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diff --git a/old/904-0.txt b/old/904-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4c9e69c --- /dev/null +++ b/old/904-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,13967 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Her Father's Daughter, by Gene Stratton-Porter + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Her Father's Daughter + +Author: Gene Stratton-Porter + +Posting Date: July 26, 2008 [EBook #904] +Release Date: May, 1997 +Last Updated: March 9, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HER FATHER'S DAUGHTER *** + + + + +Produced by Dianne Bean + + + + + +HER FATHER'S DAUGHTER + +By Gene Stratton-Porter + + + +Contents + + I. “What Kind of Shoes Are the Shoes You Wear?” + II. Cotyledon of Multiflores Canyon + III. The House of Dreams + IV. Linda Starts a Revolution + V. The Smoke of Battle + VI. Jane Meredith + VII. Trying Yucca + VIII. The Bear Cat + IX. One Hundred Per Cent Plus + X. Katy to the Rescue + XI. Assisting Providence + XII. The Lay of the Land + XIII. Leavening the Bread of Life + XIV. Saturday's Child + XV. Linda's Hearthstone + XVI. Producing the Evidence + XVII. A Rock and a Flame + XVIII. Spanish Iris + XIX. The Official Bug-Catcher + XX. The Cap Sheaf + XXI. Shifting the Responsibility + XXII. The End of Marian's Contest + XXIII. The Day of Jubilee + XXIV. Linda's First Party + XXV. Buena Moza + XXVI. A Mouse Nest + XXVII. The Straight and Narrow + XXVIII. Putting It Up to Peter + XXIX. Katy Unburdens Her Mind + XXX. Peter's Release + XXXI. The End of Donald's Contest + XXXII. How the Wasp Built Her Nest + XXXIII. The Lady of the Iris + + + + +List of Characters + + LINDA STRONG, Her Father's Daughter + DR. ALEXANDER STRONG, a Great Nerve Specialist + MRS. STRONG, His Wife + EILEEN STRONG, Having + Social Aspirations + MR. AND MRS. THORNE, Neighbors of the Strongs + MARIAN THORNE, a Dreamer of Houses + JOHN GILMAN, a Man of Law + PETER MORRISON, an Author + HENRY ANDERSON, an Architect + DONALD WHITING, a High School Senior + MARY LOUISE WHITING, His Sister + JUDGE AND MRS. WHITING, a Man of Law and a Woman of Culture + KATHERINE O' DONOVAN, the Strong Cook + OKA SAYYE, a High School Senior + JAMES HEITMAN, Accidentally Rich + MRS. CAROLINE HEITMAN, His Wife + + + + +CHAPTER I. “What Kind of Shoes Are the Shoes You Wear?” + +“What makes you wear such funny shoes?” + +Linda Strong thrust forward a foot and critically examined the narrow +vamp, the projecting sole, the broad, low heel of her well-worn brown +calfskin shoe. Then her glance lifted to the face of Donald Whiting, one +of the most brilliant and popular seniors of the high school. Her eyes +narrowed in a manner habitual to her when thinking intently. + +“Never you mind my shoes,” she said deliberately. “Kindly fix your +attention on my head piece. When you see me allowing any Jap in my class +to make higher grades than I do, then I give you leave to say anything +you please concerning my head.” + +An angry red rushed to the boy's face. It was an irritating fact that in +the senior class of that particular Los Angeles high school a Japanese +boy stood at the head. This was embarrassing to every senior. + +“I say,” said Donald Whiting, “I call that a mean thrust.” + +“I have a particular reason,” said Linda. + +“And I have 'a particular reason',” said Donald, “for being interested +in your shoes.” + +Linda laughed suddenly. When Linda laughed, which was very seldom, those +within hearing turned to look at her. Hers was not a laugh that can be +achieved. There were a few high places on the peak of Linda's soul, and +on one of them homed a small flock of notes of rapture; notes as sweet +as the voice of the white-banded mockingbird of Argentina. + +“How surprising!” exclaimed Linda. “We have been attending the same +school for three years; now, you stop me suddenly to tell me that you +are interested in the shape of my shoes.” + +“I have been watching them all the time,” said Donald. “Can't understand +why any girl wants to be so different. Why don't you dress your hair the +same as the other girls and wear the same kind of clothes and shoes?” + +“Now look here,” interposed Linda “You are flying the track.I am willing +to justify my shoes, if I can, but here you go including my dress and a +big psychological problem, as well; but I think perhaps the why of the +shoes will explain the remainder. Does the name 'Alexander Strong' mean +anything to you?” + +“The great nerve specialist?” asked Donald. + +“Yes,” said Linda. “The man who was the author of half-dozen books +that have been translated into many foreign tongue' and are used as +authorities all over the world. He happened to be my father There are +two children in our family. I have a sister four years older than I am +who is exactly like Mother, and she and Mother were inseparable. I am +exactly like Father; because we understood each other, and because both +of us always new, although we never mentioned it; that Mother preferred +my sister Eileen to me, Father tried to make it up to me, so from the +time I can remember I was at his heels. It never bothered him to have me +playing around in the library while he was writing his most complicated +treatise. I have waited in his car half a day at a time, playing or +reading, while he watched a patient or delivered a lecture at some +medical college. His mental relaxation was to hike or to motor to the +sea, to the mountains, to the canyons or the desert, and he very seldom +went without me even on long trips when he was fishing or hunting with +other men. There was not much to know concerning a woman's frame or he +psychology that Father did not know, so there were two reason why he +selected my footwear as he did. One was because he be believed high +heels and pointed toes an outrage against the nervous province, and the +other was that I could not possibly have kept pace with him except in +shoes like these. No doubt, they are the same kind I shall wear all my +life, for walking. You probably don't know it, but my home lies near the +middle of Lilac Valley and I walk over a mile each morning and evening +to and from the cars. Does this sufficiently explain my shoes?” + +“I should think you'd feel queer,” said Donald. + +“I suspect I would if I had time to brood over it,” Linda replied, “but +I haven't. I must hustle to get to school on time in the morning. It's +nearly or quite dark before I reach home in the evening. My father +believed in having a good time. He had superb health, so he spent most +of what he made as it came to him. He counted on a long life. It never +occurred to him that a little piece of machinery going wrong would +plunge him into Eternity in a second.” + +“Oh, I remember!” cried the boy. + +Linda's face paled slightly. + +“Yes,” she said, “it happened four years ago and I haven't gotten away +from the horror of it yet, enough ever to step inside of a motor car; +but I am going to get over that one of these days. Brakes are not all +defective, and one must take one's risks.” + +“You just bet I would,” said Donald. “Motoring is one of the greatest +pleasures of modern life. I'll wager it makes some of the gay old boys, +like Marcus Aurelius for example, want to turn over in their graves when +they see us flying along the roads of California the way we do.” + +“What I was getting at,” said Linda, “was a word of reply to the +remainder of your indictment against me. Dad's income stopped with him, +and household expenses went on, and war came, so there isn't enough +money to dress two of us as most of the high school girls are dressed. +Eileen is so much older that it's her turn first, and I must say she is +not at all backward about exercising her rights. I think that will +have to suffice for the question of dress but you may be sure that I am +capable of wearing the loveliest dress imaginable, that would be for a +school girl, if I had it to wear.” + +“Ah, there's the little 'fly in your ointment'--'dress that would be +suitable.' I bet in your heart you think the dresses that half the girls +in high school are wearing are NOT SUITABLE!” + +“Commendable perspicacity, O learned senior,” said Linda, “and amazingly +true. In the few short years I had with Daddy I acquired a fixed idea as +to what kind of dress is suitable and sufficiently durable to wear while +walking my daily two miles. I can't seem to become reconciled to the +custom of dressing the same for school as for a party. You get my idea?” + +“I get it all right enough,” said Donald, “but I must think awhile +before I decide whether I agree with you. Why should you be right, and +hundreds of other girls be wrong?” + +“I'll wager your mother would agree with me,” suggested Linda. + +“Did yours?” asked Donald. + +“Halfway,” answered Linda. “She agreed with me for me, but not for +Eileen.” + +“And not for my sister,” said Donald. “She wears the very foxiest +clothes that Father can afford to pay for, and when she was going to +school she wore them without the least regard as to whether she was +going to school or to a tea party or a matinee. For that matter she +frequently went to all three the same day. + +“And that brings us straight to the point concerning you,” said Linda. + +“Sure enough!” said Donald. “There is me to be considered! What is it +you have against me?” + +Linda looked at him meditatively. + +“You SEEM exceptionally strong,” she said. “No doubt are good in +athletics. Your head looks all right; it indicates brains. What I want +to know is why in the world you don't us them.” + +“What are you getting at, anyway?” asked Donald, with more than a hint +of asperity in his voice. + +“I am getting at the fact,” said Linda, “that a boy as big as you and as +strong as you and with as good brain and your opportunity has allowed +a little brown Jap to cross the Pacific Ocean and a totally strange +country to learn a language foreign to him, and, and, with the same +books and the same chances, to beat you at your own game. You and every +other boy in your classes ought to thoroughly ashamed of yourselves. +Before I would let a Jap, either boy or girl, lead in my class, I would +give up going to school and go out and see if I could beat him growing +lettuce and spinach.” + +“It's all very well to talk,” said Donald hotly. + +“And it's better to make good what you say,” broke in Linda, with equal +heat. “There are half a dozen Japs in my classes but no one of them is +leading, you will notice, if I do wear peculiar shoes.” + +“Well, you would be going some if you beat the leading Jap in the senior +class,” said Donald. + +“Then I would go some,” said Linda. “I'd beat him, or I'd go straight up +trying. You could do it if you'd make up your mind to. The trouble with +you is that you're wasting your brain on speeding an automobile, on +dances, and all sorts of foolishness that is not doing you any good in +any particular way. Bet you are developing nerves smoking cigarettes. +You are not concentrating. Oka Sayye is not thinking of a thing except +the triumph of proving to California that he is head man in one of the +Los Angeles high schools. That's what I have got against you, and every +other white boy in your class, and in the long run it stacks up bigger +than your arraignment of my shoes.” + +“Oh, darn your shoes!” cried Donald hotly. “Forget 'em! I've got to move +on or I'll be late for trigonometry, but I don't know when I've had such +a tidy little fight with a girl, and I don't enjoy feeling that I have +been worsted. I propose another session. May I come out to Lilac +Valley Saturday afternoon and flay you alive to pay up for my present +humiliation?” + +“Why, if your mother happened to be motoring that way and would care to +call, I think that would be fine,” said Linda. + +“Well, for the Lord's sake!” exclaimed the irate senior. “Can't a fellow +come and fight with you without being refereed by his mother? Shall I +bring Father too?” + +“I only thought,” said Linda quietly, “that you would like your mother +to see the home and environment of any girl whose acquaintance you made, +but the fight we have coming will in all probability be such a pitched +battle that when I go over the top, you won't ever care to follow me and +start another issue on the other side. You're dying right now to ask why +I wear my hair in braids down my back instead of in cootie coops over my +ears.” + +“I don't give a hang,” said Donald ungallantly, “as to how you; wear +your hair, but I am coming Saturday to fight, and I don't think Mother +will take any greater interest in the matter than to know that I am +going to do battle with a daughter of Doctor I Strong.” + +“That is a very nice compliment to my daddy, thank you, said Linda, +turning away and proceeding in the direction of her own classrooms. +There was a brilliant sparkle in her eyes and she sang in a muffled +voice, yet distinctly enough to be heard: + +“The shoes I wear are common-sense shoes, And you may wear them if you +choose.” + +“By gracious! She's no fool,” he said to himself. In three minutes' +unpremeditated talk the “Junior Freak,” as he mentally denominated her, +had managed to irritate him, to puncture his pride, to entertain and +amuse him. + +“I wonder--” he said as he went his way; and all day he kept on +wondering, when he was not studying harder than ever before in all his +life. + +That night Linda walked slowly along the road toward home. She was +not seeing the broad stretch of Lilac Valley, on every hand green with +spring, odorous with citrus and wild bloom, blue walled with lacy lilacs +veiling the mountain face on either side; and she was not thinking +of her plain, well-worn dress or her common-sense shoes. What she was +thinking was of every flaying, scathing, solidly based argument she +could produce the following Saturday to spur Donald Whiting in some way +to surpass Oka Sayye. His chance remark that morning, as they stood near +each other waiting a few minutes in the hall, had ended in his asking to +come to see her, and she decided as she walked homeward that his first +visit in all probability would be his last, since she had not time to +spare for boys, when she had so many different interests involved; but +she did decide very finely in her own mind that the would make that +visit a memorable one for him. + +In arriving at this decision her mind traveled a number of devious +roads. The thought that she had been criticized did not annoy her as to +the kind of criticism, but she did resent the quality of truth about it. +She was right in following the rules her father had laid down for her +health and physical well-being, but was it right that she should wear +shoes scuffed, resoled, and even patched, when there was money enough +for Eileen to have many pairs of expensive laced boots, walking shoes, +and fancy slippers? She was sure she was right in wearing dresses +suitable for school, but was it right that she must wear them until +they were sunfaded, stained, and disreputable? Was it right that Eileen +should occupy their father and mother's suite, redecorated and daintily +furnished according to her own taste, to keep the parts of the house +that she cared to use decorated with flowers and beautifully appointed, +while Linda must lock herself in a small stuffy bedroom room, dingy and +none too comfortable, when in deference to her pride she wished to work +in secret until she learned whether she could succeed. + +Then she began thinking, and decided that the only available place in +the house for her use was the billiard room. She made up her mind that +she would demand the sole right to this big attic room. She would sell +the table and use the money to buy herself a suitable worktable and +a rug. She would demand that Eileen produce enough money for better +clothing for her, and then she remembered what she had said to Donald +Whiting about conquering her horror for a motor car. Linda turned in +at the walk leading to her home, but she passed the front entrance and +followed around to the side. As she went she could hear voices in the +living room and she knew that Eileen was entertaining some of her +many friends; for Eileen was that peculiar creature known as a social +butterfly. Each day of her life friends came; or Eileen went--mostly +the latter, for Eileen had a knack of management and she so managed +her friends that, without their realizing it, they entertained her many +times while she entertained them once. Linda went to the kitchen, Laid +her books and package of mail on the table, and, walking over to the +stove, she proceeded deliberately and heartily to kiss the cook. + +“Katy, me darlin',” she said, “look upon your only child. Do you notice +a 'lean and hungry look' on her classic features?” + +Katy turned adoring eyes to the young girl. + +“It's growing so fast ye are, childie,” she said. “It's only a little +while to dinner, and there's company tonight, so hadn't ye better wait +and not spoil your appetite with piecing?” + +“Is there going to be anything 'jarvis'?” inquired Linda. + +'“I'd say there is,” said Katy. “John Gilman is here and two friends of +Eileen's. It's a near banquet, lassie.” + +“Then I'll wait,” said Linda. “I want the keys to the garage.” + +Katy handed them to her and Linda went down the back walk beneath an +arch of tropical foliage, between blazing walls of brilliant flower +faces, unlocked the garage, and stood looking at her father's runabout. + +In the revolution that had taken place in their home after the passing +of their father and mother, Eileen had dominated the situation and done +as she pleased, with the exception of two instances. Linda had shown +both temper and determination at the proposal to dismantle the library +and dispose of the cars. She had told Eileen that she might take the +touring car and do as she pleased with it. For her share she wanted +her father's roadster, and she meant to have it. She took the same firm +stand concerning the Library. With the rest of the house Eileen might do +as she would. The library was to remain absolutely untouched and what it +contained was Linda's. To this Eileen had agreed, but so far Linda had +been content merely to possess her property. + +Lately, driven by the feeling that she must find a way in which she +could earn money, she had been secretly working on some plans that she +hoped might soon yield her small returns. As for the roadster, she as +well as Eileen had been horror-stricken when the car containing their +father and mother and their adjoining neighbors, Mr. and Mrs. Thorne, +driven by Marian Thorne, the playmate and companion from childhood +of the Strong girls, had become uncontrollable and plunged down the +mountain in a disaster that had left only Marian, protected by the +steering gear, alive. They had simply by mutual agreement begun using +the street cars when they wanted to reach the city. + +Linda stood looking at the roadster, jacked up and tucked under a +heavy canvas tent that she and her father had used on their hunting and +fishing trips. After a long time she laid strong hands on the canvas and +dragged it to one side. She looked the car over carefully and then, her +face very white and her hands trembling, she climbed into it and slowly +and mechanically went through the motions of starting it. For another +intent period she sat with her hands on the steering gear, staring +straight ahead, and then she said slowly: “Something has got to be done. +It's not going to be very agreeable, but I am going to do it. Eileen: +has had things all her own way long enough. I am getting such a big girl +I ought to have a few things in my life as I want them. Something must +be done.” + +Then Linda proceeded to do something. What she did was to lean forward, +rest her head upon the steering wheel and fight to keep down deep, +pitiful sobbing until her whole slender body twisted in the effort. + +She was yielding to a breaking up after four years of endurance, for the +greater part in silence. As the months of the past year had rolled their +deliberate way, Linda had begun to realize that the course her elder +sister had taken was wholly unfair to her, and slowly a tumult of revolt +was growing in her soul. Without a doubt the culmination had resulted +from her few minutes' talk with Donald Whiting in the hall that morning. +It had started Linda to thinking deeply, and the more deeply she thought +the clearly she saw the situation. Linda was a loyal soul and her heart +was honest. She was quite willing that Eileen should: exercise her +rights as head of the family, that she should take the precedence to +which she was entitled by her four years' seniority, that she should +spend the money which accrued monthly from their father's estate as she +saw fit, up to a certain point. That point was where things ceased to +be fair or to be just. If there had been money to do no more for Eileen +than had been done for Linda, it would not have been in Linda's heart +to utter a complaint. She could have worn scuffed shoes and old dresses, +and gone her way with her proud young head held very high and a jest on +her lips; but when her mind really fastened on the problem and she began +to reason, she could not feel that Eileen was just to her or that she +was fair in her administration of the money which should have been +divided more nearly equally between them, after the household expenses +had been paid. Once rebellion burned in her heart the flames leaped +rapidly, and Linda began to remember a thousand small things that she +had scarcely noted at the time of their occurrence. + +She was leaning on the steering wheel, tired with nerve strain, when she +heard Katy calling her, and realized that she was needed in the kitchen. +As a matter of economy Eileen, after her parents' passing, had dismissed +the housemaid, and when there were guests before whom she wished to make +a nice appearance Linda had been impressed either to wait on the table +or to help in the kitchen in order that Katy might attend the dining +room, so Linda understood what was wanted when Katy called her. She ran +her fingers over the steering wheel, worn bright by the touch of her +father's and her own hands, and with the buoyancy of youth, found +comfort. Once more she mechanically went through the motions of starting +the car, then she stepped down, closed the door, and stood an instant +thinking. + +“You're four years behind the times,” she said slowly. “No doubt there's +a newer and a better model; I suspect the tires are rotten, but the +last day I drove you for Daddy you purred like a kitten, and ran like +a clock, and if you were cleaned and oiled and put in proper shape, +there's no reason in the world why I should not drive you again, as I +have driven you hundreds of miles when Daddy was tired or when he wanted +to teach me the rules of good motoring, and the laws of the road. I can +do it all right. I have got to do it, but it will be some time before +I'll care to tackle the mountains.” + +Leaving the cover on the floor, she locked the door and returned to the +kitchen. + +“All right, Katy, what is the programme?” she inquired as lightly as she +could. + +Katy had been cook in the Strong family ever since they had moved to +Lilac Valley. She had obeyed Mrs. Strong and Eileen. She had worshiped +the Doctor and Linda It always had been patent to her eyes that Mrs. +Strong was extremely partial to Eileen, so Katy had joined forces with +the Doctor in surreptitiously doing everything her warm Irish heart +prompted to prevent Linda from feeling neglected. Her quick eyes saw the +traces of tears on Linda's face, and she instantly knew that the trip +the girl had made to the garage was in some way connected with some +belongings of her father's, so she said: “I am serving tonight but I +want you to keep things smoking hot and to have them dished up ready for +me so that everything will go smoothly.” + +“What would happen,” inquired Linda, “if everything did NOT go smoothly? +Katy, do you think the roof would blow straight up if I had MY way about +something, just for a change?” + +“No, I think the roof would stay right where it belongs,” said Katy with +a chuckle, “but I do think its staying there would not be because Miss +Eileen wanted it to.” + +“Well,” said Linda deliberately, “we won't waste any time on thinking +We are going to have some positive knowledge on the subject pretty +immediately. I don't feel equal to starting any domestic santana today, +but the forces are gathering and the blow is coming soon. To that I have +firmly made up my mind.” + +“It's not the least mite I'm blaming you, honey,” said Katy. + +“Ye've got to be such a big girl that it's only fair things in this +house should go a good deal different.” + +“Is Marian to be here?” asked Linda as she stood beside the stove +peering into pans and kettles. + +“Miss Eileen didn't say,” replied Katy. + +Linda's eyes reddened suddenly. She slammed down a lid with vicious +emphasis. + +“That is another deal Eileen's engineered,” she said, “that is just +about as wrong as anything possibly can be. What makes me the maddest +about it is that John Gilman will let Eileen take him by the nose and +lead him around like a ringed calf. Where is his common sense? Where is +his perception? Where is his honor?” + +“Now wait, dearie,” said Katy soothingly, “wait. John Gilman is a mighty +fine man. Ye know how your father loved him and trusted him and gave +him charge of all his business affairs. Ye mustn't go so far as to be +insinuating that he is lacking in honor.” + +“No,” said Linda, “that was not fair. I don't in the least know that he +ever ASKED Marian to marry him; but I do know that as long as he was a +struggling, threadbare young lawyer Marian was welcome to him, and they +had grand times together. The minute he won the big Bailey suit and came +into public notice and his practice increased until he was independent, +that minute Eileen began to take notice, and it looks to me now as if +she very nearly had him.” + +“And so far as I can see,” said Katy, “Miss Marian is taking it without +a struggle. She is not lifting a finger or making a move to win him +back.” + +“Of course she isn't!” said Linda indignantly. “If she thought he +preferred some other girl to her, she would merely say: 'If John has +discovered that he likes Eileen the better, why, that is all right; +but there wouldn't be anything to prevent seeing Eileen take John from +hurting like the deuce. Did you ever lose a man you loved, Katy?” + +“That I did not!” said Katy emphatically. “We didn't do any four or +five years' philanderin' to see if a man 'could make good' when I was a +youngster. When a girl and her laddie stood up to each other and looked +each other straight in the eye and had the great understanding, there +weren't no question of whether he could do for her what her father and +mither had been doing, nor of how much he had to earn before they would +be able to begin life together. They just caught hands and hot-footed it +to the praste and told him to read the banns the next Sunday, and when +the law allowed they was man and wife and taking what life had for them +the way it came, and together. All this philanderin' that young folks do +nowadays is just pure nonsense, and waste of time.” + +“Sure!” laughed Linda. “When my brave comes along with his blanket I'll +just step under, and then if anybody tries to take my man I'll have the +right to go on the warpath and have a scalping party that would be some +satisfaction to the soul.” + +Then they served the dinner, and when the guests had left the dining +room, Katy closed the doors, and brought on the delicacies she had +hidden for Linda and patted and cajoled her while she ate like any +healthy, hungry young creature. + + + +CHAPTER II. Cotyledon of Multiflores Canyon + +“'Ave, atque vale!' Cotyledon!” + +Linda slid down the side of the canyon with the deftness of the expert. +At the first available crevice she thrust in her Alpine stick, and +bracing herself, gained a footing. Then she turned and by use of her +fingers and toes worked her way back to the plan, she had passed. She +was familiar with many members of she family, but such a fine specimen +she seldom had found and she could not recall having seen it in all of +her botanies. Opposite the plant she worked out a footing, drove her +stick deep at the base of a rock to brace herself, and from the knapsack +on her back took a sketchbook and pencil and began rapidly copying the +thick fleshy leaves of the flattened rosette, sitting securely at the +edge of a rock. She worked swiftly and with breathless interest. When +she had finished the flower she began sketching in the moss-covered face +of the boulder against which it grew, and other bits of vegetation near. + +“I think, Coty,” she said, “it is very probable that I can come a few +simoleons with you. You are becoming better looking ever minute.” + +For a touch of color she margined one side of her drawing with a little +spray of Pentstemon whose bright tubular flower the canyon knew as +“hummingbird's dinner horn.” That gave, her the idea of introducing +a touch of living interest, so bearing down upon the flowers from +the upper right-hand corner of her drawing she deftly sketched in a +ruby-throated hummingbird, and across the bottom of the sheet the lace +of a few leaves of fern. Then she returned the drawing and pencil to her +knapsack, and making sure of her footing, worked her way forward. With +her long slender fingers she began teasing the plant loose from the +rock and the surrounding soil. The roots penetrated deeper than she +had supposed and in her interest she forgot her precarious footing and +pulled hard. The plant gave way unexpectedly, and losing her balance, +Linda plunged down the side of the canyon catching wildly at shrubs and +bushes and bruising herself severely on stones, finally landing in a +sitting posture on the road that traversed the canyon. + +She was not seriously hurt, but she did not present a picturesque figure +as she sprawled in the road, her booted feet thrust straight before her, +one of her long black braids caught on a bush at her back, her blouse +pulled above her breeches, the contents of her knapsack decorating the +canyon side and the road around her; but high in one hand, without break +or blemish, she triumphantly held aloft the rare Cotyledon. She shrugged +her shoulders, wiggled her toes, and moved her arms to assure herself +that no bones were broken; then she glanced at her drawings and the +fruits of her day's collecting scattered on the roadside around her. She +was in the act of rising when a motor car containing two young men shot +around a curve of the canyon, swerved to avoid running over her, and +stopped as abruptly as possible. + +“It's a girl!” cried the driver, and both men sprang to the road +and hurried to Linda's assistance. Her dark cheeks were red with +mortification, but she managed to recover her feet and tuck in her +blouse before they reached her. + +“We heard you coming down,” said the elder of the young men, “and we +thought you might be a bear. Are you sure you're not hurt?” + +Linda stood before them, a lithe slender figure, vivid with youth and +vitality. + +“I am able to stand,” she said, “so of course I haven't broken any +bones. I think I am fairly well battered, but you will please to observe +that there isn't a scratch on Cotyledon, and I brought her down--at +least I think it's she--from the edge of that boulder away up there. +Isn't she a beauty? Only notice the delicate frosty 'bloom' on her +leaves!” + +“I should prefer,” said the younger of the men, “to know whether you have +any broken bones.” + +“I'm sure I am all right,” answered Linda. “I have falling down +mountains reduced to an exact science. I'll bet you couldn't slide that +far and bring down Coty without a scratch.” + +“Well, which is the more precious,” said the young man. “Yourself or +the specimen?” + +“Why, the specimen!” answered Linda in impatience. “California is full +of girls; but this is the finest Cotyledon of this family I have ever +seen. Don't mistake this for any common stonecrop. It looks to me like +an Echeveria. I know what I mean to do with the picture I have made of +her, and I know exactly where she is going to grow from this day on.” + +“Is there any way we can help you?” inquired the elder of the two men. + +For the first time Linda glanced at him, and her impression was that he +was decidedly attractive. + +“No, thank you!” she answered briskly. “I am going to climb back up to +the boulder and collect the belongings I spilled on the way down. Then +I am going to carry Coty to the car line in a kind of triumphal march, +because she is the rarest find that I have ever made. I hope you have +no dark designs on Coty, because this is 'what the owner had to do to +redeem her.'” + +Linda indicated her trail down the canyon side, brushed soil and twigs +from her trousers, turned her straight young back, carefully set down +her specimen, and by the aid of her recovered stick began expertly +making her way up the canyon side. “Here, let me do that,” offered the +younger man. “You rest until I collect your belongings.” Linda glanced +back over her shoulder. “Thanks,” she said. “I have a mental inventory +of all the pencils and knives and trowels I must find. You might +overlook the most important part of my paraphernalia; and really I am +not damaged. I'm merely hurt. Good-bye!” + +Linda started back up the side of the canyon, leaving the young men to +enter their car and drive away. For a minute both of them stood watching +her. + +“What will girls be wearing and doing next?” asked the elder of the two +as he started his car. + +“What would you have a girl wear when she is occupied with coasting down +canyons?” said his friend. “And as for what she is doing, it's probable +that every high-school girl in Los Angeles has a botanical collection to +make before she graduates.” + +“I see!” said the man driving. “She is only a high-school kid, but +did you notice that she is going to make an extremely attractive young +woman?” + +“Yes, I noticed just that; I noticed it very particularly,” answered +the younger man. “And I noticed also that she either doesn't know it, or +doesn't give a flip.” + + Linda collected her belongings, straightened her hair and +clothing, and, with her knapsack in place, and leaning rather on heavily +on her walking stick, made her way down the road to the abutment of a +small rustic bridge where she stopped to rest. The stream at her feet +was noisy and icy cold. It rushed through narrow defiles in the rock, +beat itself to foam against the faces a of the big stones, fell over +jutting cliffs, spread in whispering pools, wound back and forth +across the road at its will, singing every foot of its downward way +and watering beds of crisp, cool miners' lettuce, great ferns, and +heliotrope, climbing clematis, soil and blue-eyed grass. All along +its length grew willows, and in a few places white-bodied sycamores. +Everywhere over the walls red above it that vegetation could find a +footing grew mosses, vines, flowers, and shrubs. On the shadiest side +homed most of the ferns and the Cotyledon. In the sun, larkspur, lupin, +and monkey flower; everywhere wild rose, holly, mahogany, gooseberry, +and bayoneted yucca all intermingling in a curtain of variegated greens, +brocaded with flower arabesques of vivid red, white, yellow, and blue. +Canyon wrens and vireos sang as they nested. The air was clear, cool, +and salty from the near-by sea. Myriad leaf shadows danced on the black +roadbed, level as a barn floor, and across it trailed the wavering +image of hawk and vulture, gull and white sea swallow. Linda studied the +canyon with intent eyes, but bruised flesh pleaded, so reluctantly she +arose, shouldered her belongings, and slowly followed the road out to +the car line that passed through Lilac Valley, still carefully bearing +in triumph the precious Cotyledon. An hour later she entered the +driveway of her home. She stopped to set her plant carefully in the wild +garden she and her father had worked all her life at collecting, then +followed the back porch and kitchen route. + +“Whatever have ye been doing to yourself, honey?” cried Katy. + +“I came a cropper down Multiflores Canyon where it is so steep that it +leans the other way. I pretty well pulverized myself for a pulverulent, +Katy, which is a poor joke.” + +“Now ain't that just my luck!” wailed Katy, snatching a cake cutter and +beginning hurriedly to stamp out little cakes from the dough before her. + +“Well, I don't understand in exactly what way,” said Linda, absently +rubbing her elbows and her knees. “Seems to me it's my promontories that +have been knocked off, not yours, Katy.” + +“Yes, and ain't it just like ye,” said Katy, “to be coming in late, and +all banged up when Miss Eileen has got sudden notice that there is going +to be company again and I have an especial dinner to serve, and never in +the world can I manage if ye don't help me!” + +“Why, who is coming now?” asked Linda, seating herself on the nearest +chair and beginning to unfasten her boots slowly. + +“Well, first of all, there is Mr. Gilman, of course.” + +“'Of course,'” conceded Linda. “If he tried to get past our house, +Eileen is perfectly capable of setting it on fire to stop him. She's got +him 'vamped' properly.” + +“Oh I don't know that ye should say just that,” said Katy “Eileen is a +mighty pretty girl, and she is SOME manager.” + +“You can stake your hilarious life she is,” said Linda, viciously +kicking a boot to the center of the kitchen. “She can manage to go +downtown for lunch and be invited out to dinner thirteen times a week, +and leave us at home to eat bread and milk, bread heavily stressed. +She can manage to get every cent of the income from the property in her +fingers, and a great big girl like me has to go to high school looking +so tacky that even the boys are beginning to comment on it. Manage, I'll +say she can manage, not to mention managing to snake John Gilman right +out of Marian's fingers. I doubt if Marian fully realizes yet that she's +lost her man; and I happen to know that she just plain loved John!” + +The second boot landed beside the first, then Linda picked them both up +and started toward the back hall. + +“Honey, are ye too bad hurt to help me any?” asked Katy, as she passed +her. + +“Of course not,” said Linda. “Give me a few minutes to take a bath and +step into my clothes and then I'll be on the job.” + +With a black scowl on her face, Linda climbed the dingy back stairway +in her stocking-feet. At the head of the stairs she paused one minute, +glanced at the gloom of her end of the house, then she turned and walked +to the front of the hall where there were potted ferns, dainty white +curtains, and bright rugs. The door of the guest room stood open and she +could see that it was filled with fresh flowers and ready for occupancy. +The door of her sister's room was slightly ajar and she pushed it open +and stood looking inside. In her state of disarray she made a shocking +contrast to the flowerlike figure busy before a dressing table. Linda +was dark, narrow, rawboned, overgrown in height, and forthright of +disposition. Eileen was a tiny woman, delicately moulded, exquisitely +colored, and one of the most perfectly successful tendrils from the +original clinging vine in her intercourse with men, and with such women +as would tolerate the clinging-vine idea in the present forthright days. +With a strand of softly curled hair in one hand and a fancy pin in the +other, Eileen turned a disapproving look upon her sister. + +“What's the great idea?” demanded Linda shortly. + +“Oh, it's perfectly splendid,” answered Eileen. “John Gilman's best +friend is motoring around here looking for a location to build a home. +He is an author and young and good looking and not married, and he +thinks he would like to settle somewhere near Los Angeles. Of course +John would love to have him in Lilac Valley because he hopes to build a +home here some day for himself. His name is Peter Morrison and John says +that his articles and stories have horse sense, logic, and humor, and he +is making a lot of money.” + +“Then God help John Gilman, if he thinks now that he is in love with +you,” said Linda dryly. + +Eileen arched her eyebrows, thinned to a hair line, and her lips drew +together in disapproval. + +“What I can't understand,” she said, “is how you can be so unspeakably +vulgar, Linda.” + +Linda laughed sharply. + +“And this Peter Morrison and John are our guests for dinner?” + +“Yes,” said Eileen. “I am going to show them this valley inside and out. +I'm so glad it's spring. We're at our very best. It would be perfectly +wonderful to have an author for a neighbor, and he must be going to +build a real house, because he has his architect with him; and John says +that while he is young, he has done several awfully good houses. He has +seen a couple of them in in San Francisco.” + +Linda shrugged her shoulders. + +“Up the flue goes Marian's chance of drawing the plans for John Gilman's +house,” she said. “I have heard him say a dozen times he would not build +a house unless Marian made the plans.” + +Eileen deftly placed the strand of hair and set the jewelled pin with +precision. + +“Just possibly things have changed slightly,” she suggested. + +“Yes,” said Linda, “I observe that they have. Marian has sold the home +she adored. She is leaving friends she loved and trusted, and who were +particularly bound to her by a common grief without realizing exactly +how it is happening. She certainly must know that you have taken her +lover, and I have not a doubt but that is the reason she has discovered +she can no longer work at home, that she must sell her property and +spend the money cooped up in a city, to study her profession further.” + +“Linda,” said Eileen, her face pale with anger, “you are positively +insufferable. Will you leave my room and close the door after you?” + +“Well, Katy has just informed me,” said Linda, “that this dinner party +doesn't come off without my valued assistance, and before I agree to +assist, I'll know ONE thing. Are you proposing to entertain these three +men yourself, or have you asked Marian?” + +Eileen indicated an open note lying on her dressing table. + +“I did not know they were coming until an hour ago,” she said. “_I_ +barely had time to fill the vases and dust, and then I ran up to dress +so that there would be someone presentable when they arrive.” + +“All right then, we'll agree that this is a surprise party, but if John +Gilman has told you so much about them, you must have been expecting +them, and in a measure prepared for them at any time. Haven't you talked +it over with Marian, and told her that you would want her when they +came?” + +Eileen was extremely busy with another wave of hair. She turned her back +and her voice was not quite steady as she answered. “Ever since Marian +got this 'going to the city to study' idea in her head I have scarcely +seen her. She had an awful job to empty the house, and pack such things +as she wants to keep, and she is working overtime on a very special plan +that she thinks maybe she'll submit in a prize competition offered by +a big firm of San Francisco architects, so I have scarcely seen her for +six weeks.” + +“And you never once went over to help her with her work, or to encourage +her or to comfort her? You can't think Marian can leave this valley and +not be almost heartbroken,” said Linda. “You just make me almost wonder +at you. When you think of the kind of friends that Marian Thorne's +father and mother, and our father and mother were, and how we children +were reared together, and the good times we have had in these two +houses--and then the awful day when the car went over the cliff, and +how Marian clung to us and tried to comfort us, when her own health was +broken--and Marian's the same Marian she has always been, only nicer +every day--how you can sit there and say you have scarcely seen her in +six of the hardest weeks of her life, certainly surprises me. I'll tell +you this: I told Katy I would help her, but I won't do it if you don't +go over and make Marian come tonight.” + +Eileen turned to her sister and looked at her keenly. Linda's brow was +sullen, and her jaw set. + +“A bed would look mighty good to me and I will go and get into mine this +minute if you don't say you will go and ask her, in such a way that she +comes,” she threatened. + +Eileen hesitated a second and then said: “All right, since you make such +a point of it I will ask her.” + +“Very well,” said Linda. “Then I'll help Katy the very best I can.” + + + +CHAPTER III. The House of Dreams + +In less than an hour, Linda was in the kitchen, dressed in an old green +skirt and an orange blouse. Katy pinned one of her aprons on the girl +and told her that her first job was to set the table. + +“And Miss Eileen has given most particular orders that I use the very +best of everything. Lay the table for four, and you are to be extremely +careful in serving not to spill the soup.” + +Linda stood very quietly for a second, her heavy black brows drawn +together in deep thought. + +“When did Eileen issue these instructions?” she inquired. + +“Not five minutes ago,” said Katy. “She just left me kitchen and I'll +say I never saw her lookin' such a perfect picture. That new dress of +hers is the most becoming one she has ever had.” + +Almost unconsciously, Linda's hand reached to the front of her well-worn +blouse, and she glanced downward at her skirt and shoes. + +“Um-hm,” she said meditatively, “another new dress for Eileen, which +means that I will get nothing until next month's allowance comes in, if +I do then. The table set for four, which, interpreted, signifies that +she has asked Marian in such a way that Marian won't come. And the +caution as to care with the soup means that I am to serve my father's +table like a paid waitress. Katy, I have run for over three years on +Eileen's schedule, but this past year I am beginning to use my brains +and I am reaching the place of self-assertion. That programme won't do, +Katy. It's got to be completely revised. You just watch me and see how I +follow those instructions.” + +Then Linda marched out of the kitchen door and started across the lawn +in the direction of a big brown house dimly outlined through widely +spreading branches of ancient live oaks, palm, and bamboo thickets. +She entered the house without knocking and in the hall uttered a low +penetrating whistle. It was instantly answered from upstairs. Linda +began climbing, and met Marian at the top. + +“Why, Marian,” she cried, “I had no idea you were so far along. The +house is actually empty.” + +“Practically everything went yesterday,” answered Marian. “Those things +of Father's and Mother's and my own that I wish to keep I have put in +storage, and the remainder went to James's Auction Rooms. The house is +sold, and I am leaving in the morning.” + +“Then that explains,” questioned Linda, “why you refused Eileen's +invitation to dinner tonight?” + +“On the contrary,” answered Marian, “an invitation to dinner tonight +would be particularly and peculiarly acceptable to me, since the kitchen +is barren as the remainder of the house, and I was intending to slip +over when your room was lighted to ask if I might spend the night with +you.” + +Linda suddenly gathered her friend in her arms and held her tight. + +“Well, thank heaven that you felt sufficiently sure of me to come to me +when you needed me. Of course you shall spend the night with me; and I +must have been mistaken in thinking Eileen had been here. She probably +will come any minute. There are guests for the night. John is bringing +that writer friend of his. Of course you know about him. It's Peter +Morrison.” + +Marian nodded her head. “Of course! John has always talked of him. He +had some extremely clever articles in The Post lately.” + +“Well, he is one,” said Linda, “and an architect who is touring with him +is two; they are looking for a location to build a house for the writer. +You can see that it would be a particularly attractive feather in our +cap if he would endorse our valley sufficiently to home in it. So +Eileen has invited them to sample our brand of entertainment, and in the +morning no doubt she will be delighted to accompany them and show them +all the beautiful spots not yet preempted.” + +“Oh, heavens,” cried Marian, “I'm glad I never showed her my spot!” + +“Well, if you are particular about wanting a certain place I sincerely +hope you did not,” said Linda. + +“I am sure I never did,” answered Marian. “I so love one spot that I +have been most secretive about it. I am certain I never went further +than to say there was a place on which I would love to build for myself +the house of my dreams. I have just about finished getting that home +on paper, and I truly have high hopes that I may stand at least a fair +chance of winning with it the prize Nicholson and Snow are offering. +That is one of the reasons why I am hurrying on my way to San Francisco +much sooner than I had expected to go. I haven't a suitable dinner dress +because my trunks have gone, but among such old friends it won't matter. +I have one fussy blouse in my bag, and I'll be over as soon as I can see +to closing up the house and dressing.” + +Linda hurried home, and going to the dining room, she laid the table for +six in a deft and artistic manner. She filled a basket with beautiful +flowers of her own growing for a centerpiece, and carefully followed +Eileen's instruction to use the best of everything. When she had +finished she went to the kitchen. + +“Katy,” she said, “take a look at my handiwork.” + +“It's just lovely,” said Katy heartily. + +“I quite agree with you,” answered Linda, “and now in pursuance of a +recently arrived at decision, I have resigned, vamoosed, quit, dead +stopped being waitress for Eileen. I was seventeen my last birthday. +Hereafter when there are guests I sit at my father's table, and you will +have to do the best you can with serving, Katy.” + +“And it's just exactly right ye are,” said Katy. “I'll do my best, and +if that's not good enough, Miss Eileen knows what she can do.” + +“Now listen to you,” laughed Linda. “Katy, you couldn't be driven to +leave me, by anything on this earth that Eileen could do; you know you +couldn't.” + +Katy chuckled quietly. “Sure, I wouldn't be leaving ye, lambie,” she +said. “We'll get everything ready, and I can serve I six as nicely as +anyone. But you're not forgetting that Miss Eileen said most explicit to +lay the table for FOUR?' + +“I am not forgetting,” said Linda. “For Eileen's sake I am I sorry +to say that her ship is on the shoals. She is not going to have clear +sailing with little sister Linda any longer. This is the year of woman's +rights, you know, Katy, and I am beginning to realize that my rights +have been badly infringed upon for lo these many years. If Eileen +chooses to make a scene before guests, that is strictly up to Eileen. +Now what is it you want me to do?” + +Katy directed and Linda worked swiftly. Soon they heard a motor stop, +and laughing voices told them that the guests had arrived. + +“Now I wonder,” said Linda, “whether Marian is here yet.” + +At that minute Marian appeared at the kitchen door. + +“Linda,” she said breathlessly, “I am feeling queer about this. Eileen +hasn't been over.” + +“Oh, that's all right,” said Linda casually. “The folks have come, and +she was only waiting to make them a bit at home before she ran after +you.” + +Marian hesitated. + +“She was not allowing me much time to dress.” + +“That's 'cause she knew you did not need it,” retorted Linda. “The more +you fuss up, the less handsome you are, and you never owned anything in +your life so becoming as that old red blouse. So farewell, Katy, we're +due to burst into high society tonight. We're going to help Eileen vamp +a lawyer, and an author, and an architect, one apiece. Which do you +prefer, Marian?” + +“I'll take the architect,” said Marian. “We should have something in +common since I am going to be a great architect myself one of these +days.” + +“Why, that is too bad,” said Linda. “I'll have to rearrange the table if +you insist, because I took him, and left you the author, and it was for +love of you I did it. I truly wanted him myself, all the time.” + +They stopped in the dining room and Marian praised Linda's work in +laying the table; and then, together they entered the living room. + +At the moment of their entrance, Eileen was talking animatedly about the +beauties of the valley as a location for a happy home. When she saw the +two girls she paused, the color swiftly faded from her face, and Linda, +who was watching to see what would happen, noticed the effort she made +at self-control, but she was very sure that their guests did not. + +It never occurred to Linda that anyone would consider good looks in +connection with her overgrown, rawboned frame and lean face, but she was +accustomed to seeing people admire Marian, for Marian was a perfectly +modeled woman with peach bloom cheeks, deep, dark eyes, her face framed +in a waving mass of hair whose whiteness dated from the day that the +brakes of her car failed and she plunged down the mountain with her +father beside her, and her mother and Doctor and Mrs. Strong in the back +seat. Ten days afterward Marian's head of beautiful dark hair was muslin +white. Now it framed a face of youth and beauty with peculiar pathos. +“Striking” was perhaps the one adjective which would best describe her. + +John Gilman came hastily to greet them. Linda, after a swift glance +at Eileen, turned astonished eyes on their guests. For one second +she looked at the elder of them, then at the younger. There was no +recognition in her eyes, and there was a decided negative in a swift +movement of her head. Both men understood that she did not wish them to +mention that they ever had seen her previously. For an instant there +was a strained situation. Eileen was white with anger. John Gilman was +looking straight at Marian, and in his soul he must have wondered if +he had been wise in neglecting her for Eileen. Peter Morrison and his +architect, Henry Anderson, had two things to think about. One was the +stunning beauty of Marian Thorne as she paused in the doorway, the light +misting her white hair and deepening the tints of her red waist The +other was why the young girl facing them had forbidden them to reveal +that two hours before they had seen her in the canyon. Katy, the +efficient life-saver of the Strong family, announced dinner, and Linda +drew back the curtains and led the way to the dining room, saying +when they had arrived: “I didn't have time in my hour's notice to make +elaborate place cards as I should have liked to do, so these little pen +sketches will have to serve.” + +To cover his embarrassment and to satisfy his legal mind, John Gilman +turned to Linda, asking: “Why 'an hour'? I told Eileen a week ago I was +expecting the boys today.” + +“But that does not prove that Eileen mentioned it to me,” answered Linda +quietly; “so you must find your places from the cards I could prepare in +a hurry.” + +This same preparation of cards at the round table placed Eileen between +the architect and the author, Marian between the author and John Gilman, +and Linda between Gilman and the architect, which added one more tiny +gale to the storm of fury that was raging in the breast of white-faced +Eileen. The situation was so strained that without fully understanding +it, Marian, who was several years older than either of the Strong +sisters, knew that although she was tired to the point of exhaustion +she should muster what reserve force she could to the end of making the +dinner party particularly attractive, because she was deeply interested +in drawing to the valley every suitable home seeker it was possible +to locate there. It was the unwritten law of the valley that whenever +a home seeker passed through, every soul who belonged exerted the +strongest influence to prove that the stars hung lower and shone bigger +and in bluer heavens than anywhere else on earth; that nowhere could +be found air to equal the energizing salt breezes from the sea, snow +chilled, perfumed with almond and orange; that the sun shone brighter +more days in the year, and the soil produced a greater variety of +vegetables and fruits than any other spot of the same size on God's +wonderful footstool. This could be done with unanimity and enthusiasm +by every resident of Lilac Valley for the very simple reason that it was +the truth. The valley stood with its steep sides raying blue from myriad +wild lilacs; olives and oranges sloped down to the flat floor, where +cultivated ranches and gardens were so screened by eucalyptus and pepper +trees, palm and live oak, myriads of roses of every color and variety, +and gaudy plants gathered there from the entire girth of the +tropical world, that to the traveler on the highway trees and flowers +predominated. The greatest treasure of the valley was the enthusiastic +stream of icy mountain water that wandered through the near-by canyon +and followed the length of the valley on its singing, chuckling way +to the ocean. All the residents of Lilac Valley had to do to entrance +strangers with the location was to show any one of a dozen vantage +points, and let visitors test for themselves the quality of the sunshine +and air, and study the picture made by the broad stretch of intensively +cultivated valley, walled on either side by mountains whose highest +peaks were often cloud-draped and for ever shifting their delicate +pastel shades from gray to blue, from lavender to purple, from tawny +yellow to sepia, under the play of the sun and clouds. + +They had not been seated three minutes before Linda realized from her +knowledge of Eileen that the shock had been too great, if such a thing +might be said of so resourceful a creature as Eileen. Evidently she was +going to sulk in the hope that this would prove that any party was a +failure at which she did not exert herself to be gracious. It had not +been in Linda's heart to do more than sit quietly in the place belonging +by right to her, but when she realized what was going to happen, she +sent Marian one swift appealing glance, and then desperately plunged +into conversation to cover Eileen's defection. + +“I have been told,” she said, addressing the author, “that you are +looking for a home in California. Is this true, or is it merely that +every good Californian hopes this will happen when any distinguished +Easterner comes our way?” + +“I can scarcely answer you,” said Peter Morrison, “because my ideas on +the subject are still slightly nebulous, but I am only too willing to +see them become concrete.” + +“You have struck exactly the right place,” said Linda. “We have concrete +by the wagon load in this valley and we are perfectly willing to donate +the amount required to materialize your ideas. Do you dream of a whole +ranch or only a nest?” + +“Well, the fact is,” answered Peter Morrison with a most attractive +drawl in his slow speech, “the fact is the dimensions of my dream must +fit my purse. Ever since I finished college I have been in newspaper +work and I have lived in an apartment in New York except while I was +abroad. When I came back my paper sent me to San Francisco and from +there I motored down to see for myself if the wonderful things that are +written about Los Angeles County are true.” + +“That is not much of a compliment to us,” said Linda slowly. “How do you +think we would dare write them if they were not true?” + +This caused such a laugh that everyone felt much easier. Marian turned +her dark eyes toward Peter Morrison. + +“Linda and I are busy people,” she said. “We waste little time +in indirections, so I hope it's not out of the way for me to ask +straightforwardly if you are truly in earnest, about wanting a home in +Lilac Valley?” + +“Then I'll have to answer you,” said Peter, “that I have an attractive +part of the 'makin's' and I am in deadly earnest about wanting a home +somewhere. I am sick in my soul of narrow apartments and wheels and the +rush and roar of the city. There was a time when I ate and drank it. +It was the very breath of life to me. I charged on Broadway like a +caterpillar tank charging in battle; but it is very remarkable how +quickly one changes in this world. I have had some success in my work, +and the higher I go, the better work I feel I can do in a quiet place +and among less enervating surroundings. John and I were in college +together, roommates, and no doubt he has told you that we graduated with +the same class. He has found his location here and I would particularly +enjoy having a home near him. They tell me there are well-trained +servants to look after a house and care for a bachelor, so I truly feel +that if I can find a location I would like, and if Henry can plan me a +house, and I can stretch my purse to cover the investment, that there +is a very large possibility that somewhere within twenty miles of Los +Angeles I may find the home of my dreams.” + +“One would almost expect,” said Marian, “that a writer would say +something more original. This valley is filled with people who came here +saying precisely what you have said; and the lure of the land won them +and here they are, shameless boosters of California.” + +“Why shameless?” inquired Henry Anderson. + +“Because California so verifies the wildest statement that can be made +concerning her that one may go the limit of imagination without shame,” + laughed Marian. “I try in all my dealings to stick to the straight and +narrow path.” + +“Oh, kid, don't stick to the straight and narrow,” broke in Linda, +“there's no scenery.” + +Eileen laid down her fork and stared in white-lipped amazement at the +two girls, but she was utterly incapable of forgetting herself and her +neatly arranged plans to have the three cultivated and attractive +young men all to herself for the evening. She realized too, from the +satisfaction betrayed in the glances these men were exchanging among +each other, the ease with which they sat, and the gusto with which they +ate the food Katy was deftly serving them, that something was happening +which never had happened at the Strong table since she had presided +as its head, her sole endeavor having been to flatter her guests or to +extract flattery for herself from them. + +“That is what makes this valley so adorable,” said Marian when at last +she could make herself heard. “It is neither straight nor narrow. The +wing of a white sea swallow never swept a lovelier curve on the breast +of the ocean than the line of this valley. My mother was the dearest +little woman, and she used to say that this valley was outlined by a +gracious gesture from the hand of God in the dawn of Creation.” + +Peter Morrison deliberately turned in his chair, his eyes intent on +Marian's earnest face. + +“You almost make me want to say, in the language of an old hymn I used +to hear my mother sing, 'Here will I set up my rest.' With such a name +as Lilac Valley and with such a thought in the heart concerning it, I +scarcely feel that there is any use in looking further. How about it, +Henry? Doesn't it sound conclusive to you?” + +“It certainly does,” answered Henry Anderson, “and from what I could see +as we drove in, it looks as well as it sounds.” + +Peter Morrison turned to his friend. + +“Gilman,” he said, “you're a lawyer; you should know the things I'd like +to. Are there desirable homesites still to be found in the valley, +and does the inflation of land at the present minute put it out of my +reach?” + +“Well, that is on a par with the average question asked a lawyer,” + answered Gilman, “but part of it I can answer definitely and at once. +I think every acre of land suitable for garden or field cultivation is +taken. I doubt if there is much of the orchard land higher up remaining +and what there is would command a rather stiff price; but if you would +be content with some small plateau at the base of a mountain where you +could set any sort of a house and have--say two or three acres, mostly +of sage and boulders and greasewood and yucca around it.” + +“Why in this world are you talking about stones and sage and +greasewood?” cried Linda. “Next thing they'll be asking about mountain +lions and rattlesnakes.” + +“I beg your pardon,” said Gilman, “I fear none of us has remembered to +present Miss Linda as a coming naturalist. She got her start from her +father, who was one of the greatest nerve specialists the world ever +has known. She knows every inch of the mountains, the canyons and the +desert. She always says that she cut her teeth on a chunk of adobe, +while her father hunted the nests of trap-door spiders out in Sunland. +What should I have said when describing a suitable homesite for Peter, +Linda?” + +“You should have assumed that immediately, Peter,”--Linda lifted her +eyes to Morrison's face with a sparkle of gay challenge, and by way of +apology interjected--“I am only a kid, you know, so I may call John's +friend Peter--you should have assumed that sage and greasewood would +simply have vanished from any home location chosen by Peter, leaving it +all lacy blue with lilac, and misty white with lemonade bush, and lovely +gold with monkey flower, and purple with lupin, and painted blood red +with broad strokes of Indian paint brush, and beautifully lighted with +feathery flames from Our Lord's Candles, and perfumy as altar incense +with wild almond.” + +“Oh, my soul,” said Peter Morrison. “Good people, I have located. I have +come to stay. I would like three acres but I could exist with two; an +acre would seem an estate to me, and my ideas of a house, Henry, are +shriveling. I did have a dream of something that must have been precious +near a home. There might have been an evanescent hint of flitting +draperies and inexperienced feet in it, but for the sake of living and +working in such a location as Miss Linda describes, I would gladly cut +my residence to a workroom and a sleeping room and kitchen.” + +“Won't do,” said Linda. “A house is not a house in California without +a furnace and a bathroom. We are cold as blue blazes here when the sun +goes down and the salty fog creeps up from the sea, and the icy mist +rolls down from the mountains to chill our bones; and when it has not +rained for six months at a stretch, your own private swimming pool is +a comfort. This to add verisimilitude to what everyone else in Lilac +Valley is going to tell you.” + +“I hadn't thought I would need a fire,” said Peter, “and I was depending +on the ocean for my bathtub. I am particularly fond of a salt rub.” + +So far, Eileen had not deigned to enter the conversation. It was all so +human, so far from her ideas of entertaining that the disapproval on her +lips was not sufficiently veiled to be invisible, and John Gilman, +glancing in her direction, realized that he was having the best time he +had ever had in the Strong household since the passing of his friends, +Doctor and Mrs. Strong, vaguely wondered why. And it occurred to him +that Linda and Marian were dominating the party. He said the most +irritating thing possible in the circumstances: “I am afraid you are not +feeling well this evening, Eileen.” + +Eileen laughed shortly. + +“The one perfect thing about me,” she said with closely cut precision, +“is my health. I haven't the faintest notion what it means to be ill. I +am merely waiting for the conversation to take a I turn where I can join +in it intelligently.” + +“Why, bless the child!” exclaimed Linda. “Can't you talk intelligently +about a suitable location for a home? On what subject is a woman +supposed to be intelligent if she is not at her best on the theme of +home. If you really are not interested you had better begin to polish +up, because it appeals to me that the world goes just so far in one +direction, and then it whirls to the right-about and goes equally as far +in the opposite direction. If Daddy were living I think he would say we +have reached the limit with apartment house homes minus fireplaces, with +restaurant dining minus a blessing, with jazz music minus melody, with +jazz dancing minus grace, with national progress minus cradles.” + +“Linda!” cried Eileen indignantly. + +“Good gracious!” cried Linda. “Do I get the shillalah for that? Weren't +all of us rocked in cradles? I think that the pendulum has swung far +and it is time to swing back to where one man and one woman choose any +little spot on God's footstool, build a nest and plan their lives in +accord with personal desire and inclination instead of aping their +neighbors.” + +“Bravo!” cried Henry Anderson. “Miss Linda, if you see any suitable +spot, and you think I would serve for a bug-catcher, won't you please +stake the location?” + +“Well, I don't know about that,” said Linda. “Would it be the old case +of 'I furnish the bread and you furnish the water'?” + +“No,” said Peter Morrison, “it would not. Henry is doing mighty well. I +guarantee that he would furnish a cow that would produce real cream.” + +“How joyous!” said Linda. “I feel quite competent to manage the bread +question. We'll call that settled then. When I next cast an appraising +eye over my beloved valley, I shan't select the choicest spot in it for +Peter Morrison to write a book in; and I want to warn you people when +you go hunting to keep a mile away from Marian's plot. She has had her +location staked from childhood and has worked on her dream house until +she has it all ready to put the ice in the chest and scratch the match +for the living room fire-logs. The one thing she won't ever tell is +where her location is, but wherever it is, Peter Morrison, don't you +dare take it.” + +“I wouldn't for the world,” said Peter Morrison gravely. “If Miss Thorne +will tell me even on which side of the valley her location lies, I will +agree to stay on the other side.” + +“Well there is one thing you can depend upon,” said the irrepressible +Linda before Marian had time to speak. “It is sure to be on the sunny +side. Every living soul in California is looking for a place in the +sun.” + +“Then I will make a note of it,” said Peter Morrison. “But isn't there +enough sun in all this lovely valley that I may have a place in it too?” + +“You go straight ahead and select any location you like,” said Marian. +“I give you the freedom of the valley. There's not one chance in ten +thousand that you would find or see anything attractive about the one +secluded spot I have always hoped I might some day own.” + +“This is not fooling, then?” asked Peter Morrison. “You truly have a +place selected where you would like to live?” + +“She truly has the spot selected and she truly has the house on paper +and it truly is a house of dreams,” said Linda. “I dream about it +myself. When she builds it and lives in it awhile and finds out all the +things that are wrong with it, then I am going to build one like it, +only I shall eliminate all the mistakes she has made.” + +“I have often wondered,” said Henry Anderson, “if such a thing ever +happened as that people built a house and lived in it, say ten years, +and did not find one single thing about it that they would change if +they had it to build over again. I never have heard of such a case. Have +any of you?” + +“I am sure no one has,” said John Gilman meditatively, “and it's a queer +thing. I can't see why people don't plan a house the way they want it +before they build.” + +Marian turned to him--the same Marian he had fallen in love with when +they were children. + +“Mightn't it be,” she asked, “that it is due to changing conditions +caused by the rapid development of science and invention? If one had +built the most perfect house possible five years ago and learned today +that infinitely superior lighting and heating and living facilities +could be installed at much less expense and far greater convenience, +don't you think that one would want to change? Isn't life a series of +changes? Mustn't one be changing constantly to keep abreast of one's day +and age?” + +“Why, surely,” answered Gilman, “and no doubt therein lies at least part +of the answer to Anderson's question.” + +“And then,” added Marian, “things happen in families. Sometimes more +babies than they expect come to newly married people and they require +more room.” + +“My goodness, yes!” broke in Linda. “Just look at Sylvia Townsend--twins +to begin with.” + +“Linda!” breathed Eileen, aghast. + +“So glad you like my name, dear,” murmured Linda sweetly. + +“And then,” continued Marian, “changes come to other people as they have +to me. I can't say that I had any fault to find with either the comforts +or the conveniences of Hawthorne House until Daddy and Mother were swept +from it at one cruel sweep; and after that it was nothing to me but +a haunted house, and I don't feel that I can be blamed for wanting to +leave it. I will be glad to know that there are people living in it who +won't see a big strong figure meditatively smoking before the fireplace +and a gray dove of a woman sitting on the arm of his chair. I will be +glad, if Fate is kind to me and people like my houses, to come back +to the valley when I can afford to and build myself a home that has no +past--a place, in fact, where I can furnish my own ghost, and if I meet +myself on the stairs then I won't be shocked by me. + +“I don't think there is a soul in the valley who blames you for selling +your home and going, Marian,” said Linda soberly. “I think it would be +foolish if you did not.” + +The return to the living room brought no change. Eileen pouted while +Linda and Marian thoroughly enjoyed themselves and gave the guests a +most entertaining evening. So disgruntled was Eileen, when the young +men had gone, that she immediately went to her room, leaving Linda and +Marian to close the house and make their own arrangements for the night. +Whereupon Linda deliberately led Marian to the carefully dusted and +flower-garnished guest room and installed her with every comfort and +convenience that the house afforded. Then bringing her brushes from her +own room, she and Marian made themselves comfortable, visiting far into +the night. + +“I wonder,” said Linda, “if Peter Morrison will go to a real estate man +in the morning and look over the locations remaining in Lilac Valley.” + +“Yes, I think he will,” said Marian conclusively. + +“It seems to me,” said Linda, “that we did a whole lot of talking about +homes tonight; which reminds me, Marian, in packing have you put in your +plans? Have you got your last draft with you?” + +“No,” answered Marian, “it's in one of the cases. I haven't anything but +two or three pencil sketches from which I drew the final plans as I now +think I'll submit them for the contest. Wouldn't it be a tall feather in +my cap, Linda, if by any chance l I should win that prize?” + +“It would be more than a feather,” said Linda. “It would be a whole cap, +and a coat to wear with it, and a dress to match the coat, and slippers +to match the dress, and so forth just like 'The House That Jack Built.' +Have you those sketches, Marian?” + +Opening her case, Marian slid from underneath the garments folded in it, +several sheets on which were roughly penciled sketches of the exterior +of a house--on the reverse, the upstairs and downstairs floor plans; and +sitting down, she explained these to Linda. Then she left them lying +on a table, waiting to be returned to her case before she replaced her +clothes in the morning. Both girls were fast asleep when a mischievous +wind slipped down the valley, and lightly lifting the top sheet, carried +it through the window, across the garden, and dropped it at the foot of +a honey-dripping loquat. + +Because they had talked until late in the night of Marian's plans and +prospects in the city, of Peter Morrison's proposed residence in the +valley, of how lonely Linda would be without Marian, of everything +concerning their lives except the change in Eileen and John Gilman, the +two girls slept until late in the morning, so that there were but a few +minutes remaining in which Marian might dress, have a hasty breakfast +and make her train. In helping her, it fell to Linda to pack Marian's +case. She put the drawings she found on the table in the bottom, the +clothing and brushes on top of them, and closing the case, carried it +herself until she delivered it into the porter's hands as Marian boarded +her train. + + + +CHAPTER IV. Linda Starts a Revolution + +The last glimpse Marian Thorne had of Linda was as she stood alone, +waving her hand, her cheeks flushed, her eyes shining, her final word +cheery and encouraging. Marian smiled and waved in return until the +train bore her away. Then she sat down wearily and stared unseeingly +from a window. Life did such very dreadful things to people. Her +girlhood had been so happy. Then came the day of the Black Shadow, but +in her blackest hour she had not felt alone. She had supposed she was +leaning on John Gilman as securely as she had leaned on her father. She +had learned, with the loss of her father, that one cannot be sure of +anything in this world least of all of human life. Yet in her darkest +days she had depended on John Gilman. She had every reason to believe +that it was for her that he struggled daily to gain a footing in his +chosen profession. When success came, when there was no reason that +Marian could see why they might not have begun life together, there had +come a subtle change in John, and that change had developed so +rapidly that in a few weeks' time, she was forced to admit that the +companionship and loving attentions that once had been all hers were now +all Eileen's. + +She sat in the train, steadily carrying her mile after mile farther from +her home, and tried to think what had happened and how and why it had +happened. She could not feel that she had been wrong in her estimate of +John Gilman. Her valuation of him had been taught her by her father and +mother and by Doctor and Mrs. Strong and by John Gilman himself. Dating +from the time that Doctor Strong had purchased the property and built a +home in Lilac Valley beside Hawthorne House, Marian had admired Eileen +and had loved her. She was several years older than the beautiful girl +she had grown up beside. Age had not mattered; Eileen's beauty had not +mattered. Marian was good looking herself. + +She always had known that Eileen had imposed upon her and was selfish +with her, but Eileen's impositions were so skillfully maneuvered, +her selfishness was so adorably taken for granted that Marian in +retrospection felt that perhaps she was responsible for at least a +small part of it. She never had been able to see the inner workings +of Eileen's heart. She was not capable of understanding that when +John Gilman was poor and struggling Eileen had ignored him. It had not +occurred to Marian that when the success for which he struggled began to +come generously, Eileen would begin to covet the man she had previously +disdained. She had always striven to find friends among people of wealth +and distinction. How was Marian to know that when John began to achieve +wealth and distinction, Eileen would covet him also? + +Marian could not know that Eileen had studied her harder than she ever +studied any book, that she had deliberately set herself to make the most +of every defect or idiosyncrasy in Marian, at the same time offering +herself as a charming substitute. Marian was prepared to be the mental, +the spiritual, and the physical mate of a man. + +Eileen was not prepared to be in truth and honor any of these. She was +prepared to make any emergency of life subservient to her own selfish +desires. She was prepared to use any man with whom she came in contact +for the furtherance of any whim that at the hour possessed her. What she +wanted was unbridled personal liberty, unlimited financial resources. + +Marian, almost numbed with physical fatigue and weeks of mental strain, +came repeatedly against the dead wall of ignorance when she tried to +fathom the change that had taken place between herself and John Gilman +and between herself and Eileen. Daniel Thorne was an older man than +Doctor Strong. He had accumulated more property. Marian had sufficient +means at her command to make it unnecessary for her to acquire a +profession or work for her living, but she had always been interested in +and loved to plan houses and help her friends with buildings they +were erecting. When the silence and the loneliness of her empty home +enveloped her, she had begun, at first as a distraction, to work on the +drawings for a home that an architect had made for one of her neighbors. +She had been able to suggest so many comforts and conveniences, and so +to revise these plans that, at first in a desultory way, later in +real earnest, she had begun to draw plans for houses. Then, being of +methodical habit and mathematical mind, she began scaling up the plans +and figuring on the cost of building, and so she had worked until she +felt that she was evolving homes that could be built for the same amount +of money and lived in with more comfort and convenience than the homes +that many of her friends were having planned for them by architects of +the city. + +To one spot in the valley she had gone from childhood as a secret place +in which to dream and study. She had loved that retreat until it had +become a living passion with her. The more John Gilman neglected her, +the more she concentrated upon her plans, and when the hour came in +which she realized what she had lost and what Eileen had won, she +reached the decision to sell her home, go to the city, and study until +she knew whether she really could succeed at her chosen profession. + +Then she would come back to the valley, buy the spot she coveted, build +the house of which she dreamed, and in it she would spend the remainder +of her life making homes for the women who knew how to hold the love +of men. When she reached the city she had decided that if one could not +have the best in life, one must be content with the next best, and for +her the next best would be homes for other people, since she might not +materialize the home she had dreamed for John Gilman and herself. She +had not wanted to leave the valley. She had not wanted to lose John +Gilman. She had not wanted to part with the home she had been reared in. +Yet all of these things seemed to have been forced upon her. All Marian +knew to do was to square her shoulders, take a deep breath, put regrets +behind her, and move steadily toward the best future she could devise +for herself. + +She carried letters of introduction to the San Francisco architects, +Nicholson and Snow, who had offered a prize for the best house that +could be built in a reasonable time for fifteen thousand dollars. She +meant to offer her plans in this competition. Through friends she had +secured a comfortable place in which to live and work. She need undergo +no hardships in searching for a home, in clothing herself, in paying for +instruction in the course in architecture she meant to pursue. + +Concerning Linda she could not resist a feeling of exultation. Linda +was one of the friends in Lilac Valley about whom Marian could think +wholeheartedly and lovingly. Sometimes she had been on the point of +making a suggestion to Linda, and then she had contented herself with +waiting in the thought that very soon there must come to the girl a +proper sense of her position and her rights. The experience of the +previous night taught Marian that Linda had arrived. She would no longer +be the compliant little sister who would run Eileen's errands, wait upon +her guests and wear disreputable clothing. When Linda reached a point +where she was capable of the performance of the previous night, Marian +knew that she would proceed to live up to her blue china in every +ramification of life. She did not know exactly how Linda would follow up +the assertion of her rights that she had made, but she did know that +in some way she would follow it up, because Linda was a very close +reproduction of her father. + +She had been almost constantly with him during his life, very much alone +since his death. She was a busy young person. From Marian's windows +she had watched the business of carrying on the wild-flower garden that +Linda and her father had begun. What the occupation was that kept the +light burning in Linda's room far into the night Marian did not know. +For a long time she had supposed that her studies were difficult for +her, and when she had asked Linda if it were not possible for her to +prepare her lessons without so many hours of midnight study she had +caught the stare of frank amazement with which the girl regarded her +and in that surprised, almost grieved look she had realized that very +probably a daughter of Alexander Strong, who resembled him as Linda +resembled him, would not be compelled to overwork to master the +prescribed course of any city high school. What Linda was doing during +those midnight hours Marian did not know, but she did know that she was +not wrestling with mathematics and languages--at least not all of the +time. So Marian knowing Linda's gift with a pencil, had come to the +conclusion that she was drawing pictures; but circumstantial evidence +was all she had as a basis for her conviction. Linda went her way +silently and alone. She was acquainted with everyone living in Lilac +Valley, frank and friendly with all of them; aside from Marian she +had no intimate friend. Not another girl in the valley cared to follow +Linda's pursuits or to cultivate the acquaintance of the breeched, +booted girl, constantly devoting herself to outdoor study with her +father during his lifetime, afterward alone. + +For an instant after Marian had boarded her train Linda stood looking at +it, her heart so heavy that it pained acutely. She had not said one word +to make Marian feel that she did not want her to go. Not once had she +put forward the argument that Marian's going would leave her to depend +entirely for human sympathy upon the cook, and her guardian, also +administrator of the Strong estate, John Gilman. So long as he was +Marian's friend Linda had admired John Gilman. She had gone to him for +some measure of the companionship she had missed in losing her father. +Since Gilman had allowed himself to be captivated by Eileen, Linda +had harbored a feeling concerning him almost of contempt. Linda was so +familiar with every move that Eileen made, so thoroughly understood that +there was a motive back of her every action, that she could not see why +John Gilman, having known her from childhood, should not understand her +also. + +She had decided that the time had come when she would force Eileen to +give her an allowance, however small, for her own personal expenses, +that she must in some way manage to be clothed so that she was not a +matter of comment even among the boys of her school, and she could see +no reason why the absolute personal liberty she always had enjoyed so +long as she disappeared when Eileen did not want her and appeared when +she did, should not extend to her own convenience as well as Eileen's. + +Life was a busy affair for Linda. She had not time to watch Marian's +train from sight. She must hurry to the nearest street car and make all +possible haste or she would be late for her classes. Throughout the day +she worked with the deepest concentration, but she could not keep down +the knowledge that Eileen would have things to say, possibly things to +do, when they met that evening, for Eileen was capable of disconcerting +hysteria. Previously Linda had remained stubbornly silent during any +tirade in which Eileen chose to indulge. She had allowed herself to be +nagged into doing many things that she despised, because she would not +assert herself against apparent injustice. But since she had come fully +to realize the results of Eileen's course of action for Marian and for +herself, she was deliberately arriving at the conclusion that hereafter +she would speak when she had a defense, and she would make it her +business to let the sun shine on any dark spot that she discovered in +Eileen. + +Linda knew that if John Gilman were well acquainted with Eileen, he +could not come any nearer to loving her than she did. Such an idea as +loving Eileen never had entered Linda's thoughts. To Linda, Eileen was +not lovable. That she should be expected to love her because they had +the same parents and lived in the same home seemed absurd. She was +slightly disappointed, on reaching home, to find that Eileen was not +there. + +“Will the lady of the house dine with us this evening? she asked as she +stood eating an apple in the kitchen. + +“She didn't say,” answered Katy. “Have ye had it out about last night +yet?” + +“No,” answered Linda. “That is why I was asking about her. I want to +clear the atmosphere before I make my new start in life.” + +“Now, don't ye be going too far, lambie,” cautioned Katy “Ye young +things make such an awful serious business of life these days. In your +scramble to wring artificial joy out of it you miss all the natural joy +the good God provided ye.” + +“It seems to me, Katy,” said Linda slowly, “that you should put that +statement the other way round. It seems that life makes a mighty serious +business for us young things, and it seems to me that if we don't get +the right start and have a proper foundation life Is going to be spoiled +for us. One life is all I've got to live in this world, and I would +like it to be the interesting and the beautiful kind of life that Father +lived.” + +Linda dropped to a chair. + +“Katy,” she said, leaning forward and looking intently into the earnest +face of the woman before her, “Katy, I have been thinking an awful lot +lately. There is a question you could answer for me if you wanted to.” + +“Well, I don't see any raison,” said Katy, “why I shouldn't answer ye +any question ye'd be asking me.” + +Linda's eyes narrowed as they did habitually in deep thought She was +looking past Katy down the sunlit spaces of the wild garden that was her +dearest possession, and then her eyes strayed higher to where the blue +walls that shut in Lilac Valley ranged their peaks against the sky. +“Katy,” she said, scarcely above her breath, “was Mother like Eileen?” + +Katy stiffened. Her red face paled slightly. She turned her back and +slowly slid into the oven the pie she was carrying. She closed the door +with more force than was necessary and then turned and deliberately +studied Linda from the top of her shining black head to the tip of her +shoe. + +“Some,” she said tersely. + +“Yes, I know 'some',” said Linda, “but you know I was too young to pay +much attention, and Daddy managed always to make me so happy that I +never realized until he was gone that he not only had been my father but +my mother as well. You know what I mean, Katy.” + +“Yes,” said Katy deliberately, “I know what ye mean, lambie, and I'll +tell ye the truth as far as I know it. She managed your father, she +pampered him, but she deceived him every day, just about little things. +She always made the household accounts bigger than they were, and used +the extra money for Miss Eileen and herself--things like that. I'm +thinkin' he never knew it. I'm thinking he loved her deeply and trusted +her complete. I know what ye're getting at. She was not enough like +Eileen to make him unhappy with her. He might have been if he had known +all there was to know, but for his own sake I was not the one to give +her away, though she constantly made him think that I was extravagant +and wasteful in me work.” Linda's eyes came back from the mountains and +met Katy's straightly. + +“Katy,” she said, “did you ever see sisters as different as Eileen and I +are?” + +“No, I don't think I ever did,” said Katy. + +“It puzzles me,” said Linda slowly. “The more I think about it, the +less I can understand why, if we are sisters, we would not accidentally +resemble each other a tiny bit in some way, and I must say I can't see +that we do physically or mentally.” + +“No,” said Katy, “ye were just as different as ye are now when I came to +this house new and ye were both little things.” + +“And we are going to be as different and to keep on growing more +different every day of our lives, because red war breaks out the minute +Eileen comes home. I haven't a notion what she will say to me for what +I did last night and what I am going to do in the future, but I have a +definite idea as to what I am going to say to her.” + +“Now, easy; ye go easy, lambie,” cautioned Katy. + +“I wouldn't regret it,” said Linda, “if I took Eileen by the shoulders +and shook her till I shook the rouge off her cheek, and the brilliantine +off her hair, and a million mean little subterfuges out of her soul. +You know Eileen is lovely when she is natural, and if she would be +straight-off-the-bat square, I would be proud to be her sister. As it +is, I have my doubts, even about this sister business.” + +“Why, Linda, child, ye are just plain crazy,” said Katy. “What kind of +notions are you getting into your head?” + +“I hear the front door,” said Linda, “and I am going to march straight +to battle. She's going up the front stairs. I did mean to short-cut up +the back, but, come to think of it, I have served my apprenticeship +on the back stairs. I believe I'll ascend the front myself. Good-bye, +darlin', wish me luck.” + +Linda swung Katy around, hugged her tight, and dropped a kiss on the top +of her faithful head. + +“Ye just stick right up for your rights,” Katy advised her. “Ye're a +great big girl. 'Tain't going to be long till ye're eighteen. But mind +your old Katy about going too far. If ye lose your temper and cat-spit, +it won't get ye anywhere. The fellow that keeps the coolest can always +do the best headwork.” + +“I get you,” said Linda, “and that is good advice for which I thank +you.” + + + +CHAPTER V. The Smoke of Battle + +Then Linda walked down the hall, climbed the front stairs, and presented +herself at Eileen's door, there to receive one of the severest shocks of +her young life. Eileen had tossed her hat and fur upon a couch, seated +herself at her dressing table, and was studying her hair in the effort +to decide whether she could fluff it up sufficiently to serve for the +evening or whether she must take it down and redress it. At Linda's step +in the doorway she turned a smiling face upon her and cried: “Hello, +little sister, come in and tell me the news.” + +Linda stopped as if dazed. The wonderment in which she looked at Eileen +was stamped all over her. A surprised braid of hair hung over one of her +shoulders. Her hands were surprised, and the skirt of her dress, and her +shoes flatly set on the floor. + +“Well, I'll be darned!” she ejaculated, and then walked to where she +could face Eileen, and seated herself without making any attempt to +conceal her amazement. + +“Linda,” said Eileen sweetly, “you would stand far better chance of +being popular and making a host of friends if you would not be +so coarse. I am quite sure you never heard Mama or me use such an +expression.” + +For one long instant Linda was too amazed to speak. Then she recovered +herself. + +“Look here, Eileen, you needn't try any 'perfect lady' business on me,” + she said shortly. “Do you think I have forgotten the extent of your +vocabulary when the curling iron gets too hot or you fail to receive an +invitation to the Bachelors' Ball?” + +Linda never had been capable of understanding Eileen. At that minute she +could not know that Eileen had been facing facts through the long hours +of the night and all through the day, and that she had reached the +decision that for the future her only hope of working Linda to her will +was to conciliate her, to ignore the previous night, to try to put their +relationship upon the old basis by pretending that there never had been +a break. She laughed softly. + +“On rare occasions, I grant it. Of course a little swear slips out +sometimes. What I am trying to point out is that you do too much of it.” + +“How did you ever get the idea,” said Linda, “that I wanted to be +popular and have hosts of friends? What would I do with them if I had +them?” + +“Why, use them, my child, use them,” answered Eileen promptly. + +“Let's cut this,” said Linda tersely. “I am not your child. I'm getting +to the place where I have serious doubt as to whether I am your sister +or not. If I am, it's not my fault, and the same clay never made two +objects quite so different. I came up here to fight, and I'm going +to see it through. I'm on the warpath, so you may take your club and +proceed to battle.” + +“What have we to fight about?” inquired Eileen. + +“Every single thing that you have done that was unfair to me all my +life,” said Linda. “Since all of it has been deliberate you probably +know more about the details than I do, so I'll just content myself +with telling you that for the future, last night marked a change in the +relations between us. I am going to be eighteen before so very long, and +I have ceased to be your maid or your waitress or your dupe. You are not +going to work me one single time when I have got brains to see through +your schemes after this. Hereafter I take my place in my father's house +and at my father's table on an equality with you.” + +Eileen looked at Linda steadily, trying to see to the depths of her +soul. She saw enough to convince her that the young creature in front of +her was in earnest. + +“Hm,” she said, “have I been so busy that I have failed to notice what a +great girl you are getting?” + +“Busy!” scoffed Linda. “Tell that to Katy. It's a kumquat!” + +“Perhaps you are too big,” continued Eileen, “to be asked to wait on the +table any more.” + +“I certainly am,” retorted Linda, “and I am also too big to wear such +shoes or such a dress as I have on at the present min. ute. I know all +about the war and the inflation of prices and the reduction in income, +but I know also that if there is enough to run the house, and dress +you, and furnish you such a suite of rooms as you're enjoying right now, +there is enough to furnish me suitable clothes, a comfortable bedroom +and a place where I can leave my work without putting away everything I +am doing each time I step from the room. I told you four years ago that +you might take the touring car and do what you pleased with it. I have +never asked what you did or what you got out of it, so I'll thank you +to observe equal silence about anything I choose to do now with the +runabout, which I reserved for myself. I told you to take this suite, +and this is the first time that I have ever mentioned to you what you +spent on it.” + +Linda waved an inclusive hand toward the fully equipped, dainty +dressing table, over rugs of pale blue, and beautifully decorated walls, +including the sleeping room and bath adjoining. + +“So now I'll ask you to keep off while I do what I please about the +library and the billiard room. I'll try to get along without much money +in doing what I desire there, but I must have some new clothes. I want +money to buy me a pair of new shoes for school. I want a pair of pumps +suitable for evenings when there are guests to dinner. I want a couple +of attractive school dresses. This old serge is getting too hot and too +worn for common decency. And I also want a couple of dresses something +like you are wearing, for afternoons and evenings.” + +Eileen stared aghast at Linda. + +“Where,” she inquired politely, “is the money for all this to come +from?” + +“Eileen,” said Linda in a low tense voice, “I have reached the place +where even the BOYS of the high school are twitting me about how I am +dressed, and that is the limit. I have stood it for three years from the +girls. I am an adept in pretending that I don't see, and I don't hear. I +have got to the point where I am perfectly capable of walking into your +wardrobe and taking out enough of the clothes there and selling them at +a second-hand store to buy me what I require to dress me just plainly +and decently. So take warning. I don't know where you are going to +get the money, but you are going to get it. If you would welcome a +suggestion from me, come home only half the times you dine yourself and +your girl friends at tearooms and cafes in the city, and you will save +my share that way. I am going to give you a chance to total your budget, +and then I demand one half of the income from Father's estate above +household expenses; and if I don't get it, on the day I am eighteen I +shall go to John Gilman and say to him what I have said to you, and I +shall go to the bank and demand that a division be made there, and that +a separate bank book be started for me.” + +Linda's amazement on entering the room had been worthy of note. +Eileen's at the present minute was beyond description. Dumbfounded was a +colorless word to describe her state of mind. + +“You don't mean that,” she gasped in a quivering voice when at last she +could speak. + +“I can see, Eileen, that you are taken unawares,” said Linda. “I have +had four long years to work up to this hour. Hasn't it even dawned on +you that this worm was ever going to turn? You know exquisite moths and +butterflies evolve in the canyons from very unprepossessing and lowly +living worms. You are spending your life on the butterfly stunt. Have I +been such a weak worm that it hasn't ever occurred to you that I might +want to try a plain, everyday pair of wings sometime myself?” + +Eileen's face was an ugly red, her hands were shaking, her voice was +unnatural, but she controlled her temper. + +“Of course,” she said, “I have always known that the time would come, +after you finished school and were of a proper age, when you would want +to enter society.” + +“No, you never knew anything of the kind,” said Linda bluntly, “because +I have not the slightest ambition to enter society either now or then. +All I am asking is to enter the high school in a commonly decent, +suitable dress; to enter our dining room as a daughter; to enter a +workroom decently equipped for my convenience. You needn't be surprised +if you hear some changes going on in the billiard room and see some +changes going on in the library. And if I feel that I can muster the +nerve to drive the runabout, it's my car, it's up to me.” + +“Linda!” wailed Eileen, “how can you think of such a thing? You wouldn't +dare.” + +“Because I haven't dared till the present is no reason why I should +deprive myself of every single pleasure in life,” said Linda. “You +spend your days doing exactly what you please; driving that runabout +for Father was my one soul-satisfying diversion. Why shouldn't I do the +thing I love most, if I can muster the nerve?” + +Linda arose, and walking over to a table, picked up a magazine lying +among some small packages that Eileen evidently had placed there on +entering her room. + +“Are you subscribing to this?” she asked. + +She turned in her hands and leafed through the pages of a most +attractive magazine, Everybody's Home. It was devoted to poetry, good +fiction, and everything concerning home life from beef to biscuits, and +from rugs to roses. + +“I saw it on a newsstand,” said Eileen. “I was at lunch with some girls +who had a copy and they were talking about some articles by somebody +named something--Meredith, I think it was--Jane Meredith, maybe she's +a Californian, and she is advocating the queer idea that we go back to +nature by trying modern cooking on the food the aborigines ate. If we +find it good then she recommends that we specialize on the growing of +these native vegetables for home use and for export--as a new industry.” + +“I see,” said Linda. “Out-Burbanking Burbank, as it were.” + +“No, not that,” said Eileen. “She is not proposing to evolve new forms. +She is proposing to show us how to make delicious dishes for luncheon or +dinner from wild things now going to waste. What the girls said was so +interesting that I thought I'd get a copy and if I see anything good +I'll turn it over to Katy.” + +“And where's Katy going to get the wild vegetables?” asked Linda +sceptically. + +“Why you might have some of them in your wild garden, or you could +easily find enough to try--all the prowling the canyons you do ought to +result in something.” + +“So it should,” said Linda. “I quite agree with you. Did I understand +you to say that I should be ready to go to the bank with you to arrange +about my income next week?” + +Again the color deepened in Eileen's face, again she made a visible +effort at self-control. + +“Oh, Linda,” she said, “what is the use of being so hard? You will make +them think at the bank that I have not treated you fairly.” + +“_I_?” said Linda, “_I_ will make them think? Don't you think it is YOU +who will make them think? Will you kindly answer my question?” + +“If I show you the books,” said Eileen, “if I divide what is left after +the bills are paid so that you say yourself that it is fair, what more +can you ask?” + +Linda hesitated. + +“What I ought to do is exactly what I have said I would do,” she said +tersely, “but if you are going to put it on that basis I have no desire +to hurt you or humiliate you in public. If you do that, I can't see that +I have any reason to complain, so we'll call it a bargain and we'll say +no more about it until the first of the month, unless the spirit moves +you, after taking a good square look at me, to produce some shoes and a +school dress instanter.” + +“I'll see what I can do,” answered Eileen. + +“All right then,” said Linda. “See you at dinner.” + +She went to her own room, slipped off her school dress, brushed her +hair, and put on the skirt and blouse she had worn the previous evening, +these being the only extra clothing she possessed. As she straightened +her hair she looked at herself intently. + +“My, aren't you coming on!” she said to the figure in the glass. +“Dressing for dinner! First thing you know you'll be a perfect lady.” + + + +CHAPTER VI. Jane Meredith + +When Eileen came down to dinner that evening Linda understood at a +glance that an effort was to be made to efface thoroughly from the mind +of John Gilman all memory of the Eileen of the previous evening. She had +decided on redressing her hair, while she wore one of her most becoming +and attractive gowns. To Linda and Katy during the dinner she was simply +charming. Having said what she wanted to say and received the assurance +she desired, Linda accepted her advances cordially and displayed such +charming proclivities herself that Eileen began covertly to watch her, +and as she watched there slowly grew in her brain the conviction that +something had happened to Linda. At once she began studying deeply in an +effort to learn what it might be. There were three paramount things +in Eileen's cosmos that could happen to a girl: She could have lovely +clothing. Linda did not have it. She could have money and influential +friends. Since Marian's going Linda had practically no friend; she was +merely acquainted with almost everyone living in Lilac Valley. She could +have a lover. Linda had none. But stay! Eileen's thought halted at the +suggestion. Maybe she had! She had been left completely, to her own +devices when she was not wanted about the house. She had been mingling +with hundreds of boys and girls in high school. She might have met some +man repeatedly on the street cars, going to and from school. In school +she might have attracted the son of some wealthy and influential family; +which was the only kind of son Eileen chose to consider in connection +with Linda. Through Eileen's brain ran bits of the conversation of the +previous evening. She recalled that the men she had intended should +spend the evening waiting on her and paying her pretty compliments had +spent it eating like hungry men, laughing and jesting with Linda and +Marian, giving every evidence of a satisfaction with their entertainment +that never had been evinced with the best brand of attractions she had +to offer. + +Eileen was willing to concede that Marian Thorne had been a beautiful +girl, and she had known, previous to the disaster, that it was quite as +likely that any man might admire Marian's flashing dark beauty as +her blonde loveliness. Between them then it would have been merely a +question of taste on the part of the man. Since Marian's dark head had +turned ashen, Eileen had simply eliminated her at one sweep. That white +hair would brand Marian anywhere as an old woman. Very likely no man +ever would want to marry her. Eileen was sure she would not want to if +she were a man. No wonder John Gilman had ceased to be attracted by a +girl's face with a grandmother setting. + +As for Linda, Eileen never had considered her at all except as a +convenience to serve her own purposes. Last night she had learned that +Linda had a brain, that she had wit, that she could say things to which +men of the world listened with interest. She began to watch Linda. +She appraised with deepest envy the dark hair curling naturally on her +temples. She wondered how hair that curled naturally could be so thick +and heavy, and she thought what a crown of glory would adorn Linda's +head when the day came to coil those long dark braids around it and +fasten them with flashing pins. She drew some satisfaction from the +sunburned face and lean figure before her, but it was not satisfaction +of soul-sustaining quality. There was beginning to be something +disquieting about Linda. A roundness was creeping over her lean frame; a +glow was beginning to color her lips and cheek bones; a dewy look could +be surprised in her dark eyes occasionally. She had the effect of a +creature with something yeasty bottled inside it that was beginning to +ferment and might effervesce at any minute. Eileen had been so surprised +the previous evening and again before dinner, that she made up her mind +that hereafter one might expect almost anything from Linda. She would no +longer follow a suggestion unless the suggestion accorded with her sense +of right and justice. It was barely possible that it might be required +to please her inclinations. Eileen's mind worked with unbelievable +swiftness. She tore at her subject like a vulture tearing at a feast, +and like a vulture she reached the vitals swiftly. She prefaced her +question with a dry laugh. Then she leaned forward and asked softly: +“Linda, dear, why haven't you told me?” + +Linda's eyes were so clear and honest as they met Eileen's that she +almost hesitated. + +“A little more explicit, please,” said the girl quietly. + +“WHO IS HE?” asked Eileen abruptly. + +“Oh, I haven't narrowed to an individual,” said Linda largely “You have +noticed a flock of boys following me from school and hanging around the +front door? I have such hosts to choose from that it's going to take a +particularly splendid knight on a snow-white charger--I think 'charger' +is the proper word--to capture my young affections.” + +Eileen was satisfied. There wasn't any he. She might for a short time +yet cut Linda's finances to the extreme limit. Whenever a man appeared +on the horizon she would be forced to make a division at least +approaching equality. + +Linda followed Eileen to the living room and sat down with a book until +John Gilman arrived. She had a desire to study him for a few minutes. +She was going to write Marian a letter that night. She wanted to know +if she could honestly tell her that Gilman appeared lonely and seemed to +miss her. Katy had no chance to answer the bell when it rang. Eileen was +in the hall. Linda could not tell what was happening from the murmur of +voices. Presently John and Eileen entered the room, and as Linda greeted +him she did have the impression that he appeared unusually thoughtful +and worried. She sat for half an hour, taking slight part in the +conversation. Then she excused herself and went to her room, and as +she went she knew that she could not honestly write Marian what she had +hoped, for in thirty minutes by the clock Eileen's blandishments had +worked, and John Gilman was looking at her as if she were the most +exquisite and desirable creature in existence. + +Slowly Linda climbed the stairs and entered her room. She slid the bolt +of her door behind her, turned on the lights, unlocked a drawer, and +taking from it a heap of materials she scattered them over a small +table, and picking up her pencil, she sat gazing at the sheet before her +for some time. Then slowly she began writing: + +It appeals to me that, far as modern civilization has gone in culinary +efforts, we have not nearly reached the limits available to us as I +pointed out last month. We consider ourselves capable of preparing and +producing elaborate banquets, yet at no time are we approaching anything +even to compare in lavishness and delicacy with the days of Lucullus. +We are not feasting on baked swans, peacock tongues and drinking our +pearls. I am not recommending that we should revive the indulgence of +such lavish and useless expenditure, but I would suggest that if we tire +with the sameness of our culinary efforts, we at least try some of +the new dishes described in this department, established for the sole +purpose of their introduction. In so doing we accomplish a multiple +purpose. We enlarge the resources of the southwest. We tease stale +appetites with a new tang. We offer the world something different, yet +native to us. We use modern methods on Indian material and the results +are most surprising. In trying these dishes I would remind you that few +of us cared for oysters, olives, celery--almost any fruit or vegetable +one could mention on first trial. Try several times and be sure you +prepare dishes exactly right before condemning them as either fad or +fancy. These are very real, nourishing and delicious foods that are +being offered you. Here is a salad that would have intrigued the palate +of Lucullus, himself. If you do not believe me, try it. The vegetable +is slightly known by a few native mountaineers and ranchers. Botanists +carried it abroad where under the name of winter-purslane it is used +in France and England for greens or salad, while remaining practically +unknown at home. Boiled and seasoned as spinach it makes equally good +greens. But it is in salad that it stands pre-eminent. + +Go to any canyon--I shall not reveal the name of my particular +canyon--and locate a bed of miner's lettuce (Montia perfoliata). Growing +in rank beds beside a cold, clean stream, you will find these pulpy, +exquisitely shaped, pungent round leaves from the center of which lifts +a tiny head of misty white lace, sending up a palate-teasing, spicy +perfume. The crisp, pinkish stems snap in the fingers. Be sure that you +wash the leaves carefully so that no lurking germs cling to them. Fill +your salad bowl with the crisp leaves, from which the flowerhead has +been plucked. For dressing, dice a teacup of the most delicious bacon +you can obtain and fry it to a crisp brown together with a small sliced +onion. Add to the fat two tablespoons of sugar, half a teaspoon of +mustard; salt will scarcely be necessary the bacon will furnish that. +Blend the fat, sugar, and mustard, and pour in a measure of the best +apple vinegar, diluted to taste. Bring this mixture to the boiling +point, and when it has cooled slightly pour it over the lettuce leaves, +lightly turning with a silver fork. Garnish the edge of the dish with +a deep border of the fresh leaves bearing their lace of white bloom +intact, around the edge of the bowl, and sprinkle on top the sifted +yolks of two hard-boiled eggs, heaping the diced whites in the center. + +Linda paused and read this over carefully. + +“That is all right,” she said. “I couldn't make that much better.” + +She made a few corrections here and there, and picking up a colored +pencil, she deftly sketched in a head piece of delicate sprays of +miners' lettuce tipped at differing angles, fringy white with bloom. +Below she printed: “A delicious Indian salad. The second of a series +of new dishes to be offered made from materials used by the Indians. +Compounded and tested in her own diet kitchen by the author.” + +Swiftly she sketched a tail piece representing a table top upon which +sat a tempting-looking big salad bowl filled with fresh green leaves, +rimmed with a row of delicate white flowers, from which you could almost +scent a teasing delicate fragrance arising; and beneath, in a clear, +firm hand, she stroked in the name, Jane Meredith. She went over her +work carefully, then laid it flat on a piece of cardboard, shoved it +into an envelope, directed it to the editor of Everybody's Home, laid it +inside her geometry, and wrote her letter to Marian before going to bed. + +In the morning on her way to the street car she gaily waved to a passing +automobile going down Lilac Valley, in which sat John Gilman and Peter +Morrison and his architect, and as they were driving in the direction +from which she had come, Linda very rightly surmised that they were +going to pick up Eileen and make a tour of the valley, looking for +available building locations; and she wondered why Eileen had not told +her that they were coming. Linda had been right about the destination +of the car. It turned in at the Strong driveway and stopped at the door. +John Gilman went to ring the bell and learn if Eileen were ready. Peter +followed him. Henry Anderson stepped from the car and wandered over the +lawn, looking at the astonishing array of bushes, vines, flowers, and +trees. + +From one to another he went, fingering the waxy leaves, studying the +brilliant flower faces. Finally turning a corner and crossing the wild +garden, to which he paid slight attention, he started down the other +side of the house. Here an almost overpowering odor greeted his +nostrils, and he went over to a large tree covered with rough, dark +green, almost brownish, lance-shaped leaves, each branch terminating +in a heavy spray of yellowish-green flowers, whose odor was of cloying +sweetness. The bees were buzzing over it. It was not a tree with which +he was familiar, and stepping back, he looked at it carefully. Then at +its base, wind-driven into a crevice between the roots, his attention +was attracted to a crumpled sheet of paper, upon which he could see +lines that would have attracted the attention of any architect. He went +forward instantly, picked up the sheet, and straightening it out he +stood looking at it. + +“Holy smoke!” he breathed softly. “What a find!” + +He looked at the reverse of the sheet, his face becoming more intent +every minute. When he heard Peter Morrison's voice calling him he +hastily thrust the paper into his coat pocket; but he had gone only +a few steps when he stopped, glanced keenly over the house and lawn, +turned his back, and taking the sheet from his pocket, he smoothed it +out, folded it carefully, and put it in an inside pocket. Then he joined +the party. + +At once they set out to examine the available locations that yet +remained in Lilac Valley. Nature provided them a wonderful day of snappy +sunshine and heady sea air. Spring favored them with lilac walls at +their bluest, broken here and there with the rose-misted white mahogany. +The violet nightshade was beginning to add deeper color to the hills +in the sunniest wild spots. The panicles of mahonia bloom were showing +their gold color. Wild flowers were lifting leaves of feather and lace +everywhere, and most agreeable on the cool morning air was a faint +breath of California sage. Up one side of the valley, weaving in and +out, up and down, over the foothills they worked their way. They stopped +for dinner at one of the beautiful big hotels, practically filled with +Eastern tourists. Eileen never had known a prouder moment than when she +took her place at the head of the table and presided over the dinner +which was served to three most attractive specimens of physical manhood, +each of whom was unusually well endowed with brain, all flattering her +with the most devoted attention. This triumph she achieved in a dining +room seating hundreds of people, its mirror-lined walls reflecting +her exquisite image from many angles, to the click of silver, and +the running accompaniment of many voices. What she had expected to +accomplish in her own dining room had come to her before a large +audience, in which, she had no doubt, there were many envious women. +Eileen rayed loveliness like a Mariposa lily, and purred in utter +contentment like a deftly stroked kitten. + +When they parted in the evening Peter Morrison had memoranda of three +locations that he wished to consider. That he might not seem to be +unduly influenced or to be giving the remainder of Los Angeles County +its just due, he proposed to motor around for a week before reaching +an ultimate decision, but in his heart he already had decided that +somewhere near Los Angeles he would build his home, and as yet he had +seen nothing nearly so attractive as Lilac Valley. + + + +CHAPTER VII. Trying Yucca + +On her way to school that morning Linda stopped at the post office +and pasted the required amount of stamps upon the package that she was +mailing to New York. She hurried from her last class that afternoon +to the city directory to find the street and number of James Brothers, +figuring that the firm with whom Marian dealt would be the proper people +for her to consult. She had no difficulty in finding the place for which +she was searching, and she was rather agreeably impressed with the men +to whom she talked. She made arrangements with their buyer to call at +her home in Lilac Valley at nine o'clock the following Saturday morning +to appraise the articles with which she wished to part. + +Then she went to one of the leading book stores of the city and made +inquiries which guided her to a reliable second-hand book dealer, and +she arranged to be ready to receive his representative at ten o'clock on +Saturday. + +Reaching home she took a note book and pencil, and studied the billiard +room and the library, making a list of the furniture which she did not +actually need. After that she began on the library shelves, listing such +medical works as were of a technical nature. Books of fiction, history, +art, and biography, and those books written by her father she did not +include. She found that she had a long task which would occupy several +evenings. Her mind was methodical and she had been with her father +through sufficient business transactions to understand that in order to +drive a good bargain she must know how many volumes she had to offer and +the importance of their authors as medical authorities; she should also +know the exact condition of each set of books. Since she had made up +her mind to let them go, and she knew the value of many of the big, +leather-bound volumes, she determined that she would not sell them until +she could secure the highest possible price for them. + +Two months previously she would have consulted John Gilman and asked him +to arrange the transaction for her. Since he had allowed himself to be +duped so easily--or at least it had seemed easy to Linda; for, much +as she knew of Eileen, she could not possibly know the weeks of secret +plotting, the plans for unexpected meetings, the trumped-up business +problems necessary to discuss, the deliberate flaunting of her physical +charms before him, all of which had made his conquest extremely hard +for Eileen, but Linda, seeing only results, had thought it contemptibly +easy--she would not ask John Gilman anything. She would go ahead on the +basis of her agreement with Eileen and do the best she could alone. + +She counted on Saturday to dispose of the furniture. The books might +go at her leisure. Then the first of the week she could select such +furniture as she desired in order to arrange the billiard room for her +study. If she had a suitable place in which to work in seclusion, there +need be no hurry about the library. She conscientiously prepared all +the lessons required in her school course for the next day and then, +stacking her books, she again unlocked the drawer opened the previous +evening, and taking from it the same materials, set to work. She wrote: + +Botanists have failed to mention that there is any connection between +asparagus, originally a product of salt marshes, and Yucca, a product of +the alkaline desert. Very probably there is no botanical relationship, +but these two plants are alike in flavor. From the alkaline, sunbeaten +desert where the bayonet plant thrusts up a tender bloom head six inches +in height, it slowly increases in stature as it travels across country +more frequently rain washed, and winds its way beside mountain streams +to where in more fertile soil and the same sunshine it develops +magnificent specimens from ten to fifteen and more feet in height. +The plant grows a number of years before it decides to flower. When it +reaches maturity it throws up a bloom stem as tender as the delicate +head of asparagus, thick as one's upper arm, and running to twice one's +height. This bloom stem in its early stages is colored the pale pink of +asparagus, with faint touches of yellow, and hints of blue. At maturity +it breaks into a gorgeous head of lavender-tinted, creamy pendent +flowers covering the upper third of its height, billowing out slightly +in the center, so that from a distance the waxen torch takes on very +much the appearance of a flaming candle. For this reason, in Mexico, +where the plant flourishes in even greater abundance than in California, +with the exquisite poetry common to the tongue and heart of the +Spaniard, Yucca Whipplei has been commonly named “Our Lord's Candle.” At +the most delicate time of their growth these candlesticks were roasted +and eaten by the Indians. Based upon this knowledge, I would recommend +two dishes, almost equally delicious, which may be prepared from this +plant. + +Take the most succulent young bloom stems when they have exactly the +appearance of an asparagus head at its moment of delicious perfection. +With a sharp knife, cut them in circles an inch in depth. Arrange these +in a shallow porcelain baking dish, sprinkle with salt, dot them with +butter, add enough water to keep them from sticking and burning. Bake +until thoroughly tender. Use a pancake turner to slide the rings to a +hot platter, and garnish with circles of hard-boiled egg. This you will +find an extremely delicate and appetizing dish. + +The second recipe I would offer is to treat this vegetable precisely as +you would creamed asparagus. Cut the stalks in six-inch lengths, quarter +them to facilitate cooking and handling, and boil in salted water. +Drain, arrange in a hot dish, and pour over a carefully made cream +sauce. I might add that one stalk would furnish sufficient material for +several families. This dish should be popular in southwestern states +where the plant grows profusely; and to cultivate these plants for +shipping to Eastern markets would be quite as feasible as the shipping +of asparagus, rhubarb, artichokes, or lettuce. + +I have found both these dishes peculiarly appetizing, but I should be +sorry if, in introducing Yucca as a food, I became instrumental in the +extermination of this universal and wonderfully beautiful plant. For +this reason I have hesitated about including Yucca among these articles; +but when I see the bloom destroyed ruthlessly by thousands who cut it to +decorate touring automobiles and fruit and vegetable stands beside the +highways, who carry it from its native location and stick it in the +parching sun of the seashore as a temporary shelter, I feel that the +bloom stems might as well be used for food as to be so ruthlessly +wasted. + +The plant is hardy in the extreme, growing in the most unfavorable +places, clinging tenaciously to sheer mountain and canyon walls. After +blooming and seeding the plant seems to have thrown every particle of +nourishment it contains into its development, it dries out and dies (the +spongy wood is made into pincushions for the art stores); but from the +roots there spring a number of young plants, which, after a few years +of growth, mature and repeat their life cycle, while other young plants +develop from the widely scattered seeds. The Spaniards at times call the +plant Quiota. This word seems to be derived from quiotl, which is +the Aztec name for Agave, from which plant a drink not unlike beer is +produced, and suggests the possibility that there might have been a time +when the succulent flower stem of the Yucca furnished drink as well as +food for the Indians. + +After carefully re-reading and making several minor corrections, Linda +picked up her pencil, and across the top of a sheet of heavy paper +sketched the peaks of a chain of mountains. Across the base she drew +a stretch of desert floor, bristling with the thorns of many different +cacti brilliant with their gold, pink, and red bloom, intermingled with +fine grasses and desert flower faces. + +At the left she painstakingly drew a huge plant of yucca with a perfect +circle of bayonets, from the center of which uprose the gigantic flower +stem the length of her page, and on the misty bloom of the flaming +tongue she worked quite as late as Marian Thorne had ever seen a light +burning in her window. When she had finished her drawing she studied it +carefully a long time, adding a touch here and there, and then she said +softly: “There, Daddy, I feel that even you would think that a faithful +reproduction Tomorrow night I'll paint it.” + +John Gilman saw the light from Linda's window when he brought Eileen +home that night, and when he left he glanced that way again, and was +surprised to see the room still lighted, and the young figure bending +over a worktable. He stood very still for a few minutes, wondering what +could keep Linda awake so far into the night, and while his thoughts +were upon her he wondered, too, why she did not care to have beautiful +clothes such as Eileen wore; and then he went further and wondered why, +when she could be as entertaining as she had been the night she joined +them at dinner, she did not make her appearance oftener; and then, +because the mind is a queer thing, and he had wondered about a given +state of affairs, he went a step further, and wondered whether the +explanation lay in Linda's inclinations or in Eileen's management, +and then his thought fastened tenaciously upon the subject of Eileen's +management. + +He was a patient man. He had allowed his reason and better judgment to +be swayed by Eileen's exquisite beauty and her blandishments. He did not +regret having discovered before it was too late that Marian Thorne +was not the girl he had thought her. He wanted a wife cut after the +clinging-vine pattern. He wanted to be the dominating figure in +his home. It had not taken Eileen long to teach him that Marian was +self-assertive and would do a large share of dominating herself. He had +thought that he was perfectly satisfied and very happy with Eileen; yet +that day he repeatedly had felt piqued and annoyed with her. She had +openly cajoled and flirted with Henry Anderson past a point which was +agreeable for any man to see his sweetheart go with another man With +Peter Morrison she had been unspeakably charming in a manner with which +John was very familiar. + +He turned up his coat collar, thrust his hands in his pockets, and swore +softly. Looking straight ahead of him, he should have seen a stretch of +level sidewalk, bordered on one hand by lacy, tropical foliage, on the +other, by sheets of level green lawn, broken everywhere by the uprising +boles of great trees, clumps of rare vines, and rows of darkened homes, +attractive in architectural 'design' vine covered, hushed for the night. +What he really saw was a small plateau, sun illumined, at the foot of a +mountain across the valley, where the lilac wall was the bluest, where +the sun shone slightly more golden than anywhere else in the valley, +where huge live oaks outstretched rugged arms, where the air had a tang +of salt, a tinge of sage, an odor of orange, shot through with snowy +coolness, thrilled with bird song, and the laughing chuckle of a big +spring breaking from the foot of the mountain. They had left the road +and followed a narrow, screened path by which they came unexpectedly +into this opening. They had stood upon it in wordless enchantment, +looking down the slope beneath it, across the peace of the valley, to +the blue ranges beyond. + +“Just where are we?” Peter Morrison had asked at last. + +John Gilman had been looking at a view which included Eileen. She lifted +her face, flushed and exquisite, to Peter Morrison and answered in a +breathless undertone, yet John had distinctly heard her: + +“How wonderful it would be if we were at your house. Oh, I envy the +woman who shares this with you!” + +It had not been anything in particular, yet all day it had teased John +Gilman's sensibilities. He felt ashamed of himself for not being more +enthusiastic as he searched records and helped to locate the owner of +that particular spot. To John, there was a new tone in Peter's voice, +a possessive light in his eyes as he studied the location, and made +excursions in several directions, to fix in his mind the exact position +of the land. + +He had indicated what he considered the topographical location for a +house--stood on it facing the valley, and stepped the distance suitably +far away to set a garage and figured on a short private road down to the +highway. He very plainly was deeply prepossessed with a location John +Gilman blamed himself for not having found first. Certainly nature had +here grown and walled a dream garden in which to set a house of dreams. +So, past midnight, Gilman stood in the sunshine, looking at the face of +the girl he had asked to marry him and who had said that she would; +and a small doubt crept into his heart, and a feeling that perhaps life +might be different for him if Peter Morrison decided to come to Lilac +Valley to build his home. Then the sunlight faded, night closed in, but +as he went his homeward way John Gilman was thinking, thinking deeply +and not at all happily. + + + +CHAPTER VIII. The Bear Cat + + “Friday's child is loving and giving, + But Saturday's child must work for a living,” + +Linda was chanting happily as she entered the kitchen early Saturday +morning. + +“Katy, me blessing,” she said gaily, “did I ever point out to you the +interesting fact that I was born on Saturday? And a devilish piece of +luck it was, for I have been hustling ever since. It's bad enough to +have been born on Monday and spoiled wash day, but I call Saturday the +vanishing point, the end of the extreme limit.” + +Katy laughed, and, as always, turned adoring eyes on Linda. + +“I am not needing ye, lambie,” she said. “Is it big business in the +canyon ye're having today? Shall I be ready to be cooking up one of them +God-forsaken Red Indian messes for ye when ye come back?” + +Linda held up a warning finger. + +“Hiss, Katy,” she said. “That is a dark secret. Don't you be forgetting +yourself and saying anything like that before anyone, or I would be +ruined entirely.” + +“Well, I did think when ye began it,” said Katy, “that of all the wild +foolishness ye and your pa had ever gone through with, that was the +worst, but that last mess ye worked out was so tasty to the tongue that +I thought of it a lot, and I'm kind o' hankering for more.” + +Linda caught Katy and swung her around the kitchen in a wild war dance. +Her gayest laugh bubbled clear from the joy peak of her soul. + +“Katy,” she said, “if you had lain awake all night trying to say +something that would particularly please me, you couldn't have done +better. That was a quaint little phrase and a true little phrase, and +I know a little spot that it will fit exactly. What am I doing today? +Well, several things, Katy. First, anything you need about the house. +Next, I am going to empty the billiard room and sell some of the excess +furniture of the library, and with the returns I am going to buy me a +rug and a table and some tools to work with, so I won't have to clutter +up my bedroom with my lessons and things I bring in that I want to save. +And then I am going to sell the technical stuff from the library and use +that money where it will be of greatest advantage to me. And then, Katy, +I am going to manicure the Bear Cat and I am going to drive it again.” + +Linda hesitated. Katy stood very still, thinking intently, but finally +she said: “That's all right; ye have got good common sense; your nerves +are steady; your pa drilled ye fine. Many's the time he has bragged to +me behind your back what a fine little driver he was making of ye. I +don't know a girl of your age anywhere that has less enjoyment than ye. +If it would be giving ye any happiness to be driving that car, ye just +go ahead and drive it, lambie, but ye promise me here and now that +ye will be mortal careful. In all my days I don't think I have seen a +meaner-looking little baste of a car.” + +“Of course I'll be careful, Katy,” said Linda. “That car was not bought +for its beauty. Its primal object in this world was to arrive. Gee, how +we shot curves, and coasted down the canyons, and gassed up on the level +when some poor soul went batty from nerve strain! The truth is, Katy, +that you can't drive very slowly. You have got to go the speed for which +it was built. But I have had my training. I won't forget. I adore that +car, Katy, and I don't know how I have ever kept my fingers off it +this long. Today it gets a bath and a facial treatment, and when I have +thought up some way to meet my big problem, you're going to have a ride, +Katy, that will quite uplift your soul. We'll go scooting through the +canyons, and whizzing around the mountains, and roaring along the beach, +as slick as a white sea swallow.” + +“Now, easy, lambie, easy,” said Katy. “Ye're planning to speed that +thing before ye've got it off the jacks.” + +“No, that was mere talk,” said Linda. “But, Katy, this is my great day. +I feel in my bones that I shall have enough money by night to get me +some new tires, which I must have before I can start out in safety.” + +“Of course ye must, honey. I would just be tickled to pieces to let ye +have what ye need.” + +Linda slid her hand across Katy's lips and gathered her close in her +arms. + +“You blessed old darling,” she said. “Of course you would, but I don't +need it, Katy. I can sit on the floor to work, if I must, and instead of +taking the money from the billiard table to buy a worktable, I can buy +tires with that. But here's another thing I want to tell you, Katy. This +afternoon a male biped is coming to this house, and he's not coming to +see Eileen. His name is Donald Whiting, and when he tells you it is, and +stands very straight and takes off his hat, and looks you in the eye +and says, 'Calling on Miss Linda Strong,' walk him into the living room, +Katy, and seat him in the best chair and put a book beside him and the +morning paper; and don't you forget to do it with a flourish. He is +nothing but a high-school kid, but he's the first boy that ever in all +my days asked to come to see me so it's a big event; and I wish to my +soul I had something decent to wear.” + +“Well, with all the clothes in this house,” said Katy; and then she +stopped and shut her lips tight and looked at Linda with belligerent +Irish eyes. + +“I know it,” nodded Linda in acquiescence; “I know what you think; but +never mind. Eileen has agreed to make me a fair allowance the first of +the month, and if that isn't sufficient, I may possibly figure up some +way to do some extra work that will bring me a few honest pennies, so +I can fuss up enough to look feminine at times, Katy. In the meantime, +farewell, oh, my belovedest. Call me at half-past eight, so I will be +ready for business at nine.” + +Then Linda went to the garage and began operations. She turned the hose +on the car and washed the dust from it carefully. Then she dried it with +the chamois skins as she often had done before. She carefully examined +the cushioning, and finding it dry and hard, she gave it a bath of olive +oil and wiped and manipulated it. She cleaned the engine with extreme +care. At one minute she was running to Katy for kerosene to pour through +the engine to loosen the carbon. At another she was telephoning for the +delivery of oil, gasoline, and batteries for which she had no money to +pay, so she charged them to Eileen, ordering the bill to be sent on the +first of the month. It seemed to her that she had only a good start when +Katy came after her. + +The business of appraising the furniture was short, and Linda was well +satisfied with the price she was offered for it. After the man had gone +she showed Katy the pieces she had marked to dispose of, and told +her when they would be called for. She ate a few bites of lunch while +waiting for the book man, and the results of her business with him quite +delighted Linda. She had not known that the value of books had risen +with the price of everything else. The man with whom she dealt had known +her father. He had appreciated the strain in her nature which made her +suggest that he should number and appraise the books, but she must be +allowed time to go through each volume in order to remove any scraps of +paper or memoranda which her father so frequently left in books to which +he was referring. He had figured carefully and he had made Linda a far +higher price than could have been secured by a man. As the girl went +back to her absorbing task in the garage, she could see her way clear to +the comforts and conveniences and the material that she needed for her +work. When she reached the car she patted it as if it had been a living +creature. + +“Cheer up, nice old thing,” she said gaily. “I know how to get new tires +for you, and you shall drink all the gasoline and oil your tummy can +hold. Now let me see. What must I do next? I must get you off your +jacks; and oh, my gracious there are the grease cups, and that's a nasty +job, but it must be done; and what is the use of Saturday if I can't do +it? Daddy often did.” + +Linda began work in utter absorption. She succeeded in getting the car +off the jacks. She was lying on her back under it, filling some of the +most inaccessible grease cups, and she was softly singing as she worked: + +“The shoes I wear are common-sense shoes--” + +At that minute Donald Whiting swung down the street, turned in at the +Strong residence, and rang the bell. Eileen was coming down the stairs, +dressed for the street. She had inquired for Linda, and Katy had told +her that she thought Miss Linda had decided to begin using her car, and +that she was in the garage working on it. To Eileen's credit it may be +said that she had not been told that a caller was expected. Linda never +before had had a caller and, as always, Eileen was absorbed in her own +concerns. Had she got the rouge a trifle brighter on one cheek than on +the other? Was the powder evenly distributed? Would the veil hold the +handmade curls in exactly the proper place? When the bell rang her one +thought might have been that some of her friends were calling for her. +She opened the door, and when she learned that Linda was being asked +for, it is possible that she mistook the clean, interesting, and +well-dressed youngster standing before her for a mechanic. What she said +was: “Linda's working on her car. Go around to the left and you will +find her in the garage, and for heaven's sake, get it right before you +let her start out, for we've had enough horror in this family from motor +accidents.” + +Then she closed the door before him and stood buttoning her gloves; a +wicked and malicious smile spreading over her face. + +“Just possibly,” she said, “that youngster is from a garage, but if he +is, he's the best imitation of the real thing that I have seen in these +chaotic days.” + +Donald Whiting stopped at the garage door and looked in, before Linda +had finished her grease cups, and in time to be informed that he might +wear common-sense shoes if he chose. At his step, Linda rolled her black +head on the cement floor and raised her eyes. She dropped the grease +cup, and her face reddened deeply. + +“Oh, my Lord!” she gasped breathlessly. “I forgot to tell Katy when to +call me!” + +In that instant she also forgot that the stress of the previous four +years had accustomed men to seeing women do any kind of work in any kind +of costume; but soon Linda realized that Donald Whiting was not paying +any particular attention either to her or to her occupation. He was +leaning forward, gazing at the car with positively an enraptured +expression on his eager young face. + +“Shades of Jehu!” he cried. “It's a Bear Cat!” + +Linda felt around her head for the grease cup. + +“Why, sure it's a Bear Cat,” she said with the calmness of complete +recovery. “And it's just about ready to start for its very own cave in +the canyon.” + +Donald Whiting pitched his hat upon the seat, shook off his coat, and +sent it flying after the hat. Then he began unbuttoning and turning back +his sleeves. + +“Here, let me do that,” he said authoritatively. “Gee! I have never yet +ridden in a Bear Cat. Take me with you, will you, Linda?” + +“Sure,” said Linda, pressing the grease into the cup with a little +paddle and holding it up to see if she had it well filled. “Sure, but +there's no use in you getting into this mess, because I have only got +two more. You look over the engine. Did you ever grind valves, and do +you think these need it?” + +“Why, they don't need it,” said Donald, “if they were all right when it +was jacked up.” + +“Well, they were,” said Linda. “It was running like a watch when it went +to sleep. But do we dare take it out on these tires?” + +“How long has it been?” asked Donald, busy at the engine. + +“All of four years,” answered Linda. + +Donald whistled softly and started a circuit of the car, kicking the +tires and feeling them. + +“Have you filled them?” he asked. + +“No,” said Linda. “I did not want to start the engine until I had +finished everything else.” + +“All right,” he said, “I'll look at the valves first and then, if it is +all ready, there ought to be a garage near that we can run to carefully, +and get tuned up.” + +“There is,” said Linda. “There is one only a few blocks down the street +where Dad always had anything done that he did not want to do himself.” + +“That's that, then,” said Donald. + +Linda crawled from under the car and stood up, wiping her hands on a bit +of waste. + +“Do you know what tires cost now?” she asked anxiously. + +“They have 'em at the garage,” answered Donald, “and if I were you, +I wouldn't get a set; I would get two. I would-put them on the rear +wheels. You might be surprised at how long some of these will last. +Anyway, that would be the thing to do.” + +“Of course,” said Linda, in a relieved tone. “That would be the thing to +do.” + +“Now,” she said, “I must be excused a few minutes till I clean up so I +am fit to go on the streets. I hope you won't think I forgot you were +coming.” + + + +Donald laughed drily. + +“When 'shoes' was the first word I heard,” he said, “I did not for a +minute think you had forgotten.” + +“No, I didn't forget,” said Linda. “What I did do was to become so +excited about cleaning up the car that I let time go faster than I +thought it could. That was what made me late.” + +“Well, forget it!” said Donald. “Run along and jump into something, and +let us get our tires and try Kitty out.” + +Linda reached up and released the brakes. She stepped to one side of the +car and laid her hands on it. + +“Let us run it down opposite the kitchen door,” she said, “then you go +around to the front, and I'll let you in, and you can read something a +few minutes till I make myself presentable.” + +“Oh, I'll stay out here and look around the yard and go over the car +again,” said the boy. “What a bunch of stuff you have got growing here; +I don't believe I ever saw half of it before.” “It's Daddy's and my +collection,” said Linda. “Some day I'll show you some of the things, and +tell you how we got them, and why they are rare. Today I just naturally +can't wait a minute until I try my car.” + +“Is it really yours?” asked Donald enviously. + +“Yes,” said Linda. “It's about the only thing on earth that is +peculiarly and particularly mine. I haven't a doubt there are improved +models, but Daddy had driven this car only about nine months. It was +going smooth as velvet, and there's no reason why it should not keep it +up, though I suspect that by this time there are later models that could +outrun it.” + +“Oh, I don't know,” said the boy. “It looks like some little old car to +me. I bet it can just skate.” + +“I know it can,” said Linda, “if I haven't neglected something. We'll +start carefully, and we'll have the inspector at the salesrooms look it +over.” + +Then Linda entered the kitchen door to find Katy with everything edible +that the house afforded spread before her on the table. + +“Why, Katy, what are you doing?” she asked. + +“I was makin' ready,” explained Katy, “to fix ye the same kind of lunch +I would for Miss Eileen. Will ye have it under the live oak, or in the +living room?” + +“Neither,” said Linda. “Come upstairs with me, and in the storeroom +you'll find the lunch case and the thermos bottles and don't stint +yourself, Katy. This is a rare occasion. It never happened before. +Probably it will never happen again. Let's make it high altitude while +we are at it.” + +“I'll do my very best with what I happen to have,” said Katy; “but I +warn you right now I am making a good big hole in the Sunday dinner.” + +“I don't give two whoops,” said Linda, “if there isn't any Sunday +dinner. In memory of hundreds of times that we have eaten bread and +milk, make it a banquet, Katy, and we'll eat bread and milk tomorrow.” + +Then she took the stairway at a bound, and ran to her room. In a +very short time she emerged, clad in a clean blouse and breeches' her +climbing boots, her black hair freshly brushed and braided. + +“I ought to have something,” said Linda, “to shade my eyes. The +glare's hard on them facing the sun.” + +Going down the hall she came to the storeroom, opened a drawer' and +picked out a fine black felt Alpine hat that had belonged to her father. +She carried it back to her room and, standing at the glass, tried it on, +pulling it down on one side, turning it up at the other, and striking +a deep cleft across the crown. She looked at herself intently for a +minute, and then she reached up and deliberately loosened the hair at +her temples. + +“Not half bad, all things considered, Linda,” she said. “But, oh, how +you do need a tich of color.” + +She ran down the hall and opened the door to Eileen's room, and going +to her chiffonier, pulled out a drawer containing an array of gloves, +veils, and ribbons. At the bottom of the ribbon stack, her eye caught +the gleam of color for which she was searching, and she deftly slipped +out a narrow scarf of Roman stripes with a deep black fringe at the +end. Sitting down, she fitted the hat over her knee, picked up the +dressing-table scissors, and ripped off the band. In its place she +fitted the ribbon, pinning it securely and knotting the ends so that the +fringe reached her shoulder. Then she tried the hat again. The result +was blissfully satisfactory. The flash of orange, the blaze of red, the +gleam of green, were what she needed. + +“Thank you very much, sister mine,” she said, “I know you I would be +perfectly delighted to loan me this.” + + + +CHAPTER IX. One Hundred Per Cent Plus + +Then she went downstairs and walked into the kitchen, prepared for what +she would see, by what she heard as she approached. + +With Katy's apron tied around his waist, Donald Whiting was occupied in +squeezing orange, lemon, and pineapple juice over a cake of ice in a big +bowl, preparatory to the compounding of Katy's most delicious brand of +fruit punch. Without a word, Linda stepped to the bread board and +began slicing the bread and building sandwiches, while Katy hurried her +preparations for filling the lunch box. A few minutes later Katy packed +them in the car, kissed Linda good-bye, and repeatedly cautioned Donald +to make her be careful. + +As the car rolled down the driveway and into the street, Donald looked +appraisingly at the girl beside him. + +“Is it the prevailing custom in Lilac Valley for young ladies to kiss +the cook?” inquired Donald laughingly. + +“Now, you just hush,” said Linda. “Katy is NOT the cook, alone. Katy's +my father, and my mother, and my family, and my best friend--” + +“Stop right there,” interposed Donald. “That is quite enough for any +human to be. Katy's a multitude. She came out to the car with the +canteen, and when I offered to help her, without any 'polly foxin',' she +just said: 'Sure. Come in and make yourself useful.' So I went, and I am +expecting amazing results from the job she gave me.” + +“Come to think of it,” said Linda, “I have small experience with +anybody's cooking except Katy's and my own, but so far as I know, she +can't very well be beaten.” + +Carefully she headed the car into the garage adjoining the salesrooms. +There she had an ovation. The manager and several of the men remembered +her. The whole force clustered around the Bear Cat and began to examine +it, and comment on it, and Linda climbed out and asked to have the +carburetor adjusted, while the mechanic put on a pair of tires. When +everything was satisfactory, she backed to the street, and after a few +blocks of experimental driving, she headed for the Automobile Club to +arrange for her license and then turned straight toward Multiflores +Canyon, but she did not fail to call Donald Whiting's attention to every +beauty of Lilac Valley as they passed through. When they had reached +a long level stretch of roadway leading to the canyon, Linda glanced +obliquely at the boy beside her. + +“It all comes back as natural as breathing,” she said. “I couldn't +forget it any more than I could forget how to walk, or to swim. Sit +tight. I am going to step on the gas for a bit, just for old sake's +sake.” + +“That's all right,” said Donald, taking off his hat and giving his head +a toss so that the wind might have full play through his hair. “But +remember our tires are not safe. Better not go the limit until we get +rid of these old ones, and have a new set all around.” + +Linda settled back in her seat, took a firm grip on the wheel, and +started down the broad, smooth highway, gradually increasing the speed. +The color rushed to her cheeks. Her eyes were gleaming. + +“Listen to it purr!” she cried to Donald. “If you hear it begin to +growl, tell me.” + +And then for a few minutes they rode like birds on the path of the wind. +When they approached the entrance to the canyon, gradually Linda slowed +down. She turned an exultant flashing face to Donald Whiting. + +“That was a whizzer,” said the boy. “I'll tell you I don't know what I'd +give to have a car like this for my very own. I'll bet not another girl +in Los Angeles has a car that can go like that.” + +“And I don't believe I have any business with it,” said Linda; “but +since circumstances make it mine, I am going to keep it and I am going +to drive it.” + +“Of course you are,” said Donald emphatically. “Don't you ever let +anybody fool you out of this car, because if they wanted to, it would be +just because they are jealous to think they haven't one that will go as +fast.” + +“There's not the slightest possibility of my giving it up so long as I +can make the engine turn over,” she said. “I told you how Father always +took me around with him, and there's nothing in this world I am so sure +of as I am sure that I am spoiled for a house cat. I have probably less +feminine sophistication than any girl of my age in the world, and I +probably know more about camping and fishing and the scientific why and +wherefore of all outdoors than most of them. I just naturally had such +a heavenly time with Daddy that it never has hurt my feelings to be left +out of any dance or party that ever was given. The one thing that has +hurt is the isolation. Since I lost Daddy I haven't anyone but Katy. +Sometimes, when I see a couple of nice, interesting girls visiting with +their heads together, a great feeling of envy wells up in my soul, and I +wish with all my heart that I had such a friend.” + +“Ever try to make one?” asked Donald. “There are mighty fine girls in +the high school.” + +“I have seen several that I thought I would like to be friends with,” + said Linda, “but I am so lacking in feminine graces that I haven't known +how to make advances, in the first place, and I haven't had the courage, +in the second.” + +“I wish my sister were not so much older than you,” said Donald. + +“How old is your sister?” inquired Linda. + +“She will be twenty-three next birthday,” said Donald; “and of all the +nice girls you ever saw, she is the queen.” + +“Yes,” she assented, “I am sure I have heard your sister mentioned. But +didn't you tell me she had been reared for society?” + +“No, I did not,” said Donald emphatically. “I told you Mother j believed +in dressing her as the majority of other girls were dressed, but I +didn't say she had been reared for society. She has been reared with an +eye single to making a well-dressed, cultured, and gracious woman.” + +“I call that fine,” said Linda. “Makes me envious of you. Now forget +everything except your eyes and tell me what you see. Have you ever been +here before?” + +“I have been through a few times before, but seems to me I | never saw +it looking quite so pretty.” + +Linda drove carefully, but presently Donald uttered an exclamation as +she swerved from the road and started down what appeared to be quite a +steep embankment and headed straight for the stream. + +“Sit tight,” she said tersely. “The Bear Cat just loves its cave. It +knows where it is going.” + +She broke through a group of young willows and ran the car! into a tiny +plateau, walled in a circle by the sheer sides of the! canyon reaching +upward almost out of sight, topped with great jagged overhanging +boulders. Crowded to one side, she stopped the car and sat quietly, +smiling at Donald Whiting. + +“How about it?” she asked in a low voice. + +The boy looked around him, carefully examining the canyon walls, and +then at the level, odorous floor where one could not step without +crushing tiny flowers of white, cerise, blue, and yellow. Big ferns grew +along the walls, here and there “Our Lord's Candles” lifted high torches +not yet lighted, the ambitious mountain stream skipped and circled and +fell over its rocky bed, while many canyon wrens were singing. + +“Do you think,” she said, “that anyone driving along here at an ordinary +rate of speed would see that car?” + +“No,” said Donald, getting her idea, “I don't believe they would.” + + + +“All right, then,” said Linda. “Toe up even and I'll race YoU to the +third curve where you see the big white sycamore.” + +Donald had a fleeting impression of a flash of khaki, a gleam of red, +and a wave of black as they started. He ran with all the speed he had +ever attained at a track meet. He ran with all his might. He ran until +his sides strained and his breath came short; but the creature beside +him was not running; she was flying; and long before they neared the +sycamore he knew he was beaten, so he laughingly cried to her to stop +it. Linda turned to him panting and laughing. + +“I make that dash every time I come to the canyon, to keep my muscle +up, but this is the first time I have had anyone to race with in a long +time.” + +Then together they slowly walked down the smooth black floor between +the canyon walls. As they crossed a small bridge Linda leaned over and +looked down. + +“Anyone at your house care about 'nose twister'?” she asked lightly. + +“Why, isn't that watercress?” asked Donald. + +“Sure it is,” said Linda. “Anyone at your house like it?” + +“Every one of us,” answered Donald. “We're all batty about cress +salad--and, say, that reminds me of something! If you know so much +about this canyon and everything in it, is there any place in it where +a fellow could find a plant, a kind of salad lettuce, that the Indians +used to use?” + +“Might be,” said Linda carelessly. “For why?” + +“Haven't you heard of the big sensation that is being made in feminine +circles by the new department in Everybody's Home?” inquired Donald. +“Mother and Mary Louise were discussing it the other day at lunch, and +they said that some of the recipes for dishes to be made from stuff the +Indians used sounded delicious. One reminded them of cress, and when we +saw the cress I wondered if I could get them some of the other.” + +“Might,” said Linda drily, “if you could give me a pretty good idea of +what it is that you want.” + +“When you know cress, it's queer that you wouldn't know other things in +your own particular canyon,” said Donald. + +Linda realized that she had overdone her disinterestedness a trifle. + +“I suspect it's miners' lettuce you want,” she said. “Of course I know +where there's some, but you will want it as fresh as possible if you +take any, so we'll finish our day first and gather it the last thing +before we leave.” + +How it started neither of them noticed, but they had not gone far before +they were climbing the walls and hanging to precarious footings. Her +cheeks flushed, her eyes brilliant, her lips laughing, Linda was +showing Donald thrifty specimens of that Cotyledon known as “old hen and +chickens,” telling him of the rare Echeveria of the same family, and her +plunge down the canyon side while trying to uproot it, exulting that she +had brought down the plant without a rift in the exquisite bloom on its +leaves. + +Linda told about her fall, and the two men who had passed at that +instant, and how she had met them later, and who they were, and what +they were doing. Then Donald climbed high for a bunch of larkspur, and +Linda showed him how to turn his back to the canyon wall and come down +with the least possible damage to his person and clothing. When at last +both of them were tired they went back to the car. Linda spread an +old Indian blanket over the least flower-grown spot she could select, +brought out the thermos bottles and lunch case, and served their lunch. +With a glass of fruit punch in one hand and a lettuce sandwich in the +other, Donald smiled at Linda. + +“I'll agree about Katy. She knows how,” he said appreciatively. + +“Katy is more than a cook,” said Linda quietly. “She is a human being. +She has the biggest, kindest heart. When anybody's sick or in trouble +she's the greatest help. She is honest; she has principles; she is +intelligent. In her spare time she reads good books and magazines. +She knows what is going on in the world. She can talk intelligently +on almost any subject. It's no disgrace to be a cook. If it were, Katy +would be unspeakable. Fact is, at the present minute there's no one in +all the world so dear to me as Katy. I always talk Irish with her.” + +“Well, I call that rough on your sister,” said Donald. + +“Maybe it is,” conceded Linda. “I suspect a lady wouldn't have i +said that, but Eileen and I are so different. She never has made the +slightest effort to prove herself lovable to me, and so I have never +learned to love her. Which reminds me--how did you happen to come to the +garage?” + +“The very beautiful young lady who opened the door mistook me for a +mechanic. She told me I would find you working on your car and for +goodness' sake to see that it was in proper condition before you drove +it.” + +Linda looked at him with wide, surprised eyes in which a trace of +indignation was plainly discernible. + +“Now listen to me,” she said deliberately. “Eileen is a most +sophisticated young lady. If she saw you, she never in this world, +thought you were a mechanic sent from a garage presenting yourself at +our front door.” + +“There might have been a spark of malice in the big blue-gray I eyes +that carefully appraised me,” said Donald. + +“Your choice of words is good,” said Linda, refilling the punch glass. +“'Appraise' fits Eileen like her glove. She appraises every thing on a +monetary basis, and when she can't figure that it's going to be worth an +appreciable number of dollars and cents to her--'to the garage wid it,' +as Katy would say.” + +When they had finished their lunch Linda began packing the box and +Donald sat watching her. + +“At this point,” said Linda, “Daddy always smoked. Do you smoke?” + +There was a hint of deeper color in the boy's cheeks. + +“I did smoke an occasional cigarette,” he said lightly, “up to the day, +not a thousand years ago, when a very emphatic young lady who should +have known, insinuated that it was bad for the nerves, and going on the +presumption that she knew, I haven't smoked a cigarette since and I'm +not going to until I find out whether I can do better work without +them.” + +Linda folded napkins and packed away accessories thoughtfully. Then she +looked into the boy's eyes. + +“Now we reach the point of our being here together,” she said. “It's +time to fight, and I am sorry we didn't go at it gas and bomb the minute +we met. You're so different from what I thought you were. If anyone had +told me a week ago that you would take off your coat and mess with my +automobile engine, or wear Katy's apron and squeeze lemons in our +kitchen I would have looked him over for Daddy's high sign of hysteria, +at least. It's too bad to I have such a good time as I have had this +afternoon, and then end with a fight.” + +“That's nothing,” said Donald. “You couldn't have had as good a time as +I have had. You're like another boy. A fellow can be just a fellow with +you, and somehow you make everything you touch mean something it never +meant before. You have made me feel that I would be about twice the man +I am if I had spent the time I have wasted in plain jazzing around, +hunting Cotyledon or trap-door spiders' nests.” + +“I get you,” said Linda. “It's the difference between a girl reared in +an atmosphere of georgette and rouge, and one who has grown up in the +canyons with the oaks and sycamores. One is natural and the other is +artificial. Most boys prefer the artificial.” + +“I thought I did myself,” said Donald, “but today has taught me that I +don't. I think, Linda, that you would make the finest friend a fellow +ever had. I firmly and finally decline to fight with you; but for God's +sake, Linda, tell me how I can beat that little cocoanut-headed Jap.” + +Linda slammed down the lid to the lunch box. Her voice was smooth and +even but there was battle in her eyes and she answered decisively: +“Well, you can't beat him calling him names. There is only one way on +God's footstool that you can beat him. You can't beat him legislating +against him. You can't beat him boycotting him. You can't beat him with +any tricks. He is as sly as a cat and he has got a whole bag full of +tricks of his own, and he has proved right here in Los Angeles that +he has got a brain that is hard to beat. All you can do, and be a man +commendable to your own soul, is to take his subject and put your brain +on it to such purpose that you cut pigeon wings around him. What are you +studying in your classes, anyway?” + +“Trigonometry, Rhetoric, Ancient History, Astronomy,” answered Donald. + +“And is your course the same as his?” inquired Linda. + +“Strangely enough it is,” answered Donald. “We have been in the same +classes all through high school. I think the little monkey--” + +“Man, you mean,” interposed Linda. + +“'Man,'” conceded Donald. “Has waited until I selected my course all the +way through, and then he has announced what he would take. He probably +figured that I had somebody with brains back of the course I selected, +and that whatever I studied would be suitable for him.” + +“I haven't a doubt of it,” said Linda. “They are quick; oh! they are +quick; and they know from their cradles what it is that they have in +the backs of their heads. We are not going to beat them driving them to +Mexico or to Canada, or letting them monopolize China. That is merely +temporizing. That is giving them fertile soil on which to take the best +of their own and the level best of ours, and by amalgamating the two, +build higher than we ever have. There is just one way in all this world +that we can beat Eastern civilization and all that it intends to do to +us eventually. The white man has dominated by his color so far in the +history of the world, but it is written in the Books that when the men +of color acquire our culture and combine it with their own methods of +living and rate of production, they are going to bring forth greater +numbers, better equipped for the battle of life, than we are. When they +have got our last secret, constructive or scientific, they will take it, +and living in a way that we would not, reproducing in numbers we don't, +they will beat us at any game we start, if we don't take warning while +we are in the ascendancy, and keep there.” + +“Well, there is something to think about,” said Donald Whiting, +staring past Linda at the side of the canyon as if he had seen the +same handwriting on the wall that dismayed Belshazzar at the feast that +preceded his downfall. + +“I see what you're getting at,” he said. “I had thought that there might +be some way to circumvent him.” + +“There is!” broke in Linda hastily. “There is. You can beat him, but you +have got to beat him in an honorable way and in a way that is open to +him as it is to you.” + +“I'll do anything in the world if you will only tell me how,” said +Donald. “Maybe you think it isn't grinding me and humiliating me +properly. Maybe you think Father and Mother haven't warned me. Maybe +you think Mary Louise isn't secretly ashamed of me. How can I beat him, +Linda?” + +Linda's eyes were narrowed to a mere line. She was staring at the wall +back of Donald as if she hoped that Heaven would intercede in her favor +and write thereon a line that she might translate to the boy's benefit. + +“I have been watching pretty sharply,” she said. “Take them as a race, +as a unit--of course there are exceptions, there always are--but the +great body of them are mechanical. They are imitative. They are not +developing anything great of their own in their own country. They are +spreading all over the world and carrying home sewing machines and +threshing machines and automobiles and cantilever bridges and submarines +and aeroplanes--anything from eggbeaters to telescopes. They are not +creating one single thing. They are not missing imitating everything +that the white man can do anywhere else on earth. They are just like the +Germans so far as that is concerned.” + +“I get that, all right enough,” said Donald. “Now go on. What is your +deduction? How the devil am I to beat the best? He is perfect, right +straight along in everything.” + +The red in Linda's cheeks deepened. Her eyes opened their widest. She +leaned forward, and with her closed fist, pounded the blanket before +him. + +“Then, by gracious,” she said sternly, “you have got to do something +new. You have got to be perfect, PLUS.” + +“'Perfect, plus?'” gasped Donald. + +“Yes, sir!” said Linda emphatically. “You have got to be perfect, plus. +If he can take his little mechanical brain and work a thing out till he +has got it absolutely right, you have got to go further than that and +discover something pertaining to it not hitherto thought of and start +something NEW. I tell you you must use your brains. You should be more +than an imitator. You must be a creator!” + +Donald started up and drew a deep breath. + +“Well, some job I call that,” he said. “Who do you think I am, the +Almighty?” + +“No,” said Linda quietly, “you are not. You are merely His son, created +in His own image, like Him, according to the Book, and you have got to +your advantage the benefit of all that has been learned down the ages. +We have got to take up each subject in your course, and to find some +different books treating this same subject. We have got to get at it +from a new angle. We must dig into higher authorities. We have got to +coach you till, when you reach the highest note possible for the parrot, +you can go ahead and embellish it with a few mocking-bird flourishes. +All Oka Sayye knows how to do is to learn the lesson in his book +perfectly, and he is 100 per cent. I have told you what you must do +to add the plus, and you can do it if you are the boy I take you for. +People have talked about the 'yellow peril' till it's got to be a +meaningless phrase. Somebody must wake up to the realization that +it's the deadliest peril that ever has menaced white civilization. Why +shouldn't you have your hand in such wonderful work?” + +“Linda,” said the boy breathlessly, “do you realize that you have been +saying 'we'? Can you help me? Will you help me?” + +“No,” said Linda, “I didn't realize that I had said 'we.' I didn't mean +two people, just you and me. I meant all the white boys and girls of the +high school and the city and the state and the whole world. If we are +going to combat the 'yellow peril' we must combine against it. We have +got to curb our appetites and train our brains and enlarge our hearts +till we are something bigger and finer and numerically greater than this +yellow peril. We can't take it and pick it up and push it into the sea. +We are not Germans and we are not Turks. I never wanted anything in all +this world worse than I want to see you graduate ahead of Oka Sayye. And +then I want to see the white boys and girls of Canada and of England and +of Norway and Sweden and Australia, and of the whole world doing exactly +what I am recommending that you do in your class and what I am doing +personally in my own. I have had Japs in my classes ever since I have +been in school, but Father always told me to study them, to play the +game fairly, but to BEAT them in some way, in some fair way, to beat +them at the game they are undertaking.” + +“Well, there is one thing you don't take into consideration,” said +Donald. “All of us did not happen to be fathered by Alexander Strong. +Maybe we haven't all got your brains.” + +“Oh, posher!” said Linda. “I know of a case where a little Indian was +picked up from a tribal battlefield in South America and brought to this +country and put into our schools, and there was nothing that any +white pupil in the school could do that he couldn't, so long as it was +imitative work. You have got to be constructive. You have got to work +out some way to get ahead of them; and if you will take the history +of the white races and go over their great achievements in mechanics, +science, art, literature--anything you choose--when a white man is +constructive, when he does create, he can simply cut circles around +the colored races. The thing is to get the boys and girls of today to +understand what is going on in the world, what they must do as their +share in making the world safe for their grandchildren. Life is a +struggle. It always has been. It always will be. There is no better +study than to go into the canyons or the deserts and efface yourself +and watch life. It's an all-day process of the stronger annihilating +the weaker. The one inexorable thing in the world is Nature. The eagle +dominates the hawk; the hawk, the falcon; the falcon, the raven; and +so on down to the place where the hummingbird drives the moth from his +particular trumpet flower. The big snake swallows the little one. The +big bear appropriates the desirable cave.” + +“And is that what you are recommending people to do?” + +“No,” said Linda, “it is not. That is wild. We go a step ahead of the +wild, or we ourselves become wild. We have brains, and with our brains +we must do in a scientific way what Nature does with tooth and claw. +In other words, and to be concrete, put these things in the car while +I fold the blanket. We'll gather our miners' lettuce and then we'll go +home and search Daddy's library and see if there is anything bearing in +a higher way on any subject you are taking, so that you can get from it +some new ideas, some different angle, some higher light, something +that will end in speedily prefacing Oka Sayye's perfect with your +pluperfect!” + + + +CHAPTER X. Katy to the Rescue + +Linda delivered Donald Whiting at his door with an armload of books +and a bundle of miners' lettuce and then drove to her home in Lilac +Valley--in the eye of the beholder on the floor-level macadam road; in +her own eye she scarcely grazed it. The smooth, easy motion of the car, +the softly purring engine were thrilling. The speed at which she was +going was like having wings on her body. The mental stimulus she had +experienced in concentrating her brain on Donald Whiting's problem had +stimulated her imagination. The radiant color of spring; the chilled, +perfumed, golden air; the sure sense of having found a friend, had +ruffled the plumes of her spirit. On the home road Donald had plainly +indicated that he would enjoy spending the morrow with her, and she had +advised him to take the books she had provided and lock himself in his +room and sweat out some information about Monday's lessons which would +at least arrest his professor's attention, and lead his mind to the +fact that something was beginning to happen. And then she had laughingly +added: “Tomorrow is Katy's turn. I told the old dear I would take her as +soon as I felt the car was safe. Every day she does many things that she +hopes will give me pleasure. This is one thing I can do that I know will +delight her.” + +“Next Saturday, then?” questioned Donald. And Linda nodded. + + + +“Sure thing. I'll be thinking up some place extra interesting. Come +in the morning if you want, and we'll take a lunch and go for the day. +Which do you like best, mountains or canyons or desert or sea?” + +“I like it best wherever what you're interested in takes you,” said +Donald simply. + +“All right, then,” answered Linda, “we'll combine business and +pleasure.” + +So they parted with another meeting arranged. + +When she reached home she found Katy tearfully rejoicing, plainly +revealing how intensely anxious she had been. But when Linda told +her that the old tires had held, that the car ran wonderfully, that +everything was perfectly safe, that she drove as unconsciously as she +breathed, and that tomorrow Katy was to go for a long ride, her joy was +incoherent. + +Linda laughed. She patted Katy and started down the hallway, when she +called back: “What is this package?” + +“A delivery boy left it special only a few minutes ago. Must be +something Miss Eileen bought and thought she would want tomorrow, and +then afterward she got this invitation and went on as she was.” + +Linda stood gazing at the box. It did look so suspiciously like a dress +box. + +“Katy,” she said, “I have just about got an irresistible impulse to +peep. I was telling Eileen last night of a dress I saw that I thought +perfect. It suited me better than any other dress I ever did see. It was +at 'The Mode.' This box is from 'The Mode.' Could there be a possibility +that she sent it up specially for me?” + +“I think she would put your name on it if she meant it for ye,” said +Katy. + +“One peep would show me whether it is my dress or not,” said Linda, “and +peep I'm going to.” + +She began untying the string. + +“There's one thing,” said Katy, “Miss Eileen's sizes would never fit +ye.” + +“Might,” conceded Linda. “I am taller than she is, but I could wear her +waists if I wanted to, and she always alters her skirts herself to save +the fees. Glory be! This is my dress, and there's a petticoat and +stockings to match it. Why, the nice old thing! I suggested hard enough, +but in my heart I hardly thought she would do it. Oh, dear, now if I +only had some shoes, and a hat.” + +Linda was standing holding the jacket in one hand, the stockings in the +other, her face flaming. Katy drew herself to full height. She reached +over and picked the things from Linda's fingers. + +“If ye know that is your dress, lambie,” she said authoritatively, “ye +go right out and get into that car and run to town and buy ye a pair of +shoes.” + +“But I have no credit anywhere and I have no money, yet,” said Linda. + +“Well, I have,” said Katy, “and this time ye're going to stop your +stubbornness and take enough to get ye what you need. Ye go to the best +store in Los Angeles and come back here with a pair of shoes that just +match those stockings, and ye go fast, before the stores close. If ye've +got to speed a little, do it in the country and do it judacious.” + +“Katy, you're arriving!” cried Linda. “'Judicious speeding' is one thing +I learned better than any other lesson about driving a motor car. Three +fourths of the driving Father and I did we were speeding judiciously.” + +Katy held the skirt to Linda's waist. + +“Well, maybe it's a little shorter than any you have been wearing, but +it ain't as short as Eileen and all the rest of the girls your age have +them, so that's all right, honey. Slip on your coat.” + +Katy's fingers were shaking as she lifted the jacket and Linda slipped +into it. + +“Oh, Lord,” she groaned, “ye can't be wearing that! The sleeves don't +come much below your elbows.” + +“You will please to observe,” said Linda, “that they are flowing sleeves +and they are not intended to come below the elbows; but it's a piece of +luck I tried it on, for it reminds me that it's a jacket suit and I +must have a blouse. When you get the shoe money, make it enough for +a blouse--two blouses, Katy, one for school and one to fuss up in a +little.” + +Without stopping to change her clothing, Linda ran to the garage and +hurried back to the city. It was less than an hour's run, but she made +it in ample time to park her car and buy the shoes. She selected a pair +of low oxfords of beautiful color, matching the stockings. Then she +hurried to one of the big drygoods stores and bought the two waists and +an inexpensive straw hat that would harmonize with the suit; a hat small +enough to stick, in the wind, with brim enough to shade her eyes. In +about two hours she was back with Katy and they were in her room trying +on the new clothing. + +“It dumbfounds me,” said Linda, “to have Eileen do this for me.” + +She had put on the shoes and stockings, a plain georgette blouse of +a soft, brownish wood-gray, with a bit of heavy brown silk embroidery +decorating the front, and the jacket. The dress was of silky changeable +tricolette, the skirt plain. Where a fold lifted and was strongly +lighted, it was an exquisite silver-gray; where a shadow fell deeply +it was gray-brown. The coat reached half way to the knees. It had a +rippling skirt with a row of brown embroidery around it, a deep belt +with double buttoning at the waistline, and collar and sleeves in a more +elaborate pattern of the same embroidery as the skirt. Linda perched the +hat on her head, pulled it down securely, and faced Katy. + +“Now then!” she challenged. + +“And it's a perfect dress!” said Katy proudly, “and you're just the +colleen to wear it. My, but I wisht your father could be seeing ye the +now.” + +With almost reverent hands Linda removed the clothing and laid it away. +Then she read a letter from Marian that was waiting for her, telling +Katy scraps of it in running comment as she scanned the sheets. + +“She likes her boarding place. There are nice people in it. She has got +a wonderful view from the windows of her room. She is making friends. +She thinks one of the men at Nicholson and Snow's is just fine; he is +helping her all he can, on the course she is taking. And she wants us +to look carefully everywhere for any scrap of paper along the hedge or +around the shrubbery on the north side of the house. One of her three +sheets of plans is missing. I don't see where in the world it could have +gone, Katy.” + +Katy spread out her hands in despair. + +“There was not a scrap of a sheet of paper in the room when I cleaned +it,” she said, “not a scrap. And if I had seen a sheet flying around the +yard I would have picked it up. She just must be mistaken about having +lost it here. She must have opened her case on the train and lost it +there.” + +Linda shook her head. + +“I put that stuff in the case myself,” she said, “and the clothes on top +of it, and she wouldn't have any reason for taking those things out on +the train. I can't understand, but she did have three rough sketches. +She had her heart set on winning that prize and it would be a great help +to her, and certainly it was the most comprehensive and convenient plan +for a house of that class that I ever have seen. If I ever have a house, +she is going to plan it, even if she doesn't get to plan John Gilman's +as he always used to say that she should. And by the way, Katy, isn't +it kind of funny for Eileen to go away over Sunday when it's his only +holiday?” + +“Oh, she'll telephone him,” said Katy, “and very like, he'll go down, or +maybe he is with her. Ye needn't waste any sympathy on him. Eileen will +take care that she has him so long as she thinks she wants him.” + +Later it developed that Eileen had secured the invitation because she +was able to produce three most eligible men. Not only was John Gilman +with the party, but Peter Morrison and Henry Anderson were there as +well. It was in the nature of a hastily arranged celebration, because +the deal for three acres of land that Peter Morrison most coveted on the +small plateau, mountain walled, in Lilac Valley, was in escrow. He had +made a payment on it. Anderson was working on his plans. Contractors had +been engaged, and on Monday work would begin. The house was to be built +as soon as possible, and Peter Morrison had arranged that the garage was +to be built first. This he meant to occupy as a residence so that he +could be on hand to superintend the construction of the new home and to +protect, as far as possible, the natural beauty and the natural growth +of the location. + +Early Sunday morning Linda and Katy, with a full lunch box and a full +gasoline tank, slid from the driveway and rolled down the main street of +Lilac Valley toward the desert. + +“We'll switch over and strike San Fernando Road,” said Linda, “and I'll +scout around Sunland a bit and see if I can find anything that will +furnish material for another new dish.” + +That day was wonderful for Katy. She trotted after Linda over sandy +desert reaches, along the seashore, up mountain trails, and through +canyons connected by long stretches of motoring that was more like +flying than riding. She was tired but happy when she went to bed. Monday +morning she was an interested spectator as Linda dressed for school. + +“Sure, and hasn't the old chrysalis opened up and let out the nicest +little lady-bird moth, Katy?” inquired Linda as she smoothed her +gray-gold skirts. “I think myself that this dress is a trifle too good +for school. When I get my allowance next week I think I'll buy me a +cloth skirt and a couple of wash waists and save this for better; but it +really was good of Eileen to take so much pains and send it to me, when +she was busy planning a trip.” + +Katy watched Linda go, and she noted the new light in her eyes, the new +lift of her head, and the proud sureness of her step, and she wondered +if a new dress could do all that for a girl, she scarcely believed that +it could. And, too, she had very serious doubts about the dress. She +kept thinking of it during the day, and when Eileen came, in the middle +of the afternoon, at the first words on her lips: “Has my dress come?” + Katy felt a wave of illness surge through her. She looked at Eileen so +helplessly that that astute reader of human nature immediately Suspected +something. + +“I sent it special,” she said, “because I didn't know at the time that I +was going to Riverside and I wanted to work on it. Isn't it here yet?” + +Then Katy prepared to do battle for the child of her heart. + +“Was the dress ye ordered sent the one Miss Linda was telling ye about?” + she asked tersely. + +“Yes, it was,” said Eileen. “Linda has got mighty good taste. Any dress +she admired was sure to be right. She said there was a beautiful dress +at 'The Mode'. I went and looked, and sure enough there was, a perfect +beauty.” + +“But she wanted the dress for herself,” said Katy. + +“It was not a suitable dress for school,” said Eileen. + +“Well, it strikes me,” said Katy, “that it was just the spittin' image +of fifty dresses I've seen ye wear to school. + +“What do you know about it?” demanded Eileen. + +“I know just this,” said Katy with determination. “Ye've had one new +dress in the last few days and you're not needin' another. The blessed +Virgin only knows when Miss Linda's had a dress. She thought ye'd done +yourself proud and sent it for her, and she put it on, and a becoming +and a proper thing it was too! I advanced her the money myself and sent +her to get some shoes to match it since she had her car fixed and could +go in a hurry. A beautiful dress it is, and on her back this minute it +is!” + +Eileen was speechless with anger. Her face was a sickly white and the +rouge spots on her cheeks stood a glaring admission. + +“Do you mean to tell me--” she gasped. + +“Not again,” said the daughter of Erin firmly, “because I have already +told ye wance. Linda's gone like a rag bag since the Lord knows when. +She had a right to the dress, and she thought it was hers, and she took +it. And if ye ever want any more respect or obedience or love from the +kiddie, ye better never let her know that ye didn't intend it for her, +for nothing was ever quite so fair and right as that she should have it; +and while you're about it you'd better go straight to the store and get +her what she is needin' to go with it, or better still, ye had better +give her a fair share of the money of which there used to be such a +plenty, and let her get her things herself, for she's that tasty nobody +can beat her when she's got anything to do with.” + +Eileen turned on Katy in a gust of fury. + +“Katherine O'Donovan,” she said shrilly, “pack your trunk and see how +quick you can get out of this house. I have stood your insolence for +years, and I won't endure it a minute longer!” + +Katy folded her red arms and lifted her red chin, and a steel-blue light +flashed from her steel-gray eyes. + +“Humph!” she said, “I'll do nothing of the sort. I ain't working for ye +and I never have been no more than I ever worked for your mother. Every +lick I ever done in this house I done for Linda and Doctor Strong and +for nobody else. Half of this house and everything in it belongs to +Linda, and it's a mortal short time till she's of age to claim it. +Whichever is her half, that half I'll be staying in, and if ye manage so +as she's got nothing to pay me, I'll take care of her without pay till +the day comes when she can take care of me. Go to wid ye, ye triflin', +lazy, self-possessed creature. Ten years I have itched to tell ye what I +thought of ye, and now ye know it.” + +As Katy's rage increased, Eileen became intimidated. Like every +extremely selfish person she was a coward in her soul. + +“If you refuse to go on my orders,” she said, “I'll have John Gilman +issue his.” + +Then Katy set her left hand on her left hip, her lower jaw shot past the +upper, her doubled right fist shook precious near the tip of Eileen's +exquisite little nose. + +“I'm darin' ye,” she shouted. “I'm just darin' ye to send John Gilman +in the sound of my voice. If ye do, I'll tell him every mean and selfish +thing ye've done to me poor lambie since the day of the Black Shadow. +Send him to me? Holy Mither, I wish ye would! If ever I get my chance at +him, don't ye think I won't be tellin' him what he has lost, and what he +has got? And as for taking orders from him, I am taking my orders from +the person I am working for, and as I told ye before, that's Miss Linda. +Be off wid ye, and primp up while I get my supper, and mind ye this, if +ye tell Miss Linda ye didn't mean that gown for her and spoil the happy +day she has had, I won't wait for ye to send John Gilman to me; I'll +march straight to him. Put that in your cigarette and smoke it! Think +I've lost me nose as well as me sense?” + +Then Katy started a triumphal march to the kitchen and cooled down by +the well-known process of slamming pots and pans for half an hour. Soon +her Irish sense of humor came to her rescue. + +“Now, don't I hear myself telling Miss Linda a few days ago to kape her +temper, and to kape cool, and to go aisy. Look at the aise of me when I +got started. By gracious, wasn't I just itching to wallop her?” + +Then every art that Katy possessed was bent to the consummation of +preparing a particularly delicious dinner for the night. + +Linda came in softly humming something to herself about the kind of +shoes that you might wear if you chose. She had entered the high school +that morning with an unusually brilliant color. Two or three girls, who +never had noticed her before, had nodded to her that morning, and one or +two had said: “What a pretty dress you have!” She had caught the +flash of approval in the eyes of Donald Whiting, and she had noted the +flourish with which he raised his hat when he saw her at a distance, and +she knew what he meant when he held up a book, past the covers of which +she could see protruding a thick fold of white paper. He had foresworn +whatever pleasure he might have thought of for Sunday. He had prepared +notes on some subject that he thought would further him. The lift of his +head, the flourish of his hat, and the book all told Linda that he had +struggled and that he felt the struggle had brought an exhilarating +degree of success. That had made the day particularly bright for Linda. +She had gone home with a feeling of uplift and exultation in her heart. +As she closed the front door she cried up the stairway: “Eileen, are you +there?” + +“Yes,” answered a rather sulky voice from above. + +Linda ascended, two steps at a bound. + +“Thank you over and over, old thing!” she cried as she raced down the +hallway. “Behold me! I never did have a more becoming dress, and Katy +loaned me money, till my income begins, to get shoes and a little scuff +hat to go with it. Aren't I spiffy?” + +She pirouetted in the doorway. Eileen gripped the brush she was +wielding, tight. + +“You have good taste,” she said. “It's a pretty dress, but You're always +howling about things being suitable. Do you call that suitable for +school?” + +“It certainly is an innovation for me,” said Linda, “but there are +dozens of dresses of the same material, only different cut and colors +in the high school today. As soon as I get my money I'll buy a skirt and +some blouses so I won't have to wear this all the time; but I surely do +thank you very much, and I surely have had a lovely day. Did you have a +nice time at Riverside?” + +Eileen slammed down the brush and turned almost a distorted face to +Linda. She had temper to vent. In the hour's reflection previous to +Linda's coming, she realized that she had reached the limit with Katy. +If she antagonized her by word or look, she would go to John Gilman, and +Eileen dared not risk what she would say. + +“No, I did not have a lovely time,” she said. “I furnished the men for +the party and I expected to have a grand time, but the first thing we +did was to run into that inflated egotist calling herself Mary Louise +Whiting, and like a fool, Janie Brunson introduced her to Peter +Morrison. I had paired him with Janie on purpose to keep my eye on him.” + +Linda tried hard but she could not suppress a chuckle: “Of course you +would!” she murmured softly. + +Eileen turned her back. That had been her first confidence to Linda. +She was so aggrieved at that moment that she could have told unanswering +walls her tribulations. It would have been better if she had done +so. She might have been able to construe silence as sympathy. Linda's +laughter she knew exactly how to interpret. “Served you right,” was what +it meant. + +“I hadn't the least notion you would take an interest in anything +concerning me,” she said. “People can talk all they please about Mary +Louise Whiting being a perfect lady but she is a perfect beast. I have +met her repeatedly and she has always ignored me, and yesterday she +singled out for her special attention the most desirable man in my +party--” + +“'Most desirable,'” breathed Linda. “Poor John! I see his second fiasco. +Lavender crystals, please!” + +Eileen caught her lip in mortification. She had not intended to say what +she thought. + +“Well, you can't claim,” she hurried on to cover her confusion, “that it +was not an ill-bred, common trick for her to take possession of a man +of my party, and utterly ignore me. She has everything on earth that I +want; she treats me like a dog, and she could give me a glorious time by +merely nodding her head.” + +“I am quite sure you are mistaken,” said Linda. “From what I've heard of +her, she wouldn't mistreat anyone. Very probably what she does is merely +to feel that she is not acquainted with you. You have an unfortunate +way, Eileen, of defeating your own ends. If you wanted to attract Mary +Louise Whiting, you missed the best chance you ever could have had, at +three o'clock Saturday afternoon, when you maliciously treated her only +brother as you would a mechanic, ordered him to our garage, and shut our +door in his face.” + +Eileen turned to Linda. Her mouth fell open. A ghastly greenish white +flooded her face. + +“What do you mean?” she gasped. + +“I mean,” said Linda, “that Donald Whiting was calling on me, and you +purposely sent him to the garage.” + +Crash down among the vanities of Eileen's dressing table went her lovely +head, and she broke into deep and violent sobs. Linda stood looking at +her a second, slowly shaking her head. Then she turned and went to her +room. + +Later in the evening she remembered the Roman scarf and told Eileen +of what she had done, and she was unprepared for Eileen's reply: “That +scarf always was too brilliant for me. You're welcome to it if you want +it.” + +“Thank you,” said Linda gravely, “I want it very much indeed.” + + + +CHAPTER XI. Assisting Providence + +Linda went to the library to see to what state of emptiness it had been +reduced by the removal of several pieces of furniture she had ordered +taken away that day. As she stood on the threshold looking over the +room as usual, a throb of loving appreciation of Katy swept through her +heart. Katy had been there before her. The room had been freshly +swept and dusted, the rugs had been relaid, the furniture rearranged +skilfully, and the table stood at the best angle to be lighted either +by day or night. On the table and the mantel stood big bowls of lovely +fresh flowers. Linda was quite certain that anyone entering the room for +the first time would have felt it completely furnished, and she doubted +if even Marian would notice the missing pieces. Cheered in her heart, +she ran up to the billiard room, and there again Katy had preceded +her. The windows were shining. The walls and floor had been cleaned. +Everything was in readiness for the new furniture. Her heart full of +gratitude, Linda went to her room, prepared her lessons for the next +day, and then drew out her writing materials to answer Marian's letter. +She wrote: + +I have an acute attack of enlargement of the heart. So many things +have happened since your leaving. But first I must tell you about your +sketch. We just know you did not leave it here. Katy says there was not +a scrap in our bedroom when she cleaned it; and as she knows you make +plans and how precious they are to you, I guarantee she would have saved +it if she had found anything looking like a parallelogram on a piece of +paper. And I have very nearly combed the lawn, not only the north side, +but the west, south, and east; and then I broke the laws and went over +to your house and crawled through a basement window and worked my way +up, and I have hunted every room in it, but there is nothing there. You +must have lost that sketch after you reached San Francisco. I hope to +all that's peaceful you did not lay it down in the offices of Nicholson +and Snow, or where you take your lessons. I know nothing about +architecture, but I do know something about comfort in a home, and I +thought that was the most comfortable and convenient-looking house I +ever had seen. + +Now I'll go on and tell you all the news, and I don't know which is +the bigger piece to burst on you first. Would you be more interested in +knowing that Peter Morrison has bought three acres on the other side of +the valley from us and up quite a way, or in the astonishing fact that I +have a new dress, a perfect love of a dress, really too good for school? +You know there was blood in my eye when you left, and I didn't wait long +to start action. I have managed to put the fear of God into Eileen's +heart so that she has agreed to a reasonable allowance for me from the +first of next month; but she must have felt at least one small wave of +contrition when I told her about a peculiarly enticing dress I had seen +at The Mode. She sent it up right away, and Katy, blessed be her loving +footprints, loaned me money to buy a blouse and some shoes to match, +so I went to school today looking very like the Great General Average, +minus rouge, lipstick, hairdress, and French heels. + +I do hope you will approve of two things I have done. + +Then Linda recounted the emptying of the billiard room, the inroads in +the library, the listing of the technical books, and what she proposed +to do with the money. And then, her face slightly pale and her fingers +slightly trembling, she wrote: + +And, Marian dear, I hope you won't be angry with me when I tell you +that I have put the Bear Cat into commission and driven it three times +already. It is running like the feline it is, and I am being as careful +as I can. I know exactly how you will feel. It is the same feeling that +has held me all these months, when I wouldn't even let myself think +of it. But something happened at school one day, Marian. You know the +Whitings? Mary Louise Whiting's brother is in the senior class. He is +a six-footer, and while he is not handsome he is going to be a real man +when he is fully developed, and steadied down to work. One day last +week he made it his business to stop me in the hall and twit me about +my shoes, and incidentally to ask me why I didn't dress like the other +girls; and some way it came rougher than if it had been one of the +girls. The more I thought about it the more wronged I felt, so I ended +in a young revolution that is to bring me an income, a suitable place to +work in and has brought me such a pretty dress. I think it has brought +Eileen to a sense of at least partial justice about money, and it +brought me back the Bear Cat. You know the proudest moment of my life +was when Father would let me drive the little beast, and it all came +back as natural as breathing. Please don't worry, Marian. Nothing shall +happen, I promise you. + +It won't be necessary to tell you that Katy is her darling old self, +loyal and steadfast as the sun, and quite as necessary and as comforting +to me. And I have a couple of other interests in life that are going +to--I won't say make up for your absence, because nothing could do +that--but they are going to give me something interesting to think +about, something agreeable to work at, while you are gone. But, oh, +Marian, do hurry. Work all day and part of the night. Be Saturday's +child yourself if you must, just so you get home quick, and where your +white head makes a beacon light for the truest, lovingest pal you will +ever have, + + LINDA. + +Linda laid down the pen, slid down in her chair, and looked from the +window across the valley, and she wondered if in her view lay the +location that had been purchased by Peter Morrison. She glanced back at +her letter and sat looking at the closing lines and the signature. + +“Much good that will do her,” she commented. “When a woman loves a man +and loves him with all her heart, as Marian loved John, and when she +loses him, not because she has done a single unworthy thing herself, +but because he is so rubber spined that he will let another woman +successfully intrigue him, a lot of comfort she is going to get from the +love of a schoolgirl!” + +Linda's eyes strayed to the window again, and traveled down to the city +and up the coast, all the way to San Francisco, and out of the thousands +of homes there they pictured a small, neat room, full of Marian's +belongings, and Marian herself bending over a worktable, absorbed in the +final draft of her precious plans. Linda could see Marian as plainly as +she ever had seen her, but she let her imagination run, and she fancied +that when Marian was among strangers and where no one knew of John +Gilman's defection, that hers might be a very heavy heart, that hers +might be a very sad face. Then she went to planning. She had been +desolate, heart hungry, and isolated herself. First she had endured, +then she had fought; the dawn of a new life was breaking over her hill. +She had found work she was eager to do. She could put the best of her +brain, the skill of her fingers, the creative impulse of her heart, into +it. + +She was almost sure that she had found a friend. She had a feeling that +when the coming Saturday had been lived Donald Whiting would be her +friend. He would want her advice and her help in his work. She would +want his companionship and the stimulus of his mind, in hers. What Linda +had craved was a dear friend among the girls, but no girl had offered +her friendship. This boy had, so she would accept what the gods of +time and circumstance provided. It was a very wonderful thing that had +happened to her. Now why could not something equally wonderful happen to +Marian? Linda wrinkled her brows and thought deeply. + +“It's the worst thing in all this world to work and work with nobody to +know about it and nobody to care,” thought Linda. “Marian could break a +record if she thought John Gilman cared now as he used to. It's almost +a necessary element to her success. If he doesn't care, she ought to be +made to feel that somebody cares. This thing of standing alone, since +I have found a friend, appeals to me as almost insupportable. Let me +think.” + +It was not long until she had worked out a scheme for putting an +interest in Marian's life and giving her something for which to work, +until a more vital reality supplanted it. The result was that she took +some paper, went down to the library, and opening the typewriter, wrote +a letter. She read it over, making many changes and corrections, and +then she copied it carefully. When she came to addressing it she was +uncertain, but at last she hit upon a scheme of sending it in the care +of Nicholson and Snow because Marian had told her that she meant to +enter their contest immediately she reached San Francisco, and she would +have left them her address. On the last reading of the letter she had +written, she decided that it was a manly, straightforward production, +which should interest and attract any girl. But how was she to sign +it? After thinking deeply for a long time, she wrote “Philip Sanders, +General Delivery,” and below she added a postscript: + +To save you the trouble of inquiring among your friends as to who Philip +Sanders is, I might as well tell you in the beginning that he isn't. He +is merely an assumption under which I shall hide my personality until +you let me know whether it is possible that you could become even +slightly interested in me, as a small return for the very deep and +wholesome interest abiding in my heart for you. + +“Abiding,” said Linda aloud. “It seems to me that there is nothing in +all the world quite so fine as a word. Isn't 'abiding' a good word? +Doesn't it mean a lot? Where could you find one other word that +means being with you and also means comforting you and loving you +and sympathizing with you and surrounding you with firm walls and a +cushioned floor and a starry roof? I love that word. I hope it impresses +Marian with all its wonderful meaning.” + +She went back to her room, put both letters into her Geometry, and +in the morning mailed them. She stood a long time hesitating with the +typewritten letter in her hand, but finally dropped it in the letter box +also. + +“It will just be something,” she said, “to make her think that some man +appreciates her lovely face and doesn't care if her hair is white, and +sees how steadfast and fine she is.” + +And then she slowly repeated, “'steadfast,' that is another fine word. +It has pearls and rubies all over it.” + +After school that evening she visited James Brothers' and was paid the +full amount of the appraisement of her furniture. Then she went to an +art store and laid in a full supply of the materials she needed for the +work she was trying to do. Her fingers were trembling as she handled the +boxes of water colors and selected the brushes and pencils for her work, +and sheets of drawing paper upon which she could do herself justice. +When the transaction was finished, she had a few dollars remaining. As +she put them in her pocket she said softly: + +“That's gasoline. Poor Katy! I'm glad she doesn't need her money, +because she is going to have to wait for the allowance or the sale of +the books or on Jane Meredith. But it's only a few days now, so that'll +be all right.” + + + +CHAPTER XII. The Lay of the Land + +Linda entered the street car for her daily ride to Lilac Valley. She +noticed Peter Morrison and Henry Anderson sitting beside each other, +deeply engrossed in a drawing. She had been accustomed to ride in the +open section of the car as she liked the fresh air. She had a fleeting +thought of entering the body of the car and sitting where they would see +her; and then a perverse spirit in Linda's heart said to her: + +“That is precisely what Eileen would do. You sit where you belong.” + +Whereupon Linda dropped into the first vacant seat she could reach, but +it was only a few moments before Peter Morrison, looking up from the +plans he was studying, saw her, and lifting his hat, beckoned her to +come and sit with him. They made room for her between them and spreading +the paper across her lap, all three of them began to discuss the plans +for the foundation for Peter's house. Anderson had roughly outlined the +grounds, sketching in the trees that were to be saved, the spring, and +the most available route for reaching the road. The discussion was as to +where the road should logically enter the grounds, and where the garage +should stand. + +“Which reminds me,” said Linda--“haven't you your car with you? Or was +that a hired one you were touring in?” + +“Mine,” said Peter Morrison, “but we toured so far, it's in the shop for +a general overhauling today.” + +“That being the case,” said Linda, “walk home with me and I'll take you +to your place in mine and bring you back to the cars, if you only want +to stay an hour or two.” + +“Why, that would be fine,” said Peter. “You didn't mention, the other +evening, that you had a car.” + +“No,” said Linda, “I had been trying to keep cars out of my thought for +a long time, but I could endure it no longer the other day, so I got +mine out and tuned it up. If you don't mind stacking up a bit, three can +ride in it very comfortably.” + +That was the way it happened that Linda walked home after school that +afternoon between Peter Morrison and his architect, brought out the Bear +Cat, and drove them to Peter's location. + +All that day, workmen had been busy under the management of a +well-instructed foreman, removing trees and bushes and stones +and clearing the spot that had been selected for the garage and +approximately for the house. + +The soft brownish gray of Linda's dress was exactly the color to +intensify the darker brown of her eyes. There was a fluctuating red in +her olive cheeks, a brilliant red framing her even white teeth. Once +dressed so that she was satisfied with the results, Linda immediately +forgot her clothes, and plunged into Morrison's plans. + +“Peter,” she said gravely, with Peter perfectly cognizant of the twinkle +in her dark eyes, “Peter, you may save money in a straight-line road, +but you're going to sin against your soul if you build it. You'll have +to economize in some other way, and run your road around the base of +those boulders, then come in straight to the line here, and then you +should swing again and run out on this point, where guests can have one +bewildering glimpse of the length of our blue valley, and then whip them +around this clump of perfumy lilac and elders, run them to your side +entrance, and then scoot the car back to the garage. I think you should +place the front of your house about here.” Linda indicated where. “So +long as you're buying a place like this you don't want to miss one +single thing; and you do want to make the very most possible out of +every beauty you have. And you mustn't fail to open up and widen the +runway from that energetic, enthusiastic spring. Carry it across your +road, sure. It will cost you another little something for a safe bridge, +but there's nothing so artistic as a bridge with a cold stream running +under it. And think what a joyful time I'll have, gathering specimens +for you of every pretty water plant that grows in my particular canyon. +Any time when you're busy in your library and you hear my car puffing up +the incline and around the corner and rattling across the bridge, you'll +know that I am down here giving you a start of watercress and miners' +lettuce and every lovely thing you could mention that likes to be +nibbled or loved-up, while it dabbles its toes in the water.” + +Peter Morrison looked at Linda reflectively. He looked for such a long +moment that Henry Anderson reached a nebulous conclusion. “Fine!” he +cried. “Every one of those suggestions is valuable to an inexperienced +man. Morrison, shan't I make a note of them?” + +“Yes, Henry, you shall,” said Peter. “I am going to push this thing as +fast as possible, so far as building the garage is concerned and getting +settled in it. After that I don't care if I live on this spot until we +know each other by the inch, before I begin building my home. At the +present minute it appeals to me that 'home' is about the best word in +the language of any nation. I have a feeling that what I build here is +going to be my home, very possibly the only one I shall ever have. We +must find the spot on which the Lord intended that a house should grow +on this hillside, and then we must build that house so that it has +a room suitable for a workshop in which I may strive, under the best +conditions possible, to get my share of the joy of life and to earn the +money that I shall require to support me and entertain my friends; and +that sounds about as selfish as anything possibly could. It seems to +be mostly 'me' and 'mine,' and it's not the real truth concerning this +house. I don't believe there is a healthy, normal man living who has not +his dream. I have no hesitation whatever in admitting that I have mine. +This house must be two things. It has got to be a concrete workshop for +me, and it has got to be an abstract abiding place for a dream. It's +rather difficult to build a dream house for a dream lady, so I don't +know what kind of a fist I am going to make of it.” + +Linda sat down on a boulder and contemplated her shoes for a minute. +Then she raised her ever-shifting, eager, young eyes to Peter, and it +seemed to him as he looked into them that there were little gold lights +flickering at the bottom of their darkness. + +“Why, that's just as easy,” she said. “A home is merely a home. It +includes a front porch and a back porch and a fireplace and a bathtub +and an ice chest and a view and a garden around it; all the rest is +incidental. If you have more money, you have more incidentals. If you +don't have so much, you use your imagination and think you have just as +much on less.” + +“Now, I wonder,” said Peter, “when I find my dream lady, if she will +have an elastic imagination.” + +“Haven't you found her yet?” asked Linda casually. + +“No,” said Peter, “I haven't found her, and unfortunately she hasn't +found me. I have had a strenuous time getting my start in life. It's +mostly a rush from one point of interest to another, dropping at +any wayside station for refreshment and the use of a writing table. +Occasionally I have seen a vision that I have wanted to follow, but I +never have had time. So far, the lady of this house is even more of a +dream than the house.” + +“Oh, well, don't worry,” said Linda comfortingly. “The world is full of +the nicest girls. When you get ready for a gracious lady I'll find you +one that will have an India-rubber imagination and a great big loving +heart and Indian-hemp apron strings so that half a dozen babies can +swing from them.” + +Morrison turned to Henry Anderson. + +“You hear, Henry?” he said. “I'm destined to have a large family. You +must curtail your plans for the workroom and make that big room back of +it into a nursery.” + +“Well, what I am going to do,” said Henry Anderson, “is to build a place +suitable for your needs. If any dream woman comes to it, she will have +to fit herself to her environment.” + +Linda frowned. + +“Now, that isn't a bit nice of you,” she said, “and I don't believe +Peter will pay the slightest attention to you. He'll let me make you +build a lovely room for the love of his heart, and a great big bright +nursery on the sunny side for his small people.” + +“I never believed,” said Henry Anderson, “in counting your chickens +before they are hatched. There are a couple of acres around Peter's +house, and he can build an addition as his needs increase.” + +“Messy idea,” said Linda promptly. “Thing to do, when you build a house, +is to build it the way you want it for the remainder of your life, +so you don't have to tear up the scenery every few years, dragging in +lumber for expansion. And I'll tell you another thing. If the homemakers +of this country don't get the idea into their heads pretty soon that +they are not going to be able to hold their own with the rest of the +world, with no children, or one child in the family, there's a sad day +of reckoning coming. With the records at the patent office open to +the world, you can't claim that the brain of the white man is not +constructive. You can look at our records and compare them with those +of countries ages and ages older than we are, which never discovered +the beauties of a Dover egg-beater or a washing machine or a churn or +a railroad or a steamboat or a bridge. We are head and shoulders above +other nations in invention, and just as fast as possible, we are falling +behind in the birth rate. The red man and the yellow man and the brown +man and the black man can look at our egg-beaters and washing machines +and bridges and big guns, and go home and copy them; and use them while +rearing even bigger families than they have now. If every home in Lilac +Valley had at least six sturdy boys and girls growing up in it with the +proper love of country and the proper realization of the white man's +right to supremacy, and if all the world now occupied by white men could +make an equal record, where would be the talk of the yellow peril? There +wouldn't be any yellow peril. You see what I mean?” + +Linda lifted her frank eyes to Peter Morrison. + +“Yes, young woman,” said Peter gravely, “I see what you mean, but this +is the first time I ever heard a high-school kid propound such ideas. +Where did you get them?” + +“Got them in Multiflores Canyon from my father to start with,” said +Linda, “but recently I have been thinking, because there is a boy in +high school who is making a great fight for a better scholarship record +than a Jap in his class. I brood over it every spare minute, day or +night, and when I say my prayers I implore high Heaven to send him an +idea or to send me one that I can pass on to him, that will help him to +beat that Jap.” + +“I see,” said Peter Morrison. “We'll have to take time to talk this +over. It's barely possible I might be able to suggest something.” + +“You let that kid fight his own battles,” said Henry Anderson roughly. +“He's no proper bug-catcher. I feel it in my bones.” + +For the first time, Linda's joy laugh rang over Peter Morrison's +possession. + +“I don't know about that,” she said gaily. “He's a wide-awake specimen; +he has led his class for four years when the Jap didn't get ahead of +him. But, all foolishness aside, take my word for it, Peter, you'll be +sorry if you don't build this house big enough for your dream lady and +for all the little dreams that may spring from her heart.” + +“Nightmares, you mean,” said Henry Anderson. “I can't imagine a bunch +of kids muddying up this spring and breaking the bushes and using +slingshots on the birds.” + +“Yes,” said Linda with scathing sarcasm, “and wouldn't our government be +tickled to death to have a clear spring and a perfect bush and a singing +bird, if it needed six men to go over the top to handle a regiment of +Japanese!” + +Then Peter Morrison laughed. + +“Well, your estimate is too low, Linda,” he said in his nicest drawling +tone of voice. “Believe me, one U. S. kid will never march in a whole +regiment of Japanese. They won't lay down their guns and walk to +surrender as bunches of Germans did. Nobody need ever think that. They +are as good fighters as they are imitators. There's nothing for you to +do, Henry, but to take to heart what Miss Linda has said. Plan the house +with a suite for a dream lady, and a dining room, a sleeping porch and a +nursery big enough for the six children allotted to me.” + +“You're not really in earnest?” asked Henry Anderson in doubting +astonishment. + +“I am in the deepest kind of earnest,” said Peter Morrison. “What Miss +Linda says is true. As a nation, our people are pampering themselves and +living for their own pleasures. They won't take the trouble or endure +the pain required to bear and to rear children; and the day is rolling +toward us, with every turn of the planet one day closer, when we are +going to be outnumbered by a combination of peoples who can take our own +tricks and beat us with them. We must pass along the good word that the +one thing America needs above every other thing on earth is HOMES AND +HEARTS BIG ENOUGH FOR CHILDREN, as were the homes of our grandfathers, +when no joy in life equaled the joy of a new child in the family, and if +you didn't have a dozen you weren't doing your manifest duty.” + +“Well, if that is the way you see the light, we must enlarge this house. +As designed, it included every feminine convenience anyway. But when I +build my house I am going to build it for myself.” + +“Then don't talk any more about being my bug-catcher,” said Linda +promptly, “because when I build my house it's going to be a nest that +will hold six at the very least. My heart is perfectly set on a brood of +six.” + +Linda was quite unaware that the two men were studying her closely, but +if she had known what was going on in their minds she would have had +nothing to regret, because both of them found her very attractive, and +both of them were wondering how anything so superficial as Eileen could +be of the same blood as Linda. + +“Are we keeping you too late?” inquired Peter. + +“No,” said Linda, “I am as interested as I can be. Finish everything you +want to do before we go. I hope you're going to let me come over often +and watch you with your building. Maybe I can get an idea for some +things I want to do. Eileen and I have our house divided by a Mason and +Dixon line. On her side is Mother's suite, the dining room, the living +room and the front door. On mine there's the garage and the kitchen and +Katy's bedroom and mine and the library and the billiard room. At +the present minute I am interested in adapting the library to my +requirements instead of Father's, and I am emptying the billiard room +and furnishing it to make a workroom. I have a small talent with a brush +and pencil, and I need some bare walls to tack my prints on to dry, and +I need numerous places for all the things I am always dragging in from +the desert and the canyons; and since I have the Bear Cat running, +what I have been doing in that line with a knapsack won't be worthy of +mention.” + +“How did it come,” inquired Henry Anderson, “that you had that car +jacked up so long?” + +“Why, hasn't anybody told you,” asked Linda, “about our day of the Black +Shadow?” + +“John Gilman wrote me when it happened,” said Peter softly, “but I don't +believe it has been mentioned before Henry. You tell him.” + +Linda turned to Henry Anderson, and with trembling lips and paling +cheeks, in a few brief sentences she gave him the details. Then she +said to Peter Morrison in a low voice: “And that is the why of Marian +Thorne's white head. Anybody tell you that?” + +“That white head puzzled me beyond anything I ever saw,” he said. “I +meant to ask John about it. He used to talk to me and write to me often +about her, and lately he hasn't; when I came I saw the reason, and so +you see I felt reticent on the subject.” + +“Well, there's nothing the matter with my tongue,” said Linda. “It's +loose at both ends. Marian was an expert driver. She drove with the same +calm judgment and precision and graceful skill that she does everything +else, but the curve was steep and something in the brakes was defective. +It broke with a snap and there was not a thing she could do. Enough was +left of the remains of the car to prove that. Ten days afterward her +head was almost as white as snow. Before that it was as dark as mine. +But her body is just as young and her heart is just as young and her +face is even more beautiful. I do think that a white crown makes her +lovelier than she was before. I have known Marian ever since I can +remember, and I don't know one thing about her that I could not look you +straight in the eye and tell you all about. There is not a subterfuge +or an evasion or a small mean deceit in her soul. She is the brainiest +woman and the biggest woman I know.” + +“I haven't a doubt of it,” said Peter Morrison. “And while you are +talking about nice women, we met a mighty fine one at Riverside on +Sunday. Her name is Mary Louise Whiting. Do you know her?” + +“Not personally,” said Linda. “I don't recall that I ever saw her. I +know her brother, Donald. He is the high-school boy who is having the +wrestle with the Jap.” + +“I liked her too,” said Henry Anderson. “And by the way, Miss Linda, +haven't bug-catchers any reputation at all as nest builders? Is it true +that among feathered creatures the hen builds the home?” + +“No, it's not,” said Linda promptly. “Male birds make a splendid record +carrying nest material. What is true is that in the majority of cases +the female does the building.” + +“Well, what I am getting at,” said Henry Anderson, “is this. Is there +anything I can do to help you with that billiard room that you're going +to convert to a workroom? What do you lack in it that you would like to +have? Do you need more light or air, or a fireplace, or what? When you +take us to the station, suppose you drive us past your house and give +me a look at that room and let me think over it a day or two. I might be +able to make some suggestion that would help you.” + +“Now that is positively sweet of you,” said Linda. “I never thought of +such a thing as either comfort or convenience. I thought I had to take +that room as it stands and do the best I could with it, but since you +mention it, it's barely possible that more air might be agreeable and +also more light, and if there could be a small fireplace built in front +of the chimney where it goes up from the library fireplace, it certainly +would be a comfort, and it would add something to the room that nothing +else could. + +“No workroom really has a soul if you can't smell smoke and see red when +you go to it at night.” + +“You little outdoor heathen,” laughed Peter Morrison. “One would think +you were an Indian.” + +“I am a fairly good Indian,” said Linda. “I have been scouting around +with my father a good many years. How about it, Peter? Does the road go +crooked?” + +“Yes,” said Peter, “the road goes crooked.” + +“Does the bed of the spring curve and sweep across the lawn and drop off +to the original stream below the tree-tobacco clump there?” + +“If you say so, it does,” said Peter. + +“Including the bridge?” inquired Linda. + +“Including the bridge,” said Peter. “I'll have to burn some midnight +oil, but I can visualize the bridge.” + +“And is this house where you 'set up your rest,' as you so beautifully +said the other night at dinner, going to lay its corner stone and grow +to its roof a selfish house, or is it going to be generous enough for a +gracious lady and a flight of little footsteps?” + +Peter Morrison took off his hat. He turned his face toward the length of +Lilac Valley and stood, very tall and straight, looking far away before +him. Presently he looked down at Linda. + +“Even so,” he said softly. “My shoulders are broad enough; I have a +brain; and I am not afraid to work. If my heart is not quite big enough +yet, I see very clearly how it can be made to expand.” + +“I have been told,” said Linda in a low voice, “that Mary Louise Whiting +is a perfect darling.” + +Peter looked at her from the top of her black head to the tips of her +brown shoes. He could have counted the freckles bridging her nose. The +sunburn on her cheeks was very visible; there was something arresting in +the depth of her eyes, the curve of her lips, the lithe slenderness of +her young body; she gave the effect of something smoldering inside that +would leap at a breath. + +“I was not thinking of Miss Whiting,” he said soberly. + +Henry Anderson was watching. Now he turned his back and commenced +talking about plans, but in his heart he said: “So that's the lay of the +land. You've got to hustle yourself, Henry, or you won't have the ghost +of a show.” + +Later, when they motored down the valley and stopped at the Strong +residence, Peter refused to be monopolized by Eileen. He climbed the two +flights of stairs with Henry Anderson and Linda and exhausted his fund +of suggestions as to what could be done to that empty billiard room +to make an attractive study of it. Linda listened quietly to all their +suggestions, and then she said: + +“It would be fine to have another window, and a small skylight would be +a dream, and as for the fireplace you mention, I can't even conceive how +great it would be to have that; but my purse is much more limited than +Peter's, and while I have my school work to do every day, my earning +capacity is nearly negligible. I can only pick up a bit here and there +with my brush and pencil--place cards and Easter cards and valentines, +and once or twice magazine covers, and little things like that. I don't +see my way clear to lumber and glass and bricks and chimney pieces.” + +Peter looked at Henry, and Henry looked at Peter, and a male high sign, +ancient as day, passed between them. + +“Easiest thing in the world,” said Peter. “It's as sure as shooting that +when my three or four fireplaces, which Henry's present plans call for, +are built, there is going to be all the material left that can be used +in a light tiny fireplace such as could be built on a third floor, and +when the figuring for the house is done it could very easily include the +cutting of a skylight and an extra window or two here, and getting the +material in with my stuff, it would cost you almost nothing.” + +Linda's eyes opened wide and dewy with surprise and pleasure. + +“Why, you two perfectly nice men!” she said. “I haven't felt as I do +this minute since I lost Daddy. It's wonderful to be taken care of. It's +better than cream puffs with almond flavoring.” + +Henry Anderson looked at Linda keenly. + +“You're the darndest kid!” he said. “One minute you're smacking your +lips over cream puffs, and the next you're going to the bottom of the +yellow peril. I never before saw your combination in one girl. What's +the explanation?” For the second time that evening Linda's specialty in +rapture floated free. + +“Bunch all the component parts into the one paramount fact that I am +Saturday's child,” she said, “so I am constantly on the job of working +for a living, and then add to that the fact that I was reared by a nerve +specialist.” + +Then they went downstairs, and the men refused both Eileen's and Linda's +invitation to remain for dinner. When they had gone Eileen turned to +Linda with a discontented and aggrieved face. + +“In the name of all that's holy, what are you doing or planning to do?” + she demanded. + +“Not anything that will cost you a penny beyond my natural rights,” said +Linda quietly. + +“That is not answering my question,” said Eileen. “You're not of age and +you're still under the authority of a guardian. If you can't answer me, +possibly you can him. Shall I send John Gilman to ask what I want to +know of you?” + +“When did I ever ask you any questions about what you chose to do?” + asked Linda. “I am merely following the example that you have previously +set me. John Gilman and I used to be great friends. It might help both +of us to have a family reunion. Send him by all means.” + +“You used to take pride,” suggested Eileen, “in leading your class.” + +“And has anyone told you that I am not leading my class at the present +minute?” asked Linda. + +“No,” said Eileen, “but what I want to point out to you is that the +minute you start running with the boys you will quit leading your +class.” + +“Don't you believe it,” said Linda quietly. “I'm not built that way. +I shan't concentrate on any boy to the exclusion of chemistry and +geometry, never fear it.” + +Then she thoughtfully ascended the stairs and went to work. + +Eileen went to her room and sat down to think; and the more she thought, +the deeper grew her anger and chagrin; and to the indifference that +always had existed in her heart concerning Linda was added in that +moment a new element. She was jealous of her. How did it come that a +lanky, gangling kid in her tees had been paid a visit by the son of +possibly the most cultured and influential family of the city, people of +prestige, comfortable wealth, and unlimited popularity? For four years +she had struggled to gain an entrance in some way into Louise Whiting's +intimate circle of friends, and she had ended by shutting the door on +the only son of the family. And why had she ever allowed Linda to keep +the runabout? It was not proper that a young girl should own a high +powered car like that. It was not proper that she should drive it and go +racing around the country, heaven knew where, and with heaven knew whom. +Eileen bit her lip until it almost bled. Her eyes were hateful and her +hands were nervous as she reviewed the past week. She might think any +mean thing that a mean brain could conjure up, but when she calmed down +to facts she had to admit that there was not a reason in the world why +Linda should not drive the car she had driven for her father, or why +she should not take with her Donald Whiting or Peter Morrison or Henry +Anderson. The thing that rankled was that the car belonged to Linda. The +touring car which she might have owned and driven, had she so desired, +lay in an extremely slender string of pearls around her neck at that +instant. She reflected that if she had kept her car and made herself +sufficiently hardy to drive it, she might have been the one to +have taken Peter Morrison to his home location and to have had many +opportunities for being with him. + +“I've been a fool,” said Eileen, tugging at the pearls viciously. “They +are nothing but a little bit of a string that looks as if I were trying +to do something and couldn't, at best. What I've got to do is to think +more of myself. I've got to plan some way to prevent Linda from being +too popular until I really get my mind made up as to what I want to do.” + + + +CHAPTER XIII. Leavening the Bread of Life + +“'A house that is divided against itself cannot stand,'” quoted Linda. +“I must keep in mind what Eileen said, not that there is the slightest +danger, but to fall behind in my grades is a thing that simply must not +happen. If it be true that Peter and Henry can so easily and so cheaply +add a few improvements in my workroom in connection with Peter's +building, I can see no reason why they shouldn't do it, so long as I pay +for it. I haven't a doubt but that there will be something I can do +for Peter, before he finishes his building, that he would greatly +appreciate, while, since I'm handy with my pencil, I MIGHT be able to +make a few head and tail pieces for some of his articles that would make +them more attractive. I don't want to use any friend of mine: I don't +want to feel that I am not giving quite as much as I get, but I think I +see my way clear, between me and the Bear Cat, to pay for all the favors +I would receive in altering my study. + +“First thing I do I must go through Father's books and get the money for +them, so I'll know my limitation when I come to select furniture. And +I don't know that I am going to be so terribly modest when it comes to +naming the sum with which I'll be satisfied for my allowance. Possibly I +shall exercise my age-old prerogative and change my mind; I may just say +'half' right out loud and stick to it. And there's another thing. Since +the editor of Everybody's Home has started my department and promised +that if it goes well he will give it to me permanently, I can certainly +depend on something from that. He has used my Introduction and two +instalments now. I should think it might be fair to talk payments pretty +soon. He should give me fifty dollars for a recipe with its perfectly +good natural history and embellished with my own vegetable and floral +decorations. + +“In the meantime I think I might buy my worktable and possibly an easel, +so I can have real room to spread out my new material and see how it +would feel to do one drawing completely unhampered. I'll order the table +tonight, and then I'll begin on the books, because I must have Saturday +free; and I must be thinking about the most attractive and interesting +place I can take Donald to. I just have to keep him interested until +he gets going of his own accord, because he shall beat Oka Sayye. I +wouldn't let Donald say it but I don't mind saying myself to myself +with no one present except myself that in all my life I have never seen +anything so masklike as the stolid little square head on that Jap. I +have never seen anything I dislike more than the oily, stiff, black +hair standing up on it like menacing bristles. I have never had but one +straight look deep into his eyes, but in that look I saw the only thing +that ever frightened me in looking into a man's eyes in my whole life. +And there is one thing that I have to remember to caution Donald about. +He must carry on this contest in a perfectly open, fair, and aboveboard +way, and he simply must not antagonize Oka Sayye. There are so many of +the Japs. They all look so much alike, and there's a blood brotherhood +between them that will make them protect each other to the death against +any white man. It wouldn't be safe for Donald to make Oka Sayye hate +him. He had far better try to make him his friend and put a spirit of +honest rivalry into his heart; but come to think of it, there wasn't +anything like that in my one look into Oka Sayye's eyes. I don't know +what it was, but whatever it was it was something repulsive.” + +With this thought in her mind Linda walked slowly as she approached +the high school the next time. Far down the street, over the walks and +across the grounds, her eyes were searching eagerly for the tall slender +figure of Donald Whiting. She did not see him in the morning, but at +noon she encountered him in the hall. + +“Looking for you,” he cried gaily when he saw her. “I've got my pry in +on Trig. The professor's interested. Dad fished out an old Trig that +he used when he was a boy and I have some new angles that will keep my +esteemed rival stirring up his gray matter for some little time.” + +“Good for you! Joyous congratulations! You've got the idea!” cried +Linda. “Go to it! Start something all along the line, but make it +something founded on brains and reason and common sense. But, Donald, I +was watching for you. I wanted to say a word.” + +Donald Whiting bent toward her. The faintest suspicion of a tinge of +color crept into his cheeks. + +“That's fine,” he said. “What was it you wanted?” + +“Only this,” she said in almost a breathless whisper. “There is nothing +in California I am afraid of except a Jap, and I am afraid of them, not +potentially, not on account of what all of us know they are planning +in the backs of their heads for the future, but right here and now, +personally and physically. Don't antagonize Oka Sayye. Don't be too +precipitate about what you're trying to do. Try to make it appear that +you're developing ideas for the interest and edification of the whole +class. Don't incur his personal enmity. Use tact.” + +“You think I am afraid of that little jiu-jitsu?” he scoffed. “I can +lick him with one hand.” + +“I haven't a doubt of it,” said Linda, measuring his height and apparent +strength and fitness. “I haven't a doubt of it. But let me ask you this +confidentially: Have you got a friend who would slip in and stab him in +the back in case you were in an encounter and he was getting the better +of you?” + +Donald Whiting's eyes widened. He looked at Linda amazed. + +“Wouldn't that be going rather far?” he asked. “I think I have some +fairly good friends among the fellows, but I don't know just whom I +would want to ask to do me that small favor.” + +“That is precisely the point,” cried Linda. “You haven't a friend you +would ask; and you haven't a friend who would do it, if you did. But +don't believe for one second that Oka Sayye hasn't half a dozen who +would make away with you at an unexpected time and in a secluded place, +and vanish, if it would in any way further Oka Sayye's ambition, or help +establish the supremacy of the Japanese in California.” + +“Um-hm,” said Donald Whiting. + +He was looking far past Linda and now his eyes were narrowed in thought. +“I believe you're RIGHT about it.” + +“I've thought of you so often since I tried to spur you to beat Oka +Sayye,” said Linda. “I feel a sort of responsibility for you. It's to +the honor and glory of all California, and the United States, and the +white race everywhere for you to beat him, but if any harm should come +to you I would always feel that I shouldn't have urged it.” + +“Now that's foolishness,” said Donald earnestly. “If I am such a dub +that I didn't have the ambition to think up some way to beat a Jap +myself, no matter what happens you shouldn't regret having been the one +to point out to me my manifest duty. Dad is a Harvard man, you know, and +that is where he's going to send me, and in talking about it the other +night I told him about you, and what you had said to me. He's the +greatest old scout, and was mightily interested. He went at once and +opened a box of books in the garret and dug out some stuff that will be +a big help to me. He's going to keep posted and see what he can do; he +said even worse things to me than you did; so you needn't feel that you +have any responsibility; besides that, it's not proved yet that I can +beat Oka Sayye.” + +“Yes, it is!” said Linda, sending a straight level gaze deep into his +eyes. “Yes, it is! Whenever a white man makes up his mind what he's +going to do, and puts his brain to work, he beats any man, of any other +color. Sure you're going to beat him.” + +“Fat chance I have not to,” said Donald, laughing ruefully. “If I don't +beat him I am disgraced at home, and with you; before I try very long in +this highly specialized effort I am making, every professor in the high +school and every member of my class is bound to become aware of what +is going on. You're mighty right about it. I have got to beat him or +disgrace myself right at the beginning of my nice young career.” + +“Of course you'll beat him,” said Linda. + +“At what hour did you say I should come, Saturday?” + +“Oh, come with the lark for all I care,” said Linda. “Early morning in +the desert is a mystery and a miracle, and the larks have been there +just long enough to get their voices properly tuned for their purest +notes.” + +Then she turned and hurried away. Her first leisure minute after +reaching home she went to the library wearing one of Katy's big aprons, +and carrying a brush and duster. Beginning at one end of each shelf, she +took down the volumes she intended to sell, carefully dusted them, wiped +their covers, and the place on which they had stood, and then opened and +leafed through them so that no scrap of paper containing any notes or +memoranda of possible value should be overlooked. It was while handling +these volumes that Linda shifted several of the books written by her +father, to separate them from those with which she meant to part. She +had grown so accustomed to opening each book she handled and looking +through it, that she mechanically opened the first one she picked up and +from among its leaves there fell a scrap of loose paper. She picked it +up and found it was a letter from the publishers of the book. Linda's +eyes widened suddenly as she read: + +MY DEAR STRONG: + +Sending you a line of congratulations. You have gone to the head of the +list of “best sellers” among medical works, and the cheque I draw you +for the past six months' royalties will be considerably larger than that +which goes to your most esteemed contemporary on your chosen subject. + +Very truly yours, + +The signature was that of Frederic Dickman, the editor of one of the +biggest publishing houses of the country. + +“Hm,” she said to herself softly. “Now that is a queer thing. That +letter was written nearly five years ago. I don't know why I never +thought of royalties since Daddy went. I frequently heard him +mention them before. I suppose they're being paid to John Gilman as +administrator, or to the Consolidated Bank, and cared for with Father's +other business. There's no reason why these books should not keep on +selling. There are probably the same number of young men, if not a +greater number, studying medicine every year. I wonder now, about these +royalties. I must do some thinking.” + +Then Linda began to examine books more carefully than before. The letter +she carried with her when she went to her room; but she made a point of +being on the lawn that evening when John Gilman came, and after talking +to him a few minutes, she said very casually: “John, as Father's +administrator, does a royalty from his medical books come to you?” + +“No,” said Gilman. “It is paid to his bank.” + +“I don't suppose,” said Linda casually, “it would amount to enough to +keep one in shoes these inflated days.” + +“Oh, I don't know about that,” said John testily. “I have seen a few of +those cheques in your Father's time. You should be able to keep fairly +well supplied with shoes.” + +“So I should,” said Linda drily. “So I should.” + +Then she led him to the back of the house and talked the incident out +of his mind as cleverly as possible by giving him an intensive botanical +study of Cotyledon. But she could not interest him quite so deeply +as she had hoped, for presently he said: “Eileen tells me that you're +parting with some of the books.” + +“Only technical ones for which I could have no possible use,” said +Linda. “I need clothes, and have found that had I a proper place to work +in and proper tools to work with, I could earn quite a bit with my brush +and pencil, and so I am trying to get enough money together to fit up +the billiard room for a workroom, since nobody uses it for anything +else.” + +“I see,” said John Gilman. “I suppose running a house is extremely +expensive these days, but even so the income from your estate should be +sufficient to dress a schoolgirl and provide for anything you would want +in the way of furnishing a workroom.” + +“That's what I have always thought myself,” said Linda; “but Eileen +doesn't agree with me, and she handles the money. When the first of +the month comes, we are planning to go over things together, and she is +going to make me a proper allowance.” + +“That is exactly as it should be,” said Gilman. “I never realized till +the other night at dinner that you have grown such a great girl, Linda. +That's fine! Fix your workroom the way you would like to have it, and +if there's anything I can do to help you in any way, you have only to +command me. I haven't seen you often lately.” + +“No,” said Linda, “but I don't feel that it is exactly my fault. Marian +and I were always pals. When I saw that you preferred Eileen, I kept +with Marian to comfort her all I could. I don't suppose she cared, +particularly. She couldn't have, or she would at least have made some +effort to prevent Eileen from monopolizing you. She probably was mighty +glad to be rid of you; but since you had been together so much, I +thought she might miss you, so I tried to cover your defection.” + +John Gilman's face flushed. He stood very still, while he seemed deeply +thoughtful. + +“Of course you were free to follow your inclinations, or Eileen's +machinations, whichever you did follow,” Linda said lightly, “but 'them +as knows' could tell you, John, as Katy so well puts it, that you have +made the mistake of your young life.” + +Then she turned and went to the garage, leaving John to his visit with +Eileen. + +The Eileen who took possession of John was an Eileen with whom he was +not acquainted. He had known, the night of the dinner party, that Eileen +was pouting, but there had been no chance to learn from her what +her grievance was, and by the next time they met she was a bundle of +flashing allurement, so he ignored the occurrence. This evening, for the +first time, it seemed to him that Eileen was not so beautiful a woman as +he had thought her. Something had roiled the blood in her delicate veins +until it had muddied the clear freshness of her smooth satiny skin. +There was discontent in her eyes, which were her most convincing +attraction. They were big eyes, wide open and candid. She had so trained +them through a lifetime of practice that she could meet other eyes +directly while manipulating her most dextrous evasion. Whenever Eileen +was most deceptively subtle, she was looking straight at her victim with +the innocent appeal of a baby in her gaze. + +John Gilman had had his struggle. He had succeeded. He had watched, and +waited, and worked incessantly, and when his opportunity came he was +ready. Success had come to such a degree that in a short time he had +assured himself of comfort for any woman he loved. He knew that his +appearance was quite as pleasing as that of his friend. He knew that +in manner and education they were equals. He was now handling large +business affairs. He had made friends in high places. Whenever Eileen +was ready, he would build and furnish a home he felt sure would be +equal, if not superior, to what Morrison was planning. Why had Eileen +felt that she would envy any woman who shared life with Peter Morrison? + +All that day she had annoyed him, because there must have been in the +very deeps of his soul “a still, small voice” whispering to him that +he had not lived up to the best traditions of a gentleman in his course +with Marian. While no definite plans had been made, there had been +endless assumption. Many times they had talked of the home they would +make together. When he reached the point where he decided that he never +had loved Marian as a man should love the woman he marries, he felt +justified in turning to Eileen, but in his heart he knew that if he had +been the man he was pleased to consider himself, he would have gone to +Marian Thorne and explained, thereby keeping her friendship, while he +now knew that he must have earned her contempt. + +The day at Riverside had been an enigma he could not solve. Eileen was +gay to a degree that was almost boisterous. She had attracted attention +and comment which no well-bred woman would have done. + +The growing discontent in John's soul had increased under Linda's direct +attack. He had known Linda since she was four years old and had been +responsible for some of her education. He had been a large influence +in teaching Linda from childhood to be a good sport, to be sure she was +right and then go ahead, and if she hurt herself in the going, to rub +the bruise, but to keep her path. + +A thing patent to the eye of every man who turned an appraising look +upon Linda always had been one of steadfast loyalty. You could depend +upon her. She was the counterpart of her father; and Doctor Strong had +been loved by other men. Wherever he had gone he had been surrounded. +His figure had been one that attracted attention. When he had spoken, +his voice and what he had to say had commanded respect. And then there +had emanated from him that peculiar physical charm which gives such +pleasing and distinguished personality to a very few people in this +world. This gift too had descended to Linda. She could sit and look +straight at you with her narrow, interested eyes, smile faintly, and +make you realize what she thought and felt without opening her lips. +John did not feel very well acquainted with the girl who had dominated +the recent dinner party, but he did see that she was attractive, that +both Peter Morrison and Henry Anderson had been greatly amused and very +much entertained by her. He had found her so interesting himself that he +had paid slight attention to Eileen's pouting. + +Tonight he was forced to study Eileen, for the sake of his own comfort +to try to conciliate her. He was uncomfortable because he was unable +to conduct himself as Eileen wished him to, without a small sickening +disgust creeping into his soul. Before the evening was over he became +exasperated, and ended by asking flatly: “Eileen, what in the dickens is +the matter with you?” + +It was a new tone and a new question on nerves tensely strung. + +“If you weren't blind you'd know without asking,” retorted Eileen hotly. + +“Then I am 'blind,' for I haven't the slightest notion. What have I +done?” + +“Isn't it just barely possible,” asked Eileen, “that there might be +other people who would annoy and exasperate me? I have not hinted that +you have done anything, although I don't know that it's customary for a +man calling on his betrothed to stop first for a visit with her sister.” + +“For the love of Mike!” said John Gilman. “Am I to be found fault with +for crossing the lawn a minute to see how Linda's wild garden is coming +on? I have dug and helped set enough of those plants to justify some +interest in them as they grow.” + +“And the garden was your sole subject of conversation?” inquired Eileen, +implied doubt conveyed nicely. + +“No, it was not,” answered Gilman, all the bulldog in his nature coming +to the surface. + +“As I knew perfectly,” said Eileen. “I admit that I'm not feeling +myself. Things began going wrong recently, and everything has gone wrong +since. I think it all began with Marian Thorne's crazy idea of selling +her home and going to the city to try to ape a man.” + +“Marian never tried to ape a man in her life,” said John, instantly +yielding to a sense of justice. “She is as strictly feminine as any +woman I ever knew.” + +“Do you mean to say that you think studying architecture is a woman's +work?” sneered Eileen. + +“Yes, I do,” said Gilman emphatically. “Women live in houses. They're +in them nine tenths of the time to a man's one tenth. Next to rocking +a cradle I don't know of any occupation in this world more distinctly +feminine than the planning of comfortable homes for homekeeping people.” + +Eileen changed the subject swiftly. “What was Linda saying to you?” she +asked. + +“She was showing me a plant, a rare Echeveria of the Cotyledon family, +that she tobogganed down one side of Multiflores Canyon and delivered +safely on the roadway without its losing an appreciable amount of +'bloom' from its exquisitely painted leaves.” + +Eileen broke in rudely. “Linda has missed Marian. There's not a possible +thing to make life uncomfortable for me that she is not doing. You +needn't tell me you didn't see and understand her rude forwardness the +other night!” + +“No, I didn't see it,” said John, “because the fact is I thought the kid +was positively charming, and so did Peter and Henry because both of them +said so. There's one thing you must take into consideration, Eileen. The +time has come when she should have clothes and liberty and opportunity +to shape her life according to her inclinations. Let me tell you she +will attract attention in georgette and laces.” + +“And where are the georgette and laces to come from?” inquired Eileen +sarcastically. “All outgo and no income for four years is leaving the +Strong finances in mighty precarious shape, I can tell you.” + +“All right,” said Gilman, “I'm financially comfortable now. I'm ready. +Say the word. We'll select our location and build our home, and let +Linda have what there is of the Strong income till she is settled in +life. You have pretty well had all of it for the past four years.” + +“Yes,” said Eileen furiously, “I have 'pretty well' had it, in a few +little dresses that I have altered myself and very frequently made +entirely. I have done the best I could, shifting and skimping, and it's +not accomplished anything that I have really wanted. According to men, +the gas and the telephone and the electric light and the taxes and +food and cook pay for themselves. All a woman ever spends money on is +clothes!” + +“Eileen,” chuckled John Gilman, “this sounds exactly as if we were +married, and we're not, yet.” + +“No,” said Eileen, “thank heaven we're not. If it's come to the place +where you're siding with everybody else against me, and where you're +more interested in what my kid sister has to say to you than you are in +me, I don't think we ever shall be.” + +Then, from stress of nerve tension and long practice, some big tears +gushed up and threatened to overflow Eileen's lovely eyes. That never +should happen, for tears are salt water and they cut little rivers +through even the most carefully and skillfully constructed complexion, +while Eileen's was looking its worst that evening. She hastily applied +her handkerchief, and John Gilman took her into his arms; so the +remainder of the evening it was as if they were not married. But when +John returned to the subject of a home and begged Eileen to announce +their engagement and let him begin work, she evaded him, and put him +off, and had to have time to think, and she was not ready, and there +were many excuses, for none of which Gilman could see any sufficient +reason. When he left Eileen that night, it was with a heavy heart. + + + +CHAPTER XIV. Saturday's Child + +Throughout the week Linda had worked as never during her life +previously, in order to save Saturday for Donald Whiting. She ran the +Bear Cat down to the garage and had it looked over once more to be sure +that everything was all right. Friday evening, on her way from school, +she stopped at a grocery where she knew Eileen kept an account, and for +the first time ordered a few groceries. These she carried home with her, +and explained to Katy what she wanted. + +Katy fully realized that Linda was still her child, with no thought in +her mind save standing at the head of her classes, carrying on the work +she had begun with her father, keeping up her nature study, and getting +the best time she could out of life in the open as she had been taught +to do from her cradle. + +Katy had not the slightest intention of opening her lips to say one word +that might put any idea into the head of her beloved child, but she saw +no reason why she herself should not harbor all the ideas she pleased. + +Whereupon, actuated by a combination of family pride, love, ambition in +her chosen profession, Katy made ready to see that on the morrow the +son of Frederick Whiting should be properly nourished on his outing with +Linda. + +At six o'clock Saturday morning Linda ran the Bear Cat to the back door, +where she and Katy packed it. Before they had finished, Donald Whiting +came down the sidewalk, his cheeks flushed with the exercise of walking, +his eyes bright with anticipation, his cause forever won--in case he had +a cause--with Katy, because she liked the wholesome, hearty manner in +which he greeted Linda, and she was dumbfounded when he held out his +hand to her and said laughingly: “Blessed among women, did you put in a +fine large consignment of orange punch?” + +“No,” said Katy, “I'll just tell ye flat-footed there ain't going to be +any punch, but, young sir, you're eshcortin' a very capable young lady, +and don't ye bewail the punch, because ye might be complimenting your +face with something ye would like a hape better.” + +“Can't be done, Katy,” cried Donald. + +“Ye must have a poor opinion of us,” laughed Katy, “if ye are thinking +ye can get to the end of our limitations in one lunch. Fourteen years me +and Miss Linda's been on this lunch-box stunt. Don't ye be thinkin' ye +can exhaust us in any wan trip, or in any wan dozen.” + +So they said good-bye to Katy and rolled past Eileen's room on the way +to the desert. Eileen stood at the window watching them, and never had +her heart been so full of discontent and her soul the abiding place of +such envy or her mind so busy. Just when she had thought life was going +to yield her what she craved, she could not understand how or why things +should begin to go wrong. + +As the Bear Cat traversed Lilac Valley, Linda was pointing out Peter +Morrison's location. She was telling Donald Whiting where to find +Peter's articles, and what a fine man he was, and that he had promised +to think how he could help with their plan to make of Donald a better +scholar than was Oka Sayye. + +“Well, I call that mighty decent of a stranger,” said Donald. + +“But he is scarcely more of a stranger than I am,” answered Linda. “He +is a writer. He is interested in humanity. It's the business of every +man in this world to reach out and help every boy with whom he comes in +contact into the biggest, finest manhood possible. He only knows that +you're a boy tackling a big job that means much to every white boy to +have you succeed with, and for that reason he's just as interested as I +am. Maybe, when we come in this evening, I'll run up to his place, and +you can talk it over with him. If your father helped you at one angle, +it's altogether probable that Peter Morrison could help you at another.” + +Donald Whiting rubbed his knee reflectively. He was sitting half turned +in the wide seat so that he might watch Linda's hands and her face while +she drove. + +“Well, that's all right,” he said heartily. “You can write me down as +willing and anxious to take all the help I can get, for it's going to be +no microscopic job, that I can tell you. One week has waked up the Jap +to the fact that there's something doing, and he's digging in and has +begun, the last day or two, to speak up in class and suggest things +himself. Since I've been studying him and watching him, I have come to +the conclusion that he is much older than I am. Something he said in +class yesterday made me think he had probably had the best schooling +Japan could give him before he came here. The next time you meet him +look for a suspicion of gray hairs around his ears. He's too blamed +comprehensive for the average boy of my age. You said the Japs were the +best imitators in the world and I have an idea in the back of my head +that before I get through with him, Oka Sayye is going to prove your +proposition.” + +Linda nodded as she shot the Bear Cat across the streetcar tracks and +headed toward the desert. The engine was purring softly as it warmed up. +The car was running smoothly. The sun of early morning was shining on +them through bracing, salt, cool air, and even in the valley the larks +were busy, and the mockingbirds, and from every wayside bush the rosy +finches were singing. All the world was coming to the exquisite bloom of +a half-tropical country. Up from earth swept the heavy odors of blooming +citrus orchards, millions of roses, and the overpowering sweetness of +gardens and cultivated flowers; while down from the mountains rolled the +delicate breath of the misty blue lilac, the pungent odor of California +sage, and the spicy sweet of the lemonade bush. They were two young +things, free for the day, flying down a perfect road, adventuring with +Providence. They had only gone a few miles when Donald Whiting took off +his hat, stuffed it down beside him, and threw back his head, shaking +his hair to the wind in a gesture so soon to become familiar to Linda. +She glanced across at him and found him looking at her. A smile broke +over her lips. One of her most spontaneous laughs bubbled up in her +throat. + +“Topping, isn't it!” she cried gaily. + +“It's the best thing that ever happened to me,” answered Donald Whiting +instantly. “Our car is a mighty good one and Dad isn't mean about +letting me drive it. I can take it frequently and can have plenty of +gas and take my crowd; but lordy, I don't believe there's a boy or girl +living that doesn't just positively groan when they see one of these +little gray Bear Cats go loping past. And I never even had a ride in one +before. I can't get over the fact that it's yours. It wouldn't seem so +funny if it belonged to one of the fellows.” + +With steady hand and gradually increasing speed, Linda put the Bear Cat +over the roads of early morning. Sometimes she stopped in the shade of +pepper, eucalyptus, or palm, where the larks were specializing in their +age-old offertory. And then again they went racing until they reached +the real desert. Linda ran the car under the shade of a tall clump of +bloom-whitened alders. She took off her hat, loosened the hair at her +temples, and looked out across the long morning stretch of desert. + +“It's just beginning to be good,” she said. She began pointing with +her slender hand. “That gleam you see over there is the gold of a +small clump of early poppies. The purple beyond it is lupin. All these +exquisite colors on the floor are birds'-eyes and baby blue eyes, and +the misty white here and there is forget-me-not. It won't be long til +thousands and thousands of yucca plants will light their torches all +over the desert and all the alders show their lacy mist. Of course you +know how exquisitely the Spaniards named the yucca 'Our Lord's Candles.' +Isn't that the prettiest name for a flower, and isn't it the prettiest +thought?” + +“It certainly is,” answered Donald. + +“Had any experience with the desert?” Linda asked lightly. + +“Hunted sage hens some,” answered Donald. + +“Oh, well, that'll be all right,” said Linda. “I wondered if you'd go +murdering yourself like a tenderfoot.” + +“What's the use of all this artillery?” inquired Donald as he stepped +from the car. + +“Better put on your hat. You're taller than most of the bushes; you'll +find slight shade,” cautioned Linda. “The use is purely a matter +of self-protection. The desert has got such a devil of a fight for +existence, without shade and practically without water, that it can't +afford to take any other chance of extermination, and so it protects +itself with needles here and spears there and sabers at other places and +roots that strike down to China everywhere. First thing we are going to +get is some soap.” + +“Great hat!” exclaimed Donald. “If you wanted soap why didn't you bring +some?” + +“For all you know,” laughed Linda, “I may be going to education you up a +little. Dare you to tell me how many kinds of soap I can find today that +the Indians used, and where I can find it.” + +“Couldn't tell you one to save my life,” said Donald. + +“And born and reared within a few miles of the desert!” scoffed Linda. +“Nice Indian you'd make. We take our choice today between finding +deer-brush and digging for amole, because the mock oranges aren't ripe +enough to be nice and soapy yet. I've got the deer-brush spotted, and +we'll pass an amole before we go very far. Look for a wavy blue-green +leaf like a wide blade of grass and coming up like a lily.” + +So together they went to the deer-brush and gathered a bunch of flowers +that Linda bound together with some wiry desert grass and fastened to +her belt. It was not long before Donald spied an amole, and having found +one, discovered many others growing near. Then Linda led the way past +thorns and brush, past impenetrable beds of cholla, until they reached +a huge barrel cactus that she had located with the glasses. Beside this +bristling monstrous growth Linda paused, and reached for the axe, which +Donald handed to her. She drew it lightly across the armor protecting +the plant. + +“Short of Victrola needles?” she inquired. “Because if you are, these +make excellent ones. A lot more singing quality to them than the steel +needles, not nearly so metallic.” + +“Well, I am surely going to try that,” said Donald. “Never heard of such +a thing.” + +Linda chopped off a section of plant. Then she picked one of the knives +from the bucket and handed it to him. + +“All right, you get what you want,” she said, “while I operate on the +barrel.” + +She set her feet firmly in the sand, swung the axe, and with a couple of +deft strokes sliced off the top of the huge plant, and from the heart of +it lifted up half a bucketful of the juicy interior, with her dipper. + +“If we didn't have drink, here is where we would get it, and mighty good +it is,” she said, pushing down with the dipper until she formed a small +pool in the heart of the plant which rapidly filled. “Have a taste.” + +“Jove, that is good!” said Donald. “What are you going to do with it?” + +“Show you later,” laughed Linda. “Think I'll take a sip myself.” + +Then by a roundabout route they started on their return to the car. Once +Linda stopped and gathered a small bunch of an extremely curious little +plant spreading over the ground, a tiny reddish vine with quaint round +leaves that looked as if a drop of white paint rimmed with maroon had +fallen on each of them. + +“I never saw that before,” said Donald. “What are you going to do with +it?” + +“Use it on whichever of us gets the first snake bite,” said Linda. “That +is rattlesnake weed and if a poisonous snake bites you, score each side +of the wound with the cleanest, sharpest knife you have and then bruise +the plant and bind it on with your handkerchief, and forget it.” + +“Is that what you do?” inquired Donald. + +“Why sure,” said Linda, “that is what I would do if a snake were so +ungallant as to bite me, but there doesn't seem to be much of the +antagonistic element in my nature. I don't go through the desert +exhaling the odor of fright, and so snakes lie quiescent or slip away so +silently that I never see them.” + +“Now what on earth do you mean by that?” inquired Donald. + +“Why that is the very first lesson Daddy ever taught me when he took me +to the mountains and the desert. If you are afraid, your system throws +off formic acid, and the animals need only the suspicion of a scent of +it to make them ready to fight. Any animal you encounter or even a bee, +recognizes it. One of the first things that I remember about Daddy was +seeing him sit on the running board of the runabout buckling up his +desert boots while he sang to me, + + 'Let not your heart be troubled + Neither let it be afraid,' + +as he got ready to take me on his back and go into the desert for our +first lesson; he told me that a man was perfectly safe in going to the +forest or the desert or anywhere he chose among any kind of animals if +he had sufficient self-control that no odor of fear emanated from him. +He said that a man was safe to make his way anywhere he wanted to go, if +he started his journey by recognizing a blood brotherhood with anything +living he would meet on the way; and I have heard Enos Mills say that +when he was snow inspector of Colorado he traveled the crest of the +Rockies from one end of the state to the other without a gun or any +means of self-defense.” + +“Now, that is something new to think about,” said Donald. + +“And it's something that is very true,” said Linda. “I have seen it +work times without number. Father and I went quietly up the mountains, +through the canyons, across the desert, and we would never see a snake +of any kind, but repeatedly we would see men with guns and dogs out to +kill, to trespass on the rights of the wild, and they would be hunting +for sticks and clubs and firing their guns where we had passed never +thinking of lurking danger. If you start out in accord, at one with +Nature, you're quite as safe as you are at home, sometimes more so. But +if you start out to stir up a fight, the occasion is very rare on which +you can't succeed.” + +“And that reminds me,” said Donald, with a laugh, “that a week ago I +came to start a fight with you. What has become of that fight we were +going to have, anyway?” + +“You can search me,” laughed Linda, throwing out her hands in a graceful +gesture. “There's not a scrap of fight in my system concerning you, but +if Oka Sayye were having a fight with you and I were anywhere around, +you'd have one friend who would help you to handle the Jap.” + +Donald looked at Linda thoughtfully. + +“By the great hocus-pocus,” he said, “you know, I believe you. If two +fellows were having a pitched battle most of the girls I know would +quietly faint or run, but I do believe that you would stand by and help +a fellow if he needed it.” + +“That I surely would,” said Linda; “but don't you say 'most of the girls +I know' and then make a statement like that concerning girls, because +you prove that you don't know them at all. A few years ago, I very +distinctly recall how angry many women were at this line in one of +Kipling's poems: + + The female of the species is more deadly than the male, + +and there was nothing to it save that a great poet was trying to pay +womanhood everywhere the finest compliment he knew how. He always has +been fundamental in his process of thought. He gets right back to the +heart of primal things. When he wrote that line he was not really +thinking that there was a nasty poison in the heart of a woman or death +in her hands. What he was thinking was that in the jungle the female +lion or tiger or jaguar must go and find a particularly secluded cave +and bear her young and raise them to be quite active kittens before she +leads them out, because there is danger of the bloodthirsty father +eating them when they are tiny and helpless. And if perchance a male +finds the cave of his mate and her tiny young and enters it to do +mischief, then there is no recorded instance I know of in which the +female, fighting in defense of her young, has not been 'more deadly than +the male.' And that is the origin of the much-discussed line concerning +the female of the species, and it holds good fairly well down the line +of the wild. It's even true among such tiny things as guinea pigs and +canary birds. There is a mother element in the heart of every girl. +Daddy used to say that half the women in the world married the men they +did because they wanted to mother them. You can't tell what is in a +woman's heart by looking at her. You must bring her face to face with an +emergency before you can say what she'll do, but I would be perfectly +willing to stake my life on this: There is scarcely a girl you know who +would see you getting the worst of a fight, say with Oka Sayye, or +someone who meant to kill you or injure you, who would not pick up the +first weapon she could lay her hands on, whether it was an axe or a +stick or a stone, and go to your defense, and if she had nothing else to +fight with, I have heard of women who put up rather a tidy battle with +their claws. Sounds primitive, doesn't it?” + +“It sounds true,” said Donald reflectively. “I see, young lady, where +one is going to have to measure his words and think before he talks to +you.” + +“Pretty thought!” said Linda lightly. “We'll have a great time if you +must stop to consider every word before you say it.” + +“Well, anyway,” said Donald, “when are we going to have that fight which +was the purpose of our coming together?” + +“Why, we're not ever going to have it,” answered Linda. “I have got +nothing in this world to fight with you about since you're doing +your level best to beat Oka Sayye. I have watched your head above the +remainder of your class for three years and wanted to fight with you on +that point.” + +“Now that's a queer thing,” said Donald, “because I have watched you for +three years and wanted to fight with you about your drygoods, and now +since I've known you only such a short while, I don't care two whoops +what you wear. It's a matter of perfect indifference to me. You can wear +French heels or baby pumps, or go barefoot. You would still be you.” + + “Is it a truce?” asked Linda. I + +“No, ma'am,” said Donald, “it's not a truce. That implies war and +we haven't fought. It's not armed neutrality; it's not even watchful +waiting. It's my friend, Linda Strong. Me for her and her for me, if you +say so.” + +He reached out his hand. Linda laid hers in it, and looking into his +eyes, she said: “That is a compact. We'll test this friendship business +and see what there is to it. Now come on; let's run for the canyon.” + +It was only a short time until the Bear Cat followed its trail of the +previous Saturday, and, rushing across the stream, stopped at its former +resting place, while Linda and Donald sat looking at the sheer-walled +little room before them. + +“I can see,” said Linda, “a stronger tinge in the green. There are more +flowers in the carpet. There is more melody in the birds' song. We are +going to have a better time than we had last Saturday. First let's fix +up our old furnace, because we must have a fire today.” + +So they left the car, and under Linda's direction they reconstructed +the old fireplace at which the girl and her father had cooked when +botanizing in Multiflores. In a corner secluded from wind, using the +wall of the canyon for a back wall, big boulders the right distance +apart on each side, and small stones for chinking, Linda superintended +the rebuilding of the fireplace. + +She unpacked the lunch box, set the table, and when she had everything +in readiness she covered the table, and taking a package, she carried it +on a couple of aluminium pie pans to where her fire was burning crisply. +With a small field axe she chopped a couple of small green branches, +pointed them to her liking, and peeled them. Then she made a poker from +one of the saplings they had used to move the rocks, and beat down her +fire until she had a bright bed of deep coals. When these were arranged +exactly to her satisfaction, she pulled some sprays of deer weed +bloom from her bundle and, going down to the creek, made a lather and +carefully washed her hands, tucking the towel she used in drying them +through her belt. Then she came back to the fire and, sitting down +beside it, opened the package and began her operations. On the long, +slender sticks she strung a piece of tenderloin beef, about three inches +in circumference and one fourth of an inch in thickness, then half a +slice of bacon, and then a slice of onion. This she repeated until her +skewer would bear no more weight. Then she laid it across the rocks +walling her fire, occasionally turning it while she filled the second +skewer. Then she brought from the car the bucket of pulp she had taken +from the barrel cactus, transferred it to a piece of cheesecloth and +deftly extracted the juice. To this she added the contents of a thermos +bottle containing a pint of sugar that had been brought to the boiling +point with a pint of water and poured over some chopped spearmint to +which had been added the juice of half a dozen lemons and three or four +oranges. From a small, metal-lined compartment, Linda took a chunk of +ice and dropped it into this mixture. + +She was sitting on the ground, one foot doubled under her, the other +extended. She had taken off her hat; the wind and the bushes had +roughened her hair. Exercise had brought deep red to her cheeks and +her lips. Happiness had brought a mellow glow to her dark eyes. She +had turned back her sleeves, and her slender hands were fascinatingly +graceful in their deft handling of everything she touched. They were +a second edition of the hands with which Alexander Strong had felt out +defective nerve systems and made delicate muscular adjustments. She was +wholly absorbed in what she was doing. Sitting on the blanket across +from her Donald Whiting was wholly absorbed in her and he was thinking. +He was planning how he could please her, how he could earn her +friendship. He was admitting to himself that he had very little, if +anything, to show for hours of time that he had spent in dancing, at +card games, beach picnics, and races. All these things had been amusing. +But he had nothing to show for the time he had spent or the money he had +wasted. Nothing had happened that in any way equipped him for his battle +with Oka Sayye. Conversely, this girl, whom he had resented, whom he had +criticized, who had claimed his notice only by her radical difference +from the other girls, had managed, during the few minutes he had first +talked with her in the hall, to wound his pride, to spur his ambition, +to start him on a course that must end in lasting and material benefit +to him even if he failed in making a higher record of scholarship than +Oka Sayye. It was very certain that the exercise he was giving his +brain must be beneficial. He had learned many things that were intensely +interesting to him and he had not even touched the surface of what he +could see that she had been taught by her father or had learned through +experience and personal investigation. She had been coming to the +mountains and the canyons alone, for four years doing by herself what +she would have done under her father's supervision had he lived. That +argued for steadfastness and strength of character. She would not utter +one word of flattery. She would say nothing she did not mean. Watching +her intently, Donald Whiting thought of all these things. He thought of +what she had said about fighting for him, and he wondered if it really +was true that any girl he knew would fight for him. He hardly believed +it when he remembered some of his friends, so entirely devoted to +personal adornment and personal gratification. But Linda had said that +all women were alike in their hearts. She knew about other things. She +must know about this. Maybe all women would fight for their young or for +their men, but he knew of no other girl who could drive a Bear Cat with +the precision and skill with which Linda drove. He knew no other girl +who was master of the secrets of the desert and the canyons and the +mountains. Certainly he knew no other girl who would tug at great +boulders and build a fireplace and risk burning her fingers and +scorching her face to prepare a meal for him. So he watched Linda and so +he thought. + +At first he thought she was the finest pal a boy ever had, and then he +thought how he meant to work to earn and keep her friendship; and then, +as the fire reddened Linda's cheeks and she made running comments while +she deftly turned her skewers of brigand beefsteak, food that half the +Boy Scouts in the country had been eating for four years, there came an +idea with which he dallied until it grew into a luring vision. + +“Linda,” he asked suddenly, “do you know that one of these days you're +going to be a beautiful woman?” + +Linda turned her skewers with intense absorption. At first he almost +thought she had not heard him, but at last she said quietly: “Do you +really think that is possible, Donald?” + +“You're lovely right now!” answered the boy promptly. + +“For goodness' sake, have an eye single to your record for truth and +veracity,” said Linda. “Doesn't this begin to smell zippy?” + +“It certainly does,” said Donald. “It's making me ravenous. But honest, +Linda, you are a pretty girl.” + +“Honest, your foot!” said Linda scornfully. “I am not a pretty girl. +I am lean and bony and I've got a beak where I should have a nose. +Speaking of pretty girls, my sister, Eileen, is a pretty girl. She is a +downright beautiful girl.” + +“Yes,” said Donald, “she is, but she can't hold a candle to you. How did +she look when she was your age?” + +“I can't remember Eileen,” said Linda, “when she was not exquisitely +dressed and thinking more about taking care of her shoes than anything +else in the world. I can't remember her when she was not curled, and +even when she was a tiny thing Mother put a dust of powder on her nose. +She said her skin was so delicate that it could not bear the sun. She +never could run or play or motor much or do anything, because she +has always had to be saved for the sole purpose of being exquisitely +beautiful. Talk about lilies of the field, that's what Eileen is! She +is an improvement on the original lily of the field--she's a lily of the +drawing room. Me, now, I'm more of a Joshua tree.” + +Donald Whiting laughed, as Linda intended that he should. + +A minute afterward she slid the savory food from a skewer upon one of +the pie pans, tossed back the cover from the little table, stacked +some bread-and-butter sandwiches beside the meat and handed the pan to +Donald. + +“Fall to,” she said, “and prove that you're a man with an appreciative +tummy. Father used to be positively ravenous for this stuff. I like it +myself.” + +She slid the food from the second skewer to a pan for herself, settled +the fire to her satisfaction and they began their meal. Presently she +filled a cup from the bucket beside her and handed it to Donald. At the +same time she lifted another for herself. + +“Here's to the barrel cactus,” she said. “May the desert grow enough +of them so that we'll never lack one when we want to have a Saturday +picnic.” + +Laughingly they drank this toast; and the skewers were filled a second +time. When they could eat no more they packed away the lunch things, +buried the fire, took the axe and the field glasses, and started on a +trip of exploration down the canyon. Together they admired delicate +and exquisite ferns growing around great gray boulders. Donald tasted +hunters' rock leek, and learned that any he found while on a hunting +expedition would furnish a splendid substitute for water. Linda told him +of rare flowers she lacked and what they were like and how he would be +able to identify what she wanted in case he should ever find any when he +was out hunting or with his other friends. They peeped into the nesting +places of canyon wrens and doves and finches, and listened to the +exquisite courting songs of the birds whose hearts were almost bursting +with the exuberance of spring and the joy of home making. When they were +tired out they went back to the dining room and after resting a time, +they made a supper from the remnants of their dinner. When they were +seated in the car and Linda's hand was on the steering wheel, Donald +reached across and covered it with his own. + +“Wait a bit,” he said. “Before we leave here I want to ask you a +question and I want you to make me a promise.” + +“All right,” said Linda. “What's your question?” + +“What is there,” said Donald, “that I can do that would give you such +pleasure as you have given me?” + +Linda could jest on occasions, but by nature she was a serious person. +She looked at Donald reflectively. + +“Why, I think,” she said at last, “that having a friend, having someone +who understands and who cares for the things I do, and who likes to go +to the same places and to do the same things, is the biggest thing that +has happened to me since I lost my father. I don't see that you are in +any way in my debt, Donald.” + +“All right then,” said the boy, “that brings me to the promise I want +you to make me. May we always have our Saturdays together like this?” + +“Sure!” said Linda, “I would be mightily pleased. I'll have to work +later at night and scheme, maybe. By good rights Saturday belongs to me +anyway because I am born Saturday's child.” + +“Well, hurrah for Saturday! It always was a grand old day,” said Donald, +“and since I see what it can do in turning out a girl like you, I've got +a better opinion of it than ever. We'll call that settled. I'll always +ask you on Friday at what hour to come, and hereafter Saturday is ours.” + +“Ours it is,” said Linda. + +Then she put the Bear Cat through the creek and on the road and, driving +swiftly as she dared, ran to Lilac Valley and up to Peter Morrison's +location. + +She was amazed at the amount of work that had been accomplished. The +garage was finished. Peter's temporary work desk and his cot were in it. +A number of his personal belongings were there. The site for his house +had been selected and the cellar was being excavated. + +Linda descended from the Bear Cat and led Donald before Peter. + +“Since you're both my friends,” she said, “I want you to know each +other. This is Donald Whiting, the Senior I told you about, Mr. +Morrison. You know you said you would help him if you could.” + +“Certainly,” said Peter. “I am very glad to know any friend of yours, +Miss Linda. Come over to my workroom and let's hear about this.” + +“Oh, go and talk it over between yourselves,” said Linda. “I am going up +here to have a private conversation with the spring. I want it to tell +me confidentially exactly the course it would enjoy running so that when +your house is finished and I come to lay out your grounds I will know +exactly how it feels about making a change.” + +“Fine!” said Peter. “Take your time and become extremely confidential, +because the more I look at the location and the more I hear the gay +chuckling song that that water sings, the more I am in love with your +plan to run it across the lawn and bring it around the boulder.” + +“It would be a downright sin not to have that water in a convenient +place for your children to play in, Peter,” said Linda. + +“Then that's all settled,” said Peter. “Now, Whiting, come this way and +we'll see whether I can suggest anything that will help you with your +problem.” + +“Whistle when you are ready, Donald,” called Linda as she turned away. + +Peter Morrison glanced after her a second, and then he led Donald +Whiting to a nail keg in the garage and impaled that youngster on +the mental point of a mental pin and studied him as carefully as any +scientist ever studied a rare specimen. When finally he let him go, his +mental comment was: “He's a mighty fine kid. Linda is perfectly safe +with him.” + + + +CHAPTER XV. Linda's Hearthstone + +Early the following week Linda came from school one evening to find a +load of sand and a heap of curiously marked stones beside the back door. + +“Can it possibly be, Katy,” she asked, “that those men are planning to +begin work on my room so soon? I am scared out of almost seven of my +five senses. I had no idea they would be ready to begin work until after +I had my settlement with Eileen or was paid for the books.” + +“Don't ye be worried,” said Katy. “There's more in me stocking than me +leg, and you're as welcome to it as the desert is welcome to rain, an' +nadin' it 'most as bad.” + +“Anyway,” said Linda, “it will surely take them long enough so that I +can pay by the time they finish.” + +But Linda was not figuring that back of the projected improvements +stood two men, each of whom had an extremely personal reason for greatly +desiring to please her. Peter Morrison had secured a slab of sandstone. +He had located a marble cutter to whom he meant to carry it, and was +spending much thought that he might have been using on an article in +trying to hit upon exactly the right line or phrase to build in above +Linda's fire--something that would convey to her in a few words a sense +of friendship and beauty. + +While Peter gazed at the unresponsive gray sandstone and wrote line +after line which he immediately destroyed, Henry Anderson explored the +mountain and came in, red faced and perspiring, from miles of climbing +with a bright stone in each hand, or took the car to bring in small +heaps too heavy to carry that he had collected near the roads. They were +two men striving for the favor of the same girl. How Linda would have +been amused had she understood the situation, or how Eileen would have +been provoked, neither of the men knew nor did they care. + +The workmen came after Linda left and went before her return. Having +been cautioned to silence, Katy had not told her when work actually +began; and so it happened that, going to her room one evening, she +unlocked the door and stepped inside to face the completed fireplace. +The firebox was not very large but ample. The hearthstone was a +big sheet of smooth gray sandstone. The sides and top were Henry's +collection of brilliant boulders, carefully and artistically laid +in blue mortar, and over the firebox was set Peter's slab of gray +sandstone. On it were four deeply carved lines. The quaint Old English +lettering was filled even to the surface with a red mortar, while the +capitals were done in dull blue. The girl slowly read: + + Voiceless stones, with Flame-tongues Preach Sermons struck +from Nature's Lyre; Notes of Love and Trust and Hope Hourly sing in +Linda's Fire. + +In the firebox stood a squat pair of black andirons, showing age and +usage. A rough eucalyptus log waited across them while the shavings from +the placing of the mantel and the cutting of the windows were tucked +beneath it. Linda stood absorbed a minute. She looked at the skylight, +flooding the room with the light she so needed coming from the right +angle. She went over to the new window that gave her a view of the +length of the valley she loved and a most essential draft. When she +turned back to the fireplace her hands were trembling. + +“Now isn't that too lovely of them?” she said softly. “Isn't that +altogether wonderful? How I wish Daddy were here to sit beside my fire +and share with me the work I hope to do here.” + +In order to come as close to him as possible she did the next best +thing. She sat down at her table and wrote a long letter to Marian, +telling her everything she could think of that would interest her. +Then she re-read with extreme care the letter she had found at the Post +Office that day in reply to the one she had written Marian purporting to +come from an admirer. Writing slowly and thinking deeply, she answered +it. She tried to imagine that she was Peter Morrison and she tried to +say the things in that letter that she thought Peter would say in the +circumstances, because she felt sure that Marian would be entertained +by such things as Peter would say. When she finished, she read it over +carefully, and then copied it with equal care on the typewriter, which +she had removed to her workroom. + +When she heard Katy's footstep outside her door, she opened it and drew +her in, slipping the bolt behind her. She led her to the fireplace and +recited the lines. + +“Now ain't they jist the finest gentlemen?” said Katy. “Cut right off +of a piece of the same cloth as your father. Now some way we must +get together enough money to get ye a good-sized rug for under your +worktable, and then ye've got to have two bits of small ones, one for +your hearthstone and one for your aisel; and then ye're ready, colleen, +to show what ye can do. I'm so proud of ye when I think of the grand +secret it's keepin' for ye I am; and less and less are gettin' me +chances for the salvation of me soul, for every night I'm a-sittin' +starin' at the magazines ye gave me when I ought to be tellin' me beads +and makin' me devotions. Ain't it about time the third was comin' in?” + +“Any day now,” said Linda in a whisper. “And, Katy, you'll be careful? +That editor must think that 'Jane Meredith' is full of years and ripe +experience. I probably wouldn't get ten cents, no not even a for-nothing +chance, if he knew those articles were written by a Junior.” + +“Junior nothing!” scoffed Katy. “There was not a day of his life that +your pa did not spend hours drillin' ye in things the rest of the +girls in your school never heard of. 'Tain't no high-school girl that's +written them articles. It's Alexander Strong speakin' through the medium +of his own flesh and blood.” + +“Why, so it is, Katy!” cried Linda delightedly. “You know, I never +thought of that. I have been so egoistical I thought I was doing them +myself.” + +“Paid ye anything yet?” queried Katy. + +“No,” said Linda, “they haven't. It seems that the amount of interest +the articles evoke is going to decide what I am to be paid for them, but +they certainly couldn't take the recipe and the comments and the sketch +for less than twenty-five or thirty dollars, unless recipes are like +poetry. Peter said the other day that if a poet did not have some other +profession to support him, he would starve to death on all he was paid +for writing the most beautiful things that ever are written in all this +world. Peter says even an effort to write a poem is a beautiful thing.” + +“Well, maybe that used to be the truth,” said Katy as she started toward +the door, “but I have been reading some things labeled 'poetry' in the +magazines of late, and if the holy father knows what they mean, he's +even bigger than ever I took him to be.” + +“Katy,” said Linda, “we are dreadful back numbers. We are letting this +world progress and roll right on past us without a struggle. We haven't +either one been to a psychoanalyst to find out the color of our auras.” + +“Now God forbid,” said Katy. “I ain't going to have one of them things +around me. The colors I'm wearin' satisfy me entoirely.” + +“And mine are going to satisfy me very shortly, now,” laughed Linda, +“because tomorrow is my big day with Eileen. Next time we have a minute +together, old dear, I'll have started my bank account.” + +“Right ye are,” said Katy, “jist exactly right. You're getting such +a great girl it's the proper thing ye should be suitably dressed, and +don't ye be too modest.” + +“The unfortunate thing about that, Katy, is that l intimated the other +day that I would be content with less than half, since she is older and +she should have her chance first.” + +“Now ain't that jist like ye?” said Katy. “I might have known ye would +be doing that very thing.” + +“After I have gone over the accounts,” said Linda, “I'll know better +what to demand. Now fly to your cooking, Katy, and let me sit down at +this table and see if I can dig out a few dollars of honest coin; but +I'm going to have hard work to keep my eyes on the paper with that +fireplace before me. Isn't that red and blue lettering the prettiest +thing, Katy, and do you notice that tiny 'P. M.' cut down in the lower +left-hand corner nearly out of sight? That, Katy, stands for 'Peter +Morrison,' and one of these days Peter is going to be a large figure on +the landscape. The next Post he has an article in I'll buy for you.” + +“It never does,” said Katy, “to be makin' up your mind in this world so +hard and fast that ye can't change it. In the days before John Gilman +got bewitched out of his senses I did think, barrin' your father, that +he was the finest man the Lord ever made; but I ain't thought so much of +him of late as I did before.” + +“Same holds good for me,” said Linda. + +“I've studied this Peter,” continued Katy, “like your pa used to study +things under his microscope. He's the most come-at-able man. He's got +such a kind of a questionin' look on his face, and there's a bit of a +stoop to his shoulders like they had been whittled out for carryin' +a load, and there's a kind of a whimsy quiverin' around his lips that +makes me heart stand still every time he speaks to me, because I can't +be certain whether he is going to make me laugh or going to make me cry, +and when what he's sayin' does come with that little slow drawl, I can't +be just sure whether he's meanin' it or whether he's jist pokin' fun +at me. He said the quarest thing to me the other day when he was here +fiddlin' over the makin' of this fireplace. He was standin' out beside +your desert garden and I come aven with him and I says to him: 'Them's +the rare plants Miss Linda and her pa have been goin' to the deserts and +the canyons, as long as he lived, to fetch in; and then Miss Linda +went alone, and now the son of Judge Whiting, the biggest lawyer in Los +Angeles, has begun goin' with her. Ain't it the brightest, prettiest +place?' I says to him. And he stood there lookin', and he says to me: +'No, Katy, that is a graveyard.' Now what in the name of raison was the +man meanin' by that?” + +Linda stared at the hearth motto reflectively. + +“A graveyard!” she repeated. “Well, if anything could come farther from +a graveyard than that spot, I don't know how it would do it. I haven't +the remotest notion what he meant. Why didn't you ask him?” + +“Well, the truth is,” said Katy, “that I proide myself on being able to +kape me mouth shut when I should.” + +“I'll leave to think over it,” said Linda. “At present I have no +more idea than you in what respect my desert garden could resemble a +graveyard. Oh! yes, there's one thing I wanted to ask you, Katy. Has +Eileen been around while this room was being altered?” + +“She came in yesterday,” answered Katy, “when the hammerin' and sawin' +was goin' full blast.” + +“What I wanted to find out'” said Linda, “was whether she had been here +and seen this room or not, because if she hasn't and she wants to see +it, now is her time. After I get things going here and these walls are +covered with drying sketches this room is going to be strictly private. +You see that you keep your key where nobody gets hold of it.” + +“It's on a string round me neck this blessed minute,” said Katy. “I +didn't see her come up here, but ye could be safe in bettin' anything +ye've got that she came.” + +“Yes, I imagine she did,” said Linda. “She would be sufficiently curious +that she would come to learn how much I have spent if she had no other +interest in me.” + +She looked at the fireplace reflectively. + +“I wonder,” she said, “what Eileen thought of that and I wonder if she +noticed that little 'P. M.' tucked away down there in the corner.” + +“Sure she did,” said Katy. “She has got eyes like a cat. She can see +more things in a shorter time than anybody I ever knew.” So that evening +at dinner Linda told Eileen that the improvements she had made for her +convenience in the billiard room were finished, and asked her if she +would like to see them. + +“I can't imagine what you want to stick yourself off up there alone +for,” said Eileen. “I don't believe I am sufficiently interested in +garret skylights and windows to climb up to look at them. What everybody +in the neighborhood can see is that you have absolutely ruined the looks +of the back part of the house.” + +“Good gracious!” said Linda. “Have I? You know I never thought of that.” + +“Of course! But all you've got to do is go on the cast lawn and take +a look at that side and the back end of the house to see what you have +done,” said Eileen. “Undoubtedly you've cut the selling price of the +house one thousand, at least. But it's exactly like you not to have +thought of what chopping up the roof and the end of the house as +you have done, would make it look like. You have got one of those +single-track minds, Linda, that can think of only one thing at a time, +and you never do think, when you start anything, of what the end is +going to be.” + +“Very likely there's a large amount of truth in that,” said Linda +soberly. “Perhaps I do get an idea and pursue it to the exclusion of +everything else. It's an inheritance from Daddy, this concentrating +with all my might on one thing at a time. But I am very sorry if I have +disfigured the house.” + +“What I want to know,” said Eileen, “is how in this world, at present +wages and cost of material, you're expecting to pay men for the work you +have had done.” + +“I can talk more understandingly about that,” said Linda quietly, “day +after tomorrow. I'll get home from school tomorrow as early as I can, +and then we'll figure out our financial situation exactly.” + +Eileen made no reply. + + + +CHAPTER XVI. Producing the Evidence + +When Linda hurried home the next evening, her first word to Katy was to +ask if Eileen were there. + +“No, she isn't here,” said Katy, “and she's not going to be.” + +“Not going to be!” cried Linda, her face paling perceptibly. + +“She went downtown this morning and she telephoned me about three +sayin' she had an invoitation to go with a motor party to Pasadena this +afternoon, an' she wasn't knowin' whether she could get home the night +or not.” + +“I don't like it,” said Linda. “I don't like it at all.” + +She liked it still less when Eileen came home for a change of clothing +the following day, and again went to spend the night with a friend, +without leaving any word whatever. + +“I don't understand this,” said Linda, white lipped and tense. “She does +not want to see me. She does not intend to talk business with me if she +can possibly help it. She is treating me as if I were a four-year-old +instead of a woman with as much brain as she has. If she appears while +I am gone tomorrow and starts away again, you tell her Come to think of +it, you needn't tell her anything; I'll give you a note for her.” + +So Linda sat down and wrote: + +DEAR EILEEN: + +It won't be necessary to remind you of our agreement night before last +to settle on an allowance from Father's estate for me. Of course I +realize that you are purposely avoiding seeing me, for what reason I +can't imagine; but I give you warning, that if you have been in this +house and have read this note, and are not here with your figures ready +to meet me when I get home tomorrow night, I'll take matters into my own +hands, and do exactly what I think best without the slightest reference +to what you think about it. If you don't want something done that you +will dislike, even more than you dislike seeing me, you had better heed +this warning. + +LINDA. + +She read it over slowly: “My, that sounds melodramatic!” she commented. +“It's even got a threat in it, and it's a funny thing to threaten my own +sister. I don't think that it's a situation that occurs very frequently, +but for that matter I sincerely hope that Eileen isn't the kind of +sister that occurs frequently.” + +Linda went up to her room and tried to settle herself to work, but found +that it was impossible to fix her attention on what she was doing. Her +mind jumped from one thing to another in a way that totally prohibited +effective work of any kind. A sudden resolve came into her heart. She +would not wait any longer. She would know for herself just how she was +situated financially. She wrote a note to the editor of Everybody's +Home, asking him if it would be convenient to let her know what +reception her work was having with his subscribers, whether he desired +her to continue the department in his magazines, and if so, what was +the best offer he could make her for the recipes, the natural history +comments accompanying them, and the sketches. Then she went down to the +telephone book and looked up the location of the Consolidated Bank. She +decided that she would stop there on her way from school the next day +and ask to be shown the Strong accounts. + +While she was meditating these heroic measures the bell rang and Katy +admitted John Gilman. Strangely enough, he was asking for Linda, not for +Eileen. At the first glimpse of him Linda knew that something was wrong; +so without any prelude she said abruptly: “What's the matter, John? +Don't you know where I Eileen is either?” + +“Approximately,” he answered. “She has 'phoned me two or three times, +but I haven't seen her for three days. Do you know where she is or +exactly why she is keeping away from home as she is?” + +“Yes,” said Linda, “I do. I told you the other day the time had come +when I was going to demand a settlement of Father's estate and a fixed +income. That time came three days ago and I have not seen Eileen since.” + +They entered the living room. As Linda passed the table, propped against +a candlestick on it, she noticed a note addressed to herself. + +“Oh, here will be an explanation,” she said. “Here is a note for me. Sit +down a minute till I read it.” + +She seated herself on the arm of a chair, tore open the note, and +instantly began reading aloud. + +“Dear little sister--” + +“Pathetic,” interpolated Linda, “in consideration of the fact that I am +about twice as big as she is. However, we'll let that go, and focus on +the enclosure.” She waved a slender slip of paper at Gilman. “I never +was possessed of an article like this before in all my tender young +life, but it seems to me that it's a cheque, and I can't tell you quite +how deeply it amuses me. But to return to business, at the present +instant I am: + +DEAR LITTLE SISTER: + +It seems that all the friends I have are particularly insistent on +seeing me all at once and all in a rush. I don't think I ever had quite +so many invitations at one time in my life before, and the next two or +three days seem to be going to be equally as full. But I took time to +run into the bank and go over things carefully. I find that after the +payment of taxes and insurance and all the household expenses, that by +wearing old clothes I have and making them over I can afford to turn +over at least seventy-five dollars a month to you for your clothing and +personal expenses. As I don't know exactly when I can get home, I am +enclosing a cheque which is considerably larger than I had supposed I +could make it, and I can only do this by skimping myself; but of course +you are getting such a big girl and beginning to attract attention, so +it is only right that you should have the very best that I can afford to +do for you. I am not taking the bill from The Mode into consideration. I +paid that with last month's expenses. + +With love, + +EILEEN. + +Linda held the letter in one hand, the cheque in the other, and stared +questioningly at John Gilman. + +“What do you think of that?” she inquired tersely. + +“It seems to me,” said Gilman, “that a more pertinent question would be, +what do you think of it?” + +“Rot!” said Linda tersely. “If I were a stenographer in your office I +would think that I was making a fairly good start; but I happen to be +the daughter of Alexander Strong living in my own home with my +only sister, who can afford to flit like the flittingest of social +butterflies from one party to another as well dressed as, and better +dressed than, the Great General Average. You have known us, John, ever +since Eileen sat in the sun to dry her handmade curls, while I was +leaving a piece of my dress on every busk in Multiflores Canyon. Right +here and now I am going to show you something!” + +Linda started upstairs, so John Gilman followed her. She went to the +door of Eileen's suite and opened it. + +“Now then,” she said, “take a look at what Eileen feels she can afford +for herself. You will observe she has complete and exquisite furnishings +and all sorts of feminine accessories on her dressing table. You will +observe that she has fine rugs in her dressing room and bathroom. Let me +call your attention to the fact that all these drawers are filled with +expensive comforts and conveniences.” + +Angrily Linda began to open drawers filled with fancy feminine apparel, +daintily and neatly folded, everything in perfect order: gloves, hose, +handkerchiefs, ribbons, laces, all in separate compartments She +pointed to the high chiffonier, the top decorated with candlesticks and +silver-framed pictures. Here the drawers revealed heaps of embroidered +underclothing and silken garments. Then she walked to the closet and +threw the door wide. + +She pushed hangers on their rods, sliding before the perplexed and +bewildered man dress after dress of lace and georgette, walking suits of +cloth, street dresses of silk, and pretty afternoon gowns, heavy coats, +light coats, a beautiful evening coat. Linda took this down and held it +in front of John Gilman. + +“I see things marked in store windows,” she said. “Eileen paid not a +penny less than three hundred for this one coat. Look at the rows of +shoes, and pumps, and slippers, and what that box is or I don't know.” + +Linda slid to the light a box screened by the hanging dresses, and +with the toe of her shoe lifted the lid, disclosing a complete smoking +outfit--case after case of cigarettes. Linda dropped the lid and shoved +the box back. She stood silent a second, then she looked at John Gilman. + +“That is the way things go in this world,” she said quietly. “Whenever +you lose your temper, you always do something you didn't intend to do +when you started. I didn't know that, and I wouldn't have shown it to +you purposely if I had known it; but it doesn't alter the fact that you +should know it. If you did know it no harm's done but if you didn't know +it, you shouldn't be allowed to marry Eileen without knowing as much +about her as you did about Marian, and there was nothing about Marian +that you didn't know. I am sorry for that, but since I have started this +I am going through with it. Now give me just one minute more.” + +Then she went down the hall, threw open the door to her room, and +walking in said: “You have seen Eileen's surroundings; now take a look +at mine. There's my bed; there's my dresser and toilet articles; and +this is my wardrobe.” + +She opened the closet door and exhibited a pair of overalls in which she +watered her desert garden. Next ranged her khaki breeches and felt hat. +Then hung the old serge school dress, beside it the extra skirt and +orange blouse. The stack of underclothing on the shelves was pitifully +small, visibly dilapidated. Two or three outgrown gingham dresses hung +forlornly on the opposite wall. Linda stood tall and straight before +John Gilman. + +“What I have on and one other waist constitute my wardrobe,” she said, +“and I told Eileen where to get this dress and suggested it before I got +it.” + +Gilman looked at her in a dazed fashion. + +“I don't understand,” he said slowly. “If that isn't the dress I saw +Eileen send up for herself, I'm badly mistaken. It was the Saturday we +went to Riverside. It surely is the very dress.” + +Linda laughed bleakly. + +“That may be,” she said. “The one time she ever has any respect for me +is in a question of taste. She will agree that I know when colors are +right and a thing is artistic. Now then, John, you are the administrator +of my father's estate; you have seen what you have seen. What are you +going to do about it?” + +“Linda,” he said quietly, “what my heart might prompt me to do in +consideration of the fact that I am engaged to marry Eileen, and what my +legal sense tells me I must do as executor of your father's wishes, are +different propositions. I am going to do exactly what you tell me to. +What you have shown me, and what I'd have realized, if I had stopped to +think, is neither right nor just.” + +Then Linda took her tun at deep thought. + +“John,” she said at last, “I am feeling depressed over what I have just +done. I am not sure that in losing my temper and bringing you up here I +have played the game fairly. You don't need to do anything. I'll manage +my affairs with Eileen myself. But I'll tell you before you go, that you +needn't practice any subterfuges. When she reaches the point where she +is ready to come home, I'll tell her that you were here, and what you +have seen. That is the best I can do toward squaring myself with my own +conscience.” + +Slowly they walked down the hall together. At the head of the stairs +Linda took the cheque that she carried and tore it into bits. Stepping +across the hall, she let the little heap slowly flutter to the rug in +front of Eileen's door. Then she went back to her room and left John +Gilman to his own reflections. + + + +CHAPTER XVII. A Rock and a Flame + +The first time Linda entered the kitchen after her interview with +Gilman, Katy asked in deep concern, “Now what ye been doing, lambie?” + +“Doing the baby act, Katy,” confessed Linda. “Disgracing myself. Losing +my temper. I wish I could bring myself to the place where I would think +half a dozen times before I do a thing once.” + +“Now look here,” said Katy, beginning to bristle, “ain't it the truth +that ye have thought for four years before ye did this thing once?” + +“Quite so,” said Linda. “But since I am the daughter of the finest +gentleman I ever knew, I should not do hasty, regrettable things. On the +living-room table I found a note sweeter than honey, and it contained a +cheque for me that wouldn't pay Eileen's bills for lunches, candy, +and theaters for a month; so in undue heat I reduced it to bits and +decorated the rug before her door. But before that, Katy, I led my +guardian into the room, and showed him everything. I meant to tell him +that, since he had neglected me for four years, he could see that I had +justice now, but when I'd personally conducted him from Eileen's room +to mine, and when I took a good look at him there was something on his +face, Katy, that I couldn't endure. So I told him to leave it to me; +that I would tell Eileen myself what I had done, and so I will. But I am +sorry I did it, Katy; I am awfully sorry. You always told me to keep +my temper and I lost it completely. From now on I certainly will try to +behave myself more like a woman than a spoiled child. Now give me a dust +cloth and brushes. I am almost through with my job in the library and +I want to finish, because I shall be forced to use the money from the +books to pay for my skylight and fireplace.” + +Linda went to the library and began work, efficiently, carefully, yet +with a precise rapidity habitual to her. Down the long line of heavy +technical books, she came to the end of the shelf. Three books from +the end she noticed a difference in the wall behind the shelf. Hastily +removing the other two volumes, she disclosed a small locked door having +a scrap of paper protruding from the edge which she pulled out and upon +which she read: + +In the event of my passing, should anyone move these books and find this +door, these lines are to inform him that it is to remain untouched. The +key to it is in my safety-deposit vault at the Consolidated Bank. The +Bank will open the door and attend to the contents of the box at the +proper time. + +Linda fixed the paper back exactly as she had found it. She stood +looking at the door a long time, then she carefully wiped it, the wall +around it, and the shelf. Going to another shelf, she picked out the +books that had been written by her father and, beginning at the end of +the shelf, she ranged them in a row until they completely covered the +opening. Then she finished filling the shelf with other books that she +meant to keep, but her brain was working, milling over and over the +question of what that little compartment contained and when it was to +be opened and whether John Gilman knew about it, and whether the +Consolidated Bank would remember the day specified, and whether it would +mean anything important to her. + +She carried the dusters back to Katy, and going to her room, +concentrated resolutely upon her work; but she Was unable to do anything +constructive. Her routine lessons she could prepare, but she could not +even sketch a wild rose accurately. Finally she laid down her pencil, +washed her brushes, put away her material, and locking her door, slipped +the key into her pocket. Going down to the garage she climbed into the +Bear Cat and headed straight for Peter Morrison. She drove into his +location and blew the horn. Peter stepped from the garage, and seeing +her, started in her direction. Linda sprang down and hurried toward +him. He looked at her intently as she approached and formed his own +conclusions. + +“Sort of restless,” said Linda. “Couldn't evolve a single new idea with +which to enliven the gay annals of English literature and Greek history. +A personal history seems infinitely more insistent and unusual. I ran +away from my lessons, and my work, and came to you, Peter, because I had +a feeling that there was something you could give me, and I thought you +would.” + +Peter smiled a slow curious smile. + +“I like your line of thought, Linda,” he said quietly. “It greatly +appeals to me. Any time an ancient and patriarchal literary man named +Peter Morrison can serve as a rock upon which a young thing can rest, +why he'll be glad to be that rock.” + +“What were you doing?” asked Linda abruptly. + +“Come and see,” said Peter. + +He led the way to the garage. His worktable and the cement floor around +it were littered with sheets of closely typed paper. + +“I'll have to assemble them first,” said Peter, getting down on his +knees and beginning to pick them up. + +Linda sat on a packing case and watched him. Already she felt comforted. +Of course Peter was a rock, of course anyone could trust him, and of +course if the tempest of life beat upon her too strongly she could +always fly to Peter. + +“May I?” she inquired, stretching her hand in the direction of a sheet. + +“Sure,” said Peter. + +“What is it?” inquired Linda lightly. “The bridge or the road or the +playroom?” + +“Gad!” he said slowly. “Don't talk about me being a rock! Rocks are +stolid, stodgy unresponsive things. I thought I was struggling with +one of the biggest political problems of the day from an economic and +psychological standpoint. If I'd had sense enough to realize that it +was a bridge I was building, I might have done the thing with some +imagination and subtlety. If you want a rock and you say I am a rock, a +rock I'll be, Linda. But I know what you are, and what you will be to me +when we really become the kind of friends we are destined to be.” + +“I wonder now,” said Linda, “if you are going to say that I could be any +such lovely thing on the landscape as a bridge.” + +“No,” said Peter slowly, “nothing so prosaic. Bridges are common in +this world. You are going to be something uncommon. History records +the experiences of but one man who has seen a flame in the open. I am a +second Moses and you are going to be my burning bush. I intended to read +this article to you.” + +Peter massed the sheets, straightened them on the desk, and deliberately +ripped them across several times. Linda sprang to her feet and stretched +out her hands. + +“Why, Peter!” she cried in a shocked voice. “That is perfectly +inexcusable. There are hours and hours of work on that, and I have not a +doubt but that it was good work.” + +“Simple case of mechanism,” said Peter, reducing the bits to smaller +size and dropping them into the empty nail keg that served as his +wastebasket. “A lifeless thing without a soul, mere clockwork. I have +got the idea now. I am to build a bridge and make a road. Every way +I look I can see a golden-flame tongue of inspiration burning. I'll +rewrite that thing and animate it. Take me for a ride, Linda.” + +Linda rose and walked to the Bear Cat. Peter climbed in and sat beside +her. Linda laid her hands on the steering wheel and started the car. She +ran it down to the highway and chose a level road leading straight +down the valley through cultivated country. In all the world there was +nothing to equal the panorama that she spread before Peter that evening. +She drove the Bear Cat past orchards, hundreds of acres of orchards +of waxen green leaves and waxen white bloom of orange, grapefruit, and +lemon. She took him where seas of pink outlined peach orchards, and +other seas the more delicate tint of the apricots. She glided down +avenues lined with palm and eucalyptus, pepper and olive, and through +unbroken rows, extending for miles, of roses, long stretches of white, +again a stretch of pink, then salmon, yellow, and red. Nowhere in all +the world are there to be found so many acres of orchard bloom and +so many miles of tree-lined, rose-decorated roadway as in southern +California. She sent the little car through the evening until she felt +that it was time to go home, and when at last she stopped where they had +started, she realized that neither she nor Peter had spoken one word. As +he stepped from the car she leaned toward him and reached out her hand. + +“Thank you for the fireplace, Peter,” she said. + +Peter took the hand she extended and held it one minute in both his own. +Then very gently he straightened it out in the palm of one of his hands +and with the other hand turned back the fingers and laid his lips to the +heart of it. + +“Thank you, Linda, for the flame,” he said, and turning abruptly, he +went toward his workroom. + +Stopping for a bite to eat in the kitchen, Linda went back to her room. +She sat down at the table and picking up her pencil, began to work, and +found that she could work. Every stroke came true and strong. Every idea +seemed original and unusual. Quite as late as a light ever had shone in +her window, it shone that night, the last thing she did being to +write another anonymous letter to Marian, and when she reread it Linda +realized that it was an appealing letter. She thought it certainly would +comfort Marian and surely would make her feel that someone worth while +was interested in her and in her work. She loved some of the whimsical +little touches she had put into it, and she wondered if she had made +it so much like Peter Morrison that it would be suggestive of him +to Marian. She knew that she had no right to do that and had no such +intention. She merely wanted a model to copy from and Peter seemed the +most appealing model at hand. + +After school the next day Linda reported that she had finished going +through the books and was ready to have them taken. Then, after a few +minutes of deep thought, she made her way to the Consolidated Bank. At +the window of the paying teller she explained that she wished to see +the person connected with the bank who had charge of the safety-deposit +boxes and who looked after the accounts pertaining to the estate of +Alexander Strong. The teller recognized the name. He immediately became +deferential. + +“I'll take you to the office of the president,” he said. “He and Doctor +Strong were very warm friends. You can explain to him what it is you +want to know.” + +Before she realized what was happening, Linda found herself in an office +that was all mahogany and marble. At a huge desk stacked with papers sat +a man, considerably older than her father. Linda remembered to have seen +him frequently in their home, in her father's car, and she recalled one +fishing expedition to the Tulare Lake region where he had been a member +of her father's party. + +“Of course you have forgotten me, Mr. Worthington,” she said as she +approached his desk. “I have grown such a tall person during the past +four years.” + +The white-haired financier rose and stretched out his hand. + +“You exact replica of Alexander Strong,” he said laughingly, “I couldn't +forget you any more than I could forget your father. That fine fishing +trip where you proved such a grand little scout is bright in my memory +as one of my happiest vacations. Sit down and tell me what I can do for +you.” + +Linda sat down and told him that she was dissatisfied with the manner in +which her father's estate was being administered. + +He listened very carefully to all she had to say, then he pressed a +button and gave a few words of instruction to the clerk who answered +it. When several ledgers and account books were laid before him, +with practiced hand he turned to what he wanted. The records were not +complicated. They covered a period of four years. They showed exactly +what monies had been paid into the bank for the estate. They showed what +royalties had been paid on the books. Linda sat beside him and watched +his pencil running up and down columns, setting down a list of items, +and making everything plain. Paid cheques for household expenses I and +drygoods bills were all recorded and deducted. With narrow, alert eyes, +Linda was watching, and her brain was keenly alive. As she realized the +discrepancy between the annual revenue from the estate and the totaling +of the expenses, she had an inspiration. Something she never before had +thought of occurred to her. She looked the banker in the eye and said +very quietly: “And now, since she is my sister and I am going to be of +age very shortly and these things must all be gone into and opened up, +would it be out of place for me to ask you this afternoon to let me have +a glimpse at the private account of Miss Eileen Strong?” + +The banker drew a deep breath and looked at Linda keenly. + +“That would not be customary,” he said slowly. + +“No?” said Linda. “But since Father and Mother went out at the same time +and there was no will and the property would be legally divided equally +between us upon my coming of age, would my sister be entitled to a +private account?” + +“Had she any sources of obtaining money outside the estate?” + +“No,” said Linda. “At least none that I know of. Mother had I some +relatives in San Francisco who were very wealthy people, but they never +came to see us and we never went there. I know nothing about them. I +never had any money from them and I am quite sure Eileen never had.” + +Linda sat very quietly a minute and then she looked at the banker. + +“Mr. Worthington,” she said, “the situation is slightly peculiar. My +guardian, John Gilman, is engaged to marry my sister Eileen. She is a +beautiful girl, as you no doubt recall, and he is very much in love with +her. Undoubtedly she has been able, at least recently, to manage affairs +very much in her own way. She is more than four years my senior, and has +always had charge of the household accounts and the handling of the bank +accounts. Since there is such a wide discrepancy between the returns +from the property and the expenses that these books show, I am forced to +the conclusion that there must be upon your books, or the books of some +other bank in the city, a private account in Eileen's name or in the +name of the Strong estate.” + +“That I can very easily ascertain,” said Mr. Worthington, reaching again +toward the button on his desk. A few minutes later the report came that +there was a private account in the name of Miss Eileen Strong. Again +Linda was deeply thoughtful. + +“Is there anything I can do,” she inquired, “to prevent that account +from being changed or drawn out previous to my coming of age?” + +Then Mr. Worthington grew thoughtful. + +“Yes,” he said at last. “If you are dissatisfied, if you feel that you +have reason to believe that money rightfully belonging to you is being +diverted to other channels, you have the right to issue an injunction +against the bank, ordering it not to pay out any further money on +any account nor to honor any cheques drawn by Miss Strong until the +settlement of the estate. Ask your guardian to execute and deliver such +an injunction, or merely ask him, as your guardian and the administrator +of the estate, to give the bank a written order to that effect.” + +“But because he is engaged to Eileen, I told him I would not bring him +into this matter,” said Linda. “I told him that I would do what I wanted +done, myself.” + +“Well, how long is it until this coming birthday of yours?” inquired Mr. +Worthington. + +“Less than two weeks,” answered Linda. + +For a time the financier sat in deep thought, then he looked at Linda. +It was a keen, searching look. It went to the depths of her eyes; it +included her face and hair; it included the folds of her dress, the cut +of her shoe, and rested attentively on the slender hands lying quietly +in her lap. + +“I see the circumstances very clearly,” he said. “I sympathize with your +position. Having known your father and being well acquainted with your +guardian, would you be satisfied if I should take the responsibility of +issuing to the clerks an order not to allow anything to be drawn from +the private account until the settlement of the estate?” + +“Perfectly satisfied,” said Linda. + +“It might be,” said Mr. Worthington, “managing matters i that way, that +no one outside of ourselves need ever know of il Should your sister not +draw on the private account in the mean time, she would be free to draw +household cheques on the monthly income and if in the settlement of the +estate she turns in this private account or accounts, she need never +know of the restriction concerning this fund.” + +“Thank you very much,” said Linda. “That will fix everything finely.” + +On her way to the street car, Linda's brain whirled. + +“It's not conceivable,” she said, “that Eileen should be enriching +herself at my expense. I can't imagine her being dishonest in money +affairs, and yet I can recall scarcely a circumstance in life in which +Eileen has ever hesitated to be dishonest when a lie served her purpose +better than the truth. Anyway, matters are safe now.” + +The next day the books were taken and a cheque for their value was +waiting for Linda when she reached home. She cashed this cheque and +went straight to Peter Morrison for his estimate of the expenses for the +skylight and fireplace. When she asked for the bill Peter hesitated. + +“You wouldn't accept this little addition to your study as a gift from +Henry and me?” he asked lightly. “It would be a great pleasure to us if +you would.” + +“I could accept stones that Henry Anderson had gathered from the +mountains and canyons, and I could accept a verse carved on stone, and +be delighted with the gift; but I couldn't accept hours of day labor +at the present price of labor, so you will have to give me the bill, +Peter.” + +Peter did not have the bill, but he had memoranda, and when Linda paid +him she reflected that the current talk concerning the inflated price of +labor was greatly exaggerated. + +For two evenings as Linda returned from school and went to her room she +glanced down the hall and smiled at the decoration remaining on Eileen's +rug. The third evening it was gone, so that she knew Eileen was either +in her room or had been there. She did not meet her sister until +dinnertime. She was prepared to watch Eileen, to study her closely. She +was not prepared to admire her, but in her heart she almost did that +very thing. Eileen had practiced subterfuges so long, she was so +accomplished, that it would have taken an expert to distinguish reality +from subterfuge. She entered the dining room humming a gay tune. She was +carefully dressed and appealingly beautiful. She blew a kiss to Linda +and waved gaily to Katy. + +“I was rather afraid,” she said lightly, “that I might find you two in +mourning when I got back. I never stayed so long before, did I? Seemed +as if every friend I had made special demand on my time all at once. +Hope you haven't been dull without me.” + +“Oh, no,” said Linda quietly. “Being away at school all day, of course +I wouldn't know whether you were at home or not, and I have grown so +accustomed to spending my evenings alone that I don't rely on you for +entertainment at any time.” + +“In other words,” said Eileen, “it doesn't make any difference to you +where I am.” + +“Not so far as enjoying your company is concerned,” said Linda. +“Otherwise, of course it makes a difference. I hope you had a happy +time.” + +“Oh, I always have a happy time,” answered Eileen lightly. “I certainly +have the best friends.” + +“That's your good fortune,” answered Linda. + +At the close of the meal Linda sat waiting. Eileen gave Katy +instructions to have things ready for a midnight lunch for her and John +Gilman and then, humming her tune again, she left the dining room and +went upstairs. Linda stood looking after her. + + “Now or never,” she said at last. “I have no business to let +her meet John until I have recovered my self-respect. But the Lord help +me to do the thing decently!” + +So she followed Eileen up the stairway. She tapped at the door, and +without waiting to hear whether she was invited or not, opened it and +stepped inside. Eileen was sitting before the window, a big box of candy +beside her, a magazine in her fingers. + +Evidently she intended to keep her temper in case the coming interview +threatened to become painful. + +“I was half expecting you,” she said, “you silly hothead. I found the +cheque I wrote you when I got home this afternoon. That was a foolish +thing to do. Why did you tear it up? If it were too large or if it were +not enough why didn't you use it and ask for another? Because I had +to be away that was merely to leave you something to go on until I got +back.” + +Then Linda did the most disconcerting thing possible. In her effort at +self-control she went too far. She merely folded her hands in her lap +and sat looking straight at Eileen without saying one word. It did not +show much on the surface, but Eileen really had a conscience, she really +had a soul; Linda's eyes, resting rather speculatively on her, were +honest eyes, and Eileen knew what she knew. She flushed and fidgeted, +and at last she broke out impatiently: “Oh, for goodness' sake, Linda, +don't play 'Patience-on-a-monument.' Speak up and say what it is that +you want. If that cheque was not big enough, what will satisfy you?” + +“Come to think of it,” said Linda quietly, “I can get along with what I +have for the short time until the legal settlement of our interests is +due. You needn't bother any more about a cheque.” + +Eileen was surprised and her face showed it; and she was also relieved. +That too her face showed. + +“I always knew,” she said lightly, “that I had a little sister with +a remarkably level head and good common sense. I am glad that you +recognize the awful inflation of prices during the war period, and how I +have had to skimp and scheme and save in order to make ends meet and to +keep us going on Papa's meager income.” + +All Linda's good resolutions vanished. She was under strong nervous +tension. It irritated her to have Eileen constantly referring to their +monetary affairs as if they were practically paupers, as if their +father's life had been a financial failure, as if he had not been able +to realize from achievements recognized around the world a comfortable +living for two women. + +“Oh, good Lord!” she said shortly. “Bluff the rest of the world like +a professional, Eileen, but why try it with me? You're right about my +having common sense. I'll admit that I am using it now. I will be of +age in a few days, and then we'll take John Gilman and go to the +Consolidated Bank, and if it suits your convenience to be absent for +four or five days at that period, I'll take John Gilman and we'll go +together.” + +Eileen was amazed. The receding color in her cheeks left the rouge on +them a ghastly, garish thing. + +“Well, I won't do anything of the sort,” she said hotly, “and neither +will John Gilman.” + +“Unfortunately for you,” answered Linda, “John Gilman is my guardian, +not yours. He'll be forced to do what the law says he must, and what +common decency tells him he must, no matter what his personal feelings +are; and I might as well tell you that your absence has done you no +good. You'd far better have come home, as you agreed to, and gone over +the books and made me a decent allowance, because in your absence John +came here to ask me where you were, and I know that he was anxious.” + +“He came here!” cried Eileen. + +“Why, yes,” said Linda. “Was it anything unusual? Hasn't he been coming +here ever since I can remember? Evidently you didn't keep him as well +posted this time as you usually do. He came here and asked for me.” + +“And I suppose,” said Eileen, an ugly red beginning to rush into her +white cheeks, “that you took pains to make things uncomfortable for me.” + +“I am very much afraid,” said Linda, “that you are right. You have +made things uncomfortable for me ever since I can remember, for I can't +remember the time when you were not finding fault with me, putting me in +the wrong and getting me criticized and punished if you possibly could. +It was a fair understanding that you should be here, and you were not, +and I was seeing red about it; and just as John came in I found your +note in the living room and read it aloud.' + +“Oh, well, there was nothing in that,” said Eileen in a relieved tone. + +“Nothing in the wording of it, no,” said Linda, “but there was +everything in the intention back of it. Because you did not live up to +your tacit agreement, and because I had been on high tension for two or +three days, I lost my temper completely. I brought John Gilman up here +and showed him the suite of rooms in which you have done for yourself, +for four years. I gave him rather a thorough inventory of your dressing +table and drawers, and then I opened the closet door and called his +attention to the number and the quality of the garments hanging there. +The box underneath them I thought was a shoe box, but it didn't prove to +be exactly that; and for that I want to tell you, as I have already told +John, I am sorry. I wouldn't have done that if I had known what I was +doing.” + +“Is that all?” inquired Eileen, making a desperate effort at +self-control. + +“Not quite,” said Linda. “When I finished with your room, I took him +back and showed him mine in even greater detail than I showed him yours. +I thought the contrast would be more enlightening than anything either +one of us could say.” + +“And I suppose you realize,” said Eileen bitterly, “that you lost me +John Gilman when you did it.” + +“I?” said Linda. “I lost you John Gilman when I did it? But I didn't +do it. You did it. You have been busy for four years doing it. If you +hadn't done it, it wouldn't have been there for me to show him. I can't +see that this is profitable. Certainly it's the most distressing thing +that ever has occurred for me. But I didn't feel that I could let you +meet John Gilman tonight without telling you what he knows. If you have +any way to square your conscience and cleanse your soul before you meet +him, you had better do it, for he's a mighty fine man and if you lose +him you will have lost the best chance that is likely ever to come to +you.” + +Linda sat studying Eileen. She saw the gallant effort she was making +to keep her self-possession, to think with her accustomed rapidity, to +strike upon some scheme whereby she could square herself. She rose and +started toward the door. + +“What you'll say to John I haven't the faintest notion,” she said. “I +told him very little. I just showed him.” + +Then she went out and closed the door after her. At the foot of the +stairs she met Katy admitting Gilman. Without any preliminaries she +said: “I repeat, John, that I'm sorry for what happened the other day. +I have just come from Eileen. She will be down as soon as Katy tells her +you're here, no doubt. I have done what I told you I would. She knows +what I showed you so you needn't employ any subterfuges. You can be +frank and honest with each other.” + +“I wish to God we could,” said John Gilman. + +Linda went to her work. She decided that she would gauge what happened +by the length of time John stayed. If he remained only a few minutes it +would indicate that there had been a rupture. If he stayed as long as he +usually did, the chances were that Eileen's wit had triumphed as usual. + +At twelve o'clock Linda laid her pencils in the box, washed the brushes, +and went down the back stairs to the ice chest for a glass of milk. The +living room was still lighted and Linda thought Eileen's laugh quite +as gay as she ever had heard it. Linda closed her lips very tight and +slowly climbed the stairs. When she entered her room she walked up to +the mirror and stared at herself in the glass for a long time, and then +of herself she asked this question: + +“Well, how do you suppose she did it?” + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. Spanish Iris + +Just as Linda was most deeply absorbed with her own concerns there came +a letter from Marian which Linda read and reread several times; for +Marian wrote: + +MY DEAREST PAL: + +Life is so busy up San Francisco way that it makes Lilac Valley look in +retrospection like a peaceful sunset preliminary to bed time. + +But I want you to have the consolation and the comfort of knowing that I +have found at least two friends that I hope will endure. One is a woman +who has a room across the hall from mine in my apartment house. She is +a newspaper woman and life is very full for her, but it is filled with +such intensely interesting things that I almost regret having made my +life work anything so prosaic as inanimate houses; but then it's my +dream to enliven each house I plan with at least the spirit of home. +This woman--her name is Dana Meade--enlivens every hour of her working +day with something concerning the welfare of humanity. She is a +beautiful woman in her soul, so extremely beautiful that I can't at this +minute write you a detailed description of her hair and her eyes and her +complexion, because this nice, big, friendly light that radiates +from her so lights her up and transfigures her that everyone says how +beautiful she is, and yet I have a vague recollection that her nose is +what you would call a “beak,” and I am afraid her cheek bones are too +high for good proportion, and I know that her hair is not always so +carefully dressed as it should be, but what is the difference when +the hair is crowned with a halo? I can't swear to any of these things; +they're sketchy impressions. The only thing I am absolutely sure about +is the inner light that shines to an unbelievable degree. I wish she +had more time and I wish I had more time and that she and I might become +such friends as you and I are. I can't tell you, dear, how much I think +of you. It seems to me that you're running a sort of undercurrent in my +thoughts all day long. + +You will hardly credit it, Linda, but a few days ago I drove a car +through the thickest traffic, up a steep hill, and round a curve. I did +it, but practically collapsed when it was over. The why of it was this: +I think I told you before that in the offices of Nicholson and Snow +there is a man who is an understanding person. He is the junior partner +and his name is Eugene Snow. I happened to arrive at his desk the day +I came for my instructions and to make my plans for entering their +contest. He was very kind to me and went out of his way to smooth out +the rough places. Ever since, he makes a point of coming to me and +talking a few minutes when I am at the office or when he passes me on my +way to the drafting rooms where I take my lessons. The day I mention I +had worked late and hard the night before. I had done the last possible +thing to the plans for my dream house. At the last minute, getting it +all on paper, working at the specifications, at which you know I am +wobbly, was nervous business; and when I came from the desk after having +turned in my plans, perhaps I showed fatigue. Anyway, he said to me that +his car was below. He said also that he was a lonely person, having lost +his wife two years ago, and not being able very frequently to see his +little daughter who is in the care of her grandmother, there were times +when he was hungry for the companionship he had lost. He asked me if I +would go with him for a drive and I told him that I would. I am rather +stunned yet over what happened. The runabout he led me to was greatly +like yours, and, Linda, he stopped at a florist's and came out with an +armload of bloom--exquisite lavender and pale pink and faint yellow and +waxen white--the most enticing armload of spring. For one minute I +truly experienced a thrill. I thought he was going to give that mass of +flowers to me, but he did not. He merely laid it across my lap and said: +“Edith adored the flowers from bulbs. I never see such bloom that my +heart does not ache with a keen, angry ache to think that she should be +taken from the world, and the beauty that she so loved, so early and so +ruthlessly. We'll take her these as I would take them to her were she +living.” + +So, Linda dear, I sat there and looked at color and drank in fragrance, +and we whirled through the city and away to a cemetery on a beautiful +hill, and filled a vase inside the gates of a mausoleum with these +appealing flowers. Then we sat down, and a man with a hurt heart told +me about his hurt, and what an effort he was making to get through the +world as the woman he loved would have had him; and before I knew what +I was doing, Linda, I told him the tellable part of my own hurts. I even +lifted my turban and bowed my white head before him. This hurt--it was +one of the inexorable things that come to people in this world--I could +talk about. That deeper hurt, which has put a scar that never will be +effaced on my soul, of course I could not tell him about. But when we +went back to the car he said to me that he would help me to get +back into the sunlight. He said the first thing I must do to regain +self-confidence was to begin driving again. I told him I could not, but +he said I must, and made me take the driver's seat of a car I had +never seen and take the steering wheel of a make of machine I had never +driven, and tackle two or three serious problems for a driver. I did it +all right, Linda, because I couldn't allow myself to fail the kind of a +man Mr. Snow is, when he was truly trying to help me, but in the depths +of my heart I am afraid I am a coward forever, for there is a ghastly +illness takes possession of me as I write these details to you. But +anyway, put a red mark on your calendar beside the date on which you +get this letter, and joyfully say to yourself that Marian has found two +real, sympathetic friends. + +In a week or ten days I shall know about the contest. If I win, as I +really have a sneaking hope that I shall, since I have condensed the +best of two dozen houses into one and exhausted my imagination on +my dream home, I will surely telegraph, and you can make it a day of +jubilee. If I fail, I will try to find out where my dream was not true +and what can be done to make it materialize properly; but between us, +Linda girl, I am going to be dreadfully disappointed. I could use the +material value that prize represents. I could start my life work which +I hope to do in Lilac Valley on the prestige and the background that it +would give me. I don't know, Linda, whether you ever learned to pray +or not, but I have, and it's a thing that helps when the black +shadow comes, when you reach the land of “benefits forgot and friends +remembered not.” + +And this reminds me that I should not write to my very dearest friend +who has her own problems and make her heart sad with mine; so to the +joyful news of my two friends add a third, Linda, for I am going to tell +you a secret because it will make you happy. Since I have been in San +Francisco some man, who for a reason of his own does not tell me his +name, has been writing me extremely attractive letters. I have had +several of them and I can't tell you, Linda, what they mean to me or +how they help me. There is a touch of whimsy about them. I can't as +yet connect them with anybody I ever met, but to me they are taking the +place of a little lunch on the bread of life. They are such real, such +vivid, such alive letters from such a real person that I have been +doing the very foolish and romantic thing of answering them as my heart +dictates and signing my own name to them, which on the surface looks +unwise when the man in the case keeps his identity in the background; +but since he knows me and knows my name it seems useless to do anything +else: and answer these letters I shall and must; because every one of +them is to me a strong light thrown on John Gilman. Every time one of +these letters comes to me I have the feeling that I would like to reach +out through space and pick up the man who is writing them and dangle him +before Eileen and say to her: “Take HIM. I dare you to take HIM.” And my +confidence, Linda, is positively supreme that she could not do it. + +You know, between us, Linda, we regarded Eileen as a rare creature, a +kind of exotic thing, made to be kept in a glass house with tempered air +and warmed water; but as I go about the city and at times amuse myself +at concerts and theaters, I am rather dazed to tell you, honey, that +the world is chock full of Eileens. On the streets, in the stores, +everywhere I go, sometimes half a dozen times in a day I say to myself: +“There goes Eileen.” I haven't a doubt that Eileen has a heart, if +it has not become so calloused that nobody could ever reach it, and I +suspect she has a soul, but the more I see of her kind the more I feel +that John Gilman may have to breast rather black water before he finds +them. + +With dearest love, be sure to remember me to Katherine O'Donovan. Hug +her tight and give her my unqualified love. Don't let her forget me. + +As ever, + +MARIAN. + +This was the letter that Linda read once, then she read it again and +then she read it a third time, and after that she lost count and reread +it whenever she was not busy doing something else, for it was a letter +that was the next thing to laying hands upon Marian. The part of the +letter concerning the unknown man who was writing Marian, Linda pondered +over deeply. + +“That is the best thing I ever did in my life,” she said in +self-commendation. “It's doing more than I hoped it would. It's giving +Marian something to think about. It's giving her an interest in life. +It's distracting her attention. Without saying a word about John Gilman +it is making her see for herself the weak spots in him through the very +subtle method of calling her attention to the strength that may lie +in another man. For once in your life, Linda, you have done something +strictly worth while. The thing for you to do is to keep it up, and in +order to keep it up, to make each letter fresh and original, you will +have to do a good deal of sticking around Peter Morrison's location and +absorbing rather thoroughly the things he says. Peter doesn't know he is +writing those letters but he is in them till it's a wonder Marian does +not hear him drawl and see the imps twisting his lips as she reads them. +Before I write another single one I'll go see Peter. Maybe he will have +that article written. I'll take a pencil, and as he reads I'll jot down +the salient points and then I'll come home and work out a head and tail +piece for him to send in with it, and in that way I'll ease my soul +about the skylight and the fireplace.” + +So Linda took pad and pencils, raided Katy for everything she could find +that was temptingly edible, climbed into the Bear Cat, and went to see +Peter as frankly as she would have crossed the lawn to visit Marian. +He was not in the garage when she stopped her car before it, but the +workmen told her that he had strolled up the mountain and that probably +he would return soon. Learning that he had been gone but a short time +Linda set the Bear Cat squalling at the top of its voice. Then she took +possession of the garage, and clearing Peter's worktable spread upon it +the food she had brought, and then started out to find some flowers for +decorations. When Peter came upon the scene he found Linda, flushed and +brilliant eyed, holding before him a big bouquet of alder bloom, the +last of the lilacs she had found in a cool, shaded place, pink filaree, +blue lupin, and white mahogany panicles. “Peter,” she cried. “you can't +guess what I have been doing!” + +Peter glanced at the flowers. + +“Isn't it obvious?” he inquired. + +“No, it isn't,” said Linda, “because I am capable of two processes at +once. The work of my hands is visible; with it I am going to decorate +your table. You won't have to go down to the restaurant for your supper +tonight because I have brought my supper up to share with you, and after +we finish, you're going to read me your article as you have rewritten +it. I am going to decorate it and we are going to make a hit with it +that will be at least a start on the road to greater fame. What you see +is material. You can pick it up, smell it, admire it and eat it. But +what I have truly been doing is setting Spanish iris for yards down one +side of the bed of your stream. When I left it was a foot and a half +high Peter, and every blue that the sky ever knew in its loveliest +moments, and a yellow that is the concentrated essence of the best gold +from the heart of California. Oh, Peter, there is enchantment in the way +I set it. There are irregular deep beds, and there are straggly places +where there are only one or two in a ragged streak, and then it runs +along the edge in a fringy rim, and then it stretches out in a marshy +place that is going to have some other wild things, arrowheads, and +orchids, and maybe a bunch of paint brush on a high, dry spot near by. I +wish you could see it!” + +Peter looked at Linda reflectively and then he told her that he could +see it. He fold her that he adored it, that he was crazy about her +straggly continuity and her fringy border, but there was not one word of +truth in what he said, because what he saw was a slender thing, willowy, +graceful; roughened wavy black hair hanging half her length in heavy +braids, dark eyes and bright cheeks, a vivid red line of mouth, and +a bright brown line of freckles bridging a prominent and aristocratic +nose. What he was seeing was a soul, a young thing, a thing he coveted +with every nerve and fiber of his being. And while he glibly humored her +in her vision of decorating his brook, in his own consciousness he was +saying to himself: “Is there any reason why I should not try for her?” + +And then he answered himself. “There is no reason in your life. There +is nothing ugly that could offend her or hurt her. The reason, the real +reason, probably lies in the fact that if she were thinking of caring +for anyone it would be for that attractive young schoolmate she brought +up here for me to exercise my wits upon. It is very likely that she +regards me in the light of a grandfatherly person to whom she can come +with her joys or her problems, as frankly as she has now.” + +So Peter asked if the irises crossed the brook and ran down both sides. +Linda sat on a packing case and concentrated on the iris, and finally +she announced that they did. She informed him that his place was going +to be natural, that Nature evolved things in her own way. She did not +grow irises down one side of a brook and arrowheads down the other. +They waded across and flew across and visited back and forth, riding +the water or the wind or the down of a bee or the tail of a cow. As she +served the supper she had brought she very gravely informed him that +there would be iris on both sides of his brook, and cress and miners' +lettuce under the bridge; and she knew exactly where the wild clematis +grew that would whiten his embankment after his workmen had extracted +the last root of poison oak. + +“It may not scorch you, Peter,” she said gravely, “but you must look out +for the Missus and the little things. I haven't definitely decided on +her yet, but she looks a good deal like Mary Louise Whiting to mc. I saw +her the other day. She came to school after Donald. I liked her looks +so well that I said to myself: 'Everybody talks about how fine she is. +I shouldn't wonder if I had better save her for Peter'; but if I decide +to, you should act that poison stuff out, because it's sure as shooting +to attack any one with the soft, delicate skin that goes with a golden +head.” + +“Oh, let's leave it in,” said Peter, “and dispense with the golden head. +By the time you get that stream planted as you're planning, I'll have +become so accustomed to a dark head bobbing up and down beside it that +I won't take kindly to a sorrel top.” “That is positively sacrilegious,” + said Linda, lifting her hands to her rough black hair. “Never in my life +saw anything lovelier than the rich gold on Louise Whiting's bare head +as she bent to release her brakes and start her car. A black head looks +like a cinder bed beside it; and only think what a sunburst it will be +when Mary Louise kneels down beside the iris.” + +When they had finished their supper Linda gathered up the remnants and +put them in the car, then she laid a notebook and pencil on the table. + +“Now I want to hear that article,” she said. “I knew you would do it +over the minute I was gone, and I knew you would keep it to read to me +before you sent it.” + +“Hm,” said Peter. “Is it second sight or psychoanalysis or telepathy, or +what?” + +“Mostly 'what',” laughed Linda. “I merely knew. The workmen are gone and +everything is quiet now, Peter. Begin. I am crazy to get the particular +angle from which you 'make the world safe for democracy.' John used to +call our attention to your articles during the war. He said we had +not sent another man to France who could write as humanely and as +interestingly as you did. I wish I had kept those articles; because I +didn't get anything from them to compare with what I can get since I +have a slight acquaintance with the procession that marches around +your mouth. Peter, you will have to watch that mouth of yours. It's an +awfully betraying feature. So long as it's occupied with politics +and the fads and the foibles and the sins and the foolishness and the +extravagances of humanity, it's all very well. But if you ever get +in trouble or if ever your heart hurts, or you get mad enough to kill +somebody, that mouth of yours is going to be a most awfully revealing +feature, Peter. You will have hard work to settle it down into +hard-and-fast noncommittal lines.” + +Peter looked at the girl steadily. + +“Have you specialized on my mouth?” he asked. + +“Huh-umph!” said Linda, shaking her head vigorously. “When I specialize I +use a pin and a microscope and go right to the root of matters as I was +taught. This is superficial. I am extemporizing now.” + +“Well, if this is extemporizing,” said Peter, “God help my soul if you +ever go at me with a pin and a microscope.” + +“Oh, but I won't!” cried Linda. “It wouldn't be kind to pin your friends +on a setting board and use a microscope on them. You might see things +that were strictly private. You might see things they wouldn't want you +to see. They might not be your friends any more if you did that. When +I make a friend I just take him on trust like I did Donald. You're my +friend, aren't you, Peter?” + +“Yes, Linda,” said Peter soberly. “Put me to any test you can think of +if you want proof.” + +“But I don't believe in PROVING friends, either,” said Linda. “I believe +in nurturing them. I would set a friend in my garden and water his feet +and turn the sunshine on him and tell him to stay there and grow. I +might fertilize him, I might prune him, and I might use insecticide on +him. I might spray him with rather stringent solutions, but I give you +my word I would not test him. If he flourished under my care I would +know it, and if he did not I would know it, and that would be all I +would want to know. I have watched Daddy search for the seat of +nervous disorders, and sometimes he had to probe very deep to find what +developed nerves unduly but he didn't ever do any picking and raveling +and fringing at the soul of a human being merely for the sake of finding +out what it was made of; and everyone says I am like him.” + +“I wish I might have known him,” said Peter. + +“Don't I wish it!” said Linda. “Now then, Peter, go ahead. Read your +article.” + +Peter opened a packing case, picked out a sheaf of papers, and sitting +opposite Linda, began to read. He was dumbfounded to find that he, a man +who had read and talked extemporaneously before great bodies of learned +men, should have cold feet and shaking hands and a hammering heart +because he was trying to read an article on America for Americans before +a high-school Junior. But presently, as the theme engrossed him, he +forgot the vision of Linda interesting herself in his homemaking, and +saw instead a vision of his country threatened on one side by the red +menace of the Bolshevik, on the other by the yellow menace of the +Jap, and yet on another by the treachery of the Mexican and the slowly +uprising might of the black man, and presently he was thundering his +best-considered arguments at Linda until she imperceptibly drew back +from him on the packing case, and with parted lips and wide eyes she +listened in utter absorption. She gazed at a transformed Peter with +aroused eyes and a white light of patriotism on his forehead, and a +conception even keener than anything that the war had brought her young +soul was burning in her heart of what a man means when he tries to +express his feeling concerning the land of his birth. Presently, without +realizing what she was doing, she reached for her pad and pencils and +rapidly began sketching a stretch of peaceful countryside over which +a coming storm of gigantic proportions was gathering. Fired by Peter's +article, the touch of genius in Linda's soul became creative and she +fashioned huge storm clouds wind driven, that floated in such a manner +as to bring the merest suggestion of menacing faces, black faces, +yellow faces, brown faces, and under the flash of lightning, just at the +obscuring of the sun, a huge, evil, leering red face. She swept a stroke +across her sheet and below this she began again, sketching the same +stretch of country she had pictured above, strolling in cultivated +fields, dotting it with white cities, connecting it with smooth +roadways, sweeping the sky with giant planes. At one side, winging in +from the glow of morning, she drew in the strong-winged flight of a +flock of sea swallows, peacefully homing toward the far-distant ocean. +She was utterly unaware when Peter stopped reading. Absorbed, she bent +over her work. When she had finished she looked up. + +“Now I'll take this home,” she said. “I can't do well on color +with pencils. You hold that article till I have time to put this on +water-color paper and touch it up a bit here and there, and I believe it +will be worthy of starting and closing your article.” + +She pushed the sketches toward him. + +“You little wonder!” said Peter softly. + +“Yes, 'little' is good,” scoffed Linda, rising to very nearly his height +and reaching for the lunch basket. “'Little' is good, Peter. If I could +do what I like to myself I would get in some kind of a press and squash +down about seven inches.” + +“Oh, Lord!” said Peter. “Forget it. What's the difference what the +inches of your body are so long as your brain has a stature worthy of +mention?” + +“Good-bye!” said Linda. “On the strength of that I'll jazz that sketch +all up, bluey and red-purple and jade-green. I'll make it as glorious as +a Catalina sunset.” + +As she swung the car around the sharp curve at the boulders she looked +back and laughingly waved her hand at Peter, and Peter experienced a +wild desire to shriek lest she lose control of the car and plunge down +the steep incline. A second later, when he saw her securely on the road +below, he smiled to himself. + +“Proves one thing,” he said conclusively. “She is over the horrors. +She is driving unconsciously. Thank God she knew that curve so well she +could look the other way and drive it mentally.” + + + +CHAPTER XIX. The Official Bug-Catcher + +Not a mile below the exit from Peter's grounds, Linda perceived a +heavily laden person toiling down the roadway before her and when she +ran her car abreast and stopped it, Henry Anderson looked up at her with +joyful face. + +“Sorry I can't uncover, fair lady,” he said, “but you see I am very much +otherwise engaged.” + +What Linda saw was a tired, disheveled man standing in the roadway +beside her car, under each arm a boulder the size of her head, one +almost jet-black, shot through with lines of white and flying figures +of white crossing between these bands that almost reminded one of winged +dancers. The other was a combination stone made up of matrix thickly +imbedded with pebbles of brown, green, pink, and dull blue. + +“For pity's sake!” said Linda. “Where are you going and why are you +personally demonstrating a new method of transporting rock?” + +“I am on my way down Lilac Valley to the residence of a friend of mine,” + said Henry Anderson. “I heard her say the other day that she saved +every peculiarly marked boulder she could find to preserve coolness and +moisture in her fern bed.” + +Linda leaned over and opened the car door. + +“All well and good,” she said; “but why in the cause of reason didn't +you leave them at Peter's and bring them down in his car?” + +Henry Anderson laid the stones in the bottom of the car, stepped in and +closed the door behind him. He drew a handkerchief from his pocket and +wiped his perspiring face and soiled hands. + +“I had two sufficient personal reasons,” he said. “One was that the car +at our place is Peter Morrison's car, not mine; and the other was that +it's none of anybody's business but my own if I choose to 'say it' with +stones.” + +Linda started the car, being liberal with gas--so liberal that it was +only a few minutes till Henry Anderson protested. + +“This isn't the speedway,” he said. “What's your hurry?” + +“Two reasons seem to be all that are allowed for things at the present +minute,” answered Linda. “One of mine is that you can't drive this beast +slow, and the other is that my workroom is piled high with things I +should be doing. I have two sketches I must complete while I am in the +mood, and I have had a great big letter from my friend, Marian Thorne, +today that I want to answer before I go to bed tonight.” + +“In other words,” said Henry Anderson bluntly, “you want me to +understand that when I have reached your place and dumped these stones I +can beat it; you have no further use for me.” + +“You said that,” retorted Linda. + +“And who ever heard of such a thing,” said Henry, “as a young woman +sending away a person of my numerous charms and attractions in order to +work, or to write a letter to another woman?” + +“But you're not taking into consideration,” said Linda, “that I must +work, and I scarcely know you, while I have known Marian ever since I +was four years old and she is my best friend.” + +“Well, she has no advantage over me,” said Henry instantly, “because I +have known you quite as long as Peter Morrison has at least, and I'm +your official bug-catcher.” + +“I had almost forgotten about the bugs,” said Linda. + +“Well, don't for a minute think I am going to give you an opportunity to +forget,” said Henry Anderson. + +He reached across and laid his hand over Linda's on the steering gear. +Linda said nothing, neither did she move. She merely added more gas and +put the Bear Cat forward at a dizzy whirl. Henry laughed. + +“That's all right, my beauty,” he said. “Don't you think for a minute +that I can't ride as fast as you can drive.” + +A dull red mottled Linda's cheeks. As quickly as it could be done she +brought the Bear Cat to a full stop. Then she turned and looked at Henry +Anderson. The expression in her eyes was disconcerting even to that +cheeky young individual--he had not borne her gaze a second until he +removed his hand. + +“Thanks,” said Linda in a dry drawl. “And you will add to my obligation +if in the future you will remember not to deal in assumptions. I am not +your 'beauty,' and I'm not anyone's beauty; while the only thing in this +world that I am interested in at present is to get the best education I +can and at the same time carry on work that I love to do. I have a year +to finish my course in the high school and when I finish I will only +have a good beginning for whatever I decide to study next.” + +“That's nothing,” said the irrepressible Henry. “It will take me two +years to catch a sufficient number of gold bugs to be really serious, +but there wouldn't be any harm in having a mutual understanding and +something definite to work for, and then we might be able, you know, to +cut out some of that year of high-school grinding. If the plans I have +submitted in the Nicholson and Snow contest should just happen to be the +prize winners, that would put matters in such a shape for young Henry +that he could devote himself to crickets and tumble-bugs at once.” + +“Don't you think,” said Linda quietly, “that you would better forget +that silly jesting and concentrate the best of your brains on improving +your plans for Peter Morrison's house?” + +“Why, surely I will if that's what you command me to do,” said Henry, +purposely misunderstanding her. + +“You haven't mentioned before,” said Linda, “that you had submitted +plans in that San Francisco contest.” + +“All done and gone,” said Henry Anderson lightly. “I had an inspiration +one day and I saw a way to improve a house with comforts and +conveniences I never had thought of before. I was enthusiastic over the +production when I got it on paper and figured it. It's exactly the house +that I am going to build for Peter, and when I've cut my eye teeth on it +I am going to correct everything possible and build it in perfection for +you.” + +“Look here,” said Linda soberly, “I'm not accustomed to this sort of +talk. I don't care for it. If you want to preserve even the semblance of +friendship with me you must stop it, and get to impersonal matters and +stay there.” + +“All right,” he agreed instantly, “but if you don't like my line of +talk, you're the first girl I ever met that didn't.” + +“You have my sympathy,” said Linda gravely. “You have been extremely +unfortunate.” + +Then she started the Bear Cat, and again running at undue speed she +reached her wild-flower garden. Henry Anderson placed the stones as she +directed and waited for an invitation to come in, but the invitation +was not given. Linda thanked him for the stones. She told him that in +combination with a few remaining from the mantel they would make all she +would require, and excusing herself she drove to the garage. When she +came in she found the irrepressible Henry sitting on the back steps +explaining to Katy the strenuous time he had had finding and carrying +down the stones they had brought. Katy had a plate of refreshments ready +to hand him when Linda laughingly passed them and went to her room. + +When she had finished her letter to Marian she took a sheet of drawing +paper, and in her most attractive lettering sketched in the heading, “A +Palate Teaser,” which was a direct quotation from Katy. Below she wrote: + +You will find Tunas in the cacti thickets of any desert, but if you are +so fortunate as to be able to reach specimens which were brought from +Mexico and set as hedges around the gardens of the old missions, you +will find there the material for this salad in its most luscious form. +Naturally it can be made from either Opuntia Fiscus-Indica or Opuntia +Tuna, but a combination of these two gives the salad an exquisite +appearance and a tiny touch more delicious flavor, because Tuna, which +is red, has to my taste a trifle richer and fuller flavor than Indica, +which is yellow. Both fruits taste more like the best well-ripened +watermelon than any other I recall. + +Bring down the Tunas with a fishing rod or a long pole with a nail in +the end. With anything save your fingers roll them in the sand or in +tufts of grass to remove the spines. Slice off either end, score the +skin down one side, press lightly, and a lush globule of pale gold or +rosy red fruit larger than a hen's egg lies before you. With a sharp +knife, beginning with a layer of red and ending with one of yellow, +slice the fruits thinly, stopping to shake out the seeds as you work. In +case you live in San Diego County or farther south, where it is possible +to secure the scarlet berries of the Strawberry Cactus--it is the +Mammillaria Goodridgei species that you should use--a beautiful +decoration for finishing your salad can be made from the red +strawberries of these. If you live too far north to find these, you +may send your salad to the table beautifully decorated by cutting fancy +figures from the red Tuna, or by slicing it lengthwise into oblong +pieces and weaving them into a decoration over the yellow background. + +For your dressing use the juice of a lemon mixed with that of an +orange, sweetened to taste, into which you work, a drop at a time, four +tablespoons of the best Palermo olive oil. If the salad is large more +oil and more juice should be used. + +To get the full deliciousness of this salad, the fruit must have been +on ice, and the dressing made in a bowl imbedded in cracked ice, so that +when ready to blend both are ice-cold, and must be served immediately. + +Gigantic specimens of fruit-bearing Cacti can be found all over the +Sunland Desert near to the city, but they are not possessed of the full +flavor of the cultivated old mission growths, so that it is well worth +your while to make a trip to the nearest of these for the fruit with +which to prepare this salad. And if, as you gather it, you should see +a vision of a white head, a thin, ascetic, old face, a lean figure +trailing a brown robe, slender white hands clasping a heavy cross; +if you should hear the music of worship ascending from the throats of +Benedictine fathers leading a clamoring choir of the blended voices of +Spaniard, Mexican, and Indian, combining with the music of the bells and +the songs of the mocking birds, nest making among the Tunas, it will be +good for your soul in the line of purging it from selfishness, since in +this day we are not asked to give all of life to the service of others, +only a reasonable part of it. + +Linda read this over, working in changes here and there, then she picked +up her pencil and across the top of her sheet indicated an open sky +with scarcely a hint of cloud. Across the bottom she outlined a bit +of Sunland Desert she well remembered, in the foreground a bed of +flat-leaved nopal, flowering red and yellow, the dark red prickly pears, +edible, being a near relative of the fruits she had used in her salad. +After giving the prickly pear the place of honor to the left, in higher +growth she worked in the slender, cylindrical, jointed stems of the +Cholla, shading the flowers a paler, greenish yellow. On the right, +balancing the Cholla, she drew the oval, cylindrical columns of the +hedgehog cactus, and the color touch of the big magenta flowers blended +exquisitely with the color she already had used. At the left, the length +of her page, she drew a gigantic specimen of Opuntia Tuna, covered with +flowers, and well-developed specimens of the pears whose coloring ran +into the shades of the hedgehog cactus. + +She was putting away her working materials when she heard steps and +voices on the stairs, so she knew that Eileen and John Gilman were +coming. She did not in the least want them, yet she could think of no +excuse for refusing them admission that would not seem ungracious. She +hurried to the wall, snatched down the paintings for Peter Morrison, and +looked around to see how she could dispose of them. She ended by laying +one of them in a large drawer which she pushed shut and locked. The +other she placed inside a case in the wall which formerly had been used +for billiard cues. At their second tap she opened the door. Eileen +was not at her best. There was a worried look across her eyes, a +restlessness visible in her movements, but Gilman was radiant. + +“What do you think, Linda?” he cried. “Eileen has just named the day!” + +“I did no such thing,” broke in Eileen. + +“Your pardon, fair lady, you did not,” said Gilman. “That was merely a +figure of speech. I meant named the month. She has definitely promised +in October, and I may begin to hunt a location and plan a home for us. I +want the congratulations of my dear friend and my dearer sister.” + +Linda held out her hand and smiled as bravely as she could. + +“I am very glad you are so pleased, John,” she said quietly, “and I hope +that you will be as happy as you deserve to be.” + +“Now exactly what do you mean by that?” he asked. + +“Oh, Linda prides herself on being deep and subtle and conveying hidden +meanings,” said Eileen. “She means what a thousand people will tell you +in the coming months: merely that they hope you will be happy.” + +“Of course,” Linda hastened to corroborate, wishing if possible to avoid +any unpleasantness. + +“You certainly have an attractive workroom here,” said John, “much as I +hate to see it spoiled for billiards.” + +“It's too bad,” said Linda, “that I have spoiled it for you for +billiards. I have also spoiled the outside appearance of the house for +Eileen.” + +“Oh, I don't know,” said John. “I looked at it carefully the other +day as I came up, and I thought your changes enhanced the value of the +property.” + +“I am surely glad to hear that,” said Linda. “Take a look through my +skylight and my new window. Imagine you see the rugs I am going to have +and a few more pieces of furniture when I can afford them; and let me +particularly point out the fireplace that Henry Anderson and your friend +Peter designed and had built for me. Doesn't it add a soul and a heart +to my study?” + +John Gilman walked over and looked at the fireplace critically. He read +the lines aloud, then he turned to Eileen. + +“Why, that is perfectly beautiful,” he said. “Let's duplicate it in our +home.” + +“You bungler!” scoffed Eileen. + +“I think you're right,” said Gilman reflectively, “exactly right. Of +course I would have no business copying Linda's special fireplace where +the same people would see it frequently; and if I had stopped to think a +second, I might have known that you would prefer tiling to field stone.” + +“Linda seems very busy tonight,” said Eileen. “Perhaps we are bothering +her.” + +“Yes,” said John, “we'll go at once. I had to run up to tell our good +news; and I wanted to tell you too, Linda dear, that I think both of us +misjudged Eileen the other day. You know, Linda, you have always dressed +according to your father's ideas, which were so much simpler and plainer +than the manner in which your mother dressed Eileen, that she merely +thought that you wished to continue in his way. She had no objection to +your having any kind of clothes you chose, if only you had confided in +her, and explained to her what you wanted.” + +Linda stood beside her table, one lean hand holding down the letter she +had been writing. She stood very still, but she was powerless to raise +her eyes to the face of either John or Eileen. Above everything she did +not wish to go any further in revealing Eileen to John Gilman. If he +knew what he knew and if he felt satisfied, after what he had seen, with +any explanation that Eileen could trump up to offer, Linda had no desire +to carry the matter further. She had been ashamed of what she already +had done. She had felt angry and dissatisfied with herself, so she stood +before them downcast and silent. + +“And it certainly was a great joke on both of us,” said John jovially, +“what we thought about that box of cigarettes, you know. They were a +prize given by a bridge club at an 'Ambassador' benefit for the Good +Samaritan Hospital. Eileen, the little card shark she is, won it, and +she was keeping it hidden away there to use as a gift for my birthday. +Since we disclosed her plans prematurely, she gave it to me at once, and +I'm having a great time treating all my friends.” + +At that instant Linda experienced a revulsion. Previously she had not +been able to raise her eyes. Now it would have been quite impossible to +avoid looking straight into Eileen's face. But Eileen had no intention +of meeting anyone's gaze at that minute. She was fidgeting with a sheet +of drawing paper. + +“Careful you don't bend that,” cautioned Linda. Then she looked at +John Gilman. He BELIEVED what he was saying; he was happy again. Linda +evolved the best smile she could. + +“How stupid of us not to have guessed!” she said. + +Closing the door behind them, Linda leaned against it and looked up +through the skylight at the creep blue of the night, the low-hung stars. +How long she stood there she did not know. Presently she went to her +chair, picked up her pencil, and slowly began to draw. At first she +scarcely realized what she was doing, then she became absorbed in +her work. Then she reached for her color box and brushes, and shortly +afterward tacked against the wall an extremely clever drawing of a +greatly enlarged wasp. Skillfully she had sketched a face that was +recognizable round the big insect eyes. She had surmounted the face by +a fluff of bejewelled yellow curls, encased the hind legs upon which the +creature stood upright in pink velvet Turkish trousers and put tiny gold +shoes on the feet. She greatly exaggerated the wings into long trails +and made them of green gauze with ruffled edges. All the remainder of +the legs she had transformed into so many braceleted arms, each holding +a tiny fan, or a necklace, a jewel box, or a handkerchief of lace. She +stood before this sketch, studying it for a few minutes, then she walked +over to the table and came back with a big black pencil. Steadying her +hand with a mahl stick rested against the wall, with one short sharp +stroke she drew a needle-pointed stinger, so screened by the delicate +wings that it could not be seen unless you scrutinized the picture +minutely. After that, with careful, interested hands she brought out +Peter Morrison's drawings and replaced them on the wall to dry. + + + +CHAPTER XX. The Cap Sheaf + +Toward the last of the week Linda began to clear the mental decks of her +ship of life in order that she might have Saturday free for her promised +day with Donald. She had decided that they would devote that day to +wave-beaten Laguna. It was a long drive but delightful. It ran over the +old King's Highway between miles of orange and lemon orchards in full +flower, bordered by other miles of roses in their prime. + +Every minute when her mind was not actively occupied with her lessons +or her recipes Linda was dreaming of the King's Highway. Almost +unconsciously she began to chant: + +“All in the golden weather, forth let us ride today, You and I together +on the King's Highway, The blue skies above us, and below the shining +sea; There's many a road to travel, but it's this road for me.” + +You must have ridden this road with an understanding heart and the +arm of God around you to know the exact degree of disappointment that +swelled in Linda's heart when she answered the telephone early Saturday +morning and heard Donald Whiting's strained voice speaking into it. He +was talking breathlessly in eager, boyish fashion. + +“Linda, I am in a garage halfway downtown,” he was saying, “and it looks +to me as if to save my soul I couldn't reach you before noon. I have had +the darnedest luck. Our Jap got sick last week and he sent a new man +to take his place. There wasn't a thing the matter with our car when +I drove it in Friday night. This morning Father wanted to use it on +important business, and it wouldn't run. He ordered me to tinker it +up enough to get it to the shop. I went at it and when it would go, +I started You can imagine the clip I was going, and the thing went to +pieces. I don't know yet how it comes that I saved my skin. I'm pretty +badly knocked out, but I'll get there by noon if it's a possible thing.” + +“Oh, that's all right,” said Linda, fervently hoping that the ache in +her throat would not tincture her voice. + +It was half-past eleven when Donald came. Linda could not bring herself +to give up the sea that day. She found it impossible to drive the King's +Highway. It seemed equally impossible not to look on the face of the +ocean, so she compromised by skirting Santa Monica Bay, and taking the +foothill road she ran it to the north end of the beach drive. When they +had spread their blankets on the sand, finished their lunch and were +resting, Linda began to question Donald about what had happened. She +wanted to know how long Whitings' gardener had been in their employ; +if they knew where he lived and about his family; if they knew who his +friends were, or anything concerning him. She inquired about the man +who had taken his place, and wanted most particularly to know what the +garage men had found the trouble with a car that ran perfectly on +Friday night and broke down in half a dozen different places on Saturday +morning. Finally Donald looked at her, laughingly quizzical. + +“Linda,” he said, “you're no nerve specialist and no naturalist. You're +the cross examiner for the plaintiff. What are you trying to get at? +Make out a case against Yogo Sani?” + +“Of course it's all right,” said Linda, watching a distant pelican turn +head down and catapult into the sea. “It has to be all right, but you +must admit that it looks peculiar. How have you been getting along this +week?” + +Donald waved his hand in the direction of a formation of stone the size +of a small house. + +“Been rolling that to the top of the mountain,” he said lightly. Linda's +eyes narrowed, her face grew speculative. She looked at Donald intently. + +“Is it as difficult as that?” she asked in a lowered voice as if the +surf and the sea chickens might hear. + +“It is just as difficult as that,” said Donald. “While you're talking +about peculiar things, I'll tell you one. In class I came right up +against Oka Sayye on the solution of a theorem in trigonometry. We both +had the answer, the correct answer, but we had arrived at it by widely +different routes, and it was up to me to prove that my line of reasoning +was more lucid, more natural, the inevitable one by which the solution +should be reached. We got so in earnest that I am afraid both of us were +rather tense. I stepped over to his demonstration to point out where I +thought his reasoning was wrong. I got closer to the Jap than I had ever +been before; and by gracious, Linda! scattered, but nevertheless still +there, and visible, I saw a sprinkling of gray hairs just in front of +and over his ears. It caught me unawares, and before I knew what I was +doing, before the professor and the assembled classroom I blurted it +out: 'Say, Oka Sayye, how old are you?' If the Jap had had any way of +killing me, I believe he would have done it. There was a look in his +eyes that was what I would call deadly. It was only a flash and then, +very courteously, putting me in the wrong, of course, he remarked that +he was 'almost ninekleen'; and it struck me from his look and the way he +said it that it was a lie. If he truly was the average age of the rest +of the class there was nothing for him to be angry about. Then I did +take a deliberate survey. From the settled solidity of his frame and the +shape of his hands and the skin of his face and the set of his eyes in +his head, I couldn't see that much youth. I'll bet he's thirty if he's a +day, and I shouldn't be a bit surprised if he has graduated at the most +worthwhile university in Japan, before he ever came to this country to +get his English for nothing.” + +Linda was watching a sea swallow now, and slowly her lean fingers were +gathering handfuls of sand and sifting them into a little pyramid she +was heaping beside her. Again almost under her breath she spoke. + +“Donald, do you really believe that?” she asked. “Is it possible that +mature Jap men are coming here and entering our schools and availing +themselves of the benefits that the taxpayers of California provide for +their children?” + +“Didn't you know it?” asked Donald. “I hadn't thought of it in +connection with Oka Sayye, but I do know cases where mature Japs have +been in grade schools with children under ten.” + +“Oh, Donald!” exclaimed Linda. “If California is permitting that or ever +has permitted it, we're too easy. We deserve to become their prey if we +are so careless.” + +“Why, I know it's true,” said Donald. “I have been in the same classes +with men more than old enough to be my father.” + +“I never was,” said Linda, industriously sifting sand. “I have been +in classes with Japs ever since I have been at school, but it was with +girls and boys of our gardeners and fruit dealers and curio-shop people, +and they were always of my age and entitled to be in school, since our +system includes the education of anybody who happens to be in California +and wants to go to school.” + +“Did my being late spoil any particular plan you had made, Linda?” + +“Yes,” said Linda, “it did.” + +“Oh, I am so sorry!” cried Donald. “I certainly shall try to see that it +doesn't occur again. Could we do it next Saturday?” + +“I am hoping so,” said Linda. + +“I told Dad,” said Donald, “where I wanted to go and what I wanted to +do, and he was awfully sorry but he said it was business and it would +take only a few minutes and he thought I could do it and be on time. If +he had known I would be detained I don't believe he would have asked it +of me. He's a grand old peter, Linda.” + + + +“Yes, I know,” said Linda. “There's not much you can tell me about +peters of the grand sort, the real, true flesh-and-blood, bighearted, +human-being fathers, who will take you to the fields and the woods and +take the time to teach you what God made and how He made it and why +He made it and what we can do with it, and of the fellowship and +brotherhood we can get from Nature by being real kin. The one thing that +I have had that was the biggest thing in all this world was one of these +real fathers.” + +Donald watched as she raised the pyramid higher and higher. + +“Did you tell your father whom you were to go with?” she asked. + +“Sure I did,” said Donald. “Told the whole family at dinner last night. +Told 'em about all the things I was learning, from where to get soap +off the bushes to the best spot for material for wooden legs or +instantaneous relief for snake bite.” + +“What did they say?” Linda inquired laughingly. + +“Unanimously in favour of continuing the course,” he said. “I had +already told Father about you when I asked him for books and any help +that he could give me with Oka Sayye. Since I had mentioned you last +night he told Mother and Louise about that, and they told me to bring +you to the house some time. All of them are crazy to know you. Mother +says she is just wild to know whether a girl who wears boots and +breeches and who knows canyons and the desert and the mountains as you +do can be a feminine and lovable person.” + +“If I told her how many friends I have, she could have speedily decided +whether I am lovable or not,” said Linda; “but I would make an effort to +convince her that I am strictly feminine.” + +“You would convince her of that without making the slightest effort. +You're infinitely more feminine than any other girl I have ever known.” + +“How do you figure that?” asked Linda. + +“Well,” said Donald, “it's a queer thing about you, Linda. I take +any liberty I pretty nearly please with most of the girls I have been +associated with. I tie their shoes and pull their hair--down if I want +to--and hand them round 'most any way the notion takes me, and they just +laugh and take the same liberties with me, which proves that I am pretty +much a girl with them or they are pretty much boys with me. But it +wouldn't occur to me to touch your hair or your shoe lace or the tips of +your fingers; which proves that you're more feminine than any other +girl I know, because if you were not I would be treating you more like +another boy. I thought, the first day we were together, that you were +like a boy, and I said so, and I thought it because you did not tease me +and flirt with me, but since I have come to know you better, you're less +like a boy than any other girl I ever have known.” + +“Don't get psychological, Donald,” said Linda. “Go on with the Jap. I +haven't got an answer yet to what I really want to know. Have you made +the least progress this week? Can you beat him?” + +Donald hesitated, studying over the answer. + +“Beat him at that trig proposition the other day,” he said. “Got an +open commendation before the class. There's not a professor in any of my +classes who isn't 'hep' to what I'm after by this time, and if I would +cajole them a little they would naturally be on my side, especially if +their attention were called to that incident of yesterday; but you said +I have to beat him with my brains, by doing better work than he does; so +about the biggest thing I can honestly tell you is that I have held my +own. I have only been ahead of him once this week, but I haven't failed +in anything that he has accomplished. I have been able to put some +additional touches to some work that he has done for which he used to be +marked A which means your One Hundred. Double A which means your plus +I made in one instance. And you needn't think that Oka Sayye does not +realize what I am up to as well as any of the rest of the class, and you +needn't think that he is not going to give me a run for my brain. All +I've got will be needed before we finish this term.” + +“I see,” said Linda, slowly nodding her head. + +“I wish,” said Donald, “that we had started this thing two years ago, or +better still, four. But of course you were not in the high school four +years ago and there wasn't a girl in my class or among my friends who +cared whether I beat the Jap or not. They greatly preferred that I take +them motoring or to a dance or a picture show or a beach party. You're +the only one except Mother and Louise who ever inspired me to get down +to business.” + +Linda laid her palm on the top of the sand heap and pressed it flat. She +looked at Donald with laughing eyes. + +“Symbolical,” she announced. “That sand was the Jap.” She stretched her +hand toward him. “That was you. Did you see yourself squash him?” + +Donald's laugh was grim. + +“Yes, I saw,” he said. “I wish it were as easy as that.” + +“That was not easy,” said Linda; “make a mental computation of all the +seconds that it took me to erect that pyramid and all the millions of +grains of sand I had to gather.” + +Donald was deeply thoughtful, yet a half smile was playing round his +lips. + +“Of all the queer girls I ever knew, you're the cap sheaf, Linda,” he +said. + +Linda rose slowly, shook the sand from her breeches and stretched out +her hand. + +“Let's hotfoot it down to the African village and see what the movies +are doing that is interesting today,” she proposed. + + + +CHAPTER XXI. Shifting the Responsibility + +On her pillow that night before dropping to almost instantaneous sleep +Linda reflected that if you could not ride the King's Highway, racing +the sands of Santa Monica was a very excellent substitute. It had been +a wonderful day after all. When she had left Donald at the Lilac Valley +end of the car line he had held her hand tight an instant and looked +into her face with the most engaging of clear, boyish smiles. + +“Linda, isn't our friendship the nicest thing that ever happened to us?” + he demanded. + +“Yes,” answered Linda promptly, “quite the nicest. Make your plans for +all day long next Saturday.” + +“I'll be here before the birds are awake,” promised Donald. + +At the close of Monday's sessions, going down the broad walk from the +high school, Donald overtook Linda and in a breathless whisper he said: +“What do you think? I came near Oka Sayye again this morning in trig, +and his hair was as black as jet, dyed to a midnight, charcoal finish, +and I am not right sure that he had not borrowed some girl's lipstick +and rouge pot for the benefit of his lips and cheeks. Positively he's +hectically youthful today. What do you know about that?” + +Then he hurried on to overtake the crowd of boys he had left, Linda's +heart was racing in her breast. + +Turning, she re-entered the school building, and taking a telephone +directory she hunted an address, and then, instead of going to the +car line that took her to Lilac Valley she went to the address she had +looked up. With a pencil she wrote a few lines on a bit of scratch paper +in one of her books. That note opened a door and admitted her to the +presence of a tall, lean, gray-haired man with quick, blue-gray eyes and +lips that seemed capable of being either grave or gay on short notice. +With that perfect ease which Linda had acquired through the young days +of her life in meeting friends of her father, she went to the table +beside which this man was standing and stretched out her hand. + +“Judge Whiting?” she asked. + +“Yes,” said the Judge. + +“I am Linda Strong, the younger daughter of Alexander Strong. I think +you knew my father.” + +“Yes,” said the Judge, “I knew him very well indeed, and I have some +small acquaintance with his daughter through very interesting reports +that my son brings home.” + +“Yes, it is about Donald that I came to see you,” said Linda. + +If she had been watching as her father would have watched, Linda would +have seen the slight uplift of the Judge's figure, the tensing of his +muscles, the narrowing of his eyes in the swift, speculative look he +passed over her from the crown of her bare, roughened black head down +the gold-brown of her dress to her slender, well-shod feet. The last +part of that glance Linda caught. She slightly lifted one of the feet +under inspection, thrust it forward and looked at the Judge with a gay +challenge in her dark eyes. + +“Are you interested in them too?” she asked. + +The Judge was embarrassed. A flush crept into his cheeks. He was +supposed to be master of any emergency that might arise, but one had +arisen in connection with a slip of a schoolgirl that left him wordless. + +“It is very probable,” said Linda, “that if my shoes had been like +most other girls' shoes I wouldn't be here today. I was in the same +schoolroom with your son for three years, and he never saw me or spoke +to me until one day he stopped me to inquire why I wore the kind of +shoes I did. He said he had a battle to wage with me because I tried to +be a law to myself, and he wanted to know why I wasn't like other girls. +And I told him I had a crow to pick with HIM because he had the kind of +brain that would be content to let a Jap beat him in his own school, +in his own language and in his own country; so we made an engagement to +fight to a finish, and it ended by his becoming the only boy friend I +have and the nicest boy friend a girl ever had, I am very sure. That's +why I'm here.” + +Linda lifted her eyes and Judge Whiting looked into them till he saw the +same gold lights in their depths that Peter Morrison had seen. He came +around the table and placed a big leather chair for Linda. Then he went +back and resumed his own. + +“Of course,” said the Judge in his most engaging manner. “I gather from +what Donald has told me that you have a reason for being here, and I +want you to understand that I am intensely interested in anything you +have to say to me. Now tell me why you came.” + +“I came,” said Linda, “because I started something and am afraid of the +possible result. I think very likely if, in retaliation for what Donald +said to me about my hair and my shoes, I had not twitted him about the +use he was making of his brain and done everything in my power to drive +him into competition with Oka Sayye in the hope that a white man would +graduate with the highest honors, he would not have gone into this +competition, which I am now certain has antagonized Oka Sayye.” + +Linda folded her slim hands on the table and leaned forward. + +“Judge Whiting,” she said earnestly, “I know very little about men. The +most I know was what I learned about my father and the men with whom he +occasionally hunted and fished. They were all such fine men that I must +have grown up thinking that every man was very like them, but one day I +came in direct contact with the Jap that Donald is trying to beat, and +the thing I saw in his face put fear into my heart and it has been there +ever since. I have almost an unreasoning fear of that Jap, not because +he has said anything or done anything. It's just instinctive. I may be +wholly wrong in having come to you and in taking up your time, but there +are two things I wanted to tell you. I could have told Donald, but if +I did and his mind went off at a tangent thinking of these things he +wouldn't be nearly so likely to be in condition to give his best thought +to his studies. If I really made him see what I think I have seen, +and fear what I know I fear, he might fail where I would give almost +anything to see him succeed; so I thought I would come to you and tell +you about it and ask you please to think it over, and to take extra care +of him, because I really believe that he may be in danger; and if he is +I never shall be able to rid myself of a sense of responsibility.” + +“I see,” said Judge Whiting. “Now tell me, just as explicitly as you +have told me this, exactly what it is that you fear.” + +“Last Saturday,” said Linda, “Donald told me that while standing at the +board beside Oka Sayye, demonstrating a theorem, he noticed that there +were gray hairs above the Jap's ears, and he bluntly asked him, before +the professor and the class, how old he was. In telling me, he said he +had the feeling that if the Jap could have done so in that instant, he +would have killed him. He said he was nineteen, but Donald says from the +matured lines of his body, from his hands and his face and his hair, +he is certain that he is thirty or more, and he thinks it very probable +that he may have graduated at home before he came here to get his +English for nothing from our public schools. I never before had the fact +called to my attention that this was being done, but Donald told me that +he had been in classes with matured men when he was less than ten years +of age. That is not fair, Judge Whiting; it is not right. There should +be an age specified above which people may not be allowed to attend +public school.” + +“I quite agree with you,” said the Judge. “That has been done in the +grades, but there is nothing fair in bringing a boy under twenty in +competition with a man graduated from the institutions of another +country, even in the high schools. If this be the case--” + +“You can be certain that it is,” said Linda, “because Donald whispered +to me as he passed me half an hour ago, coming from the school building, +that TODAY Oka Sayye's hair is a uniform, shining black, and he +also thought that he had used a lipstick and rouge in an effort at +rejuvenation. Do you think, from your knowledge of Donald, that he would +imagine that?” + +“No,” said Judge Whiting, “I don't think such a thing would occur to him +unless he saw it.” + +“Neither do I,” said Linda. “From the short acquaintance I have with him +I should not call him at all imaginative, but he is extremely quick and +wonderfully retentive. You have to show him but once from which cactus +he can get Victrola needles and fishing hooks, or where to find material +for wooden legs.” + +The Judge laughed. “Doesn't prove much,” he said. “You wouldn't have +to show me that more than once either. If anyone were giving me an +intensive course on such interesting subjects, I would guarantee to +remember, even at my age.” + +Linda nodded in acquiescence. “Then you can regard it as quite certain,” + she said, “that Oka Sayye is making up in an effort to appear younger +than he is which means that he doesn't want his right questioned to be +in our schools, to absorb the things that we are taught, to learn our +language, our government, our institutions, our ideals, our approximate +strength and our only-too-apparent weakness.” + +The Judge leaned forward and waited attentively. + +“The other matter,” said Linda, “was relative to Saturday. There may not +be a thing in it, but sometimes a woman's intuition proves truer than +what a man thinks he sees and knows. I haven't SEEN a thing, and I don't +KNOW a thing, but I don't believe your gardener was sick last week. +I believe he had a dirty job he wanted done and preferred to save his +position and avoid risks by getting some other Jap who had no family +and no interests here, to do it for him. I don't BELIEVE that your car, +having run all right Friday night, was shot to pieces Saturday morning +so that Donald went smash with it in a manner that might very easily +have killed him, or sent him to the hospital for months, while Oka Sayye +carried off the honors without competition I want to ask you to find out +whether your regular gardener truly was ill, whether he has a family and +interests to protect here, or whether he is a man who could disappear in +a night as Japs who have leased land and have families cannot. I want +to know about the man who took your gardener's place, and I want the man +who is repairing your car interviewed very carefully as to what he found +the trouble with it.” + +Linda paused. Judge Whiting sat in deep thought, then he looked at +Linda. + +“I see,” he said at last. “Thank you very much for coming to me. All +these things and anything that develops from them shall be handled +carefully. Of course you know that Donald is my only son and you can +realize what he is to me and to his mother and sister.” + +“It is because I do realize that,” said Linda, “that I am here. I +appreciate his friendship, but it is not for my own interests that I am +asking to have him taken care of while he wages his mental war with this +Jap. I want Donald to have the victory, but I want it to be a victory +that will be an inspiration to any boy of white blood among any of our +allies or among peoples who should be our allies. There's a showdown +coming between the white race and a mighty aggregation of colored +peoples one of these days, and if the white man doesn't realize pretty +soon that his supremacy is not only going to be contested but may be +lost, it just simply will be lost; that is all there is to it.” + +The Judge was studying deeply now. Finally he said: “Young lady, I +greatly appreciate your coming to me. There may be NOTHING in what you +fear. It MIGHT be a matter of national importance. In any event, it +shows that your heart is in the right place. May Mrs. Whiting and I pay +you a visit some day soon in your home?” + +“Of course,” said Linda simply. “I told Donald to bring his mother the +first time he came, but he said he did not need to be chaperoned when he +came to see me, because my father's name was a guarantee to his mother +that my home would be a proper place for him to visit.” + +“I wonder how many of his other girl friends invited him to bring his +mother to see them,” said the Judge. + +“Oh, he probably grew up with the other girls and was acquainted with +them from tiny things,” said Linda. + +“Very likely,” conceded the Judge. “I think, after all, I would rather +have an invitation to make one of those trips with you to the desert or +the mountains. Is there anything else as interesting as fish hooks and +Victrola needles and wooden legs to be learned?” + +“Oh, yes,” said Linda, leaning farther forward, a lovely color sweeping +up into her cheeks, her eyes a-shine. She had missed the fact that the +Judge was jesting. She had thought him in sober, scientific earnest. + +“It's an awfully nice thing if you dig a plant or soil your hands in +hunting, or anything like that, to know that there are four or five +different kinds of vegetable soap where you can easily reach them, if +you know them. If you lose your way or have a long tramp, it's good to +know which plants will give you drink and where they are. And if you're +short of implements, you might at any time need a mescal stick, or an +arrow shaft or an arrow, even. If Donald were lost now, he could keep +alive for days, because he would know what wood would make him a bow and +how he could take amole fiber and braid a bow string and where he could +make arrows and arrow points so that he could shoot game for food. I've +taught him to make a number of snares, and he knows where to find and +how to cook his greens and potatoes and onions and where to find his +pickles and how to make lemonade and tea, and what to use for snake +bite. It's been such fun, Judge Whiting, and he has been so interested.” + +“Yes, I should think he would be,” said the Judge. “I am interested +myself. If you would take an old boy like me on a few of those trips, I +would be immensely pleased.” + +“You'd like brigand beefsteak,” suggested Linda, “and you'd like cress +salad, and I am sure you'd like creamed yucca.” + +“Hm,” said the Judge. “Sounds to me like Jane Meredith.” + +Linda suddenly sat straight. A dazed expression crossed her face. +Presently she recovered. + +“Will you kindly tell me,” she said, “what a great criminal judge knows +about Jane Meredith?” + +“Why, I hear my wife and daughter talking about her,” said the Judge. + +“I wonder,” said Linda, “if a judge hears so many secrets that he +forgets what a secret is and couldn't possibly keep one to save his +life.” + +“On the other hand,” said Judge Whiting, “a judge hears so many secrets +that he learns to be a very secretive person himself, and if a young +lady just your size and so like you in every way as to be you, told me +anything and told me that it was a secret, I would guarantee to carry it +with me to my grave, if I said I would.” + +One of Linda's special laughs floated out of the windows. Her right hand +slipped across the table toward the Judge. + +“Cross your heart and body?” she challenged. + +The Judge took the hand she offered in both of his own. + +“On my soul,” he said, “I swear it.” + +“All right,” bubbled Linda. “Judge Whiting, allow me to present to +you Jane Meredith, the author and originator of the Aboriginal Cookery +articles now running in Everybody's Home.” + +Linda stood up as she made the presentation and the Judge arose with +her. When she bowed her dark head before him the Judge bowed equally as +low, then he took the hand he held and pressed it against his lips. + +“I am not surprised,” he said. “I am honored, deeply honored, and I am +delighted. For a high school girl that is a splendid achievement.” + +“But you realize, of course,” said Linda, “that it is vicarious. I +really haven't done anything. I am just passing on to the world what +Alexander Strong found it interesting to teach his daughter, because he +hadn't a son.” + +“I certainly am fortunate that my son is getting the benefit of this,” + said Judge Whiting earnestly. “There are girls who make my old-fashioned +soul shudder, but I shall rest in great comfort whenever I know that my +boy is with you.” + +“Sure!” laughed Linda. “I'm not vamping him. I don't know the first +principles. We're not doing a thing worse than sucking 'hunters' rock +leek' or roasting Indian potatoes or fishing for trout with cactus +spines. I have had such a lovely time I don't believe that I'll +apologize for coming. But you won't waste a minute in making sure about +Oka Sayye?” + +“I won't waste a minute,” said the Judge. + + + +CHAPTER XXII. The End of Marian's Contest + +Coming from school a few days later on an evening when she had been +detained, Linda found a radiant Katy awaiting her. + +“What's up, old dear?” cried Linda. “You seem positively illumined.” + +“So be,” said Katy. “It's a good time I'm havin'. In the first place the +previous boss of this place ain't nowise so bossy as sue used to be, an' +livin' with her is a dale aisier. An' then, when Miss Eileen is around +these days, she is beginning to see things, and she is just black with +jealousy of ye. Something funny happened here the afternoon, an' she +was home for once an' got the full benefit of it. I was swapin' the aist +walk, but I know she was inside the window an' I know she heard. First, +comes a great big loaded automobile drivin' up, and stopped in front +with a flourish an' out hops as nice an' nate a lookin' lad as ever you +clapped your eyes on, an' up he comes to me an' off goes his hat with a +swape, an' he hands me that bundle an' he says: 'Here's something Miss +Linda is wantin' bad for her wild garden.'” + +Katy handed Linda a bundle of newspaper, inside which, wrapped in a +man's handkerchief, she found several plants, carefully lifted, the +roots properly balled, the heads erect, crisp, although in full flower. + +“Oh, Katy!” cried Linda. “Look, it's Gallito, 'little rooster'!” “Now +ain't them jist yellow violets?” asked Katy dubiously. + +“No,” said Linda, “they are not. They are quite a bit rarer. They are +really a wild pansy. Bring water, Katy, and help me.” + +“But I've something else for ye,” said Katy. + +“I don't care what you have,” answered Linda. “I am just compelled to +park these little roosters at once.” + +“What makes ye call them that ungodly name?” asked Katy. + +“Nothing ungodly about it,” answered Linda. “It's funny. Gallito is the +Spanish name for these violets, and it means 'little rooster.'” + +Linda set the violets as carefully as they had been lifted and rinsed +her hands at the hydrant. + +“Now bring on the remainder of the exhibit,” she ordered. + +“It's there on the top of the rock pile, which you notice has incrased +since ye last saw it.” + +“So it has!” said Linda. “So it has! And beautifully colored specimens +those are too. My fern bed will lift up its voice and rejoice in them. +And rocks mean Henry Anderson. The box I do not understand.” + +Linda picked it up, untied the string, and slipped off the wrapping. +Katy stared in wide-mouthed amazement. + +“I was just tickled over that because Miss Eileen saw a good-looking and +capable young man leave a second package, right on the heels of young +Whiting,” she said. “Whatever have ye got, lambie? What does that mean?” + +Linda held up a beautiful box of glass, inside of which could be seen +swarming specimens of every bug, beetle, insect, and worm that Henry +Anderson had been able to collect in Heaven only knew what hours of +search. Linda opened the box. The winged creatures flew, the bettles +tumbled, the worms went over the top. She set it on the ground and +laughed to exhaustion. Her eyes were wet as she looked up at Katy. + +“That first night Henry Anderson and Peter Morrison were here to dinner, +Katy,” she said, “Anderson made a joke about being my bug-catcher when +I built my home nest, and several times since he has tried to be silly +about it, but the last time I told him it was foolishness to which I +would listen no more, so instead of talking, he has taken this way of +telling me that he is fairly expert as a bug-catcher. Really, it is +awfully funny, Katy.” + +Katy was sober. She showed no appreciation of the fun. + +“Ye know, lambie,” she said, her hands on her hips, her elbows +wide-spread, her jaws argumentative, “I've done some blarneying with +that lad, an' I've fed him some, because he was doin' things that would +help an' please ye, but now I'm tellin' ye, just like I'll be tellin' ye +till I die, I ain't STRONG for him. If ever the day comes when ye ask me +to take on that Whiting kid for me boss, I'll bow my head an' I'll fly +at his bidding, because he is real, he's goin' to come out a man lots +like your pa, or hisn. An' if ever the day comes when ye will be telling +me ye want me to serve Pater Morrison, I'll well nigh get on my knees +to him. I think he'd be the closest we'd ever come to gettin' the master +back. But I couldn't say I'd ever take to Anderson. They's something +about him, I can't just say what, but he puts me back up amazin'.” + +“Don't worry, ancient custodian of the family,” said Linda. “That same +something in Henry Anderson that antagonizes you, affects me in even +stronger degree. You must not get the foolish notion that any man has a +speculative eye on me, because it is not true. Donald Whiting is only a +boy friend, treating me as a brother would, and Peter Morrison is much +too sophisticated and mature to pay any serious attention to a girl +with a year more high school before her. I want to be decent to Henry +Anderson, because he is Peter's architect, and I'm deeply interested in +Peter's house and the lady who will live in it. Sometimes I hope it will +be Donald's sister, Mary Louise. Anyway, I am going to get acquainted +with her and make it my business to see that she and Peter get their +chance to know each other well. My job for Peter is to help run his +brook at the proper angle, build his bridge, engineer his road, and +plant his grounds; so don't be dreaming any foolish dreams, Katy.” + +Katy folded her arms, tilted her chin at an unusually aspiring angle, +and deliberately sniffed. + +“Don't ye be lettin' yourself belave your own foolishness,” she said. “I +ain't done with me exhibit yet. On the hall table ye will find a package +from the Pater Morrison man that Miss Eileen had the joy of takin' +in and layin' aside for ye, an atop of it rists a big letter that I'm +thinkin' might mean Miss Marian.” + +“Oh,” cried Linda. “Why are you wasting all this time? If there is a +letter from Marian it may mean that the competition is decided; but if +it is, she loses, because she was to telegraph if she won.” + +Linda rushed into the house and carried her belongings to her workroom. +She dropped them on the table and looked at them. + +“I'll get you off my mind first,” she said to the Morrison package, +which enclosed a new article entitled “How to Grow Good Citizens.” With +it was a scrawled line, “I'm leaving the head and heels of the future to +you.” + +“How fine!” exulted Linda. “He must have liked the head and tail pieces +I drew for his other article, so he wants the same for this, and if he +is well paid for his article, maybe in time, after I've settled for my +hearth motto, he will pay me something for my work. Gal-lum-shus!” + +As she opened the letter from Marian she slowly shook her head. + +“Drat the luck,” she muttered, “no good news here.” + +Slowly and absorbedly she read: + +DEAREST LINDA: + +No telegram to send. I grazed the first prize and missed the second +because Henry Anderson wins with plans so like mine that they are +practically duplicates. I have not seen the winning plans. Mr. Snow told +me as gently as he could that the judges had ruled me out entirely. The +winning plans are practically a reversal of mine, more professionally +drawn, and no doubt the specifications are far ahead of mine, as these +are my weak spot, although I have worked all day and far into the night +on the mathematics of house building. Mr. Snow was very kind, and +terribly cut up about it. I made what I hope was a brave fight, I did so +believe in those plans that I am afraid to say just how greatly +disappointed I am. All I can do is to go to work again and try to find +out how to better my best, which I surely put into the plans I +submitted. I can't see how Henry Anderson came to hit upon some of my +personal designs for comforts and conveniences. I had hoped that no man +would think of my especial kitchen plans. I rather fancied myself as a +benefactor to my sex, an emancipator from drudgery, as it were. I had a +concealed feeling that it required a woman who had expended her strength +combating the construction of a devilish kitchen, to devise some of my +built-in conveniences, and I worked as carefully on my kitchen table, as +on any part of the house. If I find later that the winning plans include +these things I shall believe that Henry Anderson is a mind reader, or +that lost plans naturally gravitate to him. But there is no use to +grouch further. I seem to be born a loser. Anyway, I haven't lost you +and I still have Dana Meade. + +I have nothing else to tell you except that Mr. Snow has waited for me +two evenings out of the week ever since I wrote you, and he has taken +me in his car and simply forced me to drive him for an hour over what +appeals to me to be the most difficult roads he could select. So far +I have not balked at anything but he has had the consideration not to +direct me to the mountains. He is extremely attractive, Linda, and I do +enjoy being with him, but I dread it too, because his grief is so deep +and so apparent that it constantly keeps before me the loss of my own +dear ones, and those things to which the hymn books refer as “aching +voids” in my own life. + +But there is something you will be glad to hear. That unknown +correspondent of mine is still sending letters, and I am crazy about +them. I don't answer one now until I have mulled over it two or three +days and I try to give him as good as he sends. + +I judge from your letters that you are keeping at least even with +Eileen, and that life is much happier for you. You seem to be +broadening. I am so glad for the friendship you have formed with Donald +Whiting. My mother and Mrs. Whiting were friends. She is a charming +woman and it has seemed to me that in her daughter Louise she has +managed a happy compound of old-fashioned straightforwardness and +unswerving principle, festooned with happy trimmings of all that is best +in the present days. I hope that you do become acquainted with her. She +is older than you, but she is the kind of girl I know you would like. + +Don't worry because I have lost again, Linda dear. Today is my blue +day. Tomorrow I shall roll up my sleeves and go at it again with all my +might, and by and by it is written in the books that things will come +right for me. They cannot go wrong for ever. With dearest love, + +MARIAN. + +Linda looked grim as she finished the letter. + +“Confound such luck,” she said emphatically. “I do not understand +it. How can a man like Henry Anderson know more about comforts and +conveniences in a home than a woman with Marian's experience and +comprehension? And she has been gaining experience for the past ten +years. That partner of his must be a six-cylinder miracle.” + +Linda went to the kitchen, because she was in pressing need of someone +to whom to tell her troubles, and there was no one except Katy. What +Katy said was energetic and emphatic, but it comforted Linda, because +she agreed with it and what she was seeking at the minute was someone +who agreed with her. As she went back upstairs, she met Eileen on her +way to the front door. Eileen paused and deliberately studied Linda's +face, and Linda stopped and waited quietly until she chose to speak. + +“I presume,” said Eileen at last, “that you and Katy would call the +process through which you are going right now, 'taking the bit in your +teeth,' or some poetic thing like that, but I can't see that you are +getting much out of it. I don't hear the old laugh or the clatter of +gay feet as I did before all this war of dissatisfaction broke out. This +minute if you haven't either cried, or wanted to, I miss my guess.” + +“You win,” said Linda. “I have not cried, because I make it a rule never +to resort to tears when I can help it; so what you see now is unshed +tears in my heart. They in no way relate to what you so aptly term my +'war of dissatisfaction'; they are for Marian. She has lost again, this +time the Nicholson and Snow prize in architecture.” + +“Serves her right,” said Eileen, laughing contemptuously. “The +ridiculous idea of her trying to compete in a man's age-old occupation! +As if she ever could learn enough about joists and beams and girders and +installing water and gas and electricity to build a house. She should +have had the sense to know she couldn't do it.” + +“But,” said Linda quietly, “Marian wasn't proposing to be a contractor, +she only wants to be an architect. And the man who beat her is Peter +Morrison's architect, Henry Anderson, and he won by such a narrow margin +that her plans were thrown out of second and third place, because they +were so very similar to his. Doesn't that strike you as curious?” + +“That is more than curious,” said Eileen slowly. “That is a very strange +coincidence. They couldn't have had anything from each other, because +they only met at dinner, before all of us, and Marian went away the next +morning; it does seem queer.” Then she added with a flash of generosity +and justice, “It looks pretty good for Marian, at that. If she came so +near winning that she lost second and third because she was too near +first to make any practical difference, I must be wrong and she must be +right.” + +“You are wrong,” said Linda tersely, “if you think Marian cannot +make wonderful plans for houses. But going back to what my 'war of +dissatisfaction' is doing to me, it's a pale affair compared with what +it is doing to you, Eileen. You look a debilitated silhouette of the +near recent past. Do you feel that badly about giving up a little money +and authority?” + +“I never professed to have the slightest authority over you,” said +Eileen very primly, as she drew back in the shadows. “You have come and +gone exactly as you pleased. All I ever tried to do was to keep up a +decent appearance before the neighbors and make financial ends meet.” + +“That never seemed to wear on you as something seems to do now,” said +Linda. “I am thankful that this week ends it. I was looking for you +because I wanted to tell you to be sure not to make any date that +will keep you from meeting me at the office of the president of the +Consolidated Bank Thursday afternoon. I am going to arrange with John +to be there and it shouldn't take fifteen minutes to run through matters +and divide the income in a fair way between us. I am willing for you to +go on paying the bills and ordering for the house as you have been.” + +“Certainly you are,” sneered Eileen. “You are quite willing for all the +work and use the greater part of my time to make you comfortable.” + +Linda suddenly drew back. Her body seemed to recoil, but her head thrust +forward as if to bring her eyes in better range to read Eileen's face. + +“That is utterly unjust, Eileen,” she cried. + +Then two at a time she rushed the stairs in a race for her room. + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. The Day of Jubilee + +Linda started to school half an hour earlier Wednesday morning because +that was the day for her weekly trip to the Post Office for any mail +which might have come to her under the name of Jane Meredith. She had +hard work to keep down her color when she recognized the heavy gray +envelope used by the editor of Everybody's Home. As she turned from the +window with it in her fingers she was trembling slightly and wondering +whether she could have a minute's seclusion to face the answer which her +last letter might have brought. There was a small alcove beside a public +desk at one side of the room. Linda stepped into this, tore open the +envelope and slipped out the sheet it contained. Dazedly she stared at +the slip that fell from it. Slowly the color left her cheeks and then +came rushing back from her surcharged heart until her very ears were +red, because that slip was very manifestly a cheque for five hundred +dollars. Mentally and physically Linda shook herself, then she +straightened to full height, tensing her muscles and holding the sheet +before her with a hand on each side to keep it from shaking, while she +read: + +MY DEAR MADAM: + +I sincerely apologize for having waited so long before writing you of +the very exceptional reception which your articles have had. I think one +half their attraction has been the exquisite and appealing pictures you +have sent for their illustration. At the present minute they are forming +what I consider the most unique feature in the magazine. I am enclosing +you a cheque for five hundred dollars as an initial payment on the +series. Just what the completed series should be worth I am unable to +say until you inform me how many months you can keep it up at the same +grade of culinary and literary interest and attractive illustration; but +I should say at a rough estimate that you would be safe in counting upon +a repetition of this cheque for every three articles you send in. This +of course includes payment for the pictures also, which are to me if +anything more attractive than the recipes, since the local color and +environment they add to the recipe and the word sketch are valuable in +the extreme. + +If you feel that you can continue this to the extent of even a small +volume, I shall be delighted to send you a book contract. In considering +this proposition, let me say that if you could not produce enough +recipes to fill a book, you could piece it out to the necessary length +most charmingly and attractively by lengthening the descriptions of the +environment in which the particular fruits and vegetables you deal with +are to be found; and in book form you might allow yourself much greater +latitude in the instructions concerning the handling of the fruits +and the preparation of the recipes. I think myself that a wonderfully +attractive book could be made from this material, and hope that you will +agree with me. Trusting that this will be satisfactory to you and that +you will seriously consider the book proposition before you decline it, +I remain, my dear madam, Very truly yours, + +HUGH THOMPSON, + +Editor, Everybody's Home. + +Gripping the cheque and the letter, Linda lurched forward against the +window casement and shut her eyes tight, because she could feel big, +nervous gulps of exultation and rejoicing swelling up in her throat. She +shifted the papers to one hand and surreptitiously slipped the other to +her pocket. She tried to keep the papers before her and looked straight +from the window to avoid attracting attention. The tumult of exultation +in her heart was so wild that she did not surely know whether she wanted +to sink to the floor, lay her face against the glass, and indulge in +what for generations women have referred to as “a good cry,” or whether +she wanted to leap from the window and sport on the wind like a driven +leaf. + +Then she returned the letter and cheque to the envelope, and slipped it +inside her blouse, and started on her way to school. She might as well +have gone to Multiflores Canyon and pitted her strength against climbing +its walls for the day, for all the good she did in her school work. +She heard no word of any recitation by her schoolmates. She had no word +ready when called on for a recitation herself. She heard nothing that +was said by any of the professors. On winged feet she was flying back +and forth from the desert to the mountains, from the canyons to the sea. +She was raiding beds of amass and devising ways to roast the bulbs and +make a new dish. She was compounding drinks from mescal and bisnaga. She +was hunting desert pickles and trying to remember whether Indian rhubarb +ever grew so far south. She was glad when the dismissal hour came that +afternoon. With eager feet she went straight to the Consolidated Bank +and there she asked again to be admitted to the office of the president. +Mr. Worthington rose as she came in. + +“Am I wrong in my dates?” he inquired. “I was not expecting you until +tomorrow.” + +“No, you're quite right,” said Linda. “At this hour tomorrow. But, Mr. +Worthington, I am in trouble again.” + +Linda looked so distressed that the banker pushed a chair to the table's +side for her, and when she had seated herself, he said quietly: “Tell me +all about it, Linda. We must get life straightened out as best we can.” + +“I think I must tell you all about it,” said Linda, “because I know just +enough about banking to know that I have a proposition that I don't +know how to handle. Are bankers like father confessors and doctors and +lawyers?” + +“I think they are even more so,” laughed Mr. Worthington. “Perhaps the +father confessor takes precedence, otherwise I believe people are quite +as much interested in their financial secrets as in anything else in all +this world. Have you a financial secret?” + +“Yes,” said Linda, “I have what is to me a big secret, and I don't in +the least know how to handle it, so right away I thought about you and +that you would be the one to tell me what I could do.” + +“Go ahead,” said Mr. Worthington kindly. “I'll give you my word of honor +to keep any secret you confide to me.” + +Linda produced her letter. She opened it and without any preliminaries +handed it and the cheque to the banker. He looked at the cheque +speculatively, and then laid it aside and read the letter. He gave every +evidence of having read parts of it two or three times, then he examined +the cheque again, and glanced at Linda. + +“And just how did you come into possession of this, young lady?” he +inquired. “And what is it that you want of me?” + +“Why, don't you see?” said Linda. “It's my letter and my cheque; I'm +'Jane Meredith.' Now how am I going to get my money.” + +For one dazed moment Mr. Worthington studied Linda; then he threw back +his head and laughed unrestrainedly. He came around the table and took +both Linda's hands. + +“Bully for you!” he cried exultantly. “How I wish your father could see +the seed he has sown bearing its fruit. Isn't that fine? And do you want +to go on with this anonymously?” + +“I think I must,” said Linda. “I have said in my heart that no Jap, male +or female, young or old, shall take first honors in a class from which +I graduate; and you can see that if people generally knew this, it would +make it awfully hard for me to go on with my studies, and I don't know +that the editor who is accepting this work would take it if he knew +it were sent him by a high-school Junior. You see the dignified way in +which he addresses me as 'madam'?” + +“I see,” said Mr. Worthington reflectively. + +“I'm sure,” said Linda with demure lips, though the eyes above them +were blazing and dancing at high tension, “I'm sure that the editor +is attaching a husband, and a house having a well-ordered kitchen, and +rather wide culinary experience to that 'dear madam.'” + +“And what about this book proposition?” asked the banker gravely. “That +would be a big thing for a girl of your age. Can you do it, and continue +your school work?” + +“With the background I have, with the unused material I have, and with +vacation coming before long, I can do it easily,” said Linda. “My school +work is not difficult for me. It only requires concentration for about +two hours in the preparation that each day brings. The remainder of the +time I could give to amplifying and producing new recipes.” + +“I see,” said the banker. “So you have resolved, Linda, that you don't +want your editor to know your real name.” + +“Could scarcely be done,” said Linda. + +“But have you stopped to think,” said the banker, “that you will be +asked for personal history and about your residence, and no doubt a +photograph of yourself. If you continue this work anonymously you're +going to have trouble with more matters than cashing a cheque.” + +“But I am not going to have any trouble cashing a cheque,” she said, +“because I have come straight to the man whose business is cheques.” + +“True enough,” he said; “I SHALL have to arrange the cheque; there's not +a doubt about that; and as for your other bugbears.” + +“I refuse to be frightened by them,” interposed Linda. + +“Have you ever done any business at the bank?” + +“No,” said Linda. + +“None of the clerks know you?” + +“Not that I remember,” said Linda. “I might possibly be acquainted with +some of them. I have merely passed through the bank on my way to your +room twice.” + +“Then,” said the banker, “we'll have to risk it. After this estate +business is settled you will want to open an account in your name.” + +“Quite true,” said Linda. + +“Then I would advise you,” said Mr. Worthington, “to open this account +in your own name. Endorse this cheque 'Jane Meredith' and make it +payable to me personally. Whenever one of these comes, bring it to me +and I'll take care of it for you. One minute.” + +He left Linda sitting quietly reading and rereading her letter, and +presently returned and laid a sheaf of paper money before her. + +“Take it to the paying teller. Tell him that you wish to deposit it, and +ask him to give you a bank book and a cheque book,” he said. “Thank you +very much for coming to me and for confiding in me.” + +Linda gathered up the money, and said good-bye to the banker. Just as +she started forward she recognized Eileen at the window of the paying +teller. It was an Eileen she never before had seen. Her face was +strained to a ghastly gray. Her hat was not straight and her hands were +shaking. Without realizing that she was doing it, Linda stepped behind +one of the huge marble pillars supporting the ceiling and stood there +breathlessly, watching Eileen. She could gather that she was discussing +the bank ledger which lay before the teller and that he was refusing +something that Eileen was imploring him to do. Linda thought she +understood what it was. Then very clearly Eileen's voice, sharp and +strained, reached her ears. + +“You mean that you are refusing to pay me my deposits on my private +account?” she cried; and Linda could also hear the response. + +“I am very sorry if it annoys or inconveniences you, Miss Strong, but +since the settlement of the estate takes place tomorrow, our orders are +to pay out no funds in any way connected with the estate until after +that settlement has been arranged.” + +“But this is my money, my own private affair,” begged Eileen. “The +estate has nothing to do with it.” + +“I am sorry,” repeated the teller. “If that is the case, you will have +no difficulty in establishing the fact in a few minutes' time.” + +Eileen turned and left the bank, and it seemed that she was almost +swaying. Linda stood a second with narrowed eyes, in deep thought. + +“I think,” she said at last, deep down in her heart, “that it looks +precious much as if there had been a bit of transgression in this +affair. It looks, too, as if 'the way of the transgressor' were a darned +hard way. Straight ahead open and aboveboard for you, my girl!” + +Then she went quietly to the desk and transacted her own business; +but her beautiful day was clouded. Her heart was no longer leaping +exultantly. She was sickened and sorrowful over the evident nerve strain +and discomfort which Eileen seemed to have brought upon herself. She +dreaded meeting her at dinner that night, and she wondered all the way +home where Eileen had gone from the bank and what she had been doing. +What she felt was a pale affair compared with what she would have felt +if she could have seen Eileen leave the bank and enter a near-by +store, go to a telephone booth and put in a long-distance call for San +Francisco. Her eyes were brilliant, her cheeks by nature redder than +the rouge she had used upon them. She squared her shoulders, lifted +her head, as if she irrevocably had made a decision and would not be +thwarted in acting upon it. While she waited she straightened her hat, +and tucked up her pretty hair, once more evincing concern about her +appearance. After a nervous wait she secured her party. + +“Am I speaking with Mr. James Heitman?” she asked. + +“Yes,” came the answer. + +“Well, Uncle Jim, this is Eileen.” + +“Why, hello, girlie,” was the quick response. “Delighted that you're +calling your ancient uncle. Haven't changed the decision in the last +letter I had from you, have you?” + +“Yes,” said Eileen, “I have changed it. Do you and Aunt Caroline still +want me, Uncle Jim?” + +“YOU BET WE WANT YOU!” roared the voice over the 'phone. “Here we are, +with plenty of money and not a relation on earth but you to leave it to. +You belong to us by rights. We'd be tickled to death to have you, and +for you to have what's left of the money when we get through with it. +May I come after you? Say the word, and I'll start this minute.” + +“Oh, Uncle Jim, could you? Would you?” cried Eileen. + +“Well, I'd say I could. We'd be tickled to death, I tell you!” + +“How long would it take you to get here?” said Eileen. + +“Well, I could reach you by noon tomorrow. Eleven something is the +shortest time it's been made in; that would give me thirteen--more than +enough. Are you in that much of a hurry?” + +“Yes,” gasped Eileen, “yes, I am in the biggest kind of a hurry there +is, Uncle Jim. This troublesome little estate has to be settled tomorrow +afternoon. There's going to be complaint about everything that I have +seen fit to do. I've been hounded and harassed till I am disgusted with +it. Then I've promised to marry John Gilman as I wrote you, and I don't +believe you would think that was my best chance with the opportunities +you could give me. It seems foolish to stay here, abused as I have been +lately, and as I will be tomorrow. You have the house number. If you +come and get me out of it by noon tomorrow, I'll go with you. You may +take out those adoption papers you have always entreated me to agree to +and I'll be a daughter that you can be proud of. It will be a relief to +have some real money and some real position, and to breathe freely and +be myself once more.” + +“All right for you, girlie!” bellowed the great voice over the line. +“Pick up any little personal bits you can put in a suitcase, and by +twelve o'clock tomorrow I'll whisk you right out of that damn mess.” + +Eileen walked from the telephone booth with her head high, triumph +written all over her face and figure. They were going to humiliate her. +She would show them! + +She went home immediately. Entering her room, she closed the door and +stood looking at her possessions. How could she get her trunk from the +garret? How could she get it to the station? Would it be possible for +Uncle James to take it in his car? As she pondered these things Eileen +had a dim memory of a day in her childhood when her mother had gone on +business to San Francisco and had taken her along. She remembered a +huge house, all turrets and towers and gables, all turns and twists +and angles, closed to the light of day and glowing inside with shining +artificial lights. She remembered stumbling over deep rugs. One vivid +impression was of walls covered with huge canvases, some of them having +frames more than a foot wide. She remembered knights in armor, and big +fireplaces, and huge urns and vases. It seemed to her like the most +wonderful bazaar she ever had been in. She remembered, too, that she had +been glad when her mother had taken her out into the sunshine again and +from the presence of two ponderous people who had objected strongly to +everything her mother had discussed with them. She paused one instant, +contemplating this picture. The look of triumph on her face toned down +considerably. Then she comforted herself aloud. + +“I've heard Mother say,” she said softly, “that everybody overdid things +and did not know how to be graceful with immense fortunes got from +silver and gold mines, and lumber. It will be different now. Probably +they don't live in the same house, even. There is a small army of +servants, and there is nothing I can think of that Uncle Jim won't +gladly get me. I've been too big a fool for words to live this way as +long as I have. Crush me, will they? I'll show them! I won't even touch +these things I have strained so to get.” + +Eileen jerked from her throat the strand of pearls that she had worn +continuously for four years and threw it contemptuously on her dressing +table. + +“I'll make Uncle Jim get me a rope with two or three strands in it that +will reach to my waist. 'A suitcase!' I don't know what I would fill a +suitcase with from here. The trunk may stay in the garret, and while I +am leaving all this rubbish, I'll just leave John Gilman with it. Uncle +Jim will give me an income that will buy all the cigarettes I want +without having to deceive anyone; and I can have money if I want to +stake something at bridge without being scared into paralysis for fear +somebody may find it out or the accounts won't balance. I'll put on the +most suitable thing I have to travel in, and just walk out and leave +everything else.” + +That was what Eileen did. At noon the next day her eyes were bright with +nervousness. Her cheeks alternately paled with fear and flooded red with +anxiety. She had dressed herself carefully, laid out her hat and gloves +and a heavy coat in case the night should be chilly. Once she stood +looking at the dainty, brightly colored dresses hanging in her wardrobe +A flash of regret passed over her face. + +“Tawdry little cheap things and makeshifts,” she said. “If Linda feels +that she has been so terribly defrauded, she can help herself now!” + +By twelve o'clock she found herself standing at the window, straining +her eyes down Lilac Valley. She was not looking at its helpful hills, +at its appealing curves, at its brilliant colors. She was watching the +roadway. When Katy rang to call her to lunch, she told her to put the +things away; she was expecting people who would take her out to lunch +presently. In the past years she had occasionally written to her uncle. +Several times when he had had business in Los Angeles she had met him at +his hotel and dined with him. She reasoned that he would come straight +to the house and get her, and then they would go to one of the big +hotels for lunch before they started. + +“I shan't feel like myself,” said Eileen, “until we are well on the way +to San Francisco.” + +At one o'clock she was walking the floor. At two she was almost frantic. +At half past she almost wished that she had had the good sense to have +some lunch, since she was very hungry and under tense nerve strain. Once +she paused before the glass, but what she saw frightened her. Just when +she felt that she could not endure the strain another minute, grinding +brakes, the blast of a huge Klaxon, and the sound of a great voice arose +from the street. Eileen rushed to the window. She took one look, caught +up the suitcase and raced down the stairs. At the door she met a bluff, +big man, gross from head to foot. It seemed to Eileen strange that she +could see in him even a trace of her mother, and yet she could. Red +veins crossed his cheeks and glowed on his nose. His tired eyes +were watery; his thick lips had an inclination to sag; but there was +heartiness in his voice and earnestness in the manner in which he picked +her up. + +“What have they been doing to you down here?” he demanded. “Never should +have left you this long. Ought to have come down and taken you and +showed you what you wanted, and then you would have known whether you +wanted it or not.” + +At this juncture a huge woman, gross in a feminine way as her husband +was in his, paddled up the walk. + +“I'm comin' in and rest a few minutes,” she said. “I'm tired to death +and I'm pounded to pieces.” + +Her husband turned toward her. He opened his lips to introduce Eileen. +His wife forestalled him. + +“So this is the Eileen you have been ravin' about for years,” she said. +“I thought you said she was a pretty girl.” + +Eileen's soul knew one sick instant of recoil. She looked from James +Heitman to Caroline, his wife, and remembered that he had a habit +of calling her “Callie.” All that paint and powder and lipstick and +brilliantine could do to make the ponderous, big woman more ghastly had +been done, but in the rush of the long ride through which her husband +had forced her, the colors had mixed and slipped, the false waves were +displaced. She was not in any condition to criticize the appearance +of another woman. For one second Eileen hesitated, then she lifted her +shaking hands to her hat. + +“I have been hounded out of my senses,” she said apologetically, “and +have been so terribly anxious for fear you wouldn't get here on time. +Please, Aunt Caroline, let us go to a hotel, some place where we can +straighten up comfortably.” + +“Well, what's your hurry?” said Aunt Caroline coolly. “You're not a +fugitive from justice, are you? Can't a body rest a few minutes and have +a drink, even? Besides, I am going to see what kind of a place you've +been living in, and then I'll know how thankful you'll be for what we +got to offer.” + +Eileen turned and threw open the door. The big woman walked in. She +looked down the hall, up the stairway, and went on to the living room. +She gave it one contemptuous glance, and turning, came back to the door. + +“All right, Jim,” she said brusquely. “I have seen enough. If you know +the best hotel in the town, take me there. And then, if Eileen's in such +a hurry, after we have had a bite we'll start for home.” + +“Thank you, Aunt Caroline, oh, thank you!” cried Eileen. + +“You needn't take the trouble to 'aunt' me every time you speak to me,” + said the lady. “I know you're my niece, but I ain't goin' to remind you +of it every time I speak to you. It's agein', this 'auntie' business. +I don't stand for it, and as for a name, I am free to confess I always +like the way Jim calls me 'Callie.' That sounds younger and more +companionable than 'Caroline.'” + +James Heitman looked at Eileen and winked. + +“You just bet, old girl!” he said. “They ain't any of them can beat +you, not even Eileen at her best. Let's get her out of here. Does this +represent your luggage, girlie?” + +“You said not to bother with anything else,” said Eileen. + +“So I did,” said Uncle Jim, “and I meant just what I said if it's all +right with you. I suppose I did have, in the back of my head, an idea +that there might be a trunk or a box--some things that belonged to your +mother, mebby, and your 'keepsakes.'” + +“Oh, never mind,” interrupted Eileen. “Do let's go. It's nearly four +o'clock. Any minute they may send for me from the bank, and I'd be more +than glad to be out of the way.” + +“Well, I'm not accustomed to being the porter, but if time's that +precious, here we go,” said Uncle Jim. + +He picked up the suitcase with one hand and took his wife's arm with the +other. + +“Scoot down there and climb into that boat,” he said proudly to Eileen. +“We'll have a good dinner in a private room when we get to the hotel. I +won't even register. And then we'll get out of here when we have rested +a little.” + +“Can't we stay all night and go in the morning?” panted his wife. + +“No, ma'am, we can't,” said James Heitman authoritatively. “We'll eat +a bite because we need to be fed up, and I sincerely hope they's some +decent grub to be had in this burg. The first place we come to outside +of here, that looks like they had a decent bed, we'll stop and make up +for last night. But we ain't a-goin' to stay here if Eileen wants us to +start right away, eh, Eileen?” + +“Yes, please!” panted Eileen. “I just don't want to meet any of them. +It's time enough for them to know what has happened after I am gone.” + +“All right then,” said Uncle James. “Pile in and we'll go.” + +So Eileen started on the road to the unlimited wealth her soul had +always craved. + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. Linda's First Party + +At the bank Linda and John Gilman waited an hour past the time set for +Eileen's appearance. Then Linda asserted herself. + +“I have had a feeling for some time,” she said quietly, “that Eileen +would not appear today, and if she doesn't see fit to come, there is no +particular reason why she should. There is nothing to do but go over +the revenue from the estate. The books will show what Eileen has drawn +monthly for her expense budget. That can be set aside and the remainder +divided equally between us. It's very simple. Here is a letter I wrote +to the publishers of Father's books asking about royalties. I haven't +even opened it. I will turn it in with the remainder of the business.” + +They were in the office with the president of the bank. He rang for the +clerk he wanted and the books he required, and an hour's rapid figuring +settled the entire matter, with the exception of the private account, +amounting to several thousands, standing in Eileen's name. None of them +knew any source of separate income she might have. At a suggestion from +Linda, the paying teller was called in and asked if he could account for +any of the funds that had gone into the private account. + +“Not definitely,” he said, “but the amounts always corresponded +exactly with the royalties from the books. I strongly suspect that they +constitute this private account of Miss Eileen's.” + +But he did not say that she had tried to draw it the day previous. + +John Gilman made the suggestion that they should let the matter rest +until Eileen explained about it. Then Linda spoke very quietly, but with +considerable finality in her tone. + +“No,” she said, “I know that Eileen HAD no source of private income. +Mother used to mention that she had some wealthy relatives in San +Francisco, but they didn't approve of her marriage to what they called +a 'poor doctor,' and she would never accept, or allow us to accept, +anything from them. They never came to see us and we never went to see +them. Eileen knows no more about them than I do. We will work upon the +supposition that everything that is here belonged to Father. Set aside +to Eileen's credit the usual amount for housekeeping expenses. Turn the +private account in with the remainder. Start two new bank books, one for +Eileen and one for me. Divide the surplus each month exactly in halves. +And I believe this is the proper time for the bank to turn over to me +a certain key, specified by my father as having been left in your +possession to be delivered to me on my coming of age.” + +With the key in her possession, Linda and John Gilman left the bank. As +they stood for a moment in front of the building, Gilman removed his hat +and ran his hands through his hair as if it were irritating his head. + +“Linda,” he said in a deeply wistful tone, “I don't understand this. Why +shouldn't Eileen have come today as she agreed? What is there about this +that is not according to law and honor and the plain, simple rights of +the case?” + +“I don't know,” said Linda; “but there is something we don't understand +about it. And I am going to ask you, John, as my guardian, closing up my +affairs today, to go home with me to be present when I open the little +hidden door I found at the back of a library shelf when I was disposing +of Daddy's technical books. There was a slip of paper at the edge of it +specifying that the key was in possession of the Consolidated Bank and +was to be delivered to me, in the event of Daddy's passing, on my coming +of age. I have the key, but I would like to have you with me, and Eileen +if she is in the house, when I open that door. I don't know what is +behind it, but there's a certain feeling that always has been strong in +my heart and it never was so strong as it is at this minute.” + +So they boarded the street car and ran out to Lilac Valley. When Katy +admitted them Linda put her arm around her and kissed her. She could see +that the house was freshly swept and beautifully decorated with flowers, +and her trained nostrils could scent whiffs of delicious odors from +food of which she was specially fond. In all her world Katy was the one +person who was celebrating her birthday. She seemed rather surprised +when Linda and Gilman came in together. + +“Where is Eileen?” inquired Linda. + +“She must have made some new friends,” said Katy. “About four o'clock, +the biggest car that ever roared down this street rolled up, and the +biggest man and woman that I ever see came puffin' and pantin' in. Miss +Eileen did not tell me where she was goin' or when she would be back, +but I know it won't be the night, because she took her little dressin' +case with her. Belike it's another of them trips to Riverside or +Pasadena.” + +“Very likely,” said Linda quietly. “Katy, can you spare a few minutes?” + +“No, lambie, I jist can't,” said Katy, “because a young person that's +the apple of me eye is havin' a birthday the day and I have got me +custard cake in the oven and the custard is in the makin', and after +Miss Eileen went and I didn't see no chance for nothin' special, I +jist happened to look out, one of the ways ye do things unbeknownst +to yourself, and there stood Mr. Pater Morrison moonin' over the +'graveyard,' like he called it, and it was lookin' like seein' graves he +was, and I jist took the bull by the horns, and I sings out to him and +I says: 'Mr. Pater Morrison, it's a good friend ye were to the young +missus when ye engineered her skylight and her beautiful fireplace, and +this bein' her birthday, I'm takin' the liberty to ask ye to come to +dinner and help me celebrate.' And he said he would run up to the garage +and get into his raygimentals, whatever them might be, and he would be +here at six o'clock. So ye got a guest for dinner, and if the custard's +scorched and the cake's flat, it's up to ye for kapin' me here to tell +ye all this.” + +Then Katy hurried to the kitchen. Linda looked at John Gilman and +smiled. + +“Isn't that like her?” she said. + +Then she led the way to the library, pulled aside the books, fitted the +key to the little door, and opened it. Inside lay a single envelope, +sealed and bearing her name. She took the envelope, and walking to her +father's chair beside his library table, sat down in it, and laying the +envelope on the table, crossed her hands on top of it. + +“John,” she said, “ever since I have been big enough to think and reason +and study things out for myself, there is a feeling I have had--I used +to think it was unreasonable, then I thought it remote possibility. This +minute I think it's extremely probable. Before I open this envelope I am +going to tell you what I believe it contains. I have not the slightest +evidence except personal conviction, but I believe that the paper inside +this envelope is written by my father's hand and I believe it tells me +that he was not Eileen's father and that I am not her sister. If it +does not say this, then there is nothing in race and blood and inherited +tendencies.” + +Linda picked up the paper cutter, ran it across the envelope, slipped +out the sheet, and bracing herself she read: + +MY DARLING LINDA: + +These lines are to tell you that your mother went to her eternal sleep +when you were born. Four years later I met and fell in love with the +only mother you ever have known. At the time of our marriage we entered +into a solemn compact that her little daughter by a former marriage and +mine should be reared as sisters. I was to give half my earnings and to +do for Eileen exactly as I did for you. She was to give half her love +and her best attention to your interests. + +I sincerely hope that what I have done will not result in any discomfort +or inconvenience to you. + +With dearest love, as ever your father, + +ALEXANDER STRONG. + +Linda laid the sheet on the table and dropped her hands on top of it. +Then she looked at John Gilman. + +“John,” she said, “I believe you had better face the fact that the big +car and the big people that carried Eileen away today were her mother's +wealthy relatives from San Francisco. She must have been in touch with +them. I think very likely she sent for them after I saw her in the bank +yesterday afternoon, trying with all her might to make the paying teller +turn over to her the funds of the private account.” + +John Gilman sat very still for a long time, then he raised tired, +disappointed eyes to Linda's face. + +“Linda,” he said, “do you mean you think Eileen was not straight about +money matters?” + +“John,” said Linda quietly, “I think it is time for the truth about +Eileen between you and me. If you want me to answer that question +candidly, I'll answer it.” + +“I want the truth,” said John Gilman gravely. + +“Well,” said Linda, “I never knew Eileen to be honest about anything +in all her life unless the truth served her better than an evasion. Her +hair was not honest color and it was not honest curl. Her eyebrows were +not so dark as she made them. Her cheeks and lips were not so red, her +forehead and throat were not so white, her form was not so perfect. Her +friends were selected because they could serve her. As long as you were +poor and struggling, Marian was welcome to you. When you won a great +case and became prosperous and fame came rapidly, Eileen took you. I +believe what I told you a minute ago: I think she has gone for good. I +think she went because she had not been fair and she would not be forced +to face the fact before you and me and the president of the Consolidated +today. I think you will have to take your heart home tonight and I think +that before the night is over you will realize what Marian felt when she +knew that in addition to having been able to take you from her, Eileen +was not a woman who would make you happy. I am glad, deeply glad, that +there is not a drop of her blood in my veins, sorry as I am for you and +much as I regret what has happened. I won't ask you to stay tonight, +because you must go through the same black waters Marian breasted, and +you will want to be alone. Later, if you think of any way I can serve +you, I will be glad for old sake's sake; but you must not expect me ever +to love you or respect your judgment as I did before the shadow fell.” + +Then Linda rose, replaced the letter, turned the key in the lock, and +quietly slipped out of the room. + +When she opened her door and stepped into her room she paused in +astonishment. Spread out upon the bed lay a dress of georgette with +little touches of fur and broad ribbons of satin. In color it was +like the flame of seasoned beechwood. Across the foot of the bed hung +petticoat, camisole, and hose, and beside the dress a pair of satin +slippers exactly matching the hose, and they seemed the right size. +Linda tiptoed to the side of the bed and delicately touched the dress, +and then she saw a paper lying on the waist front, and picking it up +read: + +Lambie, here's your birthday, from loving old Katy. + +The lines were terse and to the point. Linda laid them down, and picking +up the dress she walked to the mirror, and holding it under her chin +glanced down the length of its reflection. What she saw almost stunned +her. + +“Oh, good Lord!” she said. “I can't wear that. That isn't me.” + +Then she tossed the dress on the bed and started in a headlong rush to +the kitchen. As she came through the door, “You blessed old darling!” + she cried. “What am I going to say to make you know how I appreciate +your lovely, lovely gift?” + +Katy raised her head. There was something that is supposed to be the +prerogative of royalty in the lift of it. Her smile was complacent in +the extreme. + +“Don't ye be standin' there wastin' no time talkie',” she said. + +“I have oodles of time,” said Linda, “but I warn you, you won't know me +if I put on that frock, Katy.” + +“Yes, I will, too,” said Katy. + +“Katy,” said Linda, sobering suddenly, “would it make any great +difference to you if I were the only one here for always, after this?” + +Katy laughed contemptuously. + +“Well, I'd warrant to survive it,” she said coolly. + +“But that is exactly what I must tell you, Katy,” said Linda soberly. +“You know I have told you a number of times through these years that I +did not believe Eileen and I were sisters, and I am telling you now that +I know it. She did not come to the bank today, and the settlement of +Father's affairs developed the fact that I was my father's child and +Eileen was her mother's; and I'm thinking, Katy, that the big car +you saw and the opulent people in it were Eileen's mother's wealthy +relatives from San Francisco. My guess is, Katy, that Eileen has gone +with them for good. Lock her door and don't touch her things until we +know certainly what she wants done with them.” + +Katy stood thinking intently, then she lifted her eyes to Linda's. + +“Lambie,” she whispered softly, “are we ixpicted to go into mourning +over this?” + +A mischievous light leaped into Linda's eyes. + +“Well, if there are any such expectations abroad, Katherine O'Donovan,” + she said soberly, “the saints preserve 'em, for we can't fulfill 'em, +can we, Katy?” + + “Not to be savin' our souls,” answered Katy heartily. “I'm jist +so glad and thankful that I don't know what to do, and it's such good +news that I don't belave one word of it. And while you're talkie', what +about John Gilman?” + +“I think,” said Linda quietly, “that tonight is going to teach him how +Marian felt in her blackest hours.” + +“Well, he needn't be coming to me for sympathy,” said Katy. “But if Miss +Eileen has gone to live with the folks that come after her the day, ye +might be savin' a wee crap o' sympathy for her, lambie. They was jist +the kind of people that you'd risk your neck slidin' down a mountain to +get out of their way.” + +“That is too bad,” said Linda reflectively; “because Eileen is sensitive +and constant contact with crass vulgarity certainly would wear on her +nerves.” + +“Now you be goin' and gettin' into that dress, lambie,” said Katy. + +“Katherine O'Donovan,” said Linda, “you're used to it; come again to +confession. Tell me truly where and how did you get that dress?” + +“'Tain't no rule of polite society to be lookin' gift horses in the +mouth,” said Katy proudly. “HOW I got it is me own affair, jist like ye +got any gifts ye was ever makin' me, is yours. WHERE I got it? I went +into the city on the strafe car and I went to the biggest store in the +city and I got in the elevator and I says to the naygur: 'Let me off +where real ladies buy ready-to-wear dresses.' + +“And up comes a little woman, and her hair was jist as soft and curling +round her ears, and brown and pretty was her eyes, and the pink that +God made was in her cheeks, and in a voice like runnin' water she says: +'Could I do anything for you?' I told her what I wanted. And she says: +'How old is the young lady, and what's her size, and what's her color?' +Darlin', ain't that dress the answer to what I told her?” + +“Yes,” said Linda. “If an artist had been selecting a dress for me he +would probably have chosen that one. But, old dear, it's not suitable +for me. It's not the kind of dress that I intended to wear for years and +years yet. Do you think, if I put it on tonight, I'll ever be able to +go back to boots and breeches again, and hunt the canyons for plants to +cook for--you know what?” + +Katy stood in what is commonly designated as a “brown study.” Then she +looked Linda over piercingly. + +“Yes, ma'am,” she said conclusively. “It's my judgment that ye will. I +think ye'll maybe wrap the braids of ye around your head tonight, and I +think ye'll put on that frock, and I think ye'll show Pater Morrison how +your pa's daughter can sit at the head of his table and entertain her +friends. Then I think ye'll hang it in your closet and put on your boots +and breeches and go back to your old Multiflores and attind to your +business, the same as before.” + +“All right, Katy,” said Linda, “if you have that much faith in me I have +that much faith in myself; but, old dear, I can't tell you how I LOVE +having a pretty dress for tonight. Katy dear, the 'Day of Jubilee' has +come. Before you go to sleep I'm coming to your room to tell you fine +large secrets, that you won't believe for a minute, but I haven't the +time to do it now.” + +Then Linda raced to her room and began dressing. She let down the mop of +her hair waving below her waist and looked at it despairingly. + +“That dress never was made for braids down your back,” she said, +glancing toward the bed where it lay shimmering in a mass of lovely +color. “I am of age today; for state occasions I should be a woman. What +shall I do with it?” + +And then she recalled Katy's voice saying: “Braids round your head.” + +“Of course,” said Linda, “that would be the thing to do. I certainly +don't need anything to add to my height; I am far too tall now.” + +So she parted her hair in the middle, brushed it back, divided it in +even halves, and instead of braiding it, she coiled it around her head, +first one side and then the other. + +She slipped into the dress and struggled with its many and intricate +fastenings. Then she went to the guest room to stand before the +full-length mirror there. Slowly she turned. Critically she examined +herself. + +“It's a bit shorter than I would have ordered it,” she said, “but it +reduces my height, it certainly gives wonderful freedom in walking, and +it's not nearly so short as I see other girls wearing.” + +Again she studied herself critically. + +“Need some kind of ornament for my hair,” she muttered, “but I haven't +got it, and neither do I own beads, bracelet, or a ring; and my ears are +sticking right out in the air. I am almost offensively uncovered.” + +Then she went down to show herself to a delighted Katy. When the +doorbell rang Linda turned toward the hall. Katy reached a detaining +hand. + +“You'll do nothing of the sort,” she said. “I answered the bell for Miss +Eileen. Answer the bell I shall for you.” + +Down the hall went Katy with the light of battle in her eyes and the +air of a conqueror in the carriage of her head. She was well trained. +Neither eyelid quivered as she flung the door wide to Peter Morrison. +He stood there in dinner dress, more imposing than Katy had thought he +could be. With quick, inner exultation she reached for two parcels he +carried; over them her delight was so overpowering that Peter Morrison +must have seen a hint of it. With a flourish Katy seated him, and +carried the packages to Linda. She returned a second later for a big +vase, and in this Linda arranged a great sheaf of radiant roses. As Katy +started to carry them back to the room, Linda said “Wait a second,” and +selecting one half opened, she slipped it out, shortened the stem and +tucked it among the coils of hair where she would have set an ornament. +The other package was a big box that when opened showed its interior +to be divided into compartments in each of which nestled an exquisite +flower made of spun sugar. The petals, buds, and leaves were +perfect. There were wonderful roses with pale pink outer petals and +deeper-colored hearts. There were pink mallows that seemed as if they +must have been cut from the bushes bordering Santa Monica road. There +were hollyhocks of white and gold, and simply perfect tulips. Linda +never before had seen such a treasure candy box. She cried out in +delight, and hurried to show Katy. In her pleasure over the real flowers +and the candy flowers Linda forgot her dress, but when she saw Peter +Morrison standing tall and straight, in dinner dress, she stopped and +looked the surprise and pleasure she felt. She had grown accustomed +to Peter in khaki pottering around his building. This Peter she never +before had seen. He represented something of culture, something of +pride, a conformity to a nice custom and something more. Linda was not a +psychoanalyst. + +She could not see a wonderful aura of exquisite color enveloping Peter. +But when Peter saw the girl approaching him, transformed into a woman +whose shining coronet was jewelled with his living red rose, when he saw +the beauty of her lithe slenderness clothed in a soft, flaming color, +something emanated from his inner consciousness that Linda did see, +and for an instant it disturbed her as she went forward holding out her +hands. + +“Peter,” she said gaily, “do you know that this is my Day of Jubilee? I +am a woman today by law, Peter. Hereafter I am to experience at least +a moderate degree of financial freedom, and that I shall enjoy. But the +greatest thing in life is friends.” + +Peter took both the hands extended to him and looked smilingly into her +eyes. + +“You take my breath,” he said. “I knew, the first glimpse I ever had +of you scrambling from the canyon floor, that this transformation COULD +take place. My good fortune is beyond words that I have been first to +see it. Permit me, fair lady.” + +Peter bent and kissed both her hands. He hesitated a second, then he +turned the right hand and left one more kiss in its palm. + +“To have and to hold!” he said whimsically. + +“Thank you,” said Linda, closing her fist over it and holding it up for +inspection. “I'll see that it doesn't escape. And this minute I thank +you for the candy, which I know is delicious, and for my very first +sheaf of roses from any man. See what I have done with one of them?” + +She turned fully around that he might catch the effect of the rose, +and in getting that he also got the full effect of the costume, and the +possibilities of the girl before him. And then she gave him a shock. + +“Isn't it a lovely frock?” she said. “Another birthday gift from the +Strong rock of ages. I have been making a collection of rocks for my +fern bed, and I have got another collection that is not visible to +anyone save myself. Katy's a rock, and you're a rock, and Donald is a +rock, and Marian's a rock, and I am resting securely on all of you. I +wish my father knew that in addition to Marian and Katy I have found two +more such wonderful friends.” + +“And what about Henry Anderson?” inquired Peter. “Aren't you going to +include him?” + +Linda walked over to the chair in which she intended to seat herself. + +“Peter,” she said, “I wish you hadn't asked me that.” + +Peter's figure tensed suddenly. + +“Look here, Linda,” he said sternly, “has that rather bold youngster +made himself in any way offensive to you?” + +“Not in any way that I am not perfectly capable of handling myself,” + said Linda. She looked at Peter confidently. + +“Do you suppose,” she said, “that I can sit down in this thing without +ruining it? Shouldn't I really stand up while I am wearing it?” + +Peter laughed unrestrainedly. + +“Linda, you're simply delicious,” he said. “It seems to me that I have +seen young ladies in like case reach round and gather the sash to one +side and smooth out the skirt as they sit.” + +“Thank you, Peter, of course that would be the way,” said Linda. “This +being my first, I'm lacking in experience.” + +And thereupon she sat according to direction; while Peter sat opposite +her. + +“Now finish. Just one word more about Henry Anderson,” he said. “Are you +perfectly sure there is nothing I need do for you in that connection?” + +“Oh, perfectly,” said Linda lightly. “I didn't mean to alarm you. He +merely carried that bug-catcher nonsense a trifle too far. I wouldn't +have minded humoring him and fooling about it a little. But, Peter, do +you know him quite well? Are you very sure of him?” + +“No,” said Peter, “I don't know him well at all. The only thing I am +sure about him is that he is doing well in his profession. I chose him +because he was an ambitious youngster and I thought I could get more +careful attention from him than I could from some of the older fellows +who had made their reputation. You see, there are such a lot of things I +want to know about in this building proposition, and the last four years +haven't been a time for any man to be careful about saving his money.” + +“Then,” said Linda, “he is all right, of course. He must be. But I think +I'm like a cat. I'm very complacent with certain people, but when I +begin to get goose flesh and hair prickles my head a bit, I realize that +there is something antagonistic around, something for me to beware of. I +guess it's because I am such a wild creature.” + +“Do you mean to say,” said Peter, “that these are the sensations that +Henry gives you?” + +Linda nodded. + +“Now forget Henry,” she said. “I have had such a big day I must tell +you about it, and then we'll come to that last article you left me. +I haven't had time to put anything on paper concerning it yet, but I +believe I have an awfully good idea in the paint pot, and I'll find time +in a day or two to work it out. Peter, I have just come from the bank, +where I was recognized as of legal age, and my guardian discharged. And +perhaps I ought to explain to you, Peter, that your friend, John Gilman, +is not here because this night is going to be a bad one for him. When +you knew him best he was engaged, or should have been, to Marian Thorne. +When you met him this time he really was engaged to Eileen. I don't +know what you think about Eileen. I don't feel like influencing anyone's +thought concerning her, so I'll merely say that today has confirmed a +conviction that always has been in my heart. Katy could tell you that +long ago I said to her that I did not believe Eileen was my sister. +Today has brought me the knowledge and proof positive that she is not, +and today she has gone to some wealthy relatives of her mother in San +Francisco. She expressed her contempt for what she was giving up by +leaving everything, including the exquisite little necklace of pearls +which has been a daily part of her since she owned them. I may be +mistaken, but intuition tells me that with the pearls and the wardrobe +she has also discarded John Gilman. I think your friend will be +suffering tonight quite as deeply as my friend suffered when John +abandoned her at a time when she had lost everything else in life but +her money. I feel very sure that we won't see Eileen any more. I hope +she will have every lovely thing in life.” + +“Amen,” said Peter Morrison earnestly. “I loved John Gilman when we were +in school together, but I have not been able to feel, since I located +here, that he is exactly the same John; and what you have told me very +probably explains the difference in him.” + +When Katy announced dinner Linda arose. + +Peter Morrison stepped beside her and offered his arm. Linda rested her +finger tips upon it and he led her to the head of the table and seated +her. Then Katy served a meal that, if it had been prepared for Eileen, +she would have described as a banquet. She gave them delicious, finely +flavored food, stimulating, exquisitely compounded drinks that she had +concocted from the rich fruits of California and mints and essences at +her command. When, at the close of the meal, she brought Morrison some +of the cigars Eileen kept for John Gilman, she set a second tray before +Linda, and this tray contained two packages. Linda looked at Katy +inquiringly, and Katy, her face beaming, nodded her sandy red head +emphatically. + +“More birthday gifts you've havin', me lady,” she said in her mellowest +Irish voice. + +“More?” marveled Linda. She picked up the larger package, and opening +it, found a beautiful book inscribed from her friend Donald, over which +she passed caressing fingers. + +“Why, how lovely of him!” she said. “How in this world did he know?” + +Katherine O'Donovan could have answered that question, but she did not. +The other package was from Marian. When she opened it Linda laughed +unrestrainedly. + +“What a joke!” she said. “I had promised myself that I would not touch +a thing in Eileen's room, and before I could do justice to Katy's lovely +dress I had to go there for pins for my hair and powder for my nose. +This is Marian's way of telling me that I am almost a woman. Will you +look at this?” + +“Well, just what is it?” inquired Peter. + +“Hairpins,” laughed Linda, “and hair ornaments, and a box of face +powder, and the little, feminine touches that my dressing table needs +badly. How would you like, Peter, to finish your cigar in my workroom?” + +“I would like it immensely,” said Peter. + +So together they climbed to the top of the house. Linda knelt and made a +little ceremony of lighting the first fire in her fireplace. She pushed +one of her chairs to one side for Peter, and taking the other for +herself, she sat down and began the process of really becoming +acquainted with him. Two hours later, as he was leaving her, Peter made +a circuit of the room, scrutinizing the sketches and paintings that were +rapidly covering the walls, and presently he came to the wasp. He looked +at it so closely that he did not miss even the stinger. Linda stood +beside him when he made his first dazed comment: “If that isn't Eileen, +and true to the life!” + +“I must take that down,” said Linda. “I did it one night when my heart +was full of bitterness.” + +“Better leave it,” said Peter drily. + +“Do you think I need it as a warning?” asked Linda. + +Peter turned and surveyed her slowly. + +“Linda,” he said quietly, “what I think of you has not yet been written +in any of the books.” + + + +CHAPTER XXV. Buena Moza + +As soon as Peter had left her Linda took her box of candy flowers and +several of her finest roses and went to Katy's room. She found Katy in a +big rocking chair, her feet on a hassock, reading a story in Everybody's +home. When her door opened and she saw her young mistress framed in it +she tossed the magazine aside and sprang to her feet, but Linda made her +resume her seat. The girl shortened the stems of the roses and put them +in a vase on Katy's dresser. + +“They may clash with your coloring a mite, Mother Machree,” she said, +“but by themselves they are very wonderful things, aren't they?” + +Linda went over, and drawing her dress aside, sat down on the hassock +and leaning against Katy's knee she held up the box of candy flowers for +amazed and delighted inspection. + +“Ah, the foine gintleman!” cried Katy. “Sure 'twas only a pape I had +when ye opened the box, an' I didn't know how rare them beauties railly +was.” + +“Choose the one you like best,” said Linda. + +But Katy would not touch the delicate things, so Linda selected a brushy +hollyhock for her and then sat at her knee again. + +“Katherine O'Donovan,” she said solemnly, “it's up to a couple of young +things such as we are, stranded on the shoals of the Pacific as we have +been, to put our heads together and take counsel. You're a host, Katy, +and while I am taking care of you, I'll be just delighted to have you go +on looking after your black sheep; but it's going to be lonely, for all +that. After Eileen has taken her personal possessions, what do you +say to fixing up that room with the belongings that Marian kept, and +inviting her to make that suite her home until such time as she may have +a home of her own again?” + +“Foine!” cried Katy. “I'd love to be havin' her. I'd agree to take +orders from Miss Marian and to be takin' care of her jist almost the +same as I do of ye, Miss Linda. The one thing I don't like about it is +that it ain't fair nor right to give even Marian the best. Ye be takin' +that suite yourself, lambie, and give Miss Marian your room all fixed up +with her things, or, if ye want her nearer, give her the guest room and +make a guest room of yours.” + +“I am willing to follow either of the latter suggestions for myself,” + said Linda; “it might be pleasant to be across the hall from Marian +where we could call back and forth to each other. I wouldn't mind a +change as soon as I have time to get what I'd need to make the change. +I'll take the guest room for mine, and you may call in a decorator and +have my room freshly done and the guest things moved into it.” + +Katy looked belligerent. Linda reached up and touched the frowning lines +on her forehead. + +“Brighten your lovely features with a smile, Katherine me dear,” she +said gaily. “Don't be forgetting that this is our Day of Jubilee. We +are free--I hope we are free forever--from petty annoyances and +dissatisfactions and little, galling things that sear the soul and bring +out all the worst in human nature. I couldn't do anything to Eileen's +suite, not even if I resorted to tearing out partitions and making it +new from start to finish, that would eliminate Eileen from it for me. If +Marian will give me permission to move and install her things in it, +I think she can use it without any such feeling, but I couldn't. It's +agreed then, Katy, I am to write to Marian and extend to her a welcome +on your part as well as on mine?” + +“That ye may, lambie,” said Katy heartily. “And, as the boss used to be +sabin', just to make assurance doubly sure, if YoU would address it +for me I would be writing' a bit of a line myself, conveying' to her me +sentiments on the subject.” + +“Oh, fine, Katy; Marian would be delighted!” cried Linda, springing up. + +“And, Katy dear, it won't make us feel any more like mourning for Eileen +when I tell you that it developed at the bank yesterday and today, that +since she has been managing household affairs she has deposited in a +separate account all the royalties from Father's books. I had thought +the matter closed at the bank when this fund was added to the remainder +of the estate, the household expenses set aside to Eileen, and the +remainder divided equally between us. I didn't get the proof that she +was not my sister until after I came home. I think it means that I shall +have to go back to the bank, have the matter reopened, and unless she +can produce a will or something proving that she is entitled to it, it +seems to me that what remains of my father's estate is legally mine. Of +course, if it develops that he has made any special provision for her, +she shall have it; otherwise, Katy, we'll be in a position to install +you as housekeeper and put some light-footed, capable young person under +you for a step-saver in any direction you want to use her. It means, +too, that I shall be able to repay your loan immediately and to do the +things that I wanted to do about the house.” + +“Now I ain't in any hurry about that money, lambie,” said Katy; “and you +understand of course that the dress you're wearing' I am given' ye.” + +“Of course, old dear, and you should have seen Peter Morrison light up +and admire it. He thinks you have wonderful taste, Katy.” + +Katy threw up both her hands. + +“Oh, my Lord, lambie!” she cried, aghast. “Was you telling' him that the +dress ye were wearing' was a present from your old cook?” + +“Why, certainly I was,” said Linda, wide eyed with astonish meet. “Why +shouldn't I? I was proud to. And now, old dear, before I go, the biggest +secret of all. I had a letter, Katy, from the editor of Everybody's +Home, and people like our articles, Katy; they are something now and +folk are letting the editor know about it, and he wants all I can send +him. He likes the pictures I make; and, Katy, you won't believe it till +I show you my little bank book, but for the three already published +with their illustrations he pays me five hundred nice, long, smooth, +beautifully decorated, paper dollars!” + +“Judas praste!” cried Katy, her hands once more aloft. “Ye ain't manin' +it, lambie?” + +“Yes, I are,” laughed Linda. “I've got the money; and for each +succeeding three with their pictures I am to have that much more, and +when I finish--now steady yourself, Katy, because this is going to be a +shock--when I finish, blessed old dear heart, he is going to make them +into a book! That will be my job for this summer, and you shall help me, +and it will be a part of our great secret. Won't it be the most fun?” + +“My soul!” said Katy. “You're jist crazy. I don't belave a word you're +telling' me.” + +“But I can prove it, because I have the letter and the bank book,” said +Linda. + +Katy threw her arms around the girl and kissed the top of her head and +cried over her and laughed at the same time and patted her and petted +her and ended by saying: “Oh, lambie, if only the master could be +knowin' it.” + +“But he does know, Katy,” said Linda. + +She went to her room, removed the beautiful dress and, arranging it on +a hanger, left it in her closet. Slipping into an old dressing gown, she +ran to her workroom and wrote a letter to Marian from herself. She tried +not to tell Marian the big, vital thing that was throbbing in her +heart all day concerning her work, the great secret that meant such +a wonderful thing to her, the thing that was beating in her heart and +fluttering behind her lips like a bird trying to escape its cage; +but she could tell her in detail of Eileen's undoubted removal to San +Francisco; she could tell her enough of the financial transactions of +the day to make her understand what had been happening in the past; and +she could tell of her latest interview with John Gilman. Once, as she +sat with her pen poised, thinking how to phrase a sentence, Linda said +to herself: “I wonder in my heart if he won't try to come crawfishing +back to Marian now, and if he does, I wonder, oh, how I wonder, what she +will do.” Linda shut her lips very tight and stared up through her +skylight to the stars, as she was fast falling into a habit of doing +when she wanted inspiration. + +“Well, I know one thing,” she said to the shining things above her, +“Marian will do as she sees fit, of course, but if it were I, and any +man had discarded me as John Gilman discarded Marian, in case he ever +wanted to pick me up again he would find I was not there. Much as I plan +in my heart for the home and the man and the little people that I +hope to have some day, I would give up all of them before I would be +discarded and re-sought like that; and knowing Marian as I do, I have +a conviction that she will feel the same way. From the things she is +writing about this Snow man I think it is highly probable that he may +awake some day to learn that he is not so deeply grieved but that he +would like to have Marian to comfort him in his loneliness; and as for +his little girl I don't see where he could find a woman who would rear +her more judiciously and beautifully than Marian would.” + +She finished her letter, sealed and stamped it, and then, taking out +a fresh sheet, she lettered in at the top of it, “INDIAN POTATOES” and +continued: + +And very good potatoes they are. You will find these growing everywhere +throughout California, blooming from May to July, their six long, +slender, white petals shading to gold at the base, grayish on the +outside, a pollen-laden pistil upstanding, eight or ten gold-clubbed +stamens surrounding it, the slender brown stem bearing a dozen or more +of these delicate blooms, springing high from a base of leaves sometimes +nearly two feet long and an inch broad, wave margined, spreading in a +circle around it. In the soil of the plains and the dry hillsides you +will find an amazingly large solid bulb, thickly enwrapped in a coat +of brown fiber, the long threads of which can be braided, their amazing +strength making them suitable for bow strings, lariats, or rope of any +kind that must needs be improvised for use at the moment. The bulbs +themselves have many uses. Crushed and rubbed up in water they make a +delightful cleansing lather. The extracted juice, when cooked down, may +be used as glue. Of the roasted bulbs effective poultices for bruises +and boils may be made. It was an Indian custom to dam a small stream and +throw in mashed Amole bulbs, the effect of which was to stupefy the fish +so that they could be picked out by hand; all of which does not make it +appear that the same bulb would serve as an excellent substitute for a +baked potato; but we must remember how our grandmothers made starch from +our potatoes, used them to break in the new ironware, and to purify the +lard; which goes to prove that one vegetable may be valuable for +many purposes. Amole, whose ponderous scientific name is Chlorogalum +pomeridiarum, is at its best for my purposes when all the chlorophyll +from flower and stem has been driven back to the bulb, and it lies ripe +and fully matured from late August until December. + +Remove the fibrous cover down to the second or third layer enclosing the +bulb. These jackets are necessary as they keep the bulbs from drying out +and having a hard crust. Roast them exactly as you would potatoes. When +they can easily be pierced with a silver fork remove from the oven, +and serve immediately with any course with which you would use baked +potatoes. + +“And gee, but they're good!” commented Linda as she reread what she had +written. + +After that she turned her attention to drawing a hillside whitened +here and there with amole bloom showing in its purity against the warm +grayish-tan background. The waving green leaves ran among big rocks +and overlapped surrounding growth. At the right of her drawing Linda +sketched in a fine specimen of monkey flower, deepening the yellow from +the hearts of the amole lilies for the almost human little monkey +faces. On the left one giant specimen of amole, reared from a base of +exquisitely waving leaves, ran up the side of the drawing and broke into +an airy and graceful head of gold-hearted white lilies. For a long time +Linda sat with poised pencil, studying her foreground. What should she +introduce that would be most typical of the location and gave her the +desired splash of contrasting color that she used as a distinctive touch +in the foreground of all her drawings? + +Her pencil flew busily a few minutes while she sketched in a flatly +growing bush of prickly phlox, setting the flower faces as closely +as the overlapped scales of a fish, setting them even as they grow in +nature; and when she resorted to the color box she painted these faces +a wonderful pink that was not wild rose, not cerise, not lilac, but +it made one think of all of them. When she could make no further +improvement on this sketch, she carefully stretched it against the wall +and tacked it up to dry. + +Afterward she cleared her mental decks of all the work she could think +of in order to have Saturday free, because Saturday was the day upon +which she found herself planning in the back of her mind throughout +the strenuous week, to save for riding the King's Highway with Donald +Whiting. Several times she had met him on the walks or in the hallways, +and always he had stopped to speak with her and several times he had +referred to the high hope in which he waited for Saturday. Linda already +had held a consultation with Katy on the subject of the lunch basket. +That matter being satisfactorily arranged, there was nothing for her +to do but to double on her work so that Saturday would be free. Friday +evening Linda was called from the dinner table to the telephone. She +immediately recognized the voice inquiring for her as that of Judge +Whiting, and then she listened breathlessly while he said to her: “You +will recognize that there is very little I may say over a telephone +concerning a matter to which you brought my attention. I have a very +competent man looking into the matter thoroughly, and I find that +your fear is amply justified. Wherever you go or whatever you do, use +particular care. Don't have anything to do with any stranger. Just use +what your judgment and common sense tell you is a reasonable degree of +caution in every direction no matter how trivial. You understand?” + +“I do,” said Linda promptly. “Would you prefer that we do not go on any +more Saturday trips at present?” + +The length of time that the Judge waited to answer proved that he had +taken time to think. + +“I can't see,” he said finally, “that you would not be safer on such a +trip where you are moving about, where no one knows who you are, than +you would where you are commonly found.” + +“All right then,” said Linda. “Ask the party we are considering and he +will tell you where he will be tomorrow. Thank you very much for letting +me know. If anything should occur, you will understand that it was +something quite out of my range of fore-sight.” + +“I understand,” said the Judge. + +With all care and many loving admonitions Katy assisted in the start +made early Saturday morning. The previous Saturday Linda had felt that +all nature along the road she planned to drive would be at its best, +but they had not gone far until she modified her decision. They were +slipping through mists of early morning, over level, carefully made +roads like pavilion floors. If any one objection could have been made, +it would have been that the mists of night were weighting too heavily to +earth the perfume from the blooming orchards and millions of flowers in +gardens and along the roadside. At that hour there were few cars abroad. +Linda was dressed in her outing suit of dark green. She had removed +her hat and slipped it on the seat beside her. She looked at Donald, a +whimsical expression on her most expressive young face. + +“Please to 'scuse me,” she said lightly, “if I step on the gas a mite +while we have the road so much to ourselves and are so familiar with +it. Later, when we reach stranger country and have to share with others, +we'll be forced to go slower.” + +“Don't stint your speed on account of me,” said Donald. “I am just +itching to know what Kitty can do.” + +“All right, here's your chance,” said Linda. “Hear her purr?” + +She settled her body a trifle tensely, squared her shoulders, and +gripped the steering wheel. Then she increased the gas and let the Bear +Cat roll over the smooth road from Lilac Valley running south into +Los Angeles. At a speed that was near to flying as a non-professional +attains, the youngsters traveled that road. Their eyes were shining; +their blood was racing. Until the point where rougher roads and +approaching traffic forced them to go slower, they raced, and when they +slowed down they looked at each other and laughed in morning delight. + +“I may not be very wise,” said Linda, “but didn't I do the smartest +thing when I let Eileen have the touring car and saved the Bear Cat for +us?” + +“Nothing short of inspiration,” said Donald. “The height of my ambition +is to own a Bear Cat. If Father makes any mention of anything I would +like particularly to have for a graduation present, I am cocked and +primed as to what I shall tell him.” + +“You'd better save yourself a disappointment,” said Linda soberly. “You +will be starting to college this fall, and when you do you will be gone +nine months out of the year, and I am fairly sure your father wouldn't +think shipping a Bear Cat back and forth a good investment, or +furnishing you one to take to school with you. He would fear you would +never make a grade that would be a credit to him if he did.” + +“My!” laughed Donald, “you've got a long head on your shoulders!” + +“When you're thrown on your own for four of the longest, lonesomest +years of your life, you learn to think,” said Linda soberly. + +She was touching the beginning of Los Angeles traffic. Later she was on +the open road again. The mists were thinning and lifting. The perfume +was not so heavy. The sheeted whiteness of the orange groves was broken +with the paler white of plum merging imperceptibly into the delicate +pink of apricot and the stronger pink of peach, and there were deep +green orchards of smooth waxen olive foliage and the lacy-leaved +walnuts. Then came the citrus orchards again, and all the way on either +hand running with them were almost uninterrupted miles of roses of every +color and kind, and everywhere homes ranging from friendly mansions, all +written over in adorable flower color with the happy invitation, “Come +in and make yourself at home,” to tiny bungalows along the wayside +crying welcome to this gay pair of youngsters in greetings fashioned +from white and purple wisteria, gold bignonia, every rose the world +knows, and myriad brilliant annual and perennial flower faces gathered +from the circumference of the tropical globe and homing enthusiastically +on the King's Highway. Sometimes Linda lifted her hand from the wheel +to wave a passing salute to a particularly appealing flower picture. +Sometimes she whistled a note or cried a greeting to a mockingbird, a +rosy finch, or a song sparrow. + +“Look at the pie timber!” she cried to Donald, calling his attention +to a lawn almost covered with red-winged blackbirds. “Four hundred and +twenty might be baked in that pie,” she laughed. + +Then a subtle change began to creep over the world. The sun peered over +the mountains inquiringly, a timid young thing, as if she were asking +what degree of light and warmth they would like for the day. A new +brilliancy tinged every flower face in this light, a throbbing ecstasy +mellowed every bird note; the orchards dropped farther apart, meadows +filled with grazing cattle flashed past them, the earthy scent of +freshly turned fields mingled with flower perfume, and on their right +came drifting in a cool salt breath from the sea. At mid-forenoon, as +they neared Laguna, they ran past great hills, untouched since the days +when David cried: “I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills from whence +cometh my help.” At one particularly beautiful range, draped with the +flowing emerald of spring, decorated with beds of gold poppy, set with +flowering madrona and manzanita, with the gold of yellow monkey flower +or the rich red of the related species, with specimens of lupin growing +in small trees, here and there adventurous streams singing and flashing +their unexpected way to the mother breast of the waiting ocean very +near to the road which at one surprising turn carried them to the +never-ending wonder of the troubled sea, they drove as slowly as +the Bear Cat would consent to travel, so that they might study great +boulders, huge as many of the buildings they had passed, their faces +scarred by the wrack of ages. Studying their ancient records one +could see that they had been familiar with the star that rested over +Bethlehem. On their faces had shone the same moon that opened the +highways Journeying into Damascus. They had stood the storms that had +beaten upon the world since the days when the floods subsided, the +land lifted above the face of the waters in gigantic upheavals that had +ripped the surface of the globe from north to south and forced up the +hills, the foothills, and the mountains of the Coast Range. They had +been born then, they had first seen the light of day, in glowing, +molten, red-hot, high-piled streams of lava that had gushed forth in +that awful evolution of birth. + +Sometimes Linda stopped the car, they left it, and climbed over the +faces of these mighty upheavals. Once Linda reached her hand to Donald +and cried, half laughingly, half in tense earnest: “Oh, kid, we have got +to hurry. Compared with the age of these, we've only a few minutes. It's +all right to talk jestingly about 'the crack of doom' but you know +there really was a crack of doom, and right here is where it cracked and +spewed out the material that hardened into these very rocks. Beside them +I feel as a shrimp must feel beside a whale, and I feel that we must +hurry.” + +“And so we must,” said Donald. “I'm hungry as Likeliest when he waited +for them to find enough peacock tongues to satisfy his appetite.” + +“I wonder what brand of home-brew made him think of that,” said Linda. + +“Well, you know,” said Donald, “the world was only a smallish place +then. They didn't have to go far to find everything to which they had +access, and it must have been rather a decent time in which to live. +Awful lot of light and color and music and unique entertainment.” + +“You're talking,” said Linda, “from the standpoint of the king or the +master. Suppose you had lived then and had been the slave.” + +“There you go again,” said Donald, “throwing a brick into the most +delicate mechanism of my profound thought. You ought to be ashamed to +round me up with something scientific and materialistic every time I go +a-glimmering. Don't you think this would be a fine place to have lunch?” + +“You wait and see where we lunch today, and you will have the answer to +that,” said Linda, starting back to the Bear Cat. + +A few miles farther on they followed the road around the frowning menace +of an overhanging rock and sped out directly to the panorama of the sea. +The sun was shining on it, but, as always round the Laguna shore, the +rip tide was working itself into undue fury. It came dashing up on the +ancient rocks until one could easily understand why a poet of long +ago wrote of sea horses. Some of the waves did suggest monstrous white +chargers racing madly to place their feet upon the solid rock. + +Through the village, up the steep inclines, past placid lakes, past +waving yellow mustard beds, beside highways where the breastplate of +Mother Earth gleamed emerald and ruby against the background of billions +of tiny, shining diamonds of the iceplant, past the old ostrich tree +reproduced by etchers of note the world over, with grinding brakes, +sliding down the breathless declivity leading to the shore, Linda +stopped at last where the rock walls lifted sheer almost to the sky. She +led Donald to a huge circle carpeted with cerise sand verbena, with +pink and yellow iceplant bloom, with jewelled iceplant foliage, with the +running blue of the lovely sea daisy, with the white and pink of the +sea fig, where the walls were festooned with ferns, lichens, studded all +over with flaming Our Lord's Candles, and strange, uncanny, grotesque +flower forms, almost human in their writhing turns as they twisted +around the rocks and slipped along clinging to the sheer walls. Just +where the vegetation met the white, sea-washed sand, Linda spread +the Indian blanket, and Donald brought the lunch box. At their feet +adventurous waves tore themselves to foam on the sharp rocks. On their +left they broke in booming spray, tearing and fretting the base of +cliffs that had stood impregnable through aeons of such ceaseless attack +and repulse. + +“I wonder,” said Donald, “how it comes that I have lived all my life in +California, and today it seems to me that most of the worthwhile things +I know about her I owe to you. When I go to college this winter the +things I shall be telling the boys will be how I could gain a living, if +I had to, on the desert, in Death Valley, from the walls of Multiflores +Canyon; and how the waves go to smash on the rocks of Laguna, not to +mention cactus fish hooks, mescal sticks, and brigand beefsteak. It's +no wonder the artists of all the world come here copying these pictures. +It's no wonder they build these bungalows and live here for years, +unsatisfied with their efforts to reproduce the pictures of the Master +Painter of them all.” + +“I wonder,” said Linda, “if anybody is very easily satisfied. I wonder +today if Eileen is satisfied with being merely rich. I wonder if we +are satisfied to have this golden day together. I wonder if the white +swallows are satisfied with the sea. I wonder if those rocks are +satisfied and proud to stand impregnable against the constant torment of +the tide.” + +“I wonder, oh, Lord, how I wonder,” broke in Donald, “about Katherine +O'Donovan's lunch box. If you want a picture of per feet satisfaction, +Belinda beloved, lead me to it!” + +“Thank heaven you're mistaken,” she said; “they spared me the 'Be'--. +It's truly just 'Linda.”' + +“Well, I'm not sparing you the 'Be--',” said Donald, busy with the +fastenings of the lunch basket. “Did you hear where I used it?” + +“Yes, child, and I like it heaps,” said Linda casually. “It's fine to +have you like me. Awfully proud of myself.” + +“You have two members of our family at your feet,” said Donald soberly +as he handed her packages from the box. “My dad is beginning to +discourse on you with such signs of intelligence that I am almost led +to believe, from some of his wildest outbursts, that he has had some +personal experience in some way.” + +“And why not?” asked Linda lightly. “Haven't I often told you that my +father constantly went on fishing and hunting trips, that he was a great +collector of botanical specimens, that he frequently took his friends +with him? You might ask your father if he does not recall me as having +fried fish and made coffee and rendered him camp service when I was a +slip of a thing in the dawn of my teens.” + +“Well, he didn't just mention it,” said Donald, “but I can easily see +how it might have been.” + +After they had finished one of Katy's inspired lunches, in which a large +part of the inspiration had been mental on Linda's part and executive on +Katy's, they climbed rock faces, skirted wave-beaten promontories, and +stood peering from overhanging cliffs dipping down into the fathomless +green sea, where the water boiled up in turbulent fury. Linda pointed +out the rocks upon which she would sit, if she were a mermaid, to comb +the seaweed from her hair. She could hear the sea bells ringing in those +menacing depths, but Donald's ears were not so finely tuned. At the top +of one of the highest cliffs they climbed, there grew a clump of slender +pale green bushes, towering high above their heads with exquisitely +cut blue-green leaves, lance shaped and slender. Donald looked at the +fascinating growth appraisingly. + +“Linda,” he said, “do you know that the slimness and the sheerness and +the audacious foothold and the beauty of that thing remind me of you? +It is covered all over with the delicate frostbloom you taught me to see +upon fruit. I find it everywhere but you have never told me what it is.” + +Linda laughingly reached up and broke a spray of greenish-yellow tubular +flowers, curving out like clustered trumpets spilling melody from their +fluted throats. + +“You will see it everywhere. You will find these flowers every month +of the year,” she said, “and I am particularly gladsome that this plant +reminds you of me. I love the bluish-green 'bloom' of its sheer foliage. +I love the music these flower trumpets make to me. I love the way it +has traveled, God knows how, all the way from the Argentine and spread +itself over our country wherever it is allowed footing. I am glad that +there is soothing in these dried leaves for those who require it. I +shall be delighted to set my seal on you with it. There are two little +Spanish words that it suggests to the Mexican--Buena moza--but you shall +find out for yourself what they mean.” + +Encountering his father that night at his library door, Donald Whiting +said to him: “May I come in, Dad? I have something I must look up before +I sleep. Have you a Spanish lexicon, or no doubt you have this in your +head.” + +“Well, I've a halting vocabulary,” said the Judge. “What's your phrase?” + +“Linda put this flower on me today,” said Donald, “and she said she was +pleased because I said the tall, slender bush it grew on reminded me +of her. She gave me the Spanish name, but I don't know the exact +significance of the decoration I am wearing until I learn the meaning of +the phrase.” + +“Try me on it,” said the Judge. + +“'Buena moza,'” quoted Donald. + +The Judge threw back his head and laughed heartily. + +“Son,” he said, “you should know that from the Latin you're learning. +You should translate it instinctively. I couldn't tell you exactly +whether a Spaniard would translate 'Buena' 'fine' or 'good.' Knowing +their high-falutin' rendition of almost everything else I would take my +chance on 'fine.' Son, your phrase means 'a fine girl.'” + +Donald looked down at the flower in his buttonhole, and then he looked +straight at his father. + +“And only the Lord knows, Dad,” he said soberly, “exactly how fine +Linda-girl is.” + + + +CHAPTER XXVI. A Mouse Nest + +LINDA DEAREST: + +I am delighted that you had such a wonderful birthday. I would take a +shot in air that anything you don't understand about it you might with +reasonable safety charge to Katherine O'Donovan. I think it was great +of her to have a suitable and a becoming dress waiting for you and a +congenial man like Peter Morrison to dine with you. He appealed to me as +being a rare character, highly original, and, I should think, to those +who know him well he must be entertaining and lovable in the extreme. +I never shall be worried about you so long as I know that he is taking +care of you. + +I should not be surprised if some day I meet Eileen somewhere, because +Dana and I are going about more than you would believe possible. I +heartily join with you in wishing her every good that life can bring +her. I don't want to be pessimistic, but I can't help feeling, Linda, +that she is taking a poor way to win the best, and I gravely doubt +whether she finds it in the spending of unlimited quantities of the +money of a coarse man who stumbled upon his riches accidentally, as has +many a man of California and Colorado. + +I intended, when I sat down to write, the very first thing I said, +to thank you for your wonderful invitation, seconded so loyally and +cordially by Katy, to make my home with you until the time comes--if it +ever does come--when I shall have a home of my own again. And just +as simply and wholeheartedly as you made the offer, I accept it. I am +enclosing the address and the receipt for my furniture in storage, and a +few lines ordering it delivered at your house and the bill sent to me. +I only kept a few heirlooms and things of Mother's and Father's that are +very precious to me. Whenever Eileen takes her things you can order mine +in and let me know, and I'll take a day or two off and run down for a +short visit. + +Mentioning Eileen makes me think of John. I think of him more frequently +than I intend or wish that I did, but I feel my ninth life is now +permanently extinguished concerning him. I thought I detected in your +letter, Linda dear, a hint of fear that he might come back to me and +that I might welcome him. If you have any such feeling in your heart, +abandon it, child, because, while I try not to talk about myself, I do +want to say that I rejoice in a family inheritance of legitimate pride. +I couldn't give the finest loyalty and comradeship I had to give to a +man, have it returned disdainfully, and then furbish up the pieces and +present it over again. If I can patch those same pieces and so polish +and refine them that I can make them, in the old phrase, “as good as +new,” possibly in time--but, Linda, one thing is certain as the hills +of morning. Never in my life will any man make any headway with me again +with vague suggestions and innuendoes and hints. If ever any man wants +to be anything in my life, he will speak plainly and say what he wants +and thinks and hopes and intends and feels in not more than two-syllable +English. I learned my lesson about the futility of building your house +of dreams on a foundation of sand. Next time I erect a dream house, it +is going to have a proper foundation of solid granite. And that may seem +a queer thing for me to say when you know that I am getting the joy in +my life, that I do not hesitate to admit I am, from letters written by a +man whose name I don't know. It may be that I don't know the man, but I +certainly am very well acquainted with him, and in some way he seems to +me to be taking on more definite form. I should not be surprised if I +were to recognize him the first time I met him face to face. + +Linda looked through the skylight and cried out to the stars: “Good +heavens! Have I copied Peter too closely?” + +She sat thinking a minute and then she decided she had not. + +And in this connection you will want to know how I am progressing in +my friendship with the junior partner, and what kind of motorist I am +making. I am still driving twice a week, and lately on Sundays in a +larger car, taking Dana and a newspaper friend of hers along. I think I +have driven every hazard that this part of California affords except the +mountains; Mr. Snow is still merciful about them. + +Linda dear, I know what you're dying to know. You want to know whether +Mr. Snow is in the same depths of mourning as when our acquaintance +first began. This, my dear child, is very reprehensible of you. Young +girls with braids down their backs--and by the way, Linda, you did not +tell me what happened “after the ball was over.” Did you go to school +the next morning with braids down your back, or wearing your coronet? +Because on that depends what I have to say to you now; if you went with +braids, you're still my little girl chum, the cleanest, finest kid I +have ever known; but if you wore your coronet, then you're a woman and +my equal and my dearest friend, far dearer than Dana even; and I tell +you this, Linda, because I want you always to understand that you come +first. + +I have tried and tried to visualize you, and can't satisfy my mind as to +whether the braids are up or down. Going on the assumption that they are +up, and that life may in the near future begin to hold some interesting +experiences for you, I will tell you this, beloved child: I don't think +Mr. Snow is mourning quite so deeply as he was. I have not been asked, +the last four or five trips we have been on, to carry an armload +of exquisite flowers to the shrine of a departed love. I have been +privileged to take them home and arrange them in my room and Dana's. And +I haven't heard so much talk about loneliness, and I haven't seen such +tired, sad eyes. It seems to me that a familiar pair of shoulders +are squaring up to the world again, and a very kind pair of eyes are +brighter with interest. I don't know how you feel about this; I don't +know how I feel about it myself. I am sure that Eugene Snow is a man +who, in the years to come, would line up beside your father and mine, +and I like him immensely. It is merely a case of not liking him +less, but of liking my unknown man more. I couldn't quite commit the +sacrilege, Linda dear, of sending you a sample of the letters I am +receiving, but they are too fanciful and charming for any words of mine +to describe adequately. I don't know who this man is, or what he has to +offer, or whether he intends to offer anything, but it is a ridiculous +fact, Linda, that I would rather sit with him in a chimney corner +of field boulders, on a pine floor, with a palm roof and an Ocotillo +candle, than to glow in the parchment-shielded electric light of the +halls of a rich man. In a recent letter, Linda, there was a reference +to a woman who wore “a diadem of crystallized light.” It was a beautiful +thing and I could not help taking it personally. It was his way of +telling me that he knew me, and knew my tragedy; and, as I said before, +I am beginning to feel that I have him rather definitely located; and I +can understand the fine strain in him that prompted his anonymity, and +his reasons for it. Of course I am not sufficiently confident yet to +say anything definite, but my heart is beginning to say things that I +sincerely hope my lips never will be forced to deny. + +Linda laid down the letter, folded her hands across it, and once more +looked at the stars. + +“Good gracious!” she said. “I am tincturing those letters with too +much Peter. I'll have to tone down a bit. Next thing I know she will +be losing her chance with that wonderful Snow man for a dream. In my +efforts to comfort her I must have gone too far. It is all right +to write a gushy love letter and stuff it full of Peter's whimsical +nonsense, but, in the language of the poet, how am I going to 'deliver +the goods'? Of course that talk about Louise Whiting was all well +enough. Equally, of course, I outlined and planted the brook and +designed the bridge for Marian, whether she knows it or Peter knows it, +or not. If they don't know it, it's about time they were finding it out. +I think it's my job to visit Peter more frequently and see if I can't +invent some way to make him see the light. I will give Katy a hint in +the morning. Tomorrow evening I'll go up and have supper with him and +see if he has another article in the stewpan. I like this work with +Peter. I like having him make me dream dreams and see pictures. I like +the punch and the virility he puts into my drawings. It's all right +reproducing monkey flowers and lilies for pastime, but for serious +business, for real life work, I would rather do Peter's brainstorming, +heart-thrilling pictures than my merely pretty ones. On the subject of +Peter, I must remember in the morning to take those old books he gave me +to Donald. I believe that from one of them he is going to get the very +material he needs to down the Jap in philosophy. And they are not text +books which proves that Peter must have been digging into the subject +and hunted them up in some second-hand store, or even sent away an order +for them.” + +In the hall the next morning Linda stopped Donald and gave him the +books. In the early stages of their friendship she had looked at him +under half-closed lids and waited to see whether he intended stopping to +say a word with her when they passed each other or came down the halls +together. She knew that their acquaintance would be noted and commented +upon, and she knew how ready the other girls would be to say that +she was bold and forward, so she was careful to let Donald make the +advances, until he had called to her so often, and had dug flowers and +left his friends waiting at her door while he delivered them, that +she felt free to address him as she chose. He had shown any interested +person in the high school that he was her friend, that he was speaking +to her exactly as he did to girls he had known from childhood. He was +very popular among the boys and girls of his class and the whole school. +His friendship, coming at the time of Linda's rebellion on the subject +of clothes, had developed a tendency to bring her other friendships. +Boys who never had known she was in existence followed Donald's example +in stopping her to say a word now and then. Girls who had politely +ignored her now found things to say; and several invitations she had +not had leisure to accept had been sent to her for afternoon and evening +entertainments among the young people. Linda had laid out for herself +something of a task in deciding to be the mental leader of her class. +There were good brains in plenty among the other pupils. It was only by +work, concentration, and purpose, only by having a mind keenly alert, +by independent investigation and introducing new points of view that she +could hold her prestige. Up to the receipt of her letter containing the +offer to publish her book she had been able rigorously to exclude from +her mind the personality and the undertakings of Jane Meredith. She was +Linda Strong in the high school and for an hour or two at her studies. +She was Jane Meredith over the desert, through the canyons, beside the +sea, in her Multiflores kitchen or in Katherine O'Donovan's. But this +book offer opened a new train of thought, a new series of plans. She +could see her way--thanks to her father she had the material in her mind +and the art in her finger tips--to materialize what she felt would be +even more attractive in book form than anything her editor had been able +to visualize from her material. She knew herself, she knew her territory +so minutely. Frequently she smiled when she read statements in her +botanies as to where plants and vegetables could be found. She knew the +high home of the rare and precious snow plant. She knew the northern +limit of the strawberry cactus. She knew where the white sea swallow +nested. She knew where the Monarch butterfly went on his winter +migration. She knew where the trap-door spider, with cunning past +the cunning of any other architect of Nature, built his small, round, +silken-lined tower and hinged his trap door so cleverly that only he +could open it from the outside. She had even sat immovable and watched +him erect his house, and she would have given much to see him weave its +silver lining. + +Linda was fast coming to the place where she felt herself to be one in +an interested group of fellow workers. She no longer gave a thought to +what kind of shoes she wore. Other girls were beginning to wear the +same kind. The legislatures of half a dozen states were passing +laws regulating the height of heel which might be worn within their +boundaries. Manufacturers were promising for the coming season that +suitable shoes would be built for street wear and mountain climbing, for +the sands of the sea and the sands of the desert, and the sheer face of +canyons. The extremely long, dirt-sweeping skirts were coming up; the +extremely short, immodest skirts were coming down. A sane and sensible +wave seemed to be sweeping the whole country. Under the impetus of +Donald Whiting's struggles to lead his classes and those of other +pupils to lead theirs a higher grade of scholarship was beginning to be +developed throughout the high school. Pupils were thinking less of what +they wore and how much amusement they could crowd in, and more about +making grades that would pass them with credit from year to year. The +horrors of the war and the disorders following it had begun to impress +upon the young brains growing into maturity the idea that soon it would +be their task to take over the problems that were now vexing the world's +greatest statesmen and its wisest and most courageous women. A tendency +was manifesting itself among young people to equip themselves to take a +worthy part in the struggles yet to come. Classmates who had looked with +toleration upon Linda's common-sense shoes and plain dresses because +she was her father's daughter, now looked upon her with respect and +appreciation because she started so many interesting subjects for +discussion, because she was so rapidly developing into a creature well +worth looking at. Always she would be unusual because of her extreme +height, her narrow eyes, her vivid coloring. But a greater maturity, a +fuller figure, had come to be a part of the vision with which one looked +at Linda. In these days no one saw her as she was. Even her schoolmates +had fallen into the habit of seeing her as she would be in the years to +come. + +Thus far she had been able to keep her identities apart without any +difficulty; but the book proposition was so unexpected, it was such a +big thing to result from her modest beginning, that Linda realized +that she must proceed very carefully, she must concentrate with all her +might, else her school work would begin to suffer in favor of the book. +Recently so many things had arisen to distract her attention. Many days +she had not been able to keep Eileen's face off her geometry papers; +and again she saw Gilman's, anxious and pain-filled. Sometimes she found +herself lifting her eyes from tasks upon which she was concentrating +with all her might, and with no previous thought whatever she was +searching for Donald Whiting, and when she saw him, coming into muscular +and healthful manhood, she returned to her work with more strength, +deeper vision, a quiet, assured feeling around her heart. Sometimes, +over the edge of Literature and Ancient History, Peter Morrison looked +down at her with gravely questioning eyes and dancing imps twisting his +mouth muscles, and Linda paused a second to figure upon what had become +an old problem with her. Why did her wild-flower garden make Peter +Morrison think of a graveyard? What was buried there besides the feet of +her rare flowers? She had not as yet found the answer. + +This day her thoughts were on Peter frequently because she intended to +see him that night. She was going to share with him a supper of baked +ham and beans and bread and butter and pickled onions and little nut +cakes, still warm from Katy's oven. She was going to take Katy with her +in order that she might see Peter Morrison's location and the house for +his dream lady, growing at the foot of the mountain like a gay orchid +homing on a forest tree. To Linda it was almost a miracle, the rapidity +with which a house could be erected in California. In a few weeks' time +she had seen a big cellar scooped out of the plateau, had seen it lined +and rising to foundation height above the surface in solid concrete, +faced outside with cracked boulders. She had seen a framework erected, +a rooftree set, and joists and rafters and beams swinging into place. +Fretworks of lead and iron pipe were running everywhere, and wires for +electricity. Soon shingles and flooring would be going into place, and +Peter said that when he had finished acrobatic performances on beams +and girders and really stepped out on solid floors where he might tread +without fear of breaking any of his legs, he would perform a Peacock +Dance all by himself. + +“Peter, you sound like a centipede,” said Linda. + +“Dear child,” said Peter, “when I enter my front door and get to the +back on two-inch footing, I positively feel that I have numerous legs, +and I ache almost as badly in the fear that I shall break the two I +have, as I should if they were really broken.” + +And then he added a few words on a subject of which he had not before +spoken to Linda. + +“It was like that in France. When we really got into the heat of things +and the work was actually being done, we were not afraid: we were too +busy; we were 'supermen.' The time when we were all legs and arms and +head, and all of them were being blown away wholesale was when the +shells whined over while we had a rest hour and were trying to sleep, +or in the cold, dim dawn when we stumbled out stiff, hungry, and sleepy. +It's not the REAL THING when it's really occurring that gets one. It's +the devils of imagination tormenting the soul. There is only one thing +in this world can happen to me that is really going to be as bad as the +things I dream.” + +Linda looked down Lilac Valley, her eyes absently focusing on Katy +busily setting supper on a store box in front of the garage. Then she +looked at Peter. + +“Mind telling?” she inquired lightly. + +Peter looked at her speculatively. + +“And would a man be telling his heart's best secret to a kid like you?” + he asked. + +“Now, I call that downright mean,” said Linda. “Haven't you noticed that +my braids are up? Don't you see a maturity and a dignity and a general +matronliness apparent all over me today?” + +“Matronliness” was too much for Peter. You could have heard his laugh +far down the blue valley. + +“That's good!” he cried. + +“It is,” agreed Linda. “It means that my braids are up to stay, so +hereafter I'm a real woman.” + +She lingered over the word an instant, glancing whimsically at Peter, +a trace of a smile on her lips, then she made her way down a slant +declivity and presently returned with an entire flower plant, new to +Peter and of unusual beauty. + +“And because I am a woman I shall set my seal upon you,” she said. + +In the buttonhole of his light linen coat she placed a flower of satin +face of purest gold, the five petals rounded, but sharply tipped, a +heavy mass of silk stamens, pollen dusted in the heart. She pushed back +the left side of his coat and taking one of the rough, hairy leaves +of the plant she located it over Peter's heart, her slim, deft fingers +patting down the leaf and flattening it out until it lay pasted smooth +and tight. As she worked, she smiled at him challengingly. Peter knew he +was experiencing a ceremony of some kind, the significance of which he +must learn. It was the first time Linda had voluntarily touched him. He +breathed lightly and held steady, lest he startle her. + +“Lovely enough,” he said, “to have come from the hills of the stars. +Don't make me wait, Linda; help me to the interpretation.” + +“Buena Mujer,” suggested Linda. + +“Good woman,” translated Peter. + +Linda nodded, running a finger down the leaf over his heart. + +“Because she sticks close to you,” she explained. Then startled by the +look in Peter's eyes, she cried in swift change: “Now we are all going +to work for a minute. Katy's spreading the lunch. You take this pail and +go to the spring for water and I shall tidy your quarters for you.” + +With the eye of experience Linda glanced over the garage deciding that +she must ask for clean sheets for the cot and that the Salvation Army +would like the heap of papers. Studying the writing table she heard a +faint sound that untrained ears would have missed. + +“Ah, ha, Ma wood mouse,” said Linda, “nibbling Peter's dr. goods are +you?” + +Her cry a minute later answered the question. She came from the garage +upon Katherine O'Donovan rushing to meet her, holding a man's coat at +the length of her far-reaching arm. + +“I wish you'd look at that pocket. I don't know how long this coat has +been hanging there, but there is a nest of field mice in it,” she said. + +Katy promptly retreated to the improvised dining table, seated herself +upon an end of it, and raised both feet straight into the air. + +“Small help I'll be getting from you,” said Linda laughingly. + +She went to the edge of the declivity that cut back to the garage and +with a quick movement reversed the coat catching it by the skirts and +shaking it vigorously. + + + +CHAPTER XXVII. The Straight and Narrow + +This served exactly the purpose Linda had intended. It dislodged +the mouse nest and dropped it three feet below her level, but it did +something else upon which Linda had no time to count. It emptied every +pocket in the coat and sent the contents scattering down the rough +declivity. + +“Oh my gracious!” gasped Linda. “Look what I have done! Katy, come help +me quickly; I have to gather up this stuff; but it's no use; I'll have +to take it to Peter and tell him. I couldn't put these things back in +the pockets where his hand will reach for them, because I don't know +which came from inside and which came from out.” + +Linda sprang down and began hastily gathering up everything she could +see that had fallen from the coat pockets. She had almost finished when +her fingers chanced upon a very soiled, befigured piece of paper whose +impressed folds showed that it had been carried for some time in an +inner pocket. As her fingers touched this paper her eyes narrowed, her +breath came in a gasp. She looked at it a second, irresolute, then she +glanced over the top of the declivity in the direction Peter had taken. +He was standing in front of the building, discussing some matter with +the contractor. He had not yet gone to the spring. Shielded by the +embankment with shaking fingers Linda opened the paper barely enough to +see that it was Marian's lost sheet of plans; but it was not as Marian +had lost it. It was scored deeply here and there with heavy lines +suggestive of alterations, and the margin was fairly covered with fine +figuring. Linda did not know Peter Morrison's writing or figures. His +articles had been typewritten and she had never seen his handwriting. +She sat down suddenly on account of weakened knees, and gazed unseeingly +down the length of Lilac Valley, her heart sick, her brain tormented. +Suddenly she turned and studied the house. + +“Before the Lord!” she gasped. “I THOUGHT there was something mighty +familiar even about the skeleton of you! Oh, Peter, Peter, where did you +get this, and how could you do it?” + +For a while a mist blurred her eyes. She reached for the coat and +started to replace the things she had gathered up, then she shut her +lips tight. + +“Best time to pull a tooth,” she said tersely to a terra cotta red +manzanita bush, “is when it aches.” + +When Peter returned from the spring he was faced by a trembling girl, +colorless and trying hard to keep her voice steady. She held out the +coat to him with one hand, the package of papers with the other, the +folded drawing conspicuous on the top. With these she gestured toward +the declivity. + +“Mouse nest in your pocket, Peter,” she said thickly. “Reversed the coat +to shake it out, and spilled your stuff.” + +Then she waited for Peter to be confounded. But Peter was not in the +faintest degree troubled about either the coat or the papers. What did +trouble him was the face and the blazing eyes of the girl concerning +whom he would not admit, even to himself, his exact state of feeling. + +“The mouse did not get on you, Linda?” he asked anxiously. + +Linda shook her head. Suddenly she lost her self-control. + +“Oh, Peter,” she wailed, “how could you do it?” + +Peter's lean frame tensed suddenly. + +“I don't understand, Linda,” he said quietly. “Exactly what have I +done?” + +Linda thrust the coat and the papers toward him accusingly and stood +there wordless but with visible pain in her dark eyes. peter smiled at +her reassuringly. + +“That's not my coat, you know. If there is anything distressing about +it, don't lay it to me.” + +“Oh, Peter!” cried Linda, “tell the truth about it. Don't try any +evasions. I am so sick of them.” + +A rather queer light sprang into Peter's eyes. He leaned forward +suddenly and caught the coat from Linda's fingers. + +“Well, if you need an alibi concerning this coat,” he said, “I think I +can furnish it speedily.” + +As he talked he whirled the garment around and shot his long arms into +the sleeves. Shaking it into place on his shoulders, he slowly turned in +front of Linda and the surprised Katy. The sleeves came halfway to his +wrists and the shoulders slid down over his upper arms. He made such a +quaint and ridiculous figure that Katy burst out laughing. She was very +well trained, but she knew Linda was deeply distressed. + +“Wake up, lambie!” she cried sharply. “That coat ain't belonging to +Mr. Pater Morrison. That gairment is the property of that bug-catchin' +architect of his.” + +Peter shook off the coat and handed it back to Linda. + +“Am I acquitted?” he asked lightly; but his surprised eyes were +searching her from braid to toe. + +Linda turned from him swiftly. She thrust the packet into a side pocket +and started to the garage with the coat. As she passed inside she +slipped down her hand, slid the sheet of plans from the other papers, +and slipped it into the front of her blouse. She hung the coat back +where she had found it, then suddenly sat down on the side of Peter +Morrison's couch, white and shaken. Peter thought he heard a peculiar +gasp and when he strayed past the door, casually glancing inward, he +saw what he saw, and it brought him to his knees beside Linda with all +speed. + +“Linda-girl,” he implored, “what in this world has happened?” + +Linda struggled to control her voice; but at last she buried her face +in her hands and frankly emitted a sound that she herself would have +described as “howling.” Peter knelt back in wonder. + +“Of all the things I ever thought about you, Linda,” he said, “the one +thing I never did think was that you were hysterical.” + +If there was one word in Linda's vocabulary more opprobrious than +“nerves,” which could be applied to a woman, it was “hysterics.” The +great specialist had admitted nerves; hysterics had no standing with +him. Linda herself had no more use for a hysterical woman than she had +for a Gila monster. She straightened suddenly, and in removing her hands +from her face she laid one on each of Peter's shoulders. + +“Oh, Peter,” she wailed, “I am not a hysterical idiot, but I couldn't +have stood it if that coat had been yours. Peter, I just couldn't have +borne it!” + +Peter held himself rigidly in the fear that he might disturb the hands +that were gripping him. + +“I see I have the job of educating these damned field mice as to where +they may build with impunity,” he said soberly. + +But Linda was not to be diverted. She looked straight and deep into his +eyes. + +“Peter,” she said affirmatively, “you don't know a thing about that +coat, do you?” + +“I do not,” said Peter promptly. + +“You never saw what was in its pockets, did you?” + +“Not to my knowledge,” answered Peter. “What was in the pockets, Linda?” + +Linda thought swiftly. Peter adored his dream house. If she told him +that the plans for it had been stolen by his architect, the house would +be ruined for Peter. Anyone could see from the candor of his gaze and +the lines that God and experience had graven on his face that Peter was +without guile. Suddenly Linda shot her hands past Peter's shoulders and +brought them together on the back of his neck. She drew his face against +hers and cried: “Oh Peter, I would have been killed if that coat had +been yours. I tell you I couldn't have endured it, Peter. I am just +tickled to death!” + +One instant she hugged him tight. If her lips did not brush his cheek, +Peter deluded himself. Then she sprang up and ran from the garage. +Later he took the coat from its nail, the papers from its pockets, and +carefully looked them over. There was nothing among them that would +give him the slightest clue to Linda's conduct. He looked again, +penetratingly, searchingly, for he must learn from them a reason; and +no reason was apparent. With the coat in one hand and the papers in the +other he stepped outside. + +“Linda,” he said, “won't you show me? Won't you tell me? What is there +about this to upset you?” + +Linda closed her lips and shook her head. Once more Peter sought in her +face, in her attitude the information he craved. + +“Needn't tell me,” he said, “that a girl who will face the desert and +the mountains and the canyons and the sea is upset by a mouse.” + +“Well, you should have seen Katy sitting in the midst of our supper with +her feet rigidly extended before her!” cried the girl, struggling to +regain her composure. “Put back that coat and come to your supper. It's +time for you to be fed now. The last workman has gone and we'll barely +have time to finish nicely and show Katy your dream house before it's +time to go.” + +Peter came and sat in the place Linda indicated. His mind was whirling. +There was something he did not understand, but in her own time, in her +own way, a girl of Linda's poise and self-possession would tell him what +had occurred that could be responsible for the very peculiar things +she had done. In some way she had experienced a shock too great for her +usual self-possession. The hands with which she fished pickled onions +from the bottle were still unsteady, and the corroboration Peter needed +for his thoughts could be found in the dazed way in which Katy watched +Linda as she hovered over her in serving her. But that was not the time. +By and by the time would come. The thing to do was to trust Linda and +await its coming. So Peter called on all the reserve wit and wisdom he +had at command. He jested, told stories, and to Linda's satisfaction and +Katy's delight, he ate his supper like a hungry man, frankly enjoying +it, and when the meal was finished Peter took Katy over the house, +explaining to her as much detail as was possible at that stage of its +construction, while Linda followed with mute lips and rebellion surging +in her heart. When leaving time came, while Katy packed the Bear +Cat, Linda wandered across toward the spring, and Peter, feeling +that possibly she might wish to speak with him, followed her. When he +overtook her she looked at him straightly, her eyes showing the hurt her +heart felt. + +“Peter,” she said, “that first night you had dinner with us, was Henry +Anderson out of your presence one minute from the time you came into the +house until you left it?” + +Peter stopped and studied the ground at his feet intently. Finally he +said conclusively: “I would go on oath, Linda, that he was not. We were +all together in the living room, all together in the dining room. We +left together at night and John was with us.” + +“I see,” said Linda. “Well, then, when you came back the next morning +after Eileen, before you started on your trip, to hunt a location, was +he with you all the time?” + +Again Peter took his time to answer. + +“We came to your house with Gilman,” he said. “John started to the front +door to tell Miss Eileen that we were ready. I followed him. Anderson +said he would look at the scenery. He must have made a circuit of the +house, because when we came out ready to start, a very few minutes +later, he was coming down the other side of the house.” + +“Ah,” said Linda comprehendingly. + +“Linda,” said Peter quietly, “it is very obvious that something has +worried you extremely. Am I in any way connected with it?” + +Linda shook her head. + +“Is there anything I can do?” + +The negative was repeated. Then she looked at him. + +“No, Peter,” she said quietly, “I confess I have had a shock, but it is +in no way connected with you and there is nothing you can do about it +but forget my foolishness. But I am glad--Peter, you will never know how +glad I am--that you haven't anything to do with it.” + +Then in the friendliest fashion imaginable she reached him her hand and +led the way back to the Bear Cat, their tightly gripped hands swinging +between them. As Peter closed the door he looked down on Linda. + +“Young woman,” he said, “since this country has as yet no nerve +specialist to take the place of your distinguished father, if you have +any waves to wave to me tonight, kindly do it before you start or after +you reach the highway. If you take your hands off that steering wheel as +you round the boulders and strike that declivity as I have seen you +do heretofore, I won't guarantee that I shall not require a specialist +myself.” + +Linda started to laugh, then she saw Peter's eyes and something in them +stopped her suddenly. + +“I did not realize that I was taking any risk,” she said. “I won't do it +again. I will say good-bye to you right here and now so I needn't look +back.” + +So she shook hands with Peter and drove away. Peter slowly followed +down the rough driveway, worn hard by the wheels of delivery trucks, and +stood upon the highest point of the rocky turn, looking after the small +gray car as it slid down the steep declivity. And he wondered if there +could have been telepathy in the longing with which he watched it go, +for at the level roadway that followed between the cultivated land +out to the highway Linda stopped the car, stood up in it, and turning, +looked back straight to the spot upon which Peter stood. She waved both +hands to him, and then gracefully and beautifully, with outstretched, +fluttering fingers she made him the sign of birds flying home. And with +the whimsy in his soul uppermost, Peter reflected, as he turned back for +a microscopic examination of Henry Anderson's coat and the contents of +its pockets, that there was one bird above all others which made +him think of Linda; but he could not at the moment feather Katherine +O'Donovan. And then he further reflected as he climbed the hill that +if it had to be done the best he could do would be a bantam hen +contemplating domesticity. + +Linda looked the garage over very carefully when she put away the Bear +Cat. When she closed the garage doors she was particular about the +locks. As she came through the kitchen she said to Katy, busy with the +lunch box: + +“Belovedest, have there been any strange Japs poking around here +lately?” + +She nearly collapsed when Katy answered promptly: + +“A dale too many of the square-headed haythens. I am pestered to death +with them. They used to come jist to water the lawn but now they want +to crane the rugs; they want to do the wash. They are willing to crane +house. They want to get into the garage; they insist on washing the car. +If they can't wash it they jist want to see if it nades washin'.” + +Linda stood amazed. + +“And how long has this been going on, Katy?” she finally asked. + +“Well, I have had two good months of it,” said Katy; “that is, it +started two months ago. The past month has been workin' up and the last +ten days it seemed to me they was a Jap on the back steps oftener than +they was a stray cat, and I ain't no truck with ayther of them. They +give me jist about the same falin'. Between the two I would trust the +cat a dale further with my bird than I would the Jap.” + +“Have you ever unlocked the garage for them, Katy?” asked Linda. + +“No,” said Katy. “I only go there when I nade something about me work.” + +“Well, Katy,” said Linda, “let me tell you this: the next time you go +there for anything take a good look for Japs before you open the door. +Get what you want and get out as quickly as possible and be sure, Katy, +desperately sure, that you lock the door securely when you leave.” + +Katy set her hands on her hips, flared her elbows, and lifted her chin. + +“What's any of them little haythen been coin' to scare ye, missy?” she +demanded belligerently. “Don't you think I'm afraid of them! Comes any +of them around me and I'll take my mopstick over the heads of them.” + +“And you'll break a perfectly good mopstick and not hurt the Jap when +you do it,” said Linda. “There's an undercurrent of something deep +and subtle going on in this country right now, Katy. When Japan sends +college professors to work in our kitchens and relatives of her greatest +statesmen to serve our tables, you can depend on it she is not doing +it for the money that is paid them. If California does not wake up very +shortly and very thoroughly she is going to pay an awful price for the +luxury she is experiencing while she pampers herself with the service +of the Japanese, just as the South has pampered herself for generations +with the service of the Negroes. When the Negroes learn what there is +to know, then the day of retribution will be at hand. And this is not +croaking, Katy. It is the truest gospel that was ever preached. Keep +your eyes wide open for Japs. Keep your doors locked, and if you see one +prowling around the garage and don't know what he is after, go to the +telephone and call the police.” + +Linda climbed the stairs to her workroom, plumped down at the table, set +her chin in her palms, and lost herself in thought. For half an hour +she sat immovable, staring at her caricature of Eileen through narrowed +lids. Then she opened the typewriter, inserted a sheet and wrote: + +MY DEAR Mr. SNOW: + +I am writing as the most intimate woman friend of Marian Thorne. As +such, I have spent much thought trying to figure out exactly the reason +for the decision in your recent architectural competition; why a man +should think of such a number of very personal, intimate touches that, +from familiarity with them, I know that Miss Thorne had incorporated in +her plans, and why his winning house should be her winning house, merely +reversed. + +Today I have found the answer, which I am forwarding to you, knowing +that you will understand exactly what should be done. Enclosed you will +find one of the first rough sketches Marian made of her plans. In +some mysterious manner it was lost on a night when your prize-winning +architect had dinner at our house where Miss Thorne was also a guest. +Before retiring she showed to me and explained the plans with which she +hoped to win your competition. In the morning I packed her suitcase and +handed it to the porter of her train. When she arrived at San Francisco +she found that the enclosed sheet was missing. + +This afternoon tidying a garage in which Mr. Peter Morrison, the author, +is living while Henry Anderson completes a residence he is building +for him near my home, I reversed a coat belonging to Henry Anderson +to dislodge from its pocket the nest of a field mouse. In so doing I +emptied all the pockets, and in gathering up their contents I found this +lost sheet from Marian's plans. + +I think nothing more need be said on my part save that I understood the +winning plan was to become the property of Nicholson and Snow. Without +waiting to see whether these plans would win or not, Henry Anderson has +them three fourths of the way materialized in Mr. Morrison's residence +in Lilac Valley which is a northwestern suburb of Los Angeles. + +You probably have heard Marian speak of me, and from her you may obtain +any information you might care to have concerning my responsibility. + +I am mailing the sketch to you rather than to Marian because I feel that +you are the party most deeply interested in a business way, and I hope, +too, that you will be interested in protecting my very dear friend from +the disagreeable parts of this very disagreeable situation. + +Very truly yours, + +LINDA STRONG. + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII. Putting It Up to Peter + +When Peter Morrison finally gave up looking in the pockets of Henry +Anderson's coat for enlightenment concerning Linda's conduct, it was +with his mind settled on one point. There was nothing in the coat now +that could possibly have startled the girl or annoyed her. Whatever had +been there that caused her extremely peculiar conduct she had carried +away with her. Peter had settled convictions concerning Linda. From the +first instant he had looked into her clear young eyes as she stood in +Multiflores Canyon triumphantly holding aloft the Cotyledon in one +hand and with the other struggling to induce the skirt of her blouse to +resume its proper location beneath the band of her trousers, he had felt +that her heart and her mind were as clear and cool and businesslike +as the energetic mountain stream hurrying past her. Above all others, +“straight” was the one adjective he probably would have applied to her. +Whatever she had taken from Henry's pockets was something that concerned +her. If she took anything, she had a right to take it; of that Peter +was unalterably certain. He remembered that a few days before she +practically had admitted to him that Anderson had annoyed her, and a +slow anger began to surge up in Peter's carefully regulated heart. His +thoughts were extremely busy, but the thing he thought most frequently +and most forcefully was that he would thoroughly enjoy taking Henry +Anderson by the scruff of the neck, leading him to the sheerest part of +his own particular share of the mountain, and exhaustively booting him +down it. + +“It takes these youngsters to rush in and raise the devil where there's +no necessity for anything to happen if just a modicum of common sense +had been used,” growled Peter. + +He mulled over the problem for several days, and then he decided he +should see Linda, and with his first look into her straight-forward +eyes, from the tones of her voice and the carriage of her head he would +know whether the annoyance persisted. About the customary time for her +to return from school Peter started on foot down the short cut between +his home and the Strong residence. He was following a footpath rounding +the base of the mountain, crossing and recrossing the enthusiastic +mountain stream as it speeded toward the valley, when a flash of color +on the farther side of the brook attracted him. He stopped, then hastily +sprang across the water, climbed a few yards, and, after skirting a +heavy clump of bushes, looked at Linda sitting beside them--a most +astonishing Linda, appearing small and humble, very much tucked away, +unrestrained tears rolling down her cheeks, a wet handkerchief wadded +in one hand, a packet of letters in her lap. A long instant they studied +each other. + +“Am I intruding?” inquired Peter at last. + +Linda shook her head vigorously and gulped down a sob. + +“No, Peter,” she sobbed, “I had come this far on my way to you when my +courage gave out.” + +Peter rearranged the immediate landscape and seated himself beside +Linda. + +“Now stop distressing yourself,” he said authoritatively. “You +youngsters do take life so seriously. The only thing that could have +happened to you worth your shedding a tear over can't possibly have +happened; so stop this waste of good material. Tears are very precious +things, Linda. They ought to be the most unusual things in life. Now +tell me something. Were you coming to me about that matter that worried +you the other evening?” + +Linda shook her head. + +“No,” she said, “I have turned that matter over where it belongs. I have +nothing further to do with it. I'll confess to you I took a paper from +among those that fell from Henry Anderson's pocket. It was not his. He +had no right to have it. He couldn't possibly have come by it honorably +or without knowing what it was. I took the liberty to put it where it +belongs, or at least where it seemed to me that it belongs. That is all +over.” + +“Then something else has happened?” asked Peter. “Something connected +with the package of letters in your lap?” + +Linda nodded vigorously. + +“Peter, I have done something perfectly awful,” she confessed. “I never +in this world meant to do it. I wouldn't have done it for anything. I +have got myself into the dreadfullest mess, and I don't know how to get +out. When I couldn't stand it another minute I started right to you, +Peter, just like I'd have started to my father if I'd had him to go to.” + +“I see,” said Peter, deeply interested in the toe of his shoe. “You +depended on my age and worldly experience and my unconcealed devotion to +your interests, which is exactly what you should do, my dear. Now tell +me. Dry your eyes and tell me, and whatever it is I'll fix it all right +and happily for you. I'll swear to do it if you want me to.” + +Then Linda raised her eyes to his face. + +“Oh, Peter, you dear!” she cried. “Peter, I'll just kneel and kiss your +hands if you can fix this for me.” + +Peter set his jaws and continued his meditations on shoe leather. + +“Make it snappy!” he said tersely. “The sooner your troubles are out of +your system the better you'll feel. Whose letters are those, and why are +you crying over them?” + +“Oh, Peter,” quavered Linda, “you know how I love Marian. You have seen +her and I have told you over and over.” + +“Yes,” said Peter soothingly, “I know.” + +“I have told you how, after years of devotion to Marian, John Gilman let +Eileen make a perfect rag of him and tie him into any kind of knot she +chose. Peter, when Marian left here she had lost everything on earth but +a little dab of money. She had lost a father who was fine enough to be +my father's best friend. She had lost a mother who was fine enough to +rear Marian to what she is. She had lost them in a horrible way that +left her room for a million fancies and regrets: 'if I had done this,' +or 'if I had done that,' or 'if I had taken another road.' And when she +went away she knew definitely she had lost the first and only love of +her heart; and I knew, because she was so sensitive and so fine, I knew, +better than anybody living, how she COULD be hurt; and I thought if I +could fix some scheme that would entertain her and take her mind off +herself and make her feel appreciated only for a little while--I knew in +all reason, Peter, when she got out in the world where men would see her +and see how beautiful and fine she is, there would be somebody who would +want her quickly. All the time I have thought that when she came back, +YOU would want her. Peter, I fibbed when I said I was setting your +brook for Louise Whiting. I was not. I don't know Louise Whiting. She is +nothing to me. I was setting it for you and Marian. It was a WHITE head +I saw among the iris marching down your creek bank, not a gold one, +Peter.” + +Peter licked his dry lips and found it impossible to look at Linda. + +“Straight ahead with it,” he said gravely. “What did you do?” + +“Oh, I have done the awfullest thing,” wailed Linda, “the most +unforgivable thing!” + +She reached across and laid hold of the hand next her, and realizing +that she needed it for strength and support, Peter gave it into her +keeping. + +“Yes?” he questioned. “Get on with it, Linda. What was it you did?” + +“I had a typewriter: I could. I began writing her letters, the kind of +letters that I thought would interest her and make her feel loved and +appreciated.” + +“You didn't sign my name to them, did you, Linda?” asked Peter in a dry, +breathless voice. + +“No, Peter,” said Linda, “I did not do that, I did worse. Oh, I did a +whole lot worse!” + +“I don't understand,” said Peter hoarsely. + +“I wanted to make them fine. I wanted to make them brilliant. I wanted +to make them interesting. And of course I could not do it by myself. I +am nothing but a copycat. I just quoted a lot of things I had heard you +say; and I did worse than that, Peter. I watched the little whimsy lines +around your mouth and I tried to interpret the perfectly lovely things +they would make you say to a woman if you loved her and were building a +dream house for her. And oh, Peter, it's too ghastly; I don't believe I +can tell you.” + +“This is pretty serious business, Linda,” said Peter gravely. “Having +gone this far you are in honor bound to finish. It would not be fair to +leave me with half a truth. What is the result of this impersonation?” + +“Oh, Peter,” sobbed Linda, breaking down again, “you're going to hate +me; I know you're going to hate me and Marian's going to hate me; and I +didn't mean a thing but the kindest thing in all the world.” + +“Don't talk like that, Linda,” said Peter. “If your friend is all you +say she is, she is bound to understand. And as for me, I am not very +likely to misjudge you. But be quick about it. What did you do, Linda?” + +“Why, I just wrote these letters that I am telling you about,” said +Linda, “and I said the things that I thought would comfort her and +entertain her and help with her work; and these are the answers that +she wrote me, and I don't think I realized till last night that she +was truly attributing them to any one man, truly believing in them. Oh, +Peter, I wasn't asleep a minute all last night, and for the first time I +failed in my lessons today.” + +“And what is the culmination, Linda?” urged Peter. + +“She liked the letters, Peter. They meant all I intended them to and +they must have meant something I never could have imagined. And in San +Francisco one of the firm where she studies--a very fine man she says he +is, Peter; I can see that in every way he would be quite right for her; +and I had a letter from her last night, and, Peter, he had asked her to +marry him, to have a lifelong chance at work she's crazy about. He +had offered her a beautiful home with everything that great wealth and +culture and good taste could afford. He had offered her the mothering of +his little daughter; and she refused him, Peter, refused him because she +is in love, with all the love there is left in her disappointed, hurt +heart, with the personality that these letters represent to her; and +that personality is yours, Peter. I stole it from you. I copied it into +those letters. I'm not straight. I'm not fair. I wasn't honest with her. +I wasn't honest with you. I'll just have to take off front the top of +the highest mountain or sink in the deepest place in the sea, Peter. +I thought I was straight. I thought I was honorable I have made Donald +believe that I was. If I have to tell him the truth about this he won't +want to wear my flower any more. I shall know all the things that Marian +has suffered, and a thousand times worse, because she was not to blame; +she had nothing with which to reproach herself.” + +Peter put an arm across Linda's shoulders and drew her up to him. For a +long, bitter moment he thought deeply, and then he said hoarsely: “Now +calm down, Linda. You're making an extremely high mountain out of an +extremely shallow gopher hole. You haven't done anything irreparable. +I see the whole situation. You are sure your friend has finally refused +this offer she has had on account of these letters you have written?” + +Suddenly Linda relaxed. She leaned her warm young body against Peter. +She laid her tired head on his shoulder. She slipped the top letter of +the packet in her lap from under its band, opened it, and held it before +him. Peter read it very deliberately, then he nodded in acquiescence. + +“It's all too evident,” he said quietly, “that you have taught her that +there is a man in this world more to her liking than John Gilman ever +has been. When it came to materializing the man, Linda, what was your +idea? Were you proposing to deliver me?” + +“I thought it would be suitable and you would be perfectly happy,” + sobbed Linda, “and that way I could have both of you.” + +“And Donald also?” asked Peter lightly. + +“Donald of course,” assented Linda. + +And then she lifted her tear-spilling, wonderful eyes, wide open, to +Peter's, and demanded: “But, oh Peter, I am so miserable I am almost +dead. I have said you were a rock, and you are a rock. peter, can you +get me out of this?” + +“Sure,” said Peter grimly. “Merely a case of living up to your blue +china, even if it happens to be in the form of hieroglyphics instead of +baked pottery. Give me the letters, Linda. Give me a few days to study +them. Exchange typewriters with me so I can have the same machine. Give +me some of the paper on which you have been writing and the address you +have been using, and I'll guarantee to get you out of this in some way +that will leave you Donald, and your friendship with Marian quite as +good as new.” + +At that juncture Peter might have been kissed, but his neck was very +stiff and his head was very high and his eyes were on a far-distant +hilltop from which at that minute he could not seem to gather any +particular help. + +“Would it be your idea,” he said, “that by reading these letters I could +gain sufficient knowledge of what has passed to go on with this?” + +“Of course you could,” said Linda. + +Peter reached in his side pocket and pulled out a clean handkerchief. +He shook it from its folds and dried her eyes. Then he took her by her +shoulders and set her up straight. + +“Now stop this nerve strain and this foolishness,” he said tersely. +“You have done a very wonderful thing for me. It is barely possible that +Marian Thorne is not my dream woman, but we can't always have our dreams +in this world, and if I could not have mine, truly and candidly, Linda, +so far as I have lived my life, I would rather have Marian Thorne than +any other woman I have ever met.” + +Linda clapped her hands in delight. + +“Oh, goody goody, Peter!” she cried. “How joyous! Can it be possible +that my bungling is coming out right for Marian and right for you?” + +“And right for you, Linda?” inquired Peter lightly. + +“Sure, right for me,” said Linda eagerly. “Of course it's right for me +when it's right for you and Marian. And since it's not my secret alone +I don't think it would be quite honorable to tell Donald about it. What +hurts Marian's heart or heals it is none of his business. He doesn't +even know her.” + +“All right then, Linda,” said Peter, rising, “give me the letters and +bring me the machine and the paper. Give me the joyous details and tell +me when I am expected to send in my first letter in propria persona?” + +“Oh, Peter,” cried Linda, beaming on him, “oh, Peter, you are a rock! I +do put my trust in you.” + +“Then God help me,” said Peter, “for whatever happens, your trust in me +shall not be betrayed, Linda.” + + + +CHAPTER XXIX. Katy Unburdens Her Mind + +Possibly because she wished to eliminate herself from the offices of +Nicholson and Snow for a few days, possibly because her finely attuned +nature felt the call, Marian Thorne boarded a train that carried her to +Los Angeles. She stepped from it at ten o'clock in the morning, and by +the streetcar route made her way to Lilac Valley. When she arrived she +realized that she could not see Linda before, possibly, three in the +afternoon. She entered a restaurant, had a small lunch box packed, +and leaving her dressing case, she set off down the valley toward +the mountains. She had need of their strength, their quiet and their +healing. To the one particular spot where she had found comfort in Lilac +Valley her feet led her. By paths of her own, much overgrown for want +of recent usage, she passed through the cultivated fields, left the +roadway, and began to climb. When she reached the stream flowing down +the rugged hillside, she stopped to rest for a while, and her mind was +in a tumult. In one minute she was seeing the bitterly disappointed face +of a lonely, sensitive man whose first wound had been reopened by the +making of another possibly quite as deep; and at the next her heart was +throbbing because Linda had succeeded in transferring the living Peter +to paper. + +The time had come when Marian felt that she would know the personality +embodied in the letters she had been receiving; and in the past few +days her mind had been fixing tenaciously upon Peter Morrison. And the +feeling concerning which she had written Linda had taken possession of +her. Wealth did not matter; position did not matter. Losing the love of +a good man did not matter But the mind and the heart and the personality +behind the letters she had been receiving did matter. She thought long +and seriously When at last she arose she had arrived at the conclusion +that she had done the right thing, no matter whether the wonderful +letters she had received went on and offered her love or not, no matter +about anything. She must merely live and do the best she could, until +the writer of those letters chose to disclose himself and say what +purpose he had in mind when he wrote them. + +So Marian followed her own path beside the creek until she neared its +head, which was a big, gushing icy spring at the foot of the mountain +keeping watch over the small plateau that in her heart she had thought +of as hers for years. As she neared the location strange sounds began to +reach her, voices of men, clanging of hammers, the rip of saws. A look +of deep consternation overspread her face. She listened an instant and +then began to run. When she broke through the rank foliage flourishing +from the waters of the spring and looked out on the plateau what she saw +was Peter Morrison's house in the process of being floored and shingled. +For a minute Marian was physically ill. Her heart hurt until her hand +crept to her side in an effort to soothe it. Before she asked the +question of a man coming to the spring with a pail in his hand, she +knew the answer. It was Peter Morrison's house. Marian sprang across the +brook, climbed to the temporary roadway, and walked down in front of the +building. She stood looking at it intently. It was in a rough stage, but +much disguise is needed to prevent a mother from knowing her own child. +Marian's dark eyes began to widen and to blaze. She walked up to the +front of the house and found that rough flooring had been laid so that +she could go over the first floor. When she had done this she left the +back door a deeply indignant woman. + +“There is some connection,” she told herself tersely, “between my lost +sketch and this house, which is merely a left-to-right rehearsal of +my plans; and it's the same plan with which Henry Anderson won the +Nicholson and Snow prize money and the still more valuable honor of +being the prize winner. What I want to know is how such a wrong may be +righted, and what Peter Morrison has to do with it.” + +Stepping from the back door, Marian followed the well-worn pathway +that led to the garage, looking right and left for Peter, and she was +wondering what she would say to him if she met him. She was thinking +that perhaps she had better return to San Francisco and talk the matter +over with Mr. Snow before she said anything to anyone else; by this time +she had reached the garage and stood in its wide-open door. She looked +in at the cot, left just as someone had arisen from it, at the row of +clothing hanging on a rough wooden rack at the back, at the piled boxes, +at the big table, knocked together from rough lumber, in the center, +scattered and piled with books and magazines; and then her eyes fixed +intently on a packet lying on the table beside a typewriter and a stack +of paper and envelopes. She walked over and picked up the packet. As she +had known the instant she saw them, they were her letters. She stood +an instant holding them in her hand, a dazed expression on her face. +Mechanically she reached out and laid her hands on the closed typewriter +to steady herself. Something about it appealed to her as familiar. +She looked at it closely, then she lifted the cover and examined the +machine. It was the same machine that had stood for years in Doctor +Strong's library, a machine upon which she had typed business letters +for her own father, and sometimes she had copied lectures and book +manuscript on it for Doctor Strong. Until his house was completed and +his belongings arrived, Peter undoubtedly had borrowed it. Suddenly a +wild desire to escape swept over Marian. Her first thought was of her +feelings. She was angry, and justly so. In her heart she had begun to +feel that the letters she was receiving were from Peter Morrison. Here +was the proof. + +Could it be possible that in their one meeting Peter had decided that +she was his dream woman, that in some way he had secured that rough +sketch of her plans, and from them was preparing her dream house for +her? The thought sped through her brain that he was something more +than human to have secured those plans, to have found that secluded and +choice location. For an instant she forgot the loss of the competition +in trying to comprehend the wonder of finding her own particular house +fitting her own particular location as naturally as one of its big +boulders. + +She tried to replace the package of letters exactly as she had found +them. On tiptoe she slipped back to the door and looked searchingly down +the road, around, and as far as possible through the house. Then she +gathered her skirts, stepped from the garage, and began the process +of effacing herself on the mountain side From clump to clump of the +thickest bushes, crouching below the sage and greasewood, pausing to +rest behind lilac and elder, without regard for her traveling suit or +her beautifully shod feet, Marian fled from her location. When at last +she felt that she was completely hidden and at least a mile from the +spot, she dropped panting on a boulder, brushing the debris from her +skirts, lifting trembling hands to straighten her hat, and ruefully +contemplating her shoes. Then she tried to think in a calm, +dispassionate, and reasonable manner, but she found it a most difficult +process. Her mind was not well ordered, neither was it at her +command. It whirled and shot off at unexpected tangents and danced as +irresponsibly as a grasshopper from one place to another. The flying +leaps it took ranged from San Francisco to Lilac Valley, from her +location upon which Peter Morrison was building her house, to Linda. +Even John Gilman obtruded himself once more. At one minute she was +experiencing a raging indignation against Henry Anderson. How had he +secured her plan? At another she was trying to figure dispassionately +what connection Peter Morrison could have had with the building of his +house upon her plan. Every time Peter came into the equation her heart +arose in his defense. In some way his share in the proceeding was all +right. He had cared for her and he had done what he thought would please +her. Therefore she must be pleased, although forced to admit to herself +that she would have been infinitely more pleased to have built her own +house in her own way. + +She was hungry to see Linda. She wanted Katherine O'Donovan to feed her +and fuss over her and entertain her with her mellow Irish brogue; but if +she went to them and disclosed her presence in the valley, Peter would +know about it, and if he intended the building he was erecting as a +wonderful surprise for her, then she must not spoil his joy. Plan in any +way she could, Marian could see no course left to her other than to slip +back to the station and return to San Francisco without meeting any +of her friends. She hurriedly ate her lunch, again straightened her +clothing, went to the restaurant for her traveling bag, and took the car +for the station where she waited for a return train to San Francisco She +bought a paper and tried to concentrate upon it in an effort to take her +mind from her own problems so that, when she returned to them, she would +be better able to think clearly, to reason justly, to act wisely. +She was very glad when her train came and she was started on her way +northward. At the first siding upon which it stopped to allow the +passing of a south-bound limited, she was certain that as the cars +flashed by, in one of them she saw Eugene Snow. She was so certain that +when she reached the city she immediately called the office and asked +for Mr. Snow only to be told that he had gone away for a day or two +on business. After that Marian's thought was confused to the point of +exasperation. + +It would be difficult to explain precisely the state of mind in which +Linda, upon arriving at her home that afternoon, received from Katy the +information that a man named Snow had been waiting an hour for her in +the living room. Linda's appearance was that of a person so astonished +that Katy sidled up to her giving strong evidence of being ready to +bristle. + +“Ye know, lambie,” she said with elaborate indifference, “ye aren't +havin' to see anybody ye don't want to. If it's somebody intrudin' +himself on ye, just say the word and I'll fire him; higher than +Guilderoy's kite I'll be firin' him.” + +“No, I must see him, Katy,” said Linda quietly. “And have something +specially nice for dinner. Very likely I'll take him to see Peter +Morrison's house and possibly I'll ask him and Peter to dinner. He is +a San Francisco architect from the firm where Marian takes her lessons, +and it's business about Peter's house. I was surprised, that's all.” + +Then Linda turned and laid a hand on each of Katy's hairy red arms. + +“Katherine O'Donovan, old dear,” she said, “if we do come back for +dinner, concentrate on Mr. Snow and study him. Scrutinize, Katy! It's +a bully word. Scrutinize closely. To add one more to our long lists of +secrets, here's another. He's the man I told you about who has asked +Marian to marry him, and Marian has refused him probably because she +prefers somebody nearer home.” + +Then Linda felt the tensing of every muscle in Katy's body. She saw the +lift of her head, the incredulous, resentful look in her eyes. There was +frank hostility in her tone. + +“Well, who is there nearer home that Marian knows?” she demanded +belligerently. + +“Well, now, who would there be?” retorted Linda. + +“Ye ain't manin' John Gilman?” asked Katy. + +“No,” said Linda, “I am not meaning John Gilman. You should know Marian +well enough to know that.” + +“Well, ye ought to know yourself well enough to know that they ain't +anybody else around these diggin's that Marian Thorne's going to get,” + said Katy. + +“I imagine Marian will get pretty much whom she wants,” said Linda +laughingly. “In your heart, Katy, you know that Marian need not have +lost John Gilman if she had not deliberately let him go. If she had been +willing to meet Eileen on her own ground and to play the game with +her, it wouldn't have happened. Marian has more brains in a minute than +Eileen has in a month.” + +When Linda drew back the portiere and stepped into the living room +Eugene Snow rose to meet her. What either of them expected it might +be difficult to explain. Knowing so little of each other, it is very +possible that they had no visualizations. What Snow saw was what +everyone saw who looked at Linda--a girl arrestingly unusual. With +Linda lay the advantage by far, since she had Marian's letters for a +background. What she saw was a tall man, slender, and about him there +was to Linda a strong appeal. As she looked into his eyes, she could +feel the double hurt that Fate had dealt him. She thought she could +fathom the fineness in his nature that had led him to made home-building +his chosen occupation. Instantly she liked him. With only one look deep +into his eyes she was on his side. She stretched out both her hands and +advanced. + +“Now isn't this the finest thing of you?” she said. “I am so glad that +you came. I'll tell you word for word what happened here.” + +“That will be fine,” he said. “Which is your favorite chair?” + +“You know,” she said, “that is a joke. I am so unfamiliar with this room +that I haven't any favorite chair. I'll have to take the nearest, like +Thoreau selected his piece of chicken.” + +Then for a few minutes Linda talked frankly. She answered Eugene +Snow's every question unhesitatingly and comprehensively. Together they +ascended the stairs, and in the guest room she showed him the table +at which she and Marian had studied the sketches of plans, and exactly +where they had left them lying overnight. + +“The one thing I can't be explicit about,” said Linda, “is how many +sheets were there in the morning. We had stayed awake so late talking, +that we overslept. I packed Marian's bag while she dressed. I snatched +up what there were without realizing whether there were two sheets or +three, laid them in the flat bottom of the case, and folded her clothing +on top of them.” + +“I see,” said Mr. Snow comprehendingly. “Now let's experiment a little. +Of course the window before that table was raised?” + +“Yes, it was,” said Linda, “but every window in the house is screened.” + +“And what about the door opening into the hall? Can you tell me whether +it was closed or open?” + +“It was open,” said Linda. “We left it slightly ajar to create a draft; +the night was warm.” + +“Is there anyone about the house,” inquired Mr. Snow, “who could tell us +certainly whether that window was screened that night?” + +“Of course,” said Linda. “Our housekeeper, Katherine O'Donovan, would +know. When we go down we'll ask her.” + +On their return to the living room, for the first time in her life Linda +rang for Katy. She hesitated an instant before she did it. It would be +establishing a relationship that never before had existed between them. +She always had gone to Katy as she would have, gone to her mother. She +would have gone to her now, but she wanted Katy to make her appearance +and give her information without the possibility of previous discussion. +Katy answered the bell almost at once. Linda went to her side and +reached her arm across her shoulders. + +“Katy,” she said, “this is Mr. Eugene Snow of San Francisco He is +interested in finding out exactly what became of that lost plan of +Marian's that we have looked for so carefully. Put on your thinking cap, +old dear, and try to answer accurately any question that Mr. Snow may +wish to ask you.” + +Katy looked expectantly at Eugene Snow. + +“In the meantime,” said Linda, “I'll be excused and go bring round the +Bear Cat.” + +“I have only one question to ask you,” said Mr. Snow. “Can you recall +whether, for any reason, there was a screen out of the guest-room window +directly in front of which the reading table was standing the night Miss +Marian occupied the room before leaving for San Francisco?” + +“Sure there was,” answered Katy instantly in her richest, mellowest +brogue. + +She was taking the inventory she had been told to take. She was +deciding, as instantly as Linda had done, that she liked this man. +Years, appearance, everything about him appealed to Katy as being +exactly right for Marian; and her cunning Irish mind was leaping and +flying and tugging at the leash that thirty years of conventions had +bound upon her. + +“Sure,” she repeated, “the wildest santana that ever roared over us just +caught that screen and landed it slam against the side of the garage, +and it set inside for three days till I could get a workman to go up +the outside and put it back. It had been out two days before the night +Marian was here.” + +“Did Miss Linda know about it?” asked Snow. + +“Not that I know of,” said Katy. “She is a schoolgirl, you know, off +early in the morning, back and up to her room, the busiest youngster the +valley knows; and coin' a dale of good she is, too. It was Miss Eileen +that heard the screen ripped out and told me it was gone. She's the one +who looked after the housekapin' and paid the bills. She knew all about +it. If 'twould be helpin' Miss Marian any about findin' them plans we've +ransacked the premises for, I couldn't see any reason why Miss Eileen +wouldn't tell ye the same as I'm tellin' ye, and her housekapin' +accounts and her cheque book would show she paid the carpenter, if it's +legal business you're wantin'.” + +“Thank you, Katy,” said Mr. Snow. “I hope nothing of that kind will +occur. A great wrong has been perpetrated, but we must find some way +to right it without involving such extremely nice young women in the +annoyance of legal proceedings.” + +Katy folded her arms and raised her head. All her share of the blarney +of Ireland began to roll from the mellow tip of her tongue. + +“Now, the nice man ye are, to be seein' the beauty of them girls so +quick,” she said. “The good Lord airly in the mornin' of creation +thought them out when He was jist fresh from rist, and the material was +none shopworn. They ain't ladies like 'em anywhere else in the whole of +California, and belave me, a many rale ladies have I seen in my time. +Ye can jist make up your mind that Miss Linda is the broth of the earth. +She is her father's own child and she is like him as two pase in the +pod. And Marian growed beside her, and much of a hand I've had in her +raisin' meself, and well I'm knowin' how fine she is and what a juel +she'd be, set on any man's hearthstone. I'm wonderin',” said Katy +challengingly, “if you're the Mr. Snow at whose place she is takin' her +lessons, and if ye are, I'm wonderin' if ye ain't goin' to use the good +judgment to set her, like the juel she would be, in the stone of your +own hearth.” + +Eugene Snow looked at Katy intently. He was not accustomed to discussing +his affairs with household helpers, but he could not look at Katy +without there remaining in his vision the forte of Linda standing beside +her, a reassuring arm stretched across her shoulders, the manner in +which she had presented her and then left her that she might be free +to answer as she chose with out her young mistress even knowing exactly +what was asked of her. Such faith and trust and love were unusual. + +“I might try to do that very thing,” he said, “but, you know, a +wonderful woman is an animated jewel. You can't manufacture a setting +and put her in and tighten the clasps without her consent.” + +“Then why don't you get it?” said Katy casually. + +Eugene Snow laughed ruefully. + +“But suppose,” he said, “that the particular jewel you're discussing +prefers to select her own setting, and mine does not please her.” + +“Well, they's jist one thing,” said Katy. Her heels left the floor +involuntarily; she arose on her tiptoes; her shoulders came up, and +her head lifted to a height it never had known before. “They's jist one +thing,” she said. “Aside from Miss Linda, who is my very own child that +I have washed and I have combed and I have done for since she was a +toddlin' four-year-old, they ain't no woman in this world I would go +as far for as I would for Miss Marian; but I'm tellin' ye now, ye Mr. +Eujane Snow, that they's one thing I don't lend no countenance to. I am +sorry she has had the cold, cruel luck that she has, but I ain't sorry +enough that I'm goin' to stand for her droppin' herself into the place +where she doesn't belong. If the good Lord ain't give her the sense to +see that you're jist the image of the man that would be jist exactly +right for her, somebody had better be tellin' her so. Anyway, if Miss +Linda is takin' ye up to the house that Mr. Pater Morrison is buildin' +and the Pater man is there, I would advise ye to cast your most +discernin' eye on that gintleman. Ye watch him jist one minute when he +looks at the young missus and he thinks nobody ain't observing him, and +ye'll see what ye'll see. If ye want Marian, ye jist go on and take her. +I'm not carin' whether ye use a club or white vi'lets, but don't ye be +lettin' Marian Thorne get no idea into her head that she is goin' to +take Mr. Pater Morrison, because concernin' Pater I know what I know, +and I ain't goin' to stand by and see things goin' wrong for want of +spakin' up. Now if you're a wise man, ye don't nade nothing further said +on the subject.” + +Eugene Snow thought intently for a few moments. His vision centered on +Katherine O'Donovan's face. + +“You're absolutely sure of this?” he said at last. + +“Jist as sure as the sun's sure, and the mountains, and the seasons come +and go,” said Katy with finality. “Watch him and you'll see it stickin' +out all over him. I have picked him for me boss, and it's jist adorin' +that man crature I am.” + +“What about Miss Linda?” inquired Snow. “Is she adoring him?” + +“She ain't nothing but a ganglin' school kid, adorin' the spade with +which she can shoot around that Bear Cat of hers, and race the canyons, +and the rely lovely things she can strike on paper with her pencil and +light up with her joyous colors. Her day and her hour ain't come, and +the Pater man's that fine he won't lay a finger on her to wake her up +when she has a year yet of her schoolin' before her. But in the manetime +it's my job to stand guard as I'm standin' right now. I'm tellin' ye +frank and fair. Ye go on and take Marian Thorne because ye ought to have +her. If she's got any idea in her head that she's goin' to have Pater +Morrison, she'll have to get it out.” + +Eugene Snow held out his hand and started to the front door in answer to +the growl of the Bear Cat. As he came down the steps and advanced to the +car, Linda, with the quick eye that had been one of her special gifts as +a birthright, noted a change in him. He seemed to have been keyed up +and toned up. There was a different expression on his face. There was +buoyancy in his step. There was a visible determination in his eye. He +took the seat beside her and Linda started the car. She looked at him +interrogatively. + +“Can you connect a heavy wind with the date of the lost plan?” he +inquired. + +“There was a crack-a-jack a few days before,” said Linda. “It blew over +some trees in the lot next to us.” + +“Exactly,” said Snow; “and it plucked a screen from your guest-room +window. Katy thinks that the cheque to the carpenter and the cost of the +repairs will be in your sister's account books.” + +“Um hm,” nodded Linda. “Well, that simplifies matters, because Peter +Morrison is going to tell you about a trip Henry Anderson made around +our house the morning Marian left.” + +“I think that is about all we need to know,” said Mr. Snow conclusively. + +“I think so,” said Linda, “but I want you to see Peter's house for +yourself, since I understand that according to your contract the rights +to reproduce these particular plans remained with you after you had paid +prize money for them.” + +“Most certainly,” said Mr. Snow. “We should have that much to show for +our share of the transaction.” + +“It's a queer thing,” said Linda. “You would have to know me a long +time, and perhaps know under what conditions I have been reared in order +to understand a feeling that I frequently have concerning people. I +tobogganed down a sheer side of Multiflores Canyon one day without my +path having been previously prepared, and I very nearly landed in the +automobile that carried Henry Anderson and Peter Morrison on their first +trip to Lilac Valley. I was much interested in preserving the integrity +of my neck. I fervently hoped not to break more than a dozen of my +legs and arms, and was forced to bring down intact the finest Cotyledon +pulverulenta that Daddy or I had found in fourteen years of collecting +in California. I am telling you all this that you may see why I +might have been excused for not having been minutely observant of +my surroundings when I landed. But what I did observe was a chilly, +caterpillary sensation chasing up my spine the instant I met the eyes of +Henry Anderson. In that instant I said to myself that I would not trust +him, that I did not like him.” + +“And what about his companion?” asked Eugene Snow lightly. “Oh, Peter?” + said Linda. There was a caress in her pronunciation of the name. “Why, +Peter is a rock. The instant I deposited my Cotyledon in a safe place I +would have put my hand in Peter Morrison's and started around the world +if he had asked me to go. There is only one Peter. You will recognize +that the instant you meet him.” + +“I am altogether willing to take your word for it,” said Mr. Snow. + +“And there is one thing about this disagreeable business,” said Linda. +“It was not Peter's coat that had the plan in it. He knew nothing about +it. He has had his full service of stiff war work, and he has been +knocking around big cities in newspaper work, and now he has come home +to Lilac Valley to 'set up his rest,' as in the hymn book, you know. He +built his garage first and he is living in it because he so loves this +house of his that he has to be present to watch it grow in minute +detail. Once on a time I saw a great wizard walking along the sidewalk, +and he looked exactly like any man. He might have been you so far as +anything different from other men in his appearance w as concerned.” + +Linda cut down the Bear Cat to its slowest speed. + +“What is on my mind is this,” she said. “I don't think Peter could quite +afford the amount of ground he has bought, and the house he is building. +I think possibly he is tying himself up in obligations. It may take him +two or three years to come even on it; but it is a prepossession with +him. Now can't you see that if we go to him and tell him this sordid, +underhand, unmanly tale, how his fine nature is going to be hurt, +how his big heart is going to be wrung, how his home-house that he is +building with such eager watchfulness will be a weighty Old Man of the +Sea clinging to his back? Do you think, Mr. Eugene Snow, that you're +enough of a wizard to examine this house and to satisfy yourself as to +whether it's an infringement of your plans or not, without letting Peter +know the things about it that would spoil it for him?” + +Eugene Snow reached across and closed a hand over the one of Linda's +nearest him on the steering wheel. + +“You very decent kid, you,” he said appreciatively. “I certainly am +enough of a wizard to save your Peter man any disillusionment concerning +his dream house.” + +“Oh, but he is not my Peter man,” said Linda. “We are only the best +friends in the world. Really and truly, if you can keep a secret, he's +Marian's.” + +“Is he?” asked Mr. Snow interestedly. And then he added very casually, +in the most offhand manner--he said it more to an orange orchard through +which they were passing than he said it to Linda--“I have very grave +doubts about that. I think there must be some slight complication that +will have to be cleared up.” + +Linda's heart gave a great jump of consternation. + +“Indeed no,” she said emphatically. “I don't think he has just told +Marian yet, but I am very sure that he cares for her more than for any +other woman, and I am equally sure she cares for him; and nothing could +be more suitable.” + +“All right then,” agreed Mr. Snow. + +Linda put the Bear Cat at the mountain, crept around the road, skirted +the boulders, and stopped halfway to the garage. And there, in a low +tone, she indicated to Mr. Snow where they had lunched, when she found +the plans, how she had brought out the coat, where she had emptied the +mouse nest. Then she stepped from the car and hallooed for Peter. Peter +came hurrying from the garage, and Eugene Snow was swift in his mental +inventory. It coincided exactly with Linda's. He would have been willing +to join hands with Peter and start around the world, quite convinced +of the fairness of the outcome, with no greater acquaintance than one +intent look at Peter, one grip of his sure hand. After that he began to +act on Katy's hint, and in a very short time he had convinced himself +that she was right. Maybe Peter tried to absorb himself in the plans he +was going over, in the house he was proud to show the great architect; +but it seemed to the man he was entertaining that his glance scarcely +left Linda, that he was so preoccupied with where she went and what she +did that he was like a juggler keeping two mental balls in the air at +the same time. + +It seemed to Peter a natural thing that, the architect being in the city +on business, he should run out to call on Miss Thorne's dearest friend +It seemed to him equally natural that Linda should bring him to see +a house in which she was so kindly interesting herself. And just when +Peter was most dexterous in his juggling, just when he was trying to +explain the very wonderful step-saving' time-saving, rational kitchen +arrangements and at the same time watch Linda on her course down to the +spring, the architect halted him with a jerk. Eugene Snow stood very +straight, his hands in his coat pockets, looking, Peter supposed, with +interest at the arrangements of kitchen conveniences. His next terse +sentence fairly staggered Peter. He looked him straight in the eye +and inquired casually: “Chosen your dream woman to fit your house, +Morrison?” + +Peter was too surprised to conceal his feelings. His jaws snapped +together; a belligerent look sprang into his eyes. + +“I have had a good deal to do with houses,” continued Mr. Snow. “They +are my life work. I find that invariably they are built for a woman. +Almost always they are built from her plans, and for her pleasure. It's +a new house, a unique house, a wonderful house you're evolving here. It +must be truly a wonderful woman you're dreaming about while you build +it.” + +That was a nasty little trap. With his years and worldly experience +Peter should not have fallen into it; but all men are children when they +are sick, heart sick or body sick, and Peter was a very sick man at that +minute. He had been addressed in such a frank and casual manner. His own +brain shot off at queer tangents and led him constantly into unexpected +places. The narrow side lane that opened up came into view so suddenly +that Peter, with the innocence of a four-year-old, turned with military +precision at the suggestion and looked over the premises for the exact +location of Linda. Eugene Snow had seen for himself the thing that Katy +had told him he would see if he looked for it. Suddenly he held out his +hand. + +“As man to man, Morrison, in this instance,” he said in rather a hoarse, +breathless voice, “don't you think it would be a good idea for you and +me to assert our manhood, to manage our own affairs, to select our +own wives if need be? If we really set ourselves to the job don't you +believe we can work out our lives more to our liking than anyone else +can plan for us? You get the idea, don't you, Morrison?” + +Peter was facing the kitchen sink but he did not see it. His brain was +whirling. He did see Snow's point of view. He did realize his position. +But what Mr. Snow knew of his affairs he could only guess. The one +thing Mr. Snow could not know was that Linda frankly admitted her +prepossession for her school chum, Donald Whiting, but in any event +if Peter could not have Linda he would much prefer occupying his dream +house alone. So he caught at the straw held out to him with both hands. + +“I get you,” he said tersely. “It is not quite up to the mark of the +manhood we like to think we possess to let our lives be engineered by +a high school kid. Suppose we do just quietly and masterfully assert +ourselves concerning our own affairs.” + +“Suppose we do,” said Snow with finality. + +Whereupon they shook hands with a grip that whitened their knuckles. + +Then they went back to Lilac Valley and had their dinner together, and +Linda and Peter escorted Eugene Snow to his train and started him on his +return trip to San Francisco feeling very much better. Peter would not +allow Linda to drive him home at night, so he left her after the Bear +Cat had been safely placed in the garage. As she stood on the walk +beside him, strongly outlined in the moonlight, Peter studied Linda +whimsically. He said it half laughingly, but there was something to +think about in what he said: + +“I'm just picturing, Linda, what a nice old lady you will be by the time +that high school kid of yours spends four years in college, one on the +continent, and the Lord knows how many at mastering a profession.” + +Linda looked at him with widened eyes. + + +KATY UNBURDENS HER MIND + +“Why, what are you talking about, Peter? Are you moonstruck?” she +inquired solicitously. “Donald's only a friend, you know. I love him +because he is the nicest companion; but there is nothing for you to be +silly about.” + +Then Peter began to realize the truth. There wasn't anything for him to +be concerned about. She had not the slightest notion what love meant, +even as she announced that she loved Donald. + + + +CHAPTER XXX. Peter's Release + +Eugene Snow returned to San Francisco enthusiastic about Linda, while he +would scarcely have known how to express his appreciation of Katherine +O'Donovan. He had been served a delicious dinner, deftly and quietly, +such food as men particularly like; but there had been no subservience. +If Katherine O'Donovan had been waiting on her own table, serving her +own friends she could not have managed with more pride. It was very +evident that she loved service, that she loved the girl to whom she gave +constant attention. He understood exactly what there was in her heart +and why she felt as she did when he saw Linda and Peter together and +heard their manner of speaking to each other, and made mental note +of the many points of interest which seemed to exist between +them. He returned to San Francisco with a good deal of a +“See-the-conquering-hero-comes” mental attitude. He went directly to +his office, pausing on the way for a box of candy and a bunch of Parma +violets. His first act on reaching the office was to send for Miss +Thorne. Marian came almost immediately, a worried look in her eyes. She +sat in the big, cushioned chair that was offered her, and smiled faintly +when the box was laid on her lap, topped with the violets. She looked at +Eugene Snow with an “I-wish-you-wouldn't” expression on her face; but he +smiled at her reassuringly. + +“Nothing,” he said. “Picked them up on the way from the station. I made +a hasty trip to that precious Lilac Valley of yours, and I must say it +pales your representation. It is a wonderfully lovely spot.” + +Marian settled back in the chair. She picked up the violets and ran an +experienced finger around the stems until she found the pin with which +she fastened them at her waist. Then as they occupied themselves making +selections from the candy box he looked smilingly at Marian. Her eyes +noted the change in him. He was neither disappointed nor sad. Something +had happened in Lilac Valley that had changed his perspective. +Womanlike, she began probing. + +“Glad you liked my valley,” she said. “We are told that blue is a +wonderful aura to surround a person, and it's equally wonderful when it +surrounds a whole valley. With the blue sky and the blue walls and a few +true-blue friends I have there, it's naturally a very dear spot to me.” + +“Yes,” said Mr. Snow, “I can see that it is. I ran down on a business +matter. I have been deeply puzzled and much perturbed over this prize +contest. We have run these affairs once a year, sometimes oftener, for +a long time, so I couldn't understand the peculiar thing about the +similarity of the winning plans and your work this year. I have been +holding up the prize money, because I did not feel that you were saying +exactly what was in your heart, and I couldn't be altogether satisfied +that everything was right. I went to Lilac Valley because I had a letter +from your friend, Miss Linda Strong. There was an enclosure in it.” + +He drew from his pocket the folded sheet and handed it to Marian. Her +eyes were surprised, incredulous, as she opened the missing sheet +from her plans, saw the extraneous lines drawn upon it and the minute +figuring with which the margin was covered. + +“Linda found it at last!” she cried. “Where in this world did she get +it, and whose work is this on it?” + +“She got it,” said Eugene Snow, “when she undertook to clean Peter +Morrison's workroom on an evening when she and her cook were having +supper with him. She turned a coat belonging to his architect that hung +with some of his clothing in Peter Morrison's garage. She was shaking +the nest of a field mouse from one of the side pockets. Naturally this +emptied all the pockets, and in gathering up their contents she came +across that plan, which she recognized. She thought it was right to take +it and very wisely felt that it was man's business, so she sent it to me +with her explanations. I went to Lilac Valley because I wanted to judge +for myself exactly what kind of young person she was. I wanted to see +her environment. I wanted to see the house that she felt sure was being +built from these plans. I wanted to satisfy myself of the stability +of what I had to work on before I mentioned the matter to you or Henry +Anderson.” + +Marian sat holding the plan, listening absorbedly to what he was saying. + +“It's an ugly business,” he said, “so ugly that there is no question +whatever but that it can be settled very quietly and without any +annoyance to you. I shall have to take the matter up with the board, +but I have the details so worked out that I shall have no difficulty +in arranging matters as I think best. There is no question whatever, +Marian, but Anderson found that sketch on the west side of the Strong +residence. When you left your plans lying on a table before a window in +the Strong guestroom the night before you came to San Francisco you did +not know that the santana which raged through the valley a day or two +previously had stripped a screen from the window before which you left +them. In opening your door to establish a draft before you went to +bed you started one that carried your top drawing through the window. +Waiting for Miss Strong the next morning, in making a circuit of +the grounds Anderson found it and appropriated it to most excellent +advantage. Miss Linda tells me that your study of architecture was +discussed at the dinner table that night. He could not have helped +realizing that any sheet of plans he found there must have been yours. +If he could acquit his conscience of taking them and using them, he +would still have to explain why he was ready to accept the first prize +and the conditions imposed when he already had a house fairly well under +construction from the plans he submitted in the contest. The rule is +unbreakable that the plans must be original, must be unused, must be our +sole property, if they take the prize.” + +Marian was leaning forward, her eyes wide with interest, her breast +agitated. She nodded in acquiescence. Eugene Snow reached across and +helped himself to another piece of candy from the box on her knee. He +looked at her speculatively and spoke quietly as if the matter were of +no great importance. + +“Would it be agreeable, Marian, if the prize committee should announce +that there were reasons as to why they were not satisfied, that they +have decided to return all plans and call off the present contest, +opening another in a few months in which interested parties may again +submit their drawings? I will undertake swiftly and comprehensively to +eliminate Henry Anderson from California. I would be willing to venture +quite a sum that when I finish with the youngster he will see the +beauty of going straight hereafter and the desirability of a change of +atmosphere. He's a youngster. I hate to make the matter public, not +only on account of involving you and your friends in such disagreeable +business, but I am sorry for him. I would like to deal with him like the +proverbial 'Dutch uncle,' then I would like to send him away to make a +new start with the assurance that I am keeping close watch on him. Would +you be satisfied if I handled the matter quietly and in my own way? +Could you wait a few weeks for justice?” + +Marian drew a deep breath. + +“Of course,” she said, “it would be wonderful if you could do that. But +what about Peter Morrison? How much did he know concerning the plans, +and what does he know about this?” + +“Nothing,” said Mr. Snow. “That most unusual young friend of yours made +me see the light very clearly concerning Peter Morrison. There is no +necessity for him ever to know that the 'dream house,' as Miss Linda +calls it, that he is building for his dream woman has any disagreeable +history attached to it. He so loves the spot that he is living on it to +watch that house in minutest detail. Miss Linda was fairly eloquent in +the plea she made on his behalf. He strikes me as a very unusual person, +and she appealed to me in the same way. There must be some scientific +explanation concerning her that I don't just get, but I can see that +she is most unusual when I watched them together and heard them talk of +their plans for the house and the grounds and discussing illustrations +that she is making for articles that he is writing, I saw how deep and +wholesome was the friendship existing between them. I even heard that +wonderful serving woman, whom they so familiarly speak of as 'Katy,' +chiding Peter Morrison for allowing Linda to take her typewriter to +him and do her own work with a pen. And because Miss Linda seems so +greathearted and loving with her friends, I was rather glad to hear his +explanation that they were merely changing machines for the time being +for a very particular reason of their own.” + +“Do you mean,” asked Marian, “that you think there is anything more than +casual friendship between Linda and Peter Morrison?” + +“Not on her part,” answered Eugene Snow. “Anybody can see that she is +a child deeply engrossed in all sorts of affairs uncommon for a girl of +her age and position. Her nice perceptions, her wonderful loyalty to +her friends, her loving thought for them, are manifest in everything she +says or does. If she ever makes any mistakes they will be from the head, +not from the heart. But for the other end of the equation I could speak +authoritatively. Katy pointed out to me the fact that if I would watch +Peter Morrison in Miss Linda's presence, I should see that he adored +her. I did watch, and I did see that very thing. When I taxed him about +building a dream house for a dream woman, his eyes crossed a plateau, +leaped a brook, and started up the side of a mountain. They did not rest +until they had found Linda.” + +Marian sat so still that it seemed as if she were not even breathing. +In view of what Katy had said, and his few words with Peter Morrison, +Eugene Snow had felt justified in giving Marian a hint as to what was +going on in Lilac Valley. Exactly what he had done he had no means of +knowing. If he had known and had talked intentionally he could not have +made clearer to Marian the thing which for months had puzzled her. +She was aware that Eugene Snow was talking, that he was describing the +dinner he had been served, the wonderful wild-flower garden that he had +seen, how skillfully Linda drove the Bear Cat. She heard these things +and dimly comprehended them but underneath, her brain was seizing +upon one fact after another. They had exchanged typewriters. The poor, +foolish little kid had known how her health was wracked, how she was +suffering, how her pride would not let her stoop to Eileen's subterfuges +and wage war with her implements for a man she did not want if her +manner of living her everyday life did not appeal to him. Linda had +known how lonely and heart hungry and disappointed she had gone away, +and loyally she had tried to create an interest in life for her; and she +had succeeded entirely too well. And then in a panic she must have +gone to Peter Morrison and explained the situation; and Peter must +have agreed to take over the correspondence. One by one things that had +puzzled her about the letters and about the whole affair began to grow +clear. She even saw how Linda, having friendly association with no man +save Peter, would naturally use him for a model. The trouble was that, +with her gift of penetration and insight and her facility with her pen, +she had overdone the matter. She had not imitated Peter; she had BEEN +Peter. Marian arose suddenly. + +She went home, locked the door, and one after another she read the +letters that had piqued, amused, comforted, and finally intrigued her. +They were brilliant letters, charming, appealing letters, and yet, with +knowledge concerning them, Marian wondered how she could have failed to +appreciate in the beginning that they were from Linda. + +“It goes to prove,” she said at last, “how hungry the human heart is for +love and sympathy. And that poor kid, what she must have suffered when +she went to Peter for help! And if, as Mr. Snow thinks, he cares for +her, how he must have suffered before he agreed to help her, as no doubt +he did. What I have to do is to find some way out of the situation that +will relieve Linda's anxiety and at least partially save my face. I +shall have to take a few days to work it out. Luckily I haven't answered +my last letter. When I find out what I really want to say then I will be +very careful how I say it. I don't just exactly relish having my letters +turned over to Peter Morrison, but possibly I can think of some way--I +must think of some way--to make them feel that I have not been any more +credulous than they.” + +While she thought, both Linda and Peter were doing much thinking on the +same subject. Linda's heart was full of gratitude to Peter for helping +her out of her very disagreeable situation. Peter had not yet opened the +packet of letters lying on his table He had a sickening distaste for the +whole transaction. He had thought that he would wait until he received +the first letter he was to answer. If it gave him sufficient foundation +in itself for the answer, he would not be forced to search further. He +had smoked many pipes on this decision. After the visit of Mr. Snow, +Peter had seen a great light and had decided, from the mood and the +attitude of that gentleman after his interview with Katy, that he very +likely would be equal to any complication that might arise when he +reached San Francisco. Mulling over the situation one day Peter said +reflectively to the spring which was very busy talking to him: “I am +morally certain that this matter has resolved itself into a situation +that closely resembles the bootblack's apple: 'they ain't goin' to be +any core.' I am reasonably certain that I never shall have a letter to +answer. In a few days probably I shall be able to turn back that packet +to Linda without having opened it.” + +To make up for the perturbation which had resulted in failure in +class and two weeks of work that represented her worst appearances in +high-school history, Linda, her mind freed from the worry over Marian's +plans, and her heart calmer over the fiasco in trying to comfort her, +devoted herself absorbingly to her lessons and to the next magazine +article that she must finish. She had decided that it was time to write +on the subject of Indian confections. Her first spare minute she and +Katy must busy themselves working out the most delicious cactus candy +possible. Then they could try the mesquite candy. No doubt she could +evolve a delicious gum from the mesquite and the incense plant. She knew +she could from the willow milkweed; and under the head of “sweets” an +appetizing jelly from manzanita. There were delightful drinks too, from +the manzanita and the chia. And better than either, the lemonade berry +would serve this purpose. She had not experimented to an authoritative +extent with the desert pickles. And among drinks she might use the +tea made from blue-eyed grass, brewed by the Indians for feverish +conditions; and there was a whole world of interest to open up in +differing seeds and berries, parched or boiled for food. And there were +the seeds that were ground for mush, like the thistle sage, and the mock +orange which was food and soap also, and the wild sunflowers that were +parched for meal, and above all, the acorns. She could see that her +problem was not going to be one of difficulty in securing sufficient +material for her book; it would be how to find time to gather all these +things, and put them through the various processes and combinations +necessary to make edible dishes from I them. It would mean a long summer +of interesting and absorbing I work for her and for Katy. Much of it +could not be done until the I summer was far advanced and the seeds and +the berries were I ripe. She could rely on Donald to help her search for +the material. With only herself and Katy in the family they could give +much of their time to the work. + +“Where Katy will rebel,” said Linda to herself, “is when it comes to +gathering sufficient seeds and parching them to make these meal and mush +dishes. She will call it 'fiddlin' business.' She shall be propitiated +with a new dress and a beautiful bonnet, and she shall go with me +frequently to the fields. The old dear loves to ride. First thing I do +I'll call at the bank again and have our affairs properly straightened +and settled there in the light of the letter Daddy left me. Then I shall +have money to get all the furniture and the rugs and things we truly +need. I'll repaint the kitchen and get Katy some new cooking utensils to +gladden her soul. And Saturday I must make my trip with Donald account +for something worth while on the book.” + +All these plans were feasible. What Linda had to do was to accomplish +them, and this she proceeded to do in a swift and businesslike manner. +She soon reached the place where the whole house with the exception +of Eileen's suite had been gone over, freshened and refurnished to her +liking. The guest-room furniture had been moved to her rejuvenated room. +On the strength of her I returns from the book she had disposed of her +furniture and was finding much girlish delight in occupying a beautiful +room, daintily decorated, comfortably furnished with pieces of her own +selection. As she and Katy stood looking over their work when everything +was ready for her first night of occupancy Katy had said to her: + +“It's jist right and proper, lambie; it's jist the way it ought to be; +and now say the word and let me clean out Eileen's suate and get it +ready for Miss Marian, so if she would drop down unexpected she would +find we was good as our word.” + +“All right,” said Linda. + +“And what am I to do with the stuff?” inquired Katy. + +“Katy, my dear,” said Linda with a dry laugh, “you'll think I am +foolish, but I have the queerest feeling concerning those things. I +can't feel that Eileen has done with them; I can't feel that she +will never want them again; I can't feel that they should go to some +second-hand basement. Pack all of her clothing that you can manage in +her trunk and put it in the garret, and what the trunk won't hold pack +in a tight box and put that in the garret also. She hasn't written me +a line; she has sent me no address; I don't know what to do; but, as I +have said before, I am going to save the things at least a year and see +whether some day Eileen won't think of something she wants to do with +them. Clean the rooms and I will order Marian's things sent.” + +According to these arrangements it was only a few days until Linda wrote +Marian that her room was ready for her and that any time she desired to +come and take possession she could test the lovingness of the welcome +that awaited her by becoming intimately acquainted with it. Marian +answered the letter immediately. She said that she was planning to come +very soon to test that welcome. She longed for the quiet of the valley, +for its cool, clean, wild air. She was very tired; she needed rest. She +thought she would love the new home they were offering her. Then came +two amazing paragraphs. + +The other day Dana and I went into one of the big cafes in the city to +treat ourselves to a taste of the entertainment with which the people +of wealth regale themselves. We had wandered in laughingly jesting about +what we should order, and ran into Eileen in the company of her aunt and +uncle and a very flashy and loudly dressed young man, evidently a new +suitor of Eileen's. I don't think Eileen wanted to introduce us, and yet +she acted like a person ravenous for news of her home and friends. She +did introduce us, and immediately her ponderous uncle took possession of +us. It seems that the man is a brother of Eileen's mother. Linda, he is +big and gross, he is everything that a man of nice perceptions would not +be, but he does love Eileen. He is trying conscientiously to please +her. His wife is the kind of person who would marry that kind of man and +think everything he said and did was right. And the suitor, my dear, was +the kind of man who could endure that kind of people. Eileen was almost, +if not quite, the loveliest thing I ever have seen. She was plain; she +was simple; but it was the costly simplicity of extravagance. Ye gods! +but she had pearls of the size she had always wanted. She tried with +all her might to be herself, but she knows me well enough to know what +I would think and what I would write to you concerning the conditions +under which I met her. We were simply forced to lunch with them. We +could only nibble at the too rich, too highly seasoned food set before +us. And I noticed that Eileen nibbled also. She is not going to grow fat +and waddle and redden her nose, but, my dear, back deep in her eyes and +in the curve of her lips and in the tone of her voice there were such +disappointment and discontent as I never have seen in any woman. She +could not suppress them; she could not conceal them. There was nothing +on earth she could do but sit quietly and endure. They delivered us at +our respective offices, leaving both of us dates on which to visit them, +but neither of us intends to call on them. Eileen's face was a tragedy +when her uncle insisted on making the arrangements. I can at least spare +her that. + +And now, my dear, life is growing so full and my time is so taken with +my work at the office and with my widening friendships with Dana and +her friends and with Mr. Snow, that I really feel I have not time to go +farther with our anonymous correspondence. It is all I can do to find +time to write you letters such as the one I am writing I have done my +best to play up to what you expected of me and I think I have succeeded +in fooling you quite as much as you have felt that you were fooling me. +But, Linda dear, I want you always to know that I appreciate the spirit +in which you began this thing. I know why you did it and I shall always +love you a trifle more for your thought of me and your effort to tide +over the very dark days you knew I would be facing in San Francisco. +I think, dear friend of mine, that I have had my share of dark days. +I think there is very beautiful sunlight ahead for me. And by and by I +hope to come into happiness that maybe is even more than my share. I am +coming to see you soon and then I will tell you all about it. + +There was more of the letter, but at that point Linda made one headlong +rush for the Bear Cat. She took the curve on two wheels and almost ran +into the mountain face behind the garage before she could slow down. +Then she set the Cat screaming wildly for Peter. As he came up to the +car she leaned toward him, shaking with excitement. + +“Peter,” she cried, “have you opened that packet of letters yet?” + +“No,” said Peter, “I have not.” + +“Then give them to me quickly, Peter,” said Linda. + +Peter rushed into the garage and brought out the packet. Linda caught it +in both hands and dropped it in her lap. + +“Well, thank God,” she said devoutly. “And, Peter, the joke's on me. +Marian knew I was writing those letters all the time and she just +pretended that she cared for them to make the game interesting for me. +And when she had so many friends and so much to do, she hadn't time +for them any longer; then she pretended that she was getting awfully in +earnest in order to stop me, and she did stop me all right.” + +Linda's face was a small panorama of conflicting emotions as she +appealed to Peter. + +“Peter,” she said in a quivering voice, “you can testify that she +stopped me properly, can't you, Peter?” + +Peter tried to smile. He was older than Linda, and he was thinking +swiftly, intently. + +“Yes, kid,” he said with utmost corroboration, “yes, kid, she stopped +you, but I can't see that it was necessary literally to scare the life +out of you till she had you at the point where you were thinking of +taking off from a mountain or into the sea. Did you really mean that, +Linda?” + +Linda relaxed suddenly. She sank back into the deeply padded seat of the +Bear Cat. A look of fright and entreaty swept into her dark eyes. + +“Yes, Peter, I did mean it,” she said with finality. “I couldn't have +lived if I had hurt Marian irreparably. She has been hurt so much +already. And, Peter, it was awfully nice of you to wait about reading +these letters. Even if she only did it for a joke, I think Marian would +rather that you had not read them. Now I'll go back home and begin to +work in earnest on the head piece of 'How to Grow Good Citizens.' And I +quite agree with you, Peter, that the oath of allegiance, citizenship, +and the title to a piece of real estate are the prime requisites. People +have no business comma to our country to earn money that they intend to +carry away to invest in the development and the strengthening of some +other country that may some day be our worst enemy. I have not found out +yet how to say it in a four-by-twelve-inch strip, but by the time I have +read the article aloud to my skylight along about ten tonight I'll get +an inspiration; I am sure I shall.” + +“Of course you will,” said Peter; “but don't worry about it, dear; don't +lose sleep. Take things slower. Give time for a little more flesh to +grow on your bones. And don't forget that while you're helping Donald to +keep at the head of his classes it's your first job to keep at the head +of your own.” + +“Thank you,” said Linda. “How is the dream coming?” + +“Beautifully,” said Peter. “One of these days you're going to come +rushing around the boulders and down the side of the building to find +all this debris cleared away and the place for a lawn leveled. I am +fighting down every possible avenue of expertise on the building in the +effort to save money to make the brook run and the road wind where you +have indicated that you want them to follow you.” + +Linda looked at Peter while a queer, reflective light gathered in her +eyes. At last she said soberly: “Well, I don't know, Peter, that you +should make them so very personal to me as all that.” + +“Why not?” asked Peter casually. “Since there is no one else, why not?” + +Linda released the clutch and started the car. She backed in front of +the garage and turned. She was still thinking deeply as she stopped. +Once again she extended a hand to Peter. + +“Thank you a thousand times for not reading these letters, Peter,” she +said. “I can't express how awfully fine I think it is of you. And if +it's all right with you, perhaps there's not any real reason why you +should not run that brook and drive that road the way I think they +should go. Somebody is going to design them. Why shouldn't I, if it +pleases you to have me?” + +“It pleases me very greatly,” said Peter--“more than anything else I can +think of in all the world at this minute.” + +And then he did a thing that he had done once or twice before. He bent +back Linda's fingers and left another kiss in the palm of her hand, and +then he closed her fingers very tightly over it. + + + +CHAPTER XXXI. The End of Donald's Contest + +The middle of the week Linda had told Katy that she intended stocking +up the Bear Cat for three and that she would take her along on the next +Saturday's trip to her canyon kitchen. It was a day upon which she had +planned to gather greens, vegetables, and roots, and prepare a dinner +wholly from the wild. She was fairly sure exactly where in nature she +would find the materials she wanted, but she knew that the search would +be long and tiring. It would be jolly to have Katy to help her prepare +the lunch. It would please Katy immensely to be taken; and the original +things she said in her quaint Irish brogue greatly amused Donald. The +arrangement had been understood among them for some time, so they all +started on their journey filled with happy expectations. They closed the +house and the garage carefully. Linda looked over the equipment of the +Bear Cat minutely making sure that her field axe, saw, knives, and her +field glasses were in place. Because more food than usual was to be +prepared in the kitchen they took along a nest of cooking vessels and a +broiler. They found Donald waiting before either of them were ready, and +in great glee, with much laughing and many jests they rolled down the +valley in the early morning. They drove to the kitchen, spread their +blankets, set up their table, and arranged the small circular opening +for their day's occupancy. While Katy and Linda were busy with these +affairs Donald took the axe and collected a big heap of wood. Then they +left Katy to burn the wood and have a deep bed of coals ready while they +started out to collect from the canyon walls, the foot of the mountains, +and the near-by desert the materials they would use for their dinner. + +Just where the desert began to climb the mountain Linda had for a +long time watched a big bed of amole. Donald used the shovel, she the +hatchet, and soon they had brought to the surface such a quantity that +Donald protested. + +“But I have two uses for them today,” explained Linda. “They must serve +for potatoes and they have to furnish our meat.” + +“Oh, I get you,” said Donald. “I have always been crazy to try that.” + +So he began to dig again enthusiastically. + +“Now I'll tell you what I think we had better do,” said Linda. “We will +skirmish around this side of the mountain and find a very nice tender +yucca shoot; and then we'll take these back to Katy and let her bury +them in the ashes and keep up the fire while we forage for the remainder +of our wild Indian feast.” + +Presently they found a yucca head that Linda said was exactly right, a +delicate pink, thicker than her wrist and two feet in length. With this +and the amole they ran back to Katy. She knew how to prepare the amole +for roasting. Linda gave her a few words of instruction concerning the +yucca. Then from the interior of the Bear Cat she drew a tightly rolled +section of wire window screening. Just where a deep, wide pool narrowed +at a rocky defile they sank the screening, jammed it well to the bottom, +fastened it tight at the sides, and against the current side of it they +threw leaves, grass, chunks of moss, any debris they could gather that +would make a temporary dam. Then, standing on one side with her field +knife, Linda began to slice the remainder of the amole very thin and to +throw it over the surface of the pool. On the other, Donald pounded +the big, juicy bulbs to pulp and scattered it broadcast over the water. +Linda instructed Katy to sit on the bank with a long-handled landing net +and whenever a trout arose, to snatch it out as speedily as possible, +being careful not to take more than they would require. + +Then the two youngsters, exhilarated with youth, with living, with +the joy of friendship, with the lure of the valley, with the heady +intoxication of the salt breeze and the gold of the sunshine, climbed +into the Bear Cat and went rolling through the canyon and out to the +valley on the far side. Here they gathered the tenderest heart shoots +of the lupin until Linda said they had enough. Then to a particular spot +that she knew on the desert they hurried for the enlarged stems of the +desert trumpet which was to serve that day for an appetizer in the stead +of pickles. Here, too, they filled a bucket from the heart of a big +Bisnaga cactus as a basis for their drink. Among Katherine O'Donovan's +cooking utensils there was a box of delicious cactus candy made from the +preserved and sun-dried heart meat of this same fruit which was to serve +as their confection. On the way back they stopped at the bridge and +gathered cress for their salad. When they returned to Katy she had five +fine trout lying in the shade, and with more experienced eyes and a more +skillful hand Linda in a few minutes doubled this number. Then they tore +out the dam, rinsed the screen and spread it over a rock to dry. While +Donald scaled the fish Linda put the greens to cook, prepared the salad +and set the table. Once, as he worked under her supervision, Linda said +to Donald: “Now about bread, kid--there's not going to be any bread, +because the Indians did not have it when they lived the way we are +living today. When you reach the place where your left hand feels empty +without a piece of bread in it, just butter up another amole and try +it. It will serve the same purpose as bread, and be much better for the +inner man.” + +“If you would let me skin these fish,” said Donald, “I could do it much +faster and make a better job of it.” + +“But you shouldn't skin them; you want the skin to hold the meat +together when it begins to cook tender; and you should be able to peel +it off and discard it if it burns or gets smoky in the cooking. It's a +great concession to clean them as we do. The Indians cooked them in the +altogether and ate the meat from the bones.” + +“Oh my tummy!” said Donald. “I always thought there was some dark secret +about the Indians.” + +Linda sat on a rock opposite him and clasped her hands around her knees. +She looked at him meditatively. + +“Did you?” she asked. “Suppose you revise that opinion. Our North +American Indians in their original state were as fine as any peoples +that ever have been discovered the round of the globe. My grandfather +came into intimate contact with them in the early days, and he said that +their religion, embracing the idea of a great spirit to whom they were +responsible for their deeds here, and a happy hunting ground to which +they went as a reward for decent living, was as fine as any religion +that ever has been practiced by people of any nation. Immorality was +unknown among them. Family ties were formed and they were binding They +loved their children and reared them carefully. They were hardy and +healthful. Until the introduction of whiskey and what we are pleased to +term civilized methods of living, very few of them died save from war +or old age. They were free; they were happy. The moping, lazy, diseased +creature that you find sleeping in the sun around the reservations is a +product of our civilization. Nice commentary on civilization, isn't it?” + +“For heaven's sake, Linda,” said Donald, “don't start any big +brainstorming trains of thought today! Grant me repose. I have +overworked my brain for a few months past until I know only one thing +for certain.” + +“All right then, me lad, this is the time for the big secret,” said +Linda. “I just happened to be in the assembly room on some business +of my own last Thursday afternoon when my sessions were over, and I +overheard your professor in trigonometry tell a marl I did not know, who +seemed to be a friend visiting him, that the son of Judge Whiting was +doing the finest work that ever had been done in any of the Los Angeles +high schools, and that undoubtedly you were going to graduate with +higher honors than any other boy ever had from that school.” + +Donald sat thinking this over. He absently lifted an elbow and wiped the +tiny scales from his face with his shirt sleeve. + +“Young woman,” he said solemnly, “them things what you're saying, are +they 'cross your heart, honest to goodness, so help you,' truth, or are +they the fruit of a perfervid imagination?” + +Linda shook her head vigorously. + +“De but', kid,” she said, “de gospel but'. You have the Jap going +properly. He can't stop you now. You have fought your good fight, and +you have practically won it. All you have to do is to carry on till the +middle of June, and you're It.” + +“I wish Dad knew,” said Donald in a low voice. + +“The Judge does know,” said Linda heartily. “It wasn't fifteen minutes +after I heard that till I had him on the telephone repeating it as +fast as I could repeat. Come to think of it, haven't you noticed a +particularly cocky set of his head and the corksome lightness about his +heels during the past few days?” + +“By Jove, he has been happy about something!” said Donald. “And I +noticed that Louise and the Mater were sort of cheery and making a +specialty of the only son and brother.” + +“Sure, brother, sure,” said Linda. “Hurry up and scrape those fish and +let's scamper down the canyon merely for the joy of flying with wings on +our feet. You're It, young man, just It!” + +Donald was sitting on a boulder. On another in front of him he was +operating on the trout. His hands were soiled; his hair was tousled; +he was fairly well decorated with fine scales. He looked at Linda +appealingly. + +“Am I 'It' with you, Linda?” he asked soberly. + +“Sure you are,” said Linda. “You're the best friend I have.” + +“Will you write to me when I go to college this fall?” + +“Why, you couldn't keep me from it,” said Linda. “I'll have so many +things to tell you. And when your first vacation comes we'll make it a +hummer.” + +“I know Dad won't let me come home for my holidays except for the +midsummer ones,” said Donald soberly. “It would take most of the time +there would be of the short holidays to travel back and forth.” + +“You will have to go very carefully about getting a start,” said Linda, +“and you should be careful to find the right kind of friends at the very +start. Christmas and Thanksgiving boxes can always be sent on time to +reach you. It won't be so long for you as for us; and by the time you +have Oka Sayye beaten to ravelings you will have such a 'perfect habit' +that you will start right in with the beating idea. That should keep you +fairly busy, because most of the men you come up against will be beaters +themselves.” + +“Yes, I know,” said Donald. “Are you going to start me to college with +the idea that I have to keep up this beating habit? If I were to be one +of fifty or a hundred, wouldn't that be good enough?” + +“Why, sure,” said Linda, “if you will be satisfied with having me like +fifty or a hundred as well as I do you.” + +“Oh, damn!” said Donald angrily. “Do I have to keep up this top-crust +business all my days?” + +Linda looked at him with a queer smile on her lips. + +“Not unless you want to, Donald,” she said quietly; “not unless you +think you would rather.” + +Donald scraped a fish vigorously. Linda sat watching him. Presently the +tense lines around his eyes vanished. A faint red crept up his neck +and settled on his left cheek bone. A confused grin slowly widened his +naturally wide mouth. + +“Then it's me for the top crust,” he said conclusively. + +“Then it's me for you,” answered Linda in equally as matter-of-fact +tones; and rising, she gathered up the fish and carried them to Katy +while Donald knelt beside the chilly stream and scoured his face and +hands, after which Linda whipped away the scales with an improvised +brush of willow twigs. + +It was such a wonderful day; it was such an unusual and delicious feast. +Plump brook trout, fresh from icy water, delicately broiled over searing +wood coals, are the finest of food. Through the meal to the point where +Donald lay on his back at the far curve of the canyon wall, nibbling a +piece of cactus candy, everything had been perfect. Nine months would +be a long time to be gone, but Linda would wait for him, and she would +write to him. + +He raised his head on his elbow and called across to her: “Say, Linda, +how often will you write to me?” + +Linda answered promptly: “Every Saturday night. Saturday is our day. +I'll tell you what has happened all the week. I'll tell you specially +what a darned unprofitable day Saturday is when you're three thousand +miles away.” + +Bending over the canyon fireplace, her face red with heat and exertion, +Katherine O'Donovan caught up her poker and beat up the fire until the +ashes flew. + +“Easy, Katy, easy,” cautioned Linda. “We may want to bury those coals +and resurrect them to warm up what is left for supper.” + +“We'll do no such thing,” said Katy promptly. “What remains goes to feed +the fish. Next time it's hungry ye are, we're goin' to hit it straight +to Lilac Valley and fill ourselves with God's own bread and beefsteak +and paraties. Don't ye think we're goin' to be atin' these haythen +messes twice in one day.” + +To herself she was saying: “The sooner I get you home to Pater Morrison, +missy, the better I'll be satisfied.” + +Once she stood erect, her hands at her belt, her elbows widespread, +and with narrowed eyes watched the youngsters. Her lips were closed so +tightly they wrinkled curiously as she turned back to the fireplace. + +“Nayther one of them fool kids has come to yet,” she said to herself, +“and a mighty good thing it is that they haven't.” + +Linda was looking speculatively at Donald as he lay stretched on the +Indian blanket at the base of the cliff. And then, because she was for +ever busy with Nature, her eyes strayed above him up the side of the +cliff, noting the vegetation, the scarred rocks, the sheer beauty of the +canyon wall until they reached the top. Then, for no reason at all, +she sat looking steadily at a huge boulder overhanging the edge of the +cliff, and she was wondering how many ages it had hung there and how +many more it would hang, poised almost in air, when a tiny pebble at its +base loosened and came rattling and bounding down the canyon face. Every +nerve in Linda tensed. She opened her mouth, but not a sound came. For a +breathless second she was paralyzed. Then she shrieked wildly: “Donald, +Donald, roll under the ledge! Quick, quick!” + +She turned to Katy. + +“Back, Katy, back!” she screamed. “That boulder is loose; it's coming +down!” + +For months Donald Whiting had obeyed Linda implicitly and instantly. He +had moved with almost invisible speed at her warning many times before. +Sometimes it had been a venomous snake, sometimes a yucca bayonet, +sometimes poison vines, again unsafe footing--in each case instant +obedience had been the rule. He did hot “question why” at her warning; +he instantly did as he was told. He, too, had noticed the falling +pebble. With all the agility of which he was capable he rolled under +the narrow projecting ledge above him. Katherine O'Donovan was a good +soldier also. She whirled and ran to the roadway. She had barely reached +it when, with a grinding crash, down came the huge boulder, carrying +bushes, smaller rocks, sand, and debris with it. On account of its +weight it fell straight, struck heavily, and buried itself in the earth +exactly on the spot upon which Donald had been lying. Linda raised +terrified eyes to the top of the wall. For one instant a dark object +peered over it and then drew back. Without thought for herself Linda +rushed to the boulder, and kneeling, tried to see back of it. + +“Donald!” she cried, “Donald, are you all right?” + +“Guess I am, unless it hit one foot pretty hard. Feels fast.” + +“Can you get out?” she cried, beginning to tear with her hands at the +stone and the bushes where she thought his head would be. + +“I'm fast; but I'm all right,” he panted. “Why the devil did that thing +hang there for ages, and then come down on me today?” + +“Yes, why did it?” gasped Linda. “Donald, I must leave you a minute. +I've got to know if I saw a head peer over just as that stone came +down.” + +“Be careful what you do!” he cried after her. + +Linda sprang to her feet and rushed to the car. She caught out the field +classes and threw the strap over her head as she raced to the far side +of the fireplace where the walls were not so sheer. Katherine O'Donovan +promptly seized the axe, caught its carrying strap lying beside it, +thrust the handle through, swung it over her own head, dropped it +between her shoulders, and ripping off her dress skirt she started up +the cliff after Linda. Linda was climbing so swiftly and so absorbedly +that she reached the top before she heard a sound behind her. Then she +turned with a white face, and her mouth dropped open as she saw Katy +three fourths of the way up the cliff. For one second she was again +stiff with terror, then, feeling she could do nothing, she stepped back +out of sight and waited a second until Katy's red head and redder face +appeared over the edge. Realizing that her authority was of no avail, +that Katy would follow her no matter where she went or what she did, and +with no time to argue, Linda simply called to her encouragingly: “Follow +where I go; take your time; hang tight, old dear, it's dangerous!” + +She started around the side of the mountain, heading almost straight +upward, traveling as swiftly and as noiselessly as possible. Over big +boulders, on precarious footing, clinging to bushes, they made their way +until they reached a place that seemed to be sheer above them; certainly +it was for hundreds of feet below On a point of rock screened by +overhanging bushes Linda paused until Katy overtook her. + +“We are about stalled,” she panted. “Find a good footing and stay where +you are. I'm going to climb out on these bushes and see if I can get a +view of the mountain side.” + +Advancing a few yards, Linda braced herself, drew around her glasses, +and began searching the side of the mountain opposite her and below as +far as she could range with the glasses. At last she gave up. + +“Must have gone the other way,” she said to Katy. “I'll crawl back to +you. We'll go after help and get Donald out. There will be time enough +to examine the cliff afterward; but I am just as sure now as I will be +when it is examined that that stone was purposely loosened to a degree +where a slight push would drop it. As Donald says, there's no reason +why it should hang there for centuries and fall on him today. Shut your +eyes, old dear, and back up. We must go to Donald. I rather think it's +on one of his feet from what he said. Let me take one more good look.” + +At that minute from high on the mountain above them a shower of sand and +pebbles came rattling down. Linda gave Katy one terrified look. + +“My God!” she panted. “He's coming down right above us!” + +Just how Linda recrossed the bushes and reached Katy she did not know. +She motioned for her to make her way back as they had come. Katy planted +her feet squarely upon the rock. Her lower jaw shot out; her eyes were +aflame. She stood perfectly still with the exception of motioning Linda +to crowd back under the bushes, and again Linda realized that she had +no authority; as she had done from childhood when Katy was in earnest, +Linda obeyed her. She had barely reached the overhanging bushes, +crouched under them, and straightened herself, when a small avalanche +came showering down, and a minute later a pair of feet were level with +her head. Then screened by the bushes, she could have reached out and +touched Oka Sayye. As his feet found a solid resting place on the ledge +on which Linda and Katy stood, and while he was still clinging to the +bushes, Katherine O'Donovan advanced upon him. He had felt that his feet +were firm, let go his hold, and turned, when he faced the infuriated +Irishwoman. She had pulled the strap from around her neck, slipped the +axe from it, and with a strong thrust she planted the head of it against +Oka Sayye's chest so hard that she almost fell forward. The Jap plunged +backward among the bushes, the roots of which had supported Linda +while she used the glasses. Then he fell, sliding among them, snatching +wildly. Linda gripped the overhanging growth behind which she had been +screened, and leaned forward. + +“He has a hold; he is coming back up, Katy!” she cried. + +Katy took another step forward. She looked over the cliff down an +appalling depth of hundreds of feet. Deliberately she raised the axe, +circled it round her head and brought it down upon that particular +branch to which Oka Sayye was clinging. She cut it through, and the axe +rang upon the stone wall behind it. As she swayed forward Linda reached +out, gripped Katy and pulled her back. + +“Get him?” she asked tersely, as if she were speaking of a rat or a +rattlesnake. + +Katy sank back limply against the wall. Linda slowly turned her around, +and as she faced the rock, “Squeeze tight against it shut your eyes, and +keep a stiff upper lip,” she cautioned. “I'm going to work around you; I +want to be ahead of you.” + +She squeezed past Katy, secured the axe and hung it round her own neck. +She cautioned Katy to keep her eyes shut and follow where she led her, +then they started on their way back. Linda did not attempt to descend +the sheer wall by which they had climbed, but making a detour she went +lower, and in a very short time they were back in the kitchen. Linda +rushed to the boulder and knelt again, but she could get no response to +her questions. Evidently Donald's foot was caught and he was unconscious +from the pain. Squeezing as close as she could, she thrust her arm under +the ledge until she could feel his head. Then she went to the other +side, and there she could see that his right foot was pinned under the +rock. She looked at Katy reassuringly, then she took off the axe and +handed it to her. + +“He's alive,” she said. “Can't kill a healthy youngster to have a +crushed foot. You stand guard until I take the Bear Cat and bring help. +It's not far to where I can find people.” + +At full speed Linda put the Cat through the stream and out of the canyon +until she reached cultivated land, where she found a man who would +gather other men and start to the rescue. She ran on until she found a +house with a telephone. There she called Judge Whiting, telling him to +bring an ambulance and a surgeon, giving him explicit directions as +to where to come, and assuring him that Donald could not possibly be +seriously hurt. She found time to urge, also, that before starting he +set in motion any precautions he had taken for Donald's protection. She +told him where she thought what remained of Oka Sayye could be found. +And then, as naturally and as methodically as she had done all the rest, +she called Peter Morrison and told him that she was in trouble and where +he could find her. + +And because Peter had many miles less distance to travel than the others +she had summoned, he arrived first. He found Linda and Katy had burrowed +under the stone until they had made an opening into which the broken +foot might sink so that the pain of the pressure would be relieved. +Before the rock, with picks and shovels, half a dozen sympathetic +farmers from ranches and cultivated land at the mouth of the canyon were +digging furiously to make an opening undermining the boulder so that it +could be easily tipped forward. Donald was conscious and they had been +passing water to him and encouraging him with the report that his father +and a good surgeon would be there very soon. Katherine O'Donovan had +crouched at one side of the boulder, supporting the hurt foot. She was +breathing heavily and her usually red face was a ghastly green. Linda +had helped her to resume the skirt of her dress. At the other side of +the rock the girl was reaching to where she could touch Donald's head +or reassuringly grip the hand that he could extend to her. Peter seized +Linda's axe and began hewing at the earth and rock in order to help in +the speedy removal of the huge boulder. Soon Judge Whiting, accompanied +by Doctor Fleming, the city's greatest surgeon, came caring into the +canyon and stopped on the roadway when he saw the party. The Judge +sprang from the car, leaped the stream, and started toward them. In an +effort to free his son before his arrival, all the men braced themselves +against the face of the cliff and pushed with their combined strength. +The boulder dropped forward into the trench they had dug for it enough +to allow Peter to crowd his body between it and the cliff and lift +Donald's head and shoulders. Linda instantly ran around the boulder, +pushed her way in, and carefully lifting Donald's feet, she managed to +work the lithe slenderness of her body through the opening, so that they +carried Donald out and laid him down in the open. He was considerably +dazed and shaken, cruelly hurt, but proved himself a game youngster of +the right mettle. He raised himself to a sitting posture, managing a +rather stiff-lipped smile for his father and Linda. The surgeon +instantly began cutting to reach the hurt foot, while Peter Morrison +supported the boy's head and shoulders on one side, his father on the +other. + +An exclamation of dismay broke from the surgeon's lips. He looked at +Judge Whiting and nodded slightly. The men immediately picked up Donald +and carried him to the ambulance. Katherine O'Donovan sat down suddenly +and buried her face in the skirt of her dress. Linda laid a reassuring +hand on her shoulder. + +“Don't, Katy,” she said. “Keep up your nerve; you're all right, old +dear. Donald's fine. That doesn't mean anything except that his foot +is broken, so he won't be able, and it won't be necessary for him, +to endure the pain of setting it in a cast without an anesthetic; and +Doctor Fleming can work much better where he has every convenience. It's +all right.” + +The surgeon climbed into the ambulance and they started on an emergency +run to the hospital. As the car turned and swept down the canyon, for +no reason that she could have explained, Linda began to shake until her +teeth clicked. Peter Morrison sprang back across the brook, and running +to her side, he put his arm around her and with one hand he pressed her +head against his shoulder, covering her face. + +“Steady, Linda,” he said quietly, “steady. You know that he is all +right. It will only be a question of a short confinement.” + +Linda made a brave effort to control herself. She leaned against Peter +and held out both her hands. + +“I'm all right,” she chattered. “Give me a minute.” + +Judge Whiting came to them. + +“I am getting away immediately,” he said. “I must reach Louise and +Mother before they get word of this. Doctor Fleming will take care of +Donald all right. What happened, Linda? Can you tell me?” + +Linda opened her lips and tried to speak, but she was too breathless, +too full of excitement, to be coherent. To her amazement Katherine +O'Donovan scrambled to her feet, lifted her head and faced the Judge. +She pointed to the fireplace. + +“I was right there, busy with me cookie' utensils,” she said, “Miss +Linda was a-sittin, on that exact spot, they jist havin finished atin' +some of her haythen messes; and the lad was lyin, square where the +boulder struck, on the Indian blanket, atin' a pace of cactus candy. And +jist one pebble came rattlin' down, but Miss Linda happened to be +lookin', and she scramed to the b'y to be rollin' under where ye found +him; so he gave a flop or two, and it's well that he took his orders +without waitin' to ask the raison for them, for if he had, at the +prisint minute he would be about as thick as a shate of writing paper. +The thing dropped clear and straight and drove itself into the earth and +stone below it, as ye see.” + +Katherine O'Donovan paused. + +“Yes,” said the Judge. “Anything else?” + +“Miss Linda got to him and she made sure he had brathin' space and he +wasn't hurt bad, and then she told him he had got to stand it, because, +sittin' where she did, she faced the cliff and she thought she had seen +someone. She took the telescope and started climbin', and I took the axe +and I started climbin' after her.” + +Katy broke down and emitted a weird Irish howl. Linda instantly braced +herself, threw her arms around Katy, and drew her head to her shoulder. +She looked at Judge Whiting and began to talk. + +“I can show you where she followed me, straight up the face of the +canyon, almost,” she said. “And she never had tried to climb a canyon +side for a yard, either, but she came up and over after me, like a cat. +And up there on a small ledge Oka Sayye came down directly above us. I +couldn't be mistaken. I saw him plainly. I know him by sight as well as +I do any of you. We heard the stones coming down before him, and we knew +someone was going to be on us who was desperate enough to kill. When he +touched our level and turned to follow the ledge we were on, I pushed +him over.” + +Katy shook off Linda's protecting arm and straightened suddenly. + +“Why, ye domned little fool, ye!” she screamed. “Ye never told a lie +before in all your days! Judge Whiting, I had the axe round me neck by +the climbin' strap, and I got it in me fingers when we heard the crature +comin', and against his chist I set it, and I gave him a shove that sint +him over. Like a cat he was a-clingin' and climbin', and when I saw him +comin' up on us with that awful face of his, I jist swung the axe like I +do when I'm rejoocin' a pace of eucalyptus to fireplace size, and whack! +I took the branch supportin' him, and a dome' good axe I spoiled din' +it.” + +Katy folded her arms, lifted her chin higher than it ever had been +before, and glared defiance at the Judge. + +“Now go on,” she said, “and decide what ye'll do to me for it.” + +The Judge reached over and took both Katherine O'Donovan's hands in a +firm grip. + +“You brave woman!” he said. “If it lay in my power, I would give you the +Carnegie Medal. In any event I will see that you have a good bungalow +with plenty of shamrock on each side of your front path, and a fair +income to keep you comfortable when the rheumatic days are upon you.” + +“I am no over-feeder,” said Katy proudly. “I'm daily exercisin' me +muscles enough to kape them young. The rheumatism I'll not have. And +nayther will I have the house nor the income. I've saved me money; I've +an income of me own.” + +“And as for the bungalow,” interrupted Linda, “Katherine, as I have +mentioned frequently before is my father, and my mother, and my whole +family, and her front door is mine.” + +“Sure,” said Katy proudly. “When these two fine people before you set +up their hearthstone, a-swapin' it I'll be, and carin' for their +youngsters; but, Judge, I would like a bit of the shamrock. Ye might be +sendin' me a start of that, if it would plase Your Honor.” + +Judge Whiting looked intently at Katherine O'Donovan. And then, as if +they had been on the witness stand, he looked searchingly at Linda. But +Linda was too perturbed, too accustomed to Katy's extravagant nonsense +even to notice the purport of what she had said. Then the Judge turned +his attention to Peter Morrison and realized that at least one of the +parties to Katherine's proposed hearthstone had understood and heartily +endorsed her proposal. + +“I will have to be going. The boy and his mother will need me,” he said. +“I will see all of you later.” + +Then he sprang across the brook and sent his car roaring down the canyon +after the ambulance. + +Once more Katy sank to the ground. Linda looked at her as she buried her +face and began to wail. + +“Peter,” she said quietly, “hunt our belongings and pack them in the +Bear Cat the best you can. Excuse us for a few minutes. We must act this +out of our systems.” + +Gravely she sat down beside Katy, laid her head on her shoulder, and +began to cry very nearly as energetically as Katy herself. And that was +the one thing which was most effective in restoring Katy's nerves. Tears +were such an unaccustomed thing with Linda that Katy controlled herself +speedily so that she might be better able to serve the girl. In a few +minutes Katy had reduced her emotions to a dry sniffle. She lifted her +head, groped for her pocket, and being unable to find it for the very +good reason that she was sitting upon it, she used her gingham hem as +a handkerchief. Once she had risen to the physical effort of wiping her +eyes, she regained calmness rapidly. The last time she applied the +hem she looked at Peter, but addressed the Almighty in resigned tones: +“There, Lord, I guess that will do.” + +In a few minutes she was searching the kitchen, making sure that no +knives, spoons, or cooking utensils were lost. Missing her support, +Linda sat erect and endeavored to follow Katy's example. Her eyes +met Peter's and when she saw that his shoulders were shaking, a dry, +hysterical laugh possessed her. + +“Yes, Katy,” she panted, “that WILL do, and remember the tears we are +shedding are over Donald's broken foot, and because this may interfere +with his work, though I don't think it will for long.” + +“When I cry,” said Katy tersely, “I cry because I feel like it. I wasn't +wapin' over the snake that'd plan a death like that for anyone”--Katy +waved toward the boulder--“and nayther was I wastin' me tears over the +fut of a kid bein' jommed up a trifle.” + +“Well, then, Katy,” asked Linda tremulously, “why were you crying?” + +“Well, there's times,” said Katy judicially, “when me spirits tell me I +would be the better for lettin' off a wee bit of stame, and one of them +times havin' arrived, I jist bowed me head to it, as is in accordance +with the makings of me. Far be it from me to be flyin' in the face of +Providence and sayin' I won't, when all me interior disposhion says to +me: 'Ye will!'” + +“And now, Linda,” said Peter, “can you tell us why you were crying?” + +“Why, I think,” said Linda, “that Katy has explained sufficiently for +both of us. It was merely time for us to howl after such fearful nerve +strain, so we howled.” + +“Well, that's all right,” said Peter. “Now I'll tell you something. If +you had gone away in that ambulance to an anesthetic and an operation, +no wildcat that ever indulged in a hunger hunt through this canyon could +have put up a howl equal to the one that I would have sent up.” + +“Peter,” said Linda, “there is nothing funny about this; it's no tame +for jest. But do men have nerves? Would you really?” + +“Of course I would,” said Peter. + +“No, you wouldn't,” contradicted Linda. “You just say that because you +want to comfort us for having broken down, instead of trying to tease us +as most men would.” + +“He would, too!” said Katy, starting to the Bear Cat with a load of +utensils. “Now come on; let's go home and be gettin' craned up and ready +for what's goin' to happen to us. Will they be jailin' us, belike, Miss +Linda?” + +Linda looked at Peter questioningly. + +“No,” he said quietly. “It is very probable that the matter never will +be mentioned to you again, unless Judge Whiting gets hold of some clue +that he wishes to use as an argument against matured Japs being admitted +in the same high-school classes with our clean, decent, young Americans. +They stopped that in the grades several years ago, I am told.” + +Before they could start back to Lilac Valley a car stopped in the canyon +and a couple of men introducing themselves as having come from Judge +Whiting interviewed Katy and Linda exhaustively. Then Linda pointed out +to them an easier but much longer route by which they might reach the +top of the canyon to examine the spot from which the boulder had fallen. +She showed them where she and Katy had ascended, and told them where +they would be likely to find Oka Sayye. + +When it came to a question of really starting, Linda looked with +appealing eyes at Peter. + +“Peter,” she said, “could we fix it any way so you could drive Katy and +me home? For the first time since I have begun driving this spring I +don't feel equal to keeping the road.” + +“Of course,” said Peter. “I'll take your car to the nearest farmhouse +and leave it, then I'll take you and Katy in my car.” + +Late that evening Judge Whiting came to Lilac Valley with his wife and +daughter to tell Linda that the top of the cliff gave every evidence +of the stone having been loosened previously, so that a slight +impetus would send it crashing down at the time when Donald lay in his +accustomed place directly in the line of its fall. His detectives had +found the location of the encounter and they had gone to the bottom of +the cliff, a thousand feet below, but they had not been able to find any +trace of Oka Sayye. Somewhere in waiting there had been confederates who +had removed what remained of him. On the way home Mrs. Whiting said to +her husband: “Judge, are you very sure that what the cook said to you +this afternoon about Miss Strong and Mr. Morrison is true?” + +“I am only sure of its truth so far as he is concerned,” replied the +Judge. “What he thought about Linda was evident. I am very sorry. She is +a mighty fine girl and I think Donald is very much interested in her.” + +“Yes, I think so, too,” said Donald's mother. “Interested; but he has +not even a case of first love. He is interested for the same reason you +would be or I would be, because she is intellectually so stimulating. +And you have to take into consideration the fact that in two or three +years more she will be ready for marriage and a home of her own, and +Donald will still be in school with his worldly experience and his +business education not yet begun. The best thing that can happen to +Donald is just to let his infatuation for her die a natural death, with +the quiet assistance of his family.” + +The Judge's face reddened slightly. + +“Well, I would like mighty well to have her in the family,” he said. +“She's a corking fine girl. She would make a fine mother of fine men. I +haven't a doubt but that with the power of his personality and the power +of his pen and the lure of propinquity, Peter Morrison will win her, but +I hate it. It's the best chance the boy ever will have.” + + And then Louise spoke up softly. + +“Donald hasn't any chance, Dad,” she said quietly, “and he never did +have. I have met Peter Morrison myself and I would be only too glad if +I thought he was devoted to me. I'll grant that Linda Strong is a fine +girl, but when she wakes up to the worth of Peter Morrison and to a +realization of what other women would be glad to be to him, she will +merely reach out and lay possessive hands upon what already belongs to +her.” + +It was a curious thing that such occurrences as the death of Oka Sayye +and the injury to Donald could take place and no one know about them. +Yet the papers were silent on the subject and so were the courts. Linda +and Katy were fully protected. The confederates of Oka Sayye for reasons +of their own preferred to keep very quiet. + +By Monday Donald, with his foot in a plaster cast, was on a side veranda +of his home with a table beside him strewn with books and papers. An +agreement had been made that his professors should call and hear his +recitations for a few days until by the aid of a crutch and a cane he +could resume his place in school. Linda went to visit him exactly as she +would have gone to see Marian in like circumstances. She succeeded in +making all of the Whiting family her very devoted friends. + +One evening, after he had been hobbling about for over a week, Linda and +Peter called to spend the evening, and a very gay and enjoyable evening +it was. And yet when it was over and they had gone away together Donald +appeared worried and deeply thoughtful. When his mother came to his room +to see if the foot was unduly painful or there was anything she could do +to make him more comfortable, he looked at her belligerently. + +“Mother,” he said, “I don't like Peter Morrison being so much with my +girl.” + +Mrs. Whiting stood very still. She thought very fast. Should she +postpone it or should she let the boy take all of his hurts together? +Her heart ached for him and yet she felt that she knew what life had in +store for him concerning Linda. So she sat on the edge of the bed and +began to talk quietly, plainly, reasonably. She tried to explain nature +and human nature and what she thought the laws of probability were in +the case. Donald lay silent. He said nothing until she had finished all +she had to say, and then he announced triumphantly: “You're all wrong. +That is what would happen if Linda were a girl like any of the other +girls in her class, or like Louise. But she has promised that she would +write to me every Saturday night and she has said that she thinks more +of me than of any of the other boys.” + +“Donald dear,” said Mrs. Whiting, “you're not 'in love' with Linda +yourself, and neither is she with you. By the time you are ready to +marry and settle down in life, Linda in all probability will be married +and be the mother of two or three babies.” + +“Yes, like fun she will,” said Donald roughly. + +“Have you asked her whether she loves you?” inquired Mrs. Whiting. + +“Oh, that 'love' business,” said Donald, “it makes me tired! Linda and +I never did any mushing around. We had things of some importance to talk +about and to do.” + +A bit of pain in Mrs. Whiting's heart eased. It was difficult to keep +her lips quiet and even. + +“You haven't asked her to marry you, then?” she said soberly. “Oh good +Lord,” cried Donald, “'marry!' How could I marry anyone when I haven't +even graduated from high school and with college and all that to come?” + +“That is what I have been trying to tell you,” said his mother evenly. +“I don't believe you have been thinking about marriage and I am +absolutely certain that Linda has not, but she is going to be made to +think about it long before you will be in such financial position that +you dare. That is the reason I am suggesting that you think about these +things seriously and question yourself as to whether you would be doing +the fair thing by Linda if you tried to tie her up in an arrangement +that would ask her to wait six or eight years yet before you would be +ready.” + +“Well, I can get around faster than that,” said Donald belligerently. + +“Of course you can,” agreed his mother. “I made that estimate fully a +year too long. But even in seven years Linda could do an awful lot of +waiting; and there are some very wonderful girls that will be coming up +six or seven years from now here at home. You know that hereafter all +the girls in the world are going to be very much more Linda's kind of +girls than they have been heretofore. The girls who have lived through +the war and who have been intimate with its sorrow and its suffering +and its terrible results to humanity, are not going to be such heedless, +thoughtless, not nearly such selfish, girls as the world has known in +the decade just past. And there is going to be more outdoor life, +more nature study. There are going to be stronger bodies, better food, +better-cared-for young people; and every year educational advantages are +going to be greater. If you can bring yourself to think about giving up +the idea of there ever existing any extremely personal thing between you +and Linda, I am very sure I could guarantee to introduce you to a girl +who would be quite her counterpart, and undoubtedly we could meet one +who would be handsomer.” + +Donald punched his pillow viciously. + +“That's nice talk,” he said, “and it may be true talk. But in the first +place I wish that Peter Morrison would let my girl alone, and in the +second place I don't care if there are a thousand just as nice girls +or even better-looking girls than Linda, though any girl would be going +some if she were nicer and better looking than Linda. But I am telling +you that when my foot gets better I am going to Lilac Valley and tell +him where to head in, and I'll punch his head if he doesn't do it +promptly.” + +“Of course you will,” said his mother reassuringly; “and I'll go with +you and we'll see to it that he attends strictly to his own affairs.” + +Donald burst out laughing, exactly as his mother in her heart had hoped +that he would. + +“Yes, I've got a hand-painted picture of myself starting to Lilac Valley +to fight a man who is butting in with my girl, and taking my mother +along to help me beat him up,” he said. + +Mrs. Whiting put her arms around her boy, kissed him tenderly, and +smoothed his hair, and then turned out the lights and slipped from the +room. But in the clear moonlight as she closed the door she could see +that a boyish grin was twisting his lips, and she went down to tell the +Judge that he need not worry. If his boy were irreparably hurt anywhere, +it was in his foot. + + + +CHAPTER XXXII. How the Wasp Built Her Nest + +The following weeks were very happy for Linda. When the cast was removed +from Donald's foot and it was found that a year or two of care would +put him even on the athletic fields and the dancing floor again, she was +greatly relieved. + +She lacked words in which to express her joy that Marian was rapidly +coming into happiness. She was so very busy with her school work, with +doing all she could to help Donald with his, with her “Jane Meredith” + articles, with hunting and working out material for her book, that she +never had many minutes at a time for introspection. When she did have +a few she sometimes pondered deeply as to whether Marian had been +altogether sincere in the last letter she had written her in their +correspondence, but she was so delighted in the outcome that if she did +at times have the same doubt in a fleeting form that had not been in +the least fleeting with Peter Morrison, she dismissed it as rapidly as +possible. When things were so very good as they were at that time, why +try to improve them? + +One evening as she came from school, thinking that she would take Katy +for a short run in the Bear Cat before dinner, she noticed a red head +prominent in the front yard as she neared home. When she turned in at +the front walk and crossed the lawn she would have been willing to wager +quite a sum that Katy had been crying. + +“Why, old dear,” said Linda, putting her arms around her, “if anything +has gone wrong with you I will certainly take to the warpath, instanter. +I can't even imagine what could be troubling you.” Linda lowered her +voice. “Nothing has come up about Oka Sayye?” + +Katy shook her head. + +“I thought not,” said Linda. “Judge Whiting promised me that what use he +made of that should be man's business and exploited wholly for the +sake of California and her people. He said we shouldn't be involved. I +haven't been worried about it even, although I am willing to go upon +the stand and tell the whole story if it will be any help toward putting +right what is at present a great wrong to California.” + +“Yes, so would I,” said Katy. “I'm not worryin' meself about the little +baste any more than I would if it had been a mad dog foaming up that +cliff at ye.” + +“Then what is it?” asked Linda. “Tell me this minute.” + +“I dunno what in the world you're going to think,” said Katy “I dunno +what in the world you're going to do.” + +Her face was so distressed that Linda's nimble brain flew to a +conclusion. She tightened her arm across Katy's shoulder. + +“By Jove, Katy!” she said breathlessly. “Is Eileen in the house?” + +Katy nodded. + +“Has she been to see John and made things right with him?” + +Katy nodded again. + +“He's in there with her waitin' for ye,” she said. + +It was a stunned Linda who slowly dropped her arm, stood erect, and +lifted her head very high. She thought intently. + +“You don't mean to tell me,” she said, “that you have been CRYING over +her?” + +Katy held out both hands. + +“Linda,” she said, “she always was such a pretty thing, and her ma +didn't raise her to have the sense of a peewee. If your pa had been let +take her outdoors and grow her in the sun and the air, she would have +been bigger and broader, an' there would have been the truth of God's +sunshine an' the glory of His rain about her. Ye know, Linda, that she +didn't ever have a common decent chance. It was curls that couldn't be +shook out and a nose that dassen't be sunburned and shoes that mustn't +be scuffed and a dress that shouldn't be mussed, from the day she was +born. Ye couldn't jist honest say she had ever had a FAIR chance, now +could ye?” + +“No,” said Linda conclusively, “no, Katherine O'Donovan, you could not. +But what are we up against? Does she want to come back? Does she want to +stay here again?” + +“I think she would like to,” said Katy. “You go in and see her for +yourself, lambie, before ye come to any decision.” + +“You don't mean,” said Linda in a marveling tone, “that she has been +homesick, that she has come back to us because she would like to be with +us again?” + +“You go and see her for yourself; and if you don't say she is the +worst beat out and the tiredest mortal that ye have ever seen you'll be +surprisin' me. My God, Linda, they ain't nothin' in bein' rich if it can +do to a girl what has been done to Eileen!” + +“Oh, well,” said Linda impatiently, “don't condemn all money because +Eileen has not found happiness with it. The trouble has been that +Eileen's only chance to be rich came to her through the wrong kind of +people.” + +“Well, will ye jist tell me, then,” said Katy, “how it happened that +Eileen's ma was a sister to that great beef of a man, which same is hard +on self-rayspectin' beef; pork would come nearer.” + +“Yes,” said Linda, “I'll tell you. Eileen's mother had a big streak of +the same coarseness and the same vulgarity in HER nature, or she could +not have reared Eileen as she did. She probably had been sent to school +and had better advantages than the boy through a designing mother of +her own. Her first husband must have been a man who greatly refined and +educated her. We can't ever get away from the fact that Daddy believed +in her and loved her.” + +“Yes,” said Katy, “but he was a fooled man. She wasn't what we thought +she was. Many's the time I've stood injustice about the accounts and +household management because I wouldn't be wakin' him up to what he was +bound to for life.” + +“That doesn't help us,” said Linda. “I must go in and face them.” + +She handed her books to Katy, and went into the living room She +concentrated on John Gilman first, and a wee qualm of disgust crept +through her soul when she saw that after weeks of suffering he was once +more ready to devote himself to Eileen. Linda marveled at the power a +woman could hold over a man that would force him to compromise with his +intellect, his education and environment. Then she turned her attention +to Eileen, and the shock she received was informing. She studied her an +instant incredulously, then she went to her and held out her hand. + +“How do you do?” she said as cordially as was possible to her. “This is +unexpected.” + +Her mind was working rapidly, yet she could not recall ever having seen +a woman quite so beautiful as Eileen. She was very certain that the +color on her cheeks was ebbing and rising with excitement; it was no +longer so deep as to be stationary. She was very certain that her eyes +had not been darkened as to lids or waxed as to lashes. Her hair was +beautifully dressed in sweeping waves with scarcely any artificial work +upon it. Her dress was extremely tasteful and very expensive. There +was no simper on her lips, nothing superficial. She was only a tired, +homesick girl. As Linda looked at her she understood why Katy had cried +over her. She felt tears beginning to rise in her own heart. She put +both arms protectingly around Eileen. + +“Why, you poor little thing,” she said wonderingly, “was it so damn' bad +as all that?” + +Eileen stood straight. She held herself rigidly. She merely nodded. Then +after a second she said: “Worse than anything you could imagine, Linda. +Being rich with people who have grown rich by accident is a dreadful +experience.” + +“So I have always imagined,” said Linda. And then in her usual downright +way she asked: “Why did you come, Eileen? Is there anything you wanted +of me?” + +Eileen hesitated. It was not in Linda's heart to be mean. + +“Homesick, little sister?” she asked lightly “Do you want to come here +while you're getting ready to make a home for John? Is that it?” + +Then Eileen swayed forward suddenly, buried her face in Linda's breast, +and for the first time in her life Linda saw and heard her cry, not from +selfishness, not from anger, not from greed, but as an ordinary human +being cries when the heart is so full that nature relieves itself with +tears. Linda closed her arms around her and smiled over her head at John +Gilman. + +“Finish all of it before you stop,” she advised. “It's all right. You +come straight home. You didn't leave me any word, and I didn't know what +to do with your things, but I couldn't feel that you would want to give +up such beautiful things that you had so enjoyed. We had planned for +Marian to spend her summer vacation here so I put her things in your +suite and I had moved mine into the guest room, but I have had my room +done over and the guest room things are in there, and every scrap of +yours is carefully put away. If that will do, you are perfectly welcome +to it.” + +Eileen wiped her eyes. + +“Anything,” she sobbed. “I'd rather have Katy's room than be shamed and +humiliated and hurt any further. Linda, I would almost like you to +know my Aunt Callie, because you will never understand about her if you +don't. Her favorite pastime was to tell everyone we met how much the +things I wore cost her.” + +Linda released Eileen with a slight shake. + +“Cheer up!” she said. “We'll all have a gorgeous time together. I +haven't the slightest ambition to know more than that about your Aunt +Callie. If my brain really had been acting properly I would never have +dismantled your room. I would have known that you could not endure her, +and that you would come home just as you should. It's all right, John, +make yourself comfortable. I don't know what Katy has for dinner but she +can always find enough for an extra couple. Come Eileen, I'll help you +to settle. Where is your luggage?” + +“I brought back, Linda, just what I have on,” said Eileen. “I will begin +again where I left off. I realize that I am not entitled to anything +further from the Strong estate, but Uncle was so unhappy and John says +it's all right--really I am the only blood heir to all they have; I +might as well take a comfortable allowance from it. I am to go to see +them a few days of every month. I can endure that when I know I have +John and you to come back to.” + +When Eileen had been installed in Linda's old room Linda went down to +the kitchen, shut the door behind her, and leaning against it, laid her +hand over her mouth to suppress a low laugh. + +“Katy,” she said, “I've been and gone and done it; I have put the +perfect lady in my old room. That will be a test of her sincerity--even +dainty and pretty as it is since it's been done over. If she is sincere +enough to spend the summer getting ready to marry John Gilman--why that +is all right, old girl. We can stand it, can't we?” + +“Yes,” said Katy, “it's one of them infernal nuisances but we can +stand it. I'm thinkin', from the looks of John Gilman and his manner of +spakin', that it ain't goin' to be but a very short time that he'll be +waitin'.” + +“Katy,” said Linda, “isn't this the most entertaining world? Doesn't it +produce the most lightning-like changes, and don't the most unexpected +things happen? Sort of dazes me. I had planned to take a little run with +you and the Cat. Since we are having--no, I mustn't say guests--since +John and Eileen have come home, I'll have to give up that plan until +after dinner, and then we'll go and take counsel with our souls and see +if we can figure out how we are going to solve this equation; and if you +don t know what an equation is, old dear heart, it's me with a war-club +and you with a shillalah and Eileen between us, and be 'damned' to us if +we can't make an average, ordinary, decent human being out of her. Pin +an apron on her in the morning, Katy, and hand her a dust cloth and tell +her to industrialize. We will help her with her trousseau, but she SHALL +help us with the work.” + +“Ye know, lambie,” whispered Katy suddenly, “this is a burnin' shame. +The one thing I DIDN'T think about is that book of yours. What about +it?” + +“I scarcely know,” said Linda; “it's difficult to say. Of course we +can't carry out the plans we had made to work here, exactly as we had +intended, with Eileen in the house preparing to be married. But she +tells me that her uncle has made her a generous allowance, so probably +it's environment and love she is needing much more than help. It is +barely possible, Katy, that after I have watched her a few days, if +I decide she is in genuine, sincere, heart-whole earnest, I might +introduce her and John to my friend, 'Jane.' It is probable that if I +did, Eileen would not expect me to help her, and at the same time she +wouldn't feel that I was acting indifferently because I did not. We'll +wait awhile, Katy, and see whether we skid before we put on the chains.” + +“What about Marian?” inquired Katy. + +“I don't know,” said Linda thoughtfully. “If Marian is big enough to +come here and spend the summer under the same roof with Eileen and John +Gilman, and have a really restful, enjoyable time out of it, she is +bigger than I am. Come up to the garret; I think Eileen has brought no +more with her than she took away. We'll bring her trunk down, put it +in her room and lay the keys on top. Don't begin by treating her as a +visitor; treat her as if she were truly my sister. Tell her what you +want and how you want it, exactly as you tell me and as I tell you. If +you see even a suspicion of any of the former objectionable tendencies +popping up, let's check them quick and hard, Katy.” + +For a week Linda watched Eileen closely. At the end of that time she was +sincere in her conviction that Eileen had been severely chastened. When +she came in contact with Peter Morrison or any other man they met she +was not immediately artificial. She had learned to be as natural with +men as with other women. There were no pretty postures, no softened +vocal modulations, no childish nonsense on subjects upon which +the average child of these days displays the knowledge of the +past-generation grandmother. When they visited Peter Morrison's house it +was easy to see that Eileen was interested, more interested than any +of them ever before had seen her in any subject outside of clothing and +jewels. Her conduct in the Strong home had been irreproachable. She had +cared for her own room, quietly undertaken the duties of dusting and +arranging the rooms and cutting and bringing in flowers. She had gone to +the kitchen and wiped dishes and asked to be taught how to cook things +of which John was particularly fond. She had been reasonable in the +amount of time she had spent on her shopping, and had repeatedly gone to +Linda and shown interest in her concerns. The result was that Linda at +once displayed the same interest in anything pertaining to Eileen. + +One afternoon Linda came home unusually early. She called for Eileen, +told her to tie on her sunshade and be ready for a short ride. Almost +immediately she brought around the Bear Cat and when they were seated +side by side headed it toward the canyon. She stopped at the usual +resting place, and together she and Eileen walked down the light-dappled +road bed. She pointed out things to Eileen, telling her what they were, +to what uses they could be put, while at the same time narrowly watching +her. To her amazement she found that Eileen was interested, that she was +noticing things for herself, asking what they were. She wanted to know +the names of the singing birds. When a big bird trailed a waving shadow +in front of her Linda explained how she might distinguish an eagle from +a hawk, a hawk from a vulture, a sea bird from those of the land. When +they reached the bridge Linda climbed down the embankment to gather +cress. She was moved to protest when Eileen followed and without saying +a word began to assist her, but she restrained herself, for it suddenly +occurred to her that it would be an excellent thing for Eileen to think +more of what she was doing and why she was doing it than about whether +she would wet her feet or muddy her fingers. So the protest became an +explanation that it was rather late for cress: the leaves toughened when +it bloomed and were too peppery. The only way it could be used agreeably +was to work along the edges and select the small tender shoots that had +not yet matured to the flowering point. When they had an armload they +went back to the car, and without any explanation Linda drove into +Los Angeles and stopped at the residence of Judge Whiting, not telling +Eileen where she was. + +“Friends of mine,” said Linda lightly as she stepped from the car. +“Fond of cress salad with their dinner. They prepare it after the Jane +Meredith recipe to which you called my attention, in Everybody's Home +last winter. Come along with me.” + +Eileen stepped from the car and followed. Linda led the way round the +sidewalk to where her quick ear had located voices on the side lawn. +She stopped at the kitchen door, handed in the cress, exchanged a few +laughing words with the cook, and then presented herself at the door of +the summerhouse. Inside, his books and papers spread over a worktable, +sat Donald Whiting. One side of him his mother was busy darning his +socks; on the other his sister Louise was working with embroidery silk +and small squares of gaily colored linen. Linda entered with exactly +the same self-possession that characterized her at home. She shook hands +with Mrs. Whiting, Mary Louise, and Donald, and then she said quietly: +“Eileen and I were gathering cress and we stopped to leave you some +for your dinner.” With this explanation she introduced Eileen to Mrs. +Whiting. Mary Louise immediately sprang up and recalled their meeting at +Riverside. Donald remembered a meeting he did not mention. It was only a +few minutes until Linda was seated beside Donald, interesting herself +in his lessons. Eileen begged to be shown the pretty handkerchiefs that +Mary Louise was making. An hour later Linda refused an invitation to +dinner because Katy would be expecting them. When she arose to go, +Eileen was carrying a small square of blue-green linen. Carefully pinned +to it was a patch of white with a spray of delicate flowers outlined +upon it, and a skein of pink silk thread. She had been initiated into +the thrillingly absorbing feminine accomplishment of making sport +handkerchiefs. When they left Eileen was included naturally, casually, +spontaneously, in their invitation to Linda to run in any time she +would. Mary Louise had said she would ride out with Donald in few days +and see how the handkerchiefs were coming on, and more instruction and +different stitches and patterns were necessary, she would love to +teach them. So Linda realized that Mary Louise had been told about the +trousseau. She knew, even lacking as she was in feminine sophistication, +that there were two open roads to the heart of a woman. One is a wedding +and the other is a baby. The lure of either is irresistible. + +As the Bear Cat glided back to Lilac Valley, Eileen sat silent. For ten +years she had coveted the entree to the Whiting home perhaps more than +any other in the city. Merely by being simple and natural, by living her +life as life presented itself each day, Linda with no effort whatever +had made possible to Eileen the thing she so deeply craved. Eileen was +learning a new lesson each day--some days many of them--but none +was more amazing more simple, or struck deeper into her awakened +consciousness. As she gazed with far-seeing eye on the blue walls of the +valley Eileen was taking a mental inventory of her former self. One by +one she was arraigning all the old tricks she had used in her trade of +getting on in the world. One by one she was discarding them in favor of +honesty, unaffectedness, and wholesome enjoyment. + +Because of these things Linda came home the next afternoon and left a +bundle on Eileen's bed before she made her way to her own room to busy +herself with a head piece for Peter's latest article. She had taken down +the wasp picture and while she had not destroyed it she had turned the +key of a very substantial lock upon it. She was hard at work when she +heard steps on the stairs. When Eileen entered, Linda smiled quizzically +and then broke into an unaffected ejaculation. + +“Ripping!” she cried. “Why, Eileen, you're perfectly topping.” + +Eileen's face flamed with delight. She was a challenging little figure. +None of them was accustomed to her when she represented anything more +substantial than curls and ruffles. + +Linda reached for the telephone, called Gilman, and asked him if he +could go to the beach for supper that evening. He immediately replied +that he would. Then she called Peter Morrison and asked him the same +question and when Peter answered affirmatively she told him to bring +his car. Then she hastily put on her own field clothes and ran to the +kitchen to fill the lunch box. To Katy's delight Linda told her there +would be room for her and that she needed her. + +It was evening and the sun was moving slowly toward the horizon when +they stopped the cars and went down on the white sands of Santa Monica +Bay. Eileen had been complimented until she was in a glow of delight. +She did not notice that in piling things out of the car for their beach +supper Linda had handed her a shovel and the blackened iron legs of a +broiler. Everyone was loaded promiscuously as they took up their march +down to as near the water's edge as the sands were dry. Peter and John +gathered driftwood. Linda improvised two cooking places, one behind a +rock for herself, the other under the little outdoor stove for Katy. +Eileen was instructed as to how to set up the beach table, spread the +blankets beside it, and place the food upon it. While Katy made coffee +and toasted biscuit Linda was busy introducing her party to brigand +beefsteak upon four long steel skewers. The day had been warm. The light +salt breeze from the sea was like a benediction. Friendly gulls gathered +on the white sands around them. Cunning little sea chickens worked in +accord with the tide: when the waves advanced they rose above them on +wing; when they retreated they scampered over the wet sand, hunting any +small particles of food that might have been carried in. Out over the +water big brown pelicans went slowly fanning homeward; and white sea +swallows drew wonderful pictures on the blue night sky with the tips of +their wings. For a few minutes at the reddest point of its setting the +sun painted a marvelous picture in a bank of white clouds. These piled +up like a great rosy castle, and down the sky roadway before it came a +long procession of armored knights, red in the sun glow and riding huge +red horses. Then the colors mixed and faded and a long red bridge for a +short time spanned the water, ending at their feet. The gulls hunted +the last scrap thrown them and went home. The swallows sought their high +cliffs. The insidiously alluring perfume of sand verbena rose like +altar incense around them. Gilman spread a blanket, piled the beach fire +higher, and sitting beside Eileen, he drew her head to his shoulder +and put his arm around her. Possibly he could have been happier in a +careless way if he had never suffered. It is very probable that the +poignant depth of exquisite happiness he felt in that hour never would +have come to him had he not lost Eileen and found her again so much +more worth loving. Linda wandered down the beach until she reached the +lighthouse rocks. She climbed on a high one and sat watching the sea as +it sprayed just below. Peter Morrison followed her. + +“May I come up?” he asked. + +“Surely,” said Linda, “this belongs to the Lord; it isn't mine.” + +So Peter climbed up and sat beside her. + +“How did the landscape appeal to you when you left the campfire?” + inquired Linda. + +“I should think the night cry might very well be Eight o'clock and all's +well,” answered Peter. + +“'God's in his heaven, all's right with the world?'” Linda put it in the +form of a question. + +“It seems to be for John and Eileen,” said Peter. + +“It is for a number of people,” said Linda. “I had a letter from Marian +today. I had written her to ask if she would come to us for the summer, +in spite of the change in our plans; but Mr. Snow has made some plans of +his own. He is a very astute individual. He wanted Marian to marry him +at once and she would not, so he took her for a short visit to see his +daughter at her grandmother's home in the northern part of the state. +Marian fell deeply in love with his little girl, and of course those +people found Marian charming, just as right-minded people would +find her. When she saw how the little girl missed her father and how +difficult it was for him to leave her, and when she saw how she would be +loved and appreciated in that fine family, she changed her mind. Peter, +we are going to be invited to San Francisco to see them married very +shortly. Are you glad or sorry?” + +“I am very glad,” said Peter heartily. “I make no concealment of my +admiration for Miss Thorne but I am very glad indeed that it is not her +head that is to complete the decoration when you start the iris marching +down my creek banks.” + +“Well, that's all right,” said Linda. “Of course you should have +something to say about whose head finished that picture. I can't +contract to do more than set the iris. The thing about this I dread is +that Marian and Eugene are going to live in San Francisco, and I did so +want her to make her home in Lilac Valley.” + +“That's too bad,” said Peter sympathetically. “I know how you appreciate +her, how deeply you love her. Do you think the valley will ever be right +for you without her, Linda?” + +“It will have to be,” said Linda. “I've had to go on without Father, +you know. If greater happiness seems to be in store for Marian in San +Francisco, all I can do is to efface myself and say 'Amen.' When the +world is all right for Marian, it is about as near all right as it +can be for me. And did you ever see much more sincerely and clearly +contented people than John and Eileen are at the present minute?” + +Peter looked at Linda whimsically. He lowered his voice as if a sea +urchin might hear and tattle. + +“What did you do about the wasp, Linda?” he whispered. + +“I delicately erased the stinger, fluffed up a ruffle, and put the +sketch under lock and key. I should have started a fire with it, but +couldn't quite bring myself to let it go, yet.” + +“Is she going to hold out?” asked Peter. + +“She'll hold out or get her neck wrung,” said Linda. “I truly think she +has been redeemed. She has been born again. She has a new heart and a +new soul and a new impulse and a right conception of life. Why, Peter, +she has even got a new body. Her face is not the same.” + +“She is much handsomer,” said Peter. + +“Isn't she?” cried Linda enthusiastically. “And doesn't having a soul +and doesn't thinking about essential things make the most remarkable +difference in her? It is worth going through a fiery furnace to come out +new like that. I called her Abednego the other day, but she didn't know +what I meant.” + +Then they sat silent and watched the sea for a long time. By and by the +night air grew chill. Peter slipped from the rock and went up the beach +and came back with an Indian blanket. He put it very carefully around +Linda's shoulders, and when he went to resume his seat beside her he +found one of her arms stretching it with a blanket corner for him. So he +sat down beside her and drew the corner over his shoulder; and because +his right arm was very much in his way, and it would have been very +disagreeable if Linda had slipped from the rock and fallen into the +cold, salt, unsympathetic Pacific at nine o'clock at night--merely to +dispose of the arm comfortably and to ensure her security, Peter put it +around Linda and drew her up beside him very close. Linda did not seem +to notice. She sat quietly looking at the Pacific and thinking her own +thoughts. When the fog became damp and chill, she said they must be +going, and so they went back to their cars and drove home through the +sheer wonder of the moonlight, through the perfume of the orange +orchards, hearing the night song of the mockingbirds. + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII. The Lady of the Iris + +A few days later Linda and Peter went to San Francisco and helped +celebrate the marriage of Marian and Eugene Snow. They left Marian in a +home carefully designed to insure every comfort and convenience she ever +had planned, furnished in accordance with her desires. Both Linda and +Peter were charmed with little Deborah Snow; she was a beautiful and an +appealing child. + +“It seems to me,” said Linda, on the train going home, “that Marian will +get more out of life, she will love deeper, she will work harder, she +will climb higher in her profession than she would have done if she had +married John. It is difficult sometimes, when things are happening, to +realize that they are for the best, but I really believe this thing has +been for the level best. I think Marian is going to be a bigger woman in +San Francisco than she ever would have been in Lilac Valley. With that +thought I must reconcile myself.” + +“And what about John?” asked Peter. “Is he going to be a bigger man with +Eileen than he would have been with Marian?” + +“No,” said Linda, “he is not. He didn't do right and he'll have penalty +to pay. Eileen is developing into a lovable and truly beautiful woman, +but she has not the intellect, nor the education, nor the impulse to +stimulate a man's mental processes and make him outdo himself the way +Marian will. John will probably never know it, but he will have to do +his own stimulating; he will have to vision life for himself. He will +have to find his high hill and climb it with Eileen riding securely on +his shoulders. It isn't really the pleasantest thing in the world, it +isn't truly the thing I wanted to do this summer--helping them out--but +it has seemed to be the work at hand, the thing Daddy probably would +have wanted me to do, so it's up to me to do all I can for them, just +as I did all I could for Donald. One thing I shall always be delighted +about. With my own ears I heard the pronouncement: Donald had the Jap +beaten; he was at the head of his class before Oka Sayye was eliminated. +The Jap knew it. His only chance lay in getting rid of his rival. Donald +can take the excellent record he has made in this race to start on this +fall when he commences another battle against some other man's brain for +top honors in his college.” + +“Will he start with the idea that he wants to be an honor man?” + +Linda laughed outright. + +“I think,” she said, “his idea was that if he were one of fifty or one +hundred leading men it would be sufficient, but I insisted that if he +wanted to be first with me, he would have to be first in his school +work.” + +“I see,” said Peter. “Linda, have you definitely decided that when you +come to your home-making hour, Donald is the man with whom you want to +spend the remainder of your life?” + +“Oh, good gracious!” said Linda. “Who's talking about 'homes' and +'spending the remainder of lives'? Donald and I are school friends, and +we are good companions. You're as bad as Eileen. She's always trying +to suggest things that nobody else ever thought of, and now Katy's +beginning it too.” + +“Sapheads, all!” said Peter. “Well, allow me to congratulate you on +having given Donald his spurs. I think it's a very fine thing for him +to start to college with the honor idea in his head. What about your +Saturday excursions?” + +“They have died an unnatural death,” said Linda. “Don and I fought for +them, but the Judge and Mrs. Whiting and Mary Louise were terrified +for fear a bone might slip in Don's foot, or some revengeful friend or +relative of Oka Sayye lie in wait for us. They won't hear of our going +any more. I go every Saturday and take Donald for a very careful drive +over a smooth road with the Bear Cat cursing our rate of speed all the +way. All the fun's spoiled for all three of us.” + +“Think I would be any good as a substitute when it comes to field work?” + inquired Peter casually. “I have looked at your desert garden so much I +would know a Cotyledon if I saw it. I believe I could learn.” + +“You wouldn't have time to bother,” objected Linda. “You're a man, with +a man's business to transact in the world. You have to hustle and earn +money to pay for the bridge and changing the brook.” + +“But I had money to pay for the brook and the bridge before I agreed to +them,” said Peter. + +“Well, then,” said Linda, “you should begin to hunt old mahogany and +rugs.” + +“I hadn't intended to,” said Peter; “if they are to be old, I won't have +to do more than to ship them. In storage in Virginia there are some very +wonderful old mahogany and rosewood and rugs and bric-a-brac enough to +furnish the house I am building. The stuff belonged to a little old aunt +of mine who left it to me in her will, and it was with those things +in mind that I began my house. The plans and finishing will fit that +furniture beautifully.” + +“Why, you lucky individual!” said Linda. “Nowhere in the world is there +more beautiful furniture than in some of those old homes in Virginia. +There are old Flemish and Dutch and British and Italian pieces that +came into this country on early sailing vessels for the aristocrats. You +don't mean that kind of stuff, do you, Peter?” + +“That is precisely the kind of stuff I do mean,” answered Peter. + +“Why Peter, if you have furniture like that,” cried Linda, “then all you +need is Mary Louise.” + +“Linda,” said Peter soberly, “you are trespassing on delicate ground +again. You selected one wife for me and your plan didn't work. When that +furniture arrives and is installed I'll set about inducing the lady of +my dreams to come and occupy my dream house, in my own way. I never did +give you that job. It was merely assumed on your part.” + +“So it was,” said Linda. “But you know I could set that iris and run +that brook with more enthusiasm if I knew the lady who was to walk +beside it.” + +“You do,” said Peter. “You know her better than anyone else, even better +than I. Put that in your mental pipe and smoke it!” + +“Saints preserve us!” cried Linda. “I believe the man is planning to +take Katy away from me.” + +“Not FROM you,” said Peter, “WITH you.” + +“Let me know about it before you do it,” said Linda with a careless +laugh. + +“That's what I'm doing right now,” said Peter. + +“And I'm going to school,” said Linda. + +“Of course,” said Peter, “but that won't last forever.” + +Linda entered enthusiastically upon the triple task of getting Donald in +a proper frame of mind to start to college with the ambition to do good +work, of marrying off Eileen and John Gilman, and of giving her best +brain and heart to Jane Meredith. When the time came, Donald was ready +to enter college comfortable and happy, willing to wait and see what +life had in store for him as he lived it. + +When she was sure of Eileen past any reasonable doubt Linda took her and +John to her workroom one evening and showed them her book contract and +the material she had ready, and gave them the best idea she could +of what yet remained to be done. She was not prepared for their +wholehearted praise, for their delight and appreciation. + +Alone, they took counsel as to how they could best help her, and decided +that to be married at once and take a long trip abroad would be the best +way. That would leave Linda to work in quiet and with no interruption +to distract her attention. They could make their home arrangements when +they returned. + +When they had gone Linda worked persistently, but her book was not +completed and the publishers were hurrying her when the fall term +of school opened. By the time the final chapter with its exquisite +illustration had been sent in, the first ones were coming back in proof, +and with the proof came the materialized form of Linda's design for her +cover, and there was no Marian to consult about it. Linda worked until +she was confused. Then she piled the material in the Bear Cat and headed +up Lilac Valley. As she came around the curve and turned from the public +road she saw that for the first time she might cross her bridge; it was +waiting for her. She heard the rejoicing of the water as it fell from +stone to stone where it dipped under the road, and as she swung across +the bridge she saw that she might drive over the completed road which +had been finished in her weeks of absence. The windows told another +story. Peter's furniture had come and he had been placing it without +telling her. She found the front door standing wide open, so she walked +in. With her bundle on her arm she made her way to Peter's workroom. +When he looked up and saw her standing in his door he sprang to his feet +and came to meet her. + +“Peter,” she said, “I've taken on more work than I can possibly finish +on time, and I'm the lonesomest person in California today.” + +“I doubt that,” said Peter gravely. “If you are any lonesomer than I am +you must prove it.” + +“I have proved it,” said Linda quietly. “If you had been as lonesome as +I am you would have come to me. As it is, I have come to you.” + +“I see,” said Peter rather breathlessly. “What have you there, Linda? +Why did you come?” + +“I came for two reasons,” said Linda. “I want to ask you about this +stuff. Several times this summer you have heard talk about Jane Meredith +and the Everybody's Home articles. Ever read any of them, Peter?” + +“Yes,” said Peter, “I read all of them. Interested in home stuff these +days myself.” + +“Well,” said Linda, dumping her armload before Peter, “there's the proof +and there's the illustration and there's the cover design for a book to +be made from that stuff. Peter, make your best boy and say 'pleased to +meet you' to Jane Meredith.” + +Peter secured both of Linda's hands and held them. First he looked at +her, then he looked at the material she had piled down in front of him. + +“Never again,” said Peter in a small voice, “will I credit myself with +any deep discernment, any keen penetration. How I could have read that +matter and looked at those pictures and not seen you in and through +and over them is a thing I can't imagine. It's great, Linda, absolutely +great! Of course I will help you any way in the world I can. And what +else was it you wanted? You said two things.” + +“Oh, the other doesn't amount to much,” said Linda. “I only wanted the +comfort of knowing whether, as soon as I graduate, I may take Katy and +come home, Peter.” + +From previous experience with Linda, Peter had learned that a girl +reared by men is not as other women. He had supposed the other thing +concerning which she had wanted to appeal to him was on par with her +desire for sympathy and help concerning her book. At her question, with +her eyes frankly meeting his, Peter for an instant felt lightheaded. He +almost dodged, he was so sweepingly taken unawares. Linda was waiting +and his brain was not working. He tried to smile, but he knew she would +not recognize as natural the expression of that whirling moment. She saw +his hesitation. + +“Of course, if you don't want us, Peter--” + +Peter found his voice promptly. Only his God knew how much he wanted +Linda, but there were conditions that a man of Peter's soul-fiber +could not endure. More than life he wanted her, but he did not want +her asleep. He did not want to risk her awakening to a spoiled life and +disappointed hopes. + +“But you remember that I told you coming home from San Francisco that +you knew the Lady of my Iris better than anyone else, and that I was +planning to take Katy, not from you, but with you.” + +“Of course I remember,” said Linda. “That is why when Marian and Eileen +and Donald and all my world went past and left me standing desolate, and +my work piled up until I couldn't see my way, I just started right out +to ask you if you would help me with the proof. Of course I knew you +would be glad to do that and I thought if you really meant in your +heart that I was the one to complete your iris procession, it would be a +comfort to me during the hard work and the lonesome days to have it put +in two-syllable English. Marian said that was the only real way--” + +“And Marian is eminently correct. You will have to give me an ordinary +lifetime, Linda, in which to try to make you understand exactly what +this means to me. Perhaps I'll even have to invent new words in which to +express myself.” + +“Oh, that's all right,” said Linda. “It means a lot to me too. I can't +tell you how much I think of you. That first day, as soon as I put down +the Cotyledon safely and tucked in my blouse, I would have put my hand +in yours and started around the world, if you had asked me to. I have +the very highest esteem for you, Peter.” + +“Esteem, yes,” said Peter slowly. “But Linda-girl, isn't the sort of +alliance I am asking you to enter with me usually based on something a +good bit stronger than 'esteem'?” + +“Yes, I think it is,” said Linda. “But you needn't worry. I only wanted +the comfort of knowing that I was not utterly alone again, save for +Katy. I'll stick to my book and to my fight for Senior honors all +right.” + +Peter was blinking his eyes and fighting to breathe evenly. When he +could speak he said as smoothly as possible: “Of course, Linda. I'll +do your proof for you and you may put all your time on class honors. +It merely occurred to me to wonder whether you realized the full and +ultimate significance of what we are saying; exactly what it means to me +and to you.” + + “Possibly not, Peter,” said Linda, smiling on him with utter +confidence. “Everyone says I am my father's daughter, and Father didn't +live to coach me on being your iris decoration, as a woman would; but, +Peter, when the time comes, I have every confidence in your ability to +teach me what you would like me to know yourself. Don't you agree with +me, Peter?” + +Making an effort to control himself Peter gathered up the material Linda +had brought and taking her arm he said casually: “I thoroughly agree +with you, dear. You are sanely and health fully and beautifully right. +Now let's go and take Katy into our confidence, and then you shall show +me your ideas before I begin work on your proof. And after this, instead +of you coming to me I shall always come to you whenever you can spare a +minute for me.” + +Linda nodded acquiescence. + +“Of course! That would be best,” she said. “Peter, you are so +satisfyingly satisfactory.” + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Her Father's Daughter, by Gene Stratton-Porter + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HER FATHER'S DAUGHTER *** + +***** This file should be named 904-0.txt or 904-0.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/9/0/904/ + +Produced by Dianne Bean + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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