issued from a cloud of +cigarette smoke on the third floor by way of the old mahogany stair rail +and came shooting into their midst amid howls and screams and pretended +running to cover. Anne hurried up to do something about it and resembled +an old hen running from the person who was trying to catch it while she +clucked at her young to get out of the way but she made no impression +whatever on the young people until suddenly a great stalwart youth +discovered her in his way and stooping over said: + +“Here, auntie, what are you doing here!” and picking her up like a child +ran fleetly down the stairs with her in his arms, depositing her on the +console in the hall and vanishing up again in three strides. + +Anne, when she recovered her breath crept fearsomely into the pantry +white and spent, her dignity drooping like a broken feather, and while +she stood panting, her hand on her heart, her back against the swing +door, a gentle hand pushed it, and Silver’s voice said: + +“It’s only me, Anne. What is the matter upstairs?” + +“It’s a ’ouse party!” sobbed Anne, and buried her face in Silver’s neck. +“They’ve took the master’s room, and Miss Lavinia’s. I don’t know what +the master’ll say when he comes. And your things! They maul everything +they lay their hands on, Miss Silver. Oh, I oughtta have prevented this! +I oughtta! I oughtta! I’m no housekeeper at all to let this come behind +his back. I’m getting old! I’m no good any more—” + +“There, there, Anne, don’t feel so badly. There isn’t any harm done. +They are only a parcel of kids out having a good time, and it’s gone to +their heads. Don’t worry. Father won’t blame you. It’s Athalie, I +suppose. Let’s try to see what we can do to make everything move off +quietly. How long are they going to stay? Just for dinner?” + +“I don’t know. I don’t know! She said a ’ouse party, that first one that +come. How long does that last? As long as the ’ouse stays together I’m +thinking, and that’ll not be long if they carry on as they have been +goin’. They’ve slid down my nice polished stair rails, and there’ll be +scratches on everything. And I’ve kept it all so nice all the years! Oh +dear, oh dear!” + +“Never mind, Anne, it won’t be half so bad as it seems. Cheer up and get +dinner ready. Are you going to try to have tea?” + +“Deary knows! Miss Athalie ordered cake made before she left this +morning. And me athinkin’ she was that good a girl to please her father +an’ invite the neighbors’ children home from school to have a good time +an’ make ’em forget how she treated ’em Saturday afternoon!” + +“Well, never mind. I’ll go upstairs and see if I can’t stop that noise.” + +Silver went, but her arrival proved no more than if she had been a fly +on the wall. The girls and boys were having a scuffle in the hall, and +one girl’s dress was half pulled off of her. They did not even glance at +Silver as she hurried by them to take refuge in her room and think what +she ought to do. But two other girls were in there attired in lacy +lingerie and one was smoking a cigarette. + +“I beg your pardon,” she said pleasantly, “I think someone has made a +mistake. This room is occupied. If you will let me help you gather up +your things I will show you to another room.” + +Silver did this, not because she was so disturbed at having her room +taken as because Anne had felt so strongly about Miss Lavinia’s sacred +chamber being desecrated. + +The girls simply stared. + +“Who are you?” asked the girl who was powdering her face at the glass. + +“I am Miss Greeves. Athalie’s sister. You must be her school friends.” + +“Oh, I know who you are. You’re that baby that was given away. Your name +isn’t Greeves at all. It’s Jarvis. Ath told us all about you. You +needn’t bother about us, she put us here and we’d rather stay. You can +take your own things out if you want to.” The girl turned back to the +mirror with an air of having dismissed her. Silver reflected for an +instant. What chance had she to maintain her rights against such +insolence? She would frustrate her desire of quieting the company and +getting control of things if she was not a perfect lady. She was amazed +that girls could say such things. There must be a whole school of them, +bred in the same atmosphere. + +The color had fluttered into her face at the insulting words, but her +sense of humor came to her assistance and as once before she had foiled +insolence by her silvery laugh, so now she let it forth again, until the +visiting girls turned and stared. They even grew a little red. They had +intended to make her angry, and lo she laughed! + +With a quick turn Silver went out of the room and closed the door. + +“Boys!” she said placing a firm hand on the arm of the scuffling +gentlemen nearest her, “I know where there’s some awfully good cake. If +you’ll follow me and be perfectly quiet about it I’ll get it for you!” + +Instantly every boy of the six was surrounding her and clamoring with +all his might, even attempting to lift her off her feet and bear her +down the stairs. + +But there was something about Silver when she chose to be so that awed +every boy in the vicinity. Her spirit face suddenly could become grave +and stern, with a power of command that arrested the attention and +demanded respect. + +“No, you’ve got to be perfectly quiet!” she said smilingly, “the spell +won’t work unless you do! No quiet, no cake!” + +Athalie had forgotten when she summoned all these gorgeous young +hoodlums to dissipate her gloom, and informed them well about her +unbeloved sister, that Silver was a girl and that a boy will “fall for +anything” sometimes, as she said with a shrug that very evening. To the +amazement of the other girls the boys became tame at once and Silver led +them all off quietly down the stairs and to the drawing room where she +rang the bell and said in low tone: + +“Anne, dear, would you bring that cake now?” + +The “Anne dear” got it. Anne brought the cake in bountiful supply, and +Silver improving the brief and shining hour got all their names and made +quite a little ceremony learning them so she would remember. + +The boys were quite pleased with her, and she held them there with talk +about things boys like. Dogs and athletics, and national games. She had +seen some big ones. She talked familiarly about some of the fraternities +they longed to be bid to join, she spoke of college, and with just that +rare flattery of smile and camaraderie that touches a boy of seventeen +and brings him to her feet, she sat on a low divan and chatted with them +bringing burst after burst of gruff laughter, and winning them +thoroughly as her friends. + +In the midst of an exciting recital of how a famous baseball nine got +ahead of an opposing team that was employing unfair means to win the +game, they all became aware of a hostile presence standing on the +stairs. + +Athalie had come down in gorgeous array in a brief frock of gold tissue +strapped over the shoulders and down the skirt in floating panels with +peacock feathers. Around her forehead was bound a frontlet of green and +blue sequins, and the gold tissue of which her stockings were composed +was so exceedingly sheer as to give the effect of bare skin above the +tiny jeweled gold slippers. Nobody would have bought such a rig for a +young girl, but Lilla had been regal in it once upon a time, and the +long pendulum earrings that dangled from the ears of her daughter and +gave her such an Egyptian-princess effect had been especially designed +in jewels to match the costume for some great occasion. It might be +possible that Lilla on the high seas knew nothing of the whereabouts of +some of her most valued possessions. Athalie had helped herself as she +chose before her departure. + +But Athalie’s face was marked with disdain, jealousy, hate in startling +lines. Silver arose quickly with a smile that faded as she saw the +girl’s fixed look as if she were not there at all. Athalie was +determined to ignore her among these her friends. How could she put up +any kind of a front against that? And yet she must for her father’s +sake, and keep things within bounds if possible until his return. It +occurred to her that she might telephone Bannard and ask him to dinner. +He would help her and know what to do, but supposing anything unforeseen +should occur, anything out of the conventional order, that should get +abroad, it might not be well that the minister should be known to have +been there. She had been brought up to think of those things. She had +not been a minister’s granddaughter for nothing. Therefore she shut her +firm young lips and determined to fight it out alone. + +She was wearing a crêpe de chine dress of soft gray the right tint to +bring out the pink in her cheeks, and the gold in her hair and lashes. +It was simple of line and girded with a sash of itself heavily fringed +and knotted at one side hanging a little below the deep hem of her +skirt. She wore no ornaments and the elbow sleeves and round neck were +without decoration. It was scarcely a dinner gown for a formal affair, +yet she could not have changed if she wished since the invasion of her +room, and she would not if she could. There were more important affairs +on hand. + +Her sister’s attitude plainly dismissed her, but she rose and +deliberately turned her conversation to one of the boys nearest her, +ignoring the look, and finally Athalie spoke, as one speaks to an +inferior: + +“You don’t need to eat with us Alice Jarvis. It will make an uneven +number. We have just men enough to go round.” + +“Oh, that’s all right,” said Silver with a careless smile, “father’ll be +here pretty soon you know,” and went on talking to the admiring boy, +although her heart was beating wildly and she wished herself far away +from this scene of dissension and frivolity. + +“Oh, very well. Suit yourself!” said Athalie with her haughtiest voice, +and began to devote herself to the entire group, and attract them all +from Silver. + +Silver slipped out of the room and went back upstairs. If she could keep +the bunches of girls and boys apart till dinner was ready it might help. +She went from room to room offering help. Had they all the towels they +needed? Could she help them with their dresses, or play ladies’ maid in +any way? Would they like ice water? Her insistent, pleasant +serviceableness met with no response except silence. They whispered +behind her back and exchanged glances. She saw that the way ahead was to +be most unpleasant, but she went steadily on ignoring the meaning of +their attitude. She was the pleasant elder sister waiting on her younger +sister’s guests. + +But she had committed what was to them an unpardonable sin. She had +taken their devoted admirers away from them and interested them herself. +That could never be forgiven. + +Silver was very tired when at last the scene changed to the dinner +table. She had placed herself at the head and was there as they came +into the room, acting the part of hostess. Athalie stopped and looked +furiously at her, but finally decided to get her revenge some other way +and leaving the other end seat unoccupied proceeded to seat her guests +to suit her own purposes. + +The chairs were all filled but one. + +“Marcy! Where are you? You sit at the corner next dad’s seat. Hurry. I’m +starved.” + +Marcella Mason who had just tripped down stairs and was entering from +the hall paused a moment lifting up a monocle on a long silk cord. + +“Good evening, gents and women!” she saluted elegantly, “so glad you all +could come!” + +Every eye turned toward the doorway and then a shout arose gradually +growing into a roar. + +“Marcy! Marcy! Look at Marcy!” + +For Marcella Mason was attired in Patterson Greeves’ full dress suit, +broad white shirt front, patent leather shoes and all, and looked the +very personification of impudence and daring. + +Silver and Anne Truesdale had agreed before dinner was served that +whatever happened they would keep their composure and not look shocked +nor horrified. Poor Anne Truesdale scuttled hurriedly into the pantry. +This was too much for her. Silver struggled with her irritation and +mastered a grave little smile. It was rude of course, impudent, but only +a prank after all. It was not for her to deal with a thing like this. +Her father would be here pretty soon. Oh, that he might arrive at once! + +From the start the hilarity was uproarious. Several times bits of bread +went whizzing back and forth across the board that had for years seen +gathered around it grave and dignified and honored men and women. Anne +trembled for the delicate long stemmed glasses in which the delicious +fruit nectar was served. + +The dinner progressed through a rich cream soup, roast chicken, with +vegetables, home-made ice cream with crushed strawberries, and great +plates of delectable cake. + +The little cups of black coffee were being served when Athalie reached +under her chair and brought forth a lacquered box which she passed +around. Cigarettes! Strange Silver had not thought that might happen! +And the guests were all taking them, girls too, and lighting them. +Little curls of smoke rose delicately in the stately dining room, and +six little flappers pursed their painted lips and blew six more wreaths +of smoke into the air. + +Silver took her coffee cup and toyed with it thoughtfully. What would +her father say to this? She was not quite sure whether the time had come +for her to take a stand or not. But when at a signal from Athalie one of +the boys arose and stepping out of the room brought back two tall +bottles of dark liquid, then she knew her time had come. He had pulled +out the cork and was filling an empty glass by one of the girl’s plates. +The fumes of the liquor arose hotly to her sensitive nostrils. What +chance had she against so many? Her face was white and stern like a +spirit as she rose from her chair and faced them. “Stop!” she commanded +to the astonished boy who held the bottle, “Joe, will you remove these +bottles at once? And Anne, will you kindly take that tray and gather up +the cigarettes and throw them out? My father does not allow such things +to go on in his house nor around his table!” she said addressing the +company in a clear ringing voice. “If you want to smoke and drink you +must go elsewhere!” + +Then Athalie arose suddenly with her glass of water in her hand and +flung its contents at her sister. + +“Shut up!” she said roughly. “It’s none of your business what we do. +This is my party and I’m the _daughter_ in this house!” + +“_Athalie!_ What does all this mean?” + +Patterson Greeves was standing in the doorway his hat still on his head, +his hands still cluttered with packages of books as he had come in, his +face stern with anger. + + + + + XXVI + + +The entire company turned in startled surprise and Anne and Joe scuttled +furtively over to stand by him. They had been plainly frightened by a +situation that they knew they could not control. + +“Oh, dad, is that you? I didn’t hear you come in. I’m glad you’ve +arrived. It was naughty of you to be late the first night of my house +party,” broke forth Athalie nonchalantly. “Come and let me introduce you +to my guests.” + +Patterson Greeves made no move to go forward. He handed his packages to +the attendant Joe, and took off his hat and gloves, still standing where +he had first appeared, still looking the company over, person by person, +his eyes growing sterner, his mouth more displeased. + +“I do not understand,” he said coming forward enquiringly, giving a +searching glance into each impudent countenance, guest by guest. + +“Let me have that bottle please!” He took the big bottle from the +unresisting hand of the once arrogant youth and lifted it near to his +nose. + +“Where did you get this liquor may I ask? I’m afraid somebody has been +breaking the laws of the land! I shall have to put you all under arrest +until we investigate. Joe, will you kindly call up the chief of police?” +The entire company of would-be revellers arose in consternation and +looked to right and left for a place of exit, but Anne Truesdale, her +cheeks flaming an angry crimson, her eyes like two sword points barred +the way of the pantry, and the angry householder and his ancient +servitor stood in the wide doorway leading to the hall. They began to +steal furtively behind one another and sidle toward the pantry fancying +Anne less redoubtable than their inhospitable host. + +“Why dad! I think you’re horrid!” broke forth Athalie, her lips +trembling. “Why, _dad_!” + +“Be still Athalie! You may go to your room! You have broken all three of +your promises. I have nothing more to say to you at present. You know +what the consequence was to be.” + +“But dad—” + +“Leave the room!” + +And Athalie actually left it. + +The moment was awful. Even Silver felt sorry for them. + +“Now, ladies and gentlemen, while we are waiting for the officer let me +get your names and addresses,” said Patterson Greeves his class room +tone upon him, as he brought out pencil and note book. “Your name sir?” +He turned to the first white-faced boy, the one who had held the bottle +as he entered. + +The boy lifted a face from which the fun had fled and tried to brazen it +out. + +“Oh, cert., my name’s Brett Hanwood. Hamilton Prep pitcher you know.” + +Straight around the table he went writing down carefully the addresses, +asking a searching question now and again. When he reached Marcella +Mason he eyed her curiously for an instant, felt of the sleeve of her +coat, a flicker of amusement passing over his otherwise grave face and +said: + +“And this—ah—gentleman?” + +Marcella winced. + +“This completes the list I think.” + +Patterson Greeves lifted his pencil and counted, “four ladies and six—” +his eye was on Marcella, “men! The ladies of course we will not hold +accountable. And now as it is not convenient for me to entertain guests +tonight they will be returned to their homes or their schools as the +case may be. The men—” again he glanced at Marcella, “will await the +officer’s verdict. Doubtless they will be held till the trial, or +possibly let out on bail if they can furnish sufficient. The state is +laying stress on this matter of prohibition just now and—!” + +“Oh!” gasped Marcella and collapsed in sobs. + +“Now,” said Greeves, “if you four young ladies will just go into the +library I will call up your school and arrange for your return.” + +“Oh—h-h-h!” murmured the girls in a panic. + +Just then the officer was brought in by Joe, and Greeves explained to +him in a low tone. Then he turned back to his frightened victims. “You +four girls may come into the library now.” + +The girls huddled in a mass and followed him. The sound of hasty feet +scuttling after and Marcella arrived red and teary. + +“I—I—I’m a girl too!” + +“Oh,” said Greeves surveying her through his glasses, “curious specimen +I must say. Man and girl! Well, well! Which school do you attend?” + +Marcella bore the sarcasm meekly and tried to hide her borrowed plumage +behind the other girls. They made a curious group in their wild young +flapper frocks with their plump, bare shoulders shivering in the shadows +of the big old room while they waited for Patterson Greeves to get long +distance. They glanced mutely into one another’s eyes and thought of the +school records already against them. + +“Is this Briardale school for girls? Is this the principal? Let me speak +to the principal please. I have four young ladies here in my house who +claim to belong to your school. They have been attempting to have a +hooch party during my absence. Can you tell me where they are supposed +to be tonight? Shall I return them to you? Their names are—” + +He consulted his paper and read off the names. The girls stood and +shivered as if he were striking them. + +“I beg your pardon. Did you say Miss Mason was at home at the bedside of +her sick mother? Yes? And this Violet? Her sister is being married? Oh! +I see!” His eyes dwelt mercilessly on the trembling Violet. “Having her +eyes examined? I see. And the other one? Oh, she was taken sick and was +sent home? I see. Then you would prefer that I return these young ladies +to their various homes—” + +“Oh, no, no!” broke in Marcella, “my father would half kill me! I’d +rather go back to school.” + +“Mine would take my next month’s allowance away and it’s spent already,” +wept Violet. Then hushed to hear what was being said on the telephone. + +“You say this Violet lives in our neighboring city? And Miss Mason in a +suburb? Where? Oh, Hazelbrook. Yes, I know it quite well. I’m not sure +but her father is an old friend of mine. Walter Mason? That’s the one. +Very well, then. I quite agree with you that these two should go to +their homes. I will personally escort them there at once. The other two +you would prefer to have return to the school tonight? Just how far is +that from the Junction? I see. No, there is no train out of here until +ten o’clock. That would miss connection. I think it would be better to +get an automobile. Yes, I have a reliable man and his wife, old trusted +servants. I can send them in their care. Oh, that’s all right. I’m only +glad to get it all so easily arranged. They will be there tonight. It +may be late. I may be delayed in finding a car, but they will arrive, +don’t worry. Thank you! Good night!” + +The girls were trembling and furious, but looking in his determined face +they saw they had no way of escape. Especially did Marcella quail as she +looked down at her borrowed garments and thought of her father’s face +when he should hear the report of his old friend. + +Patterson Greeves hung up the receiver, rang for Anne Truesdale, and +said: + +“Now, young ladies, you will go up stairs in charge of Mrs. Truesdale +and find your belongings. We shall be ready to start in twenty minutes.” + +He herded them to the stairs, and went into the dining room to consult +with the chief of police who had the bottle of liquor in his hand and +was asking keen questions with eyes that were used to reading human +countenances and penetrating human masks. + +After a brief consultation between the two men, the uncomfortable boys +were called into the library and subjected to a telephone conversation +much like that which the girls had passed through, except that it was +decided by the headmaster of the school that the boys should be returned +in a body under police escort, and that their fathers should be at once +summoned from their various homes. The boys looked even more hunted than +the girls had done. They perhaps had more reason to fear both parental +and scholastic discipline. + +The boys were marched out of the house at once with hastily packed suit +cases and sober looks on their faces. A grocery truck was requisitioned, +the boys piled in, and six men, two of them regular police aides, the +other four pressed into service from the fire house with hastily +improvised uniforms, climbed in after them, a man to a boy. There was no +escape. + +The guards hugely enjoyed the occasion. They were getting a night’s +excitement and a long ride free. It would be something to talk about at +the fire house for many a day. Uri Weldon had been the first one to +volunteer. He had no time even to telephone to Lizette before leaving. +But then Lizette was not one to worry about him. + +In a quarter of an hour an automobile arrived and two unhappy maidens +with handkerchiefs to their eyes stole out and crept into the back seat. +Molly in a flannel petticoat and an extra sweater under her long winter +coat, climbed fearfully in between them, and Joe took the front seat +beside the driver. They moved off hurriedly through the night and +presently Patterson Greeves and two silent, angry, frightened girls +emerged from the house and walked down the street to the ten o’clock +train for the city. + +“Well, they’re all getting away early!” sighed mother Vandemeeter. “Now +we can go to bed in peace. I was afraid they were going to have a dance +and that would have been so out of place in the old Silver house. I just +couldn’t have gone to sleep for thinking.” + +“I don’t know as they could have gone much later!” said grandma, getting +stiffly up from her padded rocking chair and tottering toward her +downstairs bedroom door. “This is the last train, isn’t it?” + +Said Pristina up at her top bedroom window: + +“Now! I wonder which one he is taking to the train!” + +Silver and Anne Truesdale busied themselves in putting the house to +rights and gathering up the debris of the brief onslaught of the enemy. + +“Them old stemmed fruit cups was one of Miss Lavinia’s best prized set,” +Anne mourned. “To think one shoulda got broke tonight fer them little +fools. I almost just used the old sauce dishes and then I thought the +master might not like it!” + +“Never mind, Anne, what difference does a glass or two less make? +They’re gone. They might have broken more if they had stayed longer. It +looked to me as if they were out to break more than fruit glasses.” + +“Yes!” said Anne. “My soul! So that’s that!” + +Five hours later, Patterson Greeves, dismissing the car that had brought +him back from the city, walked up from the post office corner where he +had got out, and let himself silently into the house. Anne, released +from her vigil, turned over and murmured drowsily to herself again: + +“So that’s _that_!” + +In the wee small hours of the morning, with the east paling into pink, +the only two who had got any enjoyment out of the affair, Molly and Joe +on their way home from their long pilgrimage, sitting in the back seat +holding hands, and never saying a word, were having a second honeymoon. +Their first automobile ride! An all night affair. They were sore and +stiff with the long ride, next day. But what mattered it? They had +something to remember to their dying day. They might have other rides, +doubtless would when Patterson Greeves got time from parenting to buy a +car of his own, but never would any be like that first one, where the +moonlight lay like thin sheets of silver over the springtime world. + + + + + XXVII + + +Sometimes a storm will settle the atmosphere, for a time, and it seemed +as though Patterson Greeves’ summary dismissal of the house party had +really subdued Athalie and made life bearable, and even almost pleasant +at times in Silver house. + +There had been a stormy scene the next morning between Athalie and her +father, but his brief experience in dealing with the young hoodlums the +night before had seemed to give him confidence. He laid down the law in +no uncertain manner to the young woman, who went through various stages +of rebellion, to argument, then pleading and finally surrender. + +“But I told you about that house party when I first arrived and you +never said a word. You had no right to come in and raise a row +afterwards,” had been her opening sentence of the interview, spoken with +stormy eyes. + +She left the library with downcast countenance and a promise to +apologize to Silver for her insolence of the night before, a condition +of her further remaining in the house. + +“Although I hate her just as much as ever and always shall!” she added +as she was about to close the door behind her. + +Her father thought it as well to let this sentiment go unanswered, and +Athalie went up to Silver’s door, walked in without knocking and +announced: + +“My father sent me to apologize.” Having said it she slammed the door +after her and departed, leaving Silver no opportunity to reply. + +Thus matters had settled into a semblance of amity between them. The +conversation at the table consisted in animated talk between Silver and +her father, and absolute silence on the part of Athalie whenever her +sister was present. The two girls walked their separate ways as much as +if they were in separate spheres. Silver made one or two unsuccessful +attempts to bridge over this chasm between them and finally settled down +to forget it and be happy. + +Silver was living a rich and beautiful life, entering into the church +work of the new community with zest and rare tact, already beloved by +everyone, and spoken of often as being like her great aunt Lavinia. + +The minister was a frequent visitor at the house, going often on hikes +and fishing trips with Greeves, and spending long hours in discussions +on political, scientific, and on rare occasions, religious subjects; and +often Silver was a third member of the party on these occasions. But the +minister was a busy man and did not make his visits to Silver house too +noticeable. It was fortunate for him that Aunt Katie’s back fence joined +the Silver garden, and that the high hedge made passing possible without +calling the attention of the neighbors, for Silver Sands was very +jealous of their minister, and would never let him pay more attention to +one family or individual without an equal amount somewhere else. Much of +his friendship with Silver and her father was carried on in the evening, +or morning when they had taken a tramp to the woods and come on the +minister, also sometimes when there was no school, with the addition of +Blink and his dog. + +Athalie had begun to take a real if rather puzzled interest in high +school. At first she had attempted to become a leader, had even offered +to furnish cigarettes and teach the girls to smoke, telling them they +were far behind the times, but this resulted in an instant aloofness on +the part of the girls of the better class. Emily Bragg being the only +one who really accepted the offer and attached herself to Athalie like a +leech. + +This was no part of Athalie’s plan. She retired from the field as leader +and studied the situation for a few days. She began slowly to perceive +that she would never be accepted nor welcomed as long as she lifted her +own standards. She must accept the standards of Silver Sands or count +herself as an outsider forever. + +Experimentally she made an attack on the boys, and found to her +amazement that they too had standards. They might not be exactly the +same as their sisters’, and there were some few among them who were +ready surreptitiously to meet her half way and laugh with her, yet on +the whole, she was losing rather than gaining in influence, because for +some unaccountable reason even the boys seemed to feel that she was +unclassing herself. She sat down to ponder and decided that it was the +old-fashioned town and that it was hopeless. Whereupon she brushed her +hair a long time one day and began to curl the ends under and teach it +to be “put up.” She ceased even the surreptitious application of +cosmetics applied on the way to school since her father’s distinct +command had put an end to a careful make up before her own mirror. Her +eyebrows began to grow in their legitimate place, with a strange +likeness to Patterson Greeves’ and altogether she took on a more +wholesome look in every way. + +Saturday mornings, at Silver’s suggestion, Patterson Greeves made it a +point to be at home and to take Athalie to the country club for a round +of golf. Even when she grew more intimate with her school mates and +found some of her amusement in their Saturday picnics and little round +of simple parties she never failed to accept his invitations for golf +with alacrity. At such times there were flashes of something like real +affection in her eyes, although he was usually too preoccupied to notice +her. Indeed he would often have forgotten the engagement if Silver had +not reminded him. + +Greeves had sought to induce Athalie to eat more wholesome food. He had +hunted out a diet menu and urged it upon her, and in some degree she had +acquiesced, though he found her often with surreptitious boxes of candy, +or taking more cake at tea than the law allowed. It was not until Barry +again wielded his influence that she really got at it and began to show +a loss in weight. + +It was one Saturday morning that she had at last decided to try her +father on the subject of knickers. She came down nonchalantly arrayed in +them, and announced herself ready for the country club. Her father +looked up from a page he was correcting with an annoyed frown upon his +brow. He had forgotten that it was Saturday and was exceedingly anxious +to finish the theme he was at work upon. He took her in, knickers and +all, and laid down his papers with a stern look on his face. + +“You’ll have to go by yourself if you’re going to wear those things!” he +said sharply. “It’s strange you don’t know what a figure you cut in +them. You’re too stout for any such rig!” + +Athalie cut to the heart as she always was when her figure was +criticized, turned with a shrug and a flip and an “oh, very well!” and +flung out of the room. + +Her father settled back to his writing again, thinking that probably she +had gone to change, but as she did not return he became absorbed once +more and forgot all about it. + +Athalie meantime, had stamped out of the front door, down the street, +and was making her way swiftly to the old log in the woods, the only +refuge she knew outside the house where she would probably meet no one +and would be free to cry her heart out and wonder what had become of +Lilla. She had not had word from Lilla since they parted. + +She was sitting on the log weeping with long quivering sobs when +suddenly she felt a hand upon her shoulder and looking up she saw that +Barry was sitting beside her. + +“What’s the matter kid, has anything happened? Anyone been treating you +mean?” + +She lifted eyes that were brimming with tears, and there was something +childish and almost sweet about her helpless young despair. + +“You poor kid,” he said again, “what’s the matter?” + +He fished a moment in all his pockets, then brought out from the breast +pocket of his brown flannel shirt a neatly folded clean handkerchief. + +“I thought I had a blotter,” he remarked, and moving up gently proceeded +to wipe the tears from her eyes. + +In a moment he had her smiling through her tears with his bright +remarks. + +“Oh, there’s nothing much the matter,” said the girl relapsing into her +despondency. “I guess I’m only mad. Dad called me fat, and I hate it! He +said he wouldn’t go with me in my knickers. He said I looked awful!” + +Barry surveyed the garments in question. + +“Does make you look sort of wide,” he admitted. “Must be a lot easier to +walk in than skirts though. I like ’em. Why don’t you get thinner, kid? +It’s easy. I can tell you what to eat. We tried it one year when we +wanted to run. Listen. I’ll write it down for you.” + +“I hate spinach!” remarked Athalie coldly. + +“Oh, well, that doesn’t cut any ice kid! When you get skinny you’ll be +glad. Try a month and get weighed and see what a difference it makes.” + +They talked for sometime and Athalie finally agreed to try it. Then they +drifted into more personal talk and Barry said he wished she’d come and +see his mother sometime. + +Athalie told him about her mother being off in Europe somewhere. She +spoke drearily and the boy read much between the lines that she did not +dream she was telling. He was quick to read the heart-hunger and +yearning in her voice. There was much that was comforting in his cheery +tone and the way he talked of common things. Athalie soon sat up and +began to smile. Somehow the world looked brighter and life more possible +even without chocolates. Barry said again he wished she would come and +see his mother, and this time she said she would, and almost thought +perhaps she meant it. It would be interesting to see what kind of a +mother Barry had. + +Then suddenly the boy stood up quite sharply as if he had but just +thought about it. + +“But I oughtn’t to let you stay here,” he said. “Your father might not +like it. Why don’t you go home and put on the togs he likes. It won’t +take you long. Wait till you get skinny and then wear these again.” + +“They won’t fit me,” giggled Athalie. She was growing quite light +hearted. + +“Come on over this way. I’ll show you a short cut home, and you won’t +need to pass the fire house. There’s always a lot of crows there waiting +to pick the flesh off your bones.” + +“Maybe that would be quicker than dieting,” laughed Athalie brightly. + +“You bet it would!” said Barry, “we won’t try that way this time. They’d +make remarks if an angel flew by. Now come on down by the creek. It’s +pretty there. Have you ever seen the rapids? Not very rapid, but it +takes some strength to get a canoe up ’em. Some day we’ll get your +sister and take a canoe jaunt.” + +But at that Athalie’s brow darkened and her chin went up. “I don’t think +she’d care to go,” she said, stiffly. “She’s all taken up with doing +things down in that Frogtown place.” + +“Oh, wouldn’t she?” Barry’s voice was disappointed. Athalie looked at +him jealously. The sun seemed to have grown gray. Her loneliness had +settled down anew. + +Barry was tactful for one so young. He saw that for some reason she did +not want the sister. He turned the subject immediately to the day and +the beauties about them. + +“There’s a squirrel up in that tree that throws nuts down on me when I’m +fishing sometimes,” he said. “Do you like to fish? Why don’t you come +along with your father? He and the minister often come up here. Your +sister was along last time.” + +Ah! It was the sister! Athalie stiffened perceptibly. + +“There he goes now, look!” + +Athalie looked up while the boy talked, pointing out the squirrel +harbor, telling how the squirrels stored their nuts, how they often ran +up the tree with a mouthful of leaves to stuff in their harbor for a +bed. + +“See that branch of scarlet leaves up there!” exclaimed the boy +suddenly. “It’s early for them to turn red, but aren’t they peachy? +Shall I get them for you?” + +He was off up the tree in no time, nimble as a squirrel himself up, up, +and up, till the girl watching felt dizzy for him, then out on a +hazardous limb, and whipping his knife from his pocket. Presently down +came the splendid branch, fluttering like thousands of scarlet blossoms, +and fell at her feet. + +She stooped and picked it up wonderingly. It was almost the first time +in her life she had gathered trophies from the woods, the first time any +boy had presented her with anything so glorious and so wild. + +Barry was down again in a trice as if it had been nothing to climb like +that, and was walking beside her telling her about the scarlet maples in +the fall. Then all at once he turned and pointed. + +“Now, you go across that meadow. When you get to the corner of the board +fence turn to the right next the pasture and go straight ahead. You’ll +find your house just ahead of you, and nobody will get a chance to see +who you are before you are at home. I won’t go with you. It will be +better not. Those Vandemeeters have eyes all over the house. Here! Do +you want this junk?” + +Athalie with her arms full of the gorgeous leaves made her way slowly +across the sod of the pasture, and around the corner of the fence +thinking over all that had happened, wondering why the boy didn’t come +all the way with her, why he minded those old Vandemeeters, getting a +thought of his reasons into her soul, comparing them with all her father +had said, resolving to try again, and saying over as she entered her own +gate. “Spinach! Spinach! How I hate it!” + +The spring deepened into summer and school had closed. Athalie felt +lost. Her father was immersed in his book and had little time for golf. +Mary Truman and her mother and brother had gone away to the mountains +for a month, several of the other girls were visiting relatives in the +country or at the seashore, or taking little trips. She had to stay +around the house and garden. Always there was Silver everywhere in the +way. She did not get any nearer to Silver. + +Barry came one day and took Silver away in the minister’s car to see a +sick child two miles out of town. The minister had sent for her to come +and bring some broth. They all came home together with a sheaf of golden +rod and got out with much laughter and chatter. Athalie from the upper +window watched them. There was a look in Bannard’s eyes as he helped +Silver from the car that made her suddenly feel all alone in the world. +Barry too! He came in after them carrying flowers. Silver had a heap of +velvet moss in her hands dotted with scarlet berries. She was carrying +it carefully. The minister put out his hand to catch a falling spray of +the vine whereon the berries grew. Barry was close, with deep admiration +in his face. He answered something Silver said and flashed his beautiful +smile. Silver on the step above him broke a tiny spray of golden rod +from the armful he had just handed her and stooping fastened it in his +buttonhole. She could not hear the byplay of words that went with the +act, she could only see the flush of pleasure on Barry’s face, the +tender smile on Bannard’s, Silver’s look of utter joy and content. A +pang of jealousy like to none she had ever felt before shot through her +undisciplined heart. Her face was almost distorted with hate, and the +red hot tears went coursing down her face so that she could not see +Barry and the minister as they went back to the car. They had not asked +for her. They had not either of them suggested that she go along. If +Barry had done so when he came for Silver she would have gone. This once +she would have gone, if just to keep Silver from riding in the front +seat with Barry. But Barry had not asked it. Barry had not cared about +anything except just to make her safe for her father’s sake, and to make +her get thin, so her father would be pleased. Nobody cared for her! + +Her young lonely soul raged fiercely within, going over and over the +doleful situation, until she scarcely knew what she was doing, and +suddenly a gentle hand touched her on the shoulder. + +“Athalie, dear! You are crying! Is there anything I can do to help you?” + +It was Silver in her white dress with her arms full of golden rod, come +softly up the stairs on her rubber shod feet, and finding Athalie still +at the hall window. + +Athalie turned in a fury of anger to be caught this way, and shook off +the gentle hand. + +“Don’t you dare to touch me!” she hissed. “I _hate_ you!” + +“Athalie!” + +“Yes, _Athalie_!” mocked the angry girl. “You mealy-mouthed hypocrite! +You liar! You thief! That’s it! You are a _thief_!” + +“Athalie, what has got into you?” asked Silver in dismay. “What on earth +can you mean? What have I done to annoy you?” + +Athalie had not been in such a fury since the night she spoiled the +painting. She was simply blind with rage. + +“Done! done!” she screamed, “it isn’t enough that you stole my father +away. Stole him! Stole him! You had no right to him! He gave you away, +and you had your home, and you had people that loved you! You had a +grandfather and grandmother. I never had any grandfather or grandmother +or anybody. My mother never loved me!” Her tone was growing higher and +more excited. The pent up anguish of the weeks was breaking forth in a +flood. Silver lifted up a hand and tried to make her listen, but she +rushed on in a torrent of words. + +“She went away and left me to come here alone. She hasn’t written to me. +She doesn’t love me. And I came here to find a father. I would have made +him love me. Yes, I could, if you hadn’t poked your nose in and got +ahead of me. You had no right. He had given you up. You thought just +because you had that old Silver name—” + +“Athalie!” said Silver compassionately, but Athalie was beyond hearing. + +“Don’t speak to me. _I hate you!_” she raved on. “It wasn’t enough that +you stole my father, and the house, and are trying to get the money and +Mr. Bannard, but you have to steal my only friend!” + +Her head went down on the window frame and she sobbed aloud. + +“What do you mean, Athalie? I haven’t stolen any friend away from you!” +said Silver in a puzzled indignant voice. + +“Yes, you have. You’ve stolen Barry. He was nice to me. He brought me +back when I was going to run away and get married!” + +“Athalie!” + +“Oh, you needn’t Athalie me! I guess I could have done it if I wanted +to, and now I wish I had. I would have got out of this old hole anyway. +Isn’t Mr. Bannard enough for you? Why can’t you let Barry alone? You +pretend to be so loving and all, calling me _dear_, and all that mush, +and yet you spoil every nice time I try to have. It was you spoiled my +house party! You can’t deny that! And you’re at the bottom of my having +to wear frumpy old-fashioned clothes. If you hadn’t come here dressed +like a mouse my father wouldn’t have known the difference. He just wants +me to dress like you, and I won’t! So there! But I won’t stand your +making eyes at everybody that likes me either. Look how you did when I +had the house party! Carried all the boys off downstairs and flirted +with them. Got everyone of them crazy about you. Oh, but the girls were +furious about that.” + +Under the torrent of words which she could not stay Silver suddenly +collapsed into a chair and dropped her face into her hands. + +“Oh, yes! That makes you ashamed doesn’t it? You don’t like it put like +that. Well, why can’t you marry somebody and get away? I’ve been waiting +and waiting for you and Mr. Bannard to get things fixed up so you would +get out of the house and let me have a real home for once in my life.” + +Silver lifted a white face and listened sternly. + +“Athalie! Stop! You mustn’t say such things. They are disgraceful. The +neighbors will hear!” + +“I don’t care if they do! I hope they will!” + +“Athalie, if you will stop I will go away!” + +“Well, go, go! Why don’t you go then? You don’t mean it at all, you know +you don’t. You intend to stay right here and spoil my life. I came here +to try and get my father to marry my mother over again. She didn’t know +it, but I’ve always wanted to do that. I’ve always wanted a home like +other girls and a real father and mother! And then when I got here I +found you! What good do you suppose it would do me to get my father to +see my mother again while you were here? She wouldn’t come here with +you! She would hate you too, worse than I do. She would smile and do +something terrible to you. That’s Lilla! But she would never come here +with you here! Oh I shall never have a real home nor anybody that loves +me!” She suddenly broke away from the window with a wild sob and darted +toward the door of her own room. + +Silver turned putting out her arms to try and stop her. + +“Athalie! Let me speak! I will go! I did not understand before.” + +But Athalie broke away fiercely. + +“Well, _go_ then!” she shouted and slammed her door so that it +reverberated through the house like thunder. + +Down in the kitchen Anne Truesdale and Molly stopped working and looked +at one another anxiously. + +“It’s Miss Athalie got one of her tantrums again!” said Molly in an awed +whisper. + +“Well, the master’s coming home early tonight, praise be!” said Anne, +and tiptoed to the door to listen. But all was still up stairs. + +Silver was in her room with the door shut, kneeling beside her bed. + + + + + XXVIII + + +The tramp was not working that afternoon. He was recovering from a three +days’ vacation he had taken in the city following the weekly pay day. He +sat in the door a long time looking down toward the village and hating +the world. He always took it out in hating the world when he was out of +condition. He had a settled conviction that the world owed him a living. + +He looked as usual toward the Silver house with jealous eyes and began +to calculate as he had often done before, how many millions they must +have and what he could do if he had only a small portion of their +wealth. And as before he began to work at a plan that had for a long +time been maturing in his brain. He had worked it out link by link till +he had all the details perfect up to a certain point. There he always +had to stop. He never could quite get beyond that missing link. He +always thought if he could just think a little harder it would come to +him, that missing link, but as yet it had not come. + +And now he felt sick and sore from the three days’ debauch and the fire +was out and there wasn’t a bit of food in his lair, neither was there +wood to cook any food if he had any. + +He stirred his stiffened limbs and got himself to his feet shivering +from sheer revolt against life. He knew that the afternoon was waning +and that he must go soon to get wood or there would be no way to get +supper, and supper he must have if he was to go to work in the morning. +And to work he must go if he were to live longer, because his last cent +was spent and bacon cost money. They were not trusting tramps for bacon +and tea in Silver Sands. + +So down the mountain he trudged, gathering wood slowly in little heaps +by the way to be gathered up on his return trip. He must go trim that +hedge of Truman’s and that would bring him enough for sugar and butter +and all that he needed that night. Then on his return he would gather up +the wood and have a little comfort out of life. Strange that with such a +life he could still gather comfort from it. And Athalie Greeves in the +fine Silver house wept because there was nothing left for her in life! + +It was ten minutes to five when he returned with his sugar and bacon and +cheese. He hadn’t cut the hedge very well, but Mrs. Truman had been +having a missionary meeting and hadn’t come out to see. She had sent the +money out to him before he had quite finished and he lost no time in +getting down to the store. His inner man required immediate refreshment. + +So he sat down in a sheltered spot not far from the road to eat a snack +to stay him before he should gather up his wood. And suddenly his slow +jaws lagged and moved slower, and his little eyes peered cunningly +between the bushes, and his ears pricked up and listened, for down the +road in the distance he saw the missing link in the well forged chain of +his plans, approaching, and with eager caution and much peering he +stowed away his bundles under the leaves and moved down to a more +convenient station nearer the road where he could watch and be ready for +the right moment. + + * * * * * + +Silver had risen from her knees with a face in which sorrow and purpose +were having their way. She went straight to her desk and drawing pen and +paper toward her began to write rapidly. + + “Dear Athalie:— + + “I have been praying ever since I came that you and I might + learn to love one another and be real sisters. I have always + wanted a sister. But I see that I was mistaken and that cannot + be. So I am going away at once to show you that I really wanted + to love you. I haven’t wanted to hurt you in any way, nor to + steal father or anybody or anything away from you. You said a + good many things in your excitement that hurt me, but perhaps + you won’t remember them when you get calmer. I want you to know + that I forgive you, and want you to be happy. As you say, I have + had a happy home and you haven’t. Besides I am the older and + ought to go if one of us must, so it is all right. Only if I go, + Athalie, please make father happy. He is lonely too. And I shall + always pray that God will give you joy. + + Sincerely, Silver.” + +She folded it and wrote “Athalie” across the back then drew more paper +toward her and began again. This one was harder to write. It began: + + “Dear Father:— + + “Something has happened since you went to the city this morning + that has made me know that it is not right for me to stay with + you any longer. Not now, anyway. You know how sorry I am about + it, but I feel this is the only thing to do, so I am going to do + it quickly before you return. That will be easier for us both. I + have not time to tell you all it has meant to be with you, to + know I have a father, and to be sure I have your love. I shall + be rich in that knowledge always now wherever I am, but I feel + that Athalie needs you more than I do, and that you never can be + everything to each other while I stay. You will see it this way + too after a little and know that I did right. Perhaps some day + it will be right for me to come back, and then I shall return + with joy. Now I am going away and I am not going to tell you + where just yet for I am not quite sure of my plans, but as soon + as I am located I will send for my trunk which I will leave + packed and ready, and then perhaps you will write and tell me + you forgive me for going away without seeing you. I just felt + that I could not quite bear the good-bye, precious father! I + love you. Don’t feel bad. Love Athalie. + + Silver-Alice.” + +Silver paused a moment to wipe away the tears that would gather in her +eyes as she wrote the words that meant so much to her, then she began +another note. + + “My dear Mr. Bannard:— + + “I am writing in great haste and dismay to let you know that I + cannot fulfill my promise to go with you to the orchestra + concert in the city tomorrow because I find that I must suddenly + go away. It is a deep disappointment to me for I had looked + forward to the pleasure eagerly. I cannot tell you what pleasure + I have found in our work among the little children on the Flats, + nor how disappointed I am that I shall not be able to carry out + our plans for this winter. I am not sure how long I shall have + to stay. It may be quite a while. It is hard for me to have to + go, and to go thus suddenly without bidding my new friends + good-bye, but I know I am right in going at once. + + I thank you for what your friendship and your sermons have meant + to me while I was here, and I hope that some day I may have the + pleasure of seeing you again. + + Very Sincerely, Silver Greeves.” + +This letter she sealed, addressed and stamped and put in her pocket. +Then she arose and quickly folded her garments from the closet, laying +them in her trunk, opened drawers and boxes and stowed everything away +with expedition. There was not very much for she had not brought a great +deal when she came. In her little suitcase she put the few things of +immediate necessity, locking her trunk, put on her hat, and a long silk +wrap over her simple dark china-silk frock and taking her suitcase +slipped across the hall with her letters. Her father’s she laid on his +chiffonier where he would be sure to see it as soon as he came in, and +Athalie’s she slipped softly under her door. It was all still in the +hall when she went down. She longed to speak to Anne and Molly before +she left but knew she might upset all her plans if she did, so she went +swiftly out the door. + +“Well, now, where’s she going?” announced grandma from her window, “a +suitcase in her hand too! And this time of day!” + +“Maybe she’s taking her suit down to the cleaners,” suggested Pristina. + +“They would send for it if she phoned,” said Harriet. + +“Well, she’s pretty independent. She doesn’t take any rich folks airs on +herself,” said Cornelia. “I wonder why they never go together. They’re +not so far apart in age.” + +When Silver reached the station she found that the next train to the +city did not stop at Silver Sands, being an express, its only stop was +at the Junction two miles below. + +Looking at her watch she found that there was plenty of time to walk it. +She knew the way well for she had driven there several times with Mr. +Bannard. She mailed her letter to Bannard at the station and took the +back street for several blocks to avoid the centre of the town as she +did not care to be noticed in this sudden flight. + +When she came to the last cross street she turned into the main road +again and crossed the bridge. She hoped with all her heart that Bannard +would not happen to be out in his car and come across her. She felt she +could not bear that. But if he did she would just have to tell him how +things were. She somehow felt sure she could make him understand. + +But nobody came along to disturb the afternoon peace. The white road +stretched like a ribbon ahead under arching trees, the crickets sang +under the browning golden rod, a cicada grated out his raucous voice, +the wild asters, white and pink and blue and yellow nodded in the soft +breeze with their first opening clusters of stars, and yellow +butterflies whirled dreamily, lighting in the dusty grass by the +roadside. It was beautiful and still. It looked so dear. She could not +believe she was going away from it all, out into the world alone. Her +soul cried out to return, to destroy her notes and unlock her trunk and +try to make some other finish to this day that had begun so gorgeously +and was ending so sorrowfully. But something drove her feet forward in +the way, and she passed on around the curve of the road till Silver +Sands and the way to the Flats were out of sight and the tears were +blinding her eyes so that she could not see ahead. + +“Good-bye, dear home!” she whispered softly to herself. And then just +ahead of her, an old man hurried hobbling into the road and waved his +hand. + +“Oh, lady, lady! I’m so glad you come by. There’s a little child up +there in that shanty dying I’m feered. It fell over the rocks an’ broke +its leg, an’ done somepin to its insides I guess, an’ I’m runnin’ to get +the doctor. Won’t you just go up there lady and stay with the baby till +I git back? I sha’n’t be five minutes. I just cantta bear to leave it +all alone.” + +Silver looked at her watch and glanced up the hill. There was plenty of +time if the man hurried, even if it took him ten minutes, for the train +did not leave the Junction till ten minutes of five and it was just as +well that she should not get there till train time, lest someone might +see her. + +“Yes,” she said, “but hurry! I must make my train.” Then she turned and +began swiftly to climb the hill while the old man began to run stiffly +down the road. + +The hill was steeper than she thought and the suitcase heavy but she +managed to reach the little hovel in very good time, and stepping +inside, rubbed her eyes to get the sunshine out for the room seemed very +dark. She put down her suitcase and began groping across to find the +child, pausing a moment to get used to the dark, when suddenly she felt +the door shut behind her with a slam and something like a key turning in +a lock. + +In horror she rushed back, almost falling over her suitcase, and groped +for the knob, but there was none. The door was fast, and when she +pounded on it there were only hollow reverberations. It was so still in +the little place that it did not seem possible that there could be +anyone else in the room, even a dying child. Perhaps it was dead +already. She felt so alone. Her heart was beating wildly. She tried to +tell herself that of course the door had blown shut and a night latch +had fastened it, but a night latch usually opened from the inside. It +must be she would be able to find a knob when she grew calmer and could +see better. She groped back to the door and tried once more, but with no +better success. The door seemed smooth all over and fitted close. There +was no crack for light to come in. Was that a step outside? No, she must +have been mistaken. And yet—how strange! She had seen the man run down +the road! But the child! She ought to be attending to it! Could it be +that she had got into the wrong place? Were there two buildings on the +hill? Should she cry out for assistance? It was not far from the road. +Someone would be passing soon. Surely there was no need for her to be +frightened. The old man would soon return with the doctor and then she +would be set free. + +She remembered her little pocket flash that she always carried in her +handbag. She tried to find it and at last located it and touched the +spring. The ray of light revealed the bare stone walls, the rude box, +and huddled leaves, the empty fireplace, the frying pan, and cup, and a +crust of dry bread. There was no child anywhere. + +She examined the window carefully and found it firmly sealed. There +seemed to be no implement with which she might attempt to break it open. +She swept the room with the light and saw no possible way to get out. +Her heart was fluttering so that her breath was labored. + +“Help me, O Christ! Steady me! Show me a way to get out of here before +it is too late!” she prayed. Then she advanced to the fireplace and +turned the flash upward. The rough sooty stones loomed above her in +irregular knobs, jogging out here and there, and above them, in the +brilliancy of the speck of light, a branch of a tree, thick with leaves, +waved backward and forward. + +“There is always a way up,” came the words in memory from some famous +story or sermon, she could not tell which, but it thrilled her soul. It +was not far to the branch. Could she make it, up the slippery, cobbled +way? Was the space big enough? Could she get her suitcase out too? She +measured the distance with her eye, noted the stones that stuck out. +Would they bear her? But how could she climb with a suitcase? Yet she +must have it if possible. There was a bolt of blue ribbon in her +suitcase, a whole ten yards. Was it strong enough to hold the suitcase +if she tied the other end around her waist and then pulled it up after +her? And supposing she made the top of the chimney, could she climb down +without breaking her neck? Well, it would be better there out in God’s +open than shut in this dark place where no one could see her or hear her +and perhaps she could climb the tree. As for the suitcase she would do +her best and then let it go if she had to. But she must get out of here +before that man returned if he was the instigator of some intention +against her. If it was only some mistake of a dead-latch she must find +the child. It even now might be crying with fear. She must work fast in +any case. + +She hurried back to her suitcase, searched out the ribbon, tied one end +firmly to the handle, the other round her waist. Put her purse inside +the neck of her dress, turned her wrap inside out and tied it firmly +over her head and shoulders to protect hat and dress as much as +possible, and flash in hand began her perilous climb. It was a narrow +place to squeeze through. She put her suitcase up a couple of feet and +rested it on a ledge, supporting it with one hand as she climbed, +setting a foot here on a projecting stone, putting a hand there in a +crevice where the crumbling plaster gave way before her touch. Slowly, +painfully, stopping for breath, cautious because one wrong move might +undo all, she crept on. Once she missed her footing and the stone rolled +down leaving her with only one foot on a loose stone, and once the +suitcase slipped off suddenly jerking the ribbon around her waist and +almost bringing her down with it, but she caught herself in time, and +clinging to the wall prayed, “help me! Help me! O Christ, give me +strength! Give me steadiness!” + +It was like those dreams that come sometimes, where we find ourselves +crawling through an endless tunnel that grows smaller and smaller, and +finally our strength gives out, we collapse and are stuck fast. Two or +three times she thought she could not go on, and closed her eyes to +rest. She could not look up because the dust and soot filled her eyes, +so on and on she crept, coming to one place so small she could just get +her head through, and was sure she could not go further, but finally +managed to wriggle through, with the dead weight of the suitcase +dangling after, hitting against the wall and bumping, impeding her +upward way. Perhaps after all she would have to cut the ribbon and let +it drop. + +“Help! Help! O Christ—” and the blessed breath of air struck her face, +and light. Real sunlight blinded her eyes. She was out! She caught a +firmer hold, and just then the little flash light slipped away! She +caught at it and almost lost her own hold, but could not get it. She +heard it knock its way to the bottom of the hearth. Well, what matter! +She would not need it now. Then she pulled herself free from the +encasing wall and was out, head and shoulders above the little hut. + +She paused to rest and look about. No, there was no sign of any other +building. No sound of crying child. What did it mean? Down below she +could see the road and there was no pedestrian on it. An automobile +swept by going very fast, but it was not the doctor’s car. Fear clutched +her by the throat. She must get away at once. + +She writhed herself up out of the chimney. It proved to be a mere knob +above the low sloping roof. She had a struggle with her suitcase and +almost gave it up once, but finally brought it forth, crushed at one +side and badly scratched, but still intact, and then it was a +comparatively easy thing to slide cautiously down the roof and drop +carefully to the ground. + +She was free! But she was trembling so that for a moment she could not +move. Her hands and face were scratched and sooty, and her arms were +bruised and sore. She looked up at the blue sky and her heart said +quickly in a burst of joy, “Oh, thank you Christ!” + +Then new strength seemed to come, and breath, and she flew away down the +hill on the side where the undergrowth was comparatively light, got into +the highway, and the sunshine, and saw that she was not pursued, +gradually grew steadier, and began to straighten her garments, wipe off +the soot and give more thanks to God. There was a long strip torn out of +her crêpe de chine dress from hem to waist, an inch or two wide and left +somewhere behind in that chimney, but what did that matter? She was +free. Her shoes were scratched and dusty and not fit for a lady to take +a journey anywhere in, but that was a small matter. One glove was split +from wrist to finger and the other entirely gone, but what were gloves +in a lifetime! She was on the road, some road. It did not look familiar +and perhaps coming down this side of the hill she had missed her way, +but there would be a train sometime, somewhere, and she would find it. +God had set her free, and now she knew she had done right in coming +away. God had helped her on and not let her be hindered to make a lot of +trouble for everybody. She would be able to get to her destination and +write back in due time to set her father’s mind at rest. Then all would +be well. + +Half an hour’s walk brought her to a small hamlet, but it was not the +Junction. She had missed her way and missed her train, but they told her +that a trolley line passed half a mile below and the cars ran every half +hour. They would take her to her destination in less than two hours, and +what did it matter? She lifted up her tired head, and went forward. + + + + + XXIX + + +Greeves came home an hour earlier than he had planned, with it in mind +to take the young people all into town to a concert that he had +unexpectedly discovered. He stepped into the pantry and told Anne to +have dinner ready by quarter to six if possible, and then up to his room +to wash his hands and make one or two changes in his toilet. + +No one seemed to be about though the doors of both the girls’ rooms were +closed. They were probably dressing for dinner or resting. There was +time enough. He would not disturb them for another half hour. He stepped +to his chiffonier and there lay Silver’s letter. He read it quickly with +a fear at his heart, and then again. Then tearing down to the library +wildly he took up the telephone and called up the station. No, Miss +Greeves had not taken a train from there. She had come in and asked +about the train but when she found the next one only stopped at the +Junction she had gone out again. No, they hadn’t noticed which way she +went. They were busy with some freight and they couldn’t stop to watch +every female that came into that station anyhow, they were busy men, +they were. + +Patterson Greeves slammed the receiver on, and stared at the wall. What +was he to do next? She had taken a car to the city probably. He called +up the garage. No, they had not even seen her. Bannard? Perhaps Bannard +had taken her. He would find out if Aunt Katie knew. + +But as he took up the receiver to phone, Bannard himself walked into the +room having been let in by Anne, an open letter in his hand, his face +white and questioning. + +“Has something happened Greeves? I just found this in the post office. +Has Sil—has Miss Greeves gone back to her former home? What’s the +matter?” + +Patterson Greeves turned a white, anxious face to the minister. “Upon my +soul, Bannard, I don’t know what’s the matter! I just got this myself,” +and he handed over his letter. “I suppose it’s another outbreak of that +other devilish child of mine!” + +“Perhaps Anne will know.” + +He rang and Anne appeared. + +“Did Silver say anything about going out, Anne?” + +“No, master Pat. I think she’s in her room! I heard her there a little +while back.” + +“She’s not in her room, Anne. She’s gone!” + +“Gone, master Pat! Gone! Oh, that can’t be! Why, it’s not over an hour +since she called to me something about a package she’d left in my room, +a collar she promised to give me.” + +“Well, she’s gone. Did anything happen, Anne? Anything especially out of +the way.” + +“Miss Athalie,” Anne had her hand over her heart, “I heard her crying +and carrying on in one of her tantrums,” she said anxiously. + +“That’s it! I thought so! Silver has gone because she thinks Athalie +would be happier with her out of the house. She wanted to go once before +and I wouldn’t let her. Oh, my God!” + +“Oh, master Pat, don’t be a swearin’ now, please. She was that sweet a +Christian. Surely she’ll come back.” + +“Why certainly,” said Bannard eagerly, “we must find her and bring her +back. _I_ will find her. Let me phone for Barry to bring my car. He can +take his car too. It can’t surely take long to find her. She can’t have +gone far in this short time. What time did you say she spoke to you +Anne?” + +Suddenly they all became aware of Athalie standing in the door, her face +stained with tears and white with recent emotion. A letter in her hand, +a frightened look in her eyes. + +“Is—Silver—here?” she asked in a scared little voice, as she looked +around the room. + +Athalie had been growing taller lately, and had really lost a good deal +of flesh. And now as she stood and watched them all as if she had heard +what had been going on she looked fairly fragile. Her father turned on +her with fury in his eyes. + +“No, your sister is not here. You have driven her away, you little +devil! Get out of my sight. I never want to look on your face again!” + +With an awful cry like the rending of soul from body, a continued cry +that screeched through the house as the scream of a moving locomotive +through the night, Athalie regarded her father for an instant and then +turning tore up the stairs screaming as she went. She flung herself with +a mighty thud upon her bed and went into raving hysterics, but nobody +paid the slightest attention to her. Bannard and Greeves had gone out of +the house to meet the car, and Anne Truesdale was doing some telephoning +for which the master had left orders, a message to Silver’s lawyer, +another to the city station where she was to be paged, a discreet word +to the chief of police. + +Barry met the two men half a block from the house and waiting only for a +brief explanation of what he was wanted to do, went down the street on a +dead run after his own car. The Silver house grew silent as the dead +everywhere except in Athalie’s room where loud cries and sobs continued +to ring out, until grandma called: + +“Come here Pristina, don’t you hear something queer? It sounds like some +animal in distress.” + +Lizette Weldon hurried up the five stairs to her bay window landing and +turned her head from side to side to try each ear and identify the +voice. An hour later, Aunt Katie, unable to stand it any longer quietly +slipped through the hedge with her smelling salts and asked Anne +Truesdale who was slamming things around in the dining room with pursed +angry lips and streaming eyes, if she might go up. + +“Please yerself!” said Anne, jerking a chair into place. “She’s not +worth it, the nasty little tyke! Let her cry herself sick if she wants. +She and I are two people!” + +So Aunt Katie went up with her smelling salts and talked kindly in a +low, soothing tone, but Athalie knocked the bottle across the room and +took on more wildly than ever, and finally Aunt Katie departed with a +sigh, saying to Anne in the kitchen as she went out: + +“The poor thing! The poor wilful thing!” + +The weeping kept steadily on for an hour longer. Then Anne’s patience +gave out and she went up with a glass of ice water and threw it in +Athalie’s face, but the girl only strangled and choked and cried on the +harder, so Anne went down, half frightened and wondered if she ought not +to call the doctor. + +But at last the sounds died away, and Lizette and the Vandemeeters were +able to get a little rest. It was growing very late but Greeves and +Bannard had not returned. Anne sent Molly and Joe to bed, with +instructions not to undress, but be ready for any call, and herself put +out the lights and took up her watch by the front drawing room window. +Once she thought she saw a face peering round the lilac bush, but she +knew it must be her eyes after all the excitement so she put the thought +away. By and by she dozed off and the town slept. + +When the morning dawned and the sun finally penetrated the lilacs and +shot into the drawing room window Anne Truesdale sat up and blinked. + +“I must have dozed off,” she said shamedly to herself, “I wonder if the +master has come. I’ll just slip up and see if that tyke is asleep.” + +But when she reached Athalie’s room there was nobody on the bed. With a +growing fear she hurried from room to room, thinking perhaps she had +changed her bed as once before, but found no sign of her and on the +pillow in her father’s room was a little blistered note dramatically +left open written large. + +“Dear Dad: I’ve gone to find my sister. I won’t come back without her. +I’m sorry. Athalie.” + +When Greeves read that, a few minutes later, having come in with Bannard +after an all night fruitless search, he sank his haggard face in his +hands and dropped into the nearest chair. + +“My God! What have I done to deserve this?” + +“Dearie, dearie,” said Anne to Molly, “he’s swearin’ again. I guess +mebbe there’s a pair of ’em. Mebbe she mightn’t to be so much to blame +after all, takin’ after him as she does.” + +In the library the tray of breakfast that Anne had brought stood +untouched. + +“What shall I do, Bannard? What shall I do? I have lost them both—!” + +“I tell you, man, you must pray! If you ever prayed you must pray now. +Get down on your knees quick and tell the Lord you’re a sinner. He’s the +only one can straighten this out.” + +And Patterson Greeves dropped down on his knees and prayed: + +“Lord I have sinned! I have sinned against Thee and against both my +children. It is right I should be punished but don’t let them suffer. O +Lord, forgive and help and save—!” + +And while he prayed, the telephone rang. Bannard answered it. + +“Is that you, father?” a sweet voice called that thrilled him with its +familiarity. + +“Oh, Silver is that you? Are you all right?” said Bannard his whole soul +in his voice, and knew not that he had called her by her dear name. + +“Yes, your father is here. We have searched all night for you. Your +father is quite broken by anxiety. Is Athalie with you? Yes, she’s gone. +She apparently went sometime in the night. She left a note saying she +had gone to find you and would not come home without you.” + +“Oh, the dear child! I’ll come right home. I just got the message father +phoned to the lawyer. I’m sorry I’ve caused so much trouble.” + +“Where are you now? The city? Good. There’s a train in a few minutes +that doesn’t come through. You take it and I’ll meet you at the Junction +with the car.” + +Barry had come in while the conversation was going on and he turned a +startled face to Anne in the doorway. + +“Athalie gone?” he asked. “Aw, _gee_!” + +Anne handed him the note that Greeves had dropped on the floor. He read +it with softening eyes, then turned to Anne and said in a low tone: + +“Say, you get me a shoe or something of hers. I’ve got the dog here. +He’s good on following a scent. I’ll see what I can do.” + +Anne obeyed and Barry departed with instructions for Anne to tell +Bannard when he had finished telephoning. + +Greeves was still upon his knees, his face buried in his hands. Bannard +stepped over and put his hand upon the man’s shoulder. + +“Silver is found,” he said gently, “she’s coming right home on the next +train. I’m to meet her at the Junction. Will you go with me?” + +He had forgotten for the moment that Athalie was gone. + +Greeves roused and stood up, his face white and deeply marked. There +were tears upon his cheeks. + +“I must go and find my other girl,” he said hurriedly, “my poor wronged +child!” + + + + + TRANSCRIBER NOTES + +Misspelled words and printer errors have been corrected. Where multiple +spellings occur, majority use has been employed. + +Punctuation has been maintained except where obvious printer errors +occur. + +When nested quoting was encountered, nested double quotes were changed +to single quotes. + + [The end of _Tomorrow About This Time_ by Grace Livingston Hill] + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 79299 *** diff --git a/79299-h/79299-h.htm b/79299-h/79299-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c7d3215 --- /dev/null +++ b/79299-h/79299-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,12808 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> + <title>Tomorrow About This Time | Project Gutenberg</title> + <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg"/> + <meta name="cover" content="images/cover.jpg" /> + <meta name="DC.Creator" content="Grace Livingston Hill"/> + <meta name="DC.Title" content="Tomorrow About This Time"/> + <meta name="DC.Language" content="en"/> + <meta name="DC.Created" content="1923"/> + <meta name="DC.date.issued" content="1923"/> + <meta name="Tags" content="fiction, romance"/> + <meta name="DC.Publisher" content="Distributed Proofreaders Canada"/> + <meta name="generator" content="fpgen 4.67d"/> + <style type="text/css"> + body { margin-left:8%;margin-right:10%; } + .it { font-style:italic; } + .bold { font-weight:bold; } + .sc { font-variant:small-caps; } + p { text-indent:0; margin-top:0.5em; margin-bottom:0.5em; + text-align: justify; } + div.lgc { } + div.lgl { } + div.lgc p { text-align:center; text-indent:0; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; } + div.lgl p { text-indent: -17px; margin-left:17px; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; } + div.lgp { + display:inline-block; + text-align: left; + } + + div.lgp p { + text-align:left; + margin-top:0; + margin-bottom:0; + } + + .poetry-container { + text-align:center; + } + + h1 { + text-align:center; + font-weight:normal; + page-break-before: always; + font-size:1.2em; margin:2em auto 1em auto + } + + h2 { + text-align:center; + font-weight:normal; + font-size:1.1em; + margin:1em auto 0.5em auto; + } + + h3 { + text-align:center; + font-weight:normal; + font-size:1.0em; + margin:1em auto 0.5em auto; + page-break-after:avoid; + } + + hr.tbk { border:none; border-bottom:1px solid black; width:30%; margin-left:35%; margin-right:35%; } + hr.pbk { border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver; width:100%; margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:2em } + .figcenter { + text-align:center; + margin:1em auto; + page-break-inside: avoid; + } + + div.blockquote { margin:1em 2em; text-align:justify; } + p.line { text-indent:0; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; } + div.lgp p.line0 { text-indent:-3em; margin:0 auto 0 3em; } + .pindent { margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; text-indent:1.5em; } + .noindent { margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; text-indent:0; } + .hang { padding-left:1.5em; text-indent:-1.5em; } + .literal-container { text-align:center; margin:0 0; } + .literal { display:inline-block; text-align:left; } + </style> + <style type="text/css"> + .poetry-container { margin-top:.5em; margin-bottom:.5em } + .pindent {margin-top: 0.25em; margin-bottom: 0.5em;} + .literal-container { margin-top:.5em; margin-bottom:.5em } + .figcenter { max-width:600px; } + h1 { font-size: 2em; } + h2 { font-size: 1.5em; } + div.lgc { margin-top:.5em; margin-bottom:.5em } + hr.tbk { border:none; border-bottom:1px solid white; + width:30%; margin-left:35%; margin-right:35%; + margin-top: 1.0em; margin-bottom: 1.0em; } + p { margin-top:0em; margin-bottom:0em; } + </style> + </head> + + <body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 79299 ***</div> + + +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/cover.jpg' alt='Book cover' id='iid-0000' style='width:95%;height:auto;'/> +</div> + +<hr class='pbk'/> + +<div class='literal-container' style=''><div class='literal'> <!-- rend=';' --> +<p class='line' style='text-align:center;'><span class='it'>GRACE LIVINGSTON HILL’S</span></p> +<p class='line' style='text-align:center;'><span class='it'>Charming and Wholesome Romances</span></p> +<p class='line'> </p> +<p class='line'>Tomorrow About This Time</p> +<p class='line'>The Tryst</p> +<p class='line'>The City of Fire</p> +<p class='line'>Cloudy Jewel</p> +<p class='line'>Exit Betty</p> +<p class='line'>The Search</p> +<p class='line'>The Red Signal</p> +<p class='line'>The Enchanted Barn</p> +<p class='line'>The Finding of Jasper Holt</p> +<p class='line'>The Obsession of Victoria Gracen</p> +<p class='line'>Miranda</p> +<p class='line'>The Best Man</p> +<p class='line'>Lo, Michael!</p> +<p class='line'>Marcia Schuyler</p> +<p class='line'>Phoebe Deane</p> +<p class='line'>Dawn of the Morning</p> +<p class='line'>The Mystery of Mary</p> +<p class='line'>The Girl from Montana</p> +<p class='line'>The Big Blue Soldier</p> +</div></div> <!-- end rend --> + +<hr class='pbk'/> + +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/title.jpg' alt='TOMORROW ABOUT THIS TIME BY GRACE LIVINGSTON HILL J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY 1923' id='iid-0001' style='width:95%;height:auto;'/> +</div> + +<hr class='pbk'/> + +<div class='lgc' style='margin-top:3em;margin-bottom:3em;'> <!-- rend=';' --> +<p class='line'>COPYRIGHT, 1923, BY J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY</p> +<p class='line'> </p> +<p class='line'>PRINTED BY J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY</p> +<p class='line'>AT THE WASHINGTON SQUARE PRESS</p> +<p class='line'>PHILADELPHIA, U. S. A.</p> +</div> <!-- end rend --> + +<div><h1>TOMORROW<br/> ABOUT THIS TIME</h1></div> + +<h2>I</h2> + +<p class='pindent'>The letter lay on the top of the pile of mail on the +old mahogany desk, a square envelope of thick parchment +with high, dashing handwriting and faint, subtle fragrance.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The man saw it the instant he entered the room. It +gave him a sick dull thrust like an unexpected blow in the +solar plexus. He had come back to the home of his childhood +after hard years to rest, and here was this!</p> + +<p class='pindent'>It was from his former wife, Lilla, and no word from +her in all the twelve years since their divorce had ever +brought anything but disgust and annoyance.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He half turned toward the door with an impulse of +retreat, but thought better of it and stalked over to the +desk, tearing open the envelope roughly as if to have the +worst over quickly. It began abruptly, as Lilla would. +He could see the white jewelled fingers flying across the +page, the half flippant fling of the pen. Somehow the +very tilt of the letters as she had formed them contrived +to give the taunting inflection of her voice as he read:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, Pat, the time is up, and as the court decreed +I am sending you your daughter. I hope you haven’t forgotten, +for it would be rather awkward for the poor thing. +I’m going to be married in a few days now and wouldn’t +know what to do with her. She’s fourteen and has your +stubbornness, but she’s not so bad if you let her have +her own way in everything. Don’t worry, she’s the kind +that marries young, and she’ll probably take herself off +your hands soon. I wish you well of your task.—Lilla.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He sat back in the old mahogany chair and steadied +his arms on the chair-arms. The paper was shaking in +his fingers. Something inside of him began to tremble. +He had a feeling that it was his soul that was shaking. +Like quicksilver along his veins the weakness ran, like +quicksands his strength slid away from beneath his groping +feet. He had not known that a man in his prime could +be so puny, so helpless. Why, all the little particles of his +flesh were quivering! His lips were trembling like an +old person’s. He was as a frail ship tossed in the trough +of great waves. He could not right himself nor get any +hold on his self-control. He could not seem to think +what it all meant. He tried to read it over again and +found the words dancing before his eyes with strange, +grotesque amusement at his horror, like the look in Lilla’s +eyes when she knew she had hit one hard in a sensitive spot.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“His daughter!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He had not seen her since she was two years old, and +had taken very little notice of her then. His mind had +been too much filled with horror and disappointment to +notice the well-suppressed infant who spent her days in a +nursery at the top of the house when she was not out in +the park with her nurse. A memory of ribbons and frills, +pink-and-whiteness, and a stolid stare from a pair of alien +eyes that were all too much like Lilla’s to make any appeal +to his fatherhood, that was his child, all he could recall +of her. Even her name, he remembered bitterly, had +been a matter of contention. <span class='it'>Athalie</span>, the name of a +heathen queen! That had been her mother’s whim. She +said it was euphonious. Athalie Greeves! And she had +enjoyed his horror and distaste. And now this child +with the heathen name was coming home to him!</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He had looked on her as an infant still. He had not +realized in the big sharp experiences of the life he was +living that the years were flying. It could not be fourteen! +He had heard the judge’s decree that the child was to +remain with her mother until she reached the age of fourteen +years, and was then to pass to the guardianship of +her father, but he had thought he would not be living when +that came to pass. He had felt that his life was over. He +had only to work hard enough and fill every moment with +something absorbing, and he would wear out early. But +here he was, a young man yet, with honors upon him, and +new vistas opening up in his intellectual life in spite of the +blighted years behind him; and here was this child of his +folly, suddenly grown up and flung upon him, as if his +mistakes would not let him go, but were determined to +drag him back and claim him for their own!</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He bowed his head upon his arms and groaned aloud.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Patterson Greeves, brilliant scholar, noted bacteriologist, +honored in France for his feats of bravery and his +noted discoveries along the line of his chosen profession, +which had made it possible to save many lives during the +war; late of Siberia where he had spent the time after the +signing of the armistice doing reconstruction work and +making more noteworthy discoveries in science; had at +last come back to his childhood’s home after many years, +hoping to find the rest and quiet he needed in which to +write the book for which the scientific world was clamoring, +and this had met him on the very doorstep as it were +and flung him back into the horror of the tragedy of his +younger days.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>In his senior year of college, Patterson Greeves had +fallen in love with Alice Jarvis, the lovely daughter of the +Presbyterian minister in the little college town where he +had spent the years of his collegiate work.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Eagerly putting aside the protests of her father and +mother, for he was very much in love, and obtaining his +failing uncle’s reluctant consent, he had married Alice as +soon as he was graduated, and accepted a flattering offer +to teach biology in his Alma Mater.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>They lived with his wife’s mother and father, because +that was the condition on which the consent for the marriage +had been given, for Alice was barely eighteen.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>A wonderful, holy, happy time it was, during which +heaven seemed to come down to earth and surround them, +and the faith of his childhood appeared to be fulfilled +through this ideal kind of living, with an exalted belief in +all things eternal.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Then had fallen the blow!</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Sweet Alice, exquisite, perfect in all he had ever +dreamed a wife could be, without a moment’s warning, +slipped away into the Eternal, leaving a tiny flower of a +child behind, but leaving his world dark—forever dark—without +hope or God—so he felt.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He had been too stunned to take hold of life, but the +sudden death of his uncle, Standish Silver, who had been +more than a father to him, called him to action, and he +was forced to go back to his childhood’s home at Silver +Sands to settle up the estate, which had all been left +to him.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>While he was still at Silver Sands his father-in-law +had written to ask if he would let them adopt the little +girl as their own in place of the daughter whom they +had lost. Of course he would always be welcomed as a +son, but the grandfather felt he could not risk letting his +wife keep the child and grow to love it tenderly, if there +were danger of its being torn away from them in three +or four years and put under the care of a stepmother. The +letter had been very gentle, but very firm, quite sensible +and convincing. The young father accepted the offer +without a protest. In his stunned condition he did not +care. He had scarcely got to know his child. He shrank +from the little morsel of humanity because she seemed +to his shocked senses to have been the cause of her mother’s +death. It was like pressing a sore wound and opening it +afresh. Also he loved his wife’s father and mother tenderly, +and felt that in a measure it was due them that he +should make up in every way he could for the daughter +they had lost.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>So he gave his consent and the papers were signed.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Business matters held him longer than he had expected, +but for a time he fully expected to return to his father-in-law’s +house. A chance call, however, to a much better +position in the East, which would make it possible for +him to pursue interesting studies in Columbia University +and fill his thoughts to the fuller exclusion of his pain, +finally swayed him. He accepted the new life somewhat +indifferently, almost stolidly, and went his way out of +the life of his little child of whom he could not bear even +to hear much.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>From time to time he had sent generous gifts of money, +but he had never gone back, because as the years passed +he shrank even more from the scene where he had been +so happy.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He had absorbed himself in his studies fiercely until +his health began to suffer, and then some of his old college +friends who lived in New York got hold of him and +insisted that he should go out with them. Before he +realized it, he was plunged into a gay, reckless company +of people who appeared to be living for the moment and +having a great time out of it. It seemed to satisfy something +fierce in him that had been roused by the death of +Alice and he found himself going more and more with +them. For one thing, he found common ground among +them in that they had cast aside the old beliefs in holy +things. It gave him a sort of fierce pleasure to feel that +he had identified himself with those who defied God and +the Bible and went their wilful way. He could not forgive +God, if there were a God, for having taken away +his wife, and he wanted to pay Him back by unbelief.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>They were brilliant men and women, many of those +with whom he had come to companion, and they kept his +heart busy with their lightness and mirth, so that gradually +his sorrow wore away and he was able to shut the +door upon it and take up a kind of contentment in life.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>And then he met Lilla!</p> + +<p class='pindent'>From the first his judgment had not approved of her. +From the first she seemed a desecration to Alice, and he +stayed away deliberately from many places where he +knew she was to be. But Lilla was a strong personality, +as clever in her way as he, and she found that she could +use Patterson Greeves to climb to social realms from +which her own reckless acts had shut her out. Moreover, +Patterson Greeves was attractive, with his scholarly face, +his fine physique, his brilliant wit, flashing through a premature +sternness that only served to make him the more +distinguished. When Lilla found that he not only belonged +to a fine old family dating back to Revolutionary times, +but had a goodly fortune in his own right, she literally laid +aside every weight, and for a time, almost “the sin which +doth so easily beset,” and wove a net for his unsuspecting +feet.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Then, all unaware, the lonely, weary, rebellious man +walked into the pleasant net. He read with her for hours +at a time, and found himself enjoying her quaint comments, +her quick wit, her little tendernesses. He suddenly realized +that his first prejudice had vanished, and he was +really enjoying himself in her society.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Lilla was clever. She knew her man from the start. +She played to his weaknesses, she fostered his fancies, and +she finally broke down one day and told him her troubles. +Then somehow he found himself comforting her. From +that day on matters moved rapidly. Lilla managed to +make him think he was really in love with her. He wondered +if perhaps after all the sun were going to shine +again for him; and he put the past under lock and key +and began to smile again.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He and Lilla were married soon, and set up an establishment +in New York, but almost from the start he began +to be undeceived. The evenings of reading together +suddenly began to openly bore her. Lilla had no notion +of settling down to a domestic life. Her husband was +only one of many on whom she lavished her smiles, and +as soon as she had him safely she began to show her true +nature, selfish, untrue, disloyal, mercenary, ambitious.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The revelation did not come all at once. Even after +their child was born he still had hope of winning her to +a simpler, more possible manner of life. But he found that +the child was in her eyes only a hindrance to her ambitions +and that he was not even that; and when Lilla filled his +house with men and women of another world than his, +whose tastes and ways were utterly distasteful to him, +he began to absent himself more and more from home. +This had been made possible by the growing demand for +his services as lecturer and adviser in the world of science. +So it came about that whenever he received an invitation +of this sort he accepted it, until sometimes he would be +away lecturing in universities for weeks at a time, or +touring the West.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The little Athalie had never meant anything to him +but a reproach. Somehow her round blank stare had always +sent his thoughts back to the first little one whom +he had given away; and he felt a reproach in spite of the +fact that he always reasoned it out within himself that +he had done well in so doing.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>So, at war with himself, he had grown more and +more morose, living to himself whenever he was at home; +scarcely ever even a figurehead in his own house at the +functions which his wife delighted to give to her own gay +set. As he grew to understand the true character of his +second wife his mind reverted to his old bitterness against +a God—if there were a God—who had thrust this hard +fate upon him.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>So, bitterly and haughtily, he had lifted his proud +head and taken the blows of life without comfort. And +now he had come home.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He had arrived in the late afternoon, and found the +town of Silver Sands much as he left it years ago. There +was a new thrifty little stucco station in place of the grimy +one of clapboards of the old days, but the old barns and +blacksmith-shop were there just as he left them, a trifle +more weather-beaten and dilapidated, but doing a thriving +business in automobile-tires and truck-repairs.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The old stone church where as a child he went to +Sunday school, and sat beside Aunt Lavinia in the dim +pew afterwards, with Uncle Standish next the aisle, and +squirmed or slept through a long service, looked just the +same, save that the ivy on the tower grew thicker and +higher. The graveyard sloping down the hill behind, +the Baptist church across the corner—red brick with +aspen-trees in front and chalk-marks where the children +played hopscotch during the week on the brick walk up +to the steps, were unchanged. A little farther on he could +see the red brick schoolhouse where he went to school +glimmering through the trees, and the old bare playground +where he used to play baseball. There he had +somehow bluffed his way into high school and finally prepared +for college. He had heard rumors of a new high +school up in the new part of town, but the old part where +he had lived his young life seemed almost unchanged.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He had gone into the old house expecting to find the +chill of the long-closed place about it, but the door had +swung open, and the old servitor, Joe Quinn, with his +wife Molly, the cook, had stood smiling at the end of +the hall a little wrinkled and gray, rounder as to form, +more bent; and there in the parlor door quite ceremoniously +had stood Anne Truesdale, an English woman whom +his Aunt Lavinia had befriended when her husband died, +and who had been housekeeper since his aunt’s death. Her +hair was white and she had lost her rosy cheeks, but her +eyes were bright and her thin form as erect as ever in its +black silk and thin white cuffs and collar. She put out a ceremonious +hand to welcome the boy she used to chide, with a +deference to his years and station that showed her reverence +for him.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, Master Pat,” she said, using the old name he +had not heard for years, “So yer come again. Welcome +home! It’s right glad we are to see ye!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>For the moment it almost seemed as if he were a +boy again coming home for vacation.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He went up to his room and found it unchanged with +the years. He spent a happy moment glancing over the +old pictures of high school teams that were framed on +his walls. Then he came down to the dining room and +sat at the wide table alone eating a supper as like to those +of his childhood as the same cook could make it: stewed +chicken with little biscuits, currant jelly from the bushes +in the garden, prune jam and cherry delight from the +trees he had helped to plant, mashed potatoes as smooth +as cream, peas that were incredibly sweet, little white +onions smothered in cream, cherry pie that would melt +in your mouth for flakiness, and coffee like ambrosia.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Shades of the starving Russians! Was he dreaming? +Where was Siberia? Had the war ever been? Was he +perhaps a boy again?</p> + +<p class='pindent'>But no! Those empty places across the table! That +ivy-covered church down the street surrounded by its +white gravestones showing in the dusk! A world of horror +in France between! Other gravestones too, and an +empty sinful world! Ah! No, he was not a boy again!</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He opened the door of the dear old library half expecting +to see the kindly face of his Uncle Standish sitting at +the desk, and instead, there was the letter!</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He had come home for rest and peace, and this had +met him! He seemed to hear Lilla’s mocking laugh ringing +clearly through the distant halls as if her spirit had +lingered to watch over her letter and enjoy its reception. +It was like Lilla to prepare the setting of a musical comedy +for anything she had to do. Why couldn’t she have written +to ask him what he wanted her to do about the child?</p> + +<p class='pindent'>His anger rose. Lilla should not make a laughing-stock +of him in any such way. He glanced at the date +of the letter and angrily reached for the telephone:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Give me Western Union!” he demanded sternly, +and dictated his telegram crisply:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“On no account send the child here. Will make +immediate arrangements for her elsewhere. Letter follows +by first mail. P.S.G.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He hung up the receiver with a click of relief as if he +had thus averted some terrible calamity, and sank wearily +back in his chair, beads of perspiration standing out on +his forehead. It was almost as if he had had a personal +encounter with Lilla. Any crossing of swords between +them had always left him with a sense of defeat.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He tried to rally and busy himself with the other +letters. Two from his publishers demanding copy at once, +an invitation from an exclusive scientific society to speak +before their next national convention, a call from a western +college to occupy the chair of sciences, a proposition from +a lecture bureau to place his name on their list in a course +of brilliant speakers. He threw them down aimlessly and +took up the last letter without glancing at the address. +They all seemed so trivial. What was fame to an +empty life?</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Then he brought back his wandering gaze and read:</p> + +<p class='noindent'>“Dear Father:—”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He started. Not for several years had he read a letter +beginning that way. Athalie had never written to him. +He had not expected it. She was Lilla’s child.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>But this was from Alice’s child. The writing was so +exactly like her girl-mother’s that it gave his heart a wrench +to look at it. She had not written him since he had married +Lilla. Well, it had not mattered. She did not belong +to him—never had. He had given her away. He had +always felt her childish little letters full of stilted gratitude +for the gifts he sent were merely perfunctory. Why +should she care for him? She could not remember him. +He had been rather relieved than otherwise because he +had a troubled feeling that they entailed more than a mere +check at Christmas and birthdays. And now after several +years’ silence she had written again! Strange that both +his children should have been suddenly thrust upon his +notice on this same day! He read on:</p> + +<div class='blockquote'> + +<p class='pindent'>“I suppose you received the word I sent while you +were abroad that Grandfather died of influenza last +November right in the midst of his work. Grandmother +has been slipping away ever since, though she tried to +rally for my sake. But two weeks ago she left me, and +now I am alone. I sent a letter to your foreign address, +but I saw in the papers today that you had landed and +were going to Silver Sands, and a great longing has come +over me to see my father once before I go to work. I +am not going to be a burden to you. Grandfather had +saved enough to keep me comfortably even if I did nothing, +but I have also secured a good position with a very good +salary for a beginner, and I shall be able to care for myself, +I think, without at present touching the money that was +left me.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Grandmother said something a few days before she +died that has given me courage to write this letter. I +have always felt, and especially since you married again, +that you did not want me or you would not have given +me to Grandmother, and of course I don’t want to intrude +upon you, although I’ve always been very proud of you +and have read everything I could find in the papers about +you. But one day two weeks ago Grandmother said: +‘Silver,’—they always called me Silver, you know, because +they wanted to keep the Alice for Mother,—‘Silver, I’ve +been thinking that perhaps your father might need you +now. After I’m gone perhaps you better go and see.’</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“So, father, I’m coming! I hope you won’t mind—”</p> + +</div> + +<p class='pindent'>Patterson Greeves suddenly dropped the letter and +buried his face in his hands with a groan which was half +anguish, half anger, at a Fate which had suddenly decided +to make him a puppet in the comedy of life. He was like +one under mortal anguish. He kicked the heavy desk-chair +savagely back from under him, and strode to the +window like a caged animal. Staring out with unseeing +eyes at the calm dusk of the evening sky across the meadow, +he tried to realize that this was really himself, Patterson +Greeves, to whom all this incredible thing was happening. +Horrible! Impossible!</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He sensed that somewhere back in his soul was a +large engulfing contempt for himself. This was no attitude, +of course, for a father to have toward his children. +But then they had never really been his children in the +strict sense of the word, and nothing had ever been right +in his life. Why should <span class='it'>he</span> try to be? It was all God’s +fault, if there were a God—taking Alice away! None +of these unnatural things would ever have happened if +Alice had lived! And now God was trying to force him +back to the blackness of his ruined life again after he had +in a measure gained a certain hard kind of peace.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He flung his head up defiantly toward the evening +sky, as if he would vow that God should make nothing +from him by treating him so. He was master of his fate +no matter how “charged with punishment the scroll.” +God! To dare to be a God and yet to treat him so!</p> + +<h2>II</h2> + +<p class='pindent'>The old Silver place stood back from the street just +far enough for privacy and not far enough to seem +exclusive.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The General Silver who built it in Revolutionary times +had been a democratic soul, and his sons who had followed +him were of like mind. The last grandson, Standish +Silver, now sleeping in the quiet churchyard just below +the bend of the hill, was the friend and counsellor of every +one in the village, his home alike the rendezvous and +refuge of all classes. Perhaps it was the habit of the +house through the long years that had given it that genial +attitude, wide-spread and welcoming as it stood among +its trees and old-fashioned shrubs, with the same dignity +and gentleness of bearing it had worn in the days when +its owners were living within, as if it had a character +to maintain in the name of the family, though all its +immediate members were gone.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>There were many newer houses in Silver Sands that +boasted modern architecture, and in their ornate and pretentious +decorations made claim to be the finest houses +in town, but still the old Silver place held its own with +dignity and gentle grace, as if it had no need for pretension. +Like a strong, handsome old man of high birth, it +lifted its distinguished head among all the others of the +place. There was something classic about its simple lines, +its lofty columns reaching to the roof, its ample windows +with wide drawn snowy curtains giving of old a glimpse +of companionable firelight blazing on a generous hearth. +It had a home-like, friendly look that drew the eye of a +visitor as home draws the soul. It had always been kept +in perfect repair, and the well-made bricks of which it +was built had been painted every year a clear cream-white, +always white with myrtle-green blinds, so that old age +had only mellowed it and made the color a part of the +material. It had the air of well-preserved age, like an +old, old person with beautiful white hair who still cared +to keep himself fine and distinguished.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>About its feet the myrtle crept, with blue starry blossoms +in summer; and lush beds of lilies-of-the-valley, generation +after generation of them, clustering, occupied the +spaces between the front walk and the end verandas, giving +forth their delicate fragrance even as far as the dusty +street. A tall wall of old lilacs made a background behind +the verandas at each end. A gnarled wistaria draped a +pergola at one end while a rich blooming trumpet vine +flared at the other, miraculously preserved from the devastation +of painters each year. A row of rare peonies bordered +the walk down to the box hedge in front, and the +grass was fine and velvety, broken here and there by +maples, a couple of lacy hemlock-trees, and the soft blending +plumes of the smoke-bush. In the back yard there +were roses and honeysuckle, snowballs and bridal-wreath, +bittersweet vines, mountain-ash trees, and a quaint corner +with walks and borders, where sweet-williams, Johnny-jump-ups, +canterbury-bells, and phlox still held sway, with +heliotrope, mignonette, and clove-pinks cloying the air with +their sweetness, and in their midst an old-fashioned sun-dial +marking the marching of the quiet hours. Almost hidden +in the rose-vines was a rustic arbor of retreat, where +one might go to read, and be undisturbed save by the birds +who dared to nest above it and sing their lullabies unafraid. +One would scarcely have dreamed that there was left a +spot so sweet, so quaint, so true and peaceful in this +twentieth century rushing world.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Across the road a meadow stretched far down to misty +vapors rising from the little stream, whose sand, of a +peculiar fine and white variety, suitable for use in manufacturing +fine grades of sandpaper, had given to the Silver +family its prosperity; and helped to give a name to the +place started by the first old family—“Silver Sands.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The meadow was rimmed with trees, and here and +there a group broke the smoothness of its green, but for +the most part the view was kept open, down across its +rippling smoothness of close-cropped grass in summer, +or glistening whiteness of deeplaid snow in winter, open +down to the gleaming “river” as they sometimes dignified +the little stream. And one looked back to the owners of +that strip of land with gratitude that they had done this +thing for the house and for all who should sojourn therein, +to give this wide stretch of beauty untouched, with room +for souls who had vision to grow.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Down beyond the meadow, off to the right, camouflaged +now and again by a casual tree, or a cropping of rocks, +huddled the heterogeneous group of buildings which had +come to be known as Frogtown. It was really originally +called “the Flats” of Silver Sands, but since the factories +had gone up, the iron-foundry, the glass-works, the silk-mill, +and like mushrooms, a swarm of little “overnight +houses” filled with a motley foreign and colored population, +it had somehow grown into the name of Frogtown, +and one felt that if the original Silver who had held the +land, and planned the view across the long misty meadow, +could have looked ahead far enough he would have planted +a row of tall elms or maples like a wall to shut <span class='it'>in</span> his view +as well as out. For Frogtown in winter lifted stark, grim +chimneys of red brick, and belched forth volumes of soft +black smoke, which, when it got into the picture, was +enough to spoil any view.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>But in summer the kindly trees had spread more and +more to shut out the ugliness of the dirty little tenements +and stark red chimneys, and the tall grass reached up and +blended the town till one could almost forget it was there. +Especially at evening could one look out from the windows +of the dignified old Silver mansion and see the river +winding smoothly like a silver ribbon just beyond the +stretch of misty green without a thought of dirty laborers, +blazing furnaces, flaring pots of molten glass and metal. +It was like a vision of Peaceful Valley in its still +natural beauty.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>But it was most mysterious just after the sun had set, +and the “trailing clouds of glory” left behind were lying +in lovely tatters across a field of jade, above the pearly +shadows where the river pulsed in dusk, and a single star +pricked out like a living thing and winked to show the +night alive.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>For the last fifteen years, since the death of Standish +Silver, few had looked at this particular view from the +angle of the Silver house for the reason that there had +seldom during that period been any one occupying the +house except the three old servants, who lived in the back +part, and went “front” only to clean and air it. They +cared little for views. For this reason it was all the more +wonderful that the house had kept its atmosphere of home, +and its air of alert friendliness, its miracle of distinction +from all other houses of the town that sat upon it with +a kind of pride.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>But on this night, after all the years, the old house +seemed to smile with content as the evening settled down +upon it, and nestled among its shrubbery with an air +of satisfaction. Back in the inner rooms soft lights began +to glow under quiet shades, and there seemed a warmth +and life about the place as if it had wakened because the +owner had come home.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>As Patterson Greeves stood at the window surrounded +by this sweetness of the night, this peace of home, his +raging soul could not but feel the calm of it all, the balm, +the beauty. The sweet air stole in upon his troubled senses +and his soul cried out for comfort. Why couldn’t they +have left him in peace to get what inspiration there was +in this quiet old spot for the hard work that he had +before him?</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The spell of the meadow came upon him, the mist +stealing up from the river in wreaths till he felt the blue +eyes of the violets from their hiding places as if they were +greeting him, sensed the folded wings of a butterfly poised +for the night on a dandelion, began to gather up and single +out and identify all the delicate smells and sounds and +stirrings in the meadow that he used to know so long ago. +Even without going he could seem to know where a big +flat stone could be lifted up to show the scurrying sawbugs +surprised from early sleep. His anger began to +slip from him, his bitterness of soul to be forgotten. A +desire stirred in him to steal out and find the particular +tree-toad that was chirping above his mates, and watch +him do it. He drank in the night with its clear jade sky, +littered with tatters of pink and gold. He answered the +wink of the single star, his old friend from boyhood—and +then he remembered!</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Out there was the meadow and the mist and the silver +sand in the starlight, but off down the street in the quiet +churchyard were two graves! Out the other way was a +dead schoolhouse where other boys played ball and bluffed +their way through lessons. He was not a boy. He had +no part nor lot in this old village life. He had been a fool +to come. His life was dead. He had thought he could +come to this old refuge for inspiration to write a book +that would add to the world’s store of wisdom and then +pass on—out—Where? How different it all was from +what he had dreamed in those happy boy days!</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Even the old church with its faith in God, in love, in +humanity and life, in death and resurrection! What were +they now but dead fallacies? Poor Aunt Lavinia with her +beautiful trust! How hard she strove to teach him lies! +Poor Uncle Standish, clean, kind, loving, severe, but +fatherly and Christian—always <span class='it'>Christian</span>! How far he +had gone from all that now! It seemed as different, the +life he had been living since Alice died, as a wind-swept, +arid desert of sand in the pitch-dark would be from this +living, dusky, mysterious, pulsing meadow under the +quiet evening sky. And yet—! Well, he <span class='it'>believed</span> in the +meadow of course because he <span class='it'>knew</span> it, had lived with the +bugs and butterflies and bits of growing things. If he had +only read about it or been taught of it he might perhaps +think the earth all arid. He had a passing wish that he +might again believe in the old faith that seemed to his +world-weary heart like an old couch whereon one might +lie at peace and really rest. But of course that was out +of the question. He had eaten of the tree of knowledge +and he could not go back into Eden. Poor credulous +Uncle Standish, poor Aunt Lavinia! Strong and fine +and good, but woefully ignorant and gullible! How little +they knew of life! How pleasant to have been like them! +And yet, they stagnated in the old town, walking in grooves +their forebears had carved for them, even thinking the +thoughts that had been taught them. That was not life.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Well, why not? He had seen life. And what had +it given him? Dust and ashes! A bitter taste! Responsibilities +that galled! Hindrances and disappointments! +Two daughters whom he did not know! An empty heart +and a jaded soul! Ah! Why live?</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Into the midst of his bitter thoughts a crimson stain +flared into the luminous gray of the evening sky as if it +had been spilled by an impish hand, and almost simultaneously +out from the old bell-tower in the public square +there rang a clang that had never in the years gone by +failed to bring his entire forces to instant attention. The +red flared higher, and down behind the tall chimneys +beside the silver beach, a little modern siren set up a shriek +that almost drowned out the hurried imperious clang of the +firebell. Another instant and the cry went up from young +throats down the street, where the voices of play had +echoed but a second ago, and following upon the sound +came the gong of the fire-engine, the pulsing of the engine-motor, +the shouts of men, the chime of boys’ voices, +hurried, excited, dying away in a breath as the hastily +formed procession tore away and was lost in the distance, +leaving the tree-toads to heal over the rent air.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>It took Patterson Greeves but an instant to come to +life and answer that call that clanged on after the firemen +had gone on their way. He stayed not for hat nor coat. +He flung open the front door, swung wide the white gate, +made one step of the road, and vaulted the fence into the +meadow. Down through the dear old mysterious meadow +he bounded, finding the way as if he were a boy again, +his eye on the crimson flare in the sky. Once he struck +his foot against a boulder and fell full length, his head +swimming, stars vibrating before his eyes, and for an +instant he lay still, feeling the cool of the close-cropped +grass in his face, the faint mingle of violet and mint wafted +gently like an enchantment over him, and an impulse to +lie still seized him, to give up the mad race and just stay +here quietly. Then the siren screeched out again and his +senses whirled into line. Footsteps were coming thud, thud +across the sod. He struggled half up and a strong young +arm braced against him and set him on his feet:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“C’mon!” breathed the boy tersely. “It’s <span class='it'>some fire</span>!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“What is it?” puffed the scientist, endeavoring to +keep pace with the lithe young bounds.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Pickle factory!” murmured the youth, taking a little +stream with a single leap. “There goes the hook ’n ladder! +We’ll beat ’em to it. Job Trotter cert’nly takes his time. +I’ll bet a hat the minister was running the engine. He +certainly can make that little old engine hump herself! +Here we are! Down this alley an’ turn to yer right—!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>They came suddenly upon the great spectacle of leaping +flames ascending to heaven, making the golden markings +of the late-departed sun seem dim and far away as +if one drew near to the edge of the pit.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The crude framework of the hastily built factory was +already writhing in its death-throes. The firemen stood +out against the brightness like shining black beetles in +their wet rubber coats and helmets. The faces of the +crowd lit up fearfully with rugged, tense lines and deep +shadows. Even the children seemed old and sad in the +lurid light. One little toddler fell down and was almost +crushed beneath the feet of the crowd as a detachment of +firemen turned with their hose to run to another spot +farther up the street where fire had just broken out. The +air was dense with shouts and curses. Women screamed +and men hurried out of the ramshackle houses bearing +bits of furniture. Just a fire. Just an ordinary fire. +Thousands of them happening all over the land every day. +Nothing in it at all compared to the terror of the war. +Yet there was a tang in the air, a stir in the pulses, that +made him thrill like a boy to the excitement of it. He +wondered at himself as he dived to pick up the fallen +child and found his young companion had been more +agile. The baby was restored to her mother before her +first outcry had fully left her lips.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Good work, Blink!” commended a fireman with face +blackened beyond recognition, and a form draped in dripping +mackintosh.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“That’s the minister!” breathed the boy in Patterson +Greeves’ ear, and darted off to pounce upon a young bully +who was struggling with his baby sister for possession of +some household treasures.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Then, as quickly as it had arisen, the fire was gone; +the homeless families parcelled out among their neighbors; +the bits of furniture safely disposed of for the night, and +the fire company getting ready to depart.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Ain’t you goin’ to drive her back?” the boy asked +of the tall figure standing beside him.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Patterson Greeves warmed to the voice that replied:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“No, son, I’m going back across the fields with you +if you don’t mind. I want to get quiet under the stars +before I sleep, after all this crash.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>They tramped it together, the three, and there was +an air of congeniality from the start as of long friendship. +The boy was quiet and grave as if bringing his intelligence +up to the honored standard of his friend, and the +new man was accepted as naturally as the grass they walked +upon or a new star in the sky. There was no introduction. +They just began. They were talking about the +rotten condition of the homes that had just burned and +the rottener condition of the men’s minds who were the +workers in the industries in Frogtown. The minister said +it was the natural outcome of conditions after the war, +and it was going to be worse before it was better, but +it was going to be better before a fatal climax came, and +the scientist put in a word about conditions on the +other side.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>When they had crossed the final fence and stood in +the village street once more Patterson Greeves waved +his hand toward the house and said:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“You’re coming in for a cup of coffee with me,” and +the tone included the boy cordially.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>They went in quite as naturally as if they had been +doing it often and the minister as he laid aside his rubber +coat and helmet remarked with a genial smile:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I thought it must be you when I first sighted you +at the Flats. They told me you were coming home. I’m +glad I lost no time in making your acquaintance!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Blink stuffed his old grimy cap in his hip pocket and +glowed with pride as he watched the two men shake hands +with the real hearty handclasp that betokens liking on +both sides.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The old servants joyfully responded to the call for +coffee, and speedily brought a fine old silver tray with +delicate Sèvres cups, and rare silver service, plates of +hastily made sandwiches—pink with wafer-thin slices of +sweetbriar ham, more plates of delicate filled cookies, +crumby with nuts and raisins. Blink ate and ate again +and gloried in the feast, basking in the geniality of the +two men, his special particular “finds” in the way of +companions. “Gee! It was great!” He wouldn’t mind +a fire every night!</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The coffee-cups were empty and the two men were +deep in a discussion of industrial conditions in foreign +lands when suddenly, with sharp insistence the telephone-bell +rang out and startled into the conversation. With a +frown of annoyance Patterson Greeves finished his sentence +and turned to take down the receiver.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Western Union. Telegram for Patterson Greeves!” +the words smote across his consciousness and jerked him +back into his own troubled life. “Yes?” he breathed +sharply.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Too late! Athalie already on her way. She should +reach you tomorrow morning.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Signed “Lilla.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>It seemed to him as he hung up the receiver, a dazed, +baffled look upon his face, that he could hear Lilla’s mocking +laughter ringing out somewhere in the distance. Again +she had outwitted him!</p> + +<h2>III</h2> + +<p class='pindent'>Having diligently enquired what time the night express +from the East reached the near-by city, and finding that +it was scheduled to arrive fifteen minutes after the early +morning train left for Silver Sands, and that there was +not another local train that could bring his unwelcome +daughter before eleven o’clock, Patterson Greeves ate his +carefully prepared breakfast with a degree of comfort +and lingered over his morning paper.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He had in a long-distance call for the principal of a +well-known and exclusive girls’ school in New England, +and he was quite prepared to take the child there at once +without even bringing her to the house. He had already +secured by telephone the service of an automobile to convey +them at once back to the city, that she might be placed +on the first train possible for Boston. It remained but +to arrange the preliminaries with the principal, who was +well known to him. He anticipated no difficulty in entering +his daughter even though it was late in the spring, +for he knew that it was likely that a personally conducted +tour of some sort, or a summer camp, could possibly be +arranged through this school. These plans were the result +of a night of vigil. So he read his paper at ease with +himself and the world. For the moment he had forgotten +the possible advent of his elder daughter.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>His breakfast finished, he adjourned to the library to +await the long-distance call. The scattered mail on the +desk at once recalled Silver and her suggestion that she +would like to visit him. He frowned and sat down at +the desk, drawing pen and paper toward him. That must +be stopped at once. He had not time nor desire to break +the strangeness between them at present. In fact his very +soul shrank from seeing Alice’s child, the more so since he +had become so aware of Lilla’s child’s approach.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He wrote a kind if somewhat brusque note to Silver +saying that she had better defer her visit to some indefinite +period for the present, as he was suddenly called away +on business—his half intention to take Athalie to her +school served as excuse for that statement to his dulled +conscience—and that he was deeply immersed in important +literary work in which he could not be disturbed. It +sounded well as he read it over and he felt decidedly pleased +with himself for having worded it so tactfully. He +resolved to send it by special delivery to make sure that +it reached her before she started. And by the way—what +was it she said about taking a position? Of course that +must not be allowed. He was fully able and willing to +support her. And she could not be too old to go to school. +He would arrange for that—not in the school where +Athalie was to be, however! Perhaps she herself would +have a preference. He would ask her. He reached his hand +for her letter, which lay on the top of the pile where he +had dropped it the night before, for both Molly and Anne +had been well trained by the former master that the papers +on that desk were sacred and never to be touched.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>As he drew the letter toward him and his eyes fell +again upon those unaccustomed words: “Dear Father,” +something sad and sweet like a forgotten thrill of tenderness +went through him, and the face of his beautiful young +wife came up before his vision as it had not come now +in years.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>But before he could read further, or even realize that +he had not finished reading the letter the day before, the +telephone rang out sharply in the prolonged titillation +that proclaims a long-distance call, and he dropped the +paper and reached for the receiver.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>It was the distant school, and the principal for whom +they had been searching; but she did not fall in with +Patterson Greeves’ plans with readiness, as he had expected, +although she at once recognized him. Instead, her voice +was anxious and distraught and she vetoed his arrangements +emphatically. An epidemic of measles had broken +out in the school in most virulent form. The school was +under strict quarantine, and it was even doubtful, as it was +now so late in the spring, whether they would open again +until fall. They could not possibly accept his daughter +under the circumstances.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>In the midst of his dismay there came an excited tapping +at the door, following certain disturbing sounds of +commotion in the hall, which had not yet been fully +analyzed in his consciousness, but which rushed in now to +his perturbed mind as if they had been penned up while he +telephoned and lost none of their annoying element by the +fact that they were but memories.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He called “Come in,” and Anne Truesdale in her +immaculate morning alpaca and stiff white apron and cuffs +stood before him, a bright spot of color in her already +rosy cheeks, and a look of indignant excitement in her +dignified blue eyes.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“If you please, Master Pat—” she began hurriedly, +with a furtive glance over her shoulder, “there’s a strange +young woman at the front door—”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Hello! Daddy Pat!” blared out a hoydenish young +voice insolently, and the young woman, who had stayed +not on the order of her going, appeared behind the horrified +back of the housekeeper.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>For Athalie Greeves, never at a loss for a way to carry +out her designs and get all the fun there was going, had +not waited decorously at the city station for the train +which should have brought her to Silver Sands, but had +called from his early morning slumbers a one-time lover +of her mother whose address she looked up in the telephone +book, and made him bring her out in his automobile. +In his luxurious car he was even now disappearing cityward +having an innate conviction that he and her father would +not be congenial.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Patterson Greeves swung around sharply, his hand still +on the telephone, his mind a startled blank, and stared.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Anne Truesdale stiffened into indignant reproof, her +hands clasped tightly at her white-aproned waist, her chin +drawn in like a balky horse, her nostrils spread in almost +a snort, as the youngest daughter of the house sauntered +nonchalantly into the dignified old library and cast a +quick, appraising glance about, levelling her gaze on her +father with a half-indifferent impudence.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Bring my luggage right in here, Quinn! Didn’t you +say your name was Quinn?” she ordered imperiously. “I +want to show dad some things I’ve brought. Bring them +in <span class='it'>here</span> I said! Didn’t you hear me?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The old servitor hovered anxiously in the offing, a +pallor in his humble, intelligent face, a troubled eye on +his master’s form in the dim shadow of the book-lined +room. He turned a deprecatory glance on Anne Truesdale, +as he entered with two bags, a shiny suitcase, a hat-box, +a tennis-racket, and a bag of golf-sticks, looking for an +unobtrusive corner in which to deposit them and thereby +stop the noisy young tongue which seemed to him to be +committing irretrievable indignities to the very atmosphere +of the beloved old house.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Take them out, Joe,” said Anne Truesdale in her +quiet voice of command.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“No, you <span class='it'>shan’t</span> take them out!” screamed Athalie, +stamping her heavy young foot indignantly. “I want +them here! Put them right down there! <span class='it'>She</span> has nothing +to say about it!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Joe vibrated from the library to the hall and back +again uncertainly and looked pitifully toward his master.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Put the things in the hall, Joe, and then go out and +shut the door!” ordered the master with something in his +controlled voice that caused his daughter to look at him +with surprise. Joe obeyed, Anne Truesdale thankfully +melted away, and Patterson Greeves found himself in +the library alone with his child.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie faced him with storm in her face.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I think you are a perfectly horrid old thing!” she +declared hysterically with a look in her eyes that at once +reminded him of her mother. “I said I wanted those +things in here and <span class='it'>I’m going to have them</span>! I guess they +are <span class='it'>my</span> things, aren’t they?” She faced him a second +defiantly and then opened the door swiftly, thereby causing +a scuttling sound in the back hall near the kitchen +entrance. Vehemently she recovered her property, banging +each piece down with unnecessary force and slamming +the door shut with a comical grimace of triumph toward +the departed servants.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Now, we’re ready to talk!” she declared, with suddenly +returning good humor, as she dropped to the edge +of a large leather chair and faced her father again.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Patterson Greeves was terribly shaken and furiously +angry, yet he realized fully that he had the worst of +the argument with this child as he had nearly always had +with her mother, and he felt the utter futility of attempting +further discipline until he had a better grasp of the +situation. As he sat in his uncle’s comfortable leather +chair, entrenched as it were in this fine old dignified castle, +it seemed absurd that a mere child could rout him, could +so put his courage to flight and torment his quiet world. +He turned his attention upon her as he might have turned +it upon some new specimen of viper that had crossed his +path and become annoying; and once having looked, he +stared and studied her again.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>There was no denying that Athalie Greeves was pretty +so far as the modern world counts prettiness. Some of +the girls in her set called her “simply stunning,” and the +young men with whom she was contemporary called her +a “winner.” She was fair and fat and fourteen with +handsome teeth and large, bold, dark eyes. But the lips +around the teeth were too red, and the lashes around the +eyes overladen, I might almost have said <span class='it'>beaded</span>. Her +fairness had been accentuated to the point of ghastliness, +with a hectic point in each cheek which gave her the appearance +of an amateur pastel portrait.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>She wore a cloth suit of bright tan, absurdly short and +narrow for her size. A dashing little jade-green suède +hat beaded in black and white sat jauntily on a bushy head +of bobbed and extraordinarily electrified black hair, and +whatever kind of eyebrows she had possessed had been +effectually plucked and obliterated, their substitutes being +so finely pencilled and so far up under the overshadowing +hat-brim as to be practically out of the running. She +wore flesh-colored silk stockings and tall, unbuckled, flapping +galoshes with astrakhan tops, out of which her plump +silken ankles rose sturdily. Her father sat and stared at +her for a full minute. No biological specimen had ever +so startled or puzzled him. Was this then his child? His +and Lilla’s? How unexpected! How impossible! How +terrible!</p> + +<p class='pindent'>It wasn’t as if she were just Lilla, made young again, +pretty and wily and sly, with a delicate feminine charm +and an underlying falseness. That was what he had expected. +That was what he was prepared for. That he could +have borne. But this creature was gross—coarse—openly +brazen, almost as if she had reverted to primeval type, +and yet—vile thought! he could see all the worst traits +of himself stamped upon that plump, painted young face.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie gave a self-conscious tilt to her head and +enquired in a preening voice:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, how do you like me?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The man started, an unconscious moan coming to his +lips, and dropped his head into his hands; then swung +himself up angrily and strode back and forth across the +far end of the room, glaring at her as he walked and +making no reply. It was obvious that he was forcing +himself to study her in detail, and as his eyes dropped to +her feet he paused in front of her and enquired harshly:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Haven’t you any—any <span class='it'>hosiery</span>?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Perhaps the good attendant angels smothered a hysterical +laugh, but Athalie, quite wrought upon in her nerves +by this time and not a little hurt, stretched out a plump +silken limb indignantly.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I should like to know what fault you have to find +with my stockings?” she blazed angrily. “They cost +four dollars and a half a pair and are imported, with hand-embroidered +clocks—”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He looked down at the smooth silk ankles helplessly.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“You are too stout to wear things like that!” he +said coldly, and let his glance travel up again to her face. +“How did they let you get so stout anyway? It can’t +be natural at your age!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The full painted lips trembled for an instant and real +red flared under the powder of the cheek, then she gave +her head a haughty toss.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“You aren’t very polite, are you? Lilla said I’d find +you that way, but I thought maybe you had changed since +she saw you. She told me—”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“You needn’t trouble to mention anything that your +mother said about me. I shouldn’t care to hear it,” he +said coldly.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, Lilla’s my mother, if I have come to live with +you, and I shall mention what I like. You can’t stop me!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>There was defiance in the tone and in her glance that +swept remindingly toward the pile of luggage at her feet, +and he veered away from another encounter.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Do you always call your mother by her first name? +It doesn’t sound very respectful.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, bother respect! Why should I respect her? Certainly, +I call her Lilla! I had it in mind to call you Pat too, +if I liked you well enough, but if you keep on like this +I’ll call you Old Greeves! So there! Oh, heck! This +isn’t beginning very well—” she pouted, “Let’s start over +again. Here Pat, let’s sit down and be real friendly. Have +a cigarette?” and she held forth a gay little gold case with +a delightfully friendly woman-of-the-world air, much +as her mother might have done. As she stood thus poised +with the golden bauble held in her exquisitely manicured +rose-leaf hands she seemed the epitome of all that was +insolent and sensual to her horrified and disgusted father. +He felt like striking her down. He wanted to curse her +mother for allowing her to grow up into this, but most +of all he felt a loathing for himself that he had made himself +responsible for this abnormal specimen of womanhood. +Scarcely more than a child and yet wearing the charm of +the serpent with ease.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Then suddenly the shades of all the Silvers looking +down upon him from the painted canvasses on the wall, +the sweetly highborn gentlewomen and gentlemen of +strong, fine character, seemed to rise in audience on the +scene and bring him back to the things he had been taught +and had always deep down in his heart believed, no matter +how far he had wandered from their practice. And here +was this child, scarcely turned toward womanhood, daring +to offer her father a cigarette, daring to strike a match +pertly and light one for herself; here in this old Silver +house, where grandmothers of four generations had been +<span class='it'>ladies</span>, and where dear Aunt Lavinia had taught him his +golden texts every Sunday morning—taught him about +purity and righteousness. Oh! it was all her sweet, blind +innocence—her ignorance of the world, of course, yet +sweet and wonderful. And to have this child—<span class='it'>his child</span> +transgressing the old order in her playful, brazen way! +It was too terrible! His child! Flesh of his flesh!</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Athalie!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, don’t you <span class='it'>smoke</span>? I thought all real <span class='it'>men</span> smoked. +Lilla said”—she pursed her lips and lifted her cigarette +prettily.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Athalie!” he thundered, “Never mind what your +mother said! Don’t you dare to smoke in this house! +Don’t you ever let me see you—”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, very well! Shall I go outside? Perhaps you’ll +take a little walk down the street with me—”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The child was roused. There were sparks in her dark +eyes. She looked very much like the old Lilla he knew so +well. This was not the way to handle her. He was bungling +everything. What should he do? He must establish +his authority. The court had handed her over to his charge. +What a mistake! He should have had her when she was +young if he was ever to hope to do anything with her. But +he must do <span class='it'>something</span>. He reached out a sudden hand and +took possession of the cigarette and case before the surprised +girl had time to protest.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Those are not fit things for a young girl to have,” he +said sternly. “While you are under my protection it must +not happen again. Do you understand?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>She pouted.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“You wouldn’t talk!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I can’t talk to you while you look like that,” he said +with a note of desperation in his voice, “Go upstairs and +wash your face. And haven’t you got some less outlandish +clothes? You look like a circus child. I’m ashamed to +look at you!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He stepped to the wall and rang a bell while Athalie, +after staring at him in utter dismay burst into sudden and +appalling tears. Almost simultaneously Anne Truesdale +appeared at the door with a white, frightened face looking +from one to the other. Patterson Greeves registered a distinct +wish that a portion of the floor might open and +swallow him forever, but he endeavored to face the situation +like a Silver and a master in his own house.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“This is my daughter Athalie, Mrs. Truesdale, and +she wishes to wash her face and change her apparel. Will +you kindly show her to a room and see that her bags are +brought up and that she has everything she needs? I +did not expect her to arrive so soon or I would have given +you warning. It was my intention to keep her in school—”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh-h-h-h!” moaned Athalie into a scrap of a green +and black bordered handkerchief—“O—hhhhh!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Anne Truesdale looked at the plump tailored shoulders +as she might have looked at a stray cat whom she was +told to put out of the room, and then rose to the occasion. +She slid a firm but polite arm around the reluctant guest +and drew her from the room, and Patterson Greeves shut +the library door and dropped with a groan into his chair, +burying his face in his hands and wishing he had never +been born. Somehow the sight of his daughter weeping, +with her foolish frizzled hair and her fat, flesh-colored +silk legs in their flapping galoshes, being led away by +“Trudie,” as he always used to call the housekeeper, +made him suddenly recognize her species. She was a +flapper! The most despicable thing known to girlhood, +according to his bred and inherited standards. The thing +that all the newspapers and magazines held in scorn and +dread; the thing that all noted people were writing about +and trying to eradicate; the thing they were afraid of +and bowed to, and let be; and his child was a <span class='it'>flapper</span>!</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Just as after long and careful study a new specimen +would at last unexpectedly reveal some trait by which +he could place it, so now his child had shown forth her +true character.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>It was terrible enough to acknowledge; it was easy +enough to understand how it had come about; but the +thing to consider was, what was he going to do about it? +How could he do anything? It was too late! And God +thought men would believe in Him when He let things +like this happen! Somehow all his bitterness of the years +seemed to have focussed on this one morning. All that +he called in scorn the “outraged faith of his childhood” +seemed to rise and protest against his fate, proving that +he still had some faith lurking in his soul, else how could +he blame a God who did not exist?</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He rose and paced his study back and forth, dashing +his rumpled hair from his forehead, glaring about on the +familiar old room that had always spoken to him of things +righteous and orderly, as if in some way it too, with God, +were to blame for what had befallen him. He had taken +perhaps three turns back and forth in his wrath and +perplexity when he was aware that a light tapping on +the door had been going on for perhaps several seconds. +He swung to the door and jerked it angrily open. Had +that girl concluded her toilet so soon, before he had thought +what to do about her? Well, he would tell her exactly +what she was, what a disgrace to a fine old family; what +a—mistake—what a—!</p> + +<p class='pindent'>In the hall stood Anne Truesdale with deprecatory +air, her fingers working nervously with the corner of +her apron, which she held as if to keep her balance. Her +beloved Master Pat had turned into an inscrutable old +ogre whom she loved, but scarcely dared to brave. She +felt assured, in view of the modern young specimen upstairs, +that he had reason to be in this mood, and she but +adored and feared him the more, after the old-fashioned +feminine way, that he had it in him to storm around in +this fashion; but she was frightened to death to have +to deal with him while it lasted. Behind her, smiling +quite assured, and splendid to look upon this morning with +the soot washed from his face, and his big body attired +fittingly, stood the minister, a book in his hand and a +look of pleasant anticipation in his face.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Then Patterson Greeves remembered as in a dream +of something far past that he had invited the minister to +take a hike with him this morning and afterwards lunch +with him. The boy Blink was to have gone along. How +fair and innocent the prospect compared to what had +now befallen him! He looked as one who was about to +tear his hair, so helpless and tragic his eyes.</p> + +<h2>IV</h2> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh! It’s you!” There was at least a wistfulness +in his tone.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Good morning!” said the minister. “Am I—? Perhaps +our plans are not convenient for you this morning—?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh!” said Patterson Greeves stupidly, as if he had +just remembered.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“You look done out, man! Is anything the matter? +Can I help? If not, sha’n’t I just leave this book I +promised and run along till another time?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“No. Come in!” said Patterson Greeves with a +desperate look in his face. “You’re a minister! It’s your +business to help people in trouble. I’m in the deuce of a +mess and no mistake. You can’t help me out. Nobody +can. But it would afford me some satisfaction to ask you +how the devil you can go around preaching the love of +God when He allows such Satanic curses to fall on men?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Bannard gave him a quick, keen glance, and set his +clean-shaven lips in a firm line as he threw his hat on the +hall console and stepped inside the door.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Anne Truesdale retreated hastily to the pantry and +paused to wipe a frightened tear from her white cheek. +The other servants must not suspect what had befallen +the master. Was this then the secret of the sadness of +his face, that he had forsaken the faith of his fathers +and taken to cursing and swearing. It made her shiver +even yet to remember how familiarly he had spoken of +the devil. Dear old Mr. Standish Silver! It was well +he was not present to be grieved! And little pretty Miss +Lavinia! If she had heard her darling’s voice talking +that way about her heavenly Father it would have killed +her outright! Just have killed her outright! Oh, it was +sad times, and the world a growing weary instead of +bright. And she so glad but the day before that Master +Pat was coming home! Poor Master Pat! She must +order waffles for lunch. He was always so fond of them. +She must do all in her power to win him back to right +living. It must have been that awful war! They said +some of the officers were that careless! And of course +he’d been a long time away from home. Poor Master Pat! +She must pray for him humbly. There was no one else +left to do it. That was what Miss Lavinia would have +done, crept to her old padded wing-chair and knelt long +with the shades drawn. So she always did when Master +Pat was a boy and did wrong. There was the time when +he told his first lie. How she minded that day. Miss +Lavinia ate nothing for a whole four and twenty hours, +just fasted and prayed.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>She too would fast, and would go to Miss Lavinia’s +room and the old wing-chair, and draw the shades and +lock the door, and pray for the master! Perhaps if she +fasted, humble though she was, her prayer might be heard +and answered. She would ask for the sake of Miss Lavinia +and his uncle Silver. They had always stood well with +Heaven. They must be beloved of the Lord. It would +be terrible to have their nephew come out an unbeliever +in these days of unbelief. The family must not be disgraced. +But she must not let the servants know that she +was fasting. They must not find that aught was amiss +with the master. Surely the Lord would hear and all +might yet be well in spite of the awful young woman that +had arrived, apparently to remain.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>So she scuttled away to Miss Lavinia’s sunny south +bedroom and locked the door.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Downstairs Patterson Greeves gave his guest a chair +and began to pour out invectives against God.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Bannard listened a moment, head up, a startled, searching, +almost pitying look in his eyes, then he arose with +an air of decision.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Look here, Greeves, you can’t expect me to sit quietly +and listen while you abuse my best Friend! I can’t do +it!” and he turned sharply toward the door.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Patterson Greeves stared at his guest with surprise +and a growing sanity and apology in his eyes.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I beg your pardon,” he said brusquely. “I suppose +God must be that to you or you wouldn’t be in the business +you are. I hadn’t realized that there was anybody with an +education left on earth that still felt that way, but you look +like an honest man. Sit down and tell me how on earth you +reconcile this hell we live in with a loving and kindly +Supreme Being.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“You don’t look as if you were in the mood for a +discussion on theology to do you any good now,” answered +the younger man quietly. “I would rather wait until +another time for a talk like that. Is there anything I +can do for you, friend, or would you rather I got out +of your way just now?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“No, stay if you don’t mind my ravings. I have an +idea you’d be a pretty good friend to have and I’ve been +hard hit. The fact is, I suppose I’ve been a good deal of +a fool! I married again. A woman who was utterly selfish +and unprincipled. We’ve been divorced for years. +Now suddenly our daughter is thrust back upon me, a +decree of the court I’d utterly forgotten! She arrived +without warning and she’s the most impossible specimen +of young womanhood I’ve ever come across—! If a +loving God could ever—! What are you smiling about +man? It’s no joke I’m telling you—!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I was thinking how much you remind me of a man +I have been reading about in the Bible. Jehoram is his +name. Ever make his acquaintance?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Not especially,” answered Greeves coldly, with evident +annoyance at the digression. “He was one of those +old Israelitish kings, wasn’t he?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Yes, a king, but he blamed God for the results of +his own action.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Mm! Yes. I see! But how am I to blame for having +a daughter like that? Didn’t God make her what +she is? Why couldn’t she have been the right kind of a +girl? How was I to blame for that?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“You married a woman whom you described as utterly +selfish and unprincipled, didn’t you? You left the child +in her keeping during these first formative years. What +else could you expect but that she would be brought up +in a way displeasing to yourself?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The scientist took three impatient turns up and down +the room before he attempted to answer.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Man! How could I know? Such a thing wasn’t +in my thoughts—! I insist it was a dastardly thing to +wreak vengeance on me in this way. No, you can’t convince +me. This thing came from your God—if there is +such a being. I’ve been watching and waiting through +the years for a turn in my luck to prove that the God +I’d been taught loved me had any thought toward me. +But this is too much. Why should I wait any longer? +I <span class='it'>know</span>! God, if there is a God, is a God of hate rather +than love.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Jehoram’s exact words,” said the minister. “ ‘This +evil is of the Lord. Why should I wait for the Lord +any longer?’ ”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Exactly!” said Greeves. “Don’t you see? Jehoram +was a wise man. I respect him.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“But he found he was mistaken, you know. Wait +till ‘tomorrow about this time’ and perhaps you too will +find it out. God’s purposes always work out—”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Patterson Greeves wheeled and looked sharply at his +visitor. “What do you mean, ‘tomorrow about this +time’?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Go read the story of Jehoram and you’ll understand. +The city was in a state of siege. The people were starving; +crazed by hunger, were eating their own children, and +appealing to the king to settle their demoniacal quarrels. +The king was blaming God for it all, and suddenly the +prophet appeared and told him that ‘tomorrow about this +time’ there would be plenty to eat and cheap enough for +everybody. How do you know but tomorrow about this +time God may have relief and joy all planned and on +the way?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Greeves turned away impatiently and began his angry +pacing of the room again.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, that’s the kind of idealism you were prating +about last night with your dreams that God was working +out His purposes for the laboring classes and all that bosh! +Excuse me, but I don’t believe any such rot any more for +the classes or the nations than I do for the individual. Take +myself for instance. If I don’t send off a letter I just wrote +to stop it, by tomorrow about this time I may have a worse +mess on my hands than I have now. I tell you your God +has it in for me! I didn’t tell you I had another daughter, +did I? Well, I have, and she’s taken it into her head to +come here also. Here! Read this letter!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He caught up Silver’s letter and thrust it into the +young man’s hand. The minister glanced at the clear +handwriting, caught the words “Dear Father,” and +pressed it back upon Greeves.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I oughtn’t to read this!” he said earnestly.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Yes! Read!” commanded the older man. “I want +you to know the situation. Then perhaps you’ll understand +my position. I’d like to have one person in the +town who understands.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Bannard glanced through the lines with apology and +deference in his eyes.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“This is no letter to be ashamed of!” he exclaimed +as he read. “This girl had a good mother, I’m sure! Or a +good grandmother, anyway!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Greeves stopped suddenly by the window, staring out +with unseeing eyes, and his voice was husky with feeling +when he spoke, after an instant of silence.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“She had the best grandmother in the world I think—but—her +<span class='it'>mother</span> was <span class='it'>wonderful</span>!” There was reverence +and heart-break in the tones.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Ah!” said the minister earnestly. “Then she will +be like her mother!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I <span class='it'>could not bear it</span>—if she were like her mother!” +breathed the man at the window with a voice almost like +a sob, and flung himself away from the light, pacing +excitedly back to the shadowed end of the room.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“But you say you have written her not to come?” interrupted +the minister suddenly, glancing thoughtfully at +the missive in his hand. “Why did you do that? I should +think from the letter she might be a great help. Why not +let her come?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The father wheeled sharply again, kicking a corner of +the rug that almost tripped him as if it had personality +and were interfering with his transit.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Let her come! Let her come here and meet that +other girl? Not on any account. I—<span class='it'>could not bear it</span>!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Again that tortured wistfulness in his voice like a +half sob.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The minister watched him curiously with a sorrowful +glance at the letter in his hand.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I don’t quite see—<span class='it'>how you can bear not to</span>!” he +said slowly. “After reading that appeal for your love—!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Appeal? What appeal? I don’t know what you +mean?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He caught the letter hurriedly and dashed himself +into his desk chair with a deep sigh, beginning to read +with hurried, feverish eyes.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Man! I didn’t read all this before! I was so upset! +And then the other girl came!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>There was silence for an instant while he read. Then +his eyes lifted with a look of almost fear in them.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Man alive!” he gasped, “she’s coming this morning! +My letter will be too late!” He caught up the envelope +he had so recently addressed and looked at it savagely as +if somehow it were to blame. “Too late!” He flung it +angrily on the floor, where it slid under the edge of the +desk and lay. The tortured man jerked himself out of his +chair again and began his walk up and down.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“What shall I do? You’re a minister. You ought +to know. She’s on her way now. She’ll be here in a +few minutes and I can’t have her. She mustn’t meet +that other girl! I can’t have Alice’s child see her! What +would you do? Oh, why did God let all this situation come +about?” He wheeled impatiently and stamped off again.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I’ll have to get the other one off to school somewhere, +I suppose. You wouldn’t be willing to meet that +train and say I was called away, would you? Get her to +go to a hotel in the city somewhere and wait? I could hire +an automobile and take Athalie away. Perhaps there’s a +school near her old home. Wait! I know a woman on +the Hudson—I wonder—‘Give me long distance, central’.” +He caught up the phone and began to tap the +floor with his foot, glancing anxiously toward the clock +that was giving a warning whirr preparatory to striking. +“What time does that train get in, Bannard? Have you +a time-table?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Bannard glanced at the clock.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Why! You haven’t much time,” he said in a startled +tone. “It gets here at eleven ten. Would you like my +car?” He stepped to the window, glanced out, gave a +long, low musical whistle, and in a moment Blink +appeared, darting up the front walk warily, with eyes on +the front window.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The minister leaned out of the window and called:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Blink, can you get my car here from the garage in +five minutes? I want to meet that train.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Blink murmured a nonchalant “Sure!” and was gone. +The minister turned back to the frantic father, who was +foaming angrily at the telephone-operator and demanding +better service.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Mr. Greeves,” he said placing his hand on the other’s +arm affectionately, “my car will be here in a moment. I +think you had better take it and meet your daughter. It will +be embarrassing for her to have to meet a stranger—”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Patterson Greeves shook his head angrily.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“No, no! I can’t meet her! I can’t help it! She’ll +have to be embarrassed then. She got up the whole trouble +by coming, didn’t she? Well, she’ll have to take the consequences. +I have to stay here and get this other one off +somewhere. I’ll send her back to her mother if I can’t +do anything else! I won’t be tormented this way. I know. +You’re thinking this is no way for a father to act, but +I’m not a father! I’ve never had the privileges of a father +and I don’t intend to begin now. If my wife had lived +it would have been different—! But she had to be taken +away—! ‘Central! Central! Can’t you give me long +distance?’ ”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He set the instrument jiggling snappily, and down +the long flight of polished mahogany stairs heavy, reluctant +footsteps could be heard approaching.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Patterson Greeves hung up the receiver with a click +and wheeled about in his chair with an ashen look, +listening.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“She’s coming now!” he exclaimed nervously. “I’ll +have to do something. Bannard, if you’d just take that +car of yours and go meet that train, I’ll be everlastingly +obliged to you. If you don’t want to do it, let her get +here the best way she can. It will give us that much +more time. I’ve got to do something with Athalie at +once—!” He arose and went anxiously toward the door, +opening it a crack and listening. The steps came on, slowly, +and yet more slowly. The minister pitied his new friend +from the bottom of his heart, and yet there was a humorous +side to the situation. To think of a man of this one’s +attainments and standing being afraid of a mere girl, +afraid of two girls! His own children! It was a simple +matter, of course, to meet a train and tell the girl her +father had been occupied for the time. The car slid +briskly up to the curb in the street on time to the dot, and +the minister turned pleasantly and picked up his hat.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I’ll go. Certainly. What do you wish me to say +to her?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh! Nothing. Anything! You’ll have to bring her +here I suppose! Make it as long a trip as possible, won’t +you? I’ll try to clear the coast somehow—!” He glanced +down at the huddled baggage of his younger daughter +with a troubled frown. “There’s a carriage here—The +servants will—Well, I’ll see what can be done. You better +go quickly please!” He looked nervously toward the door, +and Bannard opened it and hurried out to his car, +Athalie entering almost as he left, her eyes upon the +departing visitor.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Who was that stunning-looking man, dad? Why +didn’t you introduce me? You could just as well as not, +and I don’t want to waste any time getting to know people. +It’s horribly dull in a new place till you know everybody.”</p> + +<h2>V</h2> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie entered with nonchalance and no sign of the +recent tears. Her face had perhaps been washed and a +portion of her complexion removed, but she still had a vivid +look and her hair was more startling than ever, now that +her rakish hat was removed. It stood out in a fluffy puff-ball +like a dandelion gone to seed, and gave her an amazing +appearance. Her father stared at her with a fascinated +horror and was speechless.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>She had changed her travelling frock for an accordion-pleated +affair of soft jade-green silk with an expansive +neck-line and sleeves that were slit several times from +wrist to shoulder and swung jauntily in festoon-like serpentine +curves around and among her plump pink arms. +She had compromised on a pair of black chiffon-silk stockings +with openwork clocking and black satin sandals with +glittering little rhinestone clasps. A platinum wrist-watch +and a glitter of jewels attended every movement +of her plump pink hands with their pointed sea-shell finger-tips, +and a long string of carved ivory beads swung downward +from her neck and mingled with the clutter of a +clattering, noisy little girdle. No wonder he stared. And +she had done all that amazing toilet while he was talking +with the minister.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He stared, and her dimples began to come with reminder +of her mother in the old luring way, filling him +with pain and anger and a worse than helplessness. Her +mother’s face was not so fat as hers, but the dimples went +and came with such familiar play!</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Dad, you needn’t think you can keep me shut up +away from things,” she said archly. “I’m going to know +all your men friends and be real chummy with them. The +men always like me. I’m like Lilla in that! They bring +me stacks of presents and slews of chocolates. I’ve got +a lot of going-away boxes in my trunks. Some of them +are jimdandies. This watch is a present from Bobs. You +know who Bobs is, don’t you? Bobs Farrell. He was +dead gone on Lilla. He gave me this watch on my last +birthday. It’s platinum and diamonds. Isn’t it great? +He brought me out in his car this morning or I would have +had to wait two hours. When I found out what time +this little old train started, I just called up his apartment +and he came right down and got me and took me up to his +place for breakfast. He has the darlingest apartments all +by himself with a Japanese man to wait on him, and the +most adorable cooking! And he’s going to have a theatre +party for me some night with a dinner afterward at his +apartment. Won’t that be simply great? I’m to ask +any two girls from school I like, and he will get the men. +And by the way, Daddy, I’ve invited a house party for +the first week in June. You don’t mind, do you? There +are ten of the girls in my class and I’ve promised them +the time of their life. The fellows won’t be here only at +the week-end. They have to be back at prep. Monday +morning. Their old school doesn’t close for two weeks +after ours.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>His most amazing child had rattled on without let-up +thus far, and this was the first period he had been able +to grasp. He hastened to avail himself of it, meanwhile +glancing nervously at the clock.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“School! Yes. School! May I ask why you are +not in school yourself?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh!” she wreathed the dimples coquettishly around +her red lips, “why! didn’t you know I had been fired!” +She dimpled charmingly as though it were something to be +proud about. “I suppose Lilla didn’t tell you because she +was afraid you’d be shocked, but you might as well know +all about it at the start. It saves misunderstandings. You +see, we had a pajama party!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“A pajama party!” cried the horrified father.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“O, now, daddy Pat! You needn’t pull a long face +and make out you never did such things. You know you +had gay times when you went to school, and you can’t +be young but once. There isn’t anything so terrible in +a pajama party! You see the whole trouble was I got +caught out on the fire-escape in mine and all the rest got +away, so I had to be fired, but it was fun. I don’t care. +I’d be fired over again just to see how Guzzy Foster, that’s +the math. prof., looked when that ice and salt went down +his back. You see it was this way. One of the girls +had a dandy box from home, and she happened to tell +one of the boys from the military prep. that she had it, +and he coaxed to get some of the things. So May Beth +told him if he and some of his friends would come under +the fire-escape at exactly midnight she’d drop down a box +of cake for them. Well, everything went all right till the +party was almost over and the girls had eaten all they could +stuff, and they had the box for the boys all packed and I +was to go out and throw it down to them because May +Beth had an awful cold and her pajamas were just thin +crêpe de Chine and she was all of a shiver anyway from +eating so much cold ice cream. So I said I didn’t mind +even if it was cold. I thought it would be fun, and I went +out with the box and whistled softly for the boys, and +they answered once, and then, it was all very still. It was +moonlight and I could see them lined up among the bushes +on the campus. I swung the box over the railing and +whispered, ‘Here she comes,’ and just as I did it I somehow +caught my toe in the burlap that came off the ice-cream +freezer—I had on Tillie Irvin’s pink satin mules +with forget-me-nots on them, and she was sore as a boil +at me about that too—and then before I knew what was +happening, I somehow hit the ice-cream freezer and +knocked it over, and <span class='it'>slosh!</span> out went all the sloppy ice and +salt water through the iron grating of the fire-escape, +and I looked down and there was Guzzy Foster—he and +his wife have their apartment right under my room, and +we thought they were away for the week-end, that’s why +we chose my room for the party—he was just inside his +window with his head stuck out of an old red bath robe +looking up—the old ferret. He was always snooping +round to stop any fun that was going—and he caught the +whole stream of icy salt water full in his face and down +his old mathematical back, and I hope he gets pneumonia +from it. He’s the limit! Well, I heard him gasp and +splutter, and draw in his head, and I heard the boys snicker +down in the bushes and scatter out to the street—they +got the cake all right. I called one of ’em up on the phone +at the station before I left and found out—and I just +danced up and down in those pink satin mules with the +forget-me-nots and howled for a minute, it was so funny. +And then all of a sudden I realized it had got very still +behind me and I looked in the window and the lights were +out. There wasn’t a sound of a girl to be heard, and down +the hall I could hear hard steps that sounded like Mrs. +Foster, so I tried to get in the window, but it was fastened! +Babe Heath did that because she thought if the window +was locked they wouldn’t think to look out. But there +was I in thin china-silk pajamas and the wind blowing up +from the river like ice! It was grand skating the next +day, so you may know it was pretty fierce! But I stuck +it out till she found me, and they fired me so quick Lilla +didn’t have a chance to come and see what was the matter. +They just sent me home that night in charge of Guzzy +Foster himself. His name’s Augustus Charles, but we call +him Guzzy and I had a horrid, horrid time, so it’s up to +you to be good to me!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Patterson Greeves gasped, and grasped the arms of +the big chair into which he had dropped as Athalie entered, +looking at his child in abject helplessness.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The distant sound of an approaching train stirred him +to nervous action once more.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I certainly cannot approve of your outrageous conduct,” +he began, in a tone such as he might have used in +his classroom. “It was inexcusable, impossible, indecent—! +I cannot think how a girl could bring herself +to so demean herself. And the first thing you must do will +be to write a humble acknowledgment and apology to the +principal of the institution and promise that for the future +your conduct shall be irreproachable. I will see at once +about your reinstatement, and I cannot countenance in +future any disregard of the rules of the school or of the +rules of good breeding.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>But the girl broke in with a boisterous laugh:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“What’s that you say? Me go back to that school? +Well, I guess anyhow not. <span class='it'>Not on your life, I don’t!</span> You +couldn’t <span class='it'>drag</span> me within sight of the old dump. I’m done +with it forever, and I’ll tell the world <span class='it'>I’m glad</span>! Why? +Don’t you like me? Doesn’t this dress suit you any better? +I’ve got some stunners in my trunks. When do you think +they will bring them out from the city? Can’t we get a +car and go after them? I’m just dying to show you some +of my things, and the big portrait of Lilla she had taken +for the General—!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Greeves arose, white and angry.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Get on your things at once!” he almost shouted. +“We are going back to your school. It is impossible for +you to stay here. I am a very busy man. I have important +work to do.” He glanced wildly at his watch, and +then gave a quick look out of the window as he strode to +the bell and touched it, flinging open the hall door and +looking up the stairs.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“But I am not going back to school!” declared Athalie +with a black look. “I’m going to stay right here! I won’t +be the least trouble in the world. I’ll have my friends, +and you can have yours. I’ll go my way, and you can go +yours. That’s the way Lilla and I always did. Only, +Daddy Pat, have we got to have that old limb of a housekeeper +around? I hate her! I couldn’t get on with her +a day. I’m sure I’d shock her. She’s a pie-faced hypocrite +and you’d better fire her. I’ll run the house. I know +how! Daddy Pat—may I call you <span class='it'>Pat</span>?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“<span class='it'>No!</span>” thundered the scientist. “You may not. You +may say ‘Father’ if it’s necessary to call me anything!” +He glared at her. “And you may go to your room at once +and stay there until I send for you!” he added suddenly, +as he glanced once more out of the window and saw an +automobile draw up before the door. Then both of them +became aware that Anne Truesdale stood in the open door, +her face as white as her starched apron, a look of consternation +upon her meek face and her hands clasped nervously +at her belt.</p> + +<h2>VI</h2> + +<p class='pindent'>It had not occurred to the minister until he came within +sight of the station and heard the whistle of the approaching +train, that he had come on a most embarrassing errand.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>It had appeared to him as he talked with her father +and read her letter that the girl he was about to escort to +her home might be anywhere between twelve and fifteen +years old. His information concerning Patterson Greeves’ +history had been vague and incomplete. He looked to be +a young man for all this experience, and the minister had +jumped to the conclusion that both girls were quite young.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>But when the train drew up at the station and the +only stranger who got out proved to be a lovely young +woman dressed with quiet but exquisite taste and with an +air of sweet sophistication, he became suddenly aware +that the errand he had come upon was one of an exceedingly +delicate nature and he wished with all his soul he had not +undertaken it.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>She carried a small suitcase in her hand and walked +with an air of knowing exactly where she was going. +She paused only an instant to glance about her and then +went straight to the station waiting-room and checked her +suitcase. She did it with so much apparent forethought +as if she had been there before and knew exactly what +she had to do, that the young man hesitated and looked +about for a possible other arrival who might be the girl +he came to meet. But the train snorted and puffed its way +slowly into motion and started on, and no other passengers +appeared. As she turned away from the checking desk he +came hesitantly upon her and their eyes met.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>She was slight and small with a well formed head +poised alertly, and delicate features that gave one the +sense of being moulded and used by a spirit alive to more +than the things of this earth. The impression was so +strong that he hesitated, with hat lifted in the very act +of introducing himself, to look again with startled directness +into a face that was so exactly a counterpart of what +he had dreamed a girl some day might be that he had the +feeling of having been thrust with appalling unreadiness +into her presence to whom he would have willed to come +with his soul newly shriven.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>She had violet eyes with a frank clear glance, hair that +curled naturally and frilled about her face catching the +sunbeams, lips that curved sweetly but firmly, and the +complexion of a wild rose newly washed in dew. She +looked like a spirit flower that yet was entirely able to take +care of herself on earth.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Is this—” he hesitated and remembered that he +did not know her name—finishing lamely “Mr. Greeves’ +daughter?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>She lifted her eyes, with a quick searching look and +smiled:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“You are not—You could not be—my father.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Bannard smiled.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“No, I have not that honor. Your father is—” he +hesitated again. Why hadn’t he thought up some excuse +for the father who was not there? It seemed inexcusable +now that he saw the daughter, not to meet such a daughter! +“Your father is—importantly engaged! He has but just +arrived himself!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He felt he was doing better.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“He only had opportunity to read your letter a few +minutes ago, and it was impossible for him to get to the +train. He asked me to meet you—”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>She smiled with a rich warm welcome for her father’s +friend and he felt a glow of comfort.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“My name is Bannard,” he finished, “I hope we’re +to be friends also.” He put out his hand and she took +it graciously and thanked him.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He piloted her to his car and helped her in, then +hesitated:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Your baggage? Didn’t I see you check a suitcase? +Wouldn’t you like me to get it?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>A soft rose bloomed out in the girl’s cheeks and the +fringes drooped deeply over her cheeks for an instant, +then she lifted steady eyes and said:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“No. I believe not, thank you. I’m not sure until +I see—my father—whether I shall remain or go on to +New York this afternoon.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He found himself strangely disturbed over this state +of things. He wanted to assure her that of course she +must not go on anywhere. This was the place that needed +her. But of course he could say nothing. He might not +even tell her that her father was in trouble. He had not +been given permission to do anything but convey her to +her home and that by as long a route as possible.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“We’re going by a round-about way,” he explained as +he headed his car for a detour quite away from the old +Silver Place. “There’s a bad bit of road they are repairing—” +he was thankful that he had happened to notice +the men at work on his way down and therefore could +truthfully give an explanation to this clear-eyed maiden +who it seemed to him must be able to read his embarrassment +through the very serge of his coat.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Shall we pass the old Presbyterian church?” she asked +eagerly leaning forward and looking about as though it +were a spot she knew well by heart but had never seen +with her eyes.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Why, yes, we can,” he responded eagerly, “Are you +especially interested in that?” and he looked down with +a smile and then a wonder at the light in her eyes.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“It is where my father went to church,” she answered, +as if conning things she had learned well—“and there is +a cemetery where my relatives are buried. I was interested +to see it.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He drove the car down a smooth ribbon of a road +that curved about with wooded land on one hand and +mellow fields of rippling green on the other, with a glimpse +off at the right of the Silver River and Frogtown factories +smothered in pale budding willows against a turquoise sky.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“It is beautiful here, isn’t it?” The girl’s eyes glowed. +She drew in long breaths of the spring air. There were +violets at the side of the road and it came to him how like +her eyes they were.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>They crossed a stone bridge and headed more directly +toward the river and she exclaimed over the bright winding +ribbon of water. Just because he had promised to +make the time long, because he liked to see the wild rose +color in the round cheeks glow when she opened her eyes +wide at the view, he slowed down the car and investigated +some minute squeak in the mechanism. Not that it was +important. Not that he did anything about it. Just a +pleasant little delay. It seemed to him he was experiencing +a charmed privilege which was slipping by all too fleetly, +and which he would grasp as it went. It might not ever +come his way again.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>On their way again they wound around the clump of +beeches and came into the main street of Silver Sands all +shining in the morning sunlight with serene houses on +either hand in long stretches of green, and new gardens +in geometrical lines behind the houses flanked by regiments +of bean poles. A wide straw hat sheltered a lady picking +strawberries in the patch of luxuriant vines. The breath +of the day was sweet with growing things. The people +walked crisply down the pleasant maple shaded pavements +as though the going were enjoyment. The anvil rang out +with silver sound from the blacksmith-shop as they passed. +People began to hail the minister with glad lighting of +eyes, and he was kept busy lifting his hat and waving his +hand cheerily. Even the boys in the street gave him a +greeting and then curiously half-jealous eyes turned to +study his companion as they swept on their way.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“They all know you,” the girl commented. “I’m +sure you must live in Silver Sands.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I do,” he responded. “It is a good place to live. My +particular corner is just down that next street, the white +house with the rose trellis over the door. I board with +a blessed old lady whom everybody calls Aunt Katie +Barnes. She nearly turns herself out of house and home +trying to find new ways of making me comfortable. It +is a very friendly community. They take one in heart +and soul.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>She flashed him an appreciative glance and asked +thoughtfully:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Have you known my father long?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, not so very long—” the minister answered—“that +is—you know he has only recently returned—but +we are wonderfully good friends considering the short +time. I—you—” he hesitated. There was something he +wanted to tell her for her reassurance, to answer the +question in her eyes which he felt sure she was too loyal +to her father to ask, but his lips were sealed. And after +all what was there to say even if they had not been? What +reassurance had he himself that the man he had left raving +at Fate in the old library would give any sort of an adequate +welcome to this pearl of a girl? He felt as if he wanted +to tell her that if her father wasn’t glad to see her he would +take him by the neck and shake him till he was. But one +couldn’t tell a strange girl things like that about her father.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“This is the Presbyterian church we are coming to +now, the one on the left. The main part was built in +sixteen hundred and seventeen. Hasn’t it nobly simple +lines? The stones have weathered to as fine a color as +any cathedral in the old world. I love to see it against +the sky with the sunset behind it. That spire is a thing of +beauty don’t you think? And those doves in the belfry +are a continual delight. Do you know Aldrich’s bit of +a verse, ‘And on the belfry sits a dove with purple ripples +on her neck?’ There goes one now swooping down to +the pavement. Did you see the silver flash on her wing? +And now we’re coming to the part of the cemetery where +your ancestors are buried. See that big gray granite +column? No, the plain one just beyond. That is the old +Silver lot. All the Silvers are lying there. Your grandfather +and great-grandfather and their wives in that centre +plot, and those side plots are for the sons and their +wives and children. It was a peculiar arrangement and +forethought of the first Silver settler and carried out by +each succeeding one in turn. There, those two gray stones +are for Standish Silver and his sister Lavinia, the last of +the family who bore the Silver name.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Aunt Lavinia and Uncle Standish. I have their pictures,” +said the girl softly as if doing homage to their +memory. “They brought up my father.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>She lifted shy friendly eyes:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Silver is my name, too. It’s a queer name for a girl +isn’t it? But I like it. I like to think I’m a Silver too.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“It is a beautiful name,” said the young man, doing +homage with his eyes.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“They were a wonderful people from all I hear. I +would like to have known them.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>And now all too soon they were at the Silver door and +he was helping her out of the car.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He found his heart pounding strangely with anticipation +for the girl at his side. How would she be received? +He felt as if he must stay by her till he was sure, although +delicacy dictated that he disappear as soon as his errand +was done.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Blink with nonchalant foresight was idly flipping +pebbles at a toad in the meadow from his perch on +the fence, his back to the road. At his feet, attentive +to each motion, apparently approving and aiding and abetting +the game barked a big yellow collie. The dog bounded +joyously across the road at sight of the car and precipitated +himself upon the minister with a wag and a glad grin of +recognition, then gave a friendly snuff to the girl’s hands, +looked up and smiled a dog greeting with open cordiality.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“What a dear dog!” exclaimed the girl. “What a +beauty!” She was bending over him with the enthusiasm +of a true dog lover and Blink sauntered idly over and leaned +against the car pleased at her demonstration, eyeing her +furtively, appraisingly. “May I introduce his master +Barry Lincoln, otherwise ‘Blink’ to his intimate friends?” +said Bannard.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The girl lifted frank, friendly eyes to Blink’s embarrassed +ones and liked him at once. She put out her +hand warmly and grasped his rough shy one as she might +have done to an older man, and the boy’s heart warmed +toward her.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“What a very interesting name!” she said gaily, “If +I stay here long I am sure I shall try to qualify to use it. +Is the dog’s name Link?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The boy grinned.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“He’s Buddie,” he admitted shyly.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, Buddie, I hope I meet you again,” she said, +with another flash of warmth in her eyes for the boy +whose own were now filled with open admiration. She +passed into the white gate and Blink looked after her with +a new stirring in his heart, call it loyalty if you like, Blink +had no idea what it was. He lifted his glance to the +minister’s smile and found the same thing in his friend’s +eyes, and an unspoken covenant flashed between them to +protect her if ever she needed their protection. Blink would +have expressed it in words, “She’s a good scout.” Blink +and the dog stood by the car, Buddie wagging his plume +of a tail vigorously, and watched the man and the girl go +up the flower-bordered walk to the big mullioned door.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>From inside the library Patterson Greeves watched +the two figures arrive.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Joe Quinn watched from the shelter of the smoke-bush +close to the lilac hedge where he was digging about the +tulip beds, and Molly the cook, having seen the car from +her pantry window, had hurried up to the front hall +window on pretext of looking for the housekeeper, and +was gazing down curiously on the two, wondering what +next was coming to the old house.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>At the extreme dark end of the back hall Anne +Truesdale, in hiding, could glimpse the minister’s hat +through the side lights of the hall door, and a snatch now +and then of the lady’s feather, and she stood with hand involuntarily +on her heart, waiting, not daring to come forth +till “that huzzy” as she thought of Athalie, had gone up +stairs. But Athalie, one foot on the lower step, had turned +back to look at her irate father, perfectly aware that he was +disturbed by the sight of something out of the window, and +herself caught a glimpse of the minister returning. Ah! +So that was why she was being sent upstairs! A good +looking young man and she bundled away! This was no +part of Miss Athalie’s plan of life, so she whirled about +on the lowest step and waited also.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Then the fine old knocker reverberated through the +long silent house, Patterson Greeves retreated hastily in +panic to his library and Anne Truesdale, chained to duty +by an inexorable conscience, was forced to come forth and +open the door.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The stage was set and the actors came on as the door +was timidly opened by Anne.</p> + +<h2>VII</h2> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie Greeves came noiselessly forward to the +library door, a look of expectancy on her round pink face, a +cat-and-cream expression about her lips. As noiselessly +Patterson Greeves forced himself to step to the doorway +again, a heavy frown upon his brow, a look of extreme suffering, +one would almost have said dread, in his eyes. Anne +with frightened eyes peered bravely round the door, and the +two on the wide flagging stones of the porch waited, the +girl with wistful eager, yet courageous eyes, ready for +either love or renunciation, whichever the indications +showed; the minister hovering tall above her, a look almost +of defiance on his strong face, an air of championship and +protection about him.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Nobody spoke for the first instant which seemed almost +like an eternity. The two girls saw each other first, for +Patterson Greeves stood within the library door.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The girl on the steps was gowned in a blue-gray tweed +suit, well fitted and tailored and a trim little soft blue +straw toque with a sharp black wing piquantly stabbing +the folds of the straw. Her hair was golden in the sunlight, +and as she stood seemed like a halo round her face. +The light of the morning was in her eyes as she peered +into the shadows of the hall, then suddenly grayed with +chill and reserve as she met the eyes of the other girl.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie’s plump face grew suddenly hard, her lips +drooped, her eyes glared, her head went slightly forward +with a look of stealth and jealousy and her hand went +instinctively out to catch the doorframe. Her whole form +seemed to crouch with a catlike motion, and green lights +danced in her eyes, though they might have been reflected +from her dress. The minister lifted amazed eyes and +saw her. He put out an involuntary hand of protection +toward the girl by his side.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Then Patterson Greeves stepped into the hall sternly, +his back to Athalie and came toward the door. He looked +and stopped short, his hands suddenly stretched out and +then drawn back to his eyes with a quick hysterical motion +as if he would brush a fantasm from his vision:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Alice!” came from his lips in a low broken tone of +agony, as if the torture and mistakes of the years were +summed up in the words.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>During that instant while he stood with his fingers +pressing his eyes Athalie began stealthily to step back and +across the hall to the wide arched doorway of the stately +old parlor that ran the depth of the house on the other side +of the hall from the library. Her eyes wide and round +were fixed on her father. An instant later there was only +left the swaying of the old silk cord tassel that held the +heavy maroon curtains of the doorway.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Then the girl on the doorstep came to vivid life and +stepped up quickly toward her father with eager light in +her face.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Father!” She said the word with a world of reverence +and stored up love, tender caressing sound, so genuine, +so wistful, it could not fail to reach the heart of any man +who was not utterly dead to his fatherhood. They were +clasping hands now, looking earnestly, eagerly into one +another’s eyes.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Anne Truesdale, behind the door, averting her loyal +gaze, the minister with anxious attitude upon the doorstep, +the alien daughter behind the heavy portière, one +eye applied to a loop-hole close to the doorframe, were +breathless witnesses of the moment. Then Patterson +Greeves drew his daughter within the library door with +the one word “Come,” and closed the door behind them. +The minister came to himself, murmuring that he would +return or telephone later, and took his departure. Anne +Truesdale closed the front door, and with an anxious glance +as she tiptoed by the library door, vanished up the stairs. +A soft stirring at the end of the back hall where Molly +listened, a cautiously closed latch, and all was still.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie in the big dim parlor held her breath, listening, +peered cautiously, and then drew back and gazed about +her with a leisurely air.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The room was wide and very long, with windows +heavily curtained in the old-fashioned stately way. The ceilings +high, the walls hung with dim old portraits in heavy +gilt frames. The floor was covered with heavy velvet carpet, +rich and thick in scrolls and roses, bright with care, though +the years had passed many times over it. The furniture +was rare and old and comfortable, and would have graced +many a finer mansion. One or two chairs done in fine +hand-made tapestry softly faded with the years, tables +and cabinets that had come down from the masters in +wood work. A rosewood piano of a make some thirty years +back, whose name was still dignified and honored. Athalie +stood and gazed about, half contemptuously. The chairs, +yes—but the carpet! How funny! She would have to +see that it was taken up at once and a hardwood floor—of +<span class='it'>course</span>—this would be a grand room for a dance. She +gave an experimental whirl on a cautious toe. Those curtains +were gloomy! She slid a sleek hand into a well +camouflaged silken pocket and brought forth chocolates +wherewith she had fortified herself. Her mouth comfortingly +filled with the creamy velvet of Dutch creams +she started on a tour of inspection, pausing first before +an ancestral portrait hanging above a curiously carved +sofa with hand-wrought tapestry upholstery. The picture +frame, tarnished with the years, seemed like an +open doorway to the past. From it looked forth a woman +plain of face, smooth of hair, with a carved high back +comb towering above her sleek head, and bearing a +bird on her finger. The eyes were so expressionless and +the face so sombre that it was impossible not to connect +it with a monotonous existence. A woman satisfied with +a pet bird! Athalie paused and took in the thought. A +lift of her well-rounded shoulders, a contemptuous smile, +that was her reaction to the woman of long ago. She +meant little to the girl modern in all her thoughts and feelings. +There was hardly a shadow of conception of that +sheltered, sweet, strong life that had given much to the +world in her passing. The girl passed to the portrait of +the man in military uniform hanging between the two long +front windows and her jaws paused in their slow rhythmic +manipulation of the chocolates to study him a moment. +This must be old General Silver. Her mother had told +her about him. Not much, only that he had been something—made +some great mark in the Civil War, or was it +the war before that? Athalie’s ideas of history were most +vague. She knew only that it was very long ago if one +might judge by the old-fashioned hair-cut, the high collar, +the strange war trappings, not in the least like a modern +soldier. He had bushy eyebrows, from beneath which his +piercing eyes looked over her head straight out to some +far seen enemy, keen, cutting, stern—the girl shuddered. +There had been that look in the eye of this new-found +father of hers, not at all fatherly, not “dadish” as she +expressed it to herself, purely official. He was like his +ancestor, she decided, as she stood and watched the picture. +Disappointing. Quite as Lilla had said he would be. Hard +as adamant. Flint in his eye. No yielding to coaxing. +No weakness anywhere that one could probe. Was the +bird lady his wife or daughter? She looked back and +studied the first portrait critically, deciding she must have +been his wife. No wonder she looked as if she had dragged +out a drab existence! And yet—she looked back to the +soldier’s face. There was a fascination about him somewhere. +What was it? The moulding of the firm lips? +The arch of the heavy brow? The curve of the wavy +hair, brushed fiercely forward from either side of the +head and focussing over the forehead in a high standing +brush? Well—somehow that made you long to conquer, +to draw a smile to those stern lips, a soft light to the eyes—it +must have been that something that made Lilla marry +her father. It couldn’t have all been money nor station +for Athalie had heard her mother tell many times of other +lovers, far famed and wealthy. There was something +about her father she had come to conquer, and she hardened +her own wilful lips in determination and passed on to the +next wall opposite the bird lady.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>A stately dame with soft white hair and a cap looked +forth from the next frame with a smile, more human than +the others, the girl felt; her stiff black silk seemed almost to +rustle from its frame with dignity and kindliness, and the +painted hands held primly a wide, gracious fan of rare +old lace. And by its side hung the portrait of her husband +apparently, a fine old gentleman with silvered hair, high +stock, and courtly manner, fitting mate for the dear old +lady, both portraits so lifelike that Athalie paused almost +abashed for an instant as if someone unexpectedly had +entered the room. It gave her a feeling of unaccustomed +awe, these strong, painted personalities all about her, past +history caught and imprisoned on the canvas for another +age to know intimately. They looked down at her with +kindly gracious eyes and she turned away awkwardly, uncomfortable, +and swept the room with another glance.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>On the back wall Uncle Standish Silver in more modern +business garb, and his sister Lavinia, in her Sunday best +silk, long-sleeved, high-necked, fastened with a great cameo +at the throat, and pretty crimped hair drawn back and +up from her ears in a knot on top of her shapely head, were +too modern to excite her curiosity, too old-fashioned to +hold her interest. Her eyes wandered to the frame opposite +the side window, half in shadow of the heavy curtain, a +picture of a young man, a mere boy he was. She walked +the length of the room eagerly to inspect it and stopped +in admiration. A boy a little older than herself, and +looking strangely like herself, only slim and tall, and with +eyes—yes with eyes like the soldier—and—yes—<span class='it'>eyes like +her father’s</span>! It must be her father when he was a boy!</p> + +<p class='pindent'>She stood a long time looking at it with mingled feelings, +admiring, jealous, determined, studying him as he +had been when almost her age. She felt if she knew him +then, she would be more able to understand and influence +him now. Finally, with a sigh of impatience she turned +and was about to slip out of the room when she suddenly +saw for the first time—how had it escaped her?—the portrait +of a young and beautiful woman, fresh, vivid, smiling, +from a great oval frame over the white marble mantel. +The eyes were wonderful, large, loving, innocent, deeply +intelligent and with a look of life about them that made +the girl uneasy. Those eyes seemed suddenly to have +been watching her all the time, to have followed her around +the room, to be searching her down to the depths of her +mean, selfish little soul. They were maddening eyes to a +girl like Athalie. They belied every purpose of her life, +every standard and ideal dear to her soul, every act of +which she was conscious. They were like an angel’s eyes +come down to earth for judgment.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Slowly, with gathering storm in her own dark eyes, +she approached, and the two eyes seemed to meet. Who +was this young girl dressed in misty white like a bride, +fashioned not so long ago either? And was that a veil +on her head? And orange blossoms—a spray? What +bride of recent years had a right there, in the centre of the +great room, the place of honor? It must be—! It <span class='it'>was</span> +her father’s first wife! Here in the house where she had +come to live! Watching her with searching angel-eyes +like that! Clean eyes that made her conscious of herself! +Assured eyes that claimed their right to be there!</p> + +<p class='pindent'>And who was it she resembled? Where had she seen +that face before, those true clear eyes?</p> + +<p class='pindent'>It suddenly flashed over her and she trembled from +head to foot with rage and ground her teeth in quick fury. +<span class='it'>That girl out on the doorstep!</span> Was that the girl of the +portrait? Or had her father married another wife, a +young girl like that? Had he <span class='it'>dared</span>, and not let them +know? Could he do that? Or—stay! There had been a +child. Lilla had always said that it died—but perhaps!</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Suddenly Athalie, in a burst of rage, took a long step +toward the portrait, a spring up, and spat forth a great +mouthful of well masticated sticky chocolate straight into +the lovely painted face, covering eyes and nose and smiling +lips, and dripping in ugly brown courses down cheeks and +chin. The girl surveyed her work of desecration with +satisfaction and a lifted chin and stuck out tongue as any +naughty child of three might have done. Then lifting her +hands in a hateful defiant gesture she darted from the room +and went lightly upstairs.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>In a moment more after rummaging in her suitcase, +she stole forth with a large framed photograph hidden +in the folds of her skirt, and slipped down to the parlor +again, going straight to the mantel and putting her picture +directly under the picture of the girl bride.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>It was a recent picture of Lilla taken in exceedingly +gauzy négligée, one of the expensive affairs of velvet and +chiffon and fur she loved to don, an intimate picture not +meant for public gaze, a bold-eyed, challenging, still beautiful +woman, with amazing hair falling over bare shoulders +and down upon the silk pillows of her chaise longue, on +which she was half reclining. It was framed in an +exquisite silver frame and intended for Athalie to show +her former husband that he might see how lovely she still +remained in spite of his indifference.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie stood back and surveyed with jealous eye the +picture smiling defiantly forth beneath the defaced one, +made another grimace of hate and flew up the stairs again +to her room, leaving her mother’s picture to hold its own +with the other portraits of the family.</p> + +<h2>VIII</h2> + +<p class='pindent'>Within the quiet library the father and daughter were +coming to their own. The alienation of the years like a +great wall of ice was slowly melting between them and they +were groping for phantom ends of heart ties broken +long ago.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He had seated his daughter in one chair and drawn +another opposite her. He was unnerved with the events +of the night and morning. He seemed to find it hard to +control his faculties and adjust himself to the present +circumstances. He hardly seemed to hear her voice or +the words she was speaking. It was his dead wife’s voice +that he heard. And there was no reproach in it, but it +rebuked him. It rebuked him so that he could +scarcely speak.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I have wanted to see you so long—father—I have +wanted to know you—!” she was saying.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He groaned as he dropped his head for an instant and +put his hands up to his eyes:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“You—are—<span class='it'>Alice</span>!” he said hoarsely.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>She smiled. That smile he had loved so well! Was +ever man tortured like this man? To have the dead come +back in such perfection, yet in another body—and with +another soul? “His daughter! His <span class='it'>daughter</span>!” he tried +to say to himself, yet it was as babbling. He could not +get its meaning. This was Alice come to rebuke him. Alice +as when he first knew her.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“They always have called me Silver,” she said wistfully. +“Grandmother couldn’t quite bear to call me Alice. +But—I shall be glad to have you call me what you like—”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He looked at her as in a dream. He could not think +what to say to her. He wanted to reach out and touch +that lock of hair that was drooping over her ear, the one +with the sunbeam netted in it, it was brushing against her +cheek, that cheek rounded with the same contour as his +lost Alice.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>What a fool he had been not to know Alice would +leave him her image in her child. How he had given it +away, this dear growing vision of the lost one! Given +it away without a thought, actually been glad to be rid +of the responsibility! And now he had lost it! Lost the +right! It was like giving light to a blind man, bread +to a dead man, to give her to him now. He could never +get in touch with her after these years. He had carved +out his life in a different line, a line where she did not +fit. He could never learn to speak her language, nor +teach her his. He would not have her learn his. He +shuddered at the thought. He could only look at her and +watch her as she talked, scarcely hearing anything she said.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Afterward some of her sentences came back, stored +up by his subconscious mind perhaps; details of her life, +where she had been at school, how she had occupied her +time, sweet incidents of the last years of those she loved. +He understood enough to be rebuked again, seeing how +he had failed in what might have been a pleasant duty +toward the beloved of his beloved.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“You are not—<span class='it'>angry</span>—with me for coming?” she +asked at last lifting her eyes anxiously to his silent +staring face.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>A swift contortion as of sudden pain darted over his +face. It seemed as if he might be trying to smile in unaccustomed +lines. It hurt him that she should ask such a +thing. He had not thought that would hurt! It hurt him +that he could not answer her with the right cordial words! +What were the right words? Why could he not get hold of +them? What a complex thing this life was anyway that +one could go on for years according to a certain plan and +standard, and then suddenly be confronted by unsuspected +emotions which upset the whole universe! He became +aware that she was still awaiting an answer, with sorrow +gathering in those dear blue eyes.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Angry? Oh, no! Why should I be angry?” he found +himself saying in a cold distant tone. It was as if he were +dead trying to call to the living, so strange and far away +his own voice seemed to him.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>A slow flush rose in her cheeks and her troubled eyes +searched his face for sign of welcome.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He struggled once more for words:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I am glad you have come.” The words had not +been formed in his intention. He found to his wonder that +they were nevertheless true.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I wish you had come before!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“But you were not here!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Of course!” he said foolishly. “Then I wish I had +come sooner. I wish I had never gone—from you!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, father, do you really? How many times I have +wished that!” The blue eyes were full of wistful eagerness +now. It had meant a great deal to her! Why had it? +Was that her mother looking at him through her eyes? +Was he going stark staring crazy? It was Alice’s look. +Alice was looking through those eyes of her daughter’s +as one might look through a window!</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He was not gazing at the girl now, only at Alice looking +through her eyes. Alice was trying to signal to him, to +make him understand something. What was that the lips +so like hers were saying?</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“When I was a little, little child grandmother used to +tell me all about you, how you first came to see mother—” +Ah! she called her “<span class='it'>Mother</span>”!—“How you looked, how +you used to sing, and play football and baseball—how +handsome you were—”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Ah! He had lost the thread for a moment and now +she was speaking of her first little baby thoughts of him, +how grandmother had taught her lisping lips to pray “Dod +bess favver!” Suddenly the thought of rosy baby fingers +about his neck—where had he seen rosy baby fingers? +Not Lilla’s baby! That had seemed too much a part of +Lilla to be pleasant to him. He had never made much or +seen much of Lilla’s baby. He shuddered at the thought +of that other girl upstairs. How should he tell this girl +about her?</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I used to wonder how it would be to have a father, +a <span class='it'>young</span> father, like other children, to carry me upstairs at +night—grandfather was dear, but you know he had that +accident—oh, didn’t you know about that? I was only two +years old when it happened. He was knocked down by a +heavy truck in trying to cross the city street on his way to +Presbytery. He was always lame after that and had to +be very careful about lifting. I used to so long to be lifted +up and carried in strong arms—!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The man wondered at the exquisite thrill that came to +him. After all these years of dreary living, his heart burnt +out to ashes, that the thought of a little child, <span class='it'>his</span> little +child being carried in his arms should so stir him! The +thought of a rosy cheek cuddling in his neck, moist lips +dropping furtive kisses, soft breath coming and going +against his cheek, golden curls spreading on his shoulder—she +would have had golden curls he knew by the curl of +the sunshine in the tendrils about her forehead. His baby! +<span class='it'>Alice’s</span> baby! Alice’s gift to him to comfort him through +the lonely years! And <span class='it'>he had let her go</span>! Was that what +the eyes had been trying to signal him? It was as if Alice +stood there behind the windows of her daughter’s eyes +and held out her baby to him with a smile; and suddenly +he understood and reached out the arms of his heart to +gather her to his life. Fool that he had been that he had +not known it sooner, before the mistakes of his life had +thickened about him and unfitted him for caring for her! +Suddenly he dropped his face into his hands again and +groaned.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Father! Dear father! What is it? Did I hurt +you somehow?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Too late! Too late!” he moaned. “What a fool +I have been!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>And there somehow he told her all that she needed +to know of the years that had separated them, broken +sentences, more reserves than words, tender silences. The +grafting process had begun in that which had been so +long severed.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>When Anne Truesdale, after long lingering and listening +to the low murmur of voices, finally brought herself +to tap on the door and announce lunch, their faces were +like the clear shining after rain.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Come in Anne!” His voice was more like himself +than it had been since his arrival. Anne entered bravely, +suppressing her own excitement.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I’m afraid, Anne, we’ve been upsetting all your +arrangements,” he began penitently as he used to do when +as a boy he took all the cookies in the cooky jar to feed a +hungry horde of boys.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Don’t speak of it, Master Pat. Yer not to apologize +to me. This is yer own house. I and the rest are but here +to do yer bidding. It is the pleasure of us all to have things +as you’ll be wanting them.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The woman held her hands tightly clasped at her waist +and made a low courtesy of respect. The master’s face +softened with affection.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Thank you, Trudie,” he said, using the old childhood +name. Then turning toward the girl he said:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Trudie, this is Alice’s child! My daughter—Silver! +<span class='it'>Silver—Alice!</span>”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He turned quickly away, his voice husky with feeling, +but wheeled as suddenly back again:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Could she have Aunt Lavinia’s room? I’d like to +have her there—!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Anne gave the girl one swift sifting glance and rendered +instant homage:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Indeed she could, Master Pat,” she said heartily, +satisfaction in her eyes, “and right pleased would Miss +Lavinia be to have such a successor. Shall I show the +way at once? Lunch is putting on the table.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Why, I’ll only be a moment,” said the girl beginning +to remove her gloves. “How beautiful to have Aunt +Lavinia’s room!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Anne Truesdale stepped back as Silver advanced to +the stairs and spoke in a guarded voice:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“And what about the young Miss upstairs? Must I +speak to her to come down?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The man looked as though she had struck him, and +the light of shining went suddenly out of his eyes:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, why! Yes—I suppose you’ll have to—tell her +to come down please!” he finished with an attempt at +ease, and bracing himself made one of his quick turns +and went and stood staring out of the long narrow window +that framed the front doorway.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Silver had paused, glancing back, and caught the low +words, felt the pain in his voice and the sudden dashing +of his spirit. It seemed that a cloud must have just passed +over the sun. “The young Miss upstairs!” That would +be the flapper-looking child she saw when she first entered. +Who was she? What right had she here in her father’s +house?</p> + +<p class='pindent'>But Anne Truesdale’s black silk was rustling close +behind and she mounted the stairs looking with eager eyes +around, nor saw the glitter of an evil black eye at the keyhole +as she passed down the upper hall.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“This was Miss Silver’s room,” said Anne swinging +wide the panelled mahogany door, and revealing quaint +rare furniture, rich faded carpet, a glimpse of a pineapple +carved fourposter, and the depths of a flowered wing-chair +by the window, with a little sewing table drawn up and +even a work basket with a bit of white linen tidily +folded atop.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Anne bustled about, setting straight a chair, patting +a pillow, and smoothing a dent out of the wing-chair +cushion where she had but just been kneeling. Then she +slipped away down the hall and tapped at a door nearer +the head of the stairs on the other side.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Silver took off her hat, ran her fingers through her +hair, washed her face and hands in the great blue and +white china bowl, dried them on a fine linen towel fragrant +with rose leaves and exquisitely wrought with a great S +at one end. Then she fluffed up her hair a bit more, gave +a glance into the mirror, and another lingering one about +the sweet old room and went quickly down stairs arriving +just in time to hear Anne’s low murmured:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“She says she’ll not come down. She’s not feeling +so good,” and to vision her father’s relief at the message.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>At the head of the stairs, Athalie with velvet tread had +crept to the railing to listen, and peer over from the +shadows of the upper hall as they went to the old stately +dining room, father and daughter, for their first meal +together. As they disappeared and the heavy door closed +silently behind them the girl learned far over the baluster +and made an ugly face ending in a hiss. Then as stealthily +as she had come she crept back to her room, closed the door, +locked it, rummaged among her luggage for a five pound +box of chocolates and a novel and established herself +amid pillows on the foot of the big old bed.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Anne Truesdale came up presently with a laden tray +of good things, but Athalie with her face smothered in +the pillow and her chocolates and book hid out of sight +declined any sustenance. Whereupon Anne, pausing +thoughtfully in the hall, finally scuttled down the dark +narrow back stairs and whisked the tray out of sight, +deciding that the master should not know of this hunger +strike yet.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>After lunch Silver and her father went back to the +library for a time, and their low voices in steady cheerful +conversation were not soothing to the other daughter’s +nerves. She tiptoed to the open window to see if she could +hear any words, but found she could not on account of a +family of sparrows who were nesting in the honeysuckle +below and seemed to have been retained for the purpose +of chattering.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>About half past two Silver and her father went out +together down the street. Athalie watched them from the +shelter of the window curtain frowning and noting the +amicable footing on which they seemed to be.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>They went to the station and reclaimed the girl’s suitcase. +On the way back they stopped at the old church +and walked slowly through the graveyard, the father pointing +out the names on the white stones, of those who would +be of interest to her among her unknown kin, the girl’s face +kindling with tender emotions as she read the records mossy +with age.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>While they were gone the village expressman arrived +with four immense trunks and three wooden boxes. +Athalie arose with alacrity from her couch of pain and +superintended their installment in the house.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“You can bring the two wardrobe trunks right in +here and unpack them at once,” she informed Anne Truesdale +haughtily. “I shall need more closet room. I think +I’ll take that room across the hall. You might put the +other two trunks and the boxes there till we get them +unpacked. I shall probably use that for my boudoir.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“That is the spare bedroom,” said Anne coldly but +firmly. “There’s a trunk room in the attic where your +trunks can be stored.” Athalie gave her a withering look, +but such looks had no effect on Anne. She went her way +and called the faithful servitor. He managed an extra +hand from the street, to help the expressman, and Athalie’s +mammoth trunks were carried slowly up the stairs. Nothing +so huge in the way of a trunk had ever entered that +house before, and Anne stood aghast as the first one hove +in sight and cast a quick and calculating eye toward the +attic stairs. But when she saw how heavy they all were +she changed her mind. They should go no farther until +they were unpacked. So the first was placed in the back +hall for further consideration, while the remaining three +proved to be so enormous that Anne demanded the key +and down in the wide old front hall Athalie’s frivolous +possessions were brought to light and carried up in the +abashed and indignant arms of the three old-fashioned +servants, who looked upon the trifles of lingerie with +averted gaze and felt that the daring evening frocks of +scarlet and silver and turquoise were little short of blasphemies. +They hastened them up to the oblivion of the +second floor before the master should return, and Anne +stood for a full minute gazing out of the hall window +across the sunny meadow and pondering whether she ought +not perhaps to have left them all down on the back porch +where the boxes had been remanded, until the return of +the master. Such doings! And a young girl who ought +to be in leading strings yet. Four trunks! What would +Miss Lavinia have said!</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie meanwhile was rummaging among her brilliant +raiment, pulling out this and that, deciding what she would +wear next after she had sufficiently cowed that hard-hearted +father of hers, and finally burrowed her way among silks +and organdies to her chocolates and her pillow again, +deciding not to put anything away until that objectionable +“Anne” person came to do her bidding. She felt she +must make it understood from the start that she would be +waited upon. Anne wasn’t much like her mother’s maid, +but such as she was she must be reduced to obedience. +Perhaps she could coax her father to let her have a French +maid all her own, a young girl about her own age. That +would be rather fun.</p> + +<h2>IX</h2> + +<p class='pindent'>While Athalie was thus engaged her father and Silver +were wandering through the quiet graveyard, talking of +the past. The man found himself telling his child about +his own boyhood, his aunt, his uncle, the old minister, the +long sweet services in the quaint old church. There was +no bitterness in his voice now as he spoke of the religion +of those who had brought him up. Something softening +had come upon him. He hardly understood himself.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>And then suddenly they had come upon the young +minister, stooping over a little new made grave, working +with some violet plants in full bloom, planting them in +the mellow soil until the little mound became a +lovely couch.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>They did not see him until they were almost upon +him, and then he rose quickly, his hands covered with +earth, his hat on the back of his head, his dark hair curling +in little moist waves about his white forehead, and a light +of welcome in his face:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I’m just fixing up this place a bit before the mother +comes,” he explained. “It looked so desolate and +bare, and this was her only child!” He stooped again +and pressed the earth firmly about the violets, with strong +capable fingers, arranging the plants as he talked till the +whole little mound was one mass of lovely bloom. Then +he rose, dusted the earth away from his hands and strolled +along with them.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Would you like a glimpse of the old church?” he +flashed a smile at Silver.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, I would!” she exclaimed eagerly, “grandmother +used to tell me stories of my father’s home, all she knew, +and she always told about the old church. Mother was +here—once—wasn’t she?” She looked up shyly at her +father who was walking absent mindedly, sadly beside the +young people, his hands clasped behind him as if his +thoughts were far in the past. He started as she asked +the question, and a pain seemed to stab into his eyes as of +one who is suddenly brought to view something long lost +and very dear:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Yes, yes! Your mother was here! On our wedding +trip! We went to church. We sat in the old pew. She +wore a little white hat with white flowers on it, and a thin +blue dress—!” It was as if he were musing over a beloved +picture. The minister and the girl exchanged swift understanding +glances.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“We will go in,” said the young man, “I have +the key.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He unlocked the old oaken door and the sunshine +poured behind them into the ancient hall, lighting up the +well-kept red ingrain carpet and meeting the sunshine that +poured down from a stained glass window above in curious +blended dancing colors like the pattern of some well-remembered +hymn sacred to many services held within those +holy courts.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Patterson Greeves walked beside the young Alice as +he had walked beside her mother up those stairs to the +assembly room above, so many years ago, and saw again +in imagination the eager friends of his youth leaning over +the grained oak railing to get the first glimpse of the +bride. Felt again the swell of pride in the girl he had +chosen, remembered the look of pleasure in the eyes of his +Uncle Standish as he met them at the head of the stairs +and escorted them down the aisle to the pew, and Alice’s +smile as she looked up at him. Ah! That he had thought +was to be the beginning of life! And only one short year +it lasted! Then all turned to bitterness and night! Fool +that he had been that he had thought anything so heavenly +could have lasted on this earth! That he had believed +there existed a God who cared for him and planned for +him! Ah! Well—! Bitterness!</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The blood rolled over his frame in a sickly, prickly, +smothering wave, and he mopped his brow with his handkerchief, +and wondered why he had let himself in for +this sort of thing after all these years? Why had he come +down to the old church so full of memories?</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Then he lifted his eyes to his girl who stood in the +open doorway of the assembly room now, framed in all +her girlish beauty against the background of the rich +coloring of the church, its jewelled windows casting rich +fantastic lights in a rainbow flood of beauty, glancing +away from the cluster of gilt organ pipes, glinting the +gold fringe of the pulpit Bible bookmark, focussing on the +blood red of the bright old carpet, and beating it into +a tessellated aisle of precious gems, mellowing the age worn +woodwork of the square high pews, and the carvings of +the pulpit and red plush pulpit chairs. There was something +in the look of his girl as she stood there against that +background with all the heritage of her grandfather’s and +grandmother’s religion behind her that took away the pain +again, and made him watch her breathlessly, and trace +out every likeness to the mother who was gone, made him +glad that she had come in spite of all the pain. Even glad +of the pain, if it brought this vision.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The minister was explaining about the organ. “Not +a wonderful organ, and a bit old, but one of the good +old makes, and with two or three beautiful stops.” Did +she play? She did. He was sure she did. Wouldn’t +she try the organ?</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Her mother could play! Oh, she could play!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Greeves had spoken without intending, but the other +two gave no sign that they had seen the emotion in his face.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Yes, I know,” the girl said quietly. “I studied with +her teacher for two years. He was an old man but he +was wonderful. After he died grandfather sent me away +to study for awhile.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>They lingered nearly an hour in the church, the girl +drawing sweet harmonies from the old yellow keys, the +minister lingering near, calling for this and that favorite, +while Greeves sat long in the old family pew and read without +seeing them the old familiar texts twined among the +fresco, “<span class='sc'>The Lord is in His holy temple. Let all the earth keep silence before Him</span>.” +Even now after +the years it sounded a certain note of awe in his soul, an +echo of the old days when God was real and life a rare +vista before him. There were the same old windows. He +used to count the medallions in the border when the sermon +was unusually long. There was the shepherd and the +lambs, and the first verse of the twenty-third psalm. There +was the storm one, purple clouds driven hard across an iron +sky, trees and shrubs bowing before it, and the inscription, +“<span class='sc'>For in the time of trouble He shall hide me in His pavillion. In the secret of His tabernacle shall He hide me.</span>”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>How firmly he used to believe in that when he was +a child! How truly he expected to take refuge in that +tabernacle if any storm overtook him! And how far he +was now from any refuge. What a farce it had been! +Beautiful while it lasted. But a farce! He drew himself +up with a shudder of disgust at it all and the tones of the +organ caught him as Silver’s fingers trailed over the +keys while she talked in low tones with the minister:</p> + + + <div class='poetry-container' style=''> + <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> +<div class='stanza-outer'> +<p class='line0'>“Nearer my God to Thee,</p> +<p class='line0'>  Nearer to Thee—”</p> +</div> +</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> + +<p class='pindent'>It had been Aunt Lavinia’s favorite, and it stung its +way into his soul in spite of his intention otherwise. He +could hear her singing it, twilights in the nursery when +she held him on her lap, his earliest remembrance, while +her eyes watched the evening sky grow red and gray and +deepen into starry blue, and the look about her mouth +told him even in his baby days that there was something +sad back somewhere in her life, something that she might +have given up, possibly for him.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Nearer my God to Thee, E’en though it be a cross—”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He could hear the gentle murmur of her timid voice +in that very pew as he had sat beside her many years. Ah! +The tears stung into his eyes unaccountably after all these +years. And he? His song had been:</p> + + + <div class='poetry-container' style=''> + <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> +<div class='stanza-outer'> +<p class='line0'>“Farther my God from Thee,</p> +<p class='line0'>  Farther from Thee—!”</p> +</div> +</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> + +<p class='pindent'>How Aunt Lavinia would have agonized in prayer +before her deep old wing-chair if she could have known! +He had seen her kneeling once thus, in her decorous high-necked +long-sleeved night dress with the little tatted ruffles +round her throat and wrists, her eyes closed, her gentle +face illuminated with a wistful joy that had awed him, +her lips murmuring softly words of pleading for him:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“O God, bless our little Pat. Make him grow up a +good man, loving God more than all else in life! Make +him sorry for his sins! Make him love righteousness +and hate wrong—”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The words were indelibly graven on his soul. He had +not thought of them in years but they were there just +as sharply discernible as when that day he stole into her +room to ask some trivial request for the next day’s pleasure, +and came upon her unaware, and stood breathless as in +the presence of the Most High, stealing away on tiptoe +not to disturb her, lying wakeful in his bed till far into +the night—! Ah! He turned sharply toward the two and +his voice jarred a discord as he spoke to break the spell +of solemnity.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Come home with us and take dinner! Bannard!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He had not intended to give that invitation. It had +been the farthest from his thoughts but a moment before, +his tongue had spoken without leave. But now that it +was given he found ease in the thought of a guest. Why +not? He liked the young man. A guest more or less +made little difference in the strange make up of his sudden +family. Perhaps it might even help out the embarrassing +situation. But he was not prepared for the quick lighting +of the young man’s face.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“That would be great!” he responded, “But—” and +his eyes sought the girl’s face for the flicker of a glance. +“Are you quite sure you want—guests this first evening?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, yes, come along!” said Greeves impatiently, half +sorry now he had asked him, yet determined not to go +back on his invitation. And Silver’s eyes gave him pleasant +impersonal welcome.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I’ll be there at five o’clock,” he said looking at his +watch, “I must meet the little mother out in the cemetery +first, and there’s an old man who is dying—I must drop +in there a few moments. I think I can make it by five. +Will that be too soon? There’s something I’ve been wanting +to talk over with you ever since I knew you were +coming. Will you have a few minutes to spare?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Make it by five and we’ll have tea in the garden. +Silver-Alice can you make tea?” His tone was a shy +attempt at playfulness but it brought a great light into +the girl’s eyes as she turned a sparkling face:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, surely!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Then make it five. I acquired a foreign habit of +drinking tea in the afternoon while I was over there. We’ll +have plenty of time for a talk then. We dine at seven.” +Then suddenly it occurred to him that he had another +daughter awaiting him and that the prospect was anything +but pleasant, so with an almost brusque manner +he took a hasty leave. Turning back at the very door +he said to the minister: “Oh, by the way. What has +become of that young person, Blink, I think you called +him? We had an engagement with him this morning, +hadn’t we? I had completely forgotten it. Do you know +where I could find him to make my apologies?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“He is washing my car at present,” laughed the +minister, “I shall see him before long and can carry your +message. You needn’t worry about Blink. He is very +wise for his years.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, suppose you tell him to drop in to dinner at +seven. Tell him we’ll talk over bait after dinner.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Terrence Bannard’s eyes registered appreciation.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Thank you,” said he, “I doubt if he’ll come. He’s +shy and proud among ladies, but he’ll appreciate the +invitation.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, that’s all right!” said the older man not in the +least realizing that he was getting a party of proportions +on his hands, but determined to discharge his obligations +to the young friend of the evening before. “Tell him to +come. I liked him.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>They were gone down the maple-shaded street, and +the minister stood for an instant in the doorway watching +the graceful girl as she walked beside her father, with a +look in his eyes which would have brought the spy glasses +of his congregation to play upon him if any had been there +to tell the tale.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Meanwhile, Athalie, never long content at a time, grew +restless under her story, and wriggling out from the finery +on the bed stole to the door and listened. All was quiet +belowstairs save a distant subdued kitchen sound somewhere +off toward the back. That impudent housekeeper +was away about her business. Now was Athalie’s time +to pry.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Removing her shoes and substituting blue satin mules +she stole cautiously down the hall, and tried her father’s +door, the front room on the same side of the hall with +her own, but separated by deep closets, one belonging to +her room, the other to his.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>She stood curiously staring about. It was a boy’s +room, with college photographs and pennants, football +groups, and Lacrosse sticks, being its chief adornings. +Only a Gladstone bag fitted with toilet articles, and a +locked suitcase gave evidence of the entrance of the +owner after the years of absence. Patterson Greeves had +been too weary and too perturbed to unpack or make any +changes since his arrival the night before. Athalie made +very sure that there was nothing among his belongings to +give any clue to his present character. She went stealthily +from bag to suitcase, even opened bureau drawers, but no +picture, or letter or anything was brought to light that +might be of possible interest, though she conducted her +search with the manner and wisdom of a young detective.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Coming out she closed the door again and stole across +the hall to the room that had been Aunt Lavinia’s.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Her eyes took in the details sharply, the old-fashioned +neatness and comfort, the quiet beauty of the room, and +the fact that the other girl had been taken there rather +than herself, the front room, the best room in the house, +with the big sunny windows to the street and at the side! +Jealousy filled her heart and her full petulant lips came +out in ugly lines. She walked quickly to the bed, +snatched Silver’s hat and gloves and flung them across +the room behind a chair. She took up her handbag and +went through it carefully, ruthlessly, tearing in half and +restoring to its silken pocket a small photograph of a +woman, the woman whose portrait was down stairs she +felt sure. Then she went over to the closet and flung wide +the door. After a moment’s survey of two or three +shrouded dresses of ancient fashion that hung there she +gathered them up and flung them on a chair. Then she +went back to her own room and selected an armful of +her gayest garments and returning began to hang them +on the hooks.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>All at once she became aware that someone was near, +and turning, her arms still half full of finery, she found +herself facing Silver.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Not in the least abashed she looked her up and down +contemptuously a full second before either spoke. Then +Athalie spoke:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well! Who are <span class='it'>you</span>?” she asked rudely.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I beg your pardon,” said Silver hesitating on the +threshold, “am I intruding? Have I made a mistake? +I was told this was my room—”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, it <span class='it'>isn’t</span>,” said Athalie roughly, “I’m going to +take it myself! I don’t like the room that old frump gave +me so I’m moving over here. You can have my room +when I get out if you’re going to stay over night. I’m +Athalie Greeves, and this is my father’s house, so <span class='it'>what +I say goes</span>!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Silver stood quite still for an instant, the smile frozen +on her lips, her eyes taking in the details of this impossible +sister, her ears trying to refuse the evidence of the sounds +they had heard. Something seemed to flicker and go +out in her face, a stricken look flitted over it, succeeded +by a sweet dignity and a lifting of her chin that in another +might have amounted to haughtiness. Then she +said quietly:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I see. Well, I will not trouble you.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>She walked over to the other side of the bed, +recovered her hat and gloves, took up her handbag, and +went out and down the stairs. Athalie did not stop to +notice where she went nor care. She went on arranging +her garments on the hooks, an ugly expression on her +heavy young brow.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Silver passed quietly down stairs and found an unobtrusive +resting place for hat and gloves on the console +in the depth of the wide hall, and then went on to the +now open door that gave to a wide bricked terrace with +the garden just below, reached by mossy brick steps set +in the sod, and edged by crocuses and daffodils. Beyond, +a flare of color and the perfume of hyacinths and tulips +lured the senses, and the subtle breath of lilies-of-the-valley +stole from out the deep green border of the terrace. Silver +stood for a moment looking out and trying to quiet the +excited beating of her heart from the encounter. Trying +to think what she ought to do. Wondering why her +father had said nothing about this strange inmate of the +house. Wondering why she had forgotten to ask him +who the girl was she had seen on the stairs when she +arrived. Thinking that in all likelihood the attitude of +this other girl would make even a visit to her father +impossible, and grieving at the thought.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Already Molly and Anne Truesdale were bustling +about, setting out a leaved table on the terrace, spreading +it with fine old embroidered linen and delicate cups of +other days, quaint heavy silver, plates of delectable cookies, +and squares of spicy gingerbread. The pleasant garden +and the bright show of flowers, the coming guest and the +air of happiness seemed not to belong to her. She felt +a sudden loneliness, as if she were intruding, abashed in +the presence of the things she could enjoy, appalled by the +fact of this other girl in the house. The story then had +been true that they had heard, that there had been a child +by her father’s second marriage. And she must have +lived instead of dying as rumor had brought to them. Her +father had never written a word about either birth or +death to her grandfather and grandmother. She wondered +again why? Her loyal heart refused to admit that her +father had been wrong. He was her father. Perhaps +there was some excuse. Perhaps there was some +explanation.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Sudden tears came at this juncture and threatened to +overflow. In a panic she withdrew into the shadows +of the hall lest the servants should see her, and almost +ran into her father’s arms as he came down toward the +door to see if his orders had been understood. He passed +a loving arm around her, gently, as if he were almost +afraid to touch her, almost shyly, she thought, and he +whispered very low:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I’m glad you’ve come—Silver-Alice!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Then Anne bustled in to ask some question and Silver +slipped back to the library for a moment searching for +her handkerchief, and so got control of herself. She came +back to walk down the terrace with her father and see +the places where he used to play as a child, and hear all +about the old fountain and the fairy tales he used to make +up about it. Walking thus she almost forgot the sister +upstairs who was so ungracious, almost forgot that sometime +she would have to speak about her if her father did +not speak first.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>There was a cloud on her father’s brow. She noticed +it first as they paused beside the sun-dial and she traced +the line of clear-cut shadow half between the four and five +of the quaint old figures. A sun-dial. How delightful! +It was like digging up antiquities. Her heart leaped to +the poetry of it. Then she looked up and saw the shadow +on the stern sad face above her. Something was troubling +him. What was it? Her presence here? Perhaps +he knew how distasteful it was to the girl upstairs, and +he did not know what to do. Perhaps it was best for her +not to stay at all—perhaps—!</p> + +<p class='pindent'>She put out a wistful hand and touched his sleeve:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Father!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Yes,” he said as if answering the thought of her +heart. “There is something I must tell you, child. Come +over to the old arbor and let us sit down. It +is—unpleasant.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Is it about—Athalie, father?” she asked as she +turned to follow him.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He stopped and looked at her astonished.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“How did you know? Had any one sent you word +she was coming?” with quick suspicion in his voice. Lilla +was quite capable of preparing such a setting for the +advent of her daughter. She seemed to have a sort of +demoniacal insight into what would be exquisite torture +for him. But Silver shook her head.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, no. But I saw her standing on the stairs behind +you when I arrived, and again up stairs just now. She +was moving her things into the room where I had laid +off my hat. She asked me who I was. I am almost sure +she does not like my coming. I think—father—<span class='it'>dear</span>, it +isn’t quite convenient for you to have me visit you just +now. I believe it would be better if I went back tonight +and perhaps came again later, in a few years when she is +older, or away on a visit or something. I would not like +to make you trouble. And it has been wonderful to see +you and to talk with you for even this short time. I +shall never feel quite alone in the world again now that +I know I have a father—<span class='it'>such</span> a father!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Stop!” His voice was choked with consternation, +anger, something else that sounded almost like humility! +Strange to see that expression sitting unaccustomedly +on Patterson Greeves’ haughty features.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Don’t say any more things like that Silver,” he said +brokenly, “I can’t bear them. It is bad enough to have +got in such a mess. Bad enough to have a daughter like +that! Bad enough to have her come here unannounced—she +came only a few minutes before you did—without +having you reproach me by flying up and leaving. You +<span class='it'>cannot</span> leave me now my child! You must stay by and help +me. <span class='it'>I need you!</span>”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, father, dear!” She put out a loving hand to +his arm again and he drew her within his embrace and +down the path toward the summer house.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>It was so that Athalie saw them as coming to the +window of her own room, her arms full of more finery, +she stood and gazed. Suddenly she dropped her armful, +and great jealous tears of rage welled into her large bold +eyes. From her handsome full lips a smothered sound +almost like a roar of some enraged young animal came +and was quickly suppressed. For a moment she watched +then she turned about and began to search wildly among +the confusion of clothing on bed and chairs, and to hastily +array herself in other attire.</p> + +<h2>X</h2> + +<p class='pindent'>About this time also, Blink, having received the invitation +by word of mouth from the minister, and not having +declared himself either way about accepting it, repaired +to the meadow lot opposite the Silver place and proceeded +to fill a large tin can with the choicest bait the town afforded +from a private and secret source underneath some old +rotting logs which had long furnished him with better +angles than any other boy was able to produce. He was +not yet sure whether he would go to the party, but he +would at least be ready with an offering should the fates, +when the time arrived, seem propitious.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Sooner than he had expected the can was filled, and +he lay back on the sweet smelling turf of the meadow and +gazed up at the blue of the sky, watching the tiny, lazy, +gauzy clouds that floated slowly, drifting like thistle down +whither it happened. It was easy to feel he was floating on +one of them drifting too. He often did that. It was his +way of reading poetry. He read a great deal of living +poetry at that stage of his existence.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Lying so with a clump of blue violets close to his hand, +and the tinkle of a cow bell not far away he could drift +and think of a great many things that an ordinary boy +in the everyday of life wouldn’t consider profitable for +one of his standing.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Out of the tale of his eye he saw the minister, presently, +going in the white gate between the hedges. He thought +of the little grave covered with violets, and the young +mother, a social outcast, with her new sorrow and bewilderment +in her face. No one had told him about it. It was +one of those things that Blink always knew. By and by +he would slip back to the cemetery and water those flowers. +It wouldn’t be necessary for the minister to bother with +that. The flowers would just grow all right and he could +let them off his mind. Blink knew how to relieve him +at odd little phases of the way. The minister was a good +scout. If Silas Pettigrew made any more of those pharisaical +remarks about the minister letting handsome young +women of the street go to some “mother in Israel” when +they were in trouble he would see that he found a way +to tell Silas where to get off. Silas wasn’t such a saint +anyway if he <span class='it'>was</span> an elder in the church! There was that +time when he bought Widow Emmet’s house for twenty-five +hundred dollars and then discovered the very next +day that the railroad would buy it at twelve thousand to +complete their new franchise, and he never let the widow +in on the deal! Old cotton mouth! Thinking he could +put one over on the town, and get the minister in Dutch +with the old tabbies, just because that poor girl—when +everybody knew young Sil Pettigrew—but <span class='it'>there</span>!</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He watched with satisfaction as the great door opened +with a glimpse of Anne in black silk and sheer collar. He +too might be thus received later in the evening if he so +chose. He reflected that “the girl” would be there. It +seemed a pleasing circumstance. She liked dogs. She +was all right.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Then suddenly his attention was attracted to a motion, +a shadow, what was it moving at an upper side window +of the house. Someone was climbing out to the pergola +below, a boy it looked like, heavily built with a shock of +football hair, knee trousers, and a strange belted kind +of jacket.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He sat up stealthily, leaning on one elbow, his young +face growing grave as he watched. Now who the deuce +could that be? Not a burglar, this time of afternoon, +sun still up? Still. That wasn’t any town figure, none +of the boys’ shoulders that shape, nor hair. It might be +a disguise but—how pink the face looked, like a Chinese +painting on a fan!</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Without taking his eyes from the object of his attention +he made ready to take a hasty departure. One hand +went out and secured the can of bait. His mind turned +over the available hiding places where he might store it +safely. How clumsy that guy was! Wasn’t much of a +climber. What in time was he doing up there in that +house anyway?</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Slowly the figure crept to the front of the pergola, +glanced cautiously around, peeked back and over the vines +as if watching some one, and then dropped heavily down +among the myrtle beds. A moment more and he saw it +rise, jamb a curious looking mushroom hat down over the +shock of hair, and come out the gate to the street, with +furtive glances back toward the house. The whole attitude +of the person showed secrecy and stealth. Once +outside the gate it turned toward the direction of the +stores and walked rapidly with a free stride despite its +stocky build.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Blink arose from his bed of green and lost no time +in following. The can of bait was deposited in the hollow +of a tree a rod from the street, and Blink was over the +fence and making good time in a trice. The stranger +was still in sight, had passed the first cross street and +was almost to the drug store. Blink fell into a lope and +made the garage diagonally across from the drug store +just as the figure paused, one foot on the step, one hand +on the latch and looked up and down the street. He had +a full view of her face. Good night! It was a <span class='it'>girl</span>! A +girl in knickers! They passed through the town sometimes, +girls like that, out on walks with men Sundays +and holidays, but there were none indigenous to the soil +of Silver Sands. It was <span class='it'>not done</span>! And look at her face! +Ye gods. Fell in the flour barrel! Painted like an image! +Good night! Did a girl think she was nice looking that way +he would like to know? And coming from the Silver +house! How was it possible? Blink did not use the word +“incongruous” in common parlance but it was the way he +felt. For one awful second he experienced deep and horrible +disappointment. “The girl.” She liked dogs but she +was like that! Then instantly the thing was impossible. +No, she hadn’t been a fat thing like that. She wasn’t the +same one. But who was she? Some interloper? How +did she get there without his knowing? Did the family +know? What did she have to do with them? Oughtn’t +something to be done about it?</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Since he had been able to walk alone Blink had been +a self-constituted member of the police force of Silver +Sands. He belonged to a clan who seldom said what they +meant, seldom talked but in parables, and kept their eyes +open. Many a wrong had been righted and a petty criminal +saved through their ministrations to become a worthy +citizen after due chastisement and discipline. They +reserved the right to use their own judgment, and on +occasion had been known to evade the law for their own +wise and worthy reasons, to save an underlying principle +which in their opinion would be lost if the law had its +course. The strangest part of it all was that the outcome +usually would seem to warrant the venture, and occasionally +the Chief of Police himself had been known to wink +at some open break on the part of the boy because he had +come to have utter faith in his working principle. Blink +had been known to search out the criminal and the facts +in some mystery more than once where others had failed +to get a clue, and the Chief always felt it well to keep in +with Blink. He took him with him now and again when +a raid on some lawbreaker was imminent. He had faith in +Blink’s intuition.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Blink himself had unerring faith in his own judgment. +It was to him like a clear magnifying glass that had been +given him at birth, which showed up Truth, and he couldn’t +see why other people didn’t exercise the same faculty. They +all must have the same thing if they only used it.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie seeing nothing else down the principal business +street more attractive than the drug store, opened the +door and went in. Blink leaned up against the show window +of the garage in front of a great pasteboard model +of a new kind of tire, looked idly up and down the street +and saw every move the strange girl made.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>She looked about the store with that curious appraising +glance she gave to everything the first time of seeing, and +then turned into one of the two telephone booths that +huddled by the corner window, close to the entrance door. +She took the front one facing the door and seemed to +be looking through the book for a number. When she +had taken down the receiver, Blink, without seeming to +have been looking that way, sauntered thoughtfully across +the street and entered the drug store most casually, taking +one full impersonal look at the girl’s face as he passed. +No, it was not <span class='it'>the</span> girl. He had been pretty sure before, +but he was glad to <span class='it'>know</span>.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>And this one was pretty enough, if she hadn’t been +so ghastly painted, and such funny eyebrows, almost as +if she wanted you to see she hadn’t them in the right +place. She had big brilliant white teeth, with those vivid +red lips like the clown in the circus, and she had a hard +bold look in her eyes. When he entered she was talking +and laughing boisterously. She could be heard all over +the store, if there had been anyone around to hear but +stupid Sam Hutchins the “soda” clerk.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Blink stalked over to the counter and threw down a +nickel for a package of life savers, and then as if he had +had no other purpose in entering he sauntered straight to +the other telephone booth and shut himself in to a careful +inspection of the W’s in the telephone directory. Not +that he wanted anyone with a name beginning with W. +It was just the first page he happened to open.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Clear and distinct came the voice from the booth ahead:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Now <span class='it'>Bobs</span>! You don’t mean you didn’t know my +voice! Well, I’ll say that’s a slam! I’m off you for life! +Oh! Really? Awwww—Bobbbbs! Now, that’s awfully +<span class='it'>darling</span> of you!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Blink was disgusted. Just one of these foolish Janes. +He had heard them talk before, only why did they want +to dress like a man, and why should one of them climb +out of a second story window in the Silver house? He +slammed the book shut and called up the captain of a +neighboring baseball team in the next township. He was +disgusted with himself for caring. He would listen no +more. It was likely some queer visitor. But one thing +was settled. He was not going to the Silver house that +night. Not with so many girls about. He couldn’t +stand girls!</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Is that you kid? Oh, isn’t he? Well, call him won’t +you? I’ll wait. This is Blink. Yes, Blink. <span class='it'>I</span> said it.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Boom!” came the girl’s voice into his waiting. “Well, +you’ve got to come and get me, Bobs. You said you would +if I sent for you. I’m having a horrid time. No, I haven’t +been down to meals. I didn’t have any success at all. If +it hadn’t been for your five pounder I’d have starved. Yes, +been on a hunger strike. But honestly, Bobs, it’s no +use. I simply can’t stick it out! I shall expire. Can’t you +come down this evening and take me a ride? No, he’d never +find it out. I’ve retired to my room with a sick headache, +see? He expects to hear nothing more from me till morning. +I’ve shocked him so hard he would be glad if he never +had to see me any more. I’ll make him sit up and take +notice yet. I promised Lilla I would and I mean to keep +my word. But Bobs, you’ve simply got to stand by or I +sha’n’t survive. Aw, come on, Bobs! I’ve found a way +to get in the window. We can stay as late as we like. +Nobody will ever find it out. I can shin up the pergola. +Oh, sure! I useta do it in gym. . . . Aw, <span class='it'>why</span> Bobs? . . . . I +think you’re <span class='it'>too mean</span>—! . . . . Well, then, how about +t’morra? . . . . You won’t stand me up? . . . . Well, if you +do all right for you! . . . . Where will I meet you? . . . . Why +I’m down at the drug store now. Couldn’t you come here? +. . . . Aw why? . . . . I don’t see. What do I care for these +country simps! Let ’em tell dad! I’ll have the fun first +won’t I? Leave it to me. I’ll get away with it. . . . What +is it you’re afraid of, you poor fish? Your reputation? +Well I like that! I didn’t know you had any! . . . . All right, +Bobs. I’ll come. Where do you say it is? Walk over +the bridge at the other end of the village? . . . Yes. . . . +Woods? On the right hand side? . . . . I didn’t get that. +Oh, you want me to walk in a little way from the road +out of sight? . . . . I see. Yes. Sure. All right, I’ll be +there, Bobs. Four o’clock sharp! But don’t you be late +or fail me. If you do I’ll never speak to you again, Bobs. +And I’ll tell Lilla how mean you were. No, I’ll tell her +you said she was getting <span class='it'>old</span>. That’ll get her goat! Then +she won’t speak to you either! . . . . All right, Bobs. I’ll +be there!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The receiver hung up with a click and the girl adjourned +to the soda water counter where she tried various compounds +and chatted affably with Sam Hutchins in a lofty +patronizing tone, telling him how to prepare the special +concoctions they used to get at school. She made out quite +a respectable lunch, what with the sponge cake they kept +in a glass showcase, and several chocolate ice cream sundaes. +Certainly enough to keep the breath of life in her +plump well cared for body until the next morning, and +then she took her leave and stalked on down the street +to the end of the village and crossed the bridge. Blink +went across to the garage, borrowed a motor cycle, and +took a breezy turn that way himself. He felt that this +young adventuress needed a chaperone. She came from +the house of a man he liked and loyalty to his friends, +even his very new friends, was one of Blink’s specialties. +He felt instinctively that Patterson Greeves would not like +a guest of his whoever she might be to be sailing through +the open country side alone in such a garb at the hour +when the workmen from the quarry half a mile below +the town would be coming home.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>So he chortled noisily by her on his wheezy steed and +sailed on down the road, arranging to have something +the matter with the cycle about the time she turned off +the road toward the woods, which made it necessary for +him to dismount and get down in the road to examine +into it.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie did not stay in the woods very long. Nature +unadorned never had much attraction for her. She entered +a narrow winding path, followed it to a log a few rods +within the thick grove, and sat down. But solitude never +appealed to Athalie, and after a moment’s reconnoitering +she came back to the road again and pursued a monotonous +way to the village.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Fat thing!” reflected Blink contemptuously jogging +along behind at a sickly pace for one of his ambitions. +Whenever he came too near he had to stop and examine +his engine again, but in course of time the two arrived +in the neighborhood of the drug store. Athalie went in, +purchased some salted almonds and went on to her father’s +house. Blink returned his motor cycle, and took a back way +to the meadow, arriving in plenty of time to watch the +lady mount the pergola and enter her window once more.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The incident finished, Blink sat for some minutes +turning it over in his mind, decided there was something +here that needed further investigation, and that he must +accept the invitation to the house and see what he might +see, although he could not bring himself to go through +the agony of a dinner with <span class='it'>girls</span>. To this end he picked +himself up from the ground, retrieved his can of bait and +took the shortest cut to his home, where he began a +thorough search for a clean shirt and its accompaniments.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie, having regained the stronghold of her room +was about to return to her task of moving her clothes to +the front room closet when suddenly the sound of a tinkling, +spoon against a thin china cup, and a ripple of soft laughter, +with an undertone of heavier gaiety sent her flying to +her window.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>For an instant her face took on the wild look of a +young savage as she gazed down at the pretty tea table +set out on the terrace below, the plate of thin bread and +butter, so tempting to her bonbon-jaded appetite, the orange +marmalade like drops of amber, the dainty dish of sugar +cookies, thin and attractive in clover leaf form. The +whiff of orange pekoe wafted up as Silver passed her +father his cup. Tea on the terrace and she not even told! +And there was that stunning-looking man again! Who +was he? Did that other girl think she would take possession +of him too as well as her father, and the house, and +the best room, and everything? Well, they would find +out! She was going down at once. She would show that +stuck up girl—!</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie turned from the window after a moment more +and began to fly around with catlike tread, dropping off +garments and sliding into others, searching wildly amid +the mass of finery for the thing she wanted. It was a coral +crêpe she finally chose, with a low cut bodice of silver cloth, +and startling touches of black velvet fastened with +jewelled buckles.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>She worked frantically over her complexion and +brushed out her permanent waves until they looked like +an electric sign. A platinum chain like a breath of air +about her plump white neck held a single jewel like a drop +of dew. In her ears were long jet earrings, giving her a +more brazen expression than ever. Her large pink arms +were guiltless of sleeves as she stood before the mirror, +turning this way and that on the high heels of her little +silver slippers into which her plump feet seemed to be +fairly forced. She was well pleased with herself. Probably +this wasn’t exactly the right kind of costume according to +social rules, for that early hour in the day, but at least +it was effective, and that was all she really cared. She +felt that she could afford to be a law unto herself.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>As she took her final glimpse and tiptoed toward the +door she seemed like some great gay bird with a large part +of its gaudy plumage plucked away. The floating coral +and silver were inadequate. “Naked” was what Anne +Truesdale expressed it to herself as she stood in frozen +horror behind the pantry door with a plate of fresh cookies +and watched the bright apparition move out of the door +to the terrace and stand a moment, “the very devil of a +smile on her lips” as Tom who was watching behind the +lilacs afterwards told his wife Molly.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Then Patterson Greeves with his cup half way to his +lips, and a look of comfort and relaxation on his brow, +suddenly looked up and stared. They all looked up and +saw her. Athalie came forward, her eyes fixed straight +upon the minister, her most coaxing spoiled-baby look +on her pink over-fed face.</p> + +<h2>XI</h2> + +<p class='pindent'>If a cavern had opened beneath his feet revealing dead +men’s bones Patterson Greeves could not have been more +shaken. He was white with consternation as he faced his +astounding daughter and trembled.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I hope you haven’t eaten everything up,” she said +airily, coming forward, “I’m simply dying of starvation. +Why don’t you introduce me, dad?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>She stood facing the young man, her bare pink +shoulders turned toward her step-sister utterly ignoring +her, her whole forward young personality flaunting itself +at Man in the concrete, this man in particular, the kind +of an appeal that a woman of her mother’s sort always +uses with a good man to disarm his disapproval. Greeves +recognized instantly Lilla’s arts and ways with himself, +and pain and rage shot through his heart. Why had he +not understood it then? Why had he let himself be fooled? +Would this young man be inveigled? He glanced +anxiously toward his guest and saw that the minister’s +eyes were meeting Silver’s in a quick look of understanding +as if the two had joined forces to protect him against the +humiliation his daughter was bringing upon him. Ah! +so might the memory of Silver’s mother have protected +him if he had not been too sore and bitter to let it! Fool! +Fool! Was he destined to go always from this time seeing +nothing but his folly, his everlasting folly that was bringing +with it retribution now? Athalie, his daughter, seemed +to him an embodiment of his own sins, come back after +years to torment him. Was this what hell meant? The +old-fashioned hell that nobody believed in any more?</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He was still standing, shaken and trembling, his cup +in his hand, but nobody was paying any attention to him. +He gradually realized this and was glad. They were trying +to help him. Silver had poured a cup of tea and held it +out to her sister, but Athalie ignored it, as if it were a +ghost she did not see, and reaching out poured another +for herself.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Isn’t there any lemon?” she asked looking the +table over. “Quinn bring some lemon. I never take +cream. Why don’t you pass the cakes, Mr. Man?” She +was addressing the minister with a pert freedom that made +Silver turn her eyes away in pain for her father’s embarrassment. +But the young man handed the plate of cookies +with a gentle impersonal dignity that seemed to take the +edge from the girl’s audacity and put her down in the class +of a child who knew no better than to take the centre +of publicity.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Gracious but you’re a grouch!” commented Athalie +gaily, looking straight into his eyes with her bold black +ones, “won’t you smile any more just because we haven’t +been introduced? You must excuse dad, he seems to be—”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>But just then her father stepped forward haughtily +and took the cup from the girl’s hand.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Athalie, you are not properly dressed to be out here. +Go upstairs and put on—a—a—<span class='it'>sweater</span> or something,” he +ended helplessly. “It is chilly—”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>But the girl burst forth in a ripple of hoydenish +laughter.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“A sweater with an evening dress! Oh, dad! You +certainly have been out of the world. Don’t worry about +me. I’m never cold. I’ll take another cake, Quinn.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Patterson Greeves’ face hardened into a set helpless +look. He was one whom men had always obeyed. This +embryo woman defied him openly and something somewhere +in his moral armor was so weak that he could not +meet her and conquer her. His lips shut sternly and his +voice was like icicles.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Then I will go farther and say that your dress is +unseemly and out of taste. What may have seemed to you +fitting among girls of your school is not in keeping with +our quiet homelife in this village. We do not wear evening +dress on ordinary days and you will oblige me by finishing +your tea in your room and then changing into something +less flimsy, that has sleeves and a—a—<span class='it'>neck</span> to it. Something +more—<span class='it'>adequate</span>. Let me introduce to you your—” he +hesitated “—my eldest daughter, Silver. She is older than +you are. She will be able to advise you about your wearing +apparel. I commend you to her friendship. She is—ah—your +sister, of course, you know.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Silver knew instantly that her father had touched the +wrong chord. Athalie’s impudent chin went up, her eyebrows, +what there was left of them went up, her full +cupid’s bow of an upper lip went up, and the sharp red +corners were drawn quickly and contemptuously down in +a smirk of hate. She did not look at Silver. She did not +acknowledge the introduction. Her big black eyes were +fixed on her father who had already turned his back having +manlike cast his burden thus upon womankind, and was +moving off toward the door, with a relieved note in +his voice.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Come Bannard, let’s go into the library and have +our talk. It grows chilly out here already. The spring +sun has not much warmth yet.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Thanks! I don’t need any advice from anyone about +my clothes! I generally wear what I like!” Athalie +hurled after him, her shoulders lifted irately. But he was +already inside the door and did not choose to hear further +defiance. He hurried toward the library door and drew +chairs in front of the fireplace where a fire was already +laid.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Sit here Bannard. I’m sorry and ashamed that you +should have seen my family under these trying circumstances. +What would you do with a girl like that? What +are young people coming to? Wasn’t I right in saying +she was impossible?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Out on the terrace Athalie whirled so that her back +was turned to Silver. So she stood facing the glow of +hyacinths and tulips, herself a flaring tulip of them all, +and drank her tea in leisurely manner, helped herself to +more cake, and another cup of tea, and utterly ignored the +presence of the other girl.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Silver, after watching her a moment stepped over +toward her.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Listen!” she said firmly, “you might as well cut +that out. It’s just as hard for me as it is for you. He’s +my father just as much as yours you know. <span class='it'>He was my +father first!</span> We’re sisters you know. We can’t help +that—!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie whirled on her with her eyes blazing.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“We’re not <span class='it'>sisters</span>!” she stamped her foot. “I’ll never +call you my sister. You’ve no business here! I know +all about <span class='it'>you</span>! My father <span class='it'>gave you away</span>, and you’re +<span class='it'>adopted</span>! You’re the same as dead! You have no right +to turn up and spoil my life! And you needn’t think you +can get his money away either. I’m his natural heir! +The court—”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Stop!” cried Silver suddenly white with anger. “As +if <span class='it'>money</span> had anything to do with it!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Shut up!” flashed Athalie, “I’ll say what I please. +And you needn’t pretend you’re so awfully saintly. I +know, your kind, you mealy mouthed hypocrite! You +can’t put one over on me. You’re in for the money as well +as anybody. Now I’ll give you one day to get out and +stay out, and if you don’t do it I’ll make <span class='it'>hell</span> for you, do +you understand? And I know how to do it when I try! +You’re not going to stick around here and spoil my plans! +And if you go and tell dad <span class='it'>you’ll be sorry</span>, that’s all I’ve +got to say!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>She jerked the little gold case out of a silken hiding +place among her draperies, lighted a cigarette insolently, +and flung the lighted match full into the face of the other +girl turning with another whirl, and marching down the +garden path with her cigarette atilt in her contemptuous +red lips, her gaudy draperies looking as out of place in the +quiet garden among the spring blossoms as a painted lily +in the woods.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Silver started back from the flaring match just in +time to escape the flame, gazed in consternation for an +instant after the plump arrogant figure of the other girl +and then throwing her head back she sent a clear ringing +laugh after her sister. Athalie paused in her majestic +progress to turn and stare angrily but Silver was gone into +the house.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Anne Truesdale slipped a ready arm about her as she +entered the shadow of the hall.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Yer not to mind, my sweetie, what a huzzy like that +says. She’ll not be here long, I’m thinking. The master +was telephoning the morn’ something about a school for +her. He’ll be soon sending her kiting, the little upstart.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, thank you, Mrs. Truesdale,” quivered Silver, +“I’m sorry you had to overhear this disgraceful conversation. +I thought I could get her to see things in a different +way, but I see it was very unwise to speak at all. She wasn’t +in the right mood—”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I doubt if she has any right moods, my dearie. She’s +a little sinner, that girl is. I’ve read about ’em in the +newspaper. Look at her now, puffing away like a man, +the impertinent chit. Disgracing her father and his respectable +house! The sooner she gets out of this respectable +town the better for all concerned. Her mother must be +one of the devil’s own to bring up a girl like that. Now +come upstairs my dearie and I’ll help you to dress and fix +yer hair. Yer trunks haven’t come yet, but that doesn’t +matter, the master doesn’t care for things to be formal—”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, but Mrs. Truesdale—”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Call me Anne, Miss Silver, I like it better. It’s what +yer father always calls me.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, Anne, I thank you, but I must get ready and go +away. Couldn’t you help me to go at once before my +father hears anything about it? It would only distress +him to know the reason. You could just tell him that I +felt that I must go for the present, and that perhaps some +day I will come back if he wants me—or he can come to +see me. I didn’t really intend staying when I came. I +have a position and I ought to begin my work right away +this week. Can you find out how soon there is a train +back to the city, and help me to get away quietly before +she comes in? I haven’t anything to pack. My suitcase +hasn’t been opened yet—”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Indeed no, my dearie!” said Anne firmly, “I’ll no +help ye to any such fool doings. Yer not to go away at all. +And my master would half kill me if he found me a party +to any such thing. Besides, can’t ye see he needs ye just +now? He’s beside hisself with grief and shame over yonder +fat young bully. Do ye think it’s a joke fer a man to +come back from a far land and find a thing like that is +child o’ his? You’ll stay right where ye are, my sweet +lady, and help that distracted father o’ yours back into +sanity. Besides, he’s got company, and he’s depending +on you to help entertain him this night. He told me to +open the old piano and light a fire in the drawing room. +He’s looking forward to hearing ye sing I’m thinking, and +yer not to disappoint him. He’s been a much disappointed +man already, and it’s not good fer him.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>She drew Silver up the stairs to the bedroom where +she had first taken her, and then gazed around with a growing +fury in her strong old face.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“The young <span class='it'>viper</span>!” she exclaimed under her breath, +“I’ll teach her to upset orders! The master’s orders too!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Before Silver could stop her she had seized an armful +of silks and lingerie from the bed where Athalie had +deposited them in her last trip, and rushed across the hall, +throwing them in a heap on the floor of the room she had +given Athalie, and was back for another.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“But you mustn’t!” cried Silver, “it will only make +her angrier. Let her have the room she wants. I don’t +care where I am put. If I stay at all, one room will do +as well as another.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Indeed no!” said Anne with fire in her eye, “do you +think I’m going to have the sacred room of the dear mistress +profaned by a little devil like her? The master would +in no wise allow her to enter here. He considers his aunt’s +room as a holy place, and it shows where he feels you +belong that he gave orders you should be put in here. Now +my dear, you just sit down while I empty this closet in +a trice, and then I’ll help you unpack your suitcase.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“But Anne, I’m sure Athalie will lay this to me. She +came in while I was up here and told me she wanted this +room and I could go into the other one.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Did she indeed! The limb of Satan! Well, I’ll see +that she understands you had nothing to do with it. I’m +still housekeeper here I hope, and the master is still master! +I’m not thinking he’ll take her impudence long.” She +seized another armful ruthlessly and marched them across +the hall, and in a brief space of time the closet was +again cleared.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“And look at the dear lady’s best black silk!” she +crooned suddenly discovering the garments that Athalie +had flung from their hooks to the floor, “it’s a desecration, +it certainly is! If Miss Lavinia had lived to see the day +that a huzzy like that that flaunts her nakedness before the +gentlemen and tries to drag her womanhood in the dust by +smoking the vile cigarettes like a man—!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Anne drew her breath in a sob of grief and humiliation.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I’m thinking she’s what they call in the newspapers a +‘flopper’! And I never thought when I read about their +like that we’d be having a real live flopper here in this +blessed house the day! Aw! It’s a sorry day in the old +house that’s always been that respectable!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>All the time she was babbling away in her intense voice +her fingers were flying, making the room right once more. +She straightened the cover of the little sewing table that +had been twisted awry, pulled the winged chair back to +its place, picked up a wisp of malines that had floated under +the bed, and even produced a duster and wiped down the +walls and shelves of the closet, shaking as it were the +very dust from the alien garments out of the sacred +chamber.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Silver stood at the front window looking out across +the field with troubled eyes, trying to think out the horrible +situation. She was convinced that she ought not to +have come, that she had followed her heart rather than +her good judgment, and probably a bit selfishly and determinedly +too, coming thus unannounced. She had wanted +to forestall any attempt on the part of her father to refuse +to see her. She had wanted him so, and now see!</p> + +<p class='pindent'>It took no very great stretch of imagination for her to +realize that this other girl was in greater need of a father +than she herself. Oh much greater! No matter how fatherless +or lonely she would be she would never be tempted +to go in a wrong path or do anything to disgrace the family. +She had been too well grounded in the things of righteousness +for that. She was established. But this other girl +was all too apparently self-willed, lawless, ungoverned, +like a wild little craft set sail upon a stormy sea without +a rudder, and liable to wreck not only herself but any +others that happened in her path.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Silver was accustomed to look on life in this way; to +think of what would be good for others as well as herself. +Her conscience had been well trained and was in good working +order. If she became convinced that she ought to go +no argument would keep her there. She had a duty toward +life to perform and her highest aim was to perform it +aright. She was as utterly different from the other +daughter as two human souls could well be. And how +could there ever be harmony in such an ill assorted +household?</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Into the midst of her thoughts came a summons from +her father. Would she come down to the library and talk +something over with himself and his guest as soon as she +was ready for dinner?</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Anne nodded approval. That settled it. She must +hurry and get ready. Had she another dress, or did she +wish just to wear her suit.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Silver, realizing that this was no time to parley when +her father had a guest, hastily shook out of her suitcase +a little silk crêpe dress that fell about her like the soft +shadows of evening, the color of twilight with gleams of +silver in the fastenings that reminded one of the afterglow +in the sunset sky, and set off her delicate complexion and the +gold of her hair, making her eyes starry. The little cloud +of worry on her brow only brought out the sweet thoughtfulness +and made her more like her mother, as she entered +the library a few minutes later. Her father could scarcely +take his eyes from her face. The wonder of it that Alice’s +face and form had come back in the person of her child! +The sorrow of it that he had not had the patience to wait +for this and enjoy the privilege of seeing it grow! The +selfishness of himself!</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Bannard had a work down among the foreigners of +Frogtown. He had a plan for a school for them that they +might learn English and be fitted to take out citizen’s +papers. He wanted a class in cooking and sewing for +the mothers, and meetings where they might learn +American ways, and how to care for their children and +make their homes sanitary and attractive. He wanted a +meeting place for them and some men and women with tact +and love of humanity to come down and help him. He +had been waiting for Professor Greeves to arrive feeling +that he would be the very one to help him get the educational +department started. There was a small room over +a grocery they could have for the present. It was lighted +with lamps and heated by a small box stove, but warm +weather was coming, they could even meet out of doors +somewhere down by the river.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Why not build a hall, a gymnasium or something of +the sort, with accommodation for all the different classes? +It oughtn’t to cost much. It wouldn’t have to be elaborate. +I’ll look after the financial part. I’d be glad to give something +to a work like that.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, father! Can you do that?” Silver’s eyes were +large with wonder and joy. Money had not been in over-abundance +in the little parsonage where the Jarvises lived. +Greeves looked sharply, keenly at his daughter. Was it +possible that there had been any lack in her life that money +might have supplied? He had sent presents now and then, +a hundred dollars or so. Why had it never occurred to +him to send more? His own child never having a real +part in his abundant worldly possessions. He began to +see more and more how wrong he had been to separate +himself from her. And yet, how sweet and unspoiled she +was! That other one, Athalie, had had an abundant income +stipulated by the court, and see what she had become! +Perhaps it had been better for Silver to have been brought +up without riches. That was the way her dear mother +had been reared. Ah! but it all shut him out of her life, +and he had had the right to be in it and had thrown it away! +Well! he would make up for it now all he could, but he +could not go back and gather from the years the precious +experiences that were gone forever.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>They talked until the silver-tongued gong sounded +through the house for dinner, and then, still quite absorbed +in their theme they went out to the dining room, forgetting +that there was aught in the world save beautiful plans for +the uplifting of others. And there, like an arrogant young +goddess stood Athalie, still in her silver and coral undress +as she had been in the garden, with only the addition of a +wide coral colored ribbon, the kind her girl friends called +a “headache band” drawn firmly over her forehead from +the little sketchy uplifted eyebrows, to the crown of her +head, the ends concealed in some mysterious way under +the shock of outlandish hair somewhere in the neighborhood +of where her ears ought to be. She had arrived unbidden +on the scene the moment the dinner gong sounded +and stood like an apparition, belligerent and sullen behind +a chair at the foot of the table, eyeing her father defiantly.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>There had been a pleased smile on his face as he entered, +his hand just touching Silver’s arm caressingly, but when +he saw her he stopped short and a stern angry look came +into his eyes. It was not a baffled look as Athalie had +counted upon. She felt that he had weakened during that +scene on the terrace, and she could dare anything, but +she saw a light in his eyes that boded no good for the +one who disobeyed his orders. His eyes gave one full +glance at the bare arms and neck, the low tight silver bodice +with its straps of tiny coral roses, the flimsy draperies, and +his lips set sternly, then he looked away and ignored her +presence. This was not the time for further demonstration. +He was a gentleman. He would deal with her later. +Yet all through the meal as he spoke to the others his voice +was harsh, restrained. They could see that he was very +angry. His attitude perhaps awed the girl, or else she +was very hungry, for she said not a word except to demand +second helpings of everything from the servants. For the +rest she maintained a sullen silence, her eyes on her plate, +only now and then raising them in a blank stare of amazement +at Bannard when he spoke of his church and his +work with earnest enthusiasm. She had never met any +one like him before. Also, she was angry that he ignored +her so utterly, giving his entire attention to Silver and +her father.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Everyone was glad when the meal was concluded. It +had been a particularly trying time to Silver. And as +they rose from the table the master of the house said +almost sternly:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Now we will go into the drawing room and have +some music.” His eyes dwelt on Silver lovingly, but +something in the tone told Athalie that she was excluded +from the company. As he stepped back to let the ladies +pass through the door Bannard caught a look of hate on +the face of Athalie that almost startled him in one so +young. Yet she did not slip away as he had supposed +she would after the snub she had received at the table. +She followed, slowly, almost stealthily toward the heavy +crimson curtains of the wide doorway, as if she had some +evil intent in her going.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Old Joe had built a fire in the fireplace and the flames +flickered and leaped rosily on the white marble mantel, +making shadows and fitful lights on the high ceiling as +they entered, and giving a look to the lifelike paintings +on the wall as if the owners were there awaiting them. +They stepped within and Greeves touched the switch and +flooded the room with electric light. Old Standish Silver +had been a progressive man and the house had been wired +as soon as electricity for lighting had come to Silver Sands. +It flared up garishly now and brought the sleeping portraits +to life, and instinctively all eyes were raised to the painting +over the mantel, where special lights had been placed to +show it to advantage.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Joe Quinn had been mending the fire and was just +backing away, Anne Truesdale was hovering uneasily +beside the curtain, wondering how she could extract the +fly from the ointment. The minister and Silver stood +within the doorway at one side, with Athalie still defiant +just behind them, when Patterson Greeves stepped within +and looked up. They all looked up, and breath was suspended. +For there rose the lovely face of Alice Jarvis +within her gilded frame, smeared and disfigured with +chocolate, covering the sweet lips, dripping down the +curve of cheek and chin grotesquely! And there below +with bold sensuous challenge, exulted the pictured eyes +of Lilla!</p> + +<h2>XII</h2> + +<p class='pindent'>There was a tense moment during which all eyes were +fastened with a horrible fascination on the desecrated picture. +Then Patterson Greeves’ army-officer voice rang out +like cut steel.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Who perpetrated that?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>His face had grown so white that it frightened Silver +to look at him. Athalie instinctively withdrew to the +shelter of the portière. He stood looking around on the +group, slowly from one face to another, beginning with old +Joe, who had halted midway to the door and was ashy +under his weather tanned skin, answering back his master’s +severe gaze with brave frightened eyes.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I dunno, sir. I ain’t seen it, sir, before, sir! It was +that dark when I come in to light the fire I didn’t look +up, sir!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The look passed on, steadily, unflinchingly, recognizing +the sympathy in the eyes of Bannard and Silver only +by a quiver of the set upper lip. He read the face of Anne +Truesdale like a book. It said in every quiver of indignant +lip and fiery eye that she was not to blame, though she +could tell him where to search for the culprit, and only +awaited a word from him to turn the tide of retribution +as it certainly ought to be turned. So his eyes came to +rest upon the daring, unsorry face of his younger daughter, +peering out eerily as if relishing the dènouement of +her escapade.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>No one dared turn and look at her. It would seem +that look of her father’s must have scorched her soul, +so full it was of outraged pride and love and sanctity. She +must have learned from it at once how deep her arrow had +gone in his soul, how much he had cared for that woman +in the golden frame. How impossible it had been for +him ever to care for her own mother like that. How really +futile in the light of that look her mission in the house +had become. Yet part spirit of his spirit, she dared him +back with a glance as steady, as haughty, even while she +trembled visibly at what she had invoked. It was as +though she had been the embodiment of all his mistakes +and sins come to mock him. So their eyes clashed, and +the man with one final thrust of judgment and condemnation +in the flash of his eye, turned back once more +to the profaned picture.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>It was then for the first time that he saw the portrait +beneath it, set out in the clear detail of perfect photography, +as beautiful yet sensuous, as dauntless, as abandoned in +every line of supple body and smiling face as the daughter +whose hand had placed her there.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>A low exclamation of horror burst from his lips and +he strode forward, white with anger and struck it full +in the faithless smiling face till the glass shivered in fine +fragments on the white of the marble below and the blood +ran down in drops from his hand.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He was beside himself with fury now, and snatching +the picture, frame and all, he dashed it to the hearth and +ground it beneath his heel.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Then out from behind the heavy curtain, with a wild +cry like a young tigress, darted Athalie and flung herself +upon him, beating him back with her hands and +screaming out:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Stop! Stop! You shall not! That is Lilla! That +is my mother! Ohhh!” and her cries were like the rending +heart of an infuriated creature who had never been +controlled.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>She pushed him off by main force and crouching low +with raining tears gathered up the fragments of the picture +and clasped them to her breast. Standing thus she +faced her father, a glare of hate in her black glittering eyes +and looked him down even as he had looked at her and +all who witnessed could not but see a resemblance to him +in her eyes and attitude.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“You murderer!” she hissed between her painted +lips. She ground her teeth audibly, and repeated, “you +murderer!” and then she suddenly reached out with one +hand and seized a large triangle of glass that still remained +on the edge of the marble shelf, and hurled it with all +her force straight into the face of the wonderful painting +above her, where it cut a deep jagged gash between the +lovely eyes, and fell in a thousand pieces below.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>As the glass slithered through the canvas Athalie gave +a scream like a lost soul and darted from the room, almost +knocking over the white and frightened Truesdale in her +flight, and tore up the stairway to her room, slamming +the door with a thunderous sound behind her and flinging +herself with wild weeping upon her bed.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Meantime Blink had arrived at the front door with +his offering of worms, and had rung several times before +Molly, who thought Joe and Anne were engaged in the +drawing room about the fire and lights, had slipped to the +door and let him in, bidding him wait in the front hall +until the housekeeper came to show him where to go. +Blink had stood by the door, his cap in his hand, and been +a most unwilling witness to the whole awful scene, with +its climax of flying coral gauzes, pink flesh and silver slippers +hurled up the distant staircase. He stood for an instant +uncertain what to do, and then with innate courtesy stepped +to the door of the darkened library where only a dying +fire flickered on the hearth, and slipped within. At least +in here, they would think he had not heard. He dropped +silently into one of the great leather chairs at the farther +end of the room, and tried to think what it all might mean +and what connection it had with the girl who had climbed +out the second story window and telephoned to a man in +the city.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>It was most silent in the big drawing room after +Athalie left. No one dared hardly to breathe. Patterson +Greeves stood white and dazed, gazing up at the injured +picture, with a stricken look upon his face, as if he had +suddenly seen a loved one put to death. For an instant +he looked in silence, then uncertainly he put up his hands +and rubbed them across his eyes as if he were not seeing +aright. It was as if the mutilated eyes of the picture were +accusing him. He turned a pleading pitiful look on the +group standing about him, and with a moan he suddenly +dropped into a chair, burying his face in his hands and +relapsing into an awful silence.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Dontee, dontee, master Pat, dearie!” crooned Anne +Truesdale, in her sorrow forgetting the presence of the +others and relapsing into his childhood’s vernacular, +“she’s only a naughty child! She didn’t mean—she +doesn’t know—!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>A great shudder passed over the man’s body, and +the woman gave a frightened look toward the other two +and retreated.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Bannard stepped forward.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Get that washed off the picture, can’t you?” he +whispered, “and sweep up the glass?” Anne Truesdale +vanished, glad to have something tangible to do.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Bannard stepped to his host’s side and put a firm +hand on his shoulder.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Come, Greeves, don’t lose your nerve. This isn’t +nearly as bad as it seems—!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The man groaned and shuddered again.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“It really isn’t you know. The woman was right. +She’s only a naughty ungoverned child. And besides, +you’ve another little girl to think about—” Greeves raised +his eyes to the sorrowful girl in the doorway and Silver +crept to her father’s side and knelt, slipping her arm within +his and putting her face close to his.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I’m afraid this is all my fault, father,” she said with +a catch in her voice, “I ought not to have come. I knew +as soon as I saw her. It hurt her you know to have me +here. She wanted your love for herself—”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The man stirred uneasily and lifted his head drawing +his arm around her.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Don’t say that again!” he commanded sternly, “she +is worse than nothing to me! Never can be or could be!—”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Anne had come in with soft cloths and a basin of +warm water followed by Joe with a step ladder, brush, +and dust pan. They tiptoed in silently, awesomely, as if +to a place where a murder had been committed. They +did their work swiftly and well and withdrew. The +master of the house remained with his head down resting +on one hand, the other arm still encircling his daughter. +Bannard stood a little to one side thoughtfully until the +servants were gone. Then he raised his eyes to the picture.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Come, Greeves,” he said with relief in his voice, “it’s +not so bad at all. I’m sure it can be fixed. They mend +those things so you’d never know. And it isn’t as if the +artist were dead. You can have him touch it up himself—”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Patterson Greeves arose shakingly, his arm still about +his daughter, who slipped up from his knees and stood +beside him. The father gazed agonizedly up at the picture, +tears blurring into his eyes.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“The little devil!” he murmured, “that’s what she +is! A little hell cat!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, I wouldn’t talk that way, friend!” Bannard’s +hearty voice was like a breeze from a wind-swept meadow +driving the sick miasms away from the room. “Nothing +gained by that. Try to go back of her and see what has +made her like this.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Do you mean to say I’m to blame for her devilishness?” +Greeves demanded excitedly.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I wasn’t saying who was to blame, my friend, I was +merely suggesting that you might look farther into the +matter before you feel in utter despair. The mother is +responsible for a lot, I should say, but your problem is +not who is to blame, but what can you do about it.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I shall send her away at once, either to some school +where she will be made to behave, or else back, back to the +mother who made her what she is.” The man’s tone was +hard, unforgiving, uncompromising. “I shall <span class='it'>make</span> her +take her back. Money will do it!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Then you <span class='it'>would</span> be to blame!” flashed Bannard. +“What! would you give her no opportunity <span class='it'>ever</span>? Would +you force her to remain what she is?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I would get her out of my sight forever.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Isn’t that just where you made your mistake before? +Pardon me. I realize that I know nothing about the matter. +It is only a suggestion.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“You do think I’m responsible for having a child +like that!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, isn’t a father responsible? Isn’t that what +God meant he should be?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Silver had moved away from her father and was standing +by the mantel looking up at the pictured eyes of her +mother, her eyes full of wistfulness. Her father began a +restless striding up and down the room, answering nothing, +now and then tossing back his head in an impatient way +he had. At last he wheeled and faced Bannard.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I cannot think there is any fairness in that,” he said +harshly and took another turn across the room. Then +coming back with more of a grip upon himself he said:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“But I have made scene enough of this day. I had +hoped you were to be my friend. If you stand this test +you will indeed be a friend. I must thrash this thing out +by myself. Let us forget it if you can and endeavor to +wrest a little friendship at least from the evening. We +came in here to have some music and I have exhibited a +family skeleton instead. Let us close the door on it for +the night and do something else. My daughter, after all +this are you equal to giving us a little music?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The girl forced a smile and came quickly toward the +piano. “Anything that will please you father,” she said +with an attempt at brightness.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Bannard opened the old grand piano and drew out +the creaking stool with the hair-cloth cushion, and as +Silver seated herself it suddenly came over her that here she +was in the old ancestral home, sitting at the piano where +others who were gone had often sat bringing sweet strains +from the old instrument. It thrilled her to realize that +she was really here at last in the home she had so long +dreamed about. She touched the keys tenderly, and there +came forth a sound as if she had caressed them. Her father +settled down in the old tapestry chair and shaded his eyes +with his hand, watching her graceful outline of head and +neck and shoulders, and the sweeping curve of the young +body as it swayed gently to the music.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Over in the library Barry Lincoln nestled back in the +big chair and closed his eyes to let the music sweep over +his soul, while the fire burned low and fell in bright sparkles +among the ashes, and a long young angle worm +from the can in Barry’s lap struggled up and out and over +draping itself in an arabesque, perhaps in some modern +attempt to interpret the music.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Upstairs in the bed in a tumbled heap of coral and +silver Athalie clasped the bits of her mother’s broken +picture to what heart she had and wept and wailed, “Oh, +Lilla! Lilla! Lilla! Why did you send me here?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>But not even Anne Truesdale, white and anxious down +in the back hall listening for developments, and trembling +with weariness, heard.</p> + +<h2>XIII</h2> + +<p class='pindent'>Diagonally across the street, about a furlong from +the Silver place, next to the meadow, whose white picket +fence bordered, and whose old brindle cow thrived on, +the meadow, stood a small brick cottage, somewhat Anne-Hathaway +style in architecture, low and thatchy, with +moss on the roof and sunk deep in the thick green turf. +It had a swing gate with an iron weight on a chain to make +it latch, and a lilac bush leaning so low that the visitor +had to duck his head to enter.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The household was entirely feminine, and they looked +on the cow and the old yellow cats as their protectors. +They were called the “Vandemeeter girls” though the +mother and the ancient grandmother were still of the company. +There were three elderly spinsters, Maria, Cordelia, +and Henrietta. There was also a niece, daughter of a +fourth sister long since dead, who rejoiced in the name +of Pristina Appleby. Pristina was “thirty-five if she was +a day” according to Ellen Follinsbee the Silver Sands +dressmaker who always wore pins in her mouth and kept +the other corner open to pass on pleasant conversation.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Pristina was tall and thin and spent much time studying +the fashion magazines and sending for all the articles +in the advertising pages. She sang in the choir and her +voice was still good though a trifle shrill on the high notes. +She held her book with elbows stiffened and always opened +her mouth round and wide, and she took care to have +plenty of fresh changes of garments, and always got a +new hat four times a year. She felt it was due to her +position as first soprano, although it was not a paying +proposition, and frequently required much sacrifice of +necessities to compass it. They were a progressive family +and took several family magazines besides a church paper +and the Silver Sands <span class='it'>Bulletin</span>. Pristina belonged to a +literary club entitled “The Honey Gatherers” and sipped +knowledge early and late. She had recently been appointed +to write a paper on some modern author and had chosen +Patterson Greeves, “Our noted townsman” as the first +sentence stated, and waded through quartos of technical +works, and thoroughly mastered the terms of bacteriologists +in order to do her subject justice. Maria and +Henrietta had not approved. They thought the choice of +a divorced man, especially as he was reported to be returning +to his native town to live, not a delicate thing for a +young girl to do. Cordelia maintained that it was a part +of the strange times they were living in, and added: “Look +at the flappers!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, I never supposed we’d have a flapper in our +family,” said grandma sadly. “The Vandemeeters were +always respectable. Poor, but always respectable.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Now, ma, who says Pristina ain’t respectable?” +bristled mother appearing in the kitchen door with a +bread pan in one hand and a lump of lard in the other. +“Pristina has her life to live, ain’t she? I guess she’s got +to think of that.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>They all looked at Pristina standing tall and straight, +her abundant brown locks piled high in a coil on the crown +of her head, a little too much of her slim white ears showing, +a faint natural flush in the hollows under her high +cheek bones, the neck of her brown voile guarding well the +hollow of her throat, and her bony arms encased in full +length bell sleeves. She wore sensible high buttoned shoes +(with the addition of tan spats in winter) and her dresses +were never higher than eight inches from the ground, even +at the highest water mark of short dresses. Yet she +seemed to them most modern. They could not have been +more worried if she had taken to chewing gum. She was +the kind of woman you would pick out for a good stepmother +of eight. Conscientious and willing to take what +was left.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“That’s all right, Pristina. Write your paper the +way you want. You have to follow your own bent,” +said mother.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>And Pristina wrote her paper.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Grandma and the three girls talked it over once when +mother was setting cakes for breakfast.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“You don’t suppose Pristina is getting notions about +Pat Greeves, do you?” suggested Cordelia.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Gracious!” said grandma dropping her knitting, +“what put that into your head?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, nothing—only, she’s so anxious to write that +paper and all. And it wouldn’t be strange. She’s young +you know.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, I should hope she’d have sense enough not to +think of marrying a divorced man. That wouldn’t be +respectable! And she a church singer!” This from Maria.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Patterson Greeves isn’t so young any more you’ll +kindly remember!” said Henrietta pursing her lips. +Patterson Greeves had been a senior in high school with +Henrietta. They might all remember that he gave her a +bouquet of jacqueminot roses when she graduated.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“That’s nothing!” said Cordelia, “old men always +pick out young girls.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“He’s not <span class='it'>old</span>!” said Henrietta.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“You just said he wasn’t <span class='it'>young</span>. Oh, well! I only +suggested it. I shouldn’t like to see Pristina get notions. +That man has lived <span class='it'>abroad</span>. And he’s lived in <span class='it'>New York</span>. +He’s no fit mate for a girl like Pristina. But then, I don’t +suppose he’d look at her. Only as I say, I hope she doesn’t +get notions.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“We’ve always been respectable,” said grandma. “It’s +likely Pristina knows that. She’s rather respectable herself. +You remember how she wouldn’t let that young drug +clerk hold her hand. Blood will tell generally. I +wouldn’t worry.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>But after the paper had been read before “The Honey +Gatherers,” Mrs. Arden Philips, the wife of the postmaster, +dropped in with some cross stitch embroidery +doilies for her new hardwood table and casually asked:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Henrietta never kept up her acquaintance with Pat +Greeves did she?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Mrs. Arden Philips used to be Ruby Hathaway of +the same class in high school.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Henrietta?” said Cordelia looking sharply at that +sister.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Henrietta!” exclaimed Maria contemptuously as if +Henrietta had somehow endeavored to outclass her sisters.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Mercy, no!” said Henrietta. “Why Ruby he’s a +married man, very much married. What makes you ask +that? It’s years since I’ve heard a word of him.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, I told Julia Ellen so. After Pristina read that +paper there was a great to do about it, how she got to +know so much about him, and then Julia Ellen and Jane +Harris both remembered that he was sweet on Henrietta +once, and we thought maybe—although Arden said he +never noticed any foreign letters coming. Well, Henrietta, +how did Pristina come to find out so much about Pat +Greeves anyhow? All that about his books on bugs, and +how he came to be called to those colleges and everything. +I’m sure Miss Lavinia Silver never told anything. She +was so close mouthed. She always just smiled and said +something pleasant and you came away knowing no more +than when you went.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“She got it out of some sort of an encyclopedia,” said +grandma indignantly, “it began with Bi, I forget the name +of it. She took it out of the library. It had a lot of other +great men in it. She read it all aloud to us. And then +she sent for his book to the city and studied that a lot. +It wasn’t very interesting. I tried to read it one day but +it had a lot of words I never saw before. Pristina said +they were names of animals and bugs that lived before +the foundation of the world or long about. I’m sure I +don’t know. But Pristina is real smart. She believes in +patronizing home talent. I thought it was a bright idea +myself, telling people about him before he came back to +live here.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Why yes, of course!” said Mrs. Arden Philips, looking +sharply at grandma, “that’s what <span class='it'>I</span> said; but then people +will talk you know. But if I was Pristina I wouldn’t mind +in the least. It’ll all blow over, and Pristina’s reputation +can stand a little whisper now and then I guess. But say, +wouldn’t it be interesting, thinking back to how he used +to like Henrietta, if he should make up to Pristina sometime? +Quite romantic, I say. Aunt and niece, you know. +It might be.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Nonsense! He’s too old!” said Henrietta sharply.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Besides he’s divorced!” said Maria with pursed lips.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Yes, of course,” said the visitor, “but they do say +in the city, that doesn’t count so much, and besides, he’s +lived in the city so long he probably doesn’t know the +difference. It isn’t as if he’d lived here always and kept +Silver Sand’s standards. I heard the new school superintendent +say in the Home and School the other day it was +standards counted. And he can’t help his standards +can he?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“We’ve always been respectable!” said grandma +sharply, “and I hope we’ll always stay so. Pristina has +standards if Standish Silver’s nephew <span class='it'>has</span> lost his! Ruby +did your grandmother send you that recipe for strawberry +preserve? My daughter was wishing she could get it.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Yes, I have it. I’ll copy it off for you. Well, I must +be going. We’re having the minister to supper tonight. +I only just dropped in to satisfy myself that I had told +the truth to Julia Ellen. I never like to sleep on a lie. I was +real sure Pristina hadn’t been corresponding with him.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>There was silence in the room while Maria went to the +door with the visitor, and until she had reached the picket +gate and the iron weight had swung back and clicked +against the chain as it always did when the gate shut +after any one. Then grandma’s pursed lips relaxed and +her needles began to click.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Cat!” said Henrietta, “she always was jealous about +those roses!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>That happened three months before Patterson Greeves +came home. Nothing more was said in the Vandemeeter +home about the matter, but whenever Anne Truesdale +opened and aired the front rooms, or stuck pillows out of +the windows in the sunshine for a few minutes, “the +girls” took occasion to glance over and wonder. And +when at last the signs of a more thorough housecleaning +than had gone on in years became unmistakable, grandma +had her padded rocking chair moved to the side window +where she could watch the house all day long. She declared +the light was poor at the front window where she had +been accustomed to sit. When the news of the imminent +arrival went forth officially, Pristina went up to town and +bought her new spring hat. It would not do to look shabby +on the first Sunday of the noted man’s arrival. After +that the Vandemeeters were in a state of continual twitter, +making errands to the front window on the slightest possible +excuse, and always glancing out across.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I declare it looks good to see the house alive again,” +said mother. “I can almost think I see Miss Lavinia’s +white hair at the window over there. My! If she were +only back!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“It’s a good thing she’s not!” said grandma sepulchrally, +“it couldn’t mean anything else but suffering to +have her nephew come home divorced!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, I don’t know about that, mother,” said her +white haired daughter, “there’s some women you’re better +divorced from. You know even the Bible says that!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, why did he <span class='it'>marry</span> her then? That’s what +I’d like to know. A boy brought up the way he was, <span class='it'>why +did he marry her</span>? Oh, you can’t tell me. He just went +and got into the nasty ways of the world, the flesh and +devil! That’s what’s the matter. If he’d just come to +his home town and taken a good sweet girl he’d known +all his life—”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“There now, mother, for mercy’s sake don’t say that. +Somebody might think you meant one of ours!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The curtains were in requisition at every side window +of the Vandemeeter house the night that Patterson Greeves +came home. Henrietta at her chamber window high in +the peak of the roof noted the gray hair crisply short +beneath his soft hat, and the slight stoop in his shoulders, +and said to herself quite softly:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Goodness! do I look as old as that?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>They watched the house quite carefully until the lights +from the side windows announced the dinner hour in the +house across the way and then they retired to their own +belated meal. While they were eating it Henrietta on +a visit to the kitchen for hot water for grandma’s tea +spied the red glow in the sky and called them all to the +back kitchen window, else they would have seen their +neighbor vault the fence and sprint down the meadow +to the fire.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>But the next morning they were up betimes and keeping +tab from every window spryly.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>When the big racing car drew up in front of the house +and Athalie got out they were fairly paralyzed +with astonishment.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Perhaps he isn’t divorced after all,” said mother in +a mollified voice.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Yes, he is,” insisted Pristina, “I read it to you +from the Biographical Encyclopedia. A book like that, +that’s in all libraries, wouldn’t make a mistake.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, maybe he’s married again,” said Cordelia. +“That’s what they do nowadays!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I don’t believe he <span class='it'>would</span>! Not with his bringing +up!” said mother. “He <span class='it'>couldn’t</span>!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, the law allows it!” snapped Maria. “That’s +why I’m glad I can vote. There ought to be laws!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, who is she then?” asked grandma petulantly.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“She’s young,” announced Pristina who had the best +eyes for far seeing, “and her cheeks are awfully red.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“She’s <span class='it'>painted</span>!” said Maria, “that’s the kind! Maybe +she’s—!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Maria!” said her mother, and made eyes toward +Pristina, “you shouldn’t say such things.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I didn’t say anything, mother, I was going to say +maybe she is just some friend of his wife’s. Or maybe +she is a secretary. Writers have secretaries. I’ve read +about them.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I should think it would be more proper to have a +man!” said grandma. “There’s no excuse for a man +having a girl always around him. If he does a thing like +that I should think it was plain nobody ought to recognize +him.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, she’s taking an awful while saying good-bye +to the man, that brought her!” declared Cordelia. “Perhaps +he’s her father. He looks old enough to be. He’s +held her hand all this time. Why, she’s only a child. +Look, she’s got short hair!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“That’s bobbed!” said Pristina in disdain, “I should +think you’d know that Aunt Cordelia. Plenty of the +young girls in Silver Sands have had their hair bobbed.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, yes, bobbed. Oh, yes, young girls! But not +like that!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“There goes the minister in!” announced Henrietta +a little later. “I wonder why? He’s not the kind that +toadies to rich people.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“He would think he owed respect to the relative of +so prominent a former member of his church,” suggested +mother. “The Silver family really gave the money to +build that church you know. Gave the lot anyway.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I hope the minister is not going to countenance +divorce,” said grandma with a troubled look out the window +over her spectacles.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“He preached against it two weeks ago,” contributed +Pristina, her hands clasped on the window fastening, her +chin on her hands.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Perhaps he doesn’t know about Patterson Greeves,” +said Maria. “Somebody ought to have told him.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“He’s coming out again. Perhaps Mr. Greeves +wouldn’t see him. There’s his car. That rowdy Lincoln +boy driving it again. What the minister sees in him!” +announced Cordelia. “See, he’s hurrying. I wonder +what’s the matter.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Perhaps he’s just found out,” suggested grandma.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Speculation ran rife, and the watchers hovered not +far from the windows, doing extra dusting in the front +sitting room to keep near. It was almost like the time +when the circus rented the meadow for a week and they +could watch the rhinoceros and giraffe go to bed at night. +None of them really admitted they were watching until +suddenly the minister’s car drew up in front of the +Silver house.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“He’s back!” said Pristina glued to the window, “and +there’s another woman—no, girl with him!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“It looks as if there might be going to be a wedding!” +declared Maria primly, “I declare some men are the +biggest fools! You’d think after two experiences he’d +be satisfied. Oh, Men! Men! Men! I’ve no patience +with them.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, I certainly don’t think much of a woman that +comes to his house to get married!” said Pristina. “I +wonder our minister has anything to do with it.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“A woman that will marry a divorced man, too,” +sighed grandma.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, I wonder which one it is, the first one or this +one?” questioned Pristina. “They both look awfully +young. Perhaps they don’t know a thing about him.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“And neither do you,” said mother, “Pristina why +don’t you take that cake over that you baked for the sewing +circle tomorrow? You’ve plenty of time to make +another before the circle, and anyhow now you’ve found +out Stella Squires has made a chocolate cake it would be +better for you to make some other kind, say marble cake +or a cocoanut. If they’re going to have a wedding it would +be nice in the neighbors to help out a little.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I think I’ll find out whether there is a wedding or +not first,” said Pristina with a toss of her head. “We’ll +eat the chocolate cake ourselves. I’m going to cut a big +piece now.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Pristina was like that sometimes. And when she was +the aunts looked at her in a hopeless sort of way and kept +still. They called it the “Appleby” in her.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>All day long they kept their watch upon the house. +When Silver and her father came out to walk after lunch, +they huddled anxiously at the window, and commented. +This was the bride probably, and the other one—who was +the other one? Bridesmaid or secretary? It was hard to +decide.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>While they were still discussing it Athalie’s trunks +arrived, and brought them all to the window again.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Upon my word, there must be more coming!” said +Pristina from her window. “Look at the trunks. They +surely wouldn’t have more than one apiece.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“A bride might have two,” suggested mother.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Yes. You know New York! They’re very extravagant +livers!” declared Maria who had had the advantage of +a week in New York when she was sixteen and had been +going on the strength of it ever since and claiming obeisance +from her family therefrom.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, even so. Count them. One, two, three, four! +Are those others boxes? They must have books in them. +They probably belong to Mr. Greeves. But the girl that +came first had her baggage with her. She wouldn’t be +wanting a trunk.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, there’s one apiece and one over besides the +boxes,” said Henrietta. “A man wouldn’t want a trunk +would he? Not if he carried his books in boxes. What +would a man find to put in a trunk?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“His clothes, of course,” said Cordelia sharply.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“But a man has so few clothes. Just a suit or two. +It seems as if he could hardly fill a trunk with those. Perhaps +he brought home relics from the war. If he did I +certainly do hope we get a chance to see them.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Perhaps, sometime, if they’re away Mrs. Truesdale +will ask you in quietly to see them,” suggested mother.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Those trunks are enormous! See, grandma, they +had to get Hank Lawson to help carry that one in. I +think that’s scandalous!” This from Maria.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The shades of night settled down and left them still +wondering.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“There’s a light in Miss Lavinia’s room. It’s strange +they’d let anybody be put in there!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Maybe he took that room himself!” suggested +grandma.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Arden Philips and his wife ran in on their way to a +committee meeting at the town hall, something about a +supper to be given in the fire house as soon as the first +strawberries were ripe. They settled into the window +seats and asked everything that had happened all day. +Arden contributed the fact that a great pile of mail had +come for Mr. Greeves and among them three from New +York City.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Whatever became of that child of Pat Greeves?” +asked Mrs. Philips loosening her silk wrap and throwing +it back to adjust a long string of green beads slung around +her scrawny neck and looping down below her waist! +“Did it live? Boy, wasn’t it?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>She was a tiny wiry little woman with bright beads of +eyes and the quick restless motions of a bird. She perched +on the edge of her chair and looked quickly from one to +another as she talked.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Girl,” said grandma pursing her lips and looking +over her spectacles. “It was a girl. He gave it to its +mother’s parents. I heard they didn’t have much to do +with one another.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, I should think not!” said Ruby Philips. “A +man that would marry again!” Mrs. Philips didn’t believe +in second marriages.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“And then get divorced!” reminded grandma.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well poor thing. I hope she hasn’t suffered from +her father’s sins,” said Maria righteously.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Now Maria,” reproved mother, “you’re going a +little fur. You don’t really <span class='it'>know</span> that her father sinned.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, he got divorced, didn’t he?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Yes, but Maria, he might uv <span class='it'>had</span> to—you know it +isn’t <span class='it'>always</span> the <span class='it'>men’s</span> fault.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“It’s pretty generally the men’s fault, I guess,” declared +Maria, tossing her chin. “I thank goodness I never got +tied up to one.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, Maria, I don’t think you’re very polite to +Arden,” said Mrs. Arden, rising with a flame in each cheek.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, Arden’s Arden, of course. Besides he’s my +third cousin. And present company is always excepted +you know,” laughed Maria sharply.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Mrs. Arden drew her cape around her briskly and +stepped toward the door. There was still a stiffness in +her voice. She pursed her thin lips as if her mouth shut +with a drawstring like a bag of marbles.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, I must say I don’t like insinuations, even when +it’s a joke,” she said coldly, “come Arden, we’ll be late +to that meeting. You’d think if there <span class='it'>was</span> a wedding he’d +invite someone from the town, just for old time’s sake, +wouldn’t you? Of course the minister; but he’s a comparative +stranger, and he <span class='it'>has</span> to have him. Well, I suppose +we’ll know sometime. Good night.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Arden, drab and homely, with blue eyes and light eyelashes +followed her obediently out with an air of getting +in the way of his own feet. She tripped along down the +walk like a sparrow and Arden loped behind, a long limbed, +disproportionate man who never seemed to be quite inhabiting +all the room in his garments. They crossed the +street and passed the Silver house, looking closely and walking +slowly. The street lights twinkled over their heads +as they passed.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>By and by a shadow passed along the street, with something +low trailing after, but there was no sound of footsteps +though grandma had her window open a trifle. A moment +later the front door of the Silver house opened letting out +a stream of light and shut again before they could see +who had gone in. There seemed to be a dog about. He +howled once from the neighborhood of the Silver gate.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>At ten o’clock some one came out, perhaps two. It +almost seemed like a group. Was one the minister? Was +that a dog or only a mote in the eyes that had strained so +long through the darkness?</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Lights appeared upstairs over the way, went out, and +the Silver house remained a white shape against the velvet +blue of the night sky. Little stars blinked distantly and +the tree-toads sang uninterruptedly in the meadow and +down by the brook. Grandma was snoring gently in her +downstairs bedroom, and Pristina lay in her narrow bed +up in the roof bedroom and wondered why life had seemed +to pass her by.</p> + +<h2>XIV</h2> + +<p class='pindent'>To the right of the Silver house and almost directly +across from Vandemeeter’s stood a neat gray house with +wide verandas and white trimmings. There were tall +trees of great age in front of the place that gave it a retired +look, and the fine lace curtains at the front windows were +always immaculate. The fence was gray with square +fat gate posts, and a row of blue and yellow and white +crocuses were picketed on either side of the gravel path. +It was one of those places that you always feel you can +depend on, and the people who lived in it were like +unto it.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Joshua Truman was the Silver Sands banker, and the +fact that the whole neighborhood called him Josh and +that he had a hearty handshake and a smile for everybody +in no wise detracted from his dignity. He seems to have +been an honest banker, and beloved by everybody. He +had shaggy overhanging gray eyebrows, but they hid a +twinkle in the mild blue eyes. Mrs. Truman was plain +with sweet eyes, wore her hair in close satin ripples above +her ears as she had done ever since she was married, and +kept always a neat brown silk with touches of velvet +trimmings for her best dress. She was president of the +missionary society in the Presbyterian church. There +were two children, David, a lump of activity aged ten, +and Mary, a tall lank girl of fifteen with a heavy braid +of yellow hair down her back and big, dreamy eyes.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I think Patterson Greeves has come back,” Mrs. +Truman announced at the breakfast table next morning. +“I didn’t notice any one coming in, but Hetty says she +saw some trunks arrive. I thought perhaps you’d want +to run in and see if there is anything we can do—”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, why, yes of course,” said the banker heartily. +“I forgot to speak about it, those men coming in and +staying so long after supper last night. He did come. I +met the minister and he told me. It seems he has brought +his two daughters home. One is about Mary’s age. I +think she had better arrange to run in today sometime, +and show a little attention, perhaps offer to take the girl +to school or something just to make her feel at home.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, mother!” said Mary in dismay, “I can’t call +on a strange girl! <span class='it'>You</span> go.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Is his—? Did he—? Well—what about his wife, +Joshua, isn’t he—<span class='it'>married</span> now?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, well—no—I believe not. That is—” he glanced +at the children, “I should think that was all the more reason +why we should show some courtesy to those motherless +girls.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Yes, of course,” said his wife with a look of relief +that the matter was settled. “Certainly, Mary, you run +in after school this afternoon and call. You can take +some of our strawberries and a bunch of daffodils and +just run in without any formality.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, mother!” said Mary aghast, “I promised +Roberta I’d play duets with her this afternoon.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, take Roberta along,” said her mother crisply. +“The Moffats were always good friends of the Silvers.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Yes, certainly,” spoke up the father. “Get some of +the other girls to go too. It will be a pleasant thing for +a stranger to feel that she is welcomed into a community +the first day. Talk to some of the girls and make it +<span class='it'>go</span>, Mary.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“All right,” said Mary reluctantly, with a speculative +glance over at the Silver house which she could see from +her place at the table. “I might ask her to go to Christian +Endeavor,” she suggested, “we girls are on the Lookout +committee. We all promised to try and get some new +members. What’s her name?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, that I didn’t discover. I guess it’s up to you +to find out, daughter,” said her father with a pat on her +shoulder as he got up and went to kiss his wife good-bye +for the morning.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Do I have to dress up mother?” asked Mary, still +thinking of her prospective call, “I don’t mind going if I +can wear my school dress but I hate to waste the time +dolling up. Besides, I always feel so embarrassed in my +best clothes.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I don’t think it will be necessary to dress up,” said +her mother with a quick inspection of the neat blue gingham +with its sheer white ruffles and the crisp dark blue hair +ribbon that tied the heavy braid of hair, “little girls don’t +have to bother about their clothes. She’ll probably like +you far better if you go just as you come from school. +Be sure your hands are clean of course.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Mary brightened and went off to school quite full of +her plans for the afternoon. Her grade was in the old +brick schoolhouse up beyond the Truman house. She +did not pass the Silver place. She would have been surprised +to know that the girl she was proposing to call +upon was still in bed asleep. Mary had been up for two +hours, had practised an hour and a half, and helped her +mother get the breakfast on the table because Hetty, the +maid of all work, had a lame foot and was being saved. +Mary glanced back at the Silver place and felt a warm +spot around her heart. It was going to be nice to have a +girl friend living there. They could go to school together. +Living next door she naturally would be “best friend.” +The Silver place would be an awfully nice house to have +a Christian Endeavor social in sometime. Would Mr. +Greeves be willing? She would suggest this to the girls. +This would make them eager to go and see her. She +could hear the first bell ringing as she hurried along. She +started to run to have more time to talk before school +began. Her eyes were bright with the new idea when +she entered the schoolyard. She decided that she would +ask the new girl over to make fudge that evening if all +went well.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>On the other side of the Silver mansion, the side where +Athalie’s room faced, there was an old brown wooden +house. It hadn’t been painted in years and was not likely +to be painted in years to come if it lasted so long. It +was built in the days of scroll work and rejoiced in a +cupola, lofty and square, with alternate lights of red and +blue and yellow glass bordering a large clear one, two +on each side. The front gable was ornamented with a +fret work of ancient wood, faded brown like the rest, +which had somehow, either in a storm or in consequence of +the mending of the roof, become detached from the ridgepole +on one side and fallen out of plumb. The result was +rakish, like a woman with her bonnet on cock-eyed. The +windows of the house were gothic and latticed, and the +doors all sagged. The Weldons lived there and they sagged +too. Uri Weldon usually did his sagging down in the +lobby of the one hotel, sunk deep in a worn-out leather +chair with his heels above his head on another, and a +large sagging cigar in one corner of his mouth. He +kept up the hallucination that he was thus conducting business, +which consisted in trying to get someone to patent +some of his inventions, but his business sagged too and +never came to anything. Lizette Weldon, his wife, was +spare and wore a false front over little black gimlet eyes. +When she walked she was the shape of rain in a driving +storm but nothing ever escaped her vision whichever way +she was going. The property was theirs for life, entailed +so that they could not sell it, and would pass to a nephew +now residing in China when they no longer had need for +it. They had been there for years, however, and seemed +likely to outlast the nephew in China. Gentle Aunt Lavinia +had had her trials with Lizette, and young Patterson +Greeves owed many a sound thrashing to her sharp eyes +and ready tongue.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>A long stretch of ill-kept wire grass constituted the +lawn in front of the Weldons, ending abruptly in a row +of sombre pine trees behind which the house retired +as if aware of its hopeless shabbiness. Had it not been for +these pines the whole place would have been a sorry contrast +to the well-kept Silver estate. There was something +shielding, almost dignifying in the pines.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>But the side windows had no row of pines and looked +across a clear space straight to the side of the Silver house; +and Athalie’s window presented a liberal view for any +interested eye.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>On the first afternoon of her arrival Lizette was +mounting the stairs for her daily nap when she happened +to notice a curious figure climbing from the window. +Having been occupied in the kitchen during the morning +she was as yet unaware of the arrivals, although she had +seen a light in the front room the night before, but +the shades were drawn almost immediately and the light +remained but about five minutes so she thought nothing +of it. But this was startling.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Lizette hastened to get an old field glass which she kept +handy and wherewith she had often settled uncertainties +in the neighborhood in time past, and brought it to bear +upon the object of her interest. She applied the binoculars +to her eyes and screwed them hastily into focus, then +withdrew them and stared with her naked eyes.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, my!” she said aloud, “ain’t that awful!” She +lifted the glass once more and gazed. “Pants!” she +ejaculated wildly, a kind of triumph in her tone, “well, +now I guess they’re coming down a peg! What would +the old Silvers say to that! A girl in pants! Of course +the papers advertise them but the Silvers never were +that kind. And look at her hair! My soul! How does +she get it to stay out so. Ain’t it redickilus! Where’s +she going? My good fathers! if she isn’t going to climb +down! Well, that beats everything! Who is she?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Lizette hurried down the stairs and rushed to the front +window to get a closer view between the pines, then noting +the stranger’s general direction toward the stores she +hastened to the telephone; calling up a friend who lived +farther down the street.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“That you Miz Hoskins? Well go to your front window +and see that girl in pants coming down the street. +She just climbed down off the old Silver pergola out the +side bedroom window. Hurry and I’ll hold the phone.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Mrs. Hoskins had a hot loaf of bread in a pan, holding +it with a wet towel in one hand when she took down the +receiver, but she hurried to the window, hot pan and all. +There succeeded a pause during the passing of Athalie, +then steps and a voice.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“My, ain’t that scandalous? And all those young boys +down around town! Not that I mind the pants so much +if everybody wore ’em. It’s sensible you know. But +the way she walks and all. And her face. Did you see +how it was made up? Why those girls that sang at the +minstrel show weren’t half so coarse looking. And the +air of her. You said she came from Silvers? Well I +guess there’s going to be some doings there from all I +hear. My husband took the express over with the trunks. +Say, you oughta have seen those trunks. Seven of ’em +I think there was, and not one could be lifted without four +men. Just to think such goings on in this respectable +town!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“But who is she?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Dear knows! John says she might be most anybody. +You know Patterson Greeves got a divorce! Maybe she’s +his typewriter. That’s the way they do things nowadays. +Isn’t it the limit? Say, I smell my other loaf of bread +burning. Excuse me a minute please. You hold the wire. +I want to ask you about what happened at the sewing +circle the other day. I’ll be back in a minute.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Mrs. Weldon took no nap that afternoon. She was +too excited. She felt it her bounden duty to keep a watch +and find out if there were “doings” going on in the old +house, and if she ought to do something about it. What +else should a good neighbor do when the respectable dwelling +of an old neighbor was threatened with modernism?</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The hedge was too high for her to see the terrace +and the scene in the garden, but later when Athalie, having +cried out her brief wrath, attired herself in a gay little +suit of pajamas with lace ruffles around the ankles, and +having turned on all the lights proceeded to practise a +little æsthetic dancing in front of the window, Lizette +was there, glass and all, with her fat husband behind her +staring over his spectacles and laughing coarsely in her +ear. This was a good joke, a good joke to tell down at +the hotel. Those religious Silvers come to this!</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The next morning when she slipped through the garden +and under the back fence across lots to the garden of +Aunt Katie Barnes’s neat little place on the side street +where the minister boarded, to get a cup of sour milk, she +paused with her apron over her head and said:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, have you heard what’s happened over at the +Silver place? They do say Pat Greeves has come back +and brought a <span class='it'>woman</span> along! I’ve been told she was his +secretary or typewriter or something. But she’s very ordinary. +I saw her go by myself and I was shocked! Painted +and powdered, her hair all kind of wild, the queerest +hat, and <span class='it'>pants</span>, mind you, in the middle of the afternoon! +I feel so sorry for poor Miss Lavinia. She set such store +by that boy! But it never pays to bring up other people’s +children does it? I can mind how she used to sit out there +in the garden by the hour playing with him and reading +to him. A waste of time I say—but aren’t you surprised +that he should do this? It seems as if he might have +managed to stay respectable even if he is divorced.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Aunt Katie looked up from the potatoes she was +frying for the minister’s breakfast and smiled.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, didn’t you know who that was? It’s one of his +daughters. He has two, but this must have been the +younger one. She’s only a child, fourteen I think Mr. +Bannard said, and she’s been off at boarding school—I +suppose you must expect some craziness from little girls +nowadays, there is so much more freedom in the world, +especially in New York. But isn’t it nice Mr. Greeves +has two daughters to keep him from being lonely? The +other one is a little older. Her name is Silver. Mr. Bannard +says she is the perfect picture of her mother’s portrait +hanging over the mantel in the drawing room. Do you +remember it, that lovely Sargent painting?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“No,” said Lizette coldly eyeing her adversary, “I +don’t go over there. That Mrs. Truesdale doesn’t show herself +very friendly. I think she takes on airs. <span class='it'>Daughters</span>, +you think then? Are you <span class='it'>quite sure</span>? Well, I suppose the +minister ought to know.” She surrendered the bit of +scandal reluctantly, “it certainly is strange we never heard +of them before. Daughters! Well, he better keep a little +control of them then. One of ’em was having carryings +on in her room last night, I’ll tell you! Dancing, that’s +what she was doing, in her underwear! A great big girl +like a full grown woman, and all her shades up! I never did +approve of those pajamas for men even. They don’t seem, +well, Christian you know. And when a woman takes up +with such outlandish fashions it’s time she was stopped by +law, I say.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well,” said Aunt Katie soothingly, “we don’t all +have the same taste in dress you know—”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Dress!” sniffed Mrs. Weldon, “<span class='it'>un</span>dress I should +say! However, as you say, it takes all kinds to make a +world. Well, I just ran over to see if you could let me +have a cup of sour milk. Mine got too sour and I had +to throw it out.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Aunt Katie always seemed to have whatever was +needed by anyone and the sour milk was immediately +forthcoming.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>There being no further excuse for lingering, the +neighbor lingered anyway.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“The minister told you! So he’s been over to the +Silver place <span class='it'>already</span>! He’s a good deal younger than Pat +Greeves. He must be nearer the age of one of the daughters. +Curious he should run after a man like that right +off the first day! I thought he set up not to be a tody-er, +but I suppose they’re all alike. They know which side +their bread is buttered when a rich man comes along.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, they met at the fire down at Frogtown night +before last. Mr. Greeves ran across the meadow as soon +as he heard the alarm and got into the thick of it helping +with the best of them. Then they came home +together and took to each other right away. It’s going +to be grand having the old Silver place open again, young +people in it, and folks going back and forth visiting.” +Aunt Katie’s face was innocent as a lamb. The guest +eyed her keenly, but could detect no hidden sign that Aunt +Katie realized she had ignored the criticism.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, well, if you take it that way of course. Some +might feel they wanted to wait and be sure all was as it +should be. But time will tell. Well, I must run home and +stir up my batter cakes. Uri’ll be waiting.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Down at the fire house where Uri spent much of his +time when he was not sitting in the lobby of the hotel, +it was discussed that morning. There was always a knot +of conversation around the fire house door even in early +morning. It was just across from the blacksmith’s shop, +and the hotel, and “handy-by” from the market and +post office. When any frequenters came down to the +business portion of Silver Sands, morning, noon or night, +they always dropped around for a minute, or an hour, +to wait for whatever errand had brought them to mature, +it might be the mail to be distributed, the horseshoe to be +set, or the drummer to arrive at the hotel for their appointment +with him, and there paused for a bit of gossip. It +was a kind of distributing agency for the private affairs +of the town and now and then the outlying districts. It +was the country club for the so-inclined of the town, and +stood in place of golf for the men who did not aspire +to athletics. The good old fire engine was athletic enough +for them, and between fires they stood around and polished +it and worshipped it, and told tales of their own valor.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Uri Weldon hastened early to the rendezvous that +morning with an air of mysterious importance, and felt +gravely the responsibility of so choice a bit of news as +he carried.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Back in the dim shadows of a windowless apartment +under the stairs where the oiling and polishing rags were +kept, a tramp awoke at the first scraping of the first armchair +on the cement floor. Awoke to the dismal necessity +of another day, and the immediate problem of getting +out of his concealment before he was discovered. His +hairy, dirty face appeared weirdly in brief relief on the +doorway, as Uri Weldon settled back with his feet on an old soap +box, and his pipe tilted at the right angle for conversation. +Ted Loundes and Flip Haines lounged up to the +doorway, and leaning up against the door frame, one either +side of the door like a couple of bronze figures personifying +Ease and Relaxation.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Uri Weldon started in on his tale with many an embellishment, +interrupted by loud haw haws on the part of the +younger men. The tramp frowned and ventured another +look, scouting for a back exit and finding none. The +tale went on. The tramp was not interested. He could +not help hearing, but he took no heed till Ted, helping himself +to a long sliver from the batten door behind him +and cautiously picking his teeth therewith remarked:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I hear that guy Greeves has a pile of dough.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Uri Weldon nodded, importantly.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, yes, he’s got a pile. Them Silvers was always +well off. Course they owned the beach and the sand business, +and all that ground the fact’ries were built on, and +then the right of way where the railroad went, and stocks, +and so on. But now you know a lot of land they had +somewhere out in Oklahoma has begun to produce oil. +They say the money is rolling in from that. And +besides all that he writes books! Everybody knows they +charge a turrible price for books. It always beat me how +they got it. Just a little paper and ink, and words—just +<span class='it'>words</span>! And getting paid for it! They tell me he’s +written a book about <span class='it'>bugs</span> that they charge three dollars +and seventy-five cents for, and the people in the colleges +are buying ’em like hot cakes! It beats me how with all +that learning they can be so easily fooled! But so it is, +and Pat Greeves is profiting by it. Well, I suppose his +pretty little brats of daughters will inherit a coupla millions +apiece or more when he kicks off. Seems queer though. +You boys don’t remember, but Pat Greeves and I used to +be in a fight in school pretty near every day when we was +kids—Hi, there boys! Look up the street there! I bet +that’s her coming down this way now!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Uri’s feet and the front legs of his chair came down +to the cement pavement with a crash simultaneously, and +the two younger men came about face with alertness and +looked in the direction of Uri’s finger.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Gosh!” ejaculated Flip, “she’s some winner, isn’t +she?” “Get onto that epidermis, Ted? Some heft to +her too.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>All three men with casual manner sauntered eagerly +nearer the street and the tramp, peered earnestly out, stealing +across the open space with catlike celerity, then drifting +hastily behind the offset at the side of the fire house, paused +to take his own observation. This then was the daughter +of the rich oil magnate who wrote books about bugs.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He had once been a city tramp and he flattered himself +he knew style when he saw it. The cut of a garment, +the hang of a fold that bespoke quality, the deep blue flash +of a jewel, the peculiar dash of the whole makeup that +spoke of lavish purse. The tramp watched and listened +to the comments of his companions unaware of his very +existence, and thought within himself how might he turn +this accident of knowledge to his own account. But when +the three friends returned to their former attitudes in the +doorway of the fire house the tramp had melted away like +the shadows and was seen no more.</p> + +<h2>XV</h2> + +<p class='pindent'>Patterson Greeves had not slept at all the night +before. His mind was wrought to so high a pitch that +it seemed as if he never would sleep again.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Silver’s music had not soothed him, instead it had +wrought his heart to sorrow with the memories which +came trooping, flooding, threatening his self-control. Her +touch was so like her mother’s, her selections, many of them +Alice’s own favorites. It seemed as he sat there with +half-closed eyes watching her that it must be Alice. It +could be no other.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>At last the girl herself had seemed to feel the strain +she was putting upon her father, and whirling about on +the piano stool she declared she had played enough for +the first night.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>It was then the minister roused from his delight in the +music, realizing that it was time for him to take his departure +and leave this father and daughter to settle their own +situation by themselves. He expressed his pleasure in +the music and his hope that he might hear it again, more +and often, and made his adieu.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Just a moment, Bannard,” said Greeves as they neared +the front door, “I’ll get that book for you I was speaking +of. I saw it this morning in its old place on the shelf—if +you don’t mind taking it with you.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>They stepped into the library and turned up the light. +There sat Blink, sound asleep, with a draping of angle +worms all around the rim of his tomato can, and one bolder +than the rest strewn out across his knee.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Roused, he declared he had not been asleep, but had +been enjoying the fire and the music, merely waiting till +they were through to present his gift. Trust Blink to +be equal to a situation. Nevertheless he grinned at his +worms, and gathering them up flashed a joke at them that +brought a little breath of mirth into the tense atmosphere +of the evening and made everybody feel better.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>When Blink and the minister had taken their leave +Silver and her father sat before the fire hand in hand, +half shyly for a few minutes and talked.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>If the music had not helped Patterson Greeves to solve +his difficulties, it had at least made the situation clearer +to his daughter.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Father,” she said shyly, almost hesitantly, “don’t +you think perhaps if you will have a quiet talk with Athalie +in the morning it might help? I’ve been thinking about +it. She’s probably as excited as we all are. It must be +hard for her too. I think perhaps if she understood you +might be able to make it easier for her. I was trying to +think how I would feel if I were in her place—she was terribly +excited and hurt—you could see that—”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>They talked for sometime and when Silver finally went +to her room Patterson Greeves turned out the light and +in the dying firelight he paced the room for hours, back +and forth.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>In the small hours of the night Anne Truesdale +from her anxious chamber off the back hall heard him +come softly up the stairs to his room, but when she went +in the morning to put his room to rights the bed had not +been slept in. There was only a deep dent in the coverlet +where folded arms and a head must have rested as of one +on bended knees. But Patterson Greeves had no one left +to pray to, unless it might have been his dead wife Alice, +or his sweet departed Aunt Lavinia, for he did not believe +in a God. And if there had been a God he was angry with +Him for bringing all this horrible thing to pass upon him.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>But when morning dawned, even before Anne +Truesdale had been down to open the shutters and tidy +up the rooms, he was back in the library again, pacing +back and forth. And as soon as ever it would have done +any good to call, he was after long distance trying to telephone +his divorced wife. He had decided that Athalie +must go back to Lilla. He would make it worth her while.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He made a pretense of eating some breakfast with +Silver—no sound had as yet been heard from Athalie’s +room, and none in the family were disposed to disturb her—but +it was plain that he was nervous and overwrought, +and the slightest sound made him start and listen for +the telephone.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>When the call came at last, he hurried to the library +only to be informed that Mrs. Greeves had sailed for +Europe the day before to be gone indefinitely.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He hung up the receiver and stared about the room +with that dazed expression he had worn the day before +when he first knew that Athalie was coming to him. And +again there sounded in his ear the ring of that derisive +laughter, echoing along the halls of his soul with taunting +sweetness. Lilla had won out again. It was as if she had +tossed her daughter over into his keeping and put the sea +between them, so that he was not able to send her back, +not even able to bribe Lilla with money to take her unwelcome +child to her heart again.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>After a few moments he rose and gravely walked to +the window. The stun of the blow was subsiding and he +was beginning to take it in for the first time that this +impossible child was his irretrievably to keep and to care +for from this time forth, and that he could not rid himself +of the trust. For the first time he was taking it in, +and some of the things he had flung out in his first bitterness +of soul in talking with the minister the night before +came back upon him as great truths that he had uttered. He +was responsible for the child, responsible for what she had +become. He could not shirk any longer what he had tried +to shirk for life. He must face it now. There was not +distance enough in the whole universe to put his responsibility +away from him. It would follow him like a shadow +wherever he went, whatever he did.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>How could he ever write again with this horror hanging +over him? Well, what difference did it make to anyone +whether he ever wrote again? What difference did anything +make to him?</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Gradually, however, the business habits of his life +settled upon his mind and he began to come at the question +more sanely, more seriously, and to really try to think +what he could do, and what he should say to this strange, +unloving, unlovable girl.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Perhaps the thought of Silver with the Alice-eyes writing +some letters up in Aunt Lavinia’s room, a sweet strong +sane presence, helped to keep him from the insane desperation +that had come upon him the day before. At any rate +his tortured mind finally thought out a way, made a semblance +of a plan, of what he should say to Athalie and +how he should say it.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Thinking more coolly now he could see that he had +antagonized her. She was like Lilla. That was plain. +Strange that both his children should be like their mothers +entirely—and yet—no, he could see some things in Athalie +exactly like himself. That being the case perhaps he could +understand her a little better if he would come at her in +the way he would like to be approached himself, reasonably, +gently, firmly, but pleasantly. Subconsciously he had +known that yesterday, but it had seemed too much like +yielding to an outrageous imposition to treat her in any way +but imperiously. Well, that was all wrong, of course, from +her standpoint. He had simply antagonized her. It +would be of no sort of use to try to control her until he +had some hold upon her. He had shown his utter disapproval +of her, her dress, her appearance, her habits, from +the start. Could he possibly retrieve the past and begin +again? Well, it was up to him to try. He could not rid +himself of her by making her hate him, though he had no +real desire to win her love. Still, he must try something. +He could easily see now it would be useless to send her +to any school against her will in this state of mind. She +would only disgrace him and be back upon his hands in a +worse condition than before. He must do his duty somehow, +whatever a father’s duty was. Somehow he had never +thought before, till Silver looked at him with Alice’s eyes, +what the duty of a father might be.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>So he rang the bell for Anne and asked her to say to +Miss Athalie that he would like to see her in the library +as soon as she had finished her breakfast.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie took her time.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>She bathed herself leisurely, toying with her perfumes, +she bathed her face many times in very hot water and only +powdered it lightly, giving a becoming touch of shadow +under her eyes as of much weeping and no lip stick at all +to her full mouth. It took quite a while to get just the +right atmosphere, for it was difficult to make the healthy +Athalie look as if she were going into a decline.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>She really was trying to please her father. She chose +a little dashing frock of dark blue wool with a great creamy +white wool collar curiously rolled about her shoulders, and +a daring scarlet sash of crimson silk with fringe that hung +several inches below the hem. She even put on black +silk stockings, thin they were and extremely lacy, but +black, and completed by little fairy patent leather slippers +with straps intricately fastened to look like ancient Greek +foot attire. A black velvet band about her forehead completed +her costume and she descended slowly, casually, to +the dining room and rang the bell imperiously.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>It was Molly who brought a tray with ample food, +but she rang again and sent for more, and pursued the +even tenor of a prolonged breakfast with satisfaction, +until Patterson Greeves awaiting her in the library was +almost at the limit of his patience and his newly assumed +gentleness, and could barely keep his resolves from leaping +out the door and escaping him altogether.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>But at last, after lingering in the garden a moment to +gather a flaunting red tulip and stick it in her dress where +it flared against the white of the collar, she sallied into +the library without waiting to knock and gave her father a +cool good morning, quite as if he might have been the +naughty child and she the casual parent, with many, many +greater interests than just parenthood.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Following out his resolves with a visible effort he +wheeled a comfortable chair for her to sit down where +the light would fall full upon her face and he might study +her as they talked. She watched him sharply and then +turned and stood with her back to him looking out +the window.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Come here and sit down Athalie,” he said, “I want +to have a little talk with you.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Fire ahead, Pat,” she said nonchalantly, “I’d rather +stand here and look out.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>What could a father do under those circumstances? I +ask you what <span class='it'>would</span> a father do? His blood boiled. His +temper arose and clamored for satisfaction. He was no +father of course, but how could he be? Here was this +impish child of his defying him again, making it practically +impossible for him to exercise the self-control and +gentleness he had intended. It was as if she suspected his +scheme and was blocking it. How could he have a heart-to-heart +talk with a broad blue and white back, a blur +against the sunshine of the morning. How was he to +make her understand that he meant to do his best by her, +do all that was best for her whether it was hard for himself +or not, if she stood like that and ignored him? He +ought to give her a good whipping. That was what she +deserved. It was barbarous of course, but she was a little +barbarian, and nothing else would probably reach her. +Nevertheless—he glanced around and summoned his new +resolves that were just sliding out the door, grappled them +to his side, and began:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Athalie, my child,” he began, realizing that it was +necessary for his own good that he recognize the relation +openly. He cleared his throat, “I—ah—”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Aw, cut the comedy, Pat! What’s eating you? Spit +it out! I know I’m in for the deuce of a time, but if +you’re going to preach a sermon you’ll have to do it without +me. This is too gorgeous a morning to be shut up in +the house. Say, Pat, don’t you ever play golf? What say if +you and I go to some country club around here and have +a game, and then take lunch? Let’s have a ripping old time +together and get acquainted, and after that if you haven’t +got it all out of your system yet I’ll agree to listen.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>For an instant the astounded father gazed at the face +of his cock-sure amazing daughter and wavered, almost +considering whether he could accept this high handed proposal. +Perhaps if he had this story might have been a +different one in many details, who can tell? But Patterson +Greeves’ sole contact with youth since he passed out of +that class himself had been in the class room or on the +battle field, in both of which places he had been the dictator, +able to put his victim through instant discipline if he did +not obey in every particular; where a mere black mark on +a report card, or a spoken word to an under officer, meant +that the delinquent would be dealt with speedily and +thoroughly, and where respect and obedience were the +foundation of breath itself and nothing else was to +be tolerated.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>And now, while his flesh shrank from the encounter +before him, and his whole soul cried out for respect and +the open air, a relaxed conscience, and a chance to get things +into some natural order again, his puritan inheritance and +his whole training demanded respect and obedience, and +the moment passed. The scene of the night before rose +in his mind’s eye and his blood boiled. He was again in +the position of an outraged parent struggling for self-control +while he read the ten commandments to a +naughty child.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>And perhaps it was as well, for Athalie knew how to +take advantage of the least opportunity, and she <span class='it'>had</span> to +learn <span class='it'>sometime</span> that law was law.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The silence was growing very tense. Athalie, quick +to note his every phase of attitude toward her, so sure +of him when she finished her wheedling sentence, began +to grow uneasy as his gaze continued, staring, stern and +displeased.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Athalie,” he spoke at last and his words were like +icicles, “I can go nowhere, do nothing, until I have had +an understanding with you.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>A sullen cloud settled down over the girl’s face.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Sit down.” He pointed to the chair. Athalie hesitated +a second, then with her sullen eyes like smouldering +fires fixed on him, seemed to think best to obey, but she +sat down tentatively, with one foot slid slightly behind +her in readiness to arise again if he offended her. Her +lips were pouted angrily. She shrugged her shoulders with +a bored attitude as if she were but humoring him for +the moment.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The speech he had framed through the long hours of +the night deserted him now when he most needed it. +Strangely it did not seem to fit. He struggled to find the +phrases, cutting ones, intended to show her her place, +and keep her in it, an ultimatum which would put things +on a proper basis. But the whole thing was gone, and +nothing but his own helplessness was upon him.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Then something Silver had said the night before about +talking gently, reasonably, came to him. A sense of the +room and its hallowed memories filled him. It was as +if those who had loved him and cared for him in his earlier +years might be hovering around unseen waiting to help +him through this trying time. He dropped his forehead +on his hand for a moment almost humbly, and then lifting +his eyes he tried to tell the girl what was in his heart. None +of the sentences he had planned were there. Many of the +words he spoke he would not have wished to say to her, +it was condescending too much to one who had treated +him and his so lightly.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Athalie,” he said, and his voice sounded now more +gentle, with that certain something which always brings +attention, “you and I are not in a very pleasant position. +Perhaps it may be as hard for you as for me, I do not +know. I may not have seemed to you very kind nor sympathetic +when you arrived. I certainly did not welcome +you. I was utterly unprepared for your arrival, as your +mother must have known and intended that I should be. +I do not intend to speak of her nor the past any more than +is necessary; and there must of course be a great many +things that you do not understand about our peculiar situation. +We shall just have to put away the past and try +to build up a relationship from the beginning. In order +to do that there are one or two things that must be +clearly understood.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“In the first place we belong to an old and respectable +family with many traditions that must be honored, and +standards that must be upheld. We owe it to the past.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He studied her blank sullen face for a moment wondering +if she understood.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He struggled to make his words plainer.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“There are certain customs and laws of society which +we have always maintained. I cannot have my daughter +transgressing these things. Our women have always been +good and pure, and have never sought to imitate men, +nor to flaunt their personalities or their persons. They +have always been modest, quiet, sweet women, dressing +unobtrusively, becomingly, and in a modest way. I cannot +countenance the way you speak, the flippant, pert, rude +disrespect, both to me and to the old house servants who +have been with us so long that they are an integral part +of the family. I cannot countenance your mannish ways, +nor your cigarette smoking, nor your décolleté? dresses. I +like sweet, modest girls, and if you and I are to get on at +all together you must drop these ways and try to be a +good girl.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie’s eyes smouldered furiously, and her lips curled +in contempt.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I suppose that other girl just suits you!” she +stormed, “little simp!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Silver seems a very modest, sweet girl,” he assented, +wondering what he ought to say about the way she had +treated the picture last night.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, I <span class='it'>hate</span> her!” said Athalie in low hard tones, “I +<span class='sc'>hate her</span>!—and you sound to me awfully what they call +at school, ‘mid-Victorian.’ ”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Patterson Greeves began to realize that he was not +getting on very well. He looked at his hopeless offspring +and longed to vanish out of her sight forever, caring not +where or how his soul was disposed, so he might finally +escape the problem of her. But something in his puritan +conscience refused to let him slide away from the issue. +He must face and conquer it. He had slid out of his +situation with Lilla by letting it take its course—or had +he? Was she not even now as poignant and tangible an +element in his life as though he were struggling to live +his daily life by her side? It passed through his mind +that perhaps nothing was quite ever shoved aside or slid +out of. Perhaps we always had to reckon with everything +we did, sooner or later—sooner <span class='it'>and</span> later. That was a +question of life that might be worth looking into, might +make a good subject for an article for a magazine—what +strange thoughts form themselves beneath the surface +when we are in the midst of a tense and trying time! +Patterson Greeves brushed the thoughts away impatiently +and sat up. He must get these things said that he had +resolved to say.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“It makes no difference what I sound like,” crisped +the father, “nor by what names your school friends choose +to call things. I am telling you certain facts which must +be acted upon by you as long as you are under my care. +They are the only basis upon which you and I can have +any dealings whatever. You cannot carry things with a +high hand, ignore everybody else and overturn systems. +You are not the ruler here, and you must understand it +from the beginning.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He paused and eyed her, but she gave no sign, just +let her smouldering eyes rest on him sullenly, unflinchingly, +the slow contempt in the upper lip continuing to grow.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Those things being thoroughly understood and complied +with on your part willingly,” he went on hurriedly, +determined not to give her an opportunity to demur, “I +am entirely willing to talk over your future with you, +and try to arrange as far as is possible and best for you, +to make such plans as will be agreeable to you. As to the +school you will attend, I shall be glad to send for catalogues +and let you have a part in the selection of your—”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>She raised her hand imperiously.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Stop right there!” she demanded sharply, “if you’re +banking on me being a good little girl and going to school +you might as well understand that I won’t! I came here +to live with you. The court said I was to be under your +care, and here I’m going to stay. If you try to send me +away anywhere I’ll simply run away and make you more +trouble. I’d drown myself before I’d go to another boarding +school. I’ve lived in boarding schools all my life and +I’m <span class='it'>done with them</span>! You can’t shunt me off that way +for it can’t be done!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>A glance into her eyes showed that she fully meant +every word she said and something in her tone reminded +her stubborn father that she had inherited his power of +sticking to a decision. Remembering last evening it seemed +fully likely that she would carry out any threat that she +might choose to make. He shuddered inwardly and began +to weaken.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Of course, if I found that you were entirely submissive +and obedient it might be possible to arrange a +school not far away—”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie arose abruptly.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Is that all you have to say to me?” she asked in +a business like tone, “because I’ve got some letters to +write.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Athalie, sit down,” he thundered, entirely unnerved +feeling that his work was all undone again.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Not when you speak to me in that tone,” said the +girl shrugging her shoulders and raising her chin. “I +suppose you call that kind of talk up to the standards of +your respectable family.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The crimson swept over her white sensitive face. Her +voice was so perfectly like Lilla’s, the reply so entirely +what she would have given.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I beg your pardon, Athalie. It was not. I am +very much upset this morning. I will endeavor to control +my voice. Will you kindly be seated? Now, I want +to ask whether you are going to be willing to be subject +to my authority? If not I must begin to take immediate +steps to place you where you will be looked after in the +right way. I cannot have such scenes recurring. I may +as well say I <span class='it'>will</span> not have them. I am a busy man +with important work to do, and this is utterly upsetting. +Will you be a good girl and try to do right?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>His offspring regarded him coolly.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I don’t know whether I will or not,” she answered +calmly, “it depends upon how you behave. If you let +me have my own way and have a good time I presume +I shall—depends upon what you call good. I don’t intend +to be goody goody. But if you try to bully me you’ll wish +you hadn’t, that’s all. That’s what I told Lilla when I +left her. I said ‘Lilla, he may have bullied you, but he’s +not going to bully me. It isn’t being done.’ ”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>A sudden startled wonder came to him as she spoke +of her mother that made him forget to listen to the arrogant +ending of her sentence.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Athalie,” he said suddenly changing the subject, “are +you aware that your mother has sailed for Europe?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The girl gave him a look as if he had unexpectedly +stabbed her, and her eyes filled up with tears, her lips +trembled. She struggled for an instant with a sob, gave +a slight nod of assent with her chin and broke down with +a heart rending little cry, sinking her head upon her arms, +her whole gaudily attired body shaking with suppressed +sobs, as if the thought were too deep for sound.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Patterson Greeves stared at her for a moment uncomprehending, +unable to meet this amazing phase of his most +mysterious daughter, resenting her change of combat as +if she had broken some rule of the game. She was not +being true to type. How could he meet such an antagonist? +Lilla used to cry prettily, pettedly, outrageously, to order, +when she found all other weapons useless; but this was +grief, genuine, deep, terrible. The grief of an uncontrolled +nature. Grief of the kind he always had felt in his own +troubles. Was it possible that something in his heart was +stirring toward her, yearning—? No. This child of +Lilla deserved all she was getting—ah! but child of himself +too. Could it be possible that Lilla loved the child? +If so why had she sent her away from her? It seemed +out of the probable that Lilla could love anything but herself. +Could it be possible that the child loved Lilla? She +did not seem like a loving child. But those sobs were not +angry, they were hurt, stricken cries. Had Lilla been +unkind to the girl? His sense of justice roused toward +her. He put out a vague hand and touched her shoulder.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Athalie, haven’t you had a—<span class='it'>happy</span>—life? Hasn’t +your mother been good to you?” he asked hesitatingly.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>She lifted a tear stained face from behind which fires +flashed in her eyes, and shook his groping hand off.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“That’s none of your business,” she said, “you never +tried to make it any happier, did you?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The father sat and saw a few more of his shortcomings +marched out before him in the open, and swallowed hard +on the sight. He, Patterson Greeves, of a respected family +had contrived to do some of the most contemptible things +a man can do on earth! It was unbelievable, and yet he +was beginning to believe it.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He stared at her a moment with that dazed expression +coming again. It dazes most souls to really look in their +own eyes and behold how different they are from their +fancied selves. Then he drew a deep sigh and arose going +to the window to stare out across the meadow.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“No. I don’t suppose I ever did,” he said reluctantly +at last. The sobs ceased as suddenly as they had begun. +There ensued a prolonged silence. Then the father added +as though to himself:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I had no intention of overlooking any duty, I simply +did not realize.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Finally the girl raised her head and in quite a controlled +voice said:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“That’s all right, Pat, I’m here now. Forget it! We +aren’t getting anywhere and I’m going up and wash my +face. If you change your mind about that golf just send +me word.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>She was at the door when he wheeled about and said +hesitatingly: “There’s one thing, Athalie, I wish you +wouldn’t call me Pat. I don’t like it. It sounds disrespectful. +It makes me ashamed. I—”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“All right, dad, since you ask it that way I won’t, but +I like you a lot more when you’re Pat. It seems to make +you more homey and understandable. Well, so long! You +know where to find me!” and she flashed away like a +bright-throated, naughty blue-jay.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The father sat down in a chair and covered his face +with his hands. The interview for which he had been +all night preparing was over and he had got nowhere. +Nothing had been accomplished, except that perhaps he +himself had weakened. A sense of his own forgotten +responsibility, and a certain wistful turn of her voice had +undone him. How was he ever to do anything with this +unmanageable child?</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The door suddenly opened without warning and +Athalie’s head flashed in again.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I just wanted to say, dad, that if you take that other +girl along you needn’t count me in. She and I are two +people. I hate her. So don’t go to bunching us up for it +won’t work, and don’t give me any more of that line about +getting advice from her about dress, see? I won’t stand +for it, that’s all. If you want me to live up to your standards +you’ve got to live up to mine! understand?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>She was gone. And if she had suddenly hurled a +leaden weight on her father’s heart the world could not +have turned darker or his heart been more heavy. How +was ever such a state of things to work out?</p> + +<p class='pindent'>A soft knock on the door broke in upon these thoughts, +and Silver stepped within the room dressed in coat and +hat and gloves, with her suitcase in her hand.</p> + +<h2>XVI</h2> + +<p class='pindent'>Whenever Silver came anew into his vision again +she gave her father a start, her appearance was so much +like his lost Alice.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>There was something exquisite and spiritlike in her +face that rested and soothed him. It was curious that +the word “blest” flitted through his mind when he thought +of how she made him feel. He lifted a troubled face to +greet her now and a sick dismay stole over him as he saw +the suitcase in her hand.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>She put it down and came quickly over to him, her +lips smiling although her eyes were grave. Her voice +had a lilt of sorrow in it though she tried to make +it cheerful.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Father, I’ve thought it all out in the night,” she +said perching on the arm of his chair and putting her arm +softly around his neck—just so her mother used to sit +and touch his hair lightly with her fingers. He had not +thought of it in a long, long time.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“You see, I’ve sort of promised this man I would take +this position, and he has held it for me already for several +days while I was getting packed up. I feel that I ought +to go back right away and get to work.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>She was talking rapidly, trying to stem the tide of +emotion she evidently felt, and the stricken look on his +face made it no easier.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I didn’t tell you this morning at breakfast because +I didn’t want you to be disturbed by any other question +till you had had your talk with Athalie. It wasn’t fair to +her. But I saw her just now as she came upstairs and I +feel sure you have come to some understanding.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Now, father dear, please don’t try to change me,” +she took the hand that he put out in protest and held it +close. “Listen to me. It isn’t at all what you are thinking. +I’m not being driven away nor anything. I am simply +going away because I feel that it is my duty. No, you’re +not to talk, please, till I’m through. Listen, father, Athalie +is younger than I am and she needs you more. You must +get acquainted with her and teach her to love you. She +hasn’t ever had anybody real to love her, I am sure, and +I have, you know. And it isn’t as though I didn’t have +you too. It’s quite, quite different from what it was before +I came. I have a father now and I know he loves me. +And we can write to each other, and that will be wonderful! +And I’ll have someone to advise me—”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Stop!” cried Patterson Greeves springing to his feet, +his tortured nerves refusing to hear more. “Stop! don’t +speak of it again! I tell you I have borne enough. You +shall not go away, Silver, my Silver-Alice! I need you! +I want you! You remember your grandmother told you +to find out if I needed you. Well, <span class='it'>I do</span>! God knows I do! +Do you suppose for an instant I would let the welfare of +that other strange child come between us? She is nothing +to me, never can be. Her mother was a viper, and she +is going to be just like her! I will send her—!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Suddenly both of them became aware of the opening +of the door and there on the threshold stood Athalie, +attired in giddy sports clothes with a golf club in her +hand, but the bright smile with which she had entered +had died on her lips and her face was white as death, her +eyes like two blazing coals.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>For an instant she stood there facing her father, her +eyes wide with sorrow, consternation, something terrible +and inscrutable. Then she turned with a quick glance +of hate toward Silver and exclaimed:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, heck!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The slam wherewith she emphasized her exit from the +door reverberated through the house like thunder as she +stormed upstairs again. Anne Truesdale hurried in from +the back hall with her apron wrapped around her hands +and over her heart, and stood like an old gray squirrel her +head on one side perking her ears, watching, listening. But +Athalie’s sobs were smothered in the pillow for the hurt +had gone deep, deep!</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The two left in the library white and shaken looked +at one another.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Silver’s eyes said sadly: “Father, don’t you see I +must go?” but the man’s lips spoke the answer.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“It would be impossible, Silver. I could not +endure her.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>It was an hour before they arrived at a compromise. +Silver was to remain for a time, was to send for her trunk, +and to be allowed to follow her own course about keeping +out of Athalie’s way, on condition that the father was +to make an honest effort to win Athalie to a better way +of behavior, and to try to cultivate a little love between +them, though that Patterson Greeves declared was an +impossibility.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>To this end he had agreed to keep his feelings in the +background and try to show Athalie a good time, that +being the thing which seemed to be uppermost in her +mind and the most likely to make her amenable to reason.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>When Silver left him to go back to her room it was +with the satisfaction of seeing Anne Truesdale precede +her up the stairs to tap at Athalie’s door with the message +that her father was now ready to go with her to the +golf links if she would come down at once.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>How had the slip of a girl learned to wind one round +her finger? Just as her mother used to do. Always able to +make one see the sensible sane thing to do, always willing +to give up herself and stand in the background while someone +else was being helped. Oh, why, why could that +mother not have lived? He wondered all these things as +he waited for the other daughter to present herself, half +hoping she would declare against going.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie came slowly down with a gloomy air. Her +eyes looked heavy and her mouth slouched at the corners. +She carried her bag of sticks slung over her shoulder and +she had taken care to wear a bright skirt in place of the +knickers which she would have chosen, obviously trying to +please him if he had but known it, trying to respect that +vague respectable family standard of which he had spoken.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Pristina!” called grandma from the sitting room, +“come here quick and tell me which one this is.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Pristina hurried from the kitchen where she was +making cake, a flour sifter in her hand.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“That’s number one,” said Pristina assuredly, “she +was the fat one with the painted face. I wonder why the +other one didn’t go too. They are going to play golf.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Seems to me that’s rather frivolous to begin with—golf,” +said grandma. “Seems as if for a man of his +years he ought to be getting settled and getting out his +work. If he’s really so great as they say, writing books +and all, why don’t he write ’em? I have no patience with +people trying to keep from growing up. Golf! H’mmph!” +sniffed grandma.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“All great people do it nowadays, grandma,” assured +Pristina, “they talk in the magazines about it’s keeping +you in condition.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Condition! Fiddlesticks! If he’d get out and do a +little digging in his own garden it would keep him in condition +enough. What was that Pristina, that your Uncle +Ned said the last time he came down from New York? +It was something very fitting about this golf.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, uncle said he had no time for knocking a pill +around a ten-acre lot. But grandma, that wasn’t original. +I’ve heard it since, and read it in the joke column.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Very likely they got it from your Uncle Edward,” +said grandma reprovingly. “You have a way of discounting +your relatives that is very disappointing, Pristina. +Your own family are as good as any you’ll find anywhere. +Don’t go yet, Pristina. Who is that coming up from the +post office? She’s met them. Perhaps she’ll be coming +here. She’ll be able to tell us something and then we +shall know what to think. I declare it’s very embarrassing +not knowing what to think, nor how to act.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“That’s Lizette Weldon, grandma, and she’s bringing +back the cup of yeast she borrowed last week. I see a +cup in her hand.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Lizette had seen Greeves and his daughter start out.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“My soul!” said Lizette and hastened to grab her +brown cape and get the cup of yeast that she might not +miss this so great opportunity. She met them as they +were passing the gate.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Yes, that’s the one! My, ain’t she coarse!” she +commented inwardly. “Now, does he think he’s going +to pretend he don’t know me? Well, I rather guess not. +Good morning, Mr. Greeves. We’re pleased to see the +old house lighted up!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“There, now!” she said to herself, “that’ll make that +fat thing understand that I saw her last night and perhaps +she’ll be more careful when she cuts up her antics.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Patterson Greeves startled into recognition lifted a +belated hat.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, yes, good morning. It is a long time since it +was lighted. Thank you. I hope you are quite well!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“He didn’t know me from the man in the moon,” +she told herself as she hastened up the street with the +yeast. “What a man! I don’t wonder she divorced him. +Mercy, but that girl is fat! And her clothes looked like +my patchwork quilt with the rising sun pattern. I wonder +he lets her go out that way. He knows what’s expected in +this town, he lived here long enough, goodness knows. +But perhaps he doesn’t care what we think.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Pristina hastened to the door. Ordinarily Lizette was +not overly welcomed, but a common cause does a great +deal to bring folks down to a common level.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, what do you think of Patterson Greeves’ +daughters?” she asked almost before she had her breath +from coming up the steps.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Daughters?” chorused the Vandemeeter girls, all +present but Harriet who was hastening down from the +third story as fast as possible, having left a pillow in midair +as she was making the bed, when she heard Lizette’s +voice at the front door.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“<span class='it'>Daughters!</span>” reiterated Lizette sitting down complacently +with the cup of yeast still in hand, “sort of +startling ain’t it. I never heard of them before, did you? +Strange that Mrs. Truesdale or someone never let it out, +but land! she’s as close mouthed as Miss Lavinia Silver +was, every bit, and a thousand times more aristocratic. +Well, I met one of ’em face to face and I don’t think much +of her. She’s fat and coarse and dresses outlandish. I +was just thinking on my way down she looked as if she +had on my rising sun bed quilt, all queer stripes and stitches +over her skirt and sweater.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Daughters!” echoed the Vandemeeters again and +looked at one another. “We must tell Arden’s wife!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“What’s her name?” asked Pristina.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, he didn’t name her when he introduced her,” +evaded Lizette. “Perhaps that’s the fashion now. But +the fact is I don’t believe he remembered my name, although +he pretended he was awful pleased to see me.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well—it’s only natural—after all these years—” +said mother comfortably.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“No tain’t natural, you know tain’t. Why, I’ve +spanked him for stealing my cherries!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“That’s probably the reason,” said Pristina, “one +can’t be dignified in the face of a spanking. How old +is that girl anyway?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, I hardly know, Pristeen, she looked older, an +younger, ’n she oughtta be. I couldn’t quite describe it. +Kind of as if she was an old woman that hadn’t growed +up, or a baby that had lived a hundred years. One thing +I know, she had smut under her eyes, and them lips never +grew red like that. It ain’t natur’.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Is she the oldest or the youngest?” asked mother, +biting off her thread and holding up her needle to the light.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, ’deed I can’t really tell you Mis’ Vandemeeter, +but I shud judge she might be the youngest. But then +I ain’t seen the other so you can’t tell. This one wears +pants, regular pants like the boys, if that’ll tell you anything. +But laws! The other one may too for all I know. +She keeps herself mighty close.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“She went out with Pat—with her father I mean—yesterday +afternoon,” contributed Harriet. “She looked +to me like a real modest appearing girl. She has pink +cheeks, not too pink, and light hair, a real girl. I liked +her looks.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I’m sure I don’t see how you could tell at that distance, +Aunt Harriet,” said Pristina coldly.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, her dress seemed quiet,” defended Harriet.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, they may wear dresses that scream for all +me,” said Pristina crossly, “I’m going back to my +angel cake.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Lizette’s languidly alert eyes followed her mournfully, +and when the click of the flour sifter could be heard she +lowered her voice sepulchrally:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Wasn’t Pristina rather interested in Mr. Greeves at +one time?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Mercy, no!” clamored mother so audibly that her +voice could be heard in the kitchen, “Pristina was a babe +in arms when he went away from here. Just because she +did her duty by honoring a fellow citizen in her essay at +the club everybody has jumped to the conclusion that +she’s in love with him. I wish to pity’s sake you’d turn +your attention to someone else, Lizette, and not carry +gossip around about my child.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, now Lucy, I certainly think you’ll have to take +that back. I don’t know what you mean. I only asked a +simple question, didn’t I? And I don’t originate all the +questions in this town do I? If I give you a little hint of +what’s passing isn’t that only kindness?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Mrs. Vandemeeter pursed her lips around a pin and +looked angry.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, all I’ve got to say,” said Lizette rising offendedly, +“is, if you don’t ever find any worse things said +about you than I say you can count yourself well off. +There’s your yeast. Don’t trouble to get up. I’ve got to +run right back. I thought you’d be interested to know, +but of course if you’re not I’ll keep the rest to myself. +Good-bye.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>She shut the door with a slam and swished down the +front walk.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Cat!” said Pristina from behind the pantry door.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“There, now Lucy, I’m afraid you’ve done it. She’ll +tell something a great deal worse. It never does to make +an enemy mad, especially if she’s got a tongue, let sleeping +dogs lie, the saying is, and it’s very true,” said grandma. +“Something about it being better to have even a dog your +friend, too, what is it? Don’t any of you know? It +bothers me so to have something like that I can’t remember. +Now I shall lie awake all night tonight thinking of that, +and it will worry me like anything that you gave her a +chance to talk about Pristina, Lucy. She’ll talk, I know +she will.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Let her talk!” said mother with her head in the +air, “I guess Pristina can stand it. Pristina’s a lady.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well,” said Pristina, “I’d like to know what those +girls are named. You can tell a whole lot by names.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“You’ll know soon enough,” said grandma, “get back +to your cake. I wonder if Arden’s wife knows about their +being daughters! Well, I must say it’s a relief to know +they’re daughters. The neighborhood has always been +so respectable.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie was a different creature on the golf course, +alert, strong, skillful, full of eagerness, like a boy. She +whistled and talked slang and patronized her father till +he began to feel like a small boy himself, and all the time as +he walked silently from point to point studying his amazing +child, he was seeing himself in all her actions, and then seeing +Lilla in her waywardness between, and realizing more +and more that he was responsible for this queer tantalizing +creature. Part of the time also he was wondering why +he had been persuaded to come out on the golf course with +this child whom he disapproved, whom he did not want +to be with, and why he was trying with all his might to +control his temper and make her have a good time. It +was all Silver’s doings, “Silver-Alice!” he said it over and +over to himself. “Silver-Alice! Silver-Alice! Silver-Alice!” +and the name sounded sweet to his soul. Why had +he not known what sweetness there was in fatherhood?</p> + +<p class='pindent'>On the way home it almost appeared from something +Athalie said that she had been trying to make him have +a pleasant time. He felt strangely touched and chagrined. +Not that he liked to have her put herself out for him. It +went against the grain to find her doing such a thing. But +the justice in his soul cried out for her due. He found +himself promising that the morning should be repeated and +then groaning within himself over the interruption to his +life this was going to be.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>But when they reached the house and Anne told him +that the minister had called up to ask if they would +like to take a drive that afternoon he found himself entirely +willing to be interrupted still further.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>There was a struggle in his mind about taking Athalie +along on the drive. He felt she would be a disturbing element. +But when he asked her finally if she would like to +go she asked suspiciously:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Is <span class='it'>she</span> going?” and when he answered in the affirmative +she shrugged her shoulders and said, “thank you, no. +I told you how I felt about that. You can’t expect me to +come when you take her.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He was relieved. It made things easier. He felt +sure Bannard would be better pleased.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Silver too was relieved. He could see that. Yet there +was a cloud in her eyes, a weight upon her heart. Her +conscience was over active. It troubled her that there +should be enmity between her father’s daughter and herself.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>But the day was gorgeous, one of those caressing days +in spring when June seems to have anticipated herself +and earth’s tuning has begun. Little warm scents flitted +about, and tiny melodies of living creatures moving, the +whir of a bee’s wings, the grumble as he worked, the stir +of things growing, budding, blossoming, grass blades like +rockets shooting everywhere, sharp emerald sounds broadcasting +only to those whose ears attuned to their pitch, a +meadow lark’s note, high, clear above it all.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>And then the three seemed so congenial. There was +so much to see and talk about, so much in which all +were interested.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Bannard was the guide, Greeves the historian, Silver +the audience, eager, questioning.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>They started up the road past the schoolhouse where +Greeves had been a student, out the old Pike, across the +covered bridge and curving back of the village along the +beach of silver beside the sparkling stream, down toward +Frogtown. Bannard wanted to show them his mission, +and to point out a good location for the proposed building.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>They drew up in front of a row of old stone hovels +crazily jostling each other facing the road and the creek. +Bannard pointed to a vacant lot not far away, and he +and Greeves were discussing whether it would be better +farther up the hill. Silver sat watching the children playing +on the path, dirty little things, yet beautiful beneath +the dirt. Wonderful starry black eyes set in faces that +might have been the models for some of the angel faces +in the paintings of great masters, tumbled curls, and rosy +cheeks, tiny earrings glittering sharply under the dirt and +tousle, little bodies scantily clad, little savages unaware +of their soil and nakedness. Clamoring, fighting, throwing +mud, the older girls carrying babies too large sizes for +their backs, the younger babies huddled to watch +the automobile.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>A woman hurried out from one of the houses, a +curious three-corner shawl of bright colors thrown over +her head and folded back like a head dress. She had an +air of excitement. Bannard called to her:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Good morning, Nuncie, all well at your house?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, it’s the maister!” cried the woman, her voice full +of agitation, her dark lined face working with emotion.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“It’s the baby, little Mary, Angelo’s Mary. Vary seek. +I go for the doctor. He come two times yesterday. I +tink she got the pneumonias. She turn all black. Her +heart stop—”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Before the account was finished Bannard was out of +the car. “Will you excuse me a moment?” he said +hurriedly, “I must go in and see. This is the beautiful baby +I told you about,” he finished, looking at Silver.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, please let me come too. Perhaps there is something +I can do. I have had a course in nursing.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Come then,” said Bannard and hurried into the +house without knocking.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Greeves put out his hand to stop her, but Silver was +gone before he realized. Pneumonia! Didn’t the child +know that was contagious. What did Bannard mean by +letting her go? Suppose she should take it and die, now +when he had just got her, leave him as her mother had +done! He shuddered and sprang out of the car, +resolved to bring her back again into the clean air +and sunshine, away from germs and contamination. What +was the use of being a specialist on germs if one couldn’t +save one’s own from danger? So he stumbled up the +steps and into a deserted room.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>There was no squalor nor dirt. The walls were grimy +with age and use, and the bare floor was worn in hollows +by many feet, but both were clean as soap and water could +make them. He stared about. There was nothing in the +room but a cookstove neatly blacked with a pot of stew +simmering away, a wooden table covered with oilcloth, +two chairs and an old sofa with lumpy springs. A painted +dresser held a few cheap dishes, some spoons and forks; +and a pair of rude steps shallow almost as a ladder led +up through an open door, winding out of sight. He could +just see the flash of Silver’s gray-blue tweed skirt as she +disappeared up those impossible stairs.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Silver!” he called and then without knowing it, +“Alice!” but no one answered him. The sound of the +factory near by kept up a monotonous clatter in regular +rhythm, and there were subdued voices overhead. He +stepped to the door and looked up. Such stairs! He never +had seen their like. They were like carvings in a sheer +wall. They went winding up in the shallow space like +pictured stairs, like the stairs in a nightmare. How did +anybody ever climb them? How had Silver and Bannard +climbed them? Didn’t Bannard know any better than +to let a girl go up a place like that? He put a tentative +foot on the first step and perceived that it was hollowed +out in bowl shape by many feet that had gone before. He +groped with his hand to the wall that seemed to advance and +slap him in the face. He lifted another foot to another +step, and went winding and groping up in the dark and +uncertainty. A woman appeared at the head of the stairs +weeping. She had wonderful dark hair and her eyes +were piteous.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I have come for my daughter. She ought not to +be in here,” he shouted at her. The woman chattered +some jargon at him that had a tang of French, or was +it Italian? But he could understand nothing but the words +“doctor” and “little ba—bee” and then more tears. She +passed beyond his vision.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He lifted himself another step, and yet another and +stood head and shoulders in a room light and clean with +whitewash, a large framed picture of the painted Christ +on the cross hung on the wall opposite him over the head +of a big brass bed made up with white draperies trimmed +with hand knit lace, and on the clean pillow lay a little +face, the most beautiful baby face Greeves had ever looked +upon, short black curls tumbled on the pillow, long curling +lashes dark upon the rounded cheek, beautiful baby lips +gasping for breath, treacherous blue shadows deepening +about the eyes and nose.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“These windows ought to be up if it’s pneumonia,” +Bannard explained in a whisper. He stretched out a +strong arm and threw up both windows. Silver was leaning +over the baby feeling of her forehead touching the +pulse of the little fluttering restless hand.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“She ought to have oxygen, Mr. Bannard. Can’t +you get some quick?” Silver looked up.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I’ll get it,” said the minister. “Can you stay here +till I come?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>She nodded. “Quick!” she was down on her knees +beside the bed, putting the spoon which the mother handed +her to the little tight-shut lips.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“She ought not to be here!” repeated Greeves wildly, +but Bannard swept him along down the stairs with a +strong arm.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Greeves, just run over to that grocery and ring up +Doctor Carr. Tell him I said to come instantly to Angelo’s +house. I must go for oxygen. You stand by till I come. +I’ll be back in five minutes.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Before the dazed professor of bacteriology knew what +was happening or could put in a protest Bannard’s car +had given a lurch and darted down the road, and Greeves +found himself walking across that squalid street, entering +the grimy unsanitary grocery and asking if he might +telephone for the doctor. It reminded him of France. +But is was very different from sitting in an office and +telling other officers where to go and what to do. He +had done reconstruction work, yes, by proxy. It was not +the same. He had been an executive. But this was close +contact. He hurried back with the idea of carrying Silver +bodily out of the infected air, and found himself once more +standing at the top of those ladderlike stairs in that white +airy room, gazing at the little blackening face, listening to +the gasping of the baby, the mother’s tears, and his +daughter’s voice praying in low gentle tones:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, Jesus, you know how this mother loves her baby. +Come and help us if it be your will, save this little darling’s +life. For Jesus’ sake we ask it,” and the mother bowed +and crossed herself, hushing her sobs.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Someone brushed roughly by Greeves on the stairs +almost upsetting his balance. To think these people lived +every day on stairs like this. Incredible! A tall man, +young, splendidly built came quickly to the bed and knelt +on the other side from the mother and Silver. He took +the little fluttering hand in his big rough one. His face +was tender and there were tears raining down his cheeks +but he paid no heed to them.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Poppie come, Mary, poppie come! You hear poppie, +Mary? Poppie come home from his work to stay +with Mary!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Greeves stood and gazed transfixed at the face of the +rough man before him, transformed by love, tender and +sweet with fatherhood! So this was what it meant to +be a father!</p> + +<p class='pindent'>This was the way he would have felt if he had let +himself! This was what he threw away carelessly when +he took himself out of the reach of his first little child, +and brought another carelessly into the world to leave to +any Fate that came her way.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Let poppie hold it Mary. Let poppie hold it!” +the strong hand grasped the weak restless fingers, and the +little hand relaxed. For an instant the great dark eyes +opened wide in recognition of the beloved face, and the +dark head that had kept up its restless motion back and +forth, from side to side on the pillow rested. The +parched lips that had murmured hoarsely—“No! No! +No!” were quieted. Then the blessed oxygen in the hands +of Silver and Bannard reached her nostrils and she drew a +long deep breath. The gasping ceased little by little and +another breath came. A sigh of relief. The fluttering +lids drooped and the long lashes lay on the white cheeks +again. A restful natural sleep was coming upon the +little one.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The doctor came in quietly, laid a practiced finger on +the fluttering pulse. The child started and opened her +eyes once more. Her glance rested on the doctor in +frightened question, then turned to the father and was +content, dropping off to sleep again. The doctor nodded +to Silver in answer to some question about the oxygen, +opened his case and prepared some drops which he handed +to Angelo. The father took it and held it to the little lips +with as much skill as one trained to such service could +have rendered. Greeves stood there watching him with +almost jealous eyes, seeing as in a vista a long line of +tender services he might have rendered had his heart been +right to his own. Where did this rough untaught man +learn such angelic gentleness? Here in this bare little +house with an environment of the plainest necessities, the +father had fenced in a little piece of the kingdom of heaven +for his child. Greeves suddenly realized that he was +envying this rough untaught working man. With all his +knowledge and culture he had missed the blessedness of +living which this other man had found, and even his sorrow +was sacred because of the love that was between him +and his child.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Bannard had gone out again and now returned bringing +with him the district nurse. She quietly took things +in her capable hands and the minister’s group was no +longer needed.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>As he stumbled shakily toward the treacherous stair +Greeves caught hold of the rude railing and gave one more +glance back at the big brass bed with the exquisitely knitted +white spread, and the wee white face framed in dark curls +on the big pillow. The madonna mother was standing +at the head on one side, the tender father kneeling at the +other, tears raining unchecked down their sorrowful faces, +and the face of the painted Christ overhead looked on with +yearning eyes. It was a sight he never would forget.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He felt his way down the dark chute, for it was little +else, groping with his feet for the shallow steps, and +stumbled out into the sunshine, silent and thoughtful. He +forgot how it was that he came to go into that house of +sorrow, forgot that he had let his child stay as long as she +was needed, forgot the words of criticism he had prepared +for Bannard for letting her go into the infectious atmosphere. +For the first time in years he had become a part of a +great suffering universe. He forgot his own individuality, +and his grievances, and his heart was throbbing with sorrow +for another.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Meantime, Athalie at home, was preparing an elaborate +toilet for her evening with Bobs in the city.</p> + +<h2>XVII</h2> + +<p class='pindent'>Down the street from the direction of the schoolhouse +proceeded a merry group of girls, stopping at their various +respective houses on the way to leave books, lunch boxes, +and tidy up hair and hands and face. Laughing and chattering +they came on with a sudden hush of awe as they +approached the Silver gate, so long an unopened portal +to young people.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Mary Truman and Roberta Moffat went first by reason +of Mary’s having been the instigator of the function. +Mary’s heavy braid of bright long hair had needed little +tidying. It ended in a massive wave of gold below the +crisp dark blue ribbon, and frilled in little golden tendrils +about her face. Mary wore no hat to rumple the smoothness +of the ripples from the delicate line of parting on +her crown. She scorned hats, except for Sunday.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Her neat blue and white checked gingham was just +low enough to show the white of her throat, above the +sheer collar that matched the rolled back cuffs and pockets +banded with the gingham. The whole school thought that +Mary Truman was always well dressed. Those little gingham +bindings on the organdy pockets for instance marked +the line between the banker’s daughter and other girls +whose mothers had not the time to bother with such details.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Roberta Moffat was short and fat, attired in pink +chambray whose hem had visibly been “let down” and +whose yoke had faded to a nice dependable flesh tint, but +her round pleasant face was always wreathed with smiles. +She had a glitter of white even teeth and a pair of nice +black eyes above the little pug nose that was covered with +freckles. Always copying Mary as far as her limited +means allowed, she wore no hat, gathered her scant +locks into an attenuated pigtail, and acquired a habit of +tossing back the straight locks that would keep falling +over her eyes where the hair wasn’t quite long enough from +a defunct bang to catch into the confining pink ribbon +that started the pigtail. The ribbon was washed and +dyed, and showed signs of droop, but had been retied and +stuck out bravely for the occasion.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I guess she’ll be glad when she sees somebody coming +to call on her soon, don’t you, Mary?” whispered +Roberta with a soft giggle.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I should think she ought to,” said Mary seriously, +“I certainly am glad you are all with me, girls. Just think +how I’d feel now if I was alone!” and she squeezed +Roberta’s plump elbow lovingly.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Emily Bragg was tall and her sleek brown hair had +been bobbed, not for purposes of style however. The top +was longer than the rest and fastened at the side with a +celluloid slide that gave her the look of an old-fashioned +china doll with painted hair all made up hard. She wore a +straight little one-piece frock of brown denim with characters +worked around the edges in red worsted. On her +head was a boy’s brown wool cap, one of her brother Tom’s, +and the big shell rimmed goggles that sheltered her merry +eyes gave her the look of a good natured boy. She climbed +trees and fences, could whistle as well as any of her +brothers, and everybody liked her, but she wasn’t a beauty. +She was just behind Mary and Roberta, walking arm in +arm with little Carol Hamilton, a slight little fairy with +pink cheeks and short golden curls who always dressed +in pale blue and was adored because she was so pretty.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Della McBride was much taller than the rest, wore her +long brown braids in a coronet around her head and had +big dark blue eyes with long lashes. The seriousness of +her face was somewhat accentuated by a retreating chin. +She was wearing a middy blouse and a dark blue skirt, +and her companion Vera Morse, a quiet girl with pale +eyes and her hair “done up” and brought in sleek loops +over her ears, wore a white shirt waist left over from +last year, and a brown wool skirt. She carried a brown +straw sailor in her hand, and talked in a low sweet voice.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>They were a wholesome group as they fluttered up to +the steps and sounded the old brass knocker, their subdued +chatter like the chirps of a bunch of sparrows on the +garden wall.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Anne Truesdale let them into the house and seated them +in the drawing room dubiously. Such a circumstance +had not happened since the days of Miss Lavinia, six whole +callers at once in the old house! Then with deep reluctance, +only goaded thereto by an indubitable conscience, +she mounted the stairs and tapped at Athalie’s door.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, come in,” drawled that young woman affably, +“I’ll let you fasten this frock. I can’t seem to reach around +there any more. I was just about to ring for you. It +fastens up the back under that drapery.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Anne paused in dismay and surveyed the young woman, +but made no move to investigate the hooks in question.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“There are some young persons down in the drawing +room come to call on you,” she announced severely as if +it were a reward far too good for the girl before her, +but must be handed over for honesty’s sake.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie swung around and faced her.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Come to see <span class='it'>me</span>? What are they? Men?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Of course not!” reproved Anne. “They’re +little girls.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“<span class='it'>Little girls!</span>” scoffed Athalie taking up a powder +puff and giving a touch to her nose, “well, you can tell +them to go to thunder! I’m busy. I hate little girls.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Anne gasped and tried to begin again, with fearful +vision of what it would be if this strange freak of a girl +refused to go down.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Indeed, Miss Athalie, they’re quite grown up little +girls. They’re some of them older than yourself, and +they’re the daughters of the best people in this town. +Your father’ll be quite angry if you don’t see them.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie surveyed her coldly. She remembered that +she was trying to please her father as far as it was compatible +with her own plans.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Very well,” she said coolly, “I’ll be down after a +while and look them over, but I never had much time for +girls, unless they have some pep, and I don’t fancy they +have in this little old town. Are you going to fasten +those hooks for me or not?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, Miss Athalie,” said Anne disapprovingly, “you’ll +never be going to wear that frock downstairs at this time +of the day! The whole village would be scandalized, and +your father would be disgraced. The young ladies would +not understand it I am sure. It’s not at all the custom to +dress in that style of an afternoon.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie was attired in a startling costume of scarlet +satin and tulle, set off by long clattering strings of enormous +jet beads, and pendant hoops of jet with long fringes +dangling from her ears. Her hair stood out in a perfect +thistledown fluff, scarlet stockings of sheerest silk, and +tiny high heeled red leather slippers with intricate straps +adorned her plump feet. Her face and arms and neck, +of which there was much in evidence, were powdered to +a degree of whiteness that reminded Anne Truesdale of +a Bible phrase about whited sepulchres. Indeed she was +a startling vision as she stood there imperiously waiting +for Anne to fasten her scant shoulder drapery and looked +years older than she was. Many items of her toilet which +happened to be picked up from Lilla’s cast off finery doubtless +assisted in this impression. But when Anne finished +her protest, and made no move to assist her ladyship, a +storm arose on the whited face, and the red kid slippers +stamped in rage.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Thank you,” she said grandly, “I’m not in the +habit of accepting advice from the servants about what +I shall wear. You can go! I’ll get along without your +assistance. I see I shall have to ask my father for a +French maid. Go! I said! <span class='it'>Go!</span>”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Anne went.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>When she reached the door she paused.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“You’ll be down at once, Miss Athalie, please—! +It’s not considered good breeding to keep young ladies +waiting.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Shut that door!” stormed Athalie. “I’ll be down +when I like and not before.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Then in quite a leisurely manner she dabbed more +powder on her nose, struggled with the refractory hooks +until she conquered them, tilted a bit of a hat of scarlet +straw and ribbon atop her fluff of hair, brought it well down +over her eyes, jerked it aslant until the dangling cluster of +overgrown cherries wherewith it was adorned hung well +over one cheek. She surveyed herself in the glass complacently, +posed imperiously, then took up a pair of long +black gloves, an evening coat of black satin with a collar of +white fur, and slowly descended the stairs.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Down in the drawing room the waiting girls were having +a grand time. They had been little children when +last they remembered coming to that dim shrouded room +to call on dear Miss Lavinia whom each one of them had +loved. They went quietly about looking at the portraits +and whispering at first, giving bits of memoirs that were +family traditions in their homes. Gradually they settled +down to await their hostess’ coming.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“We ought to have told Mrs. Truesdale not to have +her dress up,” said Mary, “we should have said we’re +just from school.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, well, what’s the difference. She’ll come pretty +soon,” said Roberta, “I like to sit in this big room and +wait. Won’t it be a grand place to have the Christian +Endeavor social? My! I hope she asks us. We could +toast marshmallows at that fire, and there’s room for a +long line of chairs for Going-to-Jerusalem. The boys +always like that so they can rough-house.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Maybe Mr. Greeves might not like rough-housing,” +suggested Della. “He’s a very great writer my +father says.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh we’ll get father to invite him over that night so +he won’t hear it,” said Mary happily. “Father can always +fix people so they don’t mind things.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, I’m sure I don’t think its very polite of her +keeping us waiting so long. There won’t be any time +to take her walking nor show her the schoolhouse before +supper if she doesn’t hurry.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Maybe she was taking a bath,” suggested practical +Emily Bragg. “You know you couldn’t come down +all soap.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The girls giggled.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Shh!” said Mary, “I think she’s coming.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I wonder what grade she’ll be in,” whispered Carol.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Sshhh!” said Roberta, “there she is! Oooohhh!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie flashed on their vision between the portières, +and stood, one hand holding back the heavy curtain, her +evening cloak still on her arm, and looked them over half +contemptuously. They arose en masse, in silent, breathless +wonder. They had never seen anything like it before not +even in the movies. Silver Sands was rather careful what +films came to town. Mrs. Truman headed a committee of +patrons who assisted the managers in making their +selections.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>At last Athalie broke the stillness which was growing +fairly electric:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I’m Miss Greeves!” she announced, “did you want +to see me?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The girls might have been said to huddle in a group, +feeling suddenly that in numbers was strength. Mary +as leader and instigator of the expedition gave a frightened +glance behind her, and stepped bravely up as her father +would have done if he had been there.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“We’ve come to call,” she said pleasantly, watching +the twinkling earrings with curious fascination, “mother +thought you might be lonesome—”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Very kind, I’m sure,” responded Athalie insolently, +“I was just going out, but it’s early. I can spare a +few minutes.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>She flung her cloak and gloves on a chair and sat +down, her scarlet tulle draperies flaming about her. She +sat with the pose of a society lady, her body flung rather +than seated upon the chair. The girls were deeply impressed, +all but Emily Bragg who wanted to laugh.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“We don’t have to stay,” said Emily, “girls, let’s +go over to Mary’s and make fudge if she’s busy.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“We just came in because we thought you might be +lonely,” repeated Mary again, deeply embarrassed.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, I’m never lonely,” flipped Athalie, “besides I +have hosts of friends who’ll soon be here to see me from +N’York. I’m going to have a house party next week, +sixteen in all, eight girls and eight men!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Men?” echoed Roberta wonderingly.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Yes, eight men. Of course it’s awfully hard to get +them this time of year when it’s so near time for exams, +but they’ll be here for the week ends.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, you mean examinations,” said Della seriously.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“We thought perhaps you’d like to join our Christian +Endeavor society,” braved Mary. “It’s awfully +interesting.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I don’t imagine so. What is it? A dancing club?” +queried Athalie indifferently.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, no!” said Mary, two red spots appearing on +her pretty cheeks. She felt she wasn’t getting on very +well somehow, “it’s just our young people’s society. We +have lots of good times. Picnics and socials, and we play +games, and then we have our meeting Sundays—”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“What kind of games? Bridge? Five Hundred? or +do you go in for athletics? I don’t suppose you play golf?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Bridge? Oh, no, not bridge!” said Vera.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Nor five hundred,” said Della, “just games.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“My father plays golf,” said Carol. “I’ve tried it but +I don’t care much for it. It’s too slow. I like tennis better. +We have tennis courts at the school.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Are you going to start school right away? We’ve +been wondering what grade you’d be in.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I? School? Oh, I’m done with school! Dad tried +to talk school to me when I first arrived, but I let him +understand he couldn’t make anything on that line. I’m +certainly sick of school. Of course we had piles of +fun at the last one, pajama parties every night, and screams +of times. The boys from the prep weren’t far away, +and they were always onto us when any of us got a box, +so they’d come over under our windows and we’d throw +down cake, and they’d tie boxes of candy and cigarettes +on the strings we let down, and notes, oh, say! Those +boys were the limit! There was always something new. +But what bored me was the teachers! They didn’t seem +to remember that they had ever been young, and they +kept at us continually, nagged us about our lessons, and +exams, it made me hot! They were getting paid for us +being there! I don’t see what more they wanted.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Silence, prolonged and heavy ensued. The girls looked +at one another awe stricken for the father whose daughter +had so little daughterly respect. They all had fathers +whom they loved, fathers who were trusted, tried companions. +It didn’t quite go down. Athalie realized she +had struck a wrong note. She liked to shock people but +when it came to being looked down upon, she didn’t quite +like it. Neither did she understand the look of awe and +disapproval on their young faces. Emily Bragg began +to giggle as if somehow she were some sort of show. The +others darted quieting glances of rebuke. Athalie felt she +must break this silent disapproval. She hated them for +not admiring her. She got up with a swagger and whipped +out her cigarette case.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, excuse me girls, do you smoke? Have a cigarette.” +She passed the gold trinket to Mary.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Mary seemed to turn pale. She got up and took a step +toward the curtained doorway.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I think we must be going,” she said coldly.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, don’t you smoke? Not <span class='it'>any</span> of you? How +tiresome! Then I’ll order tea. Truesdale!” she lifted her +voice, “tea for the ladies!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Anne appeared instantaneously, as though she had not +been far away, her face white with emotion.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The girls eyed one another uncertainly. They wanted +to get away. They did not any of them drink tea. It +was not allowed in most of their homes at their age unless +they were ill. They didn’t like it.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>But the tea wagon appeared as if by magic, and behold +Anne had provided lemonade as well as tea! And there +were heaping plates of angel cake and chocolate cake. +No one ever caught the servants in that house napping. +They were always on the job and always anticipating every +possible contingency. Molly was even then in the pantry +concocting another cake to take the place of those for +dessert that evening along with the strawberries.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie had lighted a cigarette and taken a few puffs +at it delicately as the tea wagon was brought in. Now +she poured herself a cup of tea and drank it with several +pieces of cake while Anne was serving the girls.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Mary with her plate in her hand looked up to find +Athalie’s eyes upon her with amused contempt. Her +heart cried out to get away and weep on her mother’s +shoulder. She never had felt so utterly outraged in the +whole of her happy protected life. It seemed as if the +very foundations of her clean beautiful world had been +torn away and flung to the four winds. “I hate her! <span class='it'>I +hate her!</span>” her heart kept saying over to herself.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I thought you were going to ask her over to your +house tonight to make fudge,” suggested Roberta in a +loud whisper, and Mary, lifting her eyes perceived that +Athalie had overheard.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“We were going to make fudge tonight at our house,” +said Mary thus prodded. “I live next door. Would you +like to come? We’ll have a lot of fun.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Any men coming?” asked Athalie speculatively.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Men?” queried Mary half puzzled, “my father—”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“She means the boys,” said Emily Bragg, “my goodness!” +and giggled.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Our high school boys will be there,” said Mary truthfully, +hoping Athalie couldn’t read it in her eyes how +much she did not want her.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Boys?” said Athalie, “awfully young I suppose? +Well, I’m sorry but I can’t make it tonight. I expect to +spend the evening at the roof garden in the city, maybe +a cabaret or two afterwards. I sha’n’t be home till quite +late. Sorry—some other time perhaps. Now, I’ll have +to ask you to excuse me. It’s getting late. So glad you +called. Good-bye.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>She gathered up cloak and gloves and marched grandly +out of the room, down the hall and out the front door +just as Anne Truesdale appeared with another plate of +cookies to supplement the rapidly disappearing cake. She +had intended to leave word with Anne Truesdale that +she had gone to bed with a sick headache and did not wish +to be disturbed for dinner, and then to descend to the +street by way of the pergola, but the temptation to sail +grandly out before these girls was too great and she followed +her impulse. There would be a way out of it all after +she had had her fun, and the momentary vision of Anne, +startled, her mouth dropped open as she watched her leave, +did not worry her at all as she adjusted her long cloak +and sailed jauntily down the street.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Over at Vandemeeter’s every eye was watching, as +they had been since the school girls entered. It made a +pleasant little stir in the monotony of the day to feel that +festivity going on. It recalled days when they themselves +arrayed in best silks, new hats and fresh gloves had accepted +Miss Lavinia’s sweetly, friendly invitations and felt above +the common lot for a few brief hours. Ever since Arden’s +wife had run in in the morning to tell them that the girls +had planned to go they had gone about their work with +a pleasant anticipation. They felt in a way concerned, +and thought highly of the Trumans for having suggested +the call, for was not this a public recognition? And if +departed spirits were permitted a glimpse now and then +of their old homes, would not Miss Lavinia be pleased +that the town had honored her beloved boy’s family? +They felt the Trumans had done the proper thing and +were glad they belonged to a town that knew what to do +in a trying situation. Glad, too, that the question of +accepting Patterson Greeves or not into good and regular +standing in the town had been settled so satisfactorily +by the Trumans. No one ever questioned what the +Trumans did.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>But when the scarlet lady with her flapping coat of +black and white suddenly emerged from the old front door +and sallied down the front walk with such an air, they +gazed in amazement with bated breath, and no one dared +whisper till she was out of sight. Then all with one consent +drew back from their several windows and looked at one +another as if facing some awful thought.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“<span class='it'>Who</span> was she?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>It was mother, her rugged face almost white with a +kind of social fright, who broke the silence and voiced +the wonder of them all.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Pristina whirled back to the window and in a hard +little voice answered:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“It was <span class='it'>her</span>! The fat one! The one <span class='it'>they went to +call on</span>!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, my <span class='it'>soul</span>!” said mother, stooping to pick up a +pin and unable to find it in her excitement. “Oh, my soul +and body! Why that’s an insult.” Maria licked her lips +with the tip of her tongue with the motion a man uses +to whet a scythe.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Now I wonder what’ll happen!” she said, a hard +glitter in her eyes, as if she rather enjoyed the prospect. +Maria was one of those who having failed in gaining +many of the joys of this life was not content to see others +receiving them. Not that she was unkindly when it came +right down to actions—only in a little cattish way with +her tongue, and the expression of her face.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>They were watching the Silver house so hard that they +failed to notice the minister’s car until it drew up in front +of the gate. Mother strained her eyes anxiously.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, anyhow, I’m glad it wasn’t that one. She +seems to be real sweet.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Now, mother, you always jump to such hasty conclusions,” +said Maria. “I’m sure I don’t see how you +can tell whether she’s sweet or not at this distance.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Said Pristina thoughtfully:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“She’s sitting in the front seat with the minister!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Yes,” said Maria caustically, “seems to me it’s a +little soon to begin that.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Maybe he began it,” said Harriet sympathetically.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Not he!” said Maria. “He wouldn’t have to! It +beats me what the girls nowadays have done with their +modesty!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, where did modesty bring us?” laughed +Cordelia.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Cordelia Vandemeeter! I’m surprised!” rebuked +Maria.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Then Silver and her father and the minister got out +and went up to the house and the front door closed again. +And what had become of the high school girls at tea?</p> + +<h2>XVIII</h2> + +<p class='pindent'>Barry Lincoln was helping Sam Fitch to build a +fence for his chicken run. The Fitch place stood up and +back from the street on a slight elevation among a grove +of light maples. The chicken run was higher up the hill +to one side and commanded a wide view of the road winding +round to the bridge, and over into the woods. It +was the last house on the street as you went toward +Frogtown from the south end of Silver Sands.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Barry had just pounded his thumb trying to straighten +a refractory nail, and had thrown down the hammer and +stuck the soiled thumb in his mouth when the flash of a +scarlet hat, and the flutter of scarlet tulle came into sight +down the road. For an instant he stared in astonishment +for such a sight was not native to Silver Sands and Barry +knew everybody that lived there, by sight at least. Then +something familiar in the swagger of the plump figure +struck him and he drew his brows in a frown and turned +a quick look at Sam.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Sam was down on his hands and knees with his back +to the street nailing wire to the base. He would not be +likely to see her. Barry stooped and picked up his hammer, +and began a tremendous pounding on the corner post, +straightening another nail, his weather eye to the road, +unheeding the blood which was streaming from his +bruised thumb.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>At just the right instant as Athalie passed behind +the group of tall cedars and was for a few seconds lost +to view, he threw down his hammer with an exclamation, +and called to Sam in an imperative voice:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, I say, Sam, run to the house quick and get me +a rag to do up this blamed thing. It’s bleedin’ like +the deuce!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Sam accustomed to obey Barry, his baseball idol, +dropped his own hammer instantly and with a sympathetic +glance toward his wounded companion steamed +toward the house without delay. When he returned with +the required rag and a bottle of arnica Athalie was well +across the bridge.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>A tumult of thoughts was running through Barry’s +brain, foremost among them the telephone conversation +he had overheard the day before. Vaguely in the background +the sudden flash of coral and silver draperies and +little shiny slippers, the tempest of words he had heard +in the Silver hall the evening before, with the stormy +sobs, lasting long after the music had begun. How much +responsibility had he, Barry Lincoln, for this strange +fat specimen of womanhood who wore pants and made +appointments over the telephone to meet men from the +city agreeing to stay till all hours of the night? Barry +Lincoln’s code was a simple one, but it had an old-fashioned +twist to its ideas of womanhood. His mother was a sweet +faced, sad-eyed little widow who wore plain black dresses +and did her hair smoothly except for the satiny crinkle +of it around the edges of her forehead. She had given +him the habit of a clean mind in the midst of a wicked and +perverse world, and he somehow patterned his ideas of +Girl and what she should be on a picture of his mother +taken just before she was married, when the light of joy +was in her face and her eyes were like reflections of the +kingdom of heaven. Barry knew a whole lot more about +the world than his mother had ever told him, but he had +kept his clean habit of mind, and any deviation from it +on the part of a woman, especially a young woman, gave +him always a feeling of nausea. However, this was something +no one would ever have guessed. Barry was one +who told not his thoughts among men.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>So, now, when he saw this poor little daughter of Eve +taking her way toward the path of temptation he was +not interested. But the memory of a haunted look in her +father’s eyes the night before and the good comradeship +he had offered on the evening of the fire, together with +the lingering fragrance of cookies imbibed now laid upon +Barry’s conscience a duty toward his fellowman. If this +girl was really going on an unlawful holiday which might +bring pain and shame to his friend, ought he not in all +loyalty to that friend to do something about it?</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Out of the tail of his eye he watched the scarlet flash +as it followed along the line of the road, crossed the bridge, +left the road and crept up the hill toward the woods. He +sat down on the doorstep and kept Sam’s back to the hillside +until the scarlet hat and the dark cloak disappeared +into the woods, and only glimmered unnoticeably among +the young leaves as it went farther and farther away from +the road. At last his mind was made up.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Doggone it, Sam, now that hand’s goin’ to be no +good today. Wha’d I have to pound that for? Clumsy! +Say, Sam, les finish this t’morra. What’d’ya say we take +a day off and go see if we can find Beazley? He ought +to be back home from his aunt’s by this time and it isn’t +much of a run over to the Corners. Say, you go get the +roadster and run her over to the Pike, an’ I’ll skip across +to the creek where I was yesterday morning and see if +I can find my knife. I’ll meet you up by the old camp +entrance in about fifteen minutes. But if it’s half an +hour or longer you stick, for I’ll be there! Beat it now, +and don’t talk, Sam. Remember to keep yer mouth shut!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Sam hurried away with a light of eagerness in his eyes +and Barry arose and took long strides across the fields +toward a spot in the landscape a quarter of a mile to the +north of where Athalie had entered the woods. As he +disappeared among the undergrowth he cast a speculative +eye to the distant road, but no one was to be seen as yet.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Now the “roadster” above-mentioned was as much +a part of Barry Lincoln’s existence as his dog or his fishing +rod or anything but his mother. It was called the +“roadster” by courtesy because it could get over the road +so rapidly, but there was nothing about it that would +have suggested that name in the modern acceptation of +the term. It was ancient and worn and stripped of everything +that it could be stripped of and be. It consisted +merely of its throbbing loyal heart, its four wheels, and +enough timber and metal to keep them from flying apart +when they went catapulting through space. However Barry +and whomever he elected to take with him as a companion +managed to stick on and always come home alive was a +continual wonder in Silver Sands. People told Mrs. +Lincoln that they didn’t see how she stood it having her +son go off in that awful thing, that it wasn’t safe and it +wasn’t Christian, and he always looked as if he was going +to destruction and was glad of it, that they should think it +would affect his morality, a boy like that to own an infernal +machine. He was in daily danger of becoming a murderer!</p> + +<p class='pindent'>And besides, how could they <span class='it'>afford</span> to keep it!</p> + +<p class='pindent'>When they twisted on that prying look and said that +about affording—it was usually the people for whom +she did plain sewing that said that—Barry’s mother always +crinkled up her lips into a smile that let little gold lights +into her brown eyes and made her look like Barry, and +answered always quite pleasantly:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, the old roadster is one of the family. We +couldn’t live without that. Barry never has killed anybody +yet. I hope he never will.” And she never even +reminded them how he had saved a girl’s life once with it, +running after a machine that had got out of her control, +nor how he rushed Tad Moffat to the hospital in the city +in time to save his hand, the time he got it caught in +the reaper.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>But if you had asked the boys of the town about the +old roadster they would have told you that Barry made +it “out of pieces of nothin’ off the junk heap behind the +garage” and that its chief characteristic was that it could +“go like the devil.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>It was this same go-devil that Sam climbed into, as +it stood waiting under its oilcloth lean-to beside the Lincoln +cottage, and presently shot out of the yard and around +the Creek road toward the Pike, a proud lad that Barry +had selected him to run his car.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Barry himself had rustled across the creek by a route +well known to himself, and stolen up to a favorite rendezvous +of his own near an old tree under which he often +sat by the hour fishing, looking down from his perch on +a rock into the limpid stream below, or swinging up in the +trusty branches above, from limb to limb till he reached +a point where all the woods was an open book and himself +enveloped in foliage.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>It was to this point of vantage that he now hastened, +silently, stealthily, as only such as he knew how to go. +The tree was the tallest in all the region round about. +Looking east from its height he could see the Flats of +Frogtown with the gleaming water and Silver Sands shining +in the late afternoon sun. Between him and the Flats +wound the smooth white ribbon of a road, and far as he +could see a black speck sped like a spider down its thread. +He watched it an instant and then his eyes scanned the +hillside below him, down through the trees. Yes, there +was a gleam of scarlet. Her hat. She had thrown it on +the ground and was sitting on the log. Her scarlet frock +was spread about her radiantly like a splash of vermilion +in the spring newness of green. She seemed like some +great scarlet tanager waiting for its mate. Yet when she +lifted her face to look up at the strangeness of her surroundings, +her bare neck and arms, her painted lips and +pencilled brows, the white, white whiteness of her face +seemed out of place there in the holy quiet of nature’s +temple, a parody on a living soul, stark and shameless in +a setting of God’s things as they are. Something of this +thought perhaps entered the boy’s mind as he saw her +first, half startled to realize how near he was to her trysting +place, half tempted to slide quietly down and slip away +before she discovered him.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Yet her waiting, listening attitude held him. She was +evidently expecting someone. If the guy she had phoned +up should turn out to be an all-right fellow, why then +he would just make a quiet getaway and join Sam, and no +one the wiser. If, on the other hand, he should turn out +to be one of these fresh rotters from the city he could let +him know where to get off and see that no harm came to +that silly little simp down there, just for the sake of her +father who was a good old scout.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Presently Barry turned his eyes westward and noted +the “roadster” darting along like a small black bug as if +it had the speed of a thousand-legger. He watched it to +the Pike, and knew when it passed behind the old red +barn that Sam would be waiting there for him should it +be ten minutes hence or ten hours. Then he glanced to the +south and saw the other car, coming at full speed down +toward the bridge. Now, if he was right this would be +his city man. There were two other cars coming, Eli +Ward’s old gray limousine that he bought for two hundred +and fifty dollars and fixed up himself, and the grocery +delivery, speeding recklessly back from the afternoon +rounds. But this was a strange car he saw at a glance, +and presently it came to a halt, just below the group of +chestnut trees, and a head came out and looked around. +The car jerked on a few feet farther and the man got out, +looking around him uncertainly. He measured the distance +from the bridge with his eye and began an ascent +at random, looking this way and that, furtively. As he +came on there were places where the branches were thin +and his face was in full view. Barry studied him curiously. +He was tall and thick set, with a heavy jowl and a tiny +black moustache over his full red lips. He had taken off +his hat and was mopping his face. The climb seemed to +be hard on him. As he looked up once the boy was astonished +to see that he was not young and that there were +bags under his eyes, puffy places that belonged to a +high liver.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“He’s old enough to be her grandfather!” thought +Barry disgustedly, “what a doggone little fool!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie arose and poised on the log with outspread +arms, and the man cautiously approached, a hungry bestial +glint in his eye that the boy in the tree resented.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“He’s rotten!” said the boy to himself. “Gosh! what’ll +I do about this? Her father oughtta keep her in! Gee!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The man was upbraiding Athalie for coming in such +a noticeable dress. “Are you sure nobody saw you come?” +he asked her in a surly tone smoothing the plumpness of +her bare arms with his well groomed hand as he talked. +“It won’t do to have your dad get onto us,” he added, +“you’ve got to be careful you know.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie pouted, and the man talked to her in a low +rumble. Barry could not hear many words. He wished +he were well out of that tree and back making a chicken +run. He wished he had never gone to that fire in Frogtown +nor met the new Silver man, nor taken his old worms to +him. Heck! What a mess! What did folks want to be +fools for?</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The word “divorce” floated up once, and then something +about the state line. He heard Athalie protest that +she must go home and get on a white dress, but the man +insisted that he could not wait, it was now or never. What +on earth did it all mean? The state line was miles to the +south. Premonition filled his breast. That man certainly +was a rotter. He wished he could get down and punch +his head, but it didn’t seem to be advisable at the moment. +He didn’t know enough about things to interfere. Maybe +the man was just wanting to take her back to her mother. +Her mother was divorced from her father. <span class='it'>Sure</span>, that was +it. Some conspiracy to get her away to her mother again. +Well, why worry? Wouldn’t that be a good thing for Mr. +Greeves? From all he had heard the night before, and +all the gossip that had been going around the town that +day, he would not expect his new friend to be deeply +grieved at his daughter’s disappearance. And yet—he +didn’t like that man’s face! Of course he might be her +uncle or something come after her. But anyhow, he didn’t +like the way the man felt of her wrist. It wasn’t nice. +Gosh, she was just a kid! Just a foolish little kid. She +was too fat of course. She’d been eating too much candy +and soda water. If she’d only get into condition, and +take a little training she’d be all right. Gosh! He’d like +to punch that man’s head even if he <span class='it'>was</span> her uncle!</p> + +<p class='pindent'>While he was thinking these things the two below +him suddenly got up and began to move down toward +the road. The man made the girl put on her cloak and +turn the white fur inside out of sight. He made her +hold up her scarlet dress so it wouldn’t show below the +black, and tuck her red hat under the cloak, and then he +pointed down the road to where a clump of bushes were +embowered with wild honeysuckle, close to the roadside +making a complete refuge, and the girl hurried off and +crept under it. The man waited, hidden in the grove till +the bread wagon passed by, and then went down to where +he had parked his car.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>A few rods up the hill in a shelter of laurel bushes a +tramp looked out with greedy eyes like an old bird of +prey and watched the girl.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Barry waited only long enough to see the man turn +about, drive to the honeysuckle harbor and stop. Then +he began quickly to slide down the tree. As he reached the +ground he heard the purr of the engine starting again, +and his feet hardly touched the sod as he sprang away +along the ridge above the creek to where a log spanned the +water, across like a bird in flight, and up the opposite bank +he ran. Now this field, and the roadster waited for him.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Over!” he shouted to Sam as he came panting up +the hill and vaulted the fence, “we gotta hurry! Took +me longer’n I expected.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Got’cher knife?” queried Sam as he moved over and +gave Barry the wheel.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Yep,” said Barry pulling his knife out of his pocket +for a brief glimpse and started his engine.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Say, which way you going, Blink? You don’t wantta turn round. +I turned here a purpose. You said you were going after Beazley.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“That’s all right, Sam. We gotta make the state line +now before another guy gets there. You sit tight.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Sam perceived that Blink had had one of his inspirations. +This was an expedition! He settled his lank length +on the airy structure of his seat and prepared to enjoy +himself. Sam had pale blue eyes under golden lashes, +carroty straight hair that stuck up like bristles, a gaunt +mouth, and was peppered with freckles. He remembered +contentedly that his mother was making apple dumplings +for supper when he went in for the arnica. He glanced +at Blink’s hand and noticed that the rag had disappeared. +A smudge of blood on the finger was all that remained of +the accident.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Have any trouble findin’ yer knife, Blink?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Nope.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The roadster was going like a bullet through the air +now, its four wheels scarcely seemed to travel the earth. +They had rounded the top of the hill and curved down +into the lower thoroughfare. Far ahead on the road +another car like a speck appeared, and disappeared. Barry +eyed it steadily as he shot ahead, the speck in the distance +growing visibly larger mile by mile. He let the roadster +out a trifle more and watched the distance grimly. Was +this his man? He didn’t want to waste time.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Sam pulled his hat over his eyes and flipped up his +collar with a lank hand. His teeth were chattering.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Gee! Blink, this is—grrr-reat!” he gulped and held +on tight, a trifle pale under the freckles.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Barry shot ahead silently. Was that a glint of scarlet +fluttering out the side of the car, or only a budded maple +branch by the road?</p> + +<p class='pindent'>At last they were within hailing distance and Barry +let down his speed a trifle. He didn’t want to pass before +the crossroad, now half a mile ahead. Strange he saw +no sign of anyone on the back seat of that car, and only +one head appeared at the front. If that was his man +what had he done with the girl? If it wasn’t his man it +was a pity to waste any more time and lose the trail. He +began to cast about in his mind where his quarry could +have gone if this was not the right car and to plan for +instant action in case he found out his mistake.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The car ahead did not turn off at the crossroads and +three minutes later Barry shot ahead. As he passed the +other car he was sure he caught a glimpse of something red +like a big ball suddenly dropping down out of sight in the +back seat.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Lamp that car, Sam!” he ordered grimly.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Sam fixed his pale eye on a bit of mirror fastened +in midair over the engine, but the car seemed to be coming +on steadily enough.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Watch if there’s more than one person in it.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Sam shifted the gum between his teeth and gave himself +to more concentrated effort.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Thought I saw something move in the back seat,” +he said at length. “There it went again. Mightta ben +mistaken though.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Barry thought he saw it too. He suddenly ground +his brakes on and sprang off to kneel before his engine.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Nut loose,” he explained to the astonished Sam +who had been nearly precipitated to the ground by the +sudden halt. He wasn’t quite sure which car Blink meant +“the nut” travelled in.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Barry’s car was well into the road. A passing vehicle +must turn out if it went by. Barry reclined by a wheel, +apparently deeply absorbed. At the very instant however, +when the other car was about to curve by him, he was as +by a miracle upright on his feet in the middle of the +remaining road space, with one arm raised in distress. +The oncoming driver had perforce to stop or submit to +being a murderer. As the man ground on his brakes and +jerked to a violent stop he let out an ugly oath, but Barry +unconcerned asked nonchalantly:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Len’ me a wrench?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“No!” said the man shortly, “mine’s lost! Get out +of my way!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Barry lifted his cap from his curls politely and grinned.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Thank you!” he said with his eye on the tonneau, +and stepped out of the way. The car shot ahead, but +Barry had seen what he was after, a big black eye peering +up over the door of the car, surmounted by a travelling +robe that seemed exceedingly alive. A flash of a white arm +and a dash of scarlet showed against the darkness of the +tonneau as the car swept by, and Barry was satisfied. He +was on the right track.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“What’s eatin’ you, Barry? The wrench’s in its place +under the cushion.” Sam eyed him puzzled. It wasn’t +like Barry to forget anything.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, is it?” said Barry innocently, swinging up on +his minute cushion, “pile in, boy, we gotta hurry.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Sam scrambled back into place again as the roadster +leapt forward. The other car was some distance ahead +now. Barry seemed to have lost interest in it. Sam +couldn’t make him out. Somehow Sam never could quite +make out Barry. He said so to the boys once and Ben +Holden told him it was because he hadn’t any sense of +humor, but that troubled Sam still more, because what +did a sense of humor have to do with understanding a person +who was perfectly grave and serious?</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Whenever they came near a crossroad or a village, +Barry speeded up. Sam kept hoping he would stop and +buy something to eat. He kept remembering those apple +dumplings. The sun was getting lower and lower. A +dank little breath swept up from the valley, full of sleepy +violets and drowsy bees humming. The birds were calling +good night. Sam’s legs were long for the space allowed +on the roadster. He grew uneasy.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Say, what time do you expect to get home for +supper?” he questioned, shifting a leg, and putting his +hand under his knee surreptitiously to ease the stiffness.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Don’t expect!” said Barry crisply, “if you do you +might get disappointed. Hungry, Sam? Let you out on +the road anywhere you say, if you like.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, no,” said Sam detecting displeasure in his idol’s +voice, “oh, no, no, I’m just enjoying this, havin’ the +time of my young life. Gee, it’s great. Only I was wondering +what your plans were?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“That depends,” said Barry, and said no more. With +shut lips the two whizzed through the county, watching +a little black speck ahead that grew dimmer and dimmer +as the light of the sun failed.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Then suddenly it seemed quite dark. The other car was +only a place of blackness in the darkness, one could not +be sure if it were there or only had been. There were +lights ahead. They were nearing a town. The roadster +reached the top of a hill leading down into the main street +among dwellings. A little trolley like a toy plied to and +fro with childish bells and lights. A church bell rang +with a sweet wholesome call to prayer. Cottages appeared. +A child under a light with a green porcelain shade looking +at a book. A family in the dining room eating their +supper. Pleasant thought. Dumplings, apple dumplings +with plenty of goo! Ummmmm! Sam looked wistfully back.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The other car at the foot of the hill turning into +the main street, stopped for an instant by the trolley. +Barry made time and arrived in its immediate vicinity as +it started on again. Barry slowed up. He let several cars +and trucks and foot passengers get between him and the +open road. Sam eyed him wonderingly. The other car +had gone on. Sam hadn’t noticed it particularly.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Barry saw it slow up in front of a drug store, and +immediately he ran his car down a side street by the blank +side of a real estate office closed for the night, and +sprang out.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Watch me, Sam! keep yer eyes peeled,” he said to +his astonished vassal. “If I don’t come back soon you +folla. I gotta get that car and its contents back to Silver +Sands t’night! See? But mind you keep yer mouth shut.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He was gone in the darkness, and Sam, whirling +dazedly round on his unsteady seat saw him vanishing +round the car that was parked in front of the drug store. +An instant more and he heard the door on the driving +side slam and the engine begin to purr.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“By gosh!” said Sam and unfolded himself to his +full height on the curb stone. “He’s a nut if there ever +was one,” said Sam to the roadster aloud.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The other car was moving! It was passing out of +sight! Blink was nowhere to be seen. Sam must move +too if he were not to lose him. Sam clambered to his +task with sudden panic and threw in the clutch.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“By gosh!” he ejaculated, but the roadster was already +going so fast that his words fell backward on the real +estate curb unheard in the darkness. Sam had already +assumed his new importance. Apple dumplings were forgotten +for the time. He had to get that roadster home +or he’d hear about it all the rest of his mortal days. Besides +he knew his mother would keep plenty of dumplings warm +for him on the back of the stove against his coming.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He made out to see a dim outline of a car in the +darkness ahead and followed, being mildly aware of an +excited man on the pavement behind him shouting and +waving his arms.</p> + +<h2>XIX</h2> + +<p class='pindent'>Anne Truesdale, bringing another plate of angel cake +that had been put aside for “the master” sighted the minister’s +car through the front window, and urging the plate +upon Roberta hastened to the door to meet them.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>It was Greeves who was walking ahead, and she put +up her hands as if in prayer and almost curtsied in her +agony, her words tumbling out in true old country style:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, master Pat, I’d not be troublin’ ye, but the young +ladies is in there and ye’ll have to tell me what ye want +done. I’ve fed ’em an’ fed ’em, everything there is left +in the house, tryin’ to keep ’em from realizin’ they’ve been +insulted, an’ now you’ll just have to do something about +it. It’ll be a scandal in the neighborhood in five minutes +after I let them be going, for Emily Bragg has an awful +tongue in her head an’ she lives next door to Arden Philips’ +wife, her that was Ruby Hamilton ye ken.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Why, Anne, what’s the matter? Try not to be +excited. Tell me what has happened? Who is in +the house?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“It’s the young ladies, the daughters of yer uncle’s +old friends, Mary Truman next door, and Roberta Moffat +and them, six of them, nice girls as ever was, come to call +on your daughters. And Miss Athalie first kept them +waitin’ an’ then she come down all in a red party dress +with that bare a neck, and no sleeves at all, and a little red +hat like a red hen atop her, and them monstrous cherries +a dangling—”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Anne was almost sobbing as she talked, and was unaware +that Bannard and Silver had come up and were +standing behind her.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Never mind, Anne,” said Greeves soothingly, “it +can’t be so very bad. You say they’re only little girls.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“ ’Igh-school girls, sir, an’ comin’ on young ladies. Oh, +but you don’t know sir, it was werry bad, werry bad indeed, +sir. She come in an’ called herself Miss Greeves, and she +offered them her smoking box, an’ then she orders tea +an’ walks out that imperious you’d think she was a queen, +sayin’ as how ’twas late an’ she had a engagement to go +to the city an’ see a carabay on a roof, sir, whatever that +may be, sir. An’ she’s gone—an’ I don’ know what to +do with ’em. It’ll be all over town before the night, +master Pat—!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Is there somebody in there to call, did you say, +Mrs. Truesdale?” interrupted Silver suddenly. “Why I’ll +go right in!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Silver ran up the steps and into the hall, flinging off +her hat in her transit and dropping it on the hall console, +tossing her gloves after it. She entered the drawing room +where the embarrassed girls were huddled together, trying +to get rid of napkins, eating furtive pieces of cake from +the plate on the edge of the tea cart, and planning a hasty +exit before any more stupefying and insulting daughters +were presented to their indignant gaze.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, how lovely of you all to run over so soon!” +exclaimed Silver ruffling up her hair with a merry attempt +at smoothing it, “now tell me who you are. I’m Silver +Greeves, I suppose you know—or perhaps you don’t. Call +me Silver please, I’ll feel more at home. And what’s +your name? Mary Truman? Oh, you live next door +don’t you? Father was telling me about you this morning +at breakfast. We’ll be friends, won’t we? Now you +introduce the rest.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>She had them all chattering together in a moment +more and they hadn’t an idea she was a day older than +any of them. She was small and slender, and had a smile +like sunshine. They liked her at once and forgot their +grievances. They began to tell her as one girl about their +school, and their Christian Endeavor, and their fudge +party, and she entered into it all eagerly. Christian +Endeavor? Of course she would join. She had been a +Christian Endeavorer at home. Fudge? She loved it. +Of course she would come!</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Bannard stood for a moment in the doorway where +he had followed to see if he could help out in the trying +situation which he had easily sensed from the few words +he had caught of Anne’s excited recital, and behold, this +wonderful little girl had everything in the hollow of her +hand. Then one of the girls looked up, Emily Bragg it +was, and giggled.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, and there’s Mr. Bannard! Won’t you come to +the party too? You like fudge, don’t you?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Indeed I do, and indeed I will,” said Bannard eagerly. +“I was wishing you would ask me only I wasn’t sure +whether the boys were invited or not.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, yes, the boys are invited,” beamed Mary Truman, +“they don’t know it yet but I’m going to call them up on +the phone. Say, Mr. Bannard will you see Barry Lincoln? +I’d like to ask him, but they haven’t any phone.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Yes, I’ll tell Barry,” promised the minister, and then +Anne Truesdale with suspiciously red eyes bustled in and +began pouring tea for the minister and Greeves. Silver +jumped up and taking her father’s arm drew him around +the group making him acquainted with each one, and +the girls marvelled that she remembered their names so +well. When they finally broke up and started home to +get ready for their fudge party Silver walked with them +down to the gate an arm around Mary and Roberta, her +head turned backward to smile over her shoulder at the +other three who were fairly tied in a knot to get closer +to her, and so they took their adoring leave at the front +gate to the great edification of the Vandemeeters, who +felt that their heads were fairly reeling with the exciting +program of the day.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I declare, if this goes on,” said mother mopping her +weary brow with her apron, “I sha’n’t get half my work +done. I do hope things will settle down pretty soon.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Over at the Silver mansion Anne Truesdale was gathering +the scattered tea things, and trying to plan for the +evening meal which had been robbed of several articles +of its menu. Greeves stood in the front hall talking +with Bannard, and watching Silver come brightly up +the path, both men thinking how wonderfully she had +turned the situation.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“You have no cause to worry about <span class='it'>her</span>,” said Bannard +with a touch of reverence in his tone.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I should say not,” said Greeves. “She’s—she’s—like +her mother!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Didn’t I tell you,” said Bannard with a twinkle in +his eye, “that tomorrow about this time you’d begin to +see God’s way taking shape?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Greeves’ face turned sharply toward him a heavy +shadow crossing his brow.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Don’t talk to me about God’s way!” he said harshly, +“I’ve seen too much of that. What about my other girl?” +and a spasm of anger went like white lightning over +his features.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“That will work out too,” said Bannard reverently. +“Give God His way and see.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Don’t!” said Greeves sharply.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“What about that man down at the Flats, that father! +I can’t get him out of my head Bannard. That’s cruelty +to make that little one suffer so. It’s cruelty to take her +away from a father and mother like that. She isn’t going +to live is she?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“She has a chance, the doctor says. It +depends a lot upon the nursing. The father and mother +are wonders, but they don’t know how.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Do you know of a trained nurse you can get, +Bannard? I’d gladly pay for one! Couldn’t we telephone +to the city for one? Two if necessary. I’d like to see +that child saved. Bannard if there’s anything that money +can do you’ll let me help out? I’d like to make that much +amends for the mess I’ve made of my life.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Bannard cast him a quick appreciative look.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Thank you,” he said, “that means a lot. There’ll +be plenty of chances for that sort of thing. But in this +case it isn’t so much a question of money as love. It would +be hard to find a regular trained nurse that would fit into +that household. You saw how primitive everything was. +It would have to be somebody who could love them to +make the service possible. I’m going down now for Mrs. +Lincoln. I think she’ll spend the night there. She’s done +such things before. She knows how to love.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>After Bannard was gone a shadow of care seemed +to drop upon Greeves’ face even while he was closing the +front door, as he remembered his younger daughter. Now +his was the disagreeable task of finding out all about what +she had done and dealing with her. How sickening the +thought! All the advantage he had gained, or thought he +had gained in the morning would be gone with the first +word. His soul shrank from the contest. He was angry +and disheartened. How was he to reach her and make her +understand, that at least she must refrain from outward +disrespect to him and his family or she could not remain +under his roof? What was the secret of her strange nature +that made her willing to do these astonishing things? He +hurried back to the drawing room where he could hear +Anne’s excited voice relating over again to Silver the +chief points of Athalie’s offense. He could see how to +Anne, what had been done was almost the unpardonable +sin. To keep the honor and respect of the village was +certainly among the first articles of Anne’s creed. With +a deep sigh he pushed back the curtain and listened.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I wouldn’t bother about it, Anne,” Silver was saying, +“Athalie probably hasn’t an idea how disagreeable she +appeared. She is in a different atmosphere from any she +has ever been in before, and it isn’t really her fault, +perhaps, that she acts so. I don’t think the girls will say +much about it. We are going over next door tonight, +and we’ll just have a good time and make them forget +about the other. After a little when Athalie gets acquainted +and gets to know the ways of Silver Sands she will want +to make them like her, I’m sure she will. Just now she’s +rather strange and upset in all her ideas—”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“That’s all very well, Silver,” put in the father, “but +Athalie can’t publicly disgrace us. And she has openly +disobeyed me it seems about the cigarettes. I can’t have +that—in this house!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“She’s been brought up to see it I suppose—”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh—yes!” said her father with a look of remembrance +sweeping over his face—“of course she’s seen +it every day. It’s her standard. But she’s got to learn +that it isn’t mine!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“When she learns to love you, father, maybe that +will make a difference,” suggested Silver shyly.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The father’s face was hard.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I doubt if she knows how to love anyone but herself,” +he said bitterly, “it was the way with her mother. +Anne, will you tell Miss Athalie to come down at once +to the library?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Anne was mopping up her eyes. She seemed to take +Athalie’s misdeeds as a personal offense. Sacredly all +these years she had guarded the honor of the family, and +now to have it trampled under foot by an alien in one +short afternoon was too much. Anne could not put it +easily aside. It was an outrage, like having bad boys tear +up the tulip beds after Joe had newly trimmed them, or +scarring the family Bible. Anne could not get over it. +She came sniffing back from the pantry door with a +handful of soiled dishes and her cheeks red and angry +looking. When she was excited her cheeks always turned +fire red.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“But she’s not here!” she affirmed indignantly, “didn’t +I tell ye she’s away down the street like a big red peacock. +I would have stopped her if I could but she’ll not mind +the likes of me.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“She went out?” queried Greeves startled, “I didn’t +understand you before. I thought you said she went up +to her room. Are you quite sure? Perhaps she’s returned +and slipped up the back way.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I’m that sure, but I’ll go see, master Pat,” sniffed +Anne, and hurried up the stairs.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>In a moment she was back again.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“She’s not up stairs, master Pat. And you should see +her room! It’s like a hurricane. There’s frocks and +shoes just where she’s dropped them, and stockings all +over the place. It’s scandalous. If there should happen +a fire—”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>But Greeves was already on his way to the front door.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I’ll go out and find her,” he said in a low tone +to Silver, caught up his hat from the rack and was gone.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>An hour later he came back with an anxious look +upon his face.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Is she back yet?” he asked Silver who had been +hovering from window to window trying to think of a +way out of the dilemma for her father, wondering if +perhaps Athalie hadn’t run away back to her mother, +considering once more whether she ought not to go away +herself and so remove one stumbling block from this +wayward sister’s path.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I met a woman—she lives next door—Weldon, Lizzie +Weldon I think her name is. She said she saw Athalie +go down the street toward the post office. She was standing +at the gate she said and watched her out of sight. +She’s one of those hawks who knows everybody’s business. +I used to hate her when I was a boy. She evidently +wanted to find out where Athalie had gone. It isn’t hell +enough to have these things happening but we have to have +a lot of vultures around picking at the bones!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, never mind, father. I wouldn’t feel too bad +about it. It isn’t your fault, and things’ll come right +after a while—”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“So you believe that too!” he said eyeing her keenly, +“well, I must say I don’t. They’ve never come right for +me yet. The thing I’m afraid of is they may confuse +you with Athalie. I wouldn’t have a breath of scandal +touch you, my Silver-Alice.” He came and touched +his lips tenderly to her forehead. She lifted clear eyes +to meet his look.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Why, I wouldn’t be afraid of that, father. It isn’t +possible.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“What makes you so sure?” he asked, “you don’t +know what old carrion crows inhabit a village like this, +till they once get scent of a bit of scandal. Why even +really good women, women who live otherwise a right +life, will snatch up such a thing and rush about carrying +it from house to house till there isn’t a tatter left of +somebody’s reputation.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Silver still looked untroubled, and shook her head.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“It can’t be,” she insisted, “there’s a promise, don’t +you know? Listen! ‘No weapon that is formed against +thee shall prosper; and every tongue that shall rise against +thee in judgment thou shalt condemn. This is the heritage +of the servants of the Lord.’ ”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He looked at her as a man looks at a beloved woman +who has just uttered some sweet fallacy concerning which +he does not wish to undeceive her. His eyes grew tender +with admiration and yearning.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“You are like your mother,” he said with a strange +embarrassment in his voice. “If only—” and then he +stalked to the window and stood looking out for a long, +long time.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Dinner was late that night while Molly made short +cake for the strawberries, but when they sat down Athalie +had not yet arrived.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“It’s very strange!” said Greeves looking at his watch +anxiously, and he went himself to Athalie’s door and +switched on the light to make sure she was not hidden +somewhere to evade them all.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He made Anne tell over again what she had heard.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“She said it would be that late,” insisted Anne, “and +she was going to the roof garden and a carabay! I’m sure +that was what she said, <span class='it'>carabay</span>!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Greeves looked thoughtful. What was that Athalie +had said about somebody in the city bringing her out the +first day? Giving her presents, going to give her a theatre +party? Surely the child couldn’t have gone in town to +meet him without leaving any word. It was absurd. Nevertheless +he kept bringing out his watch and looking at +it nervously.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Silver too, seemed worried.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Perhaps we better not go to that little affair tonight, +father, unless Athalie comes in before it is time for us +to start.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“No, that would be foolish,” he said. “Of course +you must go. We will both go. Truman was an old +friend of mine. I’d like to see him. She will come in +before long of course. She is doubtless hiding not far +away just for a freak. She is a strange child. I do not +understand her.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>But at eight o’clock Athalie had not arrived.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“There is no use fretting over it,” said her father +as he walked restlessly up and down, realizing that he +was more angry with her than worried. Why should he +worry about a child whom he neither wanted nor loved? +And yet for that very reason something in him rose and +prodded his conscience. Why didn’t he care? Why hadn’t +he looked out from her birth that she was the kind of +a child for whom he would have to care?</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He went to the telephone and called up Bannard.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“That you, Bannard? Say, that strange child of mine +is still at large. Have you any way of finding out whether +she took a train to town this afternoon, without exciting +interest on the part of the whole countryside? Good. I +thought you could. I suppose it is foolish to worry. She +certainly seems able to look after herself, but somehow +I feel responsible. Darned responsible! Thanks. Yes, +we’re going over. See you in a few minutes.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Greeves and his daughter went to the neighbor’s, and +Bannard went out to find Barry, but Barry was not to +be found. His mother was gone to the Flats for the +night to care for the Italian baby, and there was no sign +that Barry had been home at all. Bannard sauntered down +to the station and enquired of the agent who was just +closing up, whether he could remember if Mr. Perry went +to the city on the four o’clock train, and the agent said +no, there hadn’t a soul gone on that train. It was late +and he had to hang around waiting to give the engineer +a message. There never was much travel in the afternoon—only +a man and a boy took the six o’clock train +and the seven didn’t even stop. It only stopped in Silver +Sands for flagging anyway unless there was somebody to +get off.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He sauntered into the drug store and bought a tooth +brush taking plenty of time in the selection, and the soda +clerk was relating a tale about the “jane who took two +chocolate fizzes and a banana split that afternoon. Some +red bird!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He dropped in at the fire house to ask the chief +if the first of the month would suit the fire company to +have their annual service in the church, and keeping his +ears open, gathered another straw or two more of evidence.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“An ankle like a square piano!” Uri Weldon was +saying with his coarse laugh.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I wonder she didn’t scare the birds!” said another. +“Some bathin’ suit fer a country walk!” Then the +front legs of the respective chairs came down reluctantly +and the men straightened up to greet Bannard gravely. +Everybody liked Bannard. There was nowhere in the +town he might not go, nowhere that he would be unwelcome. +Young though he was he had that Pauline trait +of being all things to all men, though it must be owned +that the men at the fire house were all just a trifle afraid +every time he came that he was somehow going to save +some of them, and take them away from all that life held +dear. They had no doubt in their minds but that he could +“save” them if he once got them in his clutches.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Slowly progressing up the street, stopping at Mrs. +Hoskins to enquire if her nephew in the city had received +the letter of introduction he had procured for him he +learned incidentally as he had thought he would, that +Athalie Greeves had passed there that afternoon about +half past four “in a scandalous rig,” had gone to the +drug store “and it’s the second time, Mr. Bannard, the +second time in two days, and all those young boys always +hanging around the drug store;” had gone on from the +drug store down the village street as far as she could see +from the gate and passed out of sight without returning.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“And I threw my apern over my head and ran out +to look,” added the good woman, showing that she always +did her duty by whoever passed, that nothing should be +missing out of the general report of the day.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“And I think her father ought to look after her better’n +that, don’t you Mr. Bannard? A young girl like that! +And a stranger in the town. Folks might misunderstand +her. Don’t you think it’s queer we never heard that he +had any daughters before?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Bannard finally reached Truman’s, but he had little to +tell Greeves about his daughter except that she had not +gone on either train to the city, and that she had been +seen walking down the village street, and had bought a +soda at the drug store.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I wouldn’t be in the least alarmed, though,” he +added in a low tone, “there really isn’t anything much +can happen in the town. They’re a friendly lot, even +the pryingest of them. She’ll probably turn up at home +before long.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Just at that moment the dining room door opened +and in came the next act of the charade that was in +progress, led by Silver who seemed to be the prime mover +in every feature of the evening. The girls simply surrounded +her and adored her from the start. Bannard +watched her and his eyes lit up with that strange wonder +he had felt when first he saw her the day before. A +wonderful girl! A real unspoiled girl in the modern +world. He thought of how she had gone into that sorrowing +home in the afternoon and entered into the need; +and now here she was the centre of all this merriment, +and just as much at home, and just as self forgetful.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>It was remarkable that part she was taking in the act, +playing her delicate features into the contortion of a +haughty woman of the world. She was talented! But +of course she would be. With such a father! And that +spirituelle look must have come from the mother. He +remembered the exquisite painted face.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Then eager voices claimed him to come and join the +group for the next word and he was drawn away to the +other room.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, have you heard how the baby is?” a low vibrant +voice asked as he passed her in the hall.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>So she hadn’t forgotten! She was in all this, a part +of it, but she had thoughts for the anxious home.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“She is holding her own,” he said, “I took Barry’s +mother down there a little while ago. She will stay all +night. You don’t know Barry’s mother yet. She is a +strong arm to lean upon, a cool hand on a fevered brow. +She knows how to do things without seeming to, and +she loves people.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, that is good!” said Silver, “tomorrow I will +go and take her place awhile if I may.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“It will not be necessary,” he said looking his thanks, +“but—you may if your father does not object.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Object?” she looked surprised. “Oh, he could not +object to that. Of course I will go.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The company clamored for Silver and she was swept +laughingly into the other room, but the minister felt that +somehow between them a bond had been established that +was very good to think upon. Only two days and he felt +this way about her! But she was an unusual girl. Then +he heard her ringing laugh, smiled into the eyes of the +boys who were pummelling him to tell them the best way +to act the word “penitentiary,” and plunged into the +matter before him.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>At half past ten they all went home, most of the company +being of high school age and not allowed late hours. +The half-past was a special dispensation on account of its +being Friday night and no lessons tomorrow. The minister +walked down the street with Greeves and his daughter +and stepped in a moment to learn if the prodigal had +returned, or if his further services as detective would +be required.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>They found Anne Truesdale sitting in the dark drawing +room watching the street. She would not have owned +to anybody, least of all her master, that she was praying +for “that huzzy” but she was. Somehow Anne’s sense +of justice wouldn’t allow her to let even a girl like that +be wandering alone in the world in the darkling night +without even a prayer to guide her. She deserved all she +might get but oh, think of the disgrace of it all in the +town. Anne didn’t know that she really cared more for +the disgrace in the town than she did for the young girl’s +soul in the dark.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>But there! See how all our motives are mixed! Anne +was praying for her! That was something gained. Anne +had begun to feel her responsibility, and leaven of that +kind always works. It may take time on a cold day, but +it always works at last.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>When the three discovered that the missing one was +still absent they stood and looked at one another in dismay, +with that helpless air that always says: “What +is there that I can do next?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Then sharply into the silence of their anxiety there +rippled out the insistent call of the telephone.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Greeves hurried into the library to answer it, and +the others stood breathless, listening, to his voice.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Hello!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>It was a man’s voice that answered:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I want to speak to Miss Athalie Greeves.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Who <span class='it'>is</span> this?” asked Athalie Greeves’ father sternly.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, who are <span class='it'>you</span>?” The voice was insolent.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I am Athalie’s father and I insist upon knowing to +whom I am speaking.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I’m one of her mother’s friends. You wouldn’t know +me. Call Athalie. She’ll tell you who I am. I want to +speak to her!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“It will be necessary for you to explain to me first.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Why? isn’t she there?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“What is your business with her, sir?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Is she there or not?” said the ugly voice.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“She is <span class='it'>not</span>,” said the father coldly.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, well, I’ll call up again!” said the voice, and +immediately the wire was cut off.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Patterson Greeves turned toward the two who stood +in the doorway and looked with a helpless dazed expression +for a moment, then hung up his receiver with a +troubled air.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“That is very strange!” he said. “Somehow I get +the impression that that man knew Athalie was away—or +was trying to find out—”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“It is strange,” said Bannard. He made no pretense +of not having heard. The voice on the telephone had been +loud enough to be heard out in the hall. “I wish Barry +were here. I’ll go out and look for him. If she isn’t heard +from by the time I get back we’ll begin to do something. +Don’t get frightened. It’s probably only some school-girl +prank. Barry will very likely be able to find out where +she has gone. He’s a regular ferret. I never saw a boy +like him.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Meantime Barry, out in the night, was having troubles +of his own.</p> + +<h2>XX</h2> + +<p class='pindent'>When Barry Lincoln left Sam in the side street with +the roadster and darted across the trolley track and around +the back of the stranger’s car, the big man with the heavy +moustache was visible in the brightly lighted drug store +talking with the clerk at the back of the store. He was +handing out some money and lighting a big black cigar +at the taper on the desk.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Barry drew himself up for one glimpse and saw that +the girl was now seated in the front, left hand, away from +the curb.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He swept the street either way with a quick glance, +saw no one coming in his immediate vicinity, gave another +glance to the man in the drug store and made a dash for +the door of the driver’s seat.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Barry had grown up as it were in the garage, that +is he had spent every available minute there since he was +a small child, hovering over every car that came within +its doorway, watching the men at work, as he grew older, +helping with the repairs himself, and finally becoming +so expert that they were always ready to give him a job on +Saturdays and half holidays, and often even sent for him +to help them discover what made the trouble in some +refractory engine or carburetor. There was no car rolling +that Barry didn’t know by name and sight, and wasn’t +able to describe its characteristics and comparative worth. +He was a judge of cars as some men are a judge of their +fellowmen. Also, he had a way with cars. When he +put his hand to a wheel it obeyed him. He was a perfect, +natural driver, knowing how to get the best out of every +piece of machinery.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>And now as he slid into the driver’s seat with the +owner only a few feet away, a strange unwarned girl +beside him, a strange unfriendly town around him, a +dark unknown way ahead, it was not a strange unknown +mechanism to which he put his hand. He had known that +car as a man recognizes his friend even when he was up +in the tree some hours before and saw it coming down +the road.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The girl was evidently startled, but Barry, his face +turned half away from her, threw in the clutch and was +off in a whirl.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Why Bobs! You scared me!” cried Athalie, “I +didn’t see you come out, I thought I was watching you +light a cigar. It must have been another man who looked +just like you. Did you get the chocolates? Hand them +over quick! I’m simply dying of starvation.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Barry began to fumble in his pocket silently with one +hand. He brought out a mobile package, half a cake of +milk chocolate and dropped it into her lap. His eye was +ahead. He had no time to waste. The owner of the car +would be out in a second and raise a rumpus. He whirled +the first corner he came to and fled down a dark side street, +passed two blocks, a third that went perceptibly down hill, +and darted into an old covered wooden bridge.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>It was pitch-dark in there save for their own lights. +The noise of the engine echoed and reverberated like an +infernal machine.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The girl was leaning forward looking at the package. +An instant more and they roared out of the bridge into +the quiet starlight.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Why, Bobs! I think you’re horrid! Was that all +you bought for me? And it’s not even a whole cake!” She +flung it disgustedly on the floor of the car and looked up +angrily. “Did you call that a <span class='it'>joke</span>?” she asked with a +curling lip, and then suddenly she saw his face, and was +transfixed with horror. For an instant she held her +breath, her eyes growing wider and wider with fright, +then she let out one of the most blood curdling screams +Barry had ever heard.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Just at that second there lumbered into view the lights +of a big gasoline truck that was hurrying to the end of its +long day’s journey. One instant they saw it, the next +they were in its very embrace. Barry curled out of the +road just in time and back into it again, while Athalie +screamed some more.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>They shot into a black road overarched with tall forest +trees. The smell of the new earth leaped up to Barry’s +taut senses with a soothing touch. The road as far as +his lights reached ahead was empty. His woodman’s +sense told him there was no one near. But how far in +the night had that scream reached? What straggler might +have heard it and sent a warning? There! She was +beginning it again! He must stop it somehow. A sudden +thought came to him. He groped in the pocket of the +door by his side. There ought to be one there, in a car +like this! A man of that sort would carry one. Yes, there +it was! His fingers grasped the cool metal, found their +way with confidence and drew it forth.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Bobs! Bobs!” screamed Athalie. The echoes rang +through the woods on either hand as they raced along. +She was leaving the trail behind them for any straggler +to report their whereabouts. This must not go on.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Suddenly the dull gleam of the revolver flashed in +front of her face.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Cut that out!” said the boy sternly.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie opened her mouth to scream again and instead +dropped her jaw just as the scream was about to be uttered. +She turned wide, horrified eyes to her captor and sat +white and still in her seat, cringing away from the weapon.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Now,” said Barry, still holding the revolver in one +hand, “you might as well understand that you aren’t in +any danger whatever if you keep your mouth shut, but if +you yodel again like that I’ll knock you cold. Do you +get me?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie’s eyes acknowledged that she understood. She +cringed still farther away from the revolver and he lowered +it, keeping it still in his hand however. The woods flew +by in one long sweet avenue of spring night. Barry settled +to his wheel, eyes to the front, with a mind to the back, +and a sort of sixth sense keeping tab on the girl by his +side. He could see that the revolver had frightened her terribly. +Her face was too much powdered to admit of its +turning pale, but there was a sagging droop about her +lips and eyelids that betokened her whole spirit stricken +with fear. She gathered her cloak closer about her and +shivered. Her big, dark eyes never left his face except +now and then to glance fearfully out as if wondering what +were the possibilities of jumping overboard. Barry began +to feel sorry for her.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Nothing but a little kid,” he said to himself, “A +foolish little kid!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Two miles farther on they turned into the high road +and Barry slowed down a bit. There were two cars ahead, +he could see their tail lights, but nothing coming behind. +He turned to the right in the general direction of Silver +Sands, and then looked at the girl.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“You needn’t be afraid,” he said half contemptuously, +half gently, “I’m not going to hurt you.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I’m not afraid,” said Athalie, some of the old +spirit returning.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh!” said the boy. “All right! I thought you +were!” They speeded on again in silence. Presently +Athalie spoke. Her voice showed returning temper.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“What are you going to do with me?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Going to take you home to your father!” +said Barry.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The young woman sat up suddenly. This then was +no highwayman. This was some meddler in her business. +He knew her father. He had somehow trailed her and +recognized her. She was furious.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“But I don’t choose to go home,” she said indignantly.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“That doesn’t cut any ice,” said Barry crisply. +“You’re getting there pretty fast all right.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie turned on him angrily.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Look here,” she said fiercely, “I’m not going to +stand this another minute. Do you know what a terrible +thing you’re doing? You’ll probably be put in prison +for life for it. But if you’ll turn right around now and +take me back to my friend I’ll tell him you just made a +mistake. You didn’t try to steal the car at all.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Thank you,” said Barry a grim shadow of a smile +flickering across his face in the darkness, “I’m not worrying +about that just now.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“But you’ve <span class='it'>got</span> to take me back,” said Athalie, almost +on the verge of tears, “I’m on my way to be <span class='it'>married</span>!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Not tonight!” said Barry grimly.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, I guess I’m not going to be stopped by a kid +like you!” burst forth Athalie. She suddenly rose with +all her might and flung herself upon the wheel, and Athalie +had some weight and grip when she chose to use them.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Barry, utterly unprepared for this onslaught, ground +on the brakes and put forth all his strength, trying to +keep the wavering car from climbing a tree while he +was bringing it to a standstill, but he managed to keep +his head.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>It was a sharp, brief struggle, for Athalie’s muscles +were untrained, and in a moment more Barry was holding +her firmly with both hands and she had ceased to struggle. +He had not again brought the revolver into play. He +hated dramatic effects when physical force would do +as well.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>But he could not stay there all night and hold her down. +He cast about for some way of making her fast. There +was a handkerchief in his pocket. He managed to get +hold of it and crossing her hands bind them together.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Her cloak had fallen off disclosing the flimsy dress +and the long fringed ends of a satin sash tied about her +waist. He pulled at it and found that it came loose. With +this he bound her about across the shoulders and down +to the waist.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“You’re cold!” he remarked as he saw her shiver, +“and that flimsy coat is no good. Here, put this +sweater on.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He pulled off his own sweater and pulled it down +over her head. She started to scream again, but he put +his hand over her mouth, and when she was quiet remarked +very gently:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I hate awfully to treat a girl this way, but I’ll have +to gag you if you try that line again,” and she knew by +his tone that he meant it. “I don’t think you’d like gagging.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie began to cry.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I’m sorry,” said Barry remorsefully, “but you can’t +be trusted.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He was down on his knees now fastening her ankles +together with a bit of old rope he had found in his pocket.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“But I’m on my way to be <span class='it'>married</span>,” sobbed out the +indignant child, “you’re spoiling my <span class='it'>life</span>—” she was weeping +uncontrollably now.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Excuse me,” he said quietly, “I guess I’ll have to +use my neck tie for a gag,” and he began unconcernedly +to take off his necktie. “I can’t have all this noise.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie stopped short.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I won’t cry,” she said shortly, “but won’t you just +listen to reason? Would you like it if you were going +to get married, to be interfered with this way?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Say kid,” he said gently, “you talk sense and I’ll +help you. You know you aren’t old enough to get married +yet. And I say, did you know what kind of a rotter +you were going off with?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie’s eyes fairly blazed.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“He’s nothing of the sort!” she retorted, “I’ve known +him for years. He’s perfectly darling! He’s my +mother’s friend.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Is that all?” said Barry witheringly. “I thought +you were going to say your grandmother’s.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I think you’re perfectly horrid!” said Athalie shrugging +what was left of her shoulders, and drawing as far +away from him as she could. “You think you’re smart!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Look here, kid! There’s no use your quarrelling +with the only friend you’ve got just now. I’m telling you +facts. Can’t you listen to reason? That man’s a rotter. I +know his kind. If he’s your mother’s friend so much the +worse. He knew he wasn’t doing the square thing taking a +kid like you off that way at night. What kind of a rep would +you have had, will you tell me, when you got back I’d +like to know?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I wasn’t coming back,” sobbed Athalie softly, “I +told you—I—was ggg-g-oing to be m-m-married!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Yes, in a pig’s eye you were! If that man ever married +you, kid I’d eat my hat. He hadn’t any more idea of +marrying you than I have, and that’s flat! This isn’t +a very nice way to talk to a girl I know, but when you won’t +listen to sense why you’ve gotta be shown.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“He was going to buy me—a—s-s-string of real +pearls!” wept Athalie suddenly remembering, “and we +were going to have a turkey dinner! I’m—ju-s-t—st-ar-r-r-ved!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Barry shrugged down behind his wheel disgustedly.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“You look as if you had meat enough on you to stand +it awhile!” he said contemptuously, “I thought you were +a girl, not a baby!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie held in the sob on a high note and surveyed +him angrily.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“You are the most—<span class='it'>disagreeable</span> boy!” she +vociferated.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I didn’t state my opinion of you yet. But you certainly +aren’t my idea of agreeable.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I didn’t ask you your opinion.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Say, look here,” said Barry, “let’s cut this out. This +isn’t getting us anywhere. What I want is for you to see +some sense before I get you home. Your father’s a kind +of a friend of mine and I’d hate like the deuce to have all +this get out about you in the town. You see, whatever +you think of this rotter you were going off with, the little +old town would know fast enough what he was, if any of +’em knew you were off in the night with him. You can’t +kid the town!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I haven’t the slightest desire to bother with your +little old town,” said Athalie loftily. “It may go to the +devil for all I care!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Barry was silent with disgust for a moment.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, if it does,” he said slowly, “it will carry you +on a pointed stick ahead of it, and like as not they’ll try +out the point of the stick on your father first. You can’t +kid the devil!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>There was a long pause. The night was very still. +They had not passed a car for some time. The lights +in the sleeping villages in the valley below them were +nearly all gone out; moist, dank air rushed up in wreaths +and struck them lightly in the face as they passed. The +sudden breath of an apricot tree in bloom drenched the +darkness. Over in the east toward which they were hastening +a silver light was lifting beyond the horizon and in +reflection a little thread of a river leaped out from the +darkness where it had been sleeping in winding curves +among the dark of plumy willows.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I <span class='it'>hate</span> you!” said Athalie suddenly. “You called +me names! You’re a vulgar boy!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“What names did I call you kid?” Barry’s voice +was gentle.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“You called me fat in a very coarse way!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, you’re not exactly emaciated, are you?” He +gave her a friendly grin in the darkness.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I hate you!” reiterated Athalie again, “and I want +to get out and walk!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Anything to please you!” said Barry quickly bringing +the car to a full stop and reaching over to throw open +the door by her side.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie was surprised to be taken so literally, but she +made an instant move to get out, and then realizing that +her ankles were tied she subsided again.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, excuse me,” said Barry and stooping unfastened +the cord on her ankles, and sat back again.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Are you going to untie my hands?” she asked imperiously.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, no, I guess not,” said Barry easily, “you don’t +walk on your hands do you?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>She cast him a furious look and bounced out of the +car, walking off very rapidly down the road with her +shoulders stiff and indignant.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Barry sat back and watched her. She went on swiftly +till she came to the bend of the road, and then she looked +back half fearfully. The car was still and dark as if Barry +had settled for a nap. The road ahead wound into a +dark wood, and the trees were casting weird shadows +across the roadway. But no one should call her bluff. She +would go on and show him. She stumbled forward on +her little high heeled slippers almost falling as she ran +fearfully toward the darkness of the wooded road. Then +suddenly on her horrified senses came the distant sound +of a motor in the opposite direction and a long thin forecasting +of light shot out with a blind glare ahead. Another +car was coming! And it was away in the nighttime! And +she alone on the road with her arms tied! Horrible fear +seized upon her and rooted her to the ground. Then with +a mighty effort she gathered her ebbing strength and +turning fled.</p> + +<h2>XXI</h2> + +<p class='pindent'>In the first rod her right slipper flew off and lay at the +side of the road but she waited not for slippers. Her +silken clad foot went over the rough stony highway with +the fleetness of a rabbit. She darted to the side of the +car and panted:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Let me get in, quick! Quick! There’s another +car coming!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Barry leaned over and pulled her up, cast a quick +glance to the oncoming lights, started his motor and +dashed along at full speed just in time to pass swiftly as +if he had come from a distance, and then when the passing +car was out of sight remarked pleasantly:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Have a nice walk?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Don’t!” said Athalie shuddering. He looked at her +furtively. The tears were coursing down her cheeks but +she was not making any sound.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Look here, kid, I’m sorry!” he said pleasantly, “let’s +call this off. You’re all in! And say! I’m going to +untie your hands. I know I can trust you not to make +any more trouble. We’re almost home now kid. Only +a matter of about four miles, and we’ll run through the +town as still as oil and get you home and nobody any the +wiser. But before we get there you’ve got to make a contract +to can that rotter or I’ll have to make a clean breast +of the whole thing to your father, how you phoned to him, +and how you met him in the woods, and what he said to +you and all—”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie turned an amazed face toward him now, +smeared with powder and tears, and lit by the newly +risen moon.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“You know—?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Yep! Know it all! Saw you climb out your window +and go to the drug store. Was in the next booth +and heard every word you phoned. Wasn’t ten feet away +from you in the woods. I tell you, you can’t kid this town.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie looked aghast.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“No, you don’t need to worry. Nobody else knows +yet, and I don’t intend they shall if you agree to can that +man. Is it a bargain?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>There was a long pause, during which Athalie sniffed +quietly, then she murmured:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“My father—he’ll half kill me—”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“No, he won’t! He’ll be much more likely to kill +the man. But perhaps we can fix that up too. You leave +it to me. Now, lean over here and let’s get those knots +untied.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I didn’t say I would yet!” said Athalie with a catch +of rebellion in her breath.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“No, but you’re going to,” said Barry pleasantly, +“you’re not yella.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Barry worked away with the satin sash talking +meanwhile.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Say, kid, you know you’ll forget all this when you +get acquainted in town and begin to have good times. +What you need is to get into high school and play basket +ball. You’d need to train down a little of course, but you’d +make a great player. I watched you as you went up the +road, and you’ve got the build all right. Say, some of +the girls on our team are peachy players, but you could +beat ’em all at it if you’d try. If I was you I’d begin to +train down tomorra. Cut out those sundaes and sodas, +and chocolates, and don’t be everlastingly eating cake and +fudge. You’ll never make a player unless you reduce—”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>It was surprising how their attitudes toward one +another had changed. Athalie wiped up her smeary face, +and began to take an interest in life. She even smiled once +at a joke Barry made about the moon. She was rather quiet +and almost humble.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Barry grew almost voluble. He described in detail +several notable athletic features of the past that had put +their high school in a class with several large prep schools +in the state. He opened out on the prospects for the season’s +baseball games admitting reluctantly on enquiry that +he was their nine’s captain and coach.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Suddenly the brow of the hill they were climbing was +reached and there before them lay the plain of Silver +Sands, with the belching chimneys of Frogtown glaring +against the night, and off to the left the steeple of the +Presbyterian church shining in the moonlight. It was +very still down there where the houses slept, and the few +drowsy lights kept vigil. Barry cast it a loyal glance and +brought the car to a standstill.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Look, kid,” he said with something commanding in +his young voice, “that’s our town, down there! Doesn’t +she look great with her feet to the river and her head +on the hills? She’s a crackerjack little old town if you +treat her right, and no mistake. See that white spot over +there behind the trees? That’s the pillars on the old +Silver house. It’s a prince of a house, and the people +that lived in it have always been princes. My mother says +the whole country round has always looked up to the +Silvers. They’ve always been <span class='it'>real</span>! Do you get me? It’s +a great thing to belong to a family like that!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie turned her large eyes on him wonderingly and +suddenly some of her father’s sentences of the morning +came to her, sentences about gentlemen and ladies, and +respectable standards, and their meaning went home on +the shaft of Barry’s simple arrow.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Barry was never one to explain a joke or a sermon. +He let it rest and passed to another line of thought.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“We’re going around on the beach road,” explained +Barry, “and come in the lane just below your house. We’ll +stop at Aunt Katie’s where the minister boards and slip +through the back hedge. Then there won’t be a whole +lot for anyone to see and hear. Anybody might drive +up to the minister’s door any time of night and nobody +think anything of it. If Aunt Katie sees us she’ll keep +her mouth shut. She’s a peach, she is. If you ever need +a friend, tie up to her, kid. Now, before we go on I’ll +trouble you for the name and address of that rotter!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“What are you going to do?” asked Athalie in an +alarmed voice.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Got to return this car haven’t I?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, why yes, I suppose so. But—he’ll be awfully +angry! You might get arrested you know!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Watch me!” said Barry lightly. “Now I’ll trouble +you for that address.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I don’t remember the address,” said Athalie, “I +went there in a taxicab. It’s somewhere in a big apartment +house. I got it out of the telephone book.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“What’s his name then? You haven’t forgotten that +have you?” asked Barry eyeing her suspiciously. “Is +Bobs the first or last part of it?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie cast a startled glance at him.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Farrell, Robert Farrell,” she answered meekly.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“That’s all right,” said Barry. “I’ll look him up.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Barry started the car again and they were silent as +they sped along for some minutes. Then Athalie asked +in a scared voice:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“What are you going to tell my father?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Nothing much unless I have too,” said Barry easily, +“if you can that man he doesn’t need to know anything +about it, but if I find you haven’t played square he’ll know +the whole thing in about three minutes. It’s entirely up +to you.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie looked frightened.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I won’t phone to him any more—nor write to him!” +she said at length, “but I can’t be sure what he’ll do.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I don’t think he’ll bother you any more after I get +through with him,” said Barry airily.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie cast him another frightened glance.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“You’d better be careful—” she warned. “He’s got +an awful temper.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“So I should judge,” said Barry, “I’m glad you’re +out of his clutches.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The car slid along the Silver beach quietly as fine machinery +can be made to go. Past the belching furnaces with +the night shift in sleeveless shirts moving picturesquely past +the light in the rosy dusk of the big structures; past the +ruins of the pickle factory, and the darkened windows +of the rows of little houses; past the house with the lighted +upper window where little Mary and Barry’s mother +struggled with death the long hours through, and the +stricken father and mother knelt each side of the bed and +prayed; past the darkened cannery and the silk factory, +and the buildings of the Sand Company, across the side +tracks and the railroad; over the bridge that spanned a +small tributary stream; and winding the back way into +Silver Sands, down Sweetbriar lane to Aunt Katie’s door.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>There was a light in Aunt Katie’s upper front window +as Barry helped Athalie out of the car. Barry looked +up as they passed in the gate and gave a soft, low whistle +like the chirp of a bird. But it was Aunt Katie’s voice, +not the minister’s, that spoke in a low tone from an open +side window:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Is that you Barry?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Sure,” growled Barry cheerfully.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, you have found her!” said the voice again, “I +am <span class='it'>glad</span>!” and there was something so vibrant and pleased +about it that it thrilled Athalie. No one had ever been +glad like that about her before. She had always been +considered a nuisance, something to be appeased and +gotten rid of as quickly as possible. She warmed to a +voice like that and looked up wistfully. It almost seemed +to her that she ought to say thank you. She had scarcely +ever felt that thanking impulse before in all her wild +young life.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Sure I found her!” said Barry. “Mist’r Bannard +over t’th’house?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Why, yes, he’s just gone back again. He said he +and Mr. Greeves were going to the city to hunt for her. +You better hurry.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Aw’right. G’night!” and Barry led the way rapidly +round the side porch, down through the garden and over +the back fence. Athalie was stumbling painfully along +the plowed ground with one little high heeled slipper and +one silken clad sorry foot. As she struggled up on the +fence Barry saw it.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Say, kid, when did you lose your shoe?” he asked +solicitously.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Up there on the road when I was running,” said +the girl with a catch in her breath and looking up he saw +that she was suffering and that there were tears on her face.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“You poor kid!” he said gently, and stooping, picked +her up and carried her all the way up through the garden, +to the brick terrace at the back hall door. There he set +her down gently, and tapped at the door.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I wonder what time it is by moonlight,” he said +glancing down at the sun-dial. “It must be a good piece +into tomorrow already. My time piece got kicked across +the room the other day by mistake so I have to get along +without it.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie stood shivering, a sorry little figure in her +tattered scarlet draperies, with her smeary face, her hat +jammed over one ear, and one torn silk stocking, but a +faint semblance of a wistful smile went over her face +as she watched the nice big boy beside her. How strong +he had been, and how tender! It gave her that thanking +feeling again. How strange! And yet how like a ruffian he +had treated her out on the road and made her come home! +Her mingled feelings held in check by the very salutary +possibility that she was about to meet with a well deserved +punishment from the stranger-parent inside the door were +overwhelming enough without any addition. But when +hurrying footsteps came down the hall, and Anne +Truesdale’s face red with weeping appeared as she opened +the door, Athalie suddenly remembered her exit from the +house that afternoon and realized that there were many +scores for her to settle, and shrank back behind +her protector.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Greeves and Bannard came quickly down the hall, and +at the top of the stairs there was a soft stirring and the +flutter of a blue bath robe as Silver leaned over the banister +by her door to listen.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Barry stepped within and lifted his old cap respectfully. +He was in his shirt sleeves and his face looked tired and +haggard but with a cheerful grin.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“She got lost, Mr. Greeves and took the wrong road. +I happened along and brought her back. Sorry we had +to be so late, but it was a good piece away. She’s about +all in so you better put her to bed. No thanks, I can’t stay. +I got a borrowed car over in the lane I gotta return. Oh, +well, I don’t care if I do have some cookies.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>They plied him with plates of cake and cups of coffee +and took the attention entirely away from Athalie, and +the girl thankfully slipped upstairs. Then she remembered +the sweater she was still wearing, and slipped it off quickly, +paused to put on another shoe that lay in her way, flung +her cloak about her and stole down again.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>She had almost a shy look on her face as she brought +the sweater over to where Barry stood by the dining room +table swallowing down hot coffee and talking to the minister +about the baseball prospects.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Both the minister and Greeves looked at her in surprise. +Somehow, with the paint washed off, even in dirty +streaks she looked more human, and less bold and bizarre.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Barry looked up with one of his brilliant smiles that +he gave rarely, and took the sweater.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I’m afraid you were cold!” said Athalie most unexpectedly +to herself. It hadn’t occurred to her to think +of anyone but herself until that instant.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, that’s all right, kid!” he said setting down his +coffee cup and struggling into his sweater with a couple +of motions, “glad I had it along. Hope you feel all right +in the morning.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie retired feeling for perhaps the first time in +her life that she was forgiven and given another chance. +Somehow all her escapades up to this time, with nurses, +governesses, teachers, and parents, had ended in enmity and +a bitter feeling of spite. She went upstairs slowly wondering +what it was about this boy that made her feel like +a happy little child. She ought to hate him. To be planning +some way to get it back on him. He had baffled her +and ruled her as no one had ever done before, and he +was only a kid like herself, and yet she had a sort of +awe for him, an interest in him, a pleasure in his smile. +She took off her red tatters pondering this, forgetful +entirely of her bridegroom that was to have been.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>While Barry was stowing away the sandwiches and +cake and coffee that Anne Truesdale seemed always to be +able to produce without a moment’s warning, Greeves and +Bannard withdrew to the hall. The father looked worn +and haggard. He cast an anxious eye up the stairs and +said in a low voice:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Bannard I can’t thank you enough for sticking by +through this. It seems strange but this is getting me worse +than anything that has ever come to me. I need some +advice. I need some help. How on earth am I ever to +teach that unruly child!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“You need God, Greeves! I mean it! Kneel down +and pray. That will do you more good than any advice +that anyone could possibly give you.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Don’t get on your hobby again tonight Bannard. I’m +in no mood for trifling. I’ve got to give that girl some +kind of a lesson—”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“She looked to me as if she had learned her lesson +pretty thoroughly,” said Bannard. “I wonder where Barry +found her. I thought he must be out on one of his specials. +That boy certainly is a wonder!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Yes, I am deeply grateful. What are his circumstances? +Can I reward him?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Give him your friendship. That’s all he would ever +take. He’s proud as Lucifer, but he’s loving as they +make ’em.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Yes, I liked him the first time I met him. I’d like +to know more about where he found her.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, perhaps she’ll tell you. I doubt if he ever +will. He’s a man of few words, where it concerns anything +he has done. But I wasn’t trifling, Greeves, I meant +what I said. There is nothing in the wide universe would +open up this situation and show you the right way like +getting down on your knees and getting back to God, and +when you get there that ‘tomorrow’ I was telling you +about will be about to dawn.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Ready Barry? I’ll walk along with you. Good night +Greeves. I’m glad your vigil is at an end!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>They went out the terrace door and walked silently +down the garden, two dark shadows among the growing +things. Even if Lizette Weldon had been wakeful she +would not have noticed them for the hedge was tall and +they kept close in its shadow.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Silently the two, as those who understand one another, +passed over the fence and through Aunt Katie’s little +garden, around the side of the house to the front gate.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Anything I need to know, Partner?” asked Bannard +affectionately.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Barry considered.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I guess not tonight, sir.” He looked up with a +smile.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Have to go far with that car?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Quite a piece.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Your mother is down at the Flats with a sick child +tonight.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Aw’right! I’ll be back before she is. G’night!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Barry slid into the car noiselessly, and as quietly as a +car can go that one backed out of the lane to the beachway, +and sped away into the night. He did not immediately +take to the city highway however. There was something +he had to do first. About an hour later he turned into +the highway a mile or so above Silver Sands and made +high speed to the city. In his hip pocket under his sweater +reposed a muddy little slipper.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The minister had slipped into his door and extinguished +the light at once going softly upstairs in the dark. From +behind Aunt Katie’s door there came a question:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Was it all right?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“All right Aunt Katie. Your prayers brought us +through!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>About half an hour later Lizette who had fallen asleep +on watch woke up and scanned both her windows, but +neither Aunt Katie’s nor the Silver mansion showed any +signs of light, yet she had been sure she heard an automobile +somewhere in her dreams. For Anne Truesdale +faithful even to a “daring huzzy” prepared a hot bath +for Athalie, and a tray of good things for her to eat, but +she had been careful to hang a black shawl behind the +drawn shade of the window looking toward the +Weldon house.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The eastern sky was paling into dawn as Barry drove +into the outskirts of the city and began his search for an +open telephone station. He found presently an obscure +little hotel, and had no trouble in discovering Robert +Farrell’s name. He purchased a sheet of paper and an +envelope and standing by the desk wrote a brief and +characteristic letter:</p> + +<div class='blockquote'> + +<p class='line' style='text-align:left;margin-left:0em;'>“Mr. Robert Farrell,</p> +<p class='line' style='text-align:left;margin-left:2em;'>Redwood Apartments,</p> +<p class='line'> </p> + +<p class='pindent'>Dear sir:—This is to notify you that you are not +to have any further communication with Miss Greeves. +The police force of Silver county is onto you, and is watching +every move you make, and if the investigation of your +past that is being made brings any further criminal developments +we will make Silver County too hot to hold you. +If this warning of the police of Silver Sands is not obeyed, +Mr. Greeves will stop at nothing to prosecute you to the +limit. Signed, B. Link, member of police force, Silver +Sands.”</p> + +</div> + +<p class='pindent'>With this letter duly addressed and sealed Barry took +his way to the Redwood Apartments and rang up the +man in Farrell’s apartment. To him, when he finally +appeared yawning, Barry handed over the letter and the +car and touching his hat politely disappeared, running like +a deer to the station as soon as he had passed the corner, +and arriving just in time to catch the milk train for +Silver Sands.</p> + +<h2>XXII</h2> + +<p class='pindent'>“The only possible condition under which you are +free to remain in this town and in my house is that you +hereafter conduct yourself as a lady in every way!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>This was the ultimatum which Patterson Greeves after +a night of vigil flung out upon his subdued and waiting +daughter sometime along in the middle of the morning +when she chose to come down to a languid breakfast.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Silver had gone early to the Flats with the minister +and Anne Truesdale was out doing marketing. They +had the house to themselves. The father girded up his +soul and went to the task before him. It had to come +sooner or later.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie regarded him composedly for a moment +before responding:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well,” said she, “with Lilla on the high seas, and +my money mostly gone I suppose I’ll have to make a try. +I won’t go to school. What is it you want me to do? +Go to church and Sunday school?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Now nothing was farther from Patterson Greeves’ +intention than to attend divine service of any sort or to +make his family do so, but in that instant it flashed across +his consciousness that that was the very thing that would +have to be done if Athalie was to remain in the town +and live as a member of the old Silver family should, +in good and regular standing. Athalie could not associate +with the young people of the town and expect to be comfortable +among them unless she did as they did, unless +she did as the traditions of the family laid down. For +himself he would probably have ignored what people +thought and have shut himself in with his books and his +few friends and let the town go hang. But here he was +preaching the standard of his old family and insisting upon +its being kept high, and in his heart not planning to do so +himself. He saw the inconsistency at once, and knew also +that the thing she had suggested was the very influence +that would readjust her abnormal young soul, if anything +could do it. If religion was good for anything it ought +to be good for that. In fact, there was somewhere hid +away in his own soul the belief not yet extinct that religion +did do things to souls when it really got a chance! Also, +there was Bannard. He had some sense if he was a +minister. She wouldn’t likely get much nonsense hearing +him. And there was Silver! Of course Silver would +want to go to church. Somehow he shrank from letting +Silver know how far he had strayed from the religion +of her mother, and her mother’s people. All this passed +through his mind in the lifting of an eye. He was accustomed +to control his face and cover it with a mask among +men. He scarcely seemed to hesitate as he replied:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Yes. Certainly. Of course you will go to church +and Sunday school.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, heck!” said Athalie, a kind of hunted look coming +into her eyes as she flounced around and stared out +of the window.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Greeves watched her painfully trying to adjust his own +thoughts to this unexpected turn. He would have to go +to church himself probably to enforce this. He felt like reechoing +her exclamation. What was he letting himself +in for? Well, if it got too strenuous he could always send +her away to camp when he found the right place. Then +too, he would have to be courteous to Bannard. He had +been awfully decent last night, knowing just the thing +to be done, and not making a great fuss about it as some +would have done, and making every thing public. Yes, +of course he would have to go to church occasionally. +Tomorrow was the Sabbath. He would have to go then +to start things right. Then after that perhaps he could +manage to be away a good deal Sundays, run down to the +shore or make a visit to New York or Boston—any excuse +would do. He would have to go a good deal anyway to +consult libraries.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well,” said Athalie as suddenly whirling back as +she had turned away. “What else? I’m game.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Her fixed gaze was rather disconcerting. He couldn’t +help admiring the way she took it. There was something +rather interesting about her in spite of all her devilishness. +Where did she get that?</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“There are three things that I shall require,” he said +following out the plan he had evolved during the night. +Poor soul, he had gone such a little way in this matter +of fatherhood and discipline. He thought it could all +be enumerated under three heads.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie watched him attentively.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Obedience—”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie winced.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Who do I have to obey? Not that red-faced servant +woman! Not that other girl!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Her father faltered.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Because I <span class='it'>won’t</span>! That’s <span class='it'>flat</span>!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“They would come under the next head,” temporized +Patterson Greeves, “which is courtesy.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, you mean I’ve got to be <span class='it'>polite</span>! All right. I +suppose I can. What next?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Modesty!” finished the father with a sudden realization +that his list was pitifully short and she was dismissing +them all and making them shorter.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, what do you mean by that?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I mean that I do not like the way you dress nor +behave. You constantly call attention to yourself, to your +person. It is probably not your fault that you are somewhat +stout, although I have understood there are diets +that will regulate that sort of thing, but it is your fault +when you dress in loud and noticeable colors and strange +styles, or when you expose your flesh to view.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie’s brow drew down.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>She glanced down at her dashing little blouse of orange +crochet over a flannel skirt of orange and black stripes. +Her plump pink arms showed through the knitted mesh, +and the brilliant neckerchief she was wearing jauntily +across one shoulder revealed much fat neck. A flush of +disappointment rolled up her carefully unpowdered cheek. +She had really tried to look pleasing for that interview. +According to her standard she looked nice.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I’ve worn the only things I had,” she said sullenly. +“I’m sure I don’t know how to please you.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Something in the wistfulness of her tone appealed to +him. He cast about how to answer her.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Suppose you go up and spread out what you have +and I’ll come and look at your things. If you haven’t got +the proper clothes we’ll have to go and buy some.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>A glint of interest shone in Athalie’s eyes.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I’ll go up and spread them out,” she said eagerly, “it +won’t take me long. There’s really some quite spiffy ones.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He almost groaned aloud as she disappeared like a +bright, saucy butterfly. How was he to make her understand +that it was their very “spiffiness” that made +the trouble.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>In a few minutes he heard her calling, and he goaded +himself up the stairs trying to prepare to be very diplomatic +and gentle and firm.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie stood by the door her face radiant and behind +her on the bed lay shining masses of silks and satins and +velvets in gaudy array and all around the room were +hangers on which hung limp effigies of herself done in all +colors of the rainbow, the vintage of Lilla’s cast off frocks, +made over for her neglected daughter.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie led him around the room beginning with what +she considered the sober ones, and going on to the more +dressy affairs. He went from one to the other with growing +bewilderment and pain, and when he had finished he +stood back in dismay and began at the beginning again. +He could not find one thing that filled his idea of what +a young girl should wear. Once he thought he had discovered +it in a simple looking brown affair with a gleam +of brilliant green which Athalie had hung behind the door +as if she had forgotten it or did not want it inspected +because it was too dull. He took the hanger down and +began to examine it.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Now this,” he said with a tone of growing satisfaction, +and picking up a corner of the long tunic that was +bound in tailored fashion, “this seems—why, what is +this? Trousers?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Yes, those are the knickerbockers,” said Athalie, “I +used to like that a lot but I’m sort of tired of it. However, +if you like it I’ll put it on. I thought maybe—but I’ll put +it on!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>She seized the hanger and slipped into the bathroom, +returning in a brief space with the garment on. Patterson +Greeves drew a long breath. She seemed to be clothed +properly for the first time. The lines were straight, the +color was dark, her form did not appear so sensuous.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Now that—” he began, “step out from behind the +bed and let me see.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie stepped out and walked.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Why, what is that? Is it torn? Is it ripped? Why +how short it is!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“No, those are open all the way up to the waist. That +is the knickerbockers underneath. Haven’t you been used +to the knickerbocker suits? They’re all the craze at school. +I had one of the first that came out. I just made Lilla get +it, or rather I bought it myself and sent the bill to her and +told her I’d tell a friend of hers something she didn’t want +told if she didn’t pay it—”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie’s tongue was rattling on eagerly, but Athalie’s +father was sick at heart. As she strode about the room, +whirling in front of the long mirror on the old-fashioned +bureau, her stout legs were revealed clad in green trousers +which finished in a tailored cuff below the knee and fully +eight inches above this brown tunic flopped and flared, making +her a grotesque figure, neither man nor maid. A fashion +that might have been tolerated or even fancied on a +slender little child, but was revolting on a girl of Athalie’s +age and build.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Take it off,” ordered the discouraged parent. +“Haven’t you anything decent at all?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie stopped dismayed and retreated half frightened +into the other room. When she came out again she was +wearing the little yellow dress and she looked lonesome +and unhappy.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Her father wheeled about from the window where +he had been looking unseeingly into the garden—it was +strange how the only relief from things sometimes is to +look out of the window and get a wider vision—and eyed +her perplexedly.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“We’ll have to go to town and do some shopping. I +think it would be best to take your sister along—”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“She’s <span class='it'>not</span> my sister! And I won’t go if you take +her! I thought you understood that!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“That’s not obedience, Athalie!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The girl looked down stormily.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, then if you force her on me I won’t obey. I +don’t see why you want her along. She can’t pick out +my clothes! I wouldn’t wear a rag she selected. You +ask her if she would like what I chose for her.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The father reflected that that was probably true. Silver +would certainly not look right in any of Athalie’s clothes.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, then we’ll take the housekeeper,” he temporized.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“That frumpy thing!” said Athalie.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, who would you suggest?” He looked desperately +at his daughter and wondered why a creature of so +young an age should be able to perpetrate so much trouble +and get away with it.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie dimpled into a charming smile.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I don’t see why you and I couldn’t go just together. +It’s you that’s to be suited, isn’t it? And me that’s to do +the wearing? Well, then, what has anybody else to do +with it.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I’m not at all certain that I—”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, if you don’t know what you want—” began +Athalie with a toss of her head.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Very well,” said her father, with swift decision, +“get ready at once. I’ll phone for a car. Can you be +ready in half an hour?” he looked at his watch.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Yes,” she said brightly, casting a selective eye around +her wardrobe.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“But what will you wear?” he asked uneasily looking +around also trying to find something that would do. “I +don’t see anything here that is suitable.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie pouted.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Perhaps we’d better wait and I’ll telephone for something +to be sent out on approval, a blue serge suit or +something,” he suggested helplessly.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie darkened.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I’ve got an old tweed thing in the trunk. I hate it +but maybe you’d like it.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Let me see it.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>She pawed in her trunk a moment and fished out a +brown tweed coat and skirt. He took it up and examined +it, his face clearing.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Now, that’s what I call a nice neat, sensible dress +for a girl,” he said. “Is it all whole? There aren’t any +slits or anything in it? Well, put that on, and some kind +of a hat that doesn’t look too fast, and dark stockings and +gloves. And—Athalie, wash your face! <span class='it'>Wash</span> it I mean!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie waited until he had closed the door and then +she looked her thought of him behind his back in a very +forceful expression. Having thus unburdened her soul +she set about making a hasty toilet and when she came down +stairs seemed to him quite presentable in her trim brown +coat and skirt. The skirt was more abbreviated both horizontally +and perpendicularly than he would have desired, +but it would have to do for the present, and she wore a +small, neat hat of brown straw from which she had just +extracted some kind of an ornament in feathers that +resembled a burning bush. It was drawn down over her +forehead till she looked quite demure, and her feet were +quietly encased in brown stockings and tan oxfords with +low heels and rubber soles. She wore gloves and her whole +aspect seemed to have changed. Looking on her now her +father wondered perhaps if it might not be possible sometime +to even—well—rather like her.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>That morning’s shopping was an experience Patterson +Greeves will never be likely to forget. He felt as if he +were leading a wild young coyote by a chain, which might +at any moment give way in his hand and let chaos loose +in the stores. The number of things that Athalie picked +out and her father disapproved were too numerous to +mention. Sometimes they found a saleswoman who sided +with the girl and took it upon herself to advise the father, +and then Greeves went to another store. Again they fell +to the hands of a prim, sharp woman with a false front +who called Athalie “dearie” and patronized her, and the +girl simply refused to try on or look at a thing under +her guidance.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>In his pocket Patterson Greeves carried a brief memorandum +the result of a secret interview with Anne +Truesdale, which he from time to time consulted anxiously +as if it were a talisman that would somehow guide him +through the mazes of this expedition. It read:</p> + +<div class='literal-container' style=''><div class='literal'> <!-- rend=';' --> +<p class='line'>“Four or five stout gingham dresses for school.</p> +<p class='line'>Two sprigged muslins for afternoons.</p> +<p class='line'>A nice white dress for evening socials.</p> +<p class='line'>A dark blue silk for best.</p> +<p class='line'>Two serviceable blue serges made sailor style.”</p> +</div></div> <!-- end rend --> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie had two methods. One was to go into ecstacies +over something she liked, talk about its simplicity, and its +classic lines, and how sweet and quiet it was. The other +was to walk off out of the department entirely and be found +looking drearily out of a window when she saw her father’s +eye on something that did not interest her.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>On the whole she worked things pretty well, and came +off with four wash silks, which by the aid of the saleswoman +she had persuaded her father were now taking the +place of ginghams; several crêpe de chines, a couple of +handkerchief linens, and a one-piece serge that cost twice +as much as any dress she had ever owned before. If she +was going to have to be severe and plain, by all means let +it be the severity of elegant simplicity. After a sumptuous +repast at an irreproachable tea room at which she ordered +everything on the menu that took her fancy from lobster +salad to café frappé she carried her exhausted parent home +triumphantly and spent the afternoon making little alterations +in her purchases. He had selected them himself, +hadn’t he? Well, then he couldn’t possibly find fault with +anything about them. He would never know what she +had done to them.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Life settled down quietly. Patterson Greeves got out +some of his notes and began to put his papers away in the +desk. Silver had sent word that she was spending the +day at the Flats. There was nothing to hurt or annoy. +He reflected that both Lizette Weldon and several of the +Vandemeeters had been in evidence at their front windows +or gates when he and Athalie had driven away and again +when they returned. Surely Athalie’s escapade would +be forgotten if all went on in the conventional manner. +Surely he might relax a little now.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>From the region of the kitchen there floated from time +to time spicy suggestive odors.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>And the next day was the Sabbath.</p> + +<h2>XXIII</h2> + +<p class='pindent'>Mary Truman called for Athalie Greeves to take her +to Sunday school.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>She did not want to go. She had told all the girls +at the school picnic the day before that she didn’t intend +to do it. She had cried for two hours and begged both +father and mother to let her off, but they had insisted, +and so with her neat blue serge suit and her blue straw +sailor, her hair tied with a fresh ribbon, and her hands +and feet encased in simple girlish fittings, she reluctantly +swung the Greeves’ gate open and slowly made her way +up the path.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>It was early. The first bell had only begun to ring. +Mrs. Truman had insisted that she must give the stranger +plenty of time to get ready. She had also, unknown to her +daughter, telephoned Mr. Greeves that Mary was coming.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Patterson Greeves, having come down to breakfast +in much better frame of mind than since he had returned +to Silver Sands, had forgotten entirely, that it was the +Sabbath day or that there was such a thing as Sabbath +school to be dealt with. Indeed, left to himself he might +have been persuaded to forget it altogether for this time, +but when Mrs. Truman offered an escort he jumped at +it eagerly, and Athalie heard herself promised as a new +scholar in the class with “that frumpy little Truman girl.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>However, Athalie was going to be a good sport. When +her father turned from the telephone and informed her +that she must get ready for Sunday school she looked up +with just a flicker of a gasp and stared, but that was all. +Quite like a lady she arose from the table and went to +her room. When she came down dressed in her brown +tweed suit, gloves, hat, and shoes as she had dressed the +day before for her trip to the city her father looked her +over almost with approval and when he saw her go down +the path beside Mary Truman he sighed with relief. Perhaps +she was going to be amenable to reason after all.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Mindful of her triple promise to her father Athalie +was quite polite, but in a lofty way, like a lion condescending +to walk with a lamb.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“So kind of you to come for me,” she said haughtily, +“I never went to Sunday school before in my life. What +do they do?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“You—never went—to <span class='it'>Sunday school</span>!” Mary paused +in horrified astonishment. “Why! Where have you +lived? Didn’t they <span class='it'>have</span> any Sunday school?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Why, I really don’t know. I never enquired. Perhaps +they had, but nobody said anything about it. I’m +curious to see it! Is it as dull as day school?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, day school isn’t dull! We have lovely times. Silver +Sands is said to have the best school in Silver County. +We have the darlingest teachers! And debating society! +And contests, and athletics! Oh, it’s great! I feel dreadfully +when I’m sick and have to miss a day. I haven’t +missed a day now in two years, not since I had the measles.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Dear me!” said Athalie. “I should think you’d +be bored to death! Do all those girls you brought to see +me go to Sunday school?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, yes, of course. Everybody goes to Sunday +school in Silver Sands. Most of them go to our church. +Only Emily Bragg, she’s a Methodist, but they have a +nice Sunday school too, only not so large. I was allowed +to go with her once when she was going to speak on +Children’s Day. We have a lovely teacher. Her name’s +Pristina Appleby. She lives right across the street from +you. She tells us very interesting things about the pyramids +and the tablets they’ve dug up and things like that +you know. Sometimes she brings us pictures to help understand +the lesson.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Lesson? Do you have lessons? Mercy! I hate +lessons.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, you won’t hate this,” laughed Mary, “she just +talks. We call her Miss Prissie!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh! And this Miss Pussy! Is she an old maid?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Miss <span class='it'>Prissie</span> I said. No, oh no, she isn’t an old maid. +Her aunts are that. She has three aunts and a grandmother +and a great grandmother and they all live together in that +brick house across the street from you.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh! I hadn’t noticed. Then she’s a young girl.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, not exactly young. She’s not as young as your +sister. I think <span class='it'>she’s</span> lovely. We girls are all crazy about her. +I’m so sorry you couldn’t have come to the fudge party +the other night. We had such fun. Your sister was +wonderful! She started all the games—”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie’s face darkened but she kept her stiffly polite +manner, a trifle more haughty perhaps.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Yes, it was a pity!” she drawled. “Is this your +church? What are they ringing that bell for?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Why for Sunday school.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh! I thought somebody might be dead! I’ve read +of that! You never can tell what curious thing they may +do in a strange place you know.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Mary started to giggle and then looked at her questioningly +and grew red instead. Was this rude girl trying +to make fun of her again?</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Especially in the country,” added Athalie.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Mary said no more. Other girls and boys were standing +around the entrance as they went up the path. Athalie +stared at everyone as if she had come to a show and that +was what was expected of her. Bannard came down the +street from the other direction and lifted his hat gravely +to Athalie. She dimpled and smiled.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“So he goes to Sunday school too!” she remarked +complacently.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Why, yes of course,” said Mary somewhat shortly. +“He’s the minister. Why shouldn’t he come!” She was +getting tired of the publicity of escorting this strange girl. +She wished Sunday school were well over.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie was much entertained all through Sunday +school. She stared at everybody’s clothes, kept her eyes +wide open during prayer watching the contortion of the +superintendent’s lips as he prayed. The other girls, duly +devout, stole curious glances at her between their fingers. +Her conduct of the day before had been carefully discussed +at the dinner tables and a general taboo placed +upon her as far as an associate for daughters was concerned. +To find her in Sunday school was therefore a +surprise. The more so as a rumor had been started by +Pristina Appleby’s essay at the club that Patterson Greeves +was one of the new thinkers and had left the faith of his +fathers to wander in dangerous speculations.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>But when Sunday school was out there was Patterson +Greeves coming up the walk with Silver by his side, her +sweet face smiling to every one, her smile almost like a part +of the sunshine, her eyes as blue as the dress she wore and +the little hat with its black wing.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie stood by the door with Mary Truman and +watched them approach, noted her father’s fine presence +with pride, heard the whispered remarks about him, then +heard: “Isn’t she sweet!” and saw that all eyes were +directed toward Silver. The sullen fires came back to her +eyes. She looked around like a hunted thing and for an +instant thought of bolting straight through the graveyard. +Then her father’s grave glance was upon her pleasantly +and her face lighted up. He was not displeased with +her then. She experienced a sudden surprised pleasure +in it. Fiercely did she desire to belong to someone, to +have someone care for her, to be able to please. All her +life she had met with impatience and curbing. This father +she had come determined to win to herself or die in the +attempt. Deeply had she longed for a home and parents +like other girls and had not had them. Perhaps she had, +down deep in her heart, the thought that maybe somehow +she might draw hers together. All her young life she had +showered upon her selfish mother a degree of devotion, +one might almost say adoration such as few real mothers +get, and it had only returned upon itself in bitterness. +The mother had regarded her lightly, tolerantly, gaily, +yet if that mother had asked of her any sacrifice, no matter +how great, the fierce young soul would have given it, +gladly, freely. So now Athalie regarded her father with +eyes of pride and of possession.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Another face just then picked itself out from the +throng of churchgoers, a young face, strong and manly, +vaguely familiar. He was standing under the willow +tree near the gravestones, bare headed, cleanly shaven, neat +and trim in a much brushed suit, talking to a group of other +boys. Presently they sauntered over toward the steps +nodding to the girls who came by, calling out a pleasant +word. Mary Truman stepped down below Athalie +and spoke:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Why, hello, Barry. Where were you Friday night? +Didn’t Mr. Bannard give you my invitation to the +fudge party?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Barry turned quickly and pleasantly.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Sorry Mary, I didn’t get home till late. Had an +errand that kept me. Hear you had a great time. Save +some fudge for me?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Then he lifted his eyes and recognized Athalie. He +did not speak. It was rather a lighting of the eyes, a +pleasant understanding that gave her heart that warm glow +and she knew him for her captor of the midnight ride. +After that Athalie was satisfied to stay and see this thing +called church through to the finish.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Oh, she had been to church before of course. At school +those things were compulsory. But there was something +about this church, like a big family gathering of people who +all liked each other and enjoyed being there that was new +to the girl. She stared about and wondered at it. Funny +old women in queer bonnets, coats that were antique of +cut; a few of recognized culture and education, though +that counted very little as yet with Athalie; one or two +with stylish clothes. She watched the Vandemeeter tribe +file into the pew, grandma, first, slowly with a cane, mother +just behind, Henrietta helping grandma, Maria in the same +black broadcloth coat and black felt hat with the coque +feather band she had worn for the last seven years. Maria +was never one to put on summer clothes until summer was +really there. Harriet and Cordelia with pink velvet roses +wreathed around their last year’s dyed straws. She eyed +them curiously. Each a replica of the other in a different +stage of life. What tiresome people. How did they endure +life? She noted grandma’s bent head, mother’s closed eyes, +the squarely folded handkerchiefs, the little tremble of the +feathered bonnet when Henrietta handed grandma the +hymn book. Everything was strange and unusual to +Athalie. She wondered why such common people wanted +to <span class='it'>be</span>, why they seemed to take an <span class='it'>interest</span> in being? Why +did her father stay in a place like this when there were cities +where things were going on, wild, gay life for which +she thirsted?</p> + +<p class='pindent'>She was surprised to see Barry sitting in the back row +of the choir. How queer for a boy like that to be willing +to waste his time this way!</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Suddenly Bannard’s voice arrested her attention. He +was telling a story, though he seemed to have a small +leather book open in his hand as if he were about to read. +He painted a picture with his words. She forgot the +sunny church with its bright carpet and unfashionable +congregation. She was seeing a walled city in a strange +land, under a blazing sky with hungry faces looking out +from little slits of windows in towers and turrets, and an +army camped around on every hand. They had been there +days and days and had starved out the stronghold. The +people were reduced to eating loathsome things. An ass’s +head, something that would not be thought of as food at +another time, sold for about forty dollars, coarse chick +peas were selling at a prohibitive price. Even the king +and his court were starving.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The king was walking on the wall, visiting his sentries. +You could see his face, lined with anxiety, as he shaded +his eyes and looked out across the sea of enemies’ tents. +There was no sign of discouragement on the part of that +enemy. They had come to stay until the city surrendered. +They knew it would not be long. They had spies who +had discovered its state. They were well supplied with +food themselves and had nothing to do but eat and drink +and make merry until they had worn out the resources of +the people and there was nothing left for them but to +surrender. The king sighed and passed on, as he went +someone reached out and caught his robe with claw like +hands, a woman from the doorstep of one of the little +hovels on the wall. There were deep hollows under her +eyes and in her cheeks. She looked more like a skeleton +than a woman. “Help!” she cried, “help, my lord, +O king!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The king drew away impatiently. So many cried for +help and what could he do. “Curse you!” he said impatiently, +“with every barn floor bare and every wine press +empty, what can I do?” and he turned as if to pass on. +But the woman continued her strange weird cry, and began +a terrible story. Another woman appeared crouching +frightened against the doorway.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“This woman promised if I would kill my baby boy +yesterday and cook and eat him that she would kill hers +today, but we ate my son yesterday and now she has hid +hers today. I pray you O king, speak to her. Make her +give up her son that she has hid.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie’s eyes were wide with horror. She had never +heard a story like that.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The speaker depicted the horror on the face of the +king as he listened to the tale, and watched the faces of the +hunger-crazed women, realized that he was powerless to +aid, that things could only grow worse rather than better, +that the Lord in whom he had put at least a little of his +trust had apparently deserted him, and then he laid hold +on his kingly robe and tore it.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Like a company of children the listening congregation +attended, not an eye looked dreamy, not a brain was planning +out tomorrow’s work, nor calculating the sum of +yesterday’s mistakes. The Bible lived and breathed before +them as Bannard spoke. They saw that king reach down +and tear his robe as he passed on, they were among those +who looked beneath and saw the sackcloth next his skin, +oriental symbol of humiliation, of repentance, of prayer. +They caught a glimpse of King Jehoram’s past, his mother +the wicked queen Jezebel, his father of whom it was +written, “there was none like unto Ahab, which did sell +himself to work wickedness in the sight of the Lord.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>One saw that Jehoram was not quite so bad as his +father and mother. He put away the image of Baal which +his father had set up for worship to please his mother, +but he wrought evil in the sight of the Lord.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The king on the wall in the torn robe, with the sackcloth +showing beneath suddenly turned and swore a terrible +oath that he would have the head of God’s prophet +that day, the prophet who had been promising day after +day that God would deliver them from the enemy; and +now they were come to the great extremity and God was +not helping. Why should he wait for God any longer?</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The king walked to his palace and sent a messenger +to the little house where Elisha lived. One saw the +soldier from the palace hurry along with sword in hand +down the narrow streets of queer flat-topped oriental +houses, and Elisha sitting quietly in his door talking to +some of the old men, and suddenly lifting his eye to his +servant and saying in a quiet voice: “The king is sending +a soldier to behead me. Shut the door and lock it. +The king will be here presently. Keep the soldier out +till he comes.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The hurrying feet, the hastily shut door, the altercation. +Athalie sat breathless with glowing eyes of wonder. +The impudent air of the king as he came, the parley: +“Behold, this evil is of the Lord; why should I wait any +longer for Him to help me?” and Elisha’s quiet voice +answering: “Hear ye the word of the Lord. The time +is up! Tomorrow about this time shall a measure of +fine white flour be sold at less than pre-war prices.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Ha!” the laugh of the servant on whom the king +leans, “if God were opening windows in heaven just now +this might be!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The quiet rebuke: “You shall see it but not eat +thereof.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Night drops quickly, suddenly in that eastern land. +Twilight on the white parched city where skulking shadows +pass on the wall and huddled human beings sleep and forget +for a little while their sufferings. The king in his +palace asleep. No faith whatever in what Elisha promised. +Twilight outside the wall in the little leper village, four +lepers waiting at the gate, starving, talking it over. Shall +they throw themselves on the mercy of the enemy, and +beg something to eat? “If they kill us we shall but die +anyway!” The hesitant approach, peering like white +ghosts into the first tent, the pause, the eager going forward. +No one there! The table spread. They snatch the +food and devour it, and move on to the next, and suddenly +are struck with the silence throughout the great camp. +The hurrying investigation, then the hastening back to +the city to tell, the waking of the unbelieving king, the +five men sent to verify the story, the garments strewn in +the way as the enemy fled, the rejoicing, the crowding out +of the city to spoil the tents of the enemy, crushing out the +life of the astonished servant who had laughed the day +before! The wonderful reason of the enemy’s flight, +that the Lord had caused a sound of horses to be heard +by them!</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie looked around the church to see if anybody +was really believing it. Where did they get a strange +story like that? The Lord! <span class='it'>The Lord!</span> How strange +that sounded as if the Lord was a real person! Did her +father believe that? She glanced at him as he sat with +stern listening attitude, his gloved hands on his knee. She +could not tell whether he were astonished at it or not. She +listened again. The minister was talking now about world +problems. He said the world was waiting today as then +for the Lord to deliver them from a state of siege into +which their own sin and folly had placed them, and blaming +God that He did not come. They were tired of wearing +sackcloth and ready to do murder. When all the time +God’s wonderful tomorrow was waiting, just over the +way, waiting for them to reach the limit of their own +possibilities that God might show His power and grace. +He said that the troubles of the world would never be +solved and peace never come until Christ came into human +hearts, and that all these things pointed to a time close +at hand when some tomorrow about this time Christ Himself +was coming back to relieve His own forever from a +state of siege.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie never took her eyes from the face of the +speaker during this closing talk. She had never heard +anything like it in her life before. It made realities out +of what had been vague mythical stories, like fairy tales, +before. Was there really a Jesus Christ then? He died, +didn’t He, long ago? On a cross? What did they mean, +<span class='it'>coming again</span>?</p> + +<p class='pindent'>She was silent and thoughtful all that day. Her +father looked at her relieved. She wandered around the +house, played a few little jazzy tunes on the piano which +scandalized the Vandemeeters and Lizette who both made +it a point to listen intently for any sign of a hymn tune, +then drifted away to her room and her fast disappearing +stock of chocolates and literature.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Silver had gone to the Mission school at the Flats. The +house was silent all the afternoon, with a Sabbath stillness +Athalie had never known before. Sabbath meant nothing +to her but a gayer day than usual, the focus of the gaiety +of the week.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Mary Truman, still under parental pressure called for +her to go to Christian Endeavor that evening, and because +Athalie saw nothing else to do, and her father and Silver +were talking in the library before the fire, she went. She +wondered if the strange boy would be there. Barry. +What a nice name!</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He was there. He passed her a hymn book and looked +pleased when she came into the bright little chapel room +where they met. He sang in a quartette, growling a nice +low bass. She watched him wonderingly, remembering +how he had held her like a vice when she tried to get +the wheel away from him. Remembering how gently he +had lifted her and carried her.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>It seemed a queer meeting. The girls and boys spoke, +just like a frat. meeting at school, only they said queer +things. They referred to the sermon of that morning +as if they were altogether familiar with the story of that +siege. They spoke of Mr. Bannard as if he were a +brother and comrade. Mr. Bannard was there among +them, just like one of them. It was rather interesting, +only it was embarrassing when they prayed. She didn’t +know what to do with her eyes so she watched them all.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>That boy Barry gave a notice about a committee +meeting after service. Two others jumped up and spoke +about socials that were being planned. They all seemed +so eager and friendly. Athalie felt lonely and outside +everything.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>When they went in the church again there was Silver +sitting with her father. Mary asked her politely to come +in their seat and she went. She did not want to sit +beside Silver again.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Mr. Bannard spoke about the coming of Christ again. +He made it plain that He was really coming, and that +some people, good people presumably for Athalie didn’t +understand that language about “believers” were to be +taken away and the world would wonder where they had +gone. Athalie looked over at Silver. She thought Silver +would be one that would be taken away. Well, that +would be good. She hated good people and she would +be left with her father. It was reasonably sure a noted +man of the world like her father wouldn’t be taken away +from earth like that. He didn’t have that spirit-look +that Silver wore as a garment. It frightened her a little +this talk about the Son of God coming back to earth. +She hoped on second thought that it wouldn’t come till +she was old, very old and didn’t care about living any +more. It stayed with her after she got home, and when +she went to bed and thought of Lilla in a little boat on +the great ocean she cried a few tears sorrowfully. Lilla +was the only god she had ever had.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>On the whole she was rather docile about going to +school the next morning when her father suggested that +she enter high school and finish out the spring term. She +remembered what Barry had said about athletics and +resolved not to eat any more chocolates for a week after +this last box was gone.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>So she polished her nails to a delicate point and betook +herself languidly to school to see how she liked it. She +was astonished to see how little impression she made on +the wholesome atmosphere of high school. The teacher, +a placid faced elderly woman with a firm chin, said to be the +finest school principal in the county, smiled at her pleasantly +and put her in the front seat directly before the desk. +None of the boys gave her a glance, save Barry who +showed mere recognition. The girls she had met smiled +politely and went on with study. Whenever she looked +up she was met with that pleasant challenge of a smile. +There was absolutely no opportunity to get away with +anything unless one first crossed that friendly smile, and +Athalie wasn’t just exactly ready to do that yet until +she had tried things out. There had not been any too +many smiles in her life. She took the book that was handed +her to read until the principal should have time to examine +her and place her in the classes where she fitted, and was +surprised to find it was an interesting novel. The teacher +explained it was the book the English class were reading +for review and conversation that week.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Her father glanced into the study-hall half an hour +later, after an inspection of the building led by an old +friend who was the Latin teacher, and saw her absorbed +in the book. He went home with a sigh of relief, comforted.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>But that very night Athalie wrote eleven invitations +to six boys and five girls for a house party that week-end, +and mailed them early in the morning before she went +to school. But that no one in her family knew.</p> + +<h2>XXIV</h2> + +<p class='pindent'>The tramp had found work as a laborer in the glass +factory through the efforts of some of the good Presbyterian +women whose wood piles had been supplying his +breakfasts and dinners for some time. He worked feebly +and with great effort and managed to maintain his rôle of +semi-elderly invalid who was doing his best.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He was working with a gang of other men shovelling +sand into a cart when Silver Greeves came by with a basket +of broth and oranges and a lovely dolly for the little +Mary who was now on the high road to recovery.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The tramp paused in the monotony of his service. +He put in regularly one shovelful to the other men’s +two. He always paused longest for interruptions and rested +his weary back. The other men paused also and watched +the progress of the lithe girl as she stepped down the +roughly cobbled path and entered the cottage.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“That’s that girl from the Silver family,” said one +of the men. “Take notice of her? She’s been comin’ +down to that wop’s house every day. She’s been takin’ +care of the sick kid.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, they’d oughtta do things like that. They got +aplenty ain’t they? Don’t we keep ’em in cash with our +labor? They couldn’t sell this sand if we didn’t shovel +it, could they? She’d make a pretty hand shovellin’ sand, +now, wouldn’t she? How would she live if we didn’t +shovel her sand fer her? I ask you.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, they got aplenty else ’thout sand anymore. They +got stacks and stacks of money. I heard they got sompin +like a million fer the railroad right of way. She’d oughtta +take notice of the poor folks. I guess that family wasn’t +named Silver fer nothin’.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The tramp gazed steadily at the door where Silver +had disappeared and began to turn around what he heard +in his cunning old brain. He let his companions heave +five shovelfuls before he started in again at a rapidly +diminishing sand pile, and his face wore a thoughtful +look. Whenever he stopped to rest he eyed the house +where Silver had entered. When she finally came out, +lingering on the doorstep to talk with the smiling dark-eyed +mother he took another siesta and studied the scene carefully, +taking in details of dress and height and coloring. +Then his cunning eyes dropped to his task again and lifted +for an instant to meet hers only when Silver passed opposite +to him, as she smiled and greeted them all in a +friendly way.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Some gurrul!” remarked a short burly man with +red curls and a brogue, “the master must be proud o’her. +I guess he’d not take all his millions for the likes of her!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Yes, she’s a fine lady! But it’ll take a plenty millions +to keep her in all she’ll want,” grouched the other man.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, what’s a lady!” said the tramp as he lifted +another shovelful of sand.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Down by the bridge Silver met Bannard and lingered +there to watch the little fishes darting in the stream. She +had much to tell him of the condition of some of the +families she had visited. Sam was bringing his wife over +from Italy, and Carmen was having trouble getting his +citizen’s papers. Something about his questionnaire during +the war. He had not understood enough English to make +out what they were asking him, and he couldn’t write it +himself, so some absurd mistake had been made. Could +he see the County Judge and straighten it out?</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Bannard finally turned and walked back with her +through Sweetbriar lane, into Aunt Katie’s for a moment +to get a taste of the honey cakes she was baking, and +so on through the hedge into the sweet old Silver garden. +They lingered talking beside the sun-dial, tracing the +quaint figures on its face, watching the slow, sure march of +the sun from point to point.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>There was powdered gold in the air and sunshine, +powdered fire shimmering over the tulip bed. The birds +sang with joyous abandon as though they would split +their throats. Greeves looked out of his window from +his work, and his heart was at rest. That was a nice +fellow. A bit wrong in his head knowledge, and, his +beliefs, but all right in his heart and living. And after +all if one could believe in the old legends they were a wonderful +safeguard. Far be it from him to disturb such saintly +faith. He would be careful what he said about unbelief. +It almost seemed as if what the minister had said had been +true. Things had settled down into a pleasanter way. The +siege was lifting, but of course God had nothing to do +with it. It was merely the adjusting of all elements to +environment. It was sound philosophy anyway, to be +patient and wait for things to adjust themselves. Then +he went back to his preface which he was writing with +great care.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“If the present advance of science—” How was it +he had meant to phrase that sentence?</p> + +<p class='pindent'>And down in the garden the two had sauntered into +the summer house and were telling each other about their +early life. It is a beautiful stage of friendship when two +who admire one another reach that point. It is the building +of a foundation for something deeper and truer.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Well for them that the garden was located behind the +house, with tall hedges surrounding, and that neither the +Weldons nor Vandemeeters could penetrate therein, and +only the kindly eye of Aunt Katie knew where they were, +or the whole town would have been agog. They found +so much to talk about that the minister forgot to go back +to the Flats until the lunch bell rang in the Silver house, +and then he made his sudden apologies and departed hastily +over the fence. Silver went in with flushed cheeks and +bright eyes thinking how wonderfully life was opening +out for her who had been but such a short time before +bereft and alone.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie came home from school quite pleasant and +tractable. She had an armful of books and she seemed +interested in them. Her father looked the books over +and talked with her a little about them, gave her a few +hints how to concentrate in studying, and went away +to his library again entirely satisfied that he was doing the +father-part as well as could be expected. Perhaps after +he got used to it it wouldn’t be so bad after all.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Meantime Athalie up in her room was working with +needle and thread and scissors to transform several of +her new frocks against the coming of Friday evening, +while her books lay in a heap on the floor not to be touched +until the next morning, and her thoughts were wandering +a woolgathering.</p> + +<hr class='tbk'/> + +<p class='pindent'>About half a mile below the bridge at the lower end +of Silver Sands, to the left of the road where it curves +around to go to Frogtown there rises a little hill. On +its top, set in a thick grove of maples, birches and oaks +with plenty of undergrowth, there stands a little one-roomed +hut. It had been built of field stones a long +time ago, when the grove was a big woods of sugar maples, +perhaps for a shelter at sugaring off time. There was +a fireplace at one end, a little prison-like window and +a sagging wooden door. The window was boarded up +and the door had stood ajar for years. The boys of the +town used to use it for a rendezvous but had long since +deserted it for newer quarters below the bridge where +some enterprising seniors in high school had built a camp +among the pines.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The tramp had sighted this empty dwelling, and after +watching it for several days and sampling its hospitality +at night, he took up his abode therein, repaired the door, +unnoticeably, left the window boarded up, and built his +meagre fires at night when no one would see the smoke. +There was plenty of wood around for the rustling.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The floor was the bare earth, and in one corner a pile +of leaves and moss made a bed, with an old blanket he +had taken from somebody’s clothes line down in the village. +In a big packing box that he had found behind the cannery +quite early one morning, he kept his frugal stores: eggs, +butter, bread, tobacco, half a ham, and a big black bottle. +The top of the box served as his table. Here he crept at +evening when his shovelling was done, taking care to +arrive by a circuitous route, and to close the door before +lighting his bit of a candle. Here at evening he sat with +his pipe and pondered many a scheme, or went over and +over the various mistakes and failures of his life which +had landed him in confinement within stone walls for a +time, and searched how he might carry something through +yet again.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>That same night he crept to his lair and sat on the +sheltered side looking away toward the village thinking. +Through its nest of trees he could see the white pillars of +the Silver house standing as it did at the eminence of the +street, lifting its head just a trifle above all the other +houses. As the twilight deepened and darkness gave opportunity +for Sin to walk abroad unrecognized, he loitered +down the hill and crept by unused paths into the town +where he had a few patrons who kept their little odd jobs +for him at night. They talked about him in their sewing +circle and said he was a self-respecting man, and one had +given him a shirt, and one some pairs of much darned +socks and they talked about helping him to find a place +to board where he could look after the furnace for his +keep when winter came on. Drab he was as he walked +along in the shadow side of the moonlit street, and drab +he faded into space when he came to a high hedge. Carefully +he stole around the old Silver place, and felt out +the garden paths, rubber tired he surrounded the spot +and peered in cautiously at all the windows. He studied +the lines of Patterson Greeves’ thoughtful face as he sat +at his desk working on that preface, and judged it cannily +with the eye of a specialist. He put his ugly mask to +the very pane of glass beside Silver’s head as she sat +reading in the big easy chair at the other end of the library. +He cautiously searched the darkened drawing room with +a pocket flash, and he took in the dining room, especially +the silver on the sideboard while Anne and Molly were +setting the table for breakfast. The kitchen was not so +easy, but he managed it while Joe and Molly and Anne +sat eating their dinner.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I thought I saw a face at the window, Joe, go out +and see if someone is looking for you,” said Anne in her +calm voice, and Joe shoved back his chair noisily and +went out, but came back presently and reported that Anne +was “seein’ things.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“It must be the young huzzy upstairs is gettin’ on +yer nerves, Anne.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“The young lady’s all right the last two days,” said +Anne complacently, Athalie’s church going and willingness +to go to school had done much toward mollifying +Anne. “And <span class='it'>I saw</span> a face at the window. It was likely +Jock Miller brought back that sickle you lent him. I’m +not so old that I can’t tell a face at the window when I +see it.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Back in the lilac bushes among the lilies-of-the-valley +a drab shape huddled, listened, and presently shrunk away, +puzzling. That wasn’t the young lady he saw pass the +fire house that day. Were there two?</p> + +<p class='pindent'>For the rest of that week life settled down into the +grooves of what a well regulated family life should be +and Patterson Greeves took heart of hope and plunged +into his book. Athalie had been regular at school, late +only once, and seemed to be giving actual attention to +her studies. She professed to be deeply interested in education +for the first time in her life, and took her books +upstairs to her room immediately after dinner at night. +Her father began to hope that perhaps she had inherited +his love of study. Several times she came to him with +some question about her lessons. Usually some unusual +question. She was sharp as a needle. Would he ever +learn to be proud of her? If she only weren’t so fat, so +sort of fleshly.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Friday morning as Athalie was about to start for +school she stepped into the dining room where Anne was +crumbing the table preparatory to taking off the breakfast +cloth and said loftily:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, Truesdale! Have plenty of cake ready this +afternoon. I’m bringing guests.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“There’s always plenty of cake in the house,” said +Anne stiffly. She wasn’t sure she cared for being called +Truesdale. Of course it was English, but she had an +inkling that in this case it was intended for patronage.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I mean—<span class='it'>lots</span>!” said Athalie. “There’ll be about +twelve of us altogether.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“There’s always cake enough in the house for twenty +if need be!” Anne froze.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“They’ll all be here for dinner I think,” added Athalie +as she closed the door and ran down the steps, “I told +dad about it.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Now it happened that “dad” had gone to the city +on the seven o’clock train to consult a book in the library.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“It’s strange he said nothing to me about it. He’s +always that particular about making trouble,” said Anne +as she reported the invasion to Molly.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Aw, that’s all right, Anne,” said Molly cheerfully, +“you’d oughtta be glad she’s going to be friendly with +the townspeople. We’ll just get up a real dinner Anne, +and let her have a good time. The master’ll like it. He +seems real satisfied with the way she’s took to school.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Yes,” agreed Anne grudgingly, “but I’d a been +better satisfied if the master had a spoke to me hisself. +Howsomever!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The house was always spick and span. Anne saw to +it that there were flowers in the vases, and the best doilies +as if for a company of ladies.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Because them childer has eyes and tongues in their +heads,” she explained to Molly who came in to consult +her as to whether she should make hard sauce or boiled +sauce for the bread pudding that was destined for lunch.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie telephoned at noon that she was not coming +home to lunch.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“She’ll be taking it with some of the girls!” she said +happily, “it’s nice to think of her gettin’ in and bein’ +like other girls. Mebbe she’ll get rid of her queer hair +and eyebrows some day. I think she might be passable +lookin’ if she didn’t dress so queer! Now them dresses +he bought her. They looked real simple, but when she +gets um on they somehow look diffrunt. But I’m sorry +she didn’t come home, I wanted to ask her more about +who’s coming? How’ll we know to set table?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, there’ll be time when she comes! Half past +three is aplenty.” So they set about the delightful task +of getting up a young dinner party again in the old house +which had not happened since master Pat’s twenty-first +birthday.</p> + +<hr class='tbk'/> + +<p class='pindent'>It was nearing three o’clock when a taxi from the +city drew up at the door causing great sensation over at +the Vandemeeter’s. They had seen Mr. Greeves go away +early in the morning. They could not figure out who +this might be.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>A young woman got out and paid the driver, preceding +him up the walk to the house as he carried two +armfuls of luggage.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“She’s all tails around her feet,” said grandma +Vandemeeter, “and I can see myself without any glasses +that she’s got a painted face even if she has got a mosquito +netting over her hat.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“This is Marcella Mason,” announced the stranger +as Anne opened the door. “I suppose you’re expecting +me. I’ll just have my bags carried up to my room at once. +I’m frightfully dusty. Hot water please. I suppose you +have plenty of it here in the country? If not please heat +it at once. I’m accustomed to a hot bath.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>A silver dollar skillfully manipulated slid into Anne’s +astonished hand and out again to the floor quicker than +it went in. She stepped back indignantly, with blazing +cheeks and snapping eyes.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Is that your money, Miss? You dropped it!” she +said crisply.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Why, that’s your tip!” laughed the girl, “don’t you +want it?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Tip?” repeated Anne with her chin aloft, “tip? I +don’t understand you. You’d best pick it up, Miss or it’ll +get lost. You can step this way.” She led the way up the +wide stair, thinking rapidly. It was not in the possibility +that this upstart should occupy one of the best rooms. +Anne led her down the back hall to a little bedroom off +the sewing room where a seamstress sometimes stayed. +Neat and trim it was with a single iron bed, a bit of a +bureau and a stationary washstand. Silver house was +not behind the times in the matter of conveniences.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“You can put your things down on the chair,” said +Anne indifferently.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The stranger advanced and surveyed the room.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, I’m afraid this room won’t do for me!” she +looked around. “No pier glass. And don’t you have +private baths? What other rooms have you? I came +first to make my choice. This seems to be a large house.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“This is the only one, Miss. You can take it or leave it +as you like. I’m busy just now. You’ll have to excuse me. +Miss Athalie will be home from school in a short while.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“School! You don’t mean to tell me she goes to +school! That’s rich! She swore she’d never enter a +school room again!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Anne gave her a withering glance and departed in +high dudgeon.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“You should see the huzzy now!” she told Molly. +“Rings on her fingers and jewels on her toes. And the +impertinence of her! Offering me money like a porter +in a hotel. Well, I wonder what the master’ll be saying +now!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“The master just called up whilst you was upstairs. +He says he may miss the first train and not to wait for +him, to go right on and have dinner. I guess he thought +he’d like to get out of the fuss of it.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, I shouldn’t wonder! I wish Miss Athalie was +here. Miss Silver hasn’t got back from the Flats yet, +has she? She’s a good girl. She would go see to that +thing upstairs. Keep watch for her comin’ and tell me. +I’ll warn her afore she goes up the stair.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>But Silver was helping an Italian woman to make a +little dress for her baby and did not come home until five +o’clock. Before that time many things had happened.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Before Athalie arrived the three o’clock train had +come in and a troop of young people, shouting, laughing, +hooting at every person they passed, criticizing the houses, +jeering at the stores, came pouring down the street. Their +baggage followed in Hoskin’s express wagon, with two +men on behind to help and observe. The girls were attired +in most striking costumes, and lolled on the boys’ arms, +pulled off each other’s hats and threw them into the street, +and in general conducted themselves with great indiscretion. +The villagers came to their front windows in astonishment +and deep disapproval and one woman even +telephoned for the police who happened to be away from +his headquarters at that moment.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>They stormed up on the Silver front veranda like a +hurricane, having enquired of everyone they met where +“Greeveses” lived, and while they awaited the answer to +their continuous and imperious knocking, two girls and a +young man had a skirmish in the yard incidentally breaking +off three of Joe’s most cherished hyacinth blooms.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Then down the stairs with boisterous laughter tripped +the young woman who had arrived in a taxi; and opened +the door before the scandalized Anne could get farther +than the pantry.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, boy! I guess I put one over on you this time!” +screamed the girl.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The horde swarmed in, flinging caps and handbags in +every direction.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Here’s Marcy! I say that isn’t fair, Marcy! You +got the best room! You always do.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Come on up and take your choice. There’s not so +awful many as I thought there’d be. The old prune that +showed me up gave me a sort of servant’s room, but I +got rid of her and went around till I found what I wanted. +I take the left hand front, and I’ve got my door locked +so you needn’t try to get in. I’ll take Maebeth with me +and nobody else. There’s plenty of room. I’ve been +everywhere. You two girls better take that other front +room. There’s somebody’s things in there, but you shouldn’t +worry. Possession is how many points? I forget. Violet +better go with Ath. Her things are in that second door. +Say, boys, did you bring the booze? Plenty of it? Isn’t +that great. We’ll have a real time! You boys better go +up to the third story. There’s five big rooms up there! +Come on Beth, let’s hurry and get dressed before Ath +comes. She goes to school! Isn’t that the limit? She must +have some old grouch of a governor! Don’t say anything. +His clothes must be in this closet and I’m going down to +dinner in <span class='it'>his dress suit</span>—!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh Marcy! Do you <span class='it'>dare</span>, Marcy?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“My soul!” said Anne Truesdale, “what’ll we do? +Do you think maybe I better send for the minister? Oh, +I wish you had told me master Pat was on the phone.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“But you didn’t know it then.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, no, but I coulda told him about there being +company.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, you didn’t. I guess that harum scarum’ll be +home pretty soon. There she comes now, running! I’d +give her a piece of my mind, I certainly would!”</p> + +<h2>XXV</h2> + +<p class='pindent'>But before Anne could get into the hall Athalie had +stormed up the stairs and there ensued such greetings as +made the old house sound like a vaudeville show behind +the scenes. The girls in various stages of disarray opened +doors to call to her, the boys issued from a cloud of cigarette +smoke on the third floor by way of the old mahogany +stair rail and came shooting into their midst amid howls +and screams and pretended running to cover. Anne +hurried up to do something about it and resembled an +old hen running from the person who was trying to catch +it while she clucked at her young to get out of the way +but she made no impression whatever on the young people +until suddenly a great stalwart youth discovered her in +his way and stooping over said:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Here, auntie, what are you doing here!” and picking +her up like a child ran fleetly down the stairs with +her in his arms, depositing her on the console in the hall +and vanishing up again in three strides.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Anne, when she recovered her breath crept fearsomely +into the pantry white and spent, her dignity drooping like +a broken feather, and while she stood panting, her hand +on her heart, her back against the swing door, a gentle +hand pushed it, and Silver’s voice said:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“It’s only me, Anne. What is the matter upstairs?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“It’s a ’ouse party!” sobbed Anne, and buried her +face in Silver’s neck. “They’ve took the master’s room, +and Miss Lavinia’s. I don’t know what the master’ll say +when he comes. And your things! They maul everything +they lay their hands on, Miss Silver. Oh, I oughtta +have prevented this! I oughtta! I oughtta! I’m no +housekeeper at all to let this come behind his back. I’m +getting old! I’m no good any more—”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“There, there, Anne, don’t feel so badly. There isn’t +any harm done. They are only a parcel of kids out having +a good time, and it’s gone to their heads. Don’t worry. +Father won’t blame you. It’s Athalie, I suppose. Let’s +try to see what we can do to make everything move off +quietly. How long are they going to stay? Just for +dinner?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I don’t know. I don’t know! She said a ’ouse party, +that first one that come. How long does that last? As +long as the ’ouse stays together I’m thinking, and that’ll +not be long if they carry on as they have been goin’. +They’ve slid down my nice polished stair rails, and there’ll +be scratches on everything. And I’ve kept it all so nice +all the years! Oh dear, oh dear!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Never mind, Anne, it won’t be half so bad as it +seems. Cheer up and get dinner ready. Are you going +to try to have tea?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Deary knows! Miss Athalie ordered cake made before +she left this morning. And me athinkin’ she was that +good a girl to please her father an’ invite the neighbors’ +children home from school to have a good time an’ make +’em forget how she treated ’em Saturday afternoon!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, never mind. I’ll go upstairs and see if I can’t +stop that noise.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Silver went, but her arrival proved no more than if +she had been a fly on the wall. The girls and boys were +having a scuffle in the hall, and one girl’s dress was half +pulled off of her. They did not even glance at Silver as +she hurried by them to take refuge in her room and think +what she ought to do. But two other girls were in there +attired in lacy lingerie and one was smoking a cigarette.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I beg your pardon,” she said pleasantly, “I think +someone has made a mistake. This room is occupied. If +you will let me help you gather up your things I will show +you to another room.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Silver did this, not because she was so disturbed at +having her room taken as because Anne had felt so strongly +about Miss Lavinia’s sacred chamber being desecrated.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The girls simply stared.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Who are you?” asked the girl who was powdering +her face at the glass.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I am Miss Greeves. Athalie’s sister. You must be +her school friends.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, I know who you are. You’re that baby that +was given away. Your name isn’t Greeves at all. It’s +Jarvis. Ath told us all about you. You needn’t bother about +us, she put us here and we’d rather stay. You can take +your own things out if you want to.” The girl turned +back to the mirror with an air of having dismissed her. +Silver reflected for an instant. What chance had she +to maintain her rights against such insolence? She would +frustrate her desire of quieting the company and getting +control of things if she was not a perfect lady. She was +amazed that girls could say such things. There must +be a whole school of them, bred in the same atmosphere.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The color had fluttered into her face at the insulting +words, but her sense of humor came to her assistance +and as once before she had foiled insolence by her silvery +laugh, so now she let it forth again, until the visiting +girls turned and stared. They even grew a little red. They +had intended to make her angry, and lo she laughed!</p> + +<p class='pindent'>With a quick turn Silver went out of the room and +closed the door.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Boys!” she said placing a firm hand on the arm +of the scuffling gentlemen nearest her, “I know where +there’s some awfully good cake. If you’ll follow me and +be perfectly quiet about it I’ll get it for you!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Instantly every boy of the six was surrounding her +and clamoring with all his might, even attempting to lift +her off her feet and bear her down the stairs.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>But there was something about Silver when she chose +to be so that awed every boy in the vicinity. Her spirit +face suddenly could become grave and stern, with a power +of command that arrested the attention and demanded +respect.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“No, you’ve got to be perfectly quiet!” she said +smilingly, “the spell won’t work unless you do! No +quiet, no cake!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie had forgotten when she summoned all these +gorgeous young hoodlums to dissipate her gloom, and informed +them well about her unbeloved sister, that Silver +was a girl and that a boy will “fall for anything” sometimes, +as she said with a shrug that very evening. To the +amazement of the other girls the boys became tame at once +and Silver led them all off quietly down the stairs and to +the drawing room where she rang the bell and said in +low tone:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Anne, dear, would you bring that cake now?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The “Anne dear” got it. Anne brought the cake in +bountiful supply, and Silver improving the brief and +shining hour got all their names and made quite a little +ceremony learning them so she would remember.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The boys were quite pleased with her, and she held them +there with talk about things boys like. Dogs and athletics, +and national games. She had seen some big ones. She +talked familiarly about some of the fraternities they longed +to be bid to join, she spoke of college, and with just that +rare flattery of smile and camaraderie that touches a boy +of seventeen and brings him to her feet, she sat on a +low divan and chatted with them bringing burst after burst +of gruff laughter, and winning them thoroughly as her +friends.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>In the midst of an exciting recital of how a famous +baseball nine got ahead of an opposing team that was +employing unfair means to win the game, they all became +aware of a hostile presence standing on the stairs.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie had come down in gorgeous array in a brief +frock of gold tissue strapped over the shoulders and down +the skirt in floating panels with peacock feathers. Around +her forehead was bound a frontlet of green and blue +sequins, and the gold tissue of which her stockings were +composed was so exceedingly sheer as to give the effect +of bare skin above the tiny jeweled gold slippers. Nobody +would have bought such a rig for a young girl, but Lilla +had been regal in it once upon a time, and the long pendulum +earrings that dangled from the ears of her daughter +and gave her such an Egyptian-princess effect had been especially +designed in jewels to match the costume for some +great occasion. It might be possible that Lilla on the +high seas knew nothing of the whereabouts of some of +her most valued possessions. Athalie had helped herself +as she chose before her departure.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>But Athalie’s face was marked with disdain, jealousy, +hate in startling lines. Silver arose quickly with a smile +that faded as she saw the girl’s fixed look as if she were +not there at all. Athalie was determined to ignore +her among these her friends. How could she put up any +kind of a front against that? And yet she must for her +father’s sake, and keep things within bounds if possible +until his return. It occurred to her that she might telephone +Bannard and ask him to dinner. He would help +her and know what to do, but supposing anything unforeseen +should occur, anything out of the conventional order, +that should get abroad, it might not be well that the minister +should be known to have been there. She had been brought +up to think of those things. She had not been a minister’s +granddaughter for nothing. Therefore she shut her firm +young lips and determined to fight it out alone.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>She was wearing a crêpe de chine dress of soft gray +the right tint to bring out the pink in her cheeks, and the +gold in her hair and lashes. It was simple of line and +girded with a sash of itself heavily fringed and knotted +at one side hanging a little below the deep hem of her +skirt. She wore no ornaments and the elbow sleeves and +round neck were without decoration. It was scarcely a +dinner gown for a formal affair, yet she could not have +changed if she wished since the invasion of her room, and +she would not if she could. There were more important +affairs on hand.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Her sister’s attitude plainly dismissed her, but she +rose and deliberately turned her conversation to one of +the boys nearest her, ignoring the look, and finally Athalie +spoke, as one speaks to an inferior:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“You don’t need to eat with us Alice Jarvis. It will +make an uneven number. We have just men enough to +go round.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, that’s all right,” said Silver with a careless smile, +“father’ll be here pretty soon you know,” and went on +talking to the admiring boy, although her heart was beating +wildly and she wished herself far away from this +scene of dissension and frivolity.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, very well. Suit yourself!” said Athalie with +her haughtiest voice, and began to devote herself to the +entire group, and attract them all from Silver.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Silver slipped out of the room and went back upstairs. +If she could keep the bunches of girls and boys apart till +dinner was ready it might help. She went from room to +room offering help. Had they all the towels they needed? +Could she help them with their dresses, or play ladies’ maid +in any way? Would they like ice water? Her insistent, +pleasant serviceableness met with no response except +silence. They whispered behind her back and exchanged +glances. She saw that the way ahead was to be most unpleasant, +but she went steadily on ignoring the meaning +of their attitude. She was the pleasant elder sister waiting +on her younger sister’s guests.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>But she had committed what was to them an unpardonable +sin. She had taken their devoted admirers away +from them and interested them herself. That could never +be forgiven.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Silver was very tired when at last the scene changed +to the dinner table. She had placed herself at the head +and was there as they came into the room, acting the part +of hostess. Athalie stopped and looked furiously at her, +but finally decided to get her revenge some other way and +leaving the other end seat unoccupied proceeded to seat +her guests to suit her own purposes.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The chairs were all filled but one.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Marcy! Where are you? You sit at the corner next +dad’s seat. Hurry. I’m starved.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Marcella Mason who had just tripped down stairs and +was entering from the hall paused a moment lifting up a +monocle on a long silk cord.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Good evening, gents and women!” she saluted elegantly, +“so glad you all could come!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Every eye turned toward the doorway and then a +shout arose gradually growing into a roar.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Marcy! Marcy! Look at Marcy!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>For Marcella Mason was attired in Patterson Greeves’ +full dress suit, broad white shirt front, patent leather shoes +and all, and looked the very personification of impudence +and daring.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Silver and Anne Truesdale had agreed before dinner +was served that whatever happened they would keep their +composure and not look shocked nor horrified. Poor Anne +Truesdale scuttled hurriedly into the pantry. This was +too much for her. Silver struggled with her irritation +and mastered a grave little smile. It was rude of course, +impudent, but only a prank after all. It was not for her +to deal with a thing like this. Her father would be here +pretty soon. Oh, that he might arrive at once!</p> + +<p class='pindent'>From the start the hilarity was uproarious. Several +times bits of bread went whizzing back and forth across +the board that had for years seen gathered around it grave +and dignified and honored men and women. Anne trembled +for the delicate long stemmed glasses in which the +delicious fruit nectar was served.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The dinner progressed through a rich cream soup, +roast chicken, with vegetables, home-made ice cream with +crushed strawberries, and great plates of delectable cake.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The little cups of black coffee were being served when +Athalie reached under her chair and brought forth a lacquered +box which she passed around. Cigarettes! Strange +Silver had not thought that might happen! And the guests +were all taking them, girls too, and lighting them. Little +curls of smoke rose delicately in the stately dining room, +and six little flappers pursed their painted lips and blew +six more wreaths of smoke into the air.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Silver took her coffee cup and toyed with it thoughtfully. +What would her father say to this? She was not +quite sure whether the time had come for her to take a +stand or not. But when at a signal from Athalie one of +the boys arose and stepping out of the room brought back +two tall bottles of dark liquid, then she knew her time +had come. He had pulled out the cork and was filling an +empty glass by one of the girl’s plates. The fumes of the +liquor arose hotly to her sensitive nostrils. What chance +had she against so many? Her face was white and stern +like a spirit as she rose from her chair and faced them. +“Stop!” she commanded to the astonished boy who held +the bottle, “Joe, will you remove these bottles at once? +And Anne, will you kindly take that tray and gather up +the cigarettes and throw them out? My father does not +allow such things to go on in his house nor around his +table!” she said addressing the company in a clear ringing +voice. “If you want to smoke and drink you must +go elsewhere!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Then Athalie arose suddenly with her glass of water +in her hand and flung its contents at her sister.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Shut up!” she said roughly. “It’s none of your +business what we do. This is my party and I’m the +<span class='it'>daughter</span> in this house!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“<span class='it'>Athalie!</span> What does all this mean?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Patterson Greeves was standing in the doorway his +hat still on his head, his hands still cluttered with packages +of books as he had come in, his face stern with anger.</p> + +<h2>XXVI</h2> + +<p class='pindent'>The entire company turned in startled surprise and +Anne and Joe scuttled furtively over to stand by him. They +had been plainly frightened by a situation that they knew +they could not control.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, dad, is that you? I didn’t hear you come in. +I’m glad you’ve arrived. It was naughty of you to be late +the first night of my house party,” broke forth Athalie nonchalantly. +“Come and let me introduce you to my guests.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Patterson Greeves made no move to go forward. He +handed his packages to the attendant Joe, and took off his +hat and gloves, still standing where he had first appeared, +still looking the company over, person by person, his eyes +growing sterner, his mouth more displeased.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I do not understand,” he said coming forward enquiringly, +giving a searching glance into each impudent +countenance, guest by guest.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Let me have that bottle please!” He took the big +bottle from the unresisting hand of the once arrogant youth +and lifted it near to his nose.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Where did you get this liquor may I ask? I’m afraid +somebody has been breaking the laws of the land! I +shall have to put you all under arrest until we investigate. +Joe, will you kindly call up the chief of police?” The +entire company of would-be revellers arose in consternation +and looked to right and left for a place of exit, but +Anne Truesdale, her cheeks flaming an angry crimson, +her eyes like two sword points barred the way of the pantry, +and the angry householder and his ancient servitor stood +in the wide doorway leading to the hall. They began +to steal furtively behind one another and sidle toward the +pantry fancying Anne less redoubtable than their inhospitable +host.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Why dad! I think you’re horrid!” broke forth +Athalie, her lips trembling. “Why, <span class='it'>dad</span>!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Be still Athalie! You may go to your room! You +have broken all three of your promises. I have nothing +more to say to you at present. You know what the consequence +was to be.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“But dad—”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Leave the room!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>And Athalie actually left it.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The moment was awful. Even Silver felt sorry for +them.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Now, ladies and gentlemen, while we are waiting +for the officer let me get your names and addresses,” said +Patterson Greeves his class room tone upon him, as he +brought out pencil and note book. “Your name sir?” He +turned to the first white-faced boy, the one who had held +the bottle as he entered.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The boy lifted a face from which the fun had fled +and tried to brazen it out.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, cert., my name’s Brett Hanwood. Hamilton +Prep pitcher you know.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Straight around the table he went writing down carefully +the addresses, asking a searching question now and +again. When he reached Marcella Mason he eyed her +curiously for an instant, felt of the sleeve of her coat, a +flicker of amusement passing over his otherwise grave +face and said:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“And this—ah—gentleman?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Marcella winced.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“This completes the list I think.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Patterson Greeves lifted his pencil and counted, “four +ladies and six—” his eye was on Marcella, “men! The +ladies of course we will not hold accountable. And now as +it is not convenient for me to entertain guests tonight they +will be returned to their homes or their schools as the case +may be. The men—” again he glanced at Marcella, “will +await the officer’s verdict. Doubtless they will be held till +the trial, or possibly let out on bail if they can furnish +sufficient. The state is laying stress on this matter of prohibition +just now and—!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh!” gasped Marcella and collapsed in sobs.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Now,” said Greeves, “if you four young ladies will +just go into the library I will call up your school and +arrange for your return.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh—h-h-h!” murmured the girls in a panic.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Just then the officer was brought in by Joe, and Greeves +explained to him in a low tone. Then he turned back to +his frightened victims. “You four girls may come into the +library now.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The girls huddled in a mass and followed him. The +sound of hasty feet scuttling after and Marcella arrived +red and teary.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I—I—I’m a girl too!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh,” said Greeves surveying her through his glasses, +“curious specimen I must say. Man and girl! Well, +well! Which school do you attend?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Marcella bore the sarcasm meekly and tried to hide +her borrowed plumage behind the other girls. They made +a curious group in their wild young flapper frocks with +their plump, bare shoulders shivering in the shadows of +the big old room while they waited for Patterson Greeves +to get long distance. They glanced mutely into one +another’s eyes and thought of the school records already +against them.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Is this Briardale school for girls? Is this the principal? +Let me speak to the principal please. I have four +young ladies here in my house who claim to belong to +your school. They have been attempting to have a hooch +party during my absence. Can you tell me where they are +supposed to be tonight? Shall I return them to you? +Their names are—”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He consulted his paper and read off the names. The +girls stood and shivered as if he were striking them.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I beg your pardon. Did you say Miss Mason was +at home at the bedside of her sick mother? Yes? And +this Violet? Her sister is being married? Oh! I see!” +His eyes dwelt mercilessly on the trembling Violet. “Having +her eyes examined? I see. And the other one? Oh, +she was taken sick and was sent home? I see. Then you +would prefer that I return these young ladies to their +various homes—”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, no, no!” broke in Marcella, “my father would +half kill me! I’d rather go back to school.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Mine would take my next month’s allowance away +and it’s spent already,” wept Violet. Then hushed to hear +what was being said on the telephone.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“You say this Violet lives in our neighboring city? +And Miss Mason in a suburb? Where? Oh, Hazelbrook. +Yes, I know it quite well. I’m not sure but her father is +an old friend of mine. Walter Mason? That’s the one. +Very well, then. I quite agree with you that these two +should go to their homes. I will personally escort them +there at once. The other two you would prefer to have +return to the school tonight? Just how far is that from +the Junction? I see. No, there is no train out of here +until ten o’clock. That would miss connection. I think +it would be better to get an automobile. Yes, I have a +reliable man and his wife, old trusted servants. I can +send them in their care. Oh, that’s all right. I’m only +glad to get it all so easily arranged. They will be there +tonight. It may be late. I may be delayed in finding a +car, but they will arrive, don’t worry. Thank you! +Good night!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The girls were trembling and furious, but looking in +his determined face they saw they had no way of escape. +Especially did Marcella quail as she looked down at her +borrowed garments and thought of her father’s face when +he should hear the report of his old friend.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Patterson Greeves hung up the receiver, rang for Anne +Truesdale, and said:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Now, young ladies, you will go up stairs in charge +of Mrs. Truesdale and find your belongings. We shall +be ready to start in twenty minutes.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He herded them to the stairs, and went into the dining +room to consult with the chief of police who had the +bottle of liquor in his hand and was asking keen questions +with eyes that were used to reading human countenances +and penetrating human masks.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>After a brief consultation between the two men, the +uncomfortable boys were called into the library and subjected +to a telephone conversation much like that which +the girls had passed through, except that it was decided +by the headmaster of the school that the boys should be +returned in a body under police escort, and that +their fathers should be at once summoned from their +various homes. The boys looked even more hunted than +the girls had done. They perhaps had more reason to fear +both parental and scholastic discipline.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The boys were marched out of the house at once +with hastily packed suit cases and sober looks on their +faces. A grocery truck was requisitioned, the boys piled +in, and six men, two of them regular police aides, the +other four pressed into service from the fire house with +hastily improvised uniforms, climbed in after them, a +man to a boy. There was no escape.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The guards hugely enjoyed the occasion. They were +getting a night’s excitement and a long ride free. It +would be something to talk about at the fire house for +many a day. Uri Weldon had been the first one to volunteer. +He had no time even to telephone to Lizette before +leaving. But then Lizette was not one to worry about him.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>In a quarter of an hour an automobile arrived and +two unhappy maidens with handkerchiefs to their eyes +stole out and crept into the back seat. Molly in a flannel +petticoat and an extra sweater under her long winter coat, +climbed fearfully in between them, and Joe took the front +seat beside the driver. They moved off hurriedly through +the night and presently Patterson Greeves and two silent, +angry, frightened girls emerged from the house and +walked down the street to the ten o’clock train for the city.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, they’re all getting away early!” sighed mother +Vandemeeter. “Now we can go to bed in peace. I was +afraid they were going to have a dance and that would +have been so out of place in the old Silver house. I +just couldn’t have gone to sleep for thinking.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I don’t know as they could have gone much later!” +said grandma, getting stiffly up from her padded rocking +chair and tottering toward her downstairs bedroom door. +“This is the last train, isn’t it?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Said Pristina up at her top bedroom window:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Now! I wonder which one he is taking to the train!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Silver and Anne Truesdale busied themselves in putting +the house to rights and gathering up the debris of the brief +onslaught of the enemy.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Them old stemmed fruit cups was one of Miss +Lavinia’s best prized set,” Anne mourned. “To think one +shoulda got broke tonight fer them little fools. I almost +just used the old sauce dishes and then I thought the +master might not like it!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Never mind, Anne, what difference does a glass or +two less make? They’re gone. They might have broken +more if they had stayed longer. It looked to me as if +they were out to break more than fruit glasses.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Yes!” said Anne. “My soul! So that’s that!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Five hours later, Patterson Greeves, dismissing the car +that had brought him back from the city, walked up from +the post office corner where he had got out, and let himself +silently into the house. Anne, released from her vigil, +turned over and murmured drowsily to herself again:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“So that’s <span class='it'>that</span>!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>In the wee small hours of the morning, with the east +paling into pink, the only two who had got any enjoyment +out of the affair, Molly and Joe on their way home from +their long pilgrimage, sitting in the back seat holding hands, +and never saying a word, were having a second honeymoon. +Their first automobile ride! An all night affair. +They were sore and stiff with the long ride, next day. +But what mattered it? They had something to remember +to their dying day. They might have other rides, +doubtless would when Patterson Greeves got time from +parenting to buy a car of his own, but never would any +be like that first one, where the moonlight lay like thin +sheets of silver over the springtime world.</p> + +<h2>XXVII</h2> + +<p class='pindent'>Sometimes a storm will settle the atmosphere, for a +time, and it seemed as though Patterson Greeves’ summary +dismissal of the house party had really subdued Athalie +and made life bearable, and even almost pleasant at times +in Silver house.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>There had been a stormy scene the next morning +between Athalie and her father, but his brief experience +in dealing with the young hoodlums the night before had +seemed to give him confidence. He laid down the law in +no uncertain manner to the young woman, who went +through various stages of rebellion, to argument, then +pleading and finally surrender.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“But I told you about that house party when I first +arrived and you never said a word. You had no right to +come in and raise a row afterwards,” had been her opening +sentence of the interview, spoken with stormy eyes.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>She left the library with downcast countenance and a +promise to apologize to Silver for her insolence of the +night before, a condition of her further remaining in +the house.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Although I hate her just as much as ever and always +shall!” she added as she was about to close the door +behind her.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Her father thought it as well to let this sentiment go +unanswered, and Athalie went up to Silver’s door, walked +in without knocking and announced:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“My father sent me to apologize.” Having said it +she slammed the door after her and departed, leaving +Silver no opportunity to reply.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Thus matters had settled into a semblance of amity +between them. The conversation at the table consisted +in animated talk between Silver and her father, and absolute +silence on the part of Athalie whenever her sister +was present. The two girls walked their separate ways +as much as if they were in separate spheres. Silver made +one or two unsuccessful attempts to bridge over this chasm +between them and finally settled down to forget it and +be happy.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Silver was living a rich and beautiful life, entering +into the church work of the new community with zest +and rare tact, already beloved by everyone, and spoken +of often as being like her great aunt Lavinia.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The minister was a frequent visitor at the house, going +often on hikes and fishing trips with Greeves, and spending +long hours in discussions on political, scientific, and on +rare occasions, religious subjects; and often Silver was a +third member of the party on these occasions. But the +minister was a busy man and did not make his visits to +Silver house too noticeable. It was fortunate for him that +Aunt Katie’s back fence joined the Silver garden, and +that the high hedge made passing possible without calling +the attention of the neighbors, for Silver Sands was very +jealous of their minister, and would never let him pay more +attention to one family or individual without an equal +amount somewhere else. Much of his friendship with +Silver and her father was carried on in the evening, or +morning when they had taken a tramp to the woods and +come on the minister, also sometimes when there was no +school, with the addition of Blink and his dog.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie had begun to take a real if rather puzzled interest +in high school. At first she had attempted to become +a leader, had even offered to furnish cigarettes and teach +the girls to smoke, telling them they were far behind the +times, but this resulted in an instant aloofness on the +part of the girls of the better class. Emily Bragg being +the only one who really accepted the offer and attached +herself to Athalie like a leech.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>This was no part of Athalie’s plan. She retired from +the field as leader and studied the situation for a few +days. She began slowly to perceive that she would never +be accepted nor welcomed as long as she lifted her own +standards. She must accept the standards of Silver Sands +or count herself as an outsider forever.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Experimentally she made an attack on the boys, and +found to her amazement that they too had standards. +They might not be exactly the same as their sisters’, and +there were some few among them who were ready surreptitiously +to meet her half way and laugh with her, yet +on the whole, she was losing rather than gaining in influence, +because for some unaccountable reason even the +boys seemed to feel that she was unclassing herself. She sat +down to ponder and decided that it was the old-fashioned +town and that it was hopeless. Whereupon she brushed +her hair a long time one day and began to curl the ends +under and teach it to be “put up.” She ceased even the +surreptitious application of cosmetics applied on the way +to school since her father’s distinct command had put an +end to a careful make up before her own mirror. Her +eyebrows began to grow in their legitimate place, with a +strange likeness to Patterson Greeves’ and altogether she +took on a more wholesome look in every way.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Saturday mornings, at Silver’s suggestion, Patterson +Greeves made it a point to be at home and to take Athalie +to the country club for a round of golf. Even when she +grew more intimate with her school mates and found some +of her amusement in their Saturday picnics and little round +of simple parties she never failed to accept his invitations +for golf with alacrity. At such times there were flashes +of something like real affection in her eyes, although he +was usually too preoccupied to notice her. Indeed he +would often have forgotten the engagement if Silver had +not reminded him.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Greeves had sought to induce Athalie to eat more wholesome +food. He had hunted out a diet menu and urged it +upon her, and in some degree she had acquiesced, though +he found her often with surreptitious boxes of candy, or +taking more cake at tea than the law allowed. It was not +until Barry again wielded his influence that she really got +at it and began to show a loss in weight.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>It was one Saturday morning that she had at last +decided to try her father on the subject of knickers. She +came down nonchalantly arrayed in them, and announced +herself ready for the country club. Her father looked up +from a page he was correcting with an annoyed frown +upon his brow. He had forgotten that it was Saturday +and was exceedingly anxious to finish the theme he was +at work upon. He took her in, knickers and all, and laid +down his papers with a stern look on his face.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“You’ll have to go by yourself if you’re going to +wear those things!” he said sharply. “It’s strange you +don’t know what a figure you cut in them. You’re too +stout for any such rig!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie cut to the heart as she always was when her +figure was criticized, turned with a shrug and a flip and +an “oh, very well!” and flung out of the room.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Her father settled back to his writing again, thinking +that probably she had gone to change, but as she did not +return he became absorbed once more and forgot all +about it.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie meantime, had stamped out of the front door, +down the street, and was making her way swiftly to the +old log in the woods, the only refuge she knew outside +the house where she would probably meet no one and would +be free to cry her heart out and wonder what had become +of Lilla. She had not had word from Lilla since they +parted.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>She was sitting on the log weeping with long quivering +sobs when suddenly she felt a hand upon her shoulder and +looking up she saw that Barry was sitting beside her.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“What’s the matter kid, has anything happened? Anyone +been treating you mean?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>She lifted eyes that were brimming with tears, and +there was something childish and almost sweet about her +helpless young despair.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“You poor kid,” he said again, “what’s the matter?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He fished a moment in all his pockets, then brought +out from the breast pocket of his brown flannel shirt a +neatly folded clean handkerchief.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I thought I had a blotter,” he remarked, and moving +up gently proceeded to wipe the tears from her eyes.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>In a moment he had her smiling through her tears +with his bright remarks.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, there’s nothing much the matter,” said the girl +relapsing into her despondency. “I guess I’m only mad. +Dad called me fat, and I hate it! He said he wouldn’t go +with me in my knickers. He said I looked awful!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Barry surveyed the garments in question.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Does make you look sort of wide,” he admitted. +“Must be a lot easier to walk in than skirts though. I +like ’em. Why don’t you get thinner, kid? It’s easy. I +can tell you what to eat. We tried it one year when we +wanted to run. Listen. I’ll write it down for you.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I hate spinach!” remarked Athalie coldly.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, well, that doesn’t cut any ice kid! When you get +skinny you’ll be glad. Try a month and get weighed and +see what a difference it makes.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>They talked for sometime and Athalie finally agreed +to try it. Then they drifted into more personal talk and +Barry said he wished she’d come and see his mother +sometime.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie told him about her mother being off in Europe +somewhere. She spoke drearily and the boy read much +between the lines that she did not dream she was telling. +He was quick to read the heart-hunger and yearning in +her voice. There was much that was comforting in his +cheery tone and the way he talked of common things. +Athalie soon sat up and began to smile. Somehow the +world looked brighter and life more possible even without +chocolates. Barry said again he wished she would come +and see his mother, and this time she said she would, and +almost thought perhaps she meant it. It would be interesting +to see what kind of a mother Barry had.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Then suddenly the boy stood up quite sharply as if he +had but just thought about it.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“But I oughtn’t to let you stay here,” he said. “Your +father might not like it. Why don’t you go home and +put on the togs he likes. It won’t take you long. Wait +till you get skinny and then wear these again.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“They won’t fit me,” giggled Athalie. She was growing +quite light hearted.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Come on over this way. I’ll show you a short cut +home, and you won’t need to pass the fire house. There’s +always a lot of crows there waiting to pick the flesh off +your bones.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Maybe that would be quicker than dieting,” laughed +Athalie brightly.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“You bet it would!” said Barry, “we won’t try that +way this time. They’d make remarks if an angel flew +by. Now come on down by the creek. It’s pretty there. +Have you ever seen the rapids? Not very rapid, but it +takes some strength to get a canoe up ’em. Some day we’ll +get your sister and take a canoe jaunt.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>But at that Athalie’s brow darkened and her chin +went up. “I don’t think she’d care to go,” she said, stiffly. +“She’s all taken up with doing things down in that +Frogtown place.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, wouldn’t she?” Barry’s voice was disappointed. +Athalie looked at him jealously. The sun seemed to have +grown gray. Her loneliness had settled down anew.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Barry was tactful for one so young. He saw that for +some reason she did not want the sister. He turned the +subject immediately to the day and the beauties about them.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“There’s a squirrel up in that tree that throws nuts +down on me when I’m fishing sometimes,” he said. “Do +you like to fish? Why don’t you come along with your +father? He and the minister often come up here. Your +sister was along last time.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Ah! It was the sister! Athalie stiffened perceptibly.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“There he goes now, look!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie looked up while the boy talked, pointing out +the squirrel harbor, telling how the squirrels stored their +nuts, how they often ran up the tree with a mouthful of +leaves to stuff in their harbor for a bed.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“See that branch of scarlet leaves up there!” exclaimed +the boy suddenly. “It’s early for them to turn red, but +aren’t they peachy? Shall I get them for you?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He was off up the tree in no time, nimble as a squirrel +himself up, up, and up, till the girl watching felt dizzy +for him, then out on a hazardous limb, and whipping his +knife from his pocket. Presently down came the splendid +branch, fluttering like thousands of scarlet blossoms, and +fell at her feet.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>She stooped and picked it up wonderingly. It was +almost the first time in her life she had gathered trophies +from the woods, the first time any boy had presented her +with anything so glorious and so wild.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Barry was down again in a trice as if it had been +nothing to climb like that, and was walking beside her +telling her about the scarlet maples in the fall. Then all +at once he turned and pointed.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Now, you go across that meadow. When you get to +the corner of the board fence turn to the right next the pasture +and go straight ahead. You’ll find your house just +ahead of you, and nobody will get a chance to see who you +are before you are at home. I won’t go with you. It will +be better not. Those Vandemeeters have eyes all over +the house. Here! Do you want this junk?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie with her arms full of the gorgeous leaves made +her way slowly across the sod of the pasture, and around +the corner of the fence thinking over all that had happened, +wondering why the boy didn’t come all the way with her, +why he minded those old Vandemeeters, getting a thought +of his reasons into her soul, comparing them with all +her father had said, resolving to try again, and saying +over as she entered her own gate. “Spinach! Spinach! +How I hate it!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The spring deepened into summer and school had +closed. Athalie felt lost. Her father was immersed in +his book and had little time for golf. Mary Truman and +her mother and brother had gone away to the mountains +for a month, several of the other girls were visiting relatives +in the country or at the seashore, or taking little +trips. She had to stay around the house and garden. +Always there was Silver everywhere in the way. She did +not get any nearer to Silver.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Barry came one day and took Silver away in the +minister’s car to see a sick child two miles out of town. +The minister had sent for her to come and bring some +broth. They all came home together with a sheaf of +golden rod and got out with much laughter and chatter. +Athalie from the upper window watched them. There +was a look in Bannard’s eyes as he helped Silver from +the car that made her suddenly feel all alone in the world. +Barry too! He came in after them carrying flowers. +Silver had a heap of velvet moss in her hands dotted with +scarlet berries. She was carrying it carefully. The minister +put out his hand to catch a falling spray of the vine +whereon the berries grew. Barry was close, with deep +admiration in his face. He answered something Silver +said and flashed his beautiful smile. Silver on the step +above him broke a tiny spray of golden rod from the armful +he had just handed her and stooping fastened it in his +buttonhole. She could not hear the byplay of words that +went with the act, she could only see the flush of pleasure +on Barry’s face, the tender smile on Bannard’s, Silver’s +look of utter joy and content. A pang of jealousy like to +none she had ever felt before shot through her undisciplined +heart. Her face was almost distorted with hate, and the +red hot tears went coursing down her face so that she +could not see Barry and the minister as they went back +to the car. They had not asked for her. They had not +either of them suggested that she go along. If Barry had +done so when he came for Silver she would have gone. +This once she would have gone, if just to keep Silver from +riding in the front seat with Barry. But Barry had not +asked it. Barry had not cared about anything except just +to make her safe for her father’s sake, and to make her get +thin, so her father would be pleased. Nobody cared for +her!</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Her young lonely soul raged fiercely within, going +over and over the doleful situation, until she scarcely knew +what she was doing, and suddenly a gentle hand touched +her on the shoulder.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Athalie, dear! You are crying! Is there anything +I can do to help you?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>It was Silver in her white dress with her arms full of +golden rod, come softly up the stairs on her rubber shod +feet, and finding Athalie still at the hall window.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie turned in a fury of anger to be caught this +way, and shook off the gentle hand.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Don’t you dare to touch me!” she hissed. “I <span class='it'>hate</span> +you!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Athalie!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Yes, <span class='it'>Athalie</span>!” mocked the angry girl. “You mealy-mouthed +hypocrite! You liar! You thief! That’s it! +You are a <span class='it'>thief</span>!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Athalie, what has got into you?” asked Silver in +dismay. “What on earth can you mean? What have I +done to annoy you?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie had not been in such a fury since the night she +spoiled the painting. She was simply blind with rage.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Done! done!” she screamed, “it isn’t enough that +you stole my father away. Stole him! Stole him! You +had no right to him! He gave you away, and you had +your home, and you had people that loved you! You had +a grandfather and grandmother. I never had any grandfather +or grandmother or anybody. My mother never +loved me!” Her tone was growing higher and more +excited. The pent up anguish of the weeks was breaking +forth in a flood. Silver lifted up a hand and tried to +make her listen, but she rushed on in a torrent of words.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“She went away and left me to come here alone. She +hasn’t written to me. She doesn’t love me. And I came +here to find a father. I would have made him love me. +Yes, I could, if you hadn’t poked your nose in and got +ahead of me. You had no right. He had given you up. +You thought just because you had that old Silver name—”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Athalie!” said Silver compassionately, but Athalie +was beyond hearing.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Don’t speak to me. <span class='it'>I hate you!</span>” she raved on. “It +wasn’t enough that you stole my father, and the house, +and are trying to get the money and Mr. Bannard, but +you have to steal my only friend!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Her head went down on the window frame and she +sobbed aloud.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“What do you mean, Athalie? I haven’t stolen any +friend away from you!” said Silver in a puzzled indignant +voice.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Yes, you have. You’ve stolen Barry. He was nice +to me. He brought me back when I was going to run +away and get married!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Athalie!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, you needn’t Athalie me! I guess I could have +done it if I wanted to, and now I wish I had. I would +have got out of this old hole anyway. Isn’t Mr. Bannard +enough for you? Why can’t you let Barry alone? You +pretend to be so loving and all, calling me <span class='it'>dear</span>, and all +that mush, and yet you spoil every nice time I try to have. +It was you spoiled my house party! You can’t deny that! +And you’re at the bottom of my having to wear frumpy +old-fashioned clothes. If you hadn’t come here dressed +like a mouse my father wouldn’t have known the difference. +He just wants me to dress like you, and I won’t! +So there! But I won’t stand your making eyes at everybody +that likes me either. Look how you did when I had +the house party! Carried all the boys off downstairs and +flirted with them. Got everyone of them crazy about you. +Oh, but the girls were furious about that.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Under the torrent of words which she could not stay +Silver suddenly collapsed into a chair and dropped her face +into her hands.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, yes! That makes you ashamed doesn’t it? You +don’t like it put like that. Well, why can’t you marry +somebody and get away? I’ve been waiting and waiting for +you and Mr. Bannard to get things fixed up so you would +get out of the house and let me have a real home for once +in my life.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Silver lifted a white face and listened sternly.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Athalie! Stop! You mustn’t say such things. They +are disgraceful. The neighbors will hear!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I don’t care if they do! I hope they will!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Athalie, if you will stop I will go away!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, go, go! Why don’t you go then? You don’t +mean it at all, you know you don’t. You intend to stay +right here and spoil my life. I came here to try and get +my father to marry my mother over again. She didn’t +know it, but I’ve always wanted to do that. I’ve always +wanted a home like other girls and a real father and +mother! And then when I got here I found you! What +good do you suppose it would do me to get my father to +see my mother again while you were here? She wouldn’t +come here with you! She would hate you too, worse than +I do. She would smile and do something terrible to you. +That’s Lilla! But she would never come here with you +here! Oh I shall never have a real home nor anybody that +loves me!” She suddenly broke away from the window +with a wild sob and darted toward the door of her own +room.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Silver turned putting out her arms to try and stop her.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Athalie! Let me speak! I will go! I did not understand +before.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>But Athalie broke away fiercely.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, <span class='it'>go</span> then!” she shouted and slammed her door +so that it reverberated through the house like thunder.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Down in the kitchen Anne Truesdale and Molly stopped +working and looked at one another anxiously.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“It’s Miss Athalie got one of her tantrums again!” +said Molly in an awed whisper.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, the master’s coming home early tonight, praise +be!” said Anne, and tiptoed to the door to listen. But +all was still up stairs.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Silver was in her room with the door shut, kneeling +beside her bed.</p> + +<h2>XXVIII</h2> + +<p class='pindent'>The tramp was not working that afternoon. He was +recovering from a three days’ vacation he had taken in +the city following the weekly pay day. He sat in the door +a long time looking down toward the village and hating +the world. He always took it out in hating the world +when he was out of condition. He had a settled conviction +that the world owed him a living.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He looked as usual toward the Silver house with jealous +eyes and began to calculate as he had often done before, +how many millions they must have and what he could +do if he had only a small portion of their wealth. And as +before he began to work at a plan that had for a long +time been maturing in his brain. He had worked it out +link by link till he had all the details perfect up to a +certain point. There he always had to stop. He never +could quite get beyond that missing link. He always +thought if he could just think a little harder it would come +to him, that missing link, but as yet it had not come.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>And now he felt sick and sore from the three days’ +debauch and the fire was out and there wasn’t a bit of +food in his lair, neither was there wood to cook any food +if he had any.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He stirred his stiffened limbs and got himself to his +feet shivering from sheer revolt against life. He knew +that the afternoon was waning and that he must go soon +to get wood or there would be no way to get supper, and +supper he must have if he was to go to work in the +morning. And to work he must go if he were to live +longer, because his last cent was spent and bacon cost +money. They were not trusting tramps for bacon and +tea in Silver Sands.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>So down the mountain he trudged, gathering wood +slowly in little heaps by the way to be gathered up on +his return trip. He must go trim that hedge of Truman’s +and that would bring him enough for sugar and butter +and all that he needed that night. Then on his return +he would gather up the wood and have a little comfort +out of life. Strange that with such a life he could still +gather comfort from it. And Athalie Greeves in the fine +Silver house wept because there was nothing left for her +in life!</p> + +<p class='pindent'>It was ten minutes to five when he returned with his +sugar and bacon and cheese. He hadn’t cut the hedge +very well, but Mrs. Truman had been having a missionary +meeting and hadn’t come out to see. She had sent the +money out to him before he had quite finished and he +lost no time in getting down to the store. His inner man +required immediate refreshment.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>So he sat down in a sheltered spot not far from the +road to eat a snack to stay him before he should gather +up his wood. And suddenly his slow jaws lagged and +moved slower, and his little eyes peered cunningly between +the bushes, and his ears pricked up and listened, for down +the road in the distance he saw the missing link in the +well forged chain of his plans, approaching, and with +eager caution and much peering he stowed away his bundles +under the leaves and moved down to a more convenient +station nearer the road where he could watch and be +ready for the right moment.</p> + +<hr class='tbk'/> + +<p class='pindent'>Silver had risen from her knees with a face in which +sorrow and purpose were having their way. She went +straight to her desk and drawing pen and paper toward +her began to write rapidly.</p> + +<div class='blockquote'> + +<p class='noindent'>“Dear Athalie:—</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I have been praying ever since I came that you +and I might learn to love one another and be real sisters. +I have always wanted a sister. But I see that I was mistaken +and that cannot be. So I am going away at once +to show you that I really wanted to love you. I haven’t +wanted to hurt you in any way, nor to steal father or +anybody or anything away from you. You said a good +many things in your excitement that hurt me, but perhaps +you won’t remember them when you get calmer. I want +you to know that I forgive you, and want you to be happy. +As you say, I have had a happy home and you haven’t. +Besides I am the older and ought to go if one of us must, +so it is all right. Only if I go, Athalie, please make father +happy. He is lonely too. And I shall always pray that +God will give you joy.</p> + +<p class='line' style='text-align:left;margin-left:9em;'>Sincerely, Silver.”</p> + +</div> + +<p class='pindent'>She folded it and wrote “Athalie” across the back +then drew more paper toward her and began again. This +one was harder to write. It began:</p> + +<div class='blockquote'> + +<p class='noindent'>“Dear Father:—</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Something has happened since you went to the city +this morning that has made me know that it is not right +for me to stay with you any longer. Not now, anyway. +You know how sorry I am about it, but I feel this is the +only thing to do, so I am going to do it quickly before you +return. That will be easier for us both. I have not time +to tell you all it has meant to be with you, to know I have +a father, and to be sure I have your love. I shall be rich +in that knowledge always now wherever I am, but I feel +that Athalie needs you more than I do, and that you never +can be everything to each other while I stay. You will +see it this way too after a little and know that I did right. +Perhaps some day it will be right for me to come back, +and then I shall return with joy. Now I am going away +and I am not going to tell you where just yet for I am +not quite sure of my plans, but as soon as I am located +I will send for my trunk which I will leave packed and +ready, and then perhaps you will write and tell me you +forgive me for going away without seeing you. I just +felt that I could not quite bear the good-bye, precious +father! I love you. Don’t feel bad. Love Athalie.</p> + +<p class='line' style='text-align:left;margin-left:9em;'>Silver-Alice.”</p> + +</div> + +<p class='pindent'>Silver paused a moment to wipe away the tears that +would gather in her eyes as she wrote the words that +meant so much to her, then she began another note.</p> + +<div class='blockquote'> + +<p class='noindent'>“My dear Mr. Bannard:—</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I am writing in great haste and dismay to let you +know that I cannot fulfill my promise to go with you to +the orchestra concert in the city tomorrow because I find +that I must suddenly go away. It is a deep disappointment +to me for I had looked forward to the pleasure +eagerly. I cannot tell you what pleasure I have found in +our work among the little children on the Flats, nor how +disappointed I am that I shall not be able to carry out +our plans for this winter. I am not sure how long I shall +have to stay. It may be quite a while. It is hard for +me to have to go, and to go thus suddenly without bidding +my new friends good-bye, but I know I am right in going +at once.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>I thank you for what your friendship and your sermons +have meant to me while I was here, and I hope that some +day I may have the pleasure of seeing you again.</p> + +<p class='line' style='text-align:left;margin-left:9em;'>Very Sincerely, Silver Greeves.”</p> + +</div> + +<p class='pindent'>This letter she sealed, addressed and stamped and put +in her pocket. Then she arose and quickly folded her garments +from the closet, laying them in her trunk, opened +drawers and boxes and stowed everything away with +expedition. There was not very much for she had not +brought a great deal when she came. In her little suitcase +she put the few things of immediate necessity, locking +her trunk, put on her hat, and a long silk wrap over her +simple dark china-silk frock and taking her suitcase slipped +across the hall with her letters. Her father’s she laid on +his chiffonier where he would be sure to see it as soon as +he came in, and Athalie’s she slipped softly under her +door. It was all still in the hall when she went down. She +longed to speak to Anne and Molly before she left but +knew she might upset all her plans if she did, so she went +swiftly out the door.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, now, where’s she going?” announced grandma +from her window, “a suitcase in her hand too! And +this time of day!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Maybe she’s taking her suit down to the cleaners,” +suggested Pristina.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“They would send for it if she phoned,” said Harriet.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, she’s pretty independent. She doesn’t take +any rich folks airs on herself,” said Cornelia. “I wonder +why they never go together. They’re not so far apart +in age.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>When Silver reached the station she found that the +next train to the city did not stop at Silver Sands, being +an express, its only stop was at the Junction two miles +below.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Looking at her watch she found that there was plenty of +time to walk it. She knew the way well for she had driven +there several times with Mr. Bannard. She mailed her +letter to Bannard at the station and took the back street +for several blocks to avoid the centre of the town as she +did not care to be noticed in this sudden flight.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>When she came to the last cross street she turned into +the main road again and crossed the bridge. She hoped with +all her heart that Bannard would not happen to be out in his +car and come across her. She felt she could not bear that. +But if he did she would just have to tell him how things +were. She somehow felt sure she could make him understand.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>But nobody came along to disturb the afternoon peace. +The white road stretched like a ribbon ahead under arching +trees, the crickets sang under the browning golden rod, +a cicada grated out his raucous voice, the wild asters, white +and pink and blue and yellow nodded in the soft breeze +with their first opening clusters of stars, and yellow butterflies +whirled dreamily, lighting in the dusty grass by the +roadside. It was beautiful and still. It looked so dear. +She could not believe she was going away from it all, out +into the world alone. Her soul cried out to return, to +destroy her notes and unlock her trunk and try to make +some other finish to this day that had begun so gorgeously +and was ending so sorrowfully. But something drove +her feet forward in the way, and she passed on around the +curve of the road till Silver Sands and the way to the Flats +were out of sight and the tears were blinding her eyes so +that she could not see ahead.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Good-bye, dear home!” she whispered softly to +herself. And then just ahead of her, an old man hurried +hobbling into the road and waved his hand.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, lady, lady! I’m so glad you come by. There’s +a little child up there in that shanty dying I’m feered. It +fell over the rocks an’ broke its leg, an’ done somepin to +its insides I guess, an’ I’m runnin’ to get the doctor. Won’t +you just go up there lady and stay with the baby till I +git back? I sha’n’t be five minutes. I just cantta bear to +leave it all alone.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Silver looked at her watch and glanced up the hill. +There was plenty of time if the man hurried, even if it +took him ten minutes, for the train did not leave the Junction +till ten minutes of five and it was just as well that +she should not get there till train time, lest someone might +see her.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Yes,” she said, “but hurry! I must make my train.” +Then she turned and began swiftly to climb the hill while +the old man began to run stiffly down the road.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The hill was steeper than she thought and the suitcase +heavy but she managed to reach the little hovel in +very good time, and stepping inside, rubbed her eyes to +get the sunshine out for the room seemed very dark. She +put down her suitcase and began groping across to find +the child, pausing a moment to get used to the dark, when +suddenly she felt the door shut behind her with a slam +and something like a key turning in a lock.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>In horror she rushed back, almost falling over her +suitcase, and groped for the knob, but there was none. +The door was fast, and when she pounded on it there were +only hollow reverberations. It was so still in the little place +that it did not seem possible that there could be anyone +else in the room, even a dying child. Perhaps it was dead +already. She felt so alone. Her heart was beating wildly. +She tried to tell herself that of course the door had blown +shut and a night latch had fastened it, but a night latch +usually opened from the inside. It must be she would be +able to find a knob when she grew calmer and could see +better. She groped back to the door and tried once more, +but with no better success. The door seemed smooth all +over and fitted close. There was no crack for light to +come in. Was that a step outside? No, she must have +been mistaken. And yet—how strange! She had seen +the man run down the road! But the child! She ought to +be attending to it! Could it be that she had got into the +wrong place? Were there two buildings on the hill? +Should she cry out for assistance? It was not far from +the road. Someone would be passing soon. Surely there +was no need for her to be frightened. The old man would +soon return with the doctor and then she would be set free.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>She remembered her little pocket flash that she always +carried in her handbag. She tried to find it and at last +located it and touched the spring. The ray of light revealed +the bare stone walls, the rude box, and huddled leaves, the +empty fireplace, the frying pan, and cup, and a crust of dry +bread. There was no child anywhere.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>She examined the window carefully and found it +firmly sealed. There seemed to be no implement with +which she might attempt to break it open. She swept the +room with the light and saw no possible way to get out. +Her heart was fluttering so that her breath was labored.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Help me, O Christ! Steady me! Show me a way to +get out of here before it is too late!” she prayed. Then she +advanced to the fireplace and turned the flash upward. The +rough sooty stones loomed above her in irregular knobs, +jogging out here and there, and above them, in the +brilliancy of the speck of light, a branch of a tree, thick +with leaves, waved backward and forward.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“There is always a way up,” came the words in memory +from some famous story or sermon, she could not +tell which, but it thrilled her soul. It was not far to +the branch. Could she make it, up the slippery, cobbled +way? Was the space big enough? Could she get her +suitcase out too? She measured the distance with her +eye, noted the stones that stuck out. Would they bear +her? But how could she climb with a suitcase? Yet she +must have it if possible. There was a bolt of blue ribbon +in her suitcase, a whole ten yards. Was it strong enough +to hold the suitcase if she tied the other end around her +waist and then pulled it up after her? And supposing she +made the top of the chimney, could she climb down without +breaking her neck? Well, it would be better there out +in God’s open than shut in this dark place where no one +could see her or hear her and perhaps she could climb the +tree. As for the suitcase she would do her best and then +let it go if she had to. But she must get out of here before +that man returned if he was the instigator of some intention +against her. If it was only some mistake of a dead-latch +she must find the child. It even now might be crying +with fear. She must work fast in any case.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>She hurried back to her suitcase, searched out the +ribbon, tied one end firmly to the handle, the other round +her waist. Put her purse inside the neck of her dress, +turned her wrap inside out and tied it firmly over her head +and shoulders to protect hat and dress as much as possible, +and flash in hand began her perilous climb. It was a narrow +place to squeeze through. She put her suitcase up +a couple of feet and rested it on a ledge, supporting it with +one hand as she climbed, setting a foot here on a projecting +stone, putting a hand there in a crevice where the +crumbling plaster gave way before her touch. Slowly, +painfully, stopping for breath, cautious because one wrong +move might undo all, she crept on. Once she missed her +footing and the stone rolled down leaving her with only +one foot on a loose stone, and once the suitcase slipped off +suddenly jerking the ribbon around her waist and almost +bringing her down with it, but she caught herself in time, +and clinging to the wall prayed, “help me! Help me! O +Christ, give me strength! Give me steadiness!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>It was like those dreams that come sometimes, where +we find ourselves crawling through an endless tunnel that +grows smaller and smaller, and finally our strength gives +out, we collapse and are stuck fast. Two or three times +she thought she could not go on, and closed her eyes to +rest. She could not look up because the dust and soot +filled her eyes, so on and on she crept, coming to one +place so small she could just get her head through, and +was sure she could not go further, but finally managed to +wriggle through, with the dead weight of the suitcase +dangling after, hitting against the wall and bumping, impeding +her upward way. Perhaps after all she would have +to cut the ribbon and let it drop.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Help! Help! O Christ—” and the blessed breath +of air struck her face, and light. Real sunlight blinded +her eyes. She was out! She caught a firmer hold, and +just then the little flash light slipped away! She caught +at it and almost lost her own hold, but could not get it. +She heard it knock its way to the bottom of the hearth. +Well, what matter! She would not need it now. Then +she pulled herself free from the encasing wall and was +out, head and shoulders above the little hut.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>She paused to rest and look about. No, there was +no sign of any other building. No sound of crying child. +What did it mean? Down below she could see the road +and there was no pedestrian on it. An automobile swept by +going very fast, but it was not the doctor’s car. Fear +clutched her by the throat. She must get away at once.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>She writhed herself up out of the chimney. It proved +to be a mere knob above the low sloping roof. She had +a struggle with her suitcase and almost gave it up once, +but finally brought it forth, crushed at one side and badly +scratched, but still intact, and then it was a comparatively +easy thing to slide cautiously down the roof and drop +carefully to the ground.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>She was free! But she was trembling so that for a +moment she could not move. Her hands and face were +scratched and sooty, and her arms were bruised and sore. +She looked up at the blue sky and her heart said quickly +in a burst of joy, “Oh, thank you Christ!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Then new strength seemed to come, and breath, and +she flew away down the hill on the side where the undergrowth +was comparatively light, got into the highway, and +the sunshine, and saw that she was not pursued, gradually +grew steadier, and began to straighten her garments, wipe +off the soot and give more thanks to God. There was a +long strip torn out of her crêpe de chine dress from hem +to waist, an inch or two wide and left somewhere behind in +that chimney, but what did that matter? She was free. +Her shoes were scratched and dusty and not fit for a +lady to take a journey anywhere in, but that was a small +matter. One glove was split from wrist to finger and the +other entirely gone, but what were gloves in a lifetime! +She was on the road, some road. It did not look familiar +and perhaps coming down this side of the hill she had +missed her way, but there would be a train sometime, somewhere, +and she would find it. God had set her free, and +now she knew she had done right in coming away. God +had helped her on and not let her be hindered to make +a lot of trouble for everybody. She would be able to get +to her destination and write back in due time to set her +father’s mind at rest. Then all would be well.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Half an hour’s walk brought her to a small hamlet, +but it was not the Junction. She had missed her way +and missed her train, but they told her that a trolley line +passed half a mile below and the cars ran every half hour. +They would take her to her destination in less than two +hours, and what did it matter? She lifted up her tired +head, and went forward.</p> + +<h2>XXIX</h2> + +<p class='pindent'>Greeves came home an hour earlier than he had planned, +with it in mind to take the young people all into town to +a concert that he had unexpectedly discovered. He stepped +into the pantry and told Anne to have dinner ready by +quarter to six if possible, and then up to his room to wash +his hands and make one or two changes in his toilet.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>No one seemed to be about though the doors of both +the girls’ rooms were closed. They were probably dressing +for dinner or resting. There was time enough. He +would not disturb them for another half hour. He stepped +to his chiffonier and there lay Silver’s letter. He read it +quickly with a fear at his heart, and then again. Then +tearing down to the library wildly he took up the telephone +and called up the station. No, Miss Greeves had not taken a +train from there. She had come in and asked about the +train but when she found the next one only stopped at the +Junction she had gone out again. No, they hadn’t noticed +which way she went. They were busy with some freight +and they couldn’t stop to watch every female that came +into that station anyhow, they were busy men, they were.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Patterson Greeves slammed the receiver on, and stared +at the wall. What was he to do next? She had taken a +car to the city probably. He called up the garage. No, +they had not even seen her. Bannard? Perhaps Bannard +had taken her. He would find out if Aunt Katie knew.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>But as he took up the receiver to phone, Bannard himself +walked into the room having been let in by Anne, an +open letter in his hand, his face white and questioning.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Has something happened Greeves? I just found this +in the post office. Has Sil—has Miss Greeves gone back +to her former home? What’s the matter?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Patterson Greeves turned a white, anxious face to the +minister. “Upon my soul, Bannard, I don’t know what’s +the matter! I just got this myself,” and he handed over +his letter. “I suppose it’s another outbreak of that other +devilish child of mine!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Perhaps Anne will know.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He rang and Anne appeared.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Did Silver say anything about going out, Anne?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“No, master Pat. I think she’s in her room! I heard +her there a little while back.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“She’s not in her room, Anne. She’s gone!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Gone, master Pat! Gone! Oh, that can’t be! Why, +it’s not over an hour since she called to me something about +a package she’d left in my room, a collar she promised to +give me.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Well, she’s gone. Did anything happen, Anne? Anything +especially out of the way.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Miss Athalie,” Anne had her hand over her heart, +“I heard her crying and carrying on in one of her tantrums,” +she said anxiously.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“That’s it! I thought so! Silver has gone because +she thinks Athalie would be happier with her out of the +house. She wanted to go once before and I wouldn’t let +her. Oh, my God!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, master Pat, don’t be a swearin’ now, please. She +was that sweet a Christian. Surely she’ll come back.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Why certainly,” said Bannard eagerly, “we must find +her and bring her back. <span class='it'>I</span> will find her. Let me phone +for Barry to bring my car. He can take his car too. It +can’t surely take long to find her. She can’t have gone +far in this short time. What time did you say she spoke +to you Anne?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Suddenly they all became aware of Athalie standing +in the door, her face stained with tears and white with +recent emotion. A letter in her hand, a frightened look +in her eyes.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Is—Silver—here?” she asked in a scared little voice, +as she looked around the room.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Athalie had been growing taller lately, and had really +lost a good deal of flesh. And now as she stood and +watched them all as if she had heard what had been going +on she looked fairly fragile. Her father turned on her +with fury in his eyes.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“No, your sister is not here. You have driven her +away, you little devil! Get out of my sight. I never +want to look on your face again!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>With an awful cry like the rending of soul from +body, a continued cry that screeched through the house as +the scream of a moving locomotive through the night, +Athalie regarded her father for an instant and then turning +tore up the stairs screaming as she went. She flung herself +with a mighty thud upon her bed and went into raving +hysterics, but nobody paid the slightest attention to her. +Bannard and Greeves had gone out of the house to meet +the car, and Anne Truesdale was doing some telephoning +for which the master had left orders, a message to Silver’s +lawyer, another to the city station where she was to be +paged, a discreet word to the chief of police.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Barry met the two men half a block from the house +and waiting only for a brief explanation of what he was +wanted to do, went down the street on a dead run after +his own car. The Silver house grew silent as the dead +everywhere except in Athalie’s room where loud cries and +sobs continued to ring out, until grandma called:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Come here Pristina, don’t you hear something queer? +It sounds like some animal in distress.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Lizette Weldon hurried up the five stairs to her bay +window landing and turned her head from side to side to +try each ear and identify the voice. An hour later, Aunt +Katie, unable to stand it any longer quietly slipped through +the hedge with her smelling salts and asked Anne Truesdale +who was slamming things around in the dining room with +pursed angry lips and streaming eyes, if she might go up.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Please yerself!” said Anne, jerking a chair into +place. “She’s not worth it, the nasty little tyke! Let +her cry herself sick if she wants. She and I are two +people!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>So Aunt Katie went up with her smelling salts and +talked kindly in a low, soothing tone, but Athalie knocked +the bottle across the room and took on more wildly than +ever, and finally Aunt Katie departed with a sigh, saying +to Anne in the kitchen as she went out:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“The poor thing! The poor wilful thing!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>The weeping kept steadily on for an hour longer. Then +Anne’s patience gave out and she went up with a glass +of ice water and threw it in Athalie’s face, but the girl +only strangled and choked and cried on the harder, so +Anne went down, half frightened and wondered if she +ought not to call the doctor.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>But at last the sounds died away, and Lizette and the +Vandemeeters were able to get a little rest. It was growing +very late but Greeves and Bannard had not returned. +Anne sent Molly and Joe to bed, with instructions not to +undress, but be ready for any call, and herself put out +the lights and took up her watch by the front drawing +room window. Once she thought she saw a face peering +round the lilac bush, but she knew it must be her eyes +after all the excitement so she put the thought away. By +and by she dozed off and the town slept.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>When the morning dawned and the sun finally penetrated +the lilacs and shot into the drawing room window +Anne Truesdale sat up and blinked.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I must have dozed off,” she said shamedly to herself, +“I wonder if the master has come. I’ll just slip up +and see if that tyke is asleep.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>But when she reached Athalie’s room there was nobody +on the bed. With a growing fear she hurried from room +to room, thinking perhaps she had changed her bed as +once before, but found no sign of her and on the pillow in +her father’s room was a little blistered note dramatically +left open written large.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Dear Dad: I’ve gone to find my sister. I won’t come +back without her. I’m sorry. Athalie.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>When Greeves read that, a few minutes later, having +come in with Bannard after an all night fruitless search, +he sank his haggard face in his hands and dropped into +the nearest chair.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“My God! What have I done to deserve this?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Dearie, dearie,” said Anne to Molly, “he’s swearin’ +again. I guess mebbe there’s a pair of ’em. Mebbe she +mightn’t to be so much to blame after all, takin’ after him +as she does.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>In the library the tray of breakfast that Anne had +brought stood untouched.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“What shall I do, Bannard? What shall I do? I +have lost them both—!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I tell you, man, you must pray! If you ever prayed +you must pray now. Get down on your knees quick and +tell the Lord you’re a sinner. He’s the only one can +straighten this out.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>And Patterson Greeves dropped down on his knees +and prayed:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Lord I have sinned! I have sinned against Thee +and against both my children. It is right I should be +punished but don’t let them suffer. O Lord, forgive and +help and save—!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>And while he prayed, the telephone rang. Bannard +answered it.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Is that you, father?” a sweet voice called that thrilled +him with its familiarity.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, Silver is that you? Are you all right?” said +Bannard his whole soul in his voice, and knew not that +he had called her by her dear name.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Yes, your father is here. We have searched all night +for you. Your father is quite broken by anxiety. Is +Athalie with you? Yes, she’s gone. She apparently went +sometime in the night. She left a note saying she had +gone to find you and would not come home without you.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Oh, the dear child! I’ll come right home. I just got +the message father phoned to the lawyer. I’m sorry I’ve +caused so much trouble.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Where are you now? The city? Good. There’s +a train in a few minutes that doesn’t come through. You +take it and I’ll meet you at the Junction with the car.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Barry had come in while the conversation was going on +and he turned a startled face to Anne in the doorway.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Athalie gone?” he asked. “Aw, <span class='it'>gee</span>!”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Anne handed him the note that Greeves had dropped +on the floor. He read it with softening eyes, then turned +to Anne and said in a low tone:</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Say, you get me a shoe or something of hers. I’ve +got the dog here. He’s good on following a scent. I’ll +see what I can do.”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Anne obeyed and Barry departed with instructions for +Anne to tell Bannard when he had finished telephoning.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Greeves was still upon his knees, his face buried in his +hands. Bannard stepped over and put his hand upon the +man’s shoulder.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“Silver is found,” he said gently, “she’s coming right +home on the next train. I’m to meet her at the Junction. +Will you go with me?”</p> + +<p class='pindent'>He had forgotten for the moment that Athalie was +gone.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Greeves roused and stood up, his face white and deeply +marked. There were tears upon his cheeks.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>“I must go and find my other girl,” he said hurriedly, +“my poor wronged child!”</p> + +<hr class='pbk'/> + +<h3>TRANSCRIBER NOTES</h3> + +<p class='pindent'>Misspelled words and printer errors have been corrected. Where multiple spellings occur, majority use has been employed.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>Punctuation has been maintained except where obvious printer errors occur.</p> + +<p class='pindent'>When nested quoting was encountered, nested double quotes were changed to single quotes.</p> + +<p class='line' style='text-align:center;'>[The end of <span class='it'>Tomorrow About This Time</span> by Grace Livingston Hill]</p> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 79299 ***</div> +</body> +<!-- created with fpgen.py 4.67d on 2026-08-07 17:54:51 GMT --> +</html> diff --git a/79299-h/images/cover.jpg b/79299-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..303605f --- /dev/null +++ b/79299-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/79299-h/images/title.jpg b/79299-h/images/title.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6924181 --- /dev/null +++ b/79299-h/images/title.jpg diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6c72794 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This book, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7f757dc --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1 @@ +[Project Gutenberg](https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for eBook [#79299](https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/79299) |
