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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Little Red Chimney, by Mary Finley Leonard
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Little Red Chimney
+       Being the Love Story of a Candy Man
+
+Author: Mary Finley Leonard
+
+Release Date: March 18, 2005 [EBook #15406]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LITTLE RED CHIMNEY ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Kentuckiana Digital library, David Garcia and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE LITTLE RED CHIMNEY
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: THE CANDY MAN]
+
+
+
+
+The Little Red Chimney
+
+_Being the Love Story of a Candy Man_
+
+
+BY MARY FINLEY LEONARD
+
+
+Illustrations in Silhouette by KATHARINE GASSAWAY
+
+
+New York--Duffield & Company--1914
+
+
+Copyright, 1914, by DUFFIELD & COMPANY
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+_CHAPTER I_
+
+In which the curtain rises on the Candy Wagon, and the leading
+characters are thrown together in a perfectly logical manner by Fate.
+
+_CHAPTER II_
+
+In which the Candy Man walks abroad in citizen's clothes, and is
+mistaken for a person of wealth and social importance.
+
+_CHAPTER III_
+
+In which the Little Red Chimney appears on the horizon, but without
+a clue to its importance. In which also the Candy Man has a glimpse
+of high life and is foolishly depressed by it.
+
+_CHAPTER IV_
+
+In which the Candy Man again sees the Grey Suit, and Virginia continues
+the story of the Little Red Chimney.
+
+_CHAPTER V_
+
+In which the double life of the heroine is explained, and Augustus
+McAllister proves an alibi.
+
+_CHAPTER VI_
+
+In which Margaret Elizabeth is discussed at the Breakfast Table; in
+which also, later on, she and Virginia and Uncle Bob talk before the
+fire, and in which finally Margaret Elizabeth seeks consolation by
+relating to Uncle Bob her adventure in the park.
+
+_CHAPTER VII_
+
+Shows how the Candy Wagon is visited in behalf of the Squirrel, and how
+pride suffers a fall; how Miss Bentley turns to Vedantic Philosophy to
+drown her annoyance, and discovers how hard it is to forget when you
+wish to.
+
+_CHAPTER VIII_
+
+In which the Miser's past history is touched upon; which shows how his
+solitude is again invaded, and how he makes a new friend.
+
+_CHAPTER IX_
+
+Shows how Miss Bentley and the Reporter take refuge in a cave, and how,
+in the course of the conversation which follows, she hears something
+which disposes her to feel more kindly toward the Candy Man; shows also
+how Uncle Bob proves faithless to his trust and his niece finds herself
+locked out in consequence.
+
+_CHAPTER X_
+
+In which the Little Red Chimney keeps Festival, and the Candy Man
+receives an unexpected invitation.
+
+_CHAPTER XI_
+
+In which a radical change of atmosphere is at once noticed; which shows
+how Miss Bentley repents of a too coming-on disposition, and lends an
+ear to the advantages of wealth.
+
+_CHAPTER XII_
+
+Which shows Miss Bentley recovering from a fit of what Uncle Bob calls
+Cantankerousness; in which a shipwrecked letter is brought to light, and
+Dr. Prue is called again to visit the child of the Park Superintendent.
+
+_CHAPTER XIII_
+
+In which the Candy Man relates his story, and the Miser comes upon
+Volume I of the shabby book with the funny name.
+
+_CHAPTER XIV_
+
+Shows how Mrs. Gerrard Pennington, unhappy and distraught, beseeches
+Uncle Bob to help her save Margaret Elizabeth; also how Mr. Gerrard
+Pennington comes to the rescue, and how in the end his wife submits
+gracefully to the inevitable, which is not so bad after all.
+
+_CHAPTER XV_
+
+In which the Fairy Godmother Society is again mentioned, among other
+things.
+
+
+
+
+ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+
+THE CANDY MAN
+
+MARGARET ELIZABETH
+
+VIRGINIA
+
+DR. PRUE
+
+UNCLE BOB
+
+THE MISER
+
+COUSIN AUGUSTUS
+
+MRS. GERRARD PENNINGTON
+
+
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+                      To
+             George Madden Martin
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+THE LITTLE RED CHIMNEY
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER ONE
+
+_In which the curtain rises on the Candy Wagon, and the leading
+characters are thrown together in a perfectly logical manner by
+Fate_.
+
+
+The Candy Wagon stood in its accustomed place on the Y.M.C.A. corner.
+The season was late October, and the leaves from the old sycamores, in
+league with the east wind, after waging a merry war with the janitor all
+morning, had swept, a triumphant host, across the broad sidewalk, to lie
+in heaps of golden brown along the curb and beneath the wheels of the
+Candy Wagon. In the intervals of trade, never brisk before noon, the
+Candy Man had watched the game, taking sides with the leaves.
+
+Down the steps of the Y.M.C.A. building sauntered the Reporter.
+Perceiving the Candy Wagon at the curb he paused, scrutinising it
+jauntily, through a monocle formed by a thumb and finger.
+
+The wagon, freshly emblazoned in legends of red, yellow and blue which
+advertised the character and merits of its wares, stood with its
+horseless shafts turned back and upward, in something of a prayerful
+attitude. The Reporter, advancing, lifted his arms in imitation, and
+recited: "Confident that upon investigation you will find everything as
+represented, we remain Yours to command, in fresh warpaint." He seated
+himself upon the adjacent carriage block and grinned widely at the
+Candy Man.
+
+In spite of a former determination to confine his intercourse with the
+Reporter to strictly business lines, the Candy Man could not help a
+responsive grin.
+
+The representative of the press demanded chewing gum, and receiving it,
+proceeded to remove its threefold wrappings and allow them to slip
+through his fingers to the street. "Women," he said, with seeming
+irrelevance and in a tone of defiance, "used to be at the bottom of
+everything; now they're on top."
+
+The Candy Man was quick at putting two and two together. "I infer you
+are not in sympathy with the efforts of the Woman's Club and the Outdoor
+League to promote order and cleanliness in our home city," he observed,
+his eye on the débris so carelessly deposited upon the public
+thoroughfare.
+
+"Right you are. Your inference is absolutely correct. The foundations of
+this American Commonwealth are threatened, and the _Evening Record_
+don't stand for it. Life's made a burden, liberty curtailed, happiness
+pursued at the point of the dust-pan. Here is the Democratic party of
+the State pledged to School Suffrage. The Equal Rights Association is to
+meet here next month, and--the mischief is, the pretty ones are taking
+it up! The first thing you know the Girl of All Others will be saying,
+'Embrace me, embrace my cause.' Why, my Cousin Augustus met a regular
+peach of a girl at the country club,--visiting at the Gerrard
+Penningtons', don't you know, and almost the first question she asked
+him was did he believe in equal rights?" The Reporter paused for breath,
+pushing his hat back to the farthest limit and regarding the Candy Man
+curiously. "It is funny," he added, "how much you look like my Cousin
+Augustus. I wonder now if he could have been twins, and one stolen by
+the gypsies? You don't chance to have been stolen in infancy?"
+
+This innocent question annoyed the Candy Man, although he ignored it,
+murmuring something to the effect that the Reporter's talents pointed to
+the stump. It might have been a guilty conscience or merely impatience
+at such flagrant nonsense, for surely he could not reasonably object
+to resembling Cousin Augustus. The Candy Man was a well-enough looking
+young fellow in his white jacket and cap, but nothing to brag of, that
+he need be haughty about a likeness to one so far above him in the
+social scale, whom in fact he had never seen.
+
+The Reporter lingered in thoughtful silence while some westbound
+transfers purchased refreshment, then as a trio of theological students
+paused at the Candy Wagon, he restored his hat to its normal position
+and strolled away. On the Y.M.C.A. corner business had waked up.
+
+For some time the Candy Wagon continued to reap a harvest from the rush
+of High School boys and younger children. Morning became afternoon,
+the clouds which the east wind had been industriously beating up
+gathered in force, and a fine rain began to fall. The throng on the
+street perceptibly lessened; the Candy Man had leisure once more to
+look about him.
+
+A penetrating mist was veiling everything; the stone church, the
+seminary buildings, the tall apartment houses, the few old residences
+not yet crowded out, the drug store, the confectionery--all were softly
+blurred. The asphalt became a grey lake in which all the colour and
+movement of the busy street was reflected, and upon whose bosom the
+Candy Wagon seemed afloat. As the Candy Man watched, gleams of light
+presently began to pierce the mist, from a hundred windows, from passing
+street cars and cabs, from darting machines now transformed into
+strange, double-eyed demons. It was a scene of enchantment, and with
+pleasure he felt himself part of it, as in his turn he lit up his wagon.
+
+The traffic officer, whose shrill whistle sounded continually above the
+clang of the trolley cars and the hoarse screams of impatient machines,
+probably viewed the situation differently. Given slippery streets,
+intersecting car lines, an increasing throng of vehicles and
+pedestrians, with a fog growing denser each moment, and the utmost
+vigilance is often helpless to avert an accident. So it was now.
+
+The Candy Man did not actually see the occurrence, but later it
+developed that an automobile, in attempting to turn the corner,
+skidded, grazing the front of a car which had stopped to discharge some
+passengers, then crashing into a telegraph pole on the opposite side of
+the street. What he did see was the frightened rush of the crowd to the
+sidewalk, and in the rush, a girl, just stepping from the car, caught
+and carried forward and jostled in such a manner that she lost her
+footing and fell almost beneath the wheels of the Candy Wagon, and
+dangerously near the hoofs of a huge draught horse, brought by its
+driver to a halt in the nick of time.
+
+The Candy Man was out and at her side in an instant, assisting her
+to rise. The panic swept past them, leaving only a long-legged child
+in a red tam, and a sad-faced elderly man in its wake. The Candy Man
+had seen all three before. The wearer of the red tam was one of the
+apartment-house children, the sad man was popularly known to the
+neighbourhood as the Miser, and the girl, to whose assistance he had
+sprung--well, he had seen her on two previous occasions.
+
+As she stood in some bewilderment looking ruefully at the mud on her
+gloves and skirt, the merest glance showed her to be the sort of girl
+any one might have been glad to help.
+
+"Thank you, I am not hurt--only rather shaken," she said in answer to
+the Candy Man.
+
+"Here's your bag," announced the long-legged child, fishing it out of
+the soggy mass of leaves beneath the wagon. "And you need not worry
+about your skirt. Take it to Bauer's just round the corner; they'll
+clean it," she added.
+
+The owner of the bag received it and the accompanying advice with an
+adorable smile in which there was merriment as well as appreciation.
+The Miser plucked the Candy Man by the sleeve and asked if the young
+lady did not wish a cab.
+
+She answered for herself. "Thank you, no; I am quite all right--only
+muddy. But was it a bad accident? What happened?"
+
+The Miser crossed the street where the crowd had gathered, to
+investigate, and returning reported the chauffeur probably done for.
+While he was gone the conductor of the street car appeared in quest of
+the names and addresses of everybody within a radius of ten blocks. In
+this way the Candy Man learned that her name was Bentley. She gave it
+reluctantly, as persons do on such occasions, and he failed to catch
+her street and number.
+
+"I'm very sorry! I suppose there is nothing one can do?" she exclaimed,
+apropos of the chauffeur, and the next the Candy Man knew she was
+walking away in the mist hand in hand with the long-legged child.
+
+"An unusually charming face," the Miser remarked, raising his umbrella.
+
+To the sober mind "unusually charming" would seem a not unworthy
+compliment, but the Candy Man, as he resumed his place in the wagon,
+smiled scornfully at what he was pleased to consider its grotesque
+inadequacy. If he had anything better to offer, the Miser did not stay
+to hear it, but with a courteous "good evening" disappeared in his
+turn in the mist. An ambulance carried away the injured man, the crowd
+dispersed; the remains of the machine were towed away to a near-by
+garage. Night fell; the throng grew less, the rain gathered courage and
+became a downpour. There would be little doing in the way of business
+to-night.
+
+As he made ready for early closing the Candy Man fell to thinking of the
+girl whose name was Bentley. Not that the name interested him save as a
+means of further identification. It was a phrase used by the Reporter
+this morning that occurred to him now as peculiarly applicable to her.
+The Girl of All Others! He rolled it as a sweet morsel under his tongue,
+undisturbed by the reflection that such descriptive titles are at
+present overworked--in dreams one has no need to be original.
+
+Neither did it strike him as incongruous that he should have seen her
+first in the grocery kept by Mr. Simms, who catered to the needs of such
+as got their own breakfasts, and whose boiled ham was becoming famous,
+because it was really done. He went back to the experience, dwelling
+with pleasure upon each detail of it, even his annoyance at the grocer's
+daughter, who exchanged crochet patterns with the tailor's wife, after
+the manner of a French exercise, and ignored him. It was early and
+business had not yet begun on the Y.M.C.A. corner; still he could not
+wait forever. The grocer himself, who was attending to the wants of a
+lean and hungry-looking student, had just handed his rolls and smoked
+sausage across the counter, with a cheery "Breakfast is ready, ring the
+bell," when the door opened and the Girl of All Others came in.
+
+She was tallish, but not very tall, and somewhat slight. She wore a grey
+suit--the same which had suffered this afternoon from contact with the
+street, and a soft felt hat of the same colour jammed down anyhow on her
+bright hair and pinned with a pinkish quill--or so it looked. The face
+beneath the bright hair was---- But at this point in his recollections
+the Candy Man all but lost himself in a maze of adjectives and adverbs.
+We know, at least, how the long-legged child ran to help, and finally
+went off hand in hand with her, and what the Miser said of her, and
+after all the best the Candy Man could do was to go back to the
+Reporter's phrase.
+
+He had withdrawn a little behind a stack of breakfast foods where he
+could watch her, wondering that the clerks did not drop their several
+customers without ceremony and fly to do her bidding. She stood beside
+the counter and made overtures to a large Maltese cat who reposed there
+in solemn majesty. Beside the Maltese rose a pyramid of canned goods,
+and a placard announced, "Of interest to light house keepers." Upon this
+her eyes rested in evident surprise. "I didn't know there were any
+lighthouses in this part of the country," she said half aloud.
+
+[Illustration: MARGARET ELIZABETH]
+
+The Maltese laid a protesting paw upon her arm. It was not, however, the
+absurdity of her remark, but the cessation of her caresses he protested
+against. At the same moment her eyes met those of the Candy Man, across
+the stack of breakfast foods. His were laughing, and hers were instantly
+withdrawn. He saw her colour mounting as she exclaimed, addressing the
+cat, "How perfectly idiotic!"
+
+He longed to assure her it was a perfectly natural mistake, the placard
+being but an amateurish affair; but he lacked the courage.
+
+And then the grocer, having disposed of another customer, advanced to
+serve her, and the grocer's daughter, it seemed, was also at leisure;
+and though he would have preferred to watch the Girl of All Others doing
+the family marketing in a most competent manner, a thoughtful finger
+upon her lip, the Candy Man was forced to attend to his own business.
+In selecting a basket of grapes and ordering them sent to St. Mary's
+Hospital, he presently lost sight of her.
+
+Once since then she had passed his corner on her way up the street.
+That was all until to-night. It seemed probable that she lived in the
+neighbourhood. Perhaps the Reporter would know.
+
+Just here the recollection that he was a Candy Man brought him up short.
+His bright dreams began to fade. The Girl of All Others should of course
+be able to recognise true worth, even in a Candy Wagon, but such is the
+power of convention he was forced to own to himself it was more than
+possible she might not. Or if she did, her friends----
+
+But these disheartening reflections were curtailed by the sudden
+appearance of a stout, grey horse under the conduct of a small boy. The
+shafts were lowered, the grey horse placed between them, and, after a
+few more preliminaries, the Candy Wagon, Candy Man and all, were removed
+from the scene of action, leaving the Y.M.C.A. corner to the rain and
+the fog, the gleaming lights, and the ceaseless clang of the trolley
+cars.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER TWO
+
+_In which the Candy Man walks abroad in citizen's clothes, and is
+mistaken for a person of wealth and social importance._
+
+
+The Candy Man strolled along a park path. The October day was crisp, the
+sky the bluest blue, the sunny landscape glowing with autumn's fairest
+colours. It was a Sunday morning not many days after the events of the
+first chapter, and back in the city the church bells were ringing for
+eleven o'clock service.
+
+In citizen's clothes, and well-fitting ones at that, the Candy Man was
+a presentable young fellow. If his face seemed at first glance a trifle
+stern, this sternness was offset by the light in his eyes; a steady,
+purposeful glow, through which played at the smallest excuse a humorous
+twinkle.
+
+After the ceaseless stir of the Y.M.C.A. corner, the stillness of the
+park was most grateful. At this hour on Sunday, if he avoided the golf
+grounds, it was to all intents his own. His objective point was a rustic
+arbour hung with rose vines and clematis, where was to be had a view of
+the river as it made an abrupt turn around the opposite hills. Here he
+might read, or gaze and dream, as it pleased him, reasonably secure from
+interruption once he had possession.
+
+The Candy Man breathed deeply, and smiled to himself. It was a day to
+inspire confident dreams, for the joy of fulfilment was over the land.
+Was it the sudden fear that some other dreamer might be before him, or
+a subconscious prevision of what actually awaited him, that caused him
+to quicken his steps as he neared the arbour? However it may have been,
+as he took at a bound the three steps which led up to it, he came with
+startling suddenness upon Miss Bentley entering from the other side,
+her arms full of flowers. Their eyes met in a flash of recognition
+which there was no time to control. She bowed, not ungraciously, yet
+distantly, and with a faint puzzled frown on her brow, and he, as he
+lifted his hat, spoke her name, which, as he was not supposed to know
+it, he had no business to do; then they both laughed at the way in which
+they had bounced in at the same moment from opposite directions.
+
+With some remark about the delightful day, the Candy Man, as a gentleman
+should, tried to pretend he was merely passing through, and though it
+was but a feeble performance, Miss Bentley should have accepted it
+without protest, then all would have been well. Instead, she said, still
+with that puzzled half frown, "Don't go, I am only waiting here a moment
+for my cousin, who has stopped at the superintendent's cottage." She
+motioned over her shoulder to a vine-covered dwelling just visible
+through the trees.
+
+"Please do not put it in that way," he protested. "As if your being here
+did not add tremendously to my desire to remain. I am conscious of
+rushing in most unceremoniously upon you, and----"
+
+Hesitating there, hat in hand, his manners were disarmingly frank. Miss
+Bentley laughed again as she deposited her flowers, a mass of pink and
+white cosmos, upon a bench, and sat down beside them. She seemed willing
+to have him put it as he liked. She wore the same grey suit and soft
+felt hat, jammed down any way on her bright hair and pinned with a
+pinkish quill, and was somehow, more emphatically than before, the Girl
+of All Others.
+
+How could a Candy Man be expected to know what he was about? What wonder
+that his next remark should be a hope that she had suffered no ill
+effects from the accident?
+
+"None at all, thank you," Miss Bentley replied, and the puzzled
+expression faded. It was as if she inwardly exclaimed, "Now I know!"
+"Aunt Eleanor," she added, "was needlessly alarmed. I seem rather given
+to accidents of late." Thus saying she began to arrange her flowers.
+
+The Candy Man dropped down on the step where the view--of Miss
+Bentley--was most charming, as she softly laid one bloom upon another in
+caressing fashion, her curling lashes now almost touching her cheek, now
+lifted as she looked away to the river, or bent her gaze upon the
+occupant of the step.
+
+"Do you often come here?" she asked, adding when he replied that this
+was the third time, that she thought he had rather an air of
+proprietorship.
+
+He laughed at this, and explained how he had set out to pay a visit to
+a sick boy at St. Mary's Hospital, but had allowed the glorious day to
+tempt him to the park.
+
+Below them on the terraced hillside a guard sat reading his paper;
+across the meadow a few golfers were to be seen against the horizon.
+All about them the birds and squirrels were busily minding their own
+affairs; above them smiled the blue, blue sky, and the cousin, whoever
+he or she might be, considerately lingered.
+
+Like the shining river their talk flowed on. Beginning like it as a
+shallow stream, it broadened and deepened on its way, till presently
+fairy godmothers became its theme.
+
+Miss Bentley was never able to recall what led up to it. The Candy Man
+only remembered her face, as, holding a crimson bloom against her cheek,
+she smiled down upon him thoughtfully, and asked him to guess what she
+meant to do when some one left her a fortune. "I have a strange
+presentiment that some one is going to," she said.
+
+"How delightful!" he exclaimed, but did not hazard a guess, and she
+continued without giving him a chance: "I shall establish a Fairy
+Godmother Fund, the purpose of which shall be the distribution of good
+times; of pleasures large and small, among people who have few or none."
+
+"It sounds," was the Candy Man's comment, "like the minutes of the first
+meeting. Please explain further. How will you select your beneficiaries?"
+
+"I don't like your word," she objected. "Beneficiaries and fairy
+godmothers somehow do not go together. Still, I see what you mean, and
+while I have not as yet worked out the plan, I'm confident it could be
+managed. Suppose we know a poor teacher, for instance, who has nothing
+left over from her meagre salary after the necessary things are provided
+for, and who is, we'll say, hungry for grand opera. We would enclose
+opera tickets with a note asking her to go and have a good time, signed,
+'Your Fairy Godmother,' and with a postscript something like this, 'If
+you cannot use them, hand them on to another of my godchildren.' Don't
+you think she would accept them?"
+
+Under the spell of those lovely, serious eyes, the Candy Man rather
+thought she would.
+
+"Of course," Miss Bentley went on, "it must be a secret society, never
+mentioned in the papers, unknown to those you call its beneficiaries.
+In this way there will be no occasion or demand for gratitude. No
+obligations will be imposed upon the recipients--that word is as bad as
+yours--let's call them godchildren--and the fairy godmother will have
+her fun in giving the good times, without bothering over whether they
+are properly grateful."
+
+"You seem to have a grievance against gratitude," said the Candy Man
+laughing.
+
+"I have," she owned.
+
+"There are people who contend that there is little or none of it in the
+world," he added.
+
+"And I am not sure it was meant there should be--much of it, I mean. It
+is an emotion--would you call it an emotion?"
+
+"You might," said the Candy Man.
+
+"Well, an emotion that turns to dust and ashes when you try to
+experience it, or demand it of others," concluded Miss Bentley with
+emphasis. "And you needn't laugh," she added.
+
+The Candy Man disclaimed any thought of such a thing. He was profoundly
+serious. "It is really a great idea," he said. "A human agency whose
+benefits could be received as we receive those of Nature or
+Providence--as impersonally."
+
+She nodded appreciatively. "You understand." And they were both aware
+of a sense of comradeship scarcely justified by the length of their
+acquaintance.
+
+"May I ask your ideas as to the amount of this fund?" he said.
+
+She considered a moment. "Well, say a hundred thousand," she suggested.
+
+"You are expecting a large bequest, then."
+
+"An income of five thousand would not be too much," insisted Miss
+Bentley. "We should wish to do bigger things than opera tickets, you
+know."
+
+"There are persons who perhaps need a fairy godmother, whom money
+cannot help," the Candy Man continued thoughtfully. "There's an old
+man--not so old either--a sad grey man, whom the children on our block
+call the Miser. I am not an adept in reading faces, but I am sure there
+is nothing mean in his. It is only sad. I get interested in people,"
+he added.
+
+"So do I," cried his companion. "And of course, you are right. The Fairy
+Godmother Society would have to have more than one department. Naturally
+opera tickets would not do your man any good--unless we could get him to
+send them."
+
+They laughed over this clever idea, and the Candy Man went on to say
+that there were lonely people in the world, who, through no fault of
+their own, were so circumstanced as to be cut off from those common
+human relationships which have much to do with the flavour of life.
+
+"I don't quite understand," Miss Bentley began. But these young persons
+were not to be left to settle the affairs of the universe in one
+morning. A handkerchief waved in the distance by a stoutish lady,
+interrupted. "There's Cousin Prue," Miss Bentley cried, springing to
+her feet.
+
+Hastily dividing her flowers into two bunches, she thrust one upon the
+Candy Man. "For your sick boy. You won't mind, as it isn't far. I have
+so enjoyed talking to you, Mr. McAllister. I shall hope to see you soon
+again. Aunt Eleanor often speaks of you."
+
+This sudden descent to the conventional greatly embarrassed the Candy
+Man, but he had no time for a word. Miss Bentley was off like a flash,
+across the grass, before he could collect his scattered wits. He looked
+after her, till, in company with the stout lady, she disappeared from
+view. Then with a whimsical expression on his countenance, he took a
+leather case from his breast pocket, and opening it glanced at one of
+the cards within. It was as if he doubted his own identity and wished
+to be reassured.
+
+The name engraved on the card was not McAllister, but Robert Deane
+Reynolds.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER THREE
+
+_In which the Little Red Chimney appears on the horizon, but without
+a clue to its importance. In which also the Candy Man has a glimpse of
+high life and is foolishly depressed by it._
+
+
+Starting from the Y.M.C.A. corner, walking up the avenue a block, then
+turning south, you came in a few steps to a modest grey house with a
+grass plat in front of it, a freshly reddened brick walk, and flower
+boxes in its windows. It was modest, not merely in the sense of being
+unpretentious, but also in that of a restrained propriety. You felt it
+to be a dwelling of character, wherein what should be done to-day, was
+never put off till to-morrow; where there was a place for everything and
+everything in it. Yet mingling with this propriety was an all-pervading
+cheer that appealed strongly to the homeless passerby.
+
+The grey house presented a gable end to the street, and stretched a
+wing comfortably on either side. In one of these was a glass door, with
+"Office Hours 10-1," which caused you to glance again at the sign on the
+iron gate: "Dr. Prudence Vandegrift."
+
+The other ell, which was of one story, had a double window, before
+which a rose bush grew, and when the blinds were up you had sometimes a
+glimpse of an opposite window, indicating that it was but one room deep.
+From its roof rose a small chimney that stood out from all the other
+chimneys, because, while they were grey like the house and its slate
+roof, it was red.
+
+Strolling by in a leisure hour the Candy Man had remarked it and
+wondered why, and found himself continuing to wonder. Somehow that
+little red chimney took hold on his imagination. It was a magical
+chimney, poetic, alluring, at once a cheering and a depressing little
+chimney, for it stirred him to delicious dreams, which, when they faded,
+left him forlorn.
+
+It was to Virginia he owed enlightenment. Virginia was the long-legged
+child who had fished Miss Bentley's bag from beneath the Candy Wagon,
+the indomitable leader of the Apartment House Pigeons, as the Candy Man
+had named them.
+
+The Apartment House did not exclude children, neither did it encourage
+them, and when their individual quarters became too contracted to
+contain their exuberance, they perforce sought the street. Like pigeons
+they would descend in a flock, here, there, everywhere; perching in a
+blissful row before the soda fountain in the drug store; or if the state
+of the public purse did not warrant this, the curbstone and the wares
+of the Candy Wagon were cheerfully substituted. By virtue no doubt of
+her long legs and masterful spirit, Virginia ruled the flock. Under her
+guidance they made existence a weariness to the several janitors on
+the block.
+
+As in defiance of law and order they circled one day on their roller
+skates, down the avenue and up the broad alley behind the Y.M.C.A.,
+round and round, Virginia issued her orders: "You all go on, I want to
+talk to the Candy Man."
+
+Being without as yet any theories, consistently democratic, she regarded
+him as a friend and brother. A state of society in which the position of
+Candy Man was next the throne, would have seemed perfectly logical to
+Virginia.
+
+[Illustration: VIRGINIA]
+
+"You don't look much like Tim," she volunteered, dangling her legs from
+the carriage block. Her hair was dark and severely bobbed; her miniature
+nose was covered with freckles, and she squinted a little.
+
+"No?" responded the Candy Man.
+
+"Tim was Irish," she continued.
+
+During business hours conversation of necessity took on a disjointed
+character. Unless you had great power of concentration you forgot in the
+intervals what you had been talking about. When a group of High School
+boys had been served and had gone their hilarious way Virginia began
+again. "You know the house with the Little Red Chimney?" she asked.
+
+The Candy Man did.
+
+"Well, a nice old man named Uncle Bob lives there, and I asked him why
+that chimney was red, and he said because it was new. A branch of a tree
+fell on the old one. The tree where the squirrel house is, you know."
+
+The Candy Man remembered the tree.
+
+"He said the doctor was going to have it painted, but he kind of liked
+it red, and so did her ladyship."
+
+"And who might her ladyship be?" the Candy Man inquired.
+
+"That's what I asked him, and he said, 'You come over and see,' and
+then he said--now listen to this, for it's just like a story." Virginia
+lifted an admonishing finger. "He said, whenever I saw smoke coming out
+of that Little Red Chimney, I might know her ladyship had come to town.
+You'd better believe I'm going to watch. And what do you think! I can
+see it from our dining-room window!" she concluded.
+
+"Most interesting," said the Candy Man politely, without the least idea
+how interesting it really was.
+
+Virginia's gaze suddenly fastened on a small book lying on the seat of
+the Candy Wagon, and she had seized it before its owner could protest.
+"What a funny name," she said. "'E p i c t e t u s.' What does that
+spell? And what made you cut a hole in this page? It looks like a
+window."
+
+The page was a fly leaf, from which a name, possibly that of a former
+owner, had been removed. Below it the Candy Man's own name was now
+written.
+
+"It was so when I got it," he answered, holding out his hand for it. He
+had no mind to have his book in any other keeping, for somewhere within
+its leaves lay a crimson flower.
+
+Before she returned it Virginia examined the back. "Vol. I, what does
+that mean?" she asked, and without waiting for an answer she tossed it
+back to him, and ran to join the other pigeons.
+
+From this time Virginia began to be almost as constant a visitor as
+the Reporter. She had a way of bursting into conversation without any
+preface whatever, speaking entirely from the fullness of her heart at
+the moment.
+
+"I'd give anything in the world to be pretty," she remarked one day,
+resting her school bag on the carriage block and sighing deeply.
+
+"But now honestly," said the Candy Man, regarding her gravely, "it seems
+to me you are a very nice-looking little girl, and who knows but you may
+turn out a great beauty some day? That is the way it happens in story
+books."
+
+Virginia returned his gaze steadily. "Do you really think there is any
+chance? You are not laughing?"
+
+He assured her he was intensely serious.
+
+"Well, you are the first person who ever told me that. Uncle Harry said,
+'Is it possible, Cornelia, that this is your child?' Cornelia is my
+mother, and she is a beauty. My brother is awfully good looking, too.
+Everybody thinks he ought to have been the girl. I'll tell you who I
+want to look like when I grow up. Don't you know that young lady who
+fell in the mud?"
+
+Oh, yes, the Candy Man knew, and applauded Virginia's ambition. He would
+have been pleased to enlarge on the subject, even to the extent of
+neglecting business, but just as she began to be interesting Virginia
+remembered an errand to the drug store, and ran away.
+
+That Sunday morning meeting with Miss Bentley had been reviewed by the
+Candy Man from every possible standpoint, and always, in conclusion,
+with the same questions. Could he have done otherwise? What would she
+think when she discovered her mistake? Who was his unknown double?
+
+The opportunity offering, he made some guarded inquiries of the
+Reporter.
+
+"Bentley?" repeated that gentleman, as he sharpened a bright yellow
+pencil. "Seem to have heard the name somewhere recently."
+
+It was a matter of no particular importance to the Candy Man. He had
+chanced to hear the name given to the conductor by the young lady who
+was thrown down the night of the accident, and wondered----
+
+The Reporter, who wasn't listening, here exclaimed: "I have it! It was
+this A.M. Maimie McHugh was interviewing Mrs. Gerrard Pennington over
+the office 'phone in regard to a luncheon she is giving this week in
+honour of her niece. Said niece's name me-thinks was Bentley. You will
+see it all in the social notes later. Covers for twelve, decorations in
+pink, La France roses, place cards from somewhere." He paused to laugh.
+"Maimie was doing it up brown, but she lacks tact. What does she do but
+ask for Miss Bentley's picture for the Saturday edition! I tried to stop
+her, but it was too late. You should have heard the 'phone buzz. 'My
+niece's picture in the _Evening Record_!' 'I don't care, mean old
+thing,' says Maimie, when she hung up. 'Nicer people than she is do it,
+and are glad to. 'That's all right, my honey,' I told her, 'but there
+are nice people and nice people, and it's up to you to know the variety
+you are dealing with, unless you like to be snubbed.' Still," the
+Reporter added reflectively, "Mrs. Gerrard Pennington and little McHugh
+can't afford to quarrel. After the luncheon Mrs. G.P. will probably send
+Maimie a pair of long white gloves, and when their pristine freshness
+has departed, Maimie will wear them to the office a time or two."
+
+The Candy Man wished to know who Mrs. Gerrard Pennington was, anyway.
+
+"She, my ignorant friend, is a four-ply Colonial Dame, so to speak.
+Distinguished grandfathers to burn, and the dough to support them,
+unlike another friend of mine who possessed every qualification needed
+to become a C.D. except on the clothes line."
+
+"The joke," observed the Candy Man, "is old, but worth repeating. But did
+I understand you to say _another_ friend? And am I to infer----?"
+
+"You are far too keen for a Candy Man," said the Reporter, laughing.
+"Mrs. G.P. is friendly with the wealthy branch of our family. She
+regards my Cousin Augustus as a son. Now I think of it, your Miss
+Bentley cannot be her niece. She could scarcely fall out of a street
+car. A victoria or a limousine would be necessary in her case."
+
+The Candy Man did not see his way clear to disclaim proprietorship in
+Miss Bentley, so let it pass. Certainly, on other grounds his Miss
+Bentley, to call her so, could not be Mrs. Gerrard Pennington's niece.
+Not that she lacked the charm to grace any position however high, but
+her simplicity and friendliness, the fact that she walked in the country
+with a stoutish relative who was intimate with the family of the park
+superintendent, the marketing he had witnessed, all went to prove his
+point.
+
+Yet on the occasion of a fashionable noon wedding at the stone church
+near the Y.M.C.A. corner, all this impressive evidence was brought to
+naught. In the crush of machines and carriages the Candy Wagon was all
+but engulfed in high life. When the crowd surged out after the bridal
+party, the congestion for a few minutes baffled the efforts of the corps
+of police.
+
+The Candy Man, looking on with much amusement at the well-dressed
+throng, presently received a thrill at the sound of a clear young voice
+exclaiming, "Here is the car, Aunt Eleanor--over here."
+
+The haughtiest of limousines had taken up its station just beyond the
+Candy Wagon, and toward this the owner of the voice was piloting a
+majestic and breathless personage. If the Candy Man could have doubted
+his ears, he could not doubt his eyes. Here was the grace, the sparkle,
+the everything that made her his Miss Bentley, the Girl of All
+Others--except the grey suit. Now she wore velvet, and wonderful white
+plumes framed her face and touched her bright hair. No, there was no
+mistaking her. Reviewing the evidence he found it baffling. That absurd
+exclamation about lighthouses alone might be taken as indicating an
+unfamiliarity with the humbler walks of life.
+
+The Reporter was at this time in daily attendance upon a convention in
+progress in a neighbouring hall, and he rarely failed to stop at the
+carriage block and pass the time of day on his way to and fro.
+
+"Ah ha!" he exclaimed, on one of these occasions, after perusing in
+silence the first edition of the _Evening Record_; "I see my Cousin
+Augustus, on his return from New York, is to give a dinner dance in
+honour of Mrs. Gerrard Pennington's niece."
+
+"I appreciate your innocent pride in Cousin Augustus, but may I inquire
+if by chance he possesses another name?" The Candy Man spoke with
+uncalled-for asperity.
+
+"Sure," responded the Reporter, with a quizzical glance at his
+questioner; "several of 'em. Augustus Vincent McAllister is what he
+calls himself every day."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER FOUR
+
+_In which the Candy Man again sees the Grey Suit, and Virginia
+continues the story of the Little Red Chimney._
+
+
+It was Saturday afternoon, possibly the very next Saturday, or at most
+the Saturday after that, and the Candy Wagon was making money. The day
+of the week was unmistakable, for the working classes were getting home
+early; fathers of families with something extra for Sunday in paper bags
+under their arms. And the hat boxes! They passed the Candy Man's corner
+by the hundreds. Every feminine person in the big apartment houses must
+be intending to wear a new hat to-morrow.
+
+There was something special going on at the Country Club--the Candy Man
+had taken to reading the social column--and the people of leisure and
+semi-leisure were to be well represented there, to judge by the machines
+speeding up the avenue; among them quite probably Miss Bentley and Mr.
+Augustus McAllister.
+
+This not altogether pleasing reflection had scarcely taken shape in his
+mind, when, in the act of handing change to a customer, he beheld Miss
+Bentley coming toward him; without a doubt his Miss Bentley this time,
+for she wore the grey suit and the felt hat, jammed down any way on her
+bright hair and pinned with the pinkish quill. She was not alone. By
+her side walked a rather shabby, elderly man, with a rosy face, whose
+pockets bulged with newspapers, and who carried a large parcel. She was
+looking at him and he was looking at her, and they were both laughing.
+Comradeship of the most delightful kind was indicated.
+
+Without a glance in the direction of the Candy Wagon they passed. Well,
+at any rate she wasn't at the Country Club. But how queer!
+
+Earlier in the afternoon Virginia had gone by in dancing-school array,
+accompanied by an absurdly youthful mother. "I've got something to tell
+you," she called, and the Candy Man could see her being reproved for
+this unseemly familiarity.
+
+His curiosity was but mildly stirred; indeed, having other things to
+think of, he had quite forgotten the incident, when on Monday she
+presented herself swinging her school bag.
+
+"Say," she began, "I have found out about her Ladyship and the Little
+Red Chimney."
+
+"Oh, have you?" he answered vaguely.
+
+Virginia, resting her bag on the carriage block, looked disappointed.
+"I have been crazy to tell you, and now you don't care a bit."
+
+"Indeed I do," the Candy Man protested. "I'm a trifle absent-minded,
+that's all."
+
+Thus reassured she began: "Don't you know I told you I could see
+that chimney from our dining-room, and that I was going to watch it?
+Well, the other day at lunch I happened to look toward the window, and
+I jumped right out of my chair and clapped my hands and said, 'It's
+smoking, it's smoking!' There was company, and mother said, 'Good
+gracious, Virginia! what's smoking? You do make me so nervous!' Then
+I was sorry I'd said anything, because she wouldn't understand, you
+know. Well, after lunch I took one of Ted's balls, and went over to
+Uncle Bob's, and I got a little darkey boy to throw it in the yard, and
+then I went in to look for it. You see if Uncle Bob wasn't there and
+anybody asked me what I was doing, I could say I was looking for my
+brother's ball."
+
+"I fear you are a deep one," remarked the Candy Man.
+
+"No, I'm not, but I'm rather good at thinking of things," Virginia owned
+complacently. "And then," she continued, "I poked around the rose bush,
+and peeped in at the window, and sure enough she was there, brushing the
+hearth. She saw me and came to the window, and when I ran away, 'cause
+I thought maybe she was mad, she rapped, and then opened the window and
+called: 'Come in, little girl, and talk to me.' And now who do you think
+she turned out to be?"
+
+A suspicion had been deepening in the Candy Man's breast for the last
+few moments. His heart actually thumped. "Not--you don't mean----?"
+
+Virginia nodded violently. "Yes, the lady who fell and got muddy. And
+she's perfectly lovely, and I'm going there again. She asked me to."
+
+Why, oh, why should such luck fall to the lot of a long-legged,
+freckle-nosed little girl, and not to him, the Candy Man wondered.
+He burned to ask innumerable questions, but compromised on one. Did
+Virginia know whether or not she had come to stay?
+
+"Why, I guess so. She didn't have her hat on, and she was cleaning
+up--dusting, you know, and taking things out of a box."
+
+"What sort of things?"
+
+"Books and sofa pillows and pictures. I helped her, and by and by Uncle
+Bob came in."
+
+"And what did he say?" asked the Candy Man, just to keep her going.
+
+"Why, he said, didn't he tell me so? And wasn't it great to have her
+ladyship there?"
+
+"And what did her ladyship say?"
+
+"She said he was a dear, and I forget what else. Oh, but listen! I'll
+bet you can't guess what her name is."
+
+He couldn't. He had racked his brain for a name at once sweet enough and
+possessing sufficient dignity. He had not found it for the good reason
+that no such name has been invented.
+
+"It's a long name," said Virginia, "as long as mine. I am named for
+my grandmother, Mary Virginia, but they don't call me all of it." She
+paused to watch two white-plumed masons on their way to the commandery
+on the next block.
+
+"Well?" said the Candy Man.
+
+She laughed. "Oh, I forgot. Why, it is Margaret Elizabeth. The doctor
+came in; she's a lady doctor, you know, and said, 'Margaret Elizabeth,
+there'll be muffins for tea.' And she said, 'All right. Dr. Prue.' And
+Dr. Prue said, 'And cherry preserves, if you and Uncle Bob want them,'
+and Margaret Elizabeth said, 'Goody!' And I must go now," Virginia
+finished. "There's Betty looking for me."
+
+Virginia might go and welcome. He had enough to occupy his thought for
+the present. Margaret Elizabeth! Such a name would never have suggested
+itself to him, yet it suited her. Beneath her young gaiety and charm
+there was something the name fitted. Margaret Elizabeth! He loved it
+already.
+
+Why had he not guessed that the Little Red Chimney belonged to her?
+Had not the sight of it stirred his heart? And why should that have been
+so, except for some subtle fairy godmother suggestion? The picture of
+Margaret Elizabeth and Uncle Bob eating cherry preserves was a pleasant
+one. It brought her nearer. The Candy Man was inclined to like Uncle
+Bob, to think of him as a broad-minded person whose prejudices against
+Candy Men, granting he had them, might in time be overcome.
+
+From being a bit low in his mind, the Candy Man's mood became positively
+jovial. When the sad grey man known to the children as the Miser, and
+invested with mysterious and awful powers, stopped to buy some hoarhound
+drops, he wished him a cheery good afternoon.
+
+The Miser was evidently surprised, but responded courteously, and
+recalling the accident of two weeks ago, asked if the Candy Man had
+heard anything of the injured chauffeur.
+
+It chanced that he had heard the Reporter say, only yesterday, that the
+man was doing well and likely to recover.
+
+"And the young lady? I think I saw her the other day going into a house
+across the street from my own."
+
+"The house with the Little Red Chimney?" asked the Candy Man
+indiscreetly, forgetting himself for the moment.
+
+A smile slowly dawned on the face of the sad man, but quickly faded, as
+a flock of naughty pigeons tore by, screaming, "Lizer, Lizer, look out
+for the Miser!" If he had been about to make a comment, he thought
+better of it, and turned away.
+
+Having identified the Little Red Chimney as the property of the Girl
+of All Others, the Candy Man now made a new discovery. He had a room
+in one of the old residences of the neighbourhood, so many of which in
+these days were being given over to boarding and lodging. Its windows
+overlooked a back yard, in which grew a great ash, and he had been
+interested to observe how long after other trees were bare this one kept
+its foliage. He found it one morning, however, giving up its leaves by
+the wholesale, under the touch of a sharp frost; and, wonder of wonders!
+through its bared branches that magical chimney came into view, with a
+corner of grey roof.
+
+Not far away rose the big smoke stack belonging to the apartment houses,
+impressive in its loftiness, but to his fancy the Little Red Chimney
+held its own with dignity, standing for something unattainable by great
+smoke stacks, however important.
+
+The Candy Man, it will be seen, did not attempt to reconcile conflicting
+evidence. He took what suited him and ignored the rest. Was Miss Bentley
+the niece of Mrs. Gerrard Pennington? She was also the niece of Uncle
+Bob. Did she ride in haughty limousines? She also rode in street cars.
+Was she wined and dined by the rich? She also ate muffins and cherry
+preserves, and brushed up the hearth of the Little Red Chimney.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER FIVE
+
+_In which the double life led by the heroine is explained, and
+Augustus McAllister proves an alibi._
+
+
+"Yes," said Miss Bentley, "I liked him. He turned out to be altogether
+different from my first impressions. That afternoon at the Country
+Club he seemed rather stiff--nice, assured manners, of course, but
+unresponsive. But then the way in which we bounced in upon each other
+was enough to break any amount of ice." She laughed at the recollection,
+clasping her hands behind her head.
+
+Instead of the little grey hat jammed down anyhow, she wore this morning
+the most bewitching and frivolous of boudoir caps upon her bright head,
+and a shimmery, lacy empire something, that clung caressingly about her,
+and fell back becomingly from her round white arms. Miles and miles away
+from the Candy Wagon was Margaret Elizabeth, who had so recently
+hobnobbed down the avenue with Uncle Bob.
+
+Mrs. Gerrard Pennington, in a similar garb, leaned an elbow on her desk,
+a dainty French trifle, and gazed, perhaps a bit wistfully, at Margaret
+Elizabeth's endearing young charms. "I am delighted that you like
+Augustus. He is a young man of sterling qualities. His mother and I were
+warm friends; I take a deep interest in him. Of course he is not showy;
+perhaps he might be called a little slow; but he is substantial, and
+while I should be the last to place an undue emphasis upon wealth, one
+need not overlook its advantages. Augustus has had unusual
+opportunities."
+
+"Is Mr. McAllister rich?" Margaret Elizabeth dropped her arms in a
+surprise which in its turn stirred a like emotion in her aunt's breast,
+for Miss Bentley put rather a peculiar emphasis, it would seem, upon the
+word rich. "I should never have guessed it," she added.
+
+If Mrs. Pennington had been perfectly honest with herself, she would
+have perceived that her own surprise indicated a suspicion that minus
+his wealth the aforesaid sterling qualities were something of a dead
+weight, but not for worlds would she have owned this. It would be a
+great thing for Margaret Elizabeth, if she liked him. If she could be
+the means of establishing dear old Richard's child in a position such
+as the future Mrs. Augustus would occupy, she would feel she had done
+her full duty. Mrs. Pennington was strong in the matter of duty.
+
+"I should never have guessed it," Margaret Elizabeth repeated, after a
+minute spent in a quick review of that talk in the summer house.
+
+"It is not always possible, surely, to gauge a person's bank account in
+the course of one conversation," her aunt suggested.
+
+"I don't mean that; but don't you think, Aunt Eleanor, you can usually
+tell very rich people? They are apt to be limited, in a way. Not always,
+of course, but often. I can't explain it exactly. Perhaps it is
+over-refined."
+
+"If to be refined is to be limited, I prefer to be limited," Mrs.
+Pennington remarked.
+
+It was plain that unless Margaret Elizabeth went to the length of
+retailing the whole of that Sunday morning conversation, which was out
+of the question, she could not hope to make her meaning clear.
+
+"What surprises me," her aunt went on, "is that you should have met
+Augustus in a public park. It is very unlike him. I wonder what he
+thought of you?"
+
+This brought out Miss Bentley's dimples, as she owned he had seemed not
+displeased to meet her. "I explained that I was waiting for Dr. Prue,
+who had gone in to see one of the superintendent's children." She
+further assured her aunt that River Bend Park was a delightful place in
+which to enjoy nature, on Sunday morning or any other time.
+
+"I confess I do not choose a public park when I wish to enjoy
+nature--except for driving, of course. Perhaps," added Mrs. Pennington,
+"that is what you call over-refined."
+
+Margaret Elizabeth considered this thoughtfully. "Perhaps it is," she
+said. "Not being able to enjoy things that are free to everybody."
+
+But Margaret Elizabeth in that frivolously-becoming cap was an antidote
+to her own remarks. Mrs. Pennington smiled indulgently. Richard's
+daughter came honestly by some eccentricities, not to mention those
+Vandegrifts, whose influence she greatly deplored.
+
+"You will outgrow these socialistic ideas, my dear," she said. "But
+I am still puzzled, the more I think of it, at your meeting Augustus on
+Sunday morning. Was it two weeks ago? I am under the impression he left
+for New York that very day."
+
+"He didn't mention it, but there are afternoon trains," answered
+Margaret Elizabeth. "He merely said something about a sick boy he was
+going to see at St. Mary's."
+
+This again was very unlike Augustus, but Mrs. Pennington said no more.
+Meanwhile the faintest shadow of a doubt was dawning in her niece's
+mind; so shadowy she was scarcely aware of it, until, glowing from her
+walk across the park, she entered the drawing-room that afternoon.
+
+There is, by the way, a difference between walking in Sunset Park, the
+abode of the elect, with a huge St. Bernard in leash, and taking the
+same exercise at River Bend, unchaperoned save by a chance guard. Any
+right-minded person must see this.
+
+A young man, who sat talking to Mrs. Gerrard Pennington before the fire,
+rose at her entrance.
+
+"I am glad you have come, Margaret Elizabeth," her aunt exclaimed.
+"I think you know Mr. McAllister? But we have rather a good joke on
+you, for August says he was never in his life in River Bend Park."
+
+"How do you do, Miss Bentley. Awfully glad to see you. That is, except
+to motor through, don't you know, Mrs. Pennington."
+
+Miss Bentley's brown eyes met Mr. McAllister's blue ones, and in the
+period of one brief glance she experienced almost as many sensations,
+and reviewed as much past history, as the proverbial drowning man.
+The casual resemblance was striking. But the eyes--these were not the
+friendly, merry eyes to which she had confided the fairy godmother
+nonsense. Fancy so much as mentioning fairy godmothers in the presence
+of these steely orbs.
+
+Margaret Elizabeth was game, however.
+
+"I was mistaken, of course," she owned lightly, as she shook hands.
+"I have met so many people, and am stupid at connecting names and faces.
+I recall Mr. McAllister perfectly." And straightway she plunged into
+New York and what was going on there. Had he seen "Grumpy" and wasn't it
+dear? And so on, and so on. Margaret Elizabeth could talk, and more than
+this she could look bewitching, and did, when she slipped out of her
+long coat, and with many graceful upward motions, removed her hat and
+fluffed her hair.
+
+She would make tea, she loved to, in fact she seemed bent upon luring
+Augustus away from the fire and Mrs. Pennington. This young gentleman,
+whose mental processes were not rapid, and who habitually overworked any
+idea that found lodgment in his mind, was disposed to dwell upon River
+Bend Park and Miss Bentley's strange mistake in thinking she had seen
+him there, when actually, don't you know, he was on his way to New York.
+It was just as well not to have the situation complicated by the
+presence of her more alert relative, whose amused glances kept the glow
+on Margaret Elizabeth's cheek at a most becoming pitch. Perhaps, too,
+the subconscious thinking concerning that same queer mistake, which went
+on while she chatted so gaily, so skilfully leading the way to safer
+ground, had something to do with it.
+
+Augustus, unaware that he was led, was as clay in her hands. He warmed
+to her expressions of pleasure in the proposed dinner dance, which were
+indeed entirely genuine. A dance was a dance, and Miss Bentley was
+young. As she poured tea her curling lashes rested now on her cheek,
+were now lifted in smiling glances at the complacent Augustus, much as
+when on a certain Sunday morning, while softly laying bloom against
+bloom, her eyes had now and again met the eyes of the Candy Man. There
+were other callers, other tea drinkers, but to none did Mr. McAllister
+surrender his place of vantage.
+
+"If she keeps on like this, Augustus is hers--if she wants him,"
+Mr. Gerrard Pennington remarked to his wife later in the evening.
+
+"If I could have her all to myself," Mrs. Pennington sighed; "but any
+impression I may make is neutralised by her association with those
+Vandegrifts. It is an absurd arrangement, spending half her time down
+there."
+
+"I think you are rather in the lead, aren't you, my dear?"
+
+Mrs. Pennington shrugged her shoulders, but there was some triumph in
+her smile. "She is a dear child, in spite of some absurd notions, and
+I long to see her well and safely settled. I don't quite know in what
+her charm most lies, but she has it."
+
+"Oh, it's her youth, and the conviction that it is all so jolly well
+worth while. She is so keen about everything." There was an odd twinkle
+in Mr. Pennington's eyes, usually so piercing beneath their bushy grey
+brows. Margaret Elizabeth called him Uncle Gerry. It was amusing. He
+liked it, and enjoyed playing the part of Uncle Gerry. "Of course she's
+bound to get over that. Still, I shouldn't be in any haste to settle
+her."
+
+His wife thought of her brother, the Professor of Archćology, now in
+the Far East. "It is queer, but Dick never has," she said, answering
+the first part of his sentence. But when she spoke again, it was to
+say energetically: "The Towers needs a mistress, and August is
+irreproachable. Really, I am devoted to the boy."
+
+Mr. Pennington found this amusing.
+
+"If only it were a colonial house. It is handsome, but I prefer simpler
+lines," Mrs. Pennington continued meditatively.
+
+The Towers was a combination of feudal castle and Swiss châlet erected
+thirty years before by the parents of Augustus, and occupying a
+commanding position on Sunset Ridge. The irreverent sometimes referred
+to it as the Salt Shakers.
+
+Margaret Elizabeth meanwhile, in the solitude of her own room, was
+asking herself questions, for which she found no answers.
+
+"Who--oh, who was this person with the nice friendly eyes that led one
+on to talk about fairy godmothers?"
+
+She considered it in profound seriousness for a time, then suddenly
+broke into unrestrained laughter.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER SIX
+
+_In which Margaret Elizabeth is discussed at the Breakfast Table; in
+which also, later on, she and Virginia and Uncle Bob talk before the
+fire, and in which finally Margaret Elizabeth seeks consolation by
+relating to Uncle Bob her adventure in the park._
+
+
+"No, she is not regularly beautiful," remarked Dr. Prue in her
+diagnostician manner as she poured her father's second cup of coffee,
+"but there is much that is captivating about her. Her hair grows
+prettily on her forehead, the firmness of her chin, the line of her lips
+in repose----"
+
+"Mercy on us! You talk like a novel," interrupted Uncle Bob, who was
+longing to get in an oar. "Now I like her best when she laughs."
+
+"But I was speaking of her face in repose."
+
+"And any way," persisted Uncle Bob, "if she isn't a beauty, I don't know
+what you call it. She has the witchingest ways!"
+
+"We were speaking of features, not ways. If you dissect her----"
+
+"Good Heavens, Prue! Find another word."
+
+"If you dissect her," the doctor repeated firmly, "you will find nothing
+remarkable in her separate features."
+
+"But I insist," Uncle Bob spoke in a loud tone, and brought his fist
+down so emphatically his coffee spilled over into the saucer, "that
+beauty is a complex thing consisting of ways as well as features."
+The sentence was concluded in a milder tone, owing to the coffee.
+
+"Nancy, give Mr. Vandegrift another saucer," said Dr. Prue.
+
+"My dear, there is no need. I can pour this back," he protested. Then, a
+fresh saucer having been substituted, he went on: "Take a landscape----"
+
+"I haven't time for landscapes this morning, father. I am due at the
+hospital at nine. You'll have to excuse me."
+
+"Well, what I was going to say is, that it is the combination of all
+her separate qualities and characteristics, manifested in ways and
+otherwise, that is beautiful--that constitutes beauty. The something
+that makes her Margaret Elizabeth, that subtle--" Uncle Bob was talking
+against time.
+
+"Now, father," Dr. Prue pushed back her chair and rose, "there is
+nothing subtle about Margaret Elizabeth, and you know it. She is a
+thoroughly nice, quite pretty girl, and that is all there is to it. If
+those Penningtons don't spoil her." With this the doctor disappeared.
+
+"Miss Prue and her pa do argufy to beat the band," Nancy remarked to
+Jenny the cook as she waited for hot cakes.
+
+"That's all, Nancy. I shan't want any more," her master told her when
+she carried them into the dining-room. "You needn't wait." As the door
+closed behind her he smiled to himself. He always enjoyed the leisurely
+comfort of those last cakes.
+
+The morning sun shone in brightly, emphasising the pleasant, substantial
+appointments of the room and the breakfast table. Its glint in the old
+silver coffee pot was a joy to him; the unopened paper at his elbow
+spoke to him of the interests of a day, like it, not yet unfolded. Uncle
+Bob after his own fashion savoured life....
+
+[Illustration: DR. PRUE]
+
+The sun had travelled around the house and was looking in at the west
+window of the Little Red Chimney Room, when Virginia discovered her
+ladyship sitting on a low stool by her hearthstone deep in meditation.
+"I saw the smoke," she announced, "so I thought I'd come over."
+
+"I am glad to see you," Margaret Elizabeth said, waking up. "But what
+smoke do you mean?" And now it developed that although Miss Bentley was
+of course aware of the Little Red Chimney, and indeed preferred it red,
+she had not understood its significance.
+
+In amused interest she listened while Virginia explained. "That dear,
+ridiculous Uncle Bob!" she cried, hugging her knees. "And what fun,
+Virginia!"
+
+Virginia nodded. "Like a fairy-tale," she said.
+
+"So it is," Miss Bentley agreed, and became again lost in thought.
+
+From the other side of the hearth Virginia watched her. Her ladyship
+to-day wore a grey-blue gown with a broad white collar, and she
+contrasted harmoniously with the soft browns and greens of her
+surroundings. Uncle Bob should have been there to enjoy the glint of
+the sunshine in her hair.
+
+It was an unobtrusive room, abounding in pleasant suggestions if you sat
+still and let them sink in: books around the walls, a few water colours
+and bits of porcelain, an open piano, a work table, a broad divan with
+many cushions, ferns in the windows, and the fire.
+
+Virginia, however, saw nothing of this; she was looking at Margaret
+Elizabeth. "The Candy Man wanted to know where you stayed when you
+weren't here," she remarked at length.
+
+Miss Bentley came out of her brown study in great surprise. Who in the
+world was the Candy Man?
+
+"Why, you know the Candy Wagon on the Y.M.C.A. corner! And don't you
+remember how you fell in the mud, and the Candy Man helped you up, and
+I gave you your bag, and the Miser was there too?" Virginia spoke in
+patient toleration of Miss Bentley's strange lapse of memory.
+
+"Naturally I was rather shaken and didn't notice. Was it a Candy Man who
+picked me up? And a miser, you say?" Chin in hand Margaret Elizabeth
+regarded her visitor. "It is all very interesting, but why should the
+Candy Man wish to know about me?"
+
+Virginia owned that she had mentioned the Little Red Chimney to him,
+and that when the identity of her ladyship had come to light, he had
+exclaimed, "I might have guessed!"
+
+"Well, really," said Miss Bentley, sitting up very straight, "what
+business is it of his to be guessing about me?"
+
+"He isn't Irish like Tim," Virginia hastened to assure her. "He's very
+nice. He's a friend of mine."
+
+Margaret Elizabeth laughed. "That makes it all right, I suppose; and if
+he picked me up--But who is the Miser?"
+
+"He lives over there," Virginia pointed toward the front window, "in
+that stone house with the vine on it. Aleck says he has rooms and rooms
+full of money."
+
+The house she indicated was almost black with time and soot, but its
+fine proportions suggested spacious, high-ceiled rooms, and whatever its
+present condition, a past of dignity and importance.
+
+"How extremely interesting! What a remarkable neighbourhood this seems
+to be!"
+
+"Is it like a fairy-tale where you stay when you aren't here?" Virginia
+asked.
+
+Sudden illumination came to Margaret Elizabeth. "That is just what it
+isn't," she cried. "It's splendid and beautiful, and all sorts of
+things, except a fairy-tale. I wonder why? I love fairy-tales and Little
+Red Chimneys."
+
+"So does the Candy Man," exclaimed Virginia, charmed at the coincidence.
+"It must be fun to be a Candy Man," she continued. "It isn't much like
+a fairy-tale where I live. I should like to live in a sure-enough house
+with stairs."
+
+"You talk like a squirrel who lives in a tree. And speaking of squirrels,
+you and I must buy some nuts for our bunny sometime, from this Candy
+Man. If he picked me up I suppose I ought to patronise him. All the
+same, Virginia," and now Miss Bentley spoke with great seriousness,
+"I wish you not to say anything about me to him. It is rather silly,
+you know."
+
+Virginia did not know, but she longed to do in every particular what
+Miss Bentley desired, so she promised.
+
+The opal lights in the western sky were the only reminders left of the
+sunny day, when Uncle Bob, seated comfortably in the big armchair,
+listened to Margaret Elizabeth's confession, the flames dancing and
+curling around a fresh log meanwhile. In size it was but a modest log,
+for the fireplace was neither wide nor deep like those at Pennington
+Park, but the Little Red Chimney did its part so merrily and well that
+upon no other hearth could the flames dance and curl so gaily. At least
+so it had seemed to Margaret Elizabeth, sitting there chin in hand,
+after Virginia's departure.
+
+"And you are certain you never met him before?" Uncle Bob ran his
+fingers through his hair and frowned thoughtfully.
+
+"Perfectly certain. You see the resemblance was remarkable, all but
+the eyes, and I thought Mr. McAllister had simply waked up. People
+are sometimes stiff when you first meet them. He knew who I was, for
+he called me Miss Bentley. Naturally I thought it was some one I had
+met--particularly when he mentioned the accident. You see, in getting
+out of the machine at the Country Club a day or two before I caught
+my skirt in the door and fell, striking my elbow. It didn't amount to
+anything, though it hurt for a minute, but Aunt Eleanor made a great
+fuss. He may have been somewhere about at the time, but I didn't meet
+him. And it makes me furious," Margaret Elizabeth continued, "when
+I think of his not telling me."
+
+"Telling you that you didn't know him?" asked Uncle Bob.
+
+"Certainly, he should have said at the very beginning, 'Miss Bentley,
+you are mistaken in thinking you know me.'"
+
+"Ha! ha!" laughed Uncle Bob.
+
+"Now what are you laughing at?" his niece demanded. "Honestly, don't you
+think he should have?" But she laughed herself.
+
+"Well, perhaps," he owned, reflecting, however, that if Margaret
+Elizabeth looked half so alluring that morning as she did now in her
+grey-blue frock, with her bright hair a bit tumbled, it was asking a
+good deal of human nature.
+
+"Now, of course, Uncle Bob, this is strictly confidential. I wouldn't
+have Dr. Prue know for the world. It is bad enough to have Aunt Eleanor
+smiling sarcastically, though she doesn't know half. I think I have at
+length quieted her, and the great Augustus is entirely mollified." She
+paused to laugh again, then continued tragically, "Sympathy is what I
+need now. To begin with, it was the most perfect day--the sort to make
+you forget tiresome conventions."
+
+Uncle Bob nodded. "Perhaps he forgot, too," he suggested.
+
+Margaret Elizabeth bit her lip. "That's true. I must try to be fair.
+He had nice eyes, Uncle Bob--with a twinkle in them." A smile played
+over her lips, her dimple came and went. She gazed absently at the
+curling flame. Suddenly she rose from her ottoman, and seated herself
+bolt upright on the sofa with one of the plumpest cushions behind her.
+"All the same it was inexcusable in me," she declared sternly.
+
+"What was?" asked her uncle.
+
+"The nonsense I talked. About a Fairy Godmother Society! No doubt he was
+laughing in his sleeve all the time."
+
+"Oh, I guess not. It sounds quite original and interesting. Have you
+copyrighted the idea?"
+
+"Uncle Bob, you are a dear. Some time I'll tell you all about it--when
+I get over feeling so terribly, if I ever do."
+
+"Now, really," insisted Uncle Bob, "I don't see why you should worry.
+You are almost certain to meet him again, and----"
+
+"I shall die if I do," Margaret Elizabeth declared; but somehow the
+assertion failed to ring true.
+
+"From what you have said he is plainly a gentleman, and altogether
+matters might be worse," Uncle Bob concluded.
+
+Miss Bentley shook her head. "I don't see how they could be," she
+insisted.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER SEVEN
+
+_Shows how the Candy Wagon is visited in behalf of the Squirrel, and
+how pride suffers a fall; how Miss Bentley turns to Vedantic Philosophy
+to drown her annoyance, and discovers how hard it is to forget when you
+wish to._
+
+
+"When I reflect upon the small weight attaching to true worth
+unsupported by personal charm, I am tempted to turn cynic."
+
+Dr. Prue closed her bag with a snap and lifted her arms to adjust a
+hatpin.
+
+"Youth and beauty take the trick, that's a fact." Uncle Bob laughed as
+if he found it a delicious comedy.
+
+They stood before the office window. At the gate the Apartment Pigeons
+were fluttering around Margaret Elizabeth, while her ladyship gravely
+admonished them for some piece of mischief.
+
+"I believe she is taming the terrors," remarked the doctor.
+
+"She had them all in the other afternoon," said Uncle Bob, "sitting
+cross-legged on the floor like little Orientals, while she told them
+stories. Margaret Elizabeth can manage them!" His tone thrilled with
+pride.
+
+"Yes, and Miss Kitty Molloy will drop anything she has on hand to work
+for Miss Bentley; the market-man picks out his choicest fruit for her;
+and so it goes, if you call it managing. Well, I must be off. Good-by."
+
+As Dr. Prue went out, Margaret Elizabeth, having dismissed the pigeons
+for the time being, came in, and sat down at her desk to finish a
+letter.
+
+She wrote: "Yes, Uncle Bob and Cousin Prue argue as much as ever, and
+I suspect that more often than not I am the subject upon which they
+disagree. I am in a state of disagreement about myself, father dear.
+Society is absorbing beyond anything I dreamed of, and if I had not
+promised you to stop and think for at least ten minutes out of the
+fourteen hundred and forty, I fear I should have already become a real
+Society Person."
+
+At this point Uncle Bob looked in. "Well, how many parties on hand now?"
+he asked.
+
+Margaret Elizabeth laid down her pen and counted them off on her
+fingers, beginning with a tea at five, theatre and supper afterward, and
+so on, till the supply of fingers threatened to become exhausted.
+
+"Go on, I'll lend you mine," said Uncle Bob. "Prue says," he added,
+"that it is enough to kill you, but you look pretty strong."
+
+"She wouldn't mind if I worked my fingers to the bone for her hospital
+or the Suffrage Association, but I want a little fun first, Uncle Bob."
+Margaret Elizabeth supported an adorable chin in a pink palm and
+regarded her relative appealingly.
+
+"That's what I tell Prue. It is natural you should like best to stay at
+Pennington Park, and go about in a splendid machine. I don't blame you
+in the least, and I don't wish you to feel bound to come down here when
+you don't really care to. Much as I love to have you, I shall not be
+hurt." Uncle Bob nodded at Margaret Elizabeth with a reassuring smile
+that in spite of intentions was a bit wistful too.
+
+"I don't believe you understand, and for that matter, neither do I. I
+love you best, and the Little Red Chimney, and this darling room. There
+aren't any fairies at Pennington Park, but--I do like the whirl, the
+fun, the pretty things, and----"
+
+"The admiration, Margaret Elizabeth; out with it. You'll feel better,"
+said Uncle Bob.
+
+"Well, yes, people _do_ like me, and oh, I must show you
+something!" She sprang up, and from a box lying on the sofa she took a
+filmy, rose-coloured fabric. "What do you think of this?" she demanded,
+shaking out the shimmering folds before his surprised eyes.
+
+He rose nobly to the occasion. "Why, it looks like a sunset cloud. Is it
+to wear?"
+
+"Certainly. It is a pattern robe. Miss Kitty across the street is going
+to put it together for me. She is a genius. Sunset cloud is very poetic.
+Thank you, Uncle Bob. And now I must finish my letter before I go over
+to Miss Kitty's, and then I promised the children I'd go with them to
+buy some nuts for the squirrel. A bunny who has the courage to live so
+far downtown should be rewarded. I wish you had been here, Uncle Bob, to
+join our society." Margaret Elizabeth sat down with the rosy cloud all
+about her, and laughed at the recollection. "Never again will they throw
+a stone at his bunnyship. We laid our hands together so, and swore by
+the paw of the cinnamon bear and the ear of the tailless cat, to take
+the part of our brother beasts and birds. It was all on the spur of the
+moment, or I might have done better, but they were impressed."
+
+[Illustration: UNCLE BOB]
+
+"I should think so, indeed," remarked her uncle. "You are a sort of
+philanthropist after all."
+
+"Yes, I have a very marked bump. That reminds me, if I don't see Dr.
+Prue, you tell her, please, that I am going to take Augustus McAllister
+to the Suffrage meeting."
+
+Having returned her robe to its box, Miss Bentley sat down at her desk
+and wrote furiously for five minutes, then folded her letter, put it
+in the envelope, and addressed, stamped, and sealed it, concluding the
+business with a resolute fist. Shortly after, in the familiar grey suit,
+with the little grey hat jammed down anyhow on her bright hair, she went
+forth, the box containing the sunset cloud under her arm.
+
+Homage and admiration attended upon her within Miss Kitty's humble
+establishment, and waited outside in the persons of the adoring pigeons.
+Virginia, having been unable to keep the story of the Little Red Chimney
+to herself, must now in consequence share her ladyship with the flock.
+But certain privileges were hers--to walk next to Miss Bentley and clasp
+her disengaged hand; to carry her bag or book; to act as her prime
+minister in keeping order.
+
+Thus Miss Bentley went her triumphant way that afternoon, all
+unconscious that there was any triumph about it. Not that she was wholly
+unaware of her own charm. As she confessed to Uncle Bob, she knew people
+liked her, and the knowledge was pleasing. She was now on her way to be
+gracious to the Candy Man, and in this connection she had rehearsed a
+neat little scene in which she stood by and allowed the children to make
+their purchases, and then at the right moment asked easily if there had
+been any more accidents on the corner of late, adding something about
+his kindness in helping her up, and so on. The Candy Man would of course
+touch his cap, for from Virginia's account he was rather a nice Candy
+Man, and reply, "Not at all, Miss," or "That's all right"; then she
+would smile upon him and the incident would be closed.
+
+The first half of the scene went off perfectly. The Candy Man was
+selling taffy to a nurse-maid when they approached, and if he saw who
+was coming, and if his heart was in his mouth, and if he felt a wild
+longing to escape from the Candy Wagon, he gave no sign. To Margaret
+Elizabeth, as they waited, he was a Candy Man in white jacket and cap,
+and nothing more.
+
+The pigeons fluttered joyously. Miss Bentley uttered an impersonal good
+afternoon, Virginia advanced, a silver quarter in her palm, and demanded
+chestnuts for the squirrel. The bag was filled and held out to her, and
+as she handed over the quarter in exchange she explained, gratuitously,
+"We'll perhaps eat _some_ of them ourselves."
+
+At this the Candy Man looked up with a smile in his eyes, and met the
+glance of Miss Bentley, who immediately forgot all she had intended to
+say, for these were the eyes that were not the eyes of Augustus. There
+was no excuse for arguing the question. She knew it.
+
+The point was, after all, Margaret Elizabeth concluded in the solitude
+of her own hearth-stone, not whether she had been equal to the occasion
+to-day--and she hadn't--but that he on a former occasion had been guilty
+of base behaviour. If this were a real Candy Man, one might excuse him,
+but he plainly was not. There was a mystery, and she loathed mysteries.
+She was annoyed to the point of exasperation. She would dismiss him from
+her mind now and forever.
+
+Uncle Bob, reading the evening paper in the dining-room while Nancy set
+the table, admitting as she passed back and forth an occasional savoury
+odor from the kitchen region, became aware of sounds in the hall which
+betokened some one descending the stairs in haste. The next moment
+Margaret Elizabeth stood in the doorway.
+
+"Uncle Bob," she said, as she drew a long white glove over her elbow,
+her face shadowed by her plumy hat, "you remember you said it might be
+worse, and I insisted it couldn't be? You were right, it is infinitely
+worse."
+
+With this she was gone, and a premonitory buzz of great dignity and
+reserve from the street presently indicated that she was being borne
+away in the Pennington car.
+
+And now it was that Miss Bentley discovered how impossible it is to
+forget when you wish to. You may assist a treacherous memory with a
+memorandum, but no corresponding resource offers when you wish to
+forget. You may succeed in diverting your thoughts for a time, but
+sooner or later, ten to one, in the most illogical manner, the very
+thing you seek to avoid forces itself upon your attention. What could
+have seemed further away from the Candy Man than ancient Hindoo
+Philosophy? And into this she plunged to drown her annoyance, and
+incidentally help a fellow member of the Tuesday Club. Margaret
+Elizabeth was ever ready to fill in a breach, and when Miss Allen came
+to her in despair, having been positively forbidden to use her eyes,
+she obligingly agreed to help her.
+
+The subject grew, as all subjects have a way of doing. It was a
+providential ordering, Uncle Bob remarked, enabling the writers of
+papers to take refuge from criticism in the impressive statement that
+it is impossible to treat of the matter adequately in so short a space.
+Margaret Elizabeth laughed, and crossed out a paragraph at the bottom of
+her first page, and then set out for the Public Library.
+
+Seated in the Reference Room, with more books than she could read in a
+year on the table before her, behold Miss Bentley presently inconsolable
+for lack of a certain authority she chanced to remember in the college
+library at home. The whole force of the Reference Room mourned with her,
+for Margaret Elizabeth in the part of earnest student was no less
+captivating than in her other roles.
+
+"I know where there is a copy," said the youngest and wisest of the
+force, "but it won't do you any good. Mr. Knight, the man the children
+call the Miser, has one."
+
+"I'll go and ask him to let me see it. I'd like to know a real live
+miser." Margaret Elizabeth closed the book she had in hand and rose.
+
+The force gasped at her temerity. They had heard he was a horrid old
+man; but the youngest observed wisely that probably he wouldn't bite.
+
+Miss Bentley, however, having recently developed a bump of discretion,
+did first consult Dr. Prue in the matter, who responded, "Why certainly,
+I see no objection to your asking to see the book. Mr. Knight is a
+harmless, studious man. I have met him on two occasions when I was
+called in to attend his housekeeper, Mrs. Sampson, and he was courtesy
+itself. I will go with you and introduce you, if you like."
+
+Virginia, hanging around and overhearing, begged to be allowed to go
+too. "I'd love to see the inside of his house," she urged.
+
+She was assured she would find it stupid, but this was as nothing
+compared with the glory of entering the abode of the Miser in company
+with her ladyship, and the other pigeons looking enviously on outside.
+
+Dr. Prue, of course, had no time to waste, so Margaret Elizabeth
+hastened to find her pad and pencil, and across the street they went
+forthwith. The Miser was discovered in his library, a spacious, shabby
+room, yet not too shabby for dignity, full of valuable and even rare
+things, such as old prints and engravings, and most of all of books,
+which overflowed their shelves in a scholarly disorder not unfamiliar
+to Margaret Elizabeth.
+
+With businesslike brevity Dr. Vandegrift presented her cousin and her
+credentials to Mr. Knight, who, with a quaint and formal courtesy, was
+happy to oblige the daughter of an author so distinguished in his chosen
+field.
+
+Miss Bentley in her turn presented, with suitable gravity, Miss Virginia
+Brooks, who promised to be quiet as a mouse, and whose eyes betrayed her
+disappointment on discovering the inside of the Miser's house to be so
+much like any other.
+
+After the necessary stir attending upon the finding of the desired
+volume, and getting settled to work, profound quiet again rested upon
+the library. Margaret Elizabeth wrote busily, her book propped upon a
+small stand before her, while across the room Virginia softly turned the
+leaves of a huge volume of engravings, pausing now and then to rest her
+cheek in her palm and regard the Miser steadily for a moment.
+
+The master of the library had the air of having forgotten their presence
+altogether. Aided by a microscope, with a grave absorbed face, he
+studied and compared a series of prints spread before him. So quiet was
+it all, that the crackle and purr of the coal fire in the old-fashioned
+grate made itself quite audible, and the leisurely tick of the clock in
+the hall marked time solemnly.
+
+Margaret Elizabeth's interest in Vedantic Philosophy began after a time
+to wane, and she allowed her attention to wander about the room, from
+object to object, until it concentrated upon the student himself. Was
+he really a miser? she wondered. He did not look it. His was rather the
+face of an ascetic. Suddenly it flashed into her mind that here was the
+sad, grey man of that unforgettable conversation in the park.
+
+Virginia slipped down and came to her side. "Is there really a room full
+of gold?" she whispered.
+
+Margaret Elizabeth shook her head sternly. It was time they were going.
+Her hand was tired. She would ask permission to come again. As she
+returned her book to the shelf, she displaced a smaller one, a shabby
+leather-bound book, at which she scarcely glanced, but upon which
+Virginia seized.
+
+"The Candy Man has one like this," she said. "Such a funny name! See?
+Only his is Vol. one and this is Vol. two."
+
+Miss Bentley cared not at all what strange books the Candy Man owned,
+and said so, frowning so severely you could scarcely have believed her
+to be the same person who only a few minutes later was thanking the
+Miser with such alluring grace of manner.
+
+She was welcome to come when she chose, she was assured, with grave
+politeness. His library was at her disposal.
+
+"You have many beautiful things," said Margaret Elizabeth. "This
+portrait above the mantel, for instance, seems to me very interesting."
+
+The portrait in question was rather a splendid one of a military-looking
+man probably in his thirties. One of the best examples of Jouett's work
+it was generally considered, Mr. Knight explained, and said to have been
+an admirable likeness of his uncle, General Waite, at the time it was
+painted.
+
+It was inexplicable that as Margaret Elizabeth gazed up at the general
+the eyes beneath the stern brows should become the eyes of the Candy
+Man. But her exasperation at this absurd illusion passed quickly into
+horrified embarrassment, when Virginia, edging toward the master of the
+house, asked explosively, "Say, have you really got a room full of
+gold?"
+
+"There is one thing certain, you can never go there with me again," said
+Miss Bentley, on their way across the street.
+
+"But Aleck said----" began the culprit.
+
+"Never mind what he said. Aleck is a very ignorant little boy. People
+don't keep gold in rooms. If they have it they put it in the bank or
+send it to the mint."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER EIGHT
+
+_In which the Miser's past history is touched upon; which shows how
+his solitude is again invaded, and how he makes a new friend._
+
+
+"There isn't any mystery about _him_, so far as I know," said the
+Reporter, who was seated as usual upon the carriage block. The Candy
+Wagon continued to act as a magnet for him, and in season and out his
+genial presence confronted the Candy Man.
+
+If his emphasis upon the pronoun was noticed, it was ignored. The
+mystery was, the Candy Man replied, how with such a face he could be a
+miser.
+
+"Oh, he's a bit nutty, of course. My grandmother says his money came to
+him unexpectedly and the shock was too much for him. They say he has a
+notion he is holding it in trust. He is rational enough in every other
+way, a shrewd investor, in fact. His uncle, General Waite, who left him
+the money, was a connection of my grandmother's."
+
+"The Miser is a cousin then?"
+
+"Not on your tintype, my friend. Old Knight was a nephew of the
+general's wife, you see."
+
+"And there were no other heirs?" asked the Candy Man.
+
+"There was an own nephew, I have heard, who mysteriously disappeared
+shortly before the general's death. I have heard my grandmother mention
+it, but it was long before my day. Why are you interested?"
+
+Even to himself the Candy Man could not quite explain his interest in
+this sad and lonely man, except that, as he had told Miss Bentley in
+their first and only conversation, he had a habit of getting interested
+in people. For example, in the house where he roomed there was a young
+couple who just now engaged his sympathies. The husband, a teacher in
+the Boys' High School, had been ill with typhoid, and the little wife's
+anxious face haunted the Candy Man. The husband was recovering, but of
+course the long illness had overtaxed their small resources, and--But,
+oh dear! weren't there hundreds of such cases? What was the good of
+thinking about it! Yet suppose there were a Fairy Godmother Society?
+
+The Candy Man was a foolish dreamer, and his favourite dream in these
+days was of some time sitting beside the Little Red Chimney hearth, and
+discussing the Fairy Godmother Society with Miss Bentley. These bright
+dreams, however, were interspersed by moments of extreme depression, in
+which he cursed the day upon which he had become a Candy Man; moments
+when the horrified surprise in the eyes of Miss Bentley as she
+recognised him, rose up to torment him.
+
+It was in one of these that the Reporter had presented himself this
+time, and when he was gone the Candy Man returned to his gloom. Having
+nothing else to do just then he opened the shabby book with the funny
+name, and looked at the crimson flower. Through the stain of the flower
+he read:
+
+    _"If a person is fearful and abject, what else is necessary but
+    to apply for permission to bury him as if he were dead."_
+
+
+The book had come into his possession by a curious chance not long
+before, and he treasured it, not so much for its sturdy philosophy, as
+because it was in some sort a link to the shadowy past of his early
+childhood.
+
+The adjectives "fearful" and "abject" brought him up short. What manner
+of man was he to be so quickly overwhelmed by difficulties? As for being
+a Candy Man, did he not owe to this despised position his good fortune
+in meeting Miss Bentley at all?
+
+Somewhere about eight o'clock the next evening, being Sunday, he might
+have been seen strolling by the house of the Little Red Chimney. That
+particular architectural feature had lost its identity in the shades of
+evening, but he was indulging the characteristic desire of a lover to
+gaze at his lady's window under the kindly cover of the night.
+
+The blind was drawn within a few inches of the sill, but these inches
+allowed him a glimpse of a blazing fire, and while he lingered a shadow
+flitted across the curtain in its direction, and then another, until in
+his mind's eye he beheld Margaret Elizabeth and Uncle Bob seated beside
+the hearth. For aught he knew, it might be Augustus McAllister making
+an evening call, but the Candy Man was just then too determinedly
+optimistic to harbour such an idea.
+
+[Illustration: THE MISER]
+
+As he passed on he was occupied in trying to picture to himself her
+ladyship sitting before her fire, but that familiar little grey hat,
+which was so entirely inappropriate, would persist, in spite of all he
+could do, in getting into the picture. Only once, when curling plumes
+took its place, had he seen her without it, and though for an instant he
+would succeed in removing it, presto! before he knew it, there it was
+again, jammed down anyhow on her bright hair.
+
+With odds in favour of the hat, the struggle came to a sudden pause at
+sight of a tall figure leaning heavily and in evident pain against one
+of the ornamental iron fences which prevailed along this street. At once
+proffering his assistance, he recognised Mr. Knight, the Miser.
+
+It was plain the sufferer would have preferred to decline help. It would
+soon pass. It was nothing. He had had such attacks before. He spoke
+brokenly, adding, "I thank you," in a tone of dismissal.
+
+The Candy Man showed himself to be, when occasion demanded, a masterful
+person. Without arguing the point, he supported the Miser with a firm
+arm and began to urge him in the direction of his home. Mr. Knight, half
+fainting as he was, submitted without a word until his door was reached;
+then, there being no response to his companion's vigorous ring, he
+murmured something about the servants having gone, and began to fumble
+in his pocket.
+
+The Candy Man, taking the latch key from his trembling fingers, opened
+the door, and ignoring the evident expectation conveyed in his renewed
+thanks, continued to assert authority, supporting the invalid into his
+library. "I shall not leave you alone until you are relieved," he said.
+
+Again Mr. Knight submitted to his captor's will, and lying back in his
+arm-chair directed him to the restorative that was prescribed for these
+seizures. When it had been administered he lay quiet with closed eyes.
+
+The Candy Man now turned his attention to the fire, which had burned
+low, coaxing it skilfully out of its sullen apathy. He was brushing up
+tidily, when Mr. Knight, to whose face the colour was returning, spoke.
+
+"You are very kind," he said, adding as the Candy Man felt his pulse and
+nodded his satisfaction, "are you a physician?"
+
+"No," was the smiling answer. "Merely something of a nurse. My father
+was an invalid for some years."
+
+The sick man said "Ah!" his eyes resting, perhaps a little wistfully,
+upon the vigorous young fellow before him. "Don't let me keep you," he
+added. "I am quite relieved, and my housekeeper will return very shortly
+from church."
+
+Instead of leaving him the Candy Man sat down. "I have nothing to do
+this evening, Mr. Knight, and unless you turn me out forcibly I mean to
+stay with you till some member of your household comes in."
+
+"I fear my strength is hardly equal to turning you out," the Miser
+replied with a smile. "You are most kind." Then after a pause he added
+apologetically: "Will you kindly tell me your name? Your face is
+familiar, but my memory is at fault."
+
+"My name is Reynolds, Robert Reynolds, and I am at present conducting a
+candy wagon on the Y.M.C.A. corner. That is where you have seen me." He
+had no mind to sail under false colours again.
+
+The sick man's "Indeed!" was spoken with careful courtesy, but his
+surprise was plain enough.
+
+The Candy Man leaned forward, an arm on his crossed knee; his eyes met
+those of the older man frankly. "It is not my chosen profession," he
+said. "I happened to be free to follow any chance impulse, and the
+opportunity offered to help in this way a friend in need. It may have
+been foolish. I am alone in the world, and entirely unacquainted here.
+I should not care for the permanent job, but there's more in it than
+you would suppose. More enjoyment, I mean."
+
+"I recall now you mentioned the Little Red Chimney," said Mr. Knight.
+
+The Candy Man grew red. Why had he been so imprudent? The Miser's memory
+certainly might be worse.
+
+"And now I know why your face is so familiar," the invalid went on.
+"I sat opposite to you in the car going to the park one Sunday morning.
+My physician prescribes fresh air. And later I saw you with that
+bright-faced young girl, Miss Bentley. You were talking together in the
+pavilion near the river. You both seemed exceedingly merry. I envied
+you. I seemed to realise how old and lonely I am. I think I envied you
+her friendship."
+
+"Your impression is natural," answered the Candy Man, "but the truth is
+I do not know Miss Bentley. We met unexpectedly in the pavilion that
+morning. I did not at the time realise it, I was unpardonably dense,
+but she took me for some one else. On the occasion of the accident that
+foggy evening--you perhaps remember it--I overheard the name she gave to
+the conductor. Well, it seems she had no idea she was talking to a Candy
+Man that morning in the park, and I should have known it."
+
+The Miser leaned his head on a thin hand, and certainly there was
+nothing sordid, nothing mean, in the eyes which looked so kindly at his
+companion. It was not perhaps a strong face, nor yet quite a weak one;
+rather it indicated an over-sensitive, brooding nature. "You will not
+always be a Candy Man," he said. "I have made Miss Bentley's
+acquaintance recently. She is friendliness itself."
+
+At this moment a grey slip of a woman, with a prayer-book in her hand,
+entered, and was presented as Mrs. Sampson, the housekeeper. The Candy
+Man rose to go, but Mr. Knight seemed now in no haste to release him.
+
+"I should be glad to see you again, if some evening you have nothing
+better to do," he said. "You may perhaps be interested in some of my
+treasures." He glanced about the room. "You say you too are alone in
+the world?"
+
+"Quite," the Candy Man answered. "Everyone I know has some relative, or
+at least an hereditary friend, but owing to the peculiar circumstances
+of my life, I have none. I do not mean I am friendless, you understand.
+I have some school and college friends, good ones. It is in background
+I am particularly lacking," he concluded.
+
+"I have allowed my friends to slip away from me," confessed the Miser.
+"It was the force of circumstances in my case, too, though I brought it
+upon myself. I have been justly misunderstood."
+
+"'Justly misunderstood.'" The Candy Man repeated the words to himself as
+he walked home in the frosty night. They were strange words, but he did
+not believe them irrational.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER NINE
+
+_Shows how Miss Bentley and the Reporter take refuge in a cave, and
+how in the course of the conversation which follows, she hears something
+which disposes her to feel more kindly toward the Candy Man; shows also
+how Uncle Bob proves faithless to his trust, and his niece finds herself
+locked out in consequence._
+
+
+"Let's pretend we are pursued by wild Indians and take refuge in this
+cave."
+
+The scene was one of those afternoon crushes which everybody attends and
+few enjoy. Miss Bentley, struggling with an ice, which the state of the
+atmosphere rendered eminently desirable, and the density of the crowd
+made indulgence in precarious, addressed her next neighbour, whom she
+had catalogued as a nice, friendly boy. "It's Mr. Brown, isn't it?" she
+added in triumph at so easily associating the name with the face.
+
+The young man's beaming countenance showed his delight. "Good for you,
+Miss Bentley! It would be great. Let me have your plate while you
+squeeze in."
+
+This corner behind a mass of greens seemed to have been left with the
+intention of protecting an elaborate cabinet that occupied a shallow
+recess. However it might be, here was a refuge, difficult of access,
+but possible. Margaret Elizabeth held on to her hat and dived in.
+
+"Grand!" she cried. "This is beyond my wildest hopes," and she perched
+herself on a short step-ladder, left here no doubt by the decorators,
+and held out her hands for the plates. Mr. Brown found a more lowly seat
+beneath a bay tree. They looked at each other and laughed.
+
+"My position is a ticklish one, so to speak," he observed, vainly trying
+to dodge the palm leaves to the right of him; "but I think we are
+reasonably safe from pursuit."
+
+"I haven't the remotest idea where my aunt is," Margaret Elizabeth
+remarked, eating her ice in serene unconcern.
+
+"Say, Miss Bentley, I have heard my cousin speak of you--Augustus
+McAllister, you know."
+
+"Are you Mr. McAllister's cousin?" Miss Bentley's tone and smile left
+it to be inferred that this fact above any other was a passport to her
+favour. It must be regretfully recognised, however, that it would have
+been the same if Mr. Brown had mentioned the market-man.
+
+Having thus successfully established his claim to notice, the Reporter,
+as was his custom, went on to explain that he belonged to the moneyless
+branch of the family.
+
+Margaret Elizabeth assured him, in a grandmotherly manner, that it was
+much better for a young man to have his way to make in the world than to
+have too much money.
+
+The Reporter owned this seemed to be the consensus of opinion. How the
+strange notion had gained such vogue he could not understand, but there
+was no use kicking when you were up against it.
+
+"Of course, it must be hard work, but it must be interesting. Don't you
+have exciting experiences?" Miss Bentley asked.
+
+Oh, he had, certainly, and met such queer people, too. There was a
+fellow who ran a Candy Wagon on the Y.M.C.A. corner, for instance. "You
+ought to meet him, really, Miss Bentley, though, of course, you couldn't
+very well. He's a character, and I have puzzled my brains to discover
+what he's doing it for."
+
+Miss Bentley was interested and requested further enlightenment.
+
+"Well, I have two theories in regard to him. He is an educated man, and
+a gentleman, so far as I can tell, and I think he is either studying
+some social problem, or he is a detective on some trail."
+
+"I never thought----" began Margaret Elizabeth. "I mean," hastily
+correcting herself, "I should never have thought of such an
+explanation."
+
+"He's up to something, you may be sure," Mr. Brown continued. "I like to
+talk to him, and do, every chance I get."
+
+Margaret Elizabeth certainly showed a flattering interest in all the
+Reporter had to say. "Some day when you have become a great editor," she
+assured him at parting, "I shall refer proudly to the afternoon when we
+sat together in a cave and ate ice cream."
+
+"Oh, now, Miss Bentley," the Reporter protested in some embarrassment,
+"I'm sure I shall always think of it with pride, whatever I get to be,
+though that probably won't be much."
+
+This conversation was not without its influence upon Miss Bentley's
+subsequent attitude toward the Candy Man. That some one else had found
+him a unique and interesting personality was reassuring, and the
+thought that he might be engaged on some secret mission was novel and
+suggestive. She began to reconsider and readjust, and in future,
+although she still avoided the Y.M.C.A. corner, she allowed her thoughts
+to turn once in a while in that direction.
+
+Meanwhile she paid two more visits to the Miser's library, on these
+occasions laying deliberate siege to his reserve with all the charm of
+her bright friendliness. She asked questions about his beloved prints;
+intelligent questions, for Margaret Elizabeth had grown up in an
+atmosphere of appreciation for things rare and fine. She chatted about
+her father and his work, and even ventured some wise advice about fresh
+air and its tonic effect. Indeed, it is a cause for wonder that she was
+able at the same time to collect the material which took shape later in
+that most erudite paper.
+
+Under this invasion of youth and gaiety, the sombre, student atmosphere
+became charged with a new, electric current. It was not owing solely to
+Miss Bentley, however, for Sunday evening now frequently found the Candy
+Man dropping in sociably to chat with Mr. Knight in his library.
+
+In these days the Miser often sat leaning his head on his hand, a
+meditative, half whimsical expression on his face, as if he found both
+wonder and amusement in the chance that had so strangely brought these
+young people across his threshold.
+
+One Sunday afternoon the Pennington motor, having deposited Margaret
+Elizabeth at the Vandegrift gate, with a scornful snort went on its
+swift way to more select regions. It was the first really cold weather
+of the season, and while she waited at the door Margaret Elizabeth
+examined the thermometer, and then buried her nose in her muff.
+"Dear me!" she exclaimed impatiently. "Why doesn't somebody come?"
+
+She rang again with no uncertain touch upon the button this time, and
+then, crunching across the frozen grass, peeped in at her own window,
+where a glimpse of smouldering fire rewarded her. She returned to the
+door to ring and rap, still with no response.
+
+This was a most unusual state of affairs, for it was an inexorable
+decree of Dr. Prue's that the telephone must never be left alone.
+Somebody must have gone to sleep. The cold and the darkness deepened and
+it became more and more evident that she was locked out. What should
+she do? After canvassing the situation thoroughly, she could think of
+nothing for it but to seek refuge with the Miser. Her acquaintance in
+the neighbourhood was limited. Miss Kitty the dressmaker had gone to
+vespers, and her cottage was dark. The apartment house was too far away.
+From the Miser's library she could watch for the light which would
+betoken the waking up of the delinquent one. So across the street, her
+nose in her muff, ran Margaret Elizabeth.
+
+The little housekeeper, Mrs. Sampson, who opened the door, was all
+solicitude. Such a cold evening to be locked out! She knew Mr. Knight
+would be glad to have her wait in the library. He had stepped out for
+a little walk, though she had warned him it was too cold. Thus saying,
+Mrs. Sampson ushered her in, and followed to see if the fire was all it
+should be.
+
+It was, for the Candy Man had just given it a vigorous poking and put on
+fresh coal. The room was full of its pleasant light.
+
+Mrs. Sampson was surprised to find him there. "Miss Bentley, this is
+Mr. Reynolds, a friend of Mr. Knight's," she explained, adding that Miss
+Bentley was locked out, and wished to sit by the window and watch for
+her uncle to come back. "And if you'll excuse me, Miss Bentley, the cook
+has her Sunday evenings out, and I get supper myself," she added as she
+withdrew.
+
+Margaret Elizabeth and the Candy Man faced each other in silence for a
+second or two, then she said, very gravely indeed, "I am glad to meet
+you, Mr. Reynolds."
+
+"Thank you, Miss Bentley. May I give you a chair?" he asked.
+
+"Thank you, I will sit here by the window." The window was some distance
+from the fire, but as she sat down Margaret Elizabeth loosened her furs
+as if she felt its heat.
+
+The Candy Man waited, uncertain what course he should pursue.
+
+"Please sit down, Mr. Reynolds. I should like to talk to you, now the
+opportunity has so unexpectedly offered." She regarded him still
+seriously, her hands clasped within her large muff. "I think you owe me
+an explanation."
+
+"I am not sure I understand." The Candy Man's heart was beating in an
+absurd and disconcerting way, but he would keep his head and follow her
+lead.
+
+"Of course you are aware that you allowed me to talk to you that morning
+in the park, in a--most unsuitable manner, without even----"
+
+"How could I?" cried the Candy Man entreatingly. "I did not know."
+
+"Did not know what?" demanded Miss Bentley sternly, as he hesitated.
+
+"I thought perhaps--I was dreadfully lonely, you see, and I thought--it
+was preposterous--but I hoped you--don't you see?--didn't mind talking
+to an unknown Candy Man."
+
+"Oh! was that it?" exclaimed Margaret Elizabeth in a tone difficult to
+interpret. Did she think it preposterous, or not? It seemed to indicate
+she found something preposterous. "Then you were disappointed in me,"
+she added.
+
+Never would the Candy Man admit such a thing. He had realised since then
+what a cad he must have seemed, but----
+
+"That, however, is neither here nor there," she continued, "since I did
+not recognise you. It was----"
+
+"Preposterous?" he suggested.
+
+"Yes, preposterous, to suppose that I could. Why, it was nearly dark
+that afternoon, and I----"
+
+"Please don't rub it in. I know. You see I knew you so well."
+
+"Me?" cried Margaret Elizabeth.
+
+"I had seen you pass, I mean."
+
+Again Miss Bentley said "Oh!" adding: "You are also the person who
+laughed when I made an idiotic remark about lighthouses in the grocery."
+
+The Candy Man protested. He had not laughed.
+
+"Your eyes laughed. That is how I first discovered my mistake. Your
+resemblance to Mr. McAllister is remarkable."
+
+"So I have been told." The Candy Man shrugged his shoulders, ever so
+little.
+
+"However, to go back, I think you owe me an explanation, Mr. Reynolds,
+considering how you allowed me to talk to you under a false impression.
+I am not absolutely lacking in grey matter," she added, while a smile
+curled her lips, "and I think you owe it to me to tell me why you became
+a Candy Man."
+
+"In return for the Fairy Godmother idea?" he asked mischievously.
+
+Miss Bentley's brows drew together. "If you knew how bitterly I have
+regretted all the foolish things I said that day, you would not laugh,"
+she cried.
+
+"Do not say that, please, Miss Bentley. I beg your pardon, and I am not
+laughing. I could not. If you only knew what it all meant to me. How
+I----"
+
+His distress was so genuine that Margaret Elizabeth was touched. "Well,
+never mind now. It can't be helped, and I am willing to have it in
+return for the Fairy Godmother nonsense, if you choose to put it so."
+
+And now perforce the Candy Man must explain himself.
+
+"You see," he began, "I had been knocked out of everything through
+a bad accident that occurred at my home near Chicago--a runaway.
+Speaking of grey matter, there was some doubt for a time whether mine
+was not permanently injured. However, I gradually recovered, but I was
+still forbidden for another six months at least to do any brain work,
+and ordered by my doctor to loaf in the fresh air. Doing nothing when
+you are longing to get to work is no easy job. I left home with the
+intention of going South, and stopped off here for no particular reason.
+Perhaps I should have said that I have no family. My father died
+something over a year ago. Oddly enough, in front of the station here
+I met an Irish woman, once a servant in my father's house. She was
+overjoyed to see me, and poured out her troubles. Her son, who ran a
+candy wagon, had been taken ill with fever, and his employers would not
+promise to keep the place for him, and altogether she was in hard lines,
+this boy being the main support of a large family. So now you see how
+the idea occurred to me. To amuse myself and keep the boy's place. And
+having no family or friends to be disgraced----"
+
+"No one has intimated there was any disgrace about it," Miss Bentley
+interrupted. "At worst it can be called eccentric. It was also very,
+very kind."
+
+"Oh, now, Miss Bentley, thank you, but I can't let you overrate that.
+Any help I have given was merely by the way. You must remember I was
+in need of some occupation, and I assure you it has been very much of
+a lark."
+
+"Yes?" said Miss Bentley. "Then no doubt before long you will be writing
+'The Impressions of a Candy Man,' or 'Life as Seen from a Candy Wagon.'
+It will be new."
+
+"Thanks for the suggestion, I'll consider it. But for the chance that
+made me a Candy Man I should have missed a great deal--for one thing, a
+realisation of the opportunity that awaits the Fairy Godmother Society."
+
+"But Tim will soon be about again," said Margaret Elizabeth.
+
+"Then I must look out for another job; but your remark implies some
+further knowledge of Tim. I was not aware I had mentioned his name
+even."
+
+Miss Bentley bit her lip, then decided to smile frankly. "I met Tim
+the other day," she said. "My cousin, Dr. Vandegrift, often visits St.
+Mary's, and I sometimes go with her. Tim is a nice boy, and full of
+praises for the kind gentleman who has done so much for him."
+
+"And also, let me add, for the lovely young lady who gave him a red
+rose, and----"
+
+Margaret Elizabeth laughed. There was no getting ahead of this Candy
+Man. Had he known all along, or had he just guessed? "I see a light at
+last," she said, rising. "I must go, or they will be wondering what has
+become of me." ...
+
+"Yes, I know it was my afternoon in," said Uncle Bob plaintively, while
+Margaret Elizabeth made toast at the grate and Dr. Prue set the table.
+"I merely ran over to the drug store for a second, but Barlow was there
+and I got to talking."
+
+"It is quite unnecessary to explain, but I do wish, father, you would
+refrain from speaking as if you were required to stay in. It was your
+own proposition to let Nancy go. I could have made other arrangements."
+Dr. Prue was aggrieved. There was no telling how many telephone calls
+had been unanswered.
+
+Margaret Elizabeth laughed. "You are absolutely untrustworthy, Uncle
+Bob. Hereafter I shall carry a latch key."
+
+"By the way, who was that young man who brought you home?" the doctor
+asked.
+
+"His name is Reynolds. He is a stranger here. I have met him once or
+twice." This casual explanation was accompanied by side glances which
+indicated to Uncle Bob that there was more in it than appeared on the
+surface.
+
+Margaret Elizabeth had been extremely reserved upon the subject of the
+Candy Man. Uncle Bob had not heard a word of it till now, when, beside
+the Little Red Chimney hearth, supper having been cleared away, and Dr.
+Prue resting with a book on the office lounge, she told him the whole
+story.
+
+"You don't say so! That beats anything I ever heard. Well, I said it
+would come out all right, didn't I?" Margaret Elizabeth's narrative was
+punctured, as Mrs. Partington would have said, with many exclamations
+such as these.
+
+"I own you were right. It isn't as bad as it seemed. He is really very
+gentlemanly and nice. Still, it is a bit awkward too," she added
+thoughtfully.
+
+It is possible she was thinking of Mrs. Gerrard Pennington at the
+moment.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER TEN
+
+_In which the Little Red Chimney keeps Festival, and the Candy Man
+receives an unexpected Invitation._
+
+
+The Candy Man, letting himself in at his lodging house, one gloomy
+Sunday afternoon, stumbled upon a deputation of pigeons, in a state
+of fluttering impatience.
+
+"She said to wait, and we thought you were never, never coming!" was
+their chorus.
+
+"Never is a long day," said the Candy Man. "What will you have?"
+
+It appeared they were the bearers of a missive which read briefly and
+to the point: "Her ladyship requests the pleasure of the Candy Man's
+presence at the Pigeons' Christmas Tree, at four o'clock this
+afternoon."
+
+It had seemed to the Candy Man that he was altogether outside the
+holiday world, that for him Christmas had ended with his visit to the
+hospital that afternoon. He had ventured to send a basket of fruit to
+his fellow lodgers, the invalid professor and his wife, and had played
+Santa Claus to two or three newsboys who frequented the Y.M.C.A. corner
+and to the small Malones, and the state of his exchequer scarcely
+warranted anything more. The social calendar in the morning paper
+overflowed with festivities for the week, and he had pleased his fancy
+by picturing Miss Bentley, radiant and lovely, in the midst of them. He,
+the lonely Candy Man, without the pale, could yet enjoy her pleasure in
+imagination. And lo! this lonely Candy Man was bidden to a tree on
+Christmas Eve, by her ladyship. He could not believe his eyes.
+
+"It takes you a long time to read it," said Virginia. "You'd better
+come. It's late."
+
+Dark was beginning to fall outside, but the Little Red Chimney room was
+full of firelight when the Candy Man was ushered in, in the wake of the
+children, by cordial Uncle Bob. It was a frolicsome, magical light that
+played about a row of red stockings hanging from the shelf above it;
+that advanced to the farthest corner and then retreated; that coaxed and
+dared the unlighted Christmas tree by the piano to wake up and do its
+part; that gleamed in Miss Bentley's hair as she seated the pigeons in
+a semicircle on the rug.
+
+Was it the magic of the firelight, or the absence of the grey hat, or
+the blue frock with its deep white collar, or, or--The Candy Man got no
+further with his questions, for just then Margaret Elizabeth turned and
+gave him her hand, explaining that they were so much stiller when they
+sat on the floor. She added that it was very good of him to come--a
+purely conventional and entirely inaccurate statement. He was also
+instructed to sit on the sofa with Uncle Bob.
+
+"And now," began Miss Bentley, standing with her back to the row of red
+stockings and looking into the upturned faces, "we are going to be
+rather quiet, for this, you know, is both Christmas Eve and Sunday.
+First, we'll sing 'While Shepherds Watched,' very softly."
+
+She sat down at the piano and struck a few chords, then her voice rose,
+clear and sweet, the pigeons following her lead, a bit quaveringly at
+first, but doing wonderfully well considering they were not song birds.
+"She's been training them for weeks," Uncle Bob whispered.
+
+After this came "Stille Nacht," and Uncle Bob joined in, and then the
+Candy Man, and presently the entrance of Dr. Prue was proclaimed by a
+vigorous alto. The effect was most gratifying to the performers, and
+from the piano Margaret Elizabeth murmured, "Very good."
+
+When the singing was over she took her seat on a low ottoman in the
+midst of the children, who drew closer. "Next," she said, patting the
+hand Virginia slipped within her arm, "comes the story, which on
+Christmas Eve everybody should either hear or read for himself."
+
+Stillness fell on the Little Red Chimney room, the pigeons listened in
+breathless absorption, while, forgetting herself and her audience, her
+hands loosely clasped on her knees, Margaret Elizabeth began the story
+which, as often as it may be told, yet throbs with tenderness and
+wonder. As she went on her eyes grew dark and deep, and in her face
+shone something more than the sweetness and charm hitherto so endearing.
+Was it a prophecy? A glimpse into the unsounded heart of her?
+
+Dr. Prue shaded her eyes with her hand; Uncle Bob wiped his glasses; the
+Candy Man's soul was stirred within him, but he gave no sign.
+
+"And they brought gifts, gold, frankincense and myrrh, to the little
+Child in the manger; so now in keeping his birthday, we give each other
+gifts and are happy because of the wonderful night so long ago," ended
+Margaret Elizabeth.
+
+After that it was no longer still in the Little Red Chimney room. Uncle
+Bob set the tree alight, and her ladyship distributed the red stockings.
+Nobody was left out, not even the Candy Man, or Nancy and Jenny hovering
+in the background.
+
+Upon occasions like the Pigeons' Christmas Tree we long to linger, but
+they are evanescent. The Candy Man must see the children home after a
+few brief words with Miss Bentley.
+
+"The Fairy Godmother Society must have been organised, and my name
+entered among its beneficiaries," he told her.
+
+"I am glad if you liked it," she replied. "I thought you would.
+To-morrow I am going to Pennington Park to stay till after New Year's,
+but Christmas Eve belonged by rights to the Little Red Chimney." She
+smiled, and the Candy Man nodded understandingly.
+
+This much in the midst of the chatter that accompanied the putting on of
+small coats and leggings.
+
+"And I may hope that I am forgiven?" he had a chance to add as she gave
+him her hand at parting.
+
+Miss Bentley's eyes twinkled. "It will do no harm to hope," she told
+him.
+
+The Candy Man, his red stocking protruding from his overcoat pocket,
+conducted the noisy flock to their homes, then turning southward he
+walked on and on toward the edge of the town. As is fitting on Christmas
+Eve, a fine snow had begun to fall, sifting silently over everything,
+transforming even the ugly and pitiful with a mantle of beauty.
+
+The Candy Man, striding on through the night, felt an unreasoning joy as
+he thought of Margaret Elizabeth telling the story with the firelight on
+her face. The world seemed throbbing with expectancy. Who could tell
+what splendid event awaited its near fulfilment?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER ELEVEN
+
+_In which a radical change of atmosphere is at once noticed; which
+shows how Miss Bentley repents of a too coming-on disposition, and lends
+an ear to the advantages of wealth._
+
+
+The Christmas fire was not cold upon the hearth of the Little Red
+Chimney before Miss Bentley was whisked away to other scenes, into an
+atmosphere so different that of necessity things took on another aspect.
+
+Mrs. Gerrard Pennington found intense satisfaction in her niece's social
+success. Given every advantage, she pointed out, one could never tell
+how a girl would take, and Dick had brought up his daughter in such an
+odd way. Yet in spite of everything, even this awkward arrangement of
+living in two places, Margaret Elizabeth was popular beyond her fondest
+hopes.
+
+There were not wanting those who remarked that it would be a marvel if
+she were not spoiled. Probably they were right, and Margaret Elizabeth,
+at the flood tide of her social career, courted, fęted, the kingdoms of
+this world at her feet, was in danger.
+
+"And who sent this?" Mrs. Pennington demanded.
+
+It was Christmas Day, and "this" was an Indian basket of holly and
+mistletoe, conspicuous, among many costly floral offerings, by its
+simplicity. The card which accompanied it read, "To her Ladyship, from
+the Candy Man," but this Mrs. Pennington had not seen.
+
+"Oh," answered her niece, "I don't know how to tell you who he is. He is
+a stranger here--a Mr. Reynolds. I met him at Mr. Knight's, where you
+remember I went to get some material for my paper for the Tuesday Club."
+
+This was all true, and, unaccompanied by a heightened colour, might
+have allayed her aunt's lurking suspicions, born of that unexplained
+interview in the park with some one who was not Augustus.
+
+Only once had Mrs. Pennington referred to this, asking half jokingly if
+Margaret Elizabeth had ever discovered the identity of that person;
+putting a somewhat disdainful emphasis upon "person."
+
+"Never," Margaret Elizabeth could at that time assure her, and she
+added, "I do not expect to, and certainly do not wish to."
+
+Mrs. Pennington, however, had her intuitions in regard to this unknown
+individual. She anticipated his reappearance, and, like a wise general,
+in time of peace prepared for war. Keeping her vague fears to herself,
+she increased her vigilance.
+
+Annoyed because of that uncalled-for blush, far away from the Little Red
+Chimney, with fairy-tales forgot, Margaret Elizabeth repeated her aunt's
+question. After all, who was Mr. Reynolds? That which had so lately
+seemed an adventure compounded of kindliness and fun, she now beheld
+only as an awkward situation. She began to feel that she had overstepped
+the bounds in asking him to the Christmas tree; and the red stocking!
+What nonsense! Why should she have felt concerned over his loneliness?
+Were there not many lonely people in the world? Might he not infer from
+it all a rather excessive interest in him and his affairs? Her interview
+with Tim at the hospital, for instance, though it had come about by the
+purest chance, looked on the surface as if she had been bent upon
+investigating him.
+
+The Candy Man's offering, which she at first found so happily
+significant and appropriate, now began to seem almost a piece of
+presumption. It lay ignored if not forgotten, till its brown and
+withered contents were tossed into the fire by one of the maids. Did
+Miss Bentley wish her to save the basket?
+
+No, Miss Bentley cared nothing for it. Or, wait--she liked sweet grass,
+and on second thought she would keep it.
+
+Never had the holiday season been so gay. There was not time for a
+minute's connected thought. Margaret Elizabeth honestly tried to keep
+her promise to stop and reflect for at least ten minutes a day, but
+either she went to sleep, or fell into a waking dream that bore small
+relation to the sober realities upon which she was supposed to dwell.
+
+There were guests at Pennington Park for the holidays--English friends
+of her uncle and aunt, persons of a broader culture than Margaret
+Elizabeth had ever before encountered. They afforded her an object
+lesson of the best that accrues from wealth and tradition, and is only
+to be attained by means of them. Within herself she was aware of an
+aptitude of her own for these things.
+
+But half divining her niece's mood, Mrs. Gerrard Pennington skilfully
+and subtly fostered it, and Augustus McAllister, with unexpected tact,
+followed her lead.
+
+Augustus was genuinely in love, and it brought out the best that was
+in him. For the first time in his life something resembling humility
+manifested itself, a humility which sat gracefully upon the possessor
+of variously estimated millions. It seemed to say: "Here is one who,
+although not brilliant, may be led into any desirable path." And with
+his other substantial attractions he combined his full share of good
+looks.
+
+To be unresponsive was not in Miss Bentley's make-up, and the attentions
+of Augustus assumed in these days a delicate and pleasing character.
+What girl could be indifferent to the prestige born of the generally
+accepted opinion that the position of mistress of the Towers was hers
+for the word?
+
+In truth, all this homage--and Augustus was far from being alone in
+it--was to Margaret Elizabeth an exciting game, that need not be taken
+too seriously. It was only when she thought of the Candy Man that she
+became serious and annoyed. How impossible, in the atmosphere of
+Pennington Park, appeared any explanation or justification of so absurd
+a position as his!
+
+[Illustration: COUSIN AUGUSTUS]
+
+When, after a morning recital by the Musical Club, Miss Bentley was seen
+walking down the avenue with Augustus McAllister, society seized upon it
+as confirming an interesting rumour. It was absurd, of course. Margaret
+Elizabeth did it quite innocently. She really felt the need of exercise
+in the open air, and could not very easily dismiss Mr. McAllister, who
+had accompanied her aunt and herself to the concert, and who also felt
+the need of air.
+
+Did she think of the Candy Man when they passed the Y.M.C.A. corner?
+Yes, she did. Though she gave not so much as half a glance in the
+direction of the Candy Wagon, she hoped he was not too busy to observe.
+It might counteract possible false impressions in the past.
+
+A few days later there appeared in a column of the _Evening Record_,
+given up to such matters, an item regarding the soon-to-be-announced
+engagement of a certain charming and beautiful girl, only recently a
+resident of the city, and a young man of wealth and social position.
+
+It brought Miss Bentley up short. She disliked newspaper gossip
+extremely, and an allusion so faintly veiled that everyone must
+understand, was under the circumstances most embarrassing, for the truth
+was she had not been asked. Her cheeks burned. Yet it was thanks only to
+some clever fencing on her part, and perhaps some words of caution to
+Augustus from his mentor, that she had not been, and she knew in her
+heart it must come soon.
+
+Just when you were having a good time and did not wish to be bothered,
+it was tiresome to have to decide momentous questions, she told herself
+almost fretfully, as she was borne swiftly and smoothly downtown one
+afternoon. There was the usual detention at the Y.M.C.A. corner, and
+Margaret Elizabeth looked out and almost into the Candy Wagon before she
+knew it. But there was no cause for alarm. Beneath the white cap of the
+Candy Man shone the round Irish countenance of Tim Malone.
+
+Was it Tim after all who had viewed her triumphal walk down the avenue?
+The question brought not a hint of a smile to Miss Bentley's lips; and
+this was a very grave symptom.
+
+If Uncle Bob had been within reach! But he wasn't. He had run down to
+Florida to look after his orange grove, and Dr. Prue was up to her eyes
+in grip cases. There was every reason why Margaret Elizabeth should stay
+on at Pennington Park.
+
+So the Little Red Chimney had no chance to get in its work. In vain
+Virginia looked from the dining-room window for its curling smoke. In
+vain did the invalid sister of Miss Kitty, the dressmaker, dream of the
+beautiful young lady who brought her roses. In vain did the postman and
+the market-man inquire of Nancy when Miss Bentley was coming back. To
+the Miser alone, who from his study window had also noted the deadness
+of the Little Red Chimney, was the privilege of a word with the
+enchantress accorded. It came about through Mrs. Gerrard Pennington's
+interest in the furnishing of the new quarters of the Colonial Dames.
+
+Hearing of a desirable print owned by Mr. Knight, which it was
+understood he might be induced to part with, she drove thither to
+canvass the matter, accompanied by her niece. On the way they picked
+up Augustus, who knew nothing of prints, but was pleased to join the
+expedition.
+
+The Miser, beneath his grave courtesy, seemed taken aback by this
+invasion of his solitude. Mrs. Pennington's conventional suavity plainly
+embarrassed him. He smiled indeed at Margaret Elizabeth, remarking as he
+spread out his engravings that it had been long since he last saw her.
+
+The impulse was strong upon her to follow him to his desk and ask if he
+had any news of the Candy Man. There were moments when she thought it
+strange she had had no word. These were but fleeting moments, however;
+for the most part she succeeded, or thought she succeeded, in dismissing
+him to the limbo of the past. So now she resisted the impulse to ask
+news of him.
+
+When it came to negotiations Margaret Elizabeth and Augustus, leaving
+Mrs. Pennington to conduct them, moved about the room, viewing the
+Miser's curios.
+
+"Do you care for mezzotints?" she asked him.
+
+"I don't know the first thing about them," Augustus owned. "In fact
+never saw one."
+
+She laughed. "Oh, yes, you have. Ever so many of the Reynolds and Romney
+portraits were reproduced in mezzotint. If I am not mistaken there is
+one hanging in your own hall."
+
+Augustus gazed at her in undisguised admiration. "I don't see how you
+learn so much, Miss Bentley. I have no doubt I have a lot of things you
+could help me to appreciate."
+
+From this dangerous ground she moved hastily, calling attention to the
+portrait above the mantel. Mr. McAllister was more at home here.
+
+"A rattling good picture. General Waite, by the way," he informed her,
+"was own cousin to my grandmother on my mother's side. My great
+grandfather and his father were brothers, don't you know."
+
+"Indeed!" said Margaret Elizabeth, politely. The relationship did
+not interest her, but she wondered, in annoyance, why the cousin of
+Augustus, on his mother's side, should look down on her with the eyes of
+the Candy Man. Stern eyes they were, with a sparkle of humour behind the
+sternness.
+
+On the way home Mrs. Pennington was stirred to reminiscence. "One of
+the first parties I ever attended was in that old house," she said.
+"It must have been thirty-five years ago. I was a very young girl--barely
+seventeen. General Waite was a most courtly man, and his wife was quite
+famous for her beauty. It was there I met Mr. Pennington. He and the
+general's nephew, Robert Waite, were great friends. They went to college
+together. He disappeared strangely. I remember Gerrard was dread fully
+upset about it at the time. It was just before our marriage."
+
+To all this Margaret Elizabeth only half listened. The eyes of the
+general lingered reproachfully with her, and perhaps were at the bottom
+of that policy of postponement with which Augustus was met when the
+inevitable moment came.
+
+Just a little time was all she asked. Mr. McAllister was talking of a
+trip to Panama; let him go, and on his return he should have his answer.
+
+Miss Bentley was very sweet as she spoke thus; eminently worth waiting
+for. So Augustus went to Panama, and she was left to argue matters with
+herself.
+
+During the process she grew pale. Mixed up with her arguments was that
+foolish idea that she ought to have heard something from the Candy Man.
+Had he seen that item in the _Evening Record_?
+
+Mrs. Pennington noticed the pallor, but treated it lightly. Margaret
+Elizabeth was tired out, but now Lent was here she would rest. She was
+worn to death herself, but she would recuperate, and surely her niece,
+who was years younger, could do the same. She failed to take into
+consideration the complications lacking in her own case. In fact, having
+brought matters to the present status, Mrs. Pennington allowed herself
+to relax.
+
+Mr. Gerrard Pennington looked at Margaret Elizabeth from beneath his
+bushy brows. Confound them, what were they doing to her? She had a way
+of joining him in the library, and sitting with a book in her lap, which
+she seldom read.
+
+One day, laying down his paper, and after a cautious glance over his
+shoulder, he remarked: "Did it ever occur to you, Margaret Elizabeth,
+that you don't have to marry anybody?"
+
+She stared at him with surprised eyes, in which a smile slowly dawned.
+"Why, Uncle Gerry, what do you mean? Of course I don't have to."
+
+"There is a great deal in suggestion," continued Mr. Pennington. "Keep
+telling people a certain thing, confront them with it on all occasions,
+and they will be influenced in spite of themselves; and it has occurred
+to me----"
+
+"Yes?" said Margaret Elizabeth.
+
+"Well, that it applies in your case." Mr. Pennington cleared his throat.
+"A certain person whom we know has behaved very well of late; better
+than I thought was in him, but--unless you are pretty sure you can't
+live without him--Now this is rank treason on my part, but don't be too
+soft-hearted, Margaret Elizabeth."
+
+Mr. Pennington returned to his stock-market reports, and silence
+reigned, but presently two hands rested on his shoulders, and a velvet
+cheek touched his for a moment. "Thank you, Uncle Gerry," said Margaret
+Elizabeth.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER TWELVE
+
+_Which shows Miss Bentley recovering from a fit of what Uncle Bob
+calls Cantankerousness; in which a shipwrecked letter is brought to
+light, and Dr. Prue is called again to visit the child of the Park
+Superintendent._
+
+
+"And he turned into a splendid prince (he had been one all the time
+really, you know), and he laid all his riches at Violetta's feet, and
+made her a princess, because she had been true to him through thick and
+thin."
+
+Virginia's voice rose in triumphant climax.
+
+"That's all very fine in a fairy-tale, Virginia, and it is an extremely
+good one for a little girl like you to make up out of her own head. But
+you know in real life it is different." Margaret Elizabeth gazed
+pensively into the fire.
+
+Virginia, prone upon the hearth-rug, was disposed to argue what she did
+not understand. "How different?"
+
+"Well, in a fairy-tale you can have things as you want them, but in
+real life you get tangled up in what other people want, and with duty
+and common sense; and when you determine to follow your--" Margaret
+Elizabeth was going to say "heart," but changed to "intuitions," "you
+are left high and dry on a desert island."
+
+Virginia was to be excused if she failed to make head or tail of this.
+"I wish the Candy Man would come back," she remarked irrelevantly. "He
+was much nicer than Tim. He liked fairy-tales. He said he was coming
+some time."
+
+"Oh, did he?" said Miss Bentley.
+
+The reference to a desert island, and a disposition to quarrel with
+fairy-tales, go to show that while she was decidedly more like herself
+than in the last chapter, her recovery was not yet complete. In fact
+Margaret Elizabeth was suffering from the irritability that so often
+accompanies convalescence. Cantankerousness was Uncle Bob's word for it,
+and he defended it with all the eloquence of which he was master, his
+finger on the page in the dictionary where it was to be found in good
+and regular standing.
+
+It really did not matter what you called it; the point was, that in an
+argument with her aunt, Margaret Elizabeth had gone further than she
+intended; had said what had better have been left unsaid. This she
+confessed to Dr. Prue.
+
+"Let me see your tongue," commanded that professional lady, regarding
+her searchingly.
+
+Margaret Elizabeth displayed the unruly member, laughing as she did so.
+
+"What did you say to Mrs. Pennington?"
+
+"We were speaking," Margaret Elizabeth answered meekly, "of gratitude,
+and Aunt Eleanor said, as you are always hearing people say, that there
+is little or none of it in the world. You see, in some matter which came
+up in the Colonial Dames, Nancy Lane sided against her. 'And after all
+I've done for her!' cried Aunt Eleanor. I said I thought gratitude was
+an overrated virtue anyway, and that to expect a person to vote your way
+because you had been good to her, was a kind of graft."
+
+"Humph!" said Dr. Prue.
+
+"I know it was a dreadful, dreadful thing to say." Tears were in
+Margaret Elizabeth's eyes. "When she has been loveliness itself to me.
+There it is, you see. I have thought about it, and thought about it,
+until I'm all mixed up."
+
+"What did your aunt say?"
+
+"She was very dignified. She had not expected to hear such a thing from
+me. Then she walked away."
+
+"I hope you asked her pardon."
+
+"I had no chance. She has gone to Chicago--was on her way to the station
+then. I will, of course."
+
+"For a young thing your ideas are not bad, though your problem is
+entangled in foolish convention, personal pride and so on. But neither
+you nor I was born to set the world right. Now cheer up and think no
+more about it for the present. Be ready at two o'clock to go to the park
+with me. The superintendent's child is ill again."
+
+Having delivered her prescription, Dr. Prue left, and her patient
+returned to her hearth-stone and an endeavour to be honest with
+herself. Virginia had interrupted this most difficult process with her
+fairy-tale. While it could not be said to bear upon the situation, after
+she had left Margaret Elizabeth was conscious of a faint lightening of
+the fog.
+
+As they sped smoothly toward the park, in the new electric, Margaret
+Elizabeth driving, Dr. Prue exclaimed, "There, I'm forgetting that
+letter again." Unfastening her bag she held it open while she continued,
+"I hope you'll forgive whoever is to blame, but when the hall was being
+cleaned yesterday, James fished this out of the umbrella jar. Dear knows
+how it got there or when; it looks as if it had been in a shipwreck."
+She produced a stained and sorry-looking missive from her bag. "You can
+just make out the address, the postmark is quite gone," she added,
+laying it in her companion's lap. "You haven't missed an important
+letter, have you?"
+
+"Not that I know of," Margaret Elizabeth replied with a laugh that was
+a bit unsteady. "It is probably nothing of value." She kept her gaze on
+the road ahead. "Just slip it in my pocket, please."
+
+All the rest of the way to the park her heart thumped uncomfortably.
+Could it be? Of course not, it was an advertisement. Why get excited?
+Meanwhile she chatted pleasantly with Dr. Prue.
+
+"All you need is fresh air and a simple life for a while. Your colour
+has come back wonderfully," the doctor remarked as they drew up at the
+cottage gate. "Will you wait for me here?"
+
+"If you don't mind, I think I'll go into the park, and if I'm not back
+by the time you are ready, don't wait. I can take the street car."
+
+Turning in at the entrance to the park, Margaret Elizabeth was for a
+fleeting moment aware of a Candy Wagon standing at the curb a few yards
+away. There was nothing unusual in this except the odd way in which it
+fitted into the situation, and the next moment she had forgotten
+everything but the letter in her hand.
+
+She walked slowly down the path. The April sunshine sifted through a
+faint and feathery greenness overhead, the air was clear and fresh. She
+was thinking that she had seen just one little scrap of the Candy Man's
+writing--on the card accompanying the Christmas basket; and this on the
+letter was blurred and stained, yet she was sure of it. He had written.
+She had been sure he would. She was glad. She would be honest with
+herself. She wanted him for a friend. In many ways she liked him better
+than any one she had met this winter. She wanted to know more about him.
+
+She tried to tear the letter open, but for all it was so damaged the
+paper had remained tough. She would wait to read it till she reached the
+summer house. That little vine-hung arbour had been in her thought ever
+since Dr. Prue proposed to bring her down to the park. She had a foolish
+desire to sit there and look at the river, and go on being honest with
+herself.
+
+Margaret Elizabeth, mounting the steps and looking at her letter as she
+did so, was confronted by somebody who started up in surprise from the
+bench where she had sat with her flowers that autumn day.
+
+For one surprised moment she and the stranger faced each other, then
+Miss Bentley exclaimed, "I saw the wagon at the gate, but I didn't know
+it was yours." And then the mischief faded into simple honest gladness
+as she held out her hand. "I certainly did not expect to see you," she
+added, "but you are an unexpected sort of person."
+
+"Nothing so wonderful as the chance of meeting you occurred to me for a
+moment," the Candy Man assured her. "In fact I was not certain you cared
+to see me." Those same pleasant eyes, so emphatically not the eyes of
+Augustus, looked into hers questioningly.
+
+Margaret Elizabeth held up the letter. "It was shipwrecked," she said.
+"I got it only a few minutes ago. I haven't read it. I thought it was
+you who didn't care to be friends."
+
+The Candy Man did not exactly understand how a letter could be
+shipwrecked in an overland journey of ten hours, but he dismissed it as
+of no importance. "It isn't worth reading now," he said. "It was just
+to make my adieus and ask if some time when I had lived down my past,"
+here he smiled, "I might come back and tell you my strange story. I was
+counting on your willingness to be friends. You remember you said it
+would do no harm to hope."
+
+"Oh, did I? And when you did not hear from me, what did you think?
+Honestly," asked Margaret Elizabeth.
+
+"I thought of course there must be a reason. A shipwreck did not occur
+to me."
+
+"Do you mean a reason for not being friends? But you came."
+
+"The suspense was too much for me. I haven't many friends; and besides,
+this is on the way to Texas."
+
+"So you are going to Texas this time?"
+
+It seemed the Candy Man had heard of an opening there.
+
+Margaret Elizabeth wanted to ask why he had come to the park, but
+something told her not to; instead she said, looking away to the shining
+river, "I know of no reason why we should not be friends. So I am ready
+to hear the story you speak of. Is it more strange than the adventures
+of a Candy Wagon?" Her eyes came back and met his as they had done the
+day when the conversation turned upon fairy godmothers. Margaret
+Elizabeth was not spoiled.
+
+"It is more serious," was his reply. "In fact, it is very serious.
+The Candy Wagon was a mere episode. What I wish to tell you now goes
+deeper."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER THIRTEEN
+
+_In which the Candy Man relates his story, and the Miser comes upon
+Volume I of the shabby book with the funny name._
+
+
+"I want you to know all about me," began the Candy Man, taking from his
+pocket the shabby little book Virginia had once remarked on, "so there
+may be no more wrong impressions."
+
+They sat in the sunshine on the top step of the little pavilion, facing
+the river. Margaret Elizabeth, supporting her chin in her hand, regarded
+him gravely. The west wind was cool on their faces.
+
+"I have often imagined myself telling you," he went on. "Not that there
+is much to it, besides its strangeness. In fact, to be brief, I don't
+know who I am."
+
+The surprise in Miss Bentley's eyes caused him to add quickly: "Not that
+I am a foundling. But my father and mother were lost at sea when I was
+three years old. We were coming from Victoria to San Francisco, when the
+steamer went down. Only a few of the passengers were saved, I among
+them."
+
+"How sad and terrible!" cried Margaret Elizabeth. "Can you remember it?
+How lost and lonely you must have been! Poor little child!"
+
+"I recall it only in a vague way," he answered, "confused with what has
+since been told me. When it was known that my parents were lost, a man
+and his wife, fellow passengers, offered to adopt me. Beyond the name
+'Robert Deane, Wife and Child,' on the list at the ship's office, they
+were unable to learn anything about me, and I was too young and
+bewildered to give any clue."
+
+"That is very strange," said Margaret Elizabeth. "Your new father and
+mother were kind to you?"
+
+"So kind I soon forgot the terror and loneliness, and grew happy and
+content. Everything was done to make me forget, and I think while they
+made every effort to find out something about me, they were glad when
+they failed. I wish now that my childish memories might have been
+fostered, for I find myself reaching back into a mist full of vague
+shapes.
+
+"My new father was a civil engineer, whose work took him here, there and
+everywhere throughout the broad West. I never knew a permanent home. My
+adopted mother died when I was twelve. After that came boarding school
+and college. About the time I left college my father's health failed,
+and for several years he was helpless and very dependent upon me, so
+I gave up my plan of entering a mining school.
+
+"It was during his illness that he began to speak to me of my own
+parents. He had talked to them on several occasions during the voyage,
+and he described them as young people of refinement and education. My
+mother, he thought from her speech, was English. They rather held aloof,
+he said, and seemed disinclined to mention their own affairs. While he
+was ill the news came to us of the finding in a storage warehouse in San
+Francisco of an old trunk which it seemed probable had belonged to my
+parents. Without going into detail, I may say it was through an old
+acquaintance of my adopted father's, who knew the circumstances of my
+adoption, that we heard of it. He had some interest in the warehouse,
+which was about to be torn down and rebuilt. This trunk was found in
+some forgotten corner where it had lain for twenty-five years."
+
+"And did it throw any light?" asked Margaret Elizabeth.
+
+"Not much, it rather deepened the mystery. There was little of
+significance in it, but this book and a package of letters. From them I
+learned nothing definite, but gathered the unwelcome probability that my
+father was under some sort of cloud, and was not using his real name.
+This was a matter of inference--of deduction, largely, but it was plain
+he had left his home in some sort of trouble.
+
+"It is not easy to piece together scattered allusions, when you have no
+clue. The letters were most of them written by my father to my mother,
+just before and soon after their marriage, with one or two from her to
+him. One of these, which I found between the leaves of this little book,
+I want you to read. It concludes my story, and to my mind lightens it a
+little."
+
+The letter the Candy Man held out to Margaret Elizabeth was written on
+thin paper, in a delicate angular hand.
+
+"Ought I to read it?" she demurred. "Are you sure she would like it?"
+
+"Somehow I am very sure," he answered. "And I feel that it will be a
+grip on our friendship. I have told you the worst, I wish you to know
+the best of me."
+
+She acquiesced, and, an elbow on her knee, shading her eyes with her
+hand, she read the letter, whose date was thirty years ago. Far back
+in the past this seemed to Margaret Elizabeth, yet it was a girl like
+herself who wrote.
+
+The first sentences were almost meaningless, so strong was the feeling
+that she had no right to be reading it at all, but as she went on she
+forgot her scruples. It was evidently a reply to a letter from her lover
+in which he had spoken of the cloud that hung over his name, and it was
+a confession of her faith in him, girlish, sweet and tender. "I trust
+you, Robert," it said. "It is in you to do heedless things, to be
+reckless, if only because you are young and eager and strong; but it
+is not in you to be dishonourable; of this I am as certain as I am of
+anything in life. Some day the truth will be known and you will be
+cleared, but whether it is or no, I choose to walk beside you. I choose
+it gladly, happily. I write the words again, gladly, happily, Robert.
+Yours, Mary."
+
+"Oh!" cried Margaret Elizabeth, lifting a glowing face, "I love Mary."
+
+"She was brave and unselfish," said the Candy Man.
+
+Margaret Elizabeth nodded. "Yes, that is one side of it. Still, you see,
+she was sure, and it was, as she says, a joy to cast in her lot with
+him. 'Gladly, happily.'" Her eyes shone. She gazed far away down the
+river. The wind blew little tendrils of bright hair across her cheek.
+"It must be so when you care very much," she went on.
+
+"But," argued the Candy Man, "under the stress of very noble feeling
+people sometimes do foolish things, do they not?"
+
+"But this was not. Do you think for a moment Mary ever regretted it?
+I see what you mean by the best of you. It is something to have such
+credentials." Margaret Elizabeth's gaze met the Candy Man's, and her
+eyes were deep as they had been on Christmas Eve, in the firelight.
+
+Oh, Margaret Elizabeth, it is your own fault, for being so dear, so
+unworldly! Could you, can you, cast in your lot with an unknown Candy
+Man? He has no business to ask you. He did not mean to, but only to
+prepare the way. He knows he is no great catch, even from the point of
+view of a Little Red Chimney. These are not the precise words of the
+Candy Man, but something like them....
+
+So absorbed was Margaret Elizabeth in the thought of Mary, she was a bit
+slow in taking in their meaning. She gave him one startled glance, and
+then looked down, as it happened, upon the shabby little book which lay
+on the step between them. Absently she drew it toward her, and with
+fingers that trembled, opened it, as if to find her answer in its pages.
+Then a smile began faintly to curl about her lips, and she read aloud
+from the book:
+
+    _"What we find then to accord with love and reason, that we may
+    safely pronounce right and good."_
+
+
+"Judged at the bar of reason I fear my case is hopeless," protested the
+Candy Man, putting out his hand to close the book.
+
+But Margaret Elizabeth clasped it to her breast. "I see nothing
+unreasonable in it," she declared stoutly. As she spoke a faded crimson
+flower fell in her lap.
+
+Somewhat later in the afternoon, Miss Bentley and the Candy Man,
+walking together along the river path, had they not been so engrossed
+in their own affairs, might have recognised the tall, stooping figure
+of the Miser strolling slowly ahead of them. It was for a minute only,
+for near a turn in the path he bent forward and disappeared in a thicket
+of althea bushes. At this season it was not a dense thicket, and Mr.
+Knight, poking in the soft mould with his cane in search of a certain
+tiny plant, had no thought of hiding, but, as it chanced, was unobserved
+by his friends.
+
+"Oh, Margaret Elizabeth," her companion was saying as they passed, "you
+are so dear! I have no business to be telling you so, but indeed I can't
+help it."
+
+And she with a little laugh replied: "I am glad you can't, Candy Man."
+And the next moment they were gone around the turn.
+
+That was all, but it was enough. What rarer flower was likely to come
+the Miser's way, on this or any day?
+
+He stood and looked after them. These two had brought into his grey
+life the touch of golden youth. He began to tremble under the force
+of a wonderful thought. He sought a bench and sank upon it. It would
+be a solution of his problem. He had come out to-day into the spring
+sunshine, feeling his burden more than he could bear, for in his pocket
+was a letter which put an end to the hope he had long cherished of at
+length righting a great wrong.
+
+There must be a way of doing what he wished. The consent of the Candy
+Man once gained, that hateful fortune, which through these years had
+been slowly crushing him, might become a minister of joy and well being,
+might make possible for others those best things of life that he had
+missed.
+
+The thought thrilled him. He rose and walked on, back to the pavilion,
+where he paused again to rest. There on the step lay the shabby book
+with the funny name and the small oval bit cut from the fly leaf,
+beneath which was the Candy Man's name, Robert Deane Reynolds.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER FOURTEEN
+
+_Shows how Mrs. Gerrard Pennington, unhappy and distraught, beseeches
+Uncle Bob to help her save Margaret Elisabeth; also how Mr. Gerrard
+Pennington comes to the rescue, and how in the end his wife submits
+gracefully to the inevitable, which is not so bad after all._
+
+
+When Mrs. Gerrard Pennington was shown into the room of the Little Red
+Chimney, there was nobody there. A chilly wind outside, which dashed
+the rain against the windows, only served to call attention to the
+pleasantness within. It was indeed an aggressively cheerful room,
+entirely out of keeping with Mrs. Pennington's mood. The open piano,
+the row of thrifty ferns on the window-sill, the new novel on the table
+with a foreign letter between its leaves, and the work basket beside
+it--which, by the way, was of sweet grass--all sang the same song to
+the accompaniment of the fire's quiet crackle.
+
+The burden of the song was Margaret Elizabeth. You saw her sitting bolt
+upright on the sofa, being very intense about something, or lost in
+thought, elbows on knees, on the ottoman beside the hearth, or occupied
+with that bit of embroidery, her curling lashes almost on her cheek. Oh,
+Margaret Elizabeth, how could you? How could you?
+
+Mrs. Pennington, pacing uneasily back and forth, glanced at the music on
+the piano rack.
+
+  "Oh, stay at home, my heart, and rest,
+  Home-keeping hearts are happiest,"
+
+it admonished her. In this disarming atmosphere she began to feel
+herself the victim of some wretched dream. Yet here in her bag was
+Margaret Elizabeth's note, found awaiting her on her return from Chicago
+an hour ago.
+
+In it her niece apologised contritely for the inexcusable manner in
+which she had spoken, and continued: "It makes me unhappy, dearest
+Aunt Eleanor, to think of disappointing you, for you have been the
+kindest aunt in the world, but I have discovered in the last few
+days what I ought to have known all along, that I cannot marry Mr.
+McAllister. The reason is there is some one else. He is neither rich
+nor of distinguished family, but there are things that count for more,
+at least to me. I shall see you very soon, and explain more fully.
+In the meantime think kindly, if you can, of your niece,
+
+MARGARET ELIZABETH."
+
+[Illustration: MRS. GERRARD PENNINGTON]
+
+This as it stood was bad enough, wrecking her dearest hopes at the
+moment when they had seemed most secure; but taken in connection with
+a story related in artless innocence by her travelling companion of
+yesterday, Teddy Brown, to use one of that gentleman's cherished
+phrases, it spelled tragedy.
+
+The Reporter had not been bent on mischief. Far from it. He was merely
+grappling bravely with the task of being agreeable to the great lady.
+Surely it was but natural that in the course of a long conversation the
+Candy Man's curious resemblance to Augustus should suggest itself as a
+topic; and given a gleam of something like interest in his companion's
+eyes, it was easy to continue from bad to worse.
+
+He lived in the same apartment house as Virginia, and from her he
+had heard of the Christmas tree, and the Candy Man's presence on the
+occasion; also of that old accident on the corner in which the Candy
+Man had figured as Miss Bentley's rescuer. No wonder those intuitions
+regarding a person who was not Augustus should have risen to torture
+Mrs. Pennington. All this circumstantial evidence was very black against
+Margaret Elizabeth, seemingly so honest and frank. No wonder Mrs.
+Pennington was distraught.
+
+Meanwhile, wherever her heart might be, Margaret Elizabeth herself
+was out. Uncle Bob, coming in, paper in hand, to greet the visitor
+cordially, could not imagine where she had gone, and peered around the
+room as if after all she might have escaped their notice. If she wasn't
+in, he was confident she would be, in the course of a few minutes, which
+confidence was not a logical deduction from known facts, but merely an
+untrustworthy inference, born of his surprise at finding her out at all.
+
+Placing a chair for Mrs. Pennington, he took one himself and regarded
+her genially. Some minutes of polite conversation followed, in the
+course of which Mrs. Pennington, concealing her agitation, spoke of her
+journey to Chicago in quest of colonial furnishings. Mr. Vandegrift in
+his turn brought forward Florida and orange groves.
+
+But Margaret Elizabeth delayed her coming, and Mrs. Pennington could
+stand it no longer. "Mr. Vandegrift," she began, after the silence that
+followed the last word on oranges, "I regret that my niece is not here,
+yet it may be as well to speak to you first. I may say, to make an
+appeal to you. You are, I am sure, fond of Margaret Elizabeth." She
+played nervously with the fastening of her shopping bag.
+
+Uncle Bob looked at her in surprise, then at the toe of his shoe. "I
+think I may safely admit it," he owned, crossing his knees and nodding
+his head.
+
+"Then, Mr. Vandegrift, I beseech you, with all the feeling of which I am
+capable, to unite with me in saving this misguided girl." At this point
+all her intuitions and fears rallied around Mrs. Pennington, and gave a
+quiver to her voice.
+
+Uncle Bob was astonished at her tone, and said so.
+
+"I assure you, Mr. Vandegrift, I have her own word for it." She produced
+a note from her bag.
+
+"Her word for what?" he asked.
+
+"Why, for--oh, Mr. Vandegrift, let us not waste time in futile fencing.
+You must know that Margaret Elizabeth has deceived me; has been guilty
+of base ingratitude; has been meeting clandestinely a person--a mere
+adventurer. I can scarcely bring myself to say it. My brother Richard's
+daughter!" Mrs. Pennington had recourse to her handkerchief.
+
+Uncle Bob uncrossed his knees and sat bolt upright. "Madame," he
+exclaimed, "I am sorry for your distress, whatever its cause, but let me
+assure you, you are under some grave mistake. My niece has met no one
+clandestinely, and is incapable of deceit and treachery."
+
+"Do I understand then that it was with your connivance?"
+
+"I have connived at nothing, Madame, and I know of no adventurer." Uncle
+Bob took his penknife from his pocket and tapped on the table with it.
+His manner was legal in the extreme. He was enjoying himself.
+
+Mrs. Pennington looked over her handkerchief. "But she says,
+herself----"
+
+"Says she has been guilty of deceit and treachery? Has been meeting an
+adventurer clandestinely? Pardon me, but this is incredible."
+
+"What is incredible, Uncle Bob?" came a voice from the half-open door,
+unmistakably that of the accused. "I'll be there as soon as I get off my
+raincoat," it added.
+
+"It is hopeless to try to make you understand," Mrs. Pennington almost
+sobbed, the while sounds from the hall indicated that some one beside
+Margaret Elizabeth was removing a raincoat. A horrible dread suddenly
+smote her, lest it be that person. A sleepless night and her distress
+had unnerved her. She felt herself unequal to the encounter.
+
+She glanced about helplessly for a way of escape, but there was none.
+"Tell him not to come in. I cannot see him now," she begged tragically
+of Uncle Bob, who, honestly mystified now, stood between her and the
+door, looking from it to her.
+
+"She says not to come in," he repeated to Margaret Elizabeth's
+companion, who was following her in.
+
+"Why, Aunt Eleanor, I didn't know it was you! They told me your train
+was late. And oh, what is the matter? What are you crying about? Is it
+I?" Margaret Elizabeth, with raindrops on her hair, knelt beside her
+aunt and embraced her, pressing a cool cheek against that lady's
+fevered one.
+
+Mrs. Pennington, her face hidden in her hands, continued to murmur, "I
+cannot see him. I cannot see him."
+
+"In the name of heaven, Eleanor, why can't you see me? Why must I not
+come in?" demanded a familiar voice which brought her to with a shock.
+
+"Gerrard!" she cried, in her surprise revealing a sadly tear-stained
+countenance.
+
+Uncle Bob beat a retreat into the hall, where he paused, chuckling to
+himself.
+
+"Certainly it is I. Who should it be?" said her husband, taking a seat
+beside her. "Why are you making such a sight of yourself, my dear? When
+I telephoned out to know if you had arrived, they said you had and had
+gone out again immediately, no one knew where. I came out to talk over
+some business with William Knight, and when I was leaving I saw your car
+over here, and thought I'd join you; but if my presence is unbearable,
+I will withdraw." Mr. Pennington smiled at Margaret Elizabeth.
+
+"Don't be silly, please, I have had a most trying day. I don't expect
+you to understand."
+
+Mrs. Pennington was recovering her poise. There was something
+irresistibly steadying in her husband's matter-of-fact statement, and in
+the sight of her niece sitting back on her heels and looking up at her
+with lovely, solicitous eyes. Treachery and deceit became meaningless
+terms in such connection.
+
+"You haven't given us a chance to understand, Eleanor. What is the
+trouble?" Mr. Pennington demanded.
+
+"Uncle Gerry, I am afraid it is I," said Margaret Elizabeth, picking up
+the note from the floor where it had fallen. "I am sorry, you know I am,
+that I can't do as she wishes, but you understand that I can't. Tell
+her, please, that I did honestly try to think I could, but it wasn't of
+any use."
+
+"Oh, come now, Eleanor, if that is it, of course we wanted Margaret
+Elizabeth up at the Park; but the young people of this generation like
+to manage their own affairs, as we did before them." Mr. Pennington
+looked quizzically at his niece. "She's been getting up a bit of
+melodrama for our benefit, that's all. If you will pardon the
+suggestion, my dear, I think possibly it is you who do not understand."
+
+Margaret Elizabeth, rising from her lowly position, threw him a kiss
+over her aunt's head.
+
+"How can I be expected to, with everything shrouded in mystery?" cried
+Mrs. Pennington. "Why have I never heard of this person before? Why was
+I left to be told dreadful things by a reporter?"
+
+"A reporter!" cried Margaret Elizabeth, in her turn aghast.
+
+"Nonsense! If you heard anything dreadful you know Margaret Elizabeth
+well enough to know it was not true. But how in the world could a
+reporter have got hold of it?"
+
+"You speak so confidently, Gerrard, tell me, what do you know about this
+man?" Mrs. Pennington looked from her niece to her husband. "Margaret
+Elizabeth seems to have completely won you to her side," she added.
+
+"It is really a very strange story, Eleanor, and to begin at the end of
+it, we have quite sufficient evidence, in my opinion, to prove that he
+is the son of my old comrade, Robert Waite."
+
+Mrs. Pennington fixed surprised eyes upon her husband. Margaret
+Elizabeth sat down and folded her hands in her lap.
+
+"You recall how Rob disappeared, without a word to any of his friends?
+It was not till some years after the general's death that I had the
+least clue to it; then William Knight came to me to know if I could
+give any help in tracing him. He owned that there had been some trouble
+between General Waite and Robert, and that the latter had been unjustly
+treated. I couldn't give him any assistance, and I never discussed it
+with him again. Knight was always close-mouthed, and it was only the
+other day that I learned what the trouble was. It seems the general
+suspected his nephew of taking a large sum of money from the safe in his
+library. It was one of those cases of complete circumstantial evidence.
+Rob was known to have lost money on the races. He was the only one
+beside the general himself who had access to the safe, and who knew that
+this money, several thousand dollars, was there at this time. That is,
+so it was supposed.
+
+"Knowing them both, one can easily understand the outcome. Robert
+disappeared, and a few years later, when the general died, he left his
+fortune to William Knight, his wife's nephew. Then after some little
+time the real thief turned up. I won't go into that, further than to
+say that it was through a deathbed confession to a priest. Since then
+Knight has been searching far and wide for some trace of Robert, only
+to receive last week the evidence of his death twenty-five years ago.
+And now comes the strange part of the story. The very day on which
+he received this news, Knight came by chance upon a book which he
+recognised as once the property of Robert Waite. The owner's name was
+cut from the fly leaf, but below it was written the name of a young
+man whose acquaintance he had made last winter, Robert Deane Reynolds.
+Deane was Rob's middle name, so naturally it led to an investigation."
+
+Mr. Pennington looked over at Margaret Elizabeth. "Have I told a
+straight story?" he asked.
+
+"There were letters, you know," she prompted.
+
+"Oh, yes. This young man had letters which I could have identified
+anywhere."
+
+Mrs. Pennington was interested. She asked questions. That absurd story
+about a Candy Wagon was untrue then? But how had Margaret Elizabeth met
+this person? She still referred to him as a person. And somehow the
+united efforts of Margaret Elizabeth and Mr. Pennington failed to clear
+up the mystery, though they did their best.
+
+Even if the Candy Wagon episode was to be regarded as humorous, though
+it did not present itself in that light to Mrs. Pennington, how could
+Margaret Elizabeth have asked a Candy Man to her Christmas tree?
+
+"But you see, by that time I knew he wasn't real, Aunt Eleanor, and
+anyway--"
+
+"Now go slow, Margaret Elizabeth," cautioned her uncle. "At heart you
+are a confounded little socialist, but take my advice and keep it to
+yourself." He was thinking of what she had said to him only the day
+before: "You see, Uncle Gerry, you can't have everything. You have
+to choose. And while I like bigness and richness, I like Little Red
+Chimneys and what they stand for, best. I want to be on speaking terms
+with both ends, you see."
+
+"It is odd," Mr. Pennington went on, "the tricks heredity plays, and
+that this young man and Augustus McAllister should both hark back to a
+common ancestor for their general characteristics of build and feature.
+I was struck with the resemblance, myself."
+
+"It was what first attracted me," owned Margaret Elizabeth demurely.
+
+The name of Augustus still had painful associations for Mrs. Pennington.
+She rose. "Really we must be going," she said. At some future time she
+felt she might be able to meet Mr. Reynolds or Waite, or whatever his
+name was, with equanimity, but now she was thankful to hear he had gone
+back to Chicago for some papers.
+
+She received Margaret Elizabeth's farewell embrace languidly. "Since
+there is such weight of authority in your favour, and matters have
+developed so strangely, there is nothing for me to say. I dislike
+mystery, and prefer to have things go on regularly and according to
+precedent. It is your welfare I have at heart."
+
+Mr. Pennington's good-by was different.
+
+"I don't wonder you like it down here, Margaret Elizabeth--this room,
+you know," he said.
+
+As they drove homeward Mrs. Pennington was engaged in mentally
+reconstructing affairs. "Of course," she heard herself saying, "it was
+a disappointment to me, but romantic girls are not to be controlled by
+common-sense aunts, and really it might be worse." And she remarked
+aloud: "The fact that he is a nephew of General Waite means something."
+
+"That's so," assented her husband. "Something like half a million.
+Old Knight is determined to hand it all over." He smiled to himself,
+then added: "He came to see me--the young man, I mean. I liked him.
+He suggested Rob a little without resembling him. Very gentlemanly;
+nice eyes."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER FIFTEEN
+
+_In which the Fairy Godmother Society is again mentioned, among other
+things_.
+
+
+"But it is really embarrassing when I had made up my mind to marry a
+poor Candy Man to have it turn out so. I rather liked defying common
+sense," said Margaret Elizabeth.
+
+The Candy Man had made a hurried journey to Chicago, and was back before
+the rain was over, and while it was still cold enough for a fire, so
+that his old dream of sometime sitting by the Little Red Chimney's
+hearth was coming true. Margaret Elizabeth in the blue dress, by
+request, though she declared it wasn't fit to be seen, occupied the
+ottoman, her elbows on her knees, the firelight playing in her bright
+hair.
+
+"It is the way it happens in fairy-tales," urged the Candy Man. "And I
+really couldn't help it."
+
+"Of course you are right," she agreed. "As Virginia's story runs, 'He
+turned into a prince, and because Violetta had been true to him through
+thick and thin, he made her a princess.' Anyhow, Candy Man, I'm glad I
+chose you before your good fortune came."
+
+"It was an extremely venturesome thing to do, Girl of All Others, as
+I have told you before, though immensely flattering to me. I have to
+take the money, there is no way out of it. I believe it would break our
+Miser's heart if I refused. Do you know what he was proposing to do
+before he found the book?"
+
+"What?" asked Margaret Elizabeth.
+
+"To adopt me. You see we had come to be pretty good friends last
+winter, and I think he suspected from the start that I had rather lofty
+aspirations for a Candy Man. In a Little Red Chimney direction--you
+understand?"
+
+"Perfectly--go on."
+
+"Well, he saw us in the park----"
+
+"And his suspicions were confirmed, I suppose," put in Margaret
+Elizabeth, coolly.
+
+"Exactly. And knowing from what I had told him previously that I had
+my fortune to seek, it occurred to him that as the channel he had been
+hoping for had been closed, the next best thing would be to make it
+possible for two young persons to----"
+
+"The dear old Miser!" interrupted Margaret Elizabeth. "But why is he so
+unwilling to use the money himself? It is honestly his."
+
+"I may not fully understand, but I think from things he has said, that
+as a boy he was jealous of my father. This feeling would naturally make
+him, when it came to the test, not unwilling to believe in his guilt.
+Then, being reticent and introspective, he magnified all this a
+thousandfold when the truth came out, and he realised he had profited by
+the unjust suspicion. By dwelling upon it he came to feel as if he had
+actually obtained the money himself by unfair means. But I am convinced
+that if he did encourage his uncle to believe in my father's guilt, it
+was because he firmly believed it himself. Never since the facts were
+known has he regarded the money as his, and not until he had almost
+exhausted his own means in the effort to trace the rightful owner, as
+he regarded him, did he use a penny of it."
+
+"It is so touching to see his surprise and gratitude that I do not feel
+resentful toward him," added the Candy Man. "His joy at handing over
+this fortune is wonderful. He already looks a different man."
+
+"We must make it up to him in some way," said Margaret Elizabeth. "I
+mean for all these lonely years. Speaking of money, I'll tell you what
+I have been thinking. When we build our house, as I suppose we shall
+some day, when we come back from our search for the Archćologist----"
+
+"By all means. That is one mitigating circumstance. We can build a
+house," responded the Candy Man.
+
+"Well, as I was going to say, we must have a Little Red Chimney. The
+house will be broad and low," she extended her arms, "and with wings;
+I love wings. One of them shall have a Little Red Chimney all its own.
+It shall stand for our ideals. If we should be tempted to a sort of life
+that separates us from our fellows, it will remind us, you, that you
+once sat in a Candy Wagon, me, that I fell in love with a Candy Man. And
+I'll tell you what, speaking of the Miser. Don't you remember? It was he
+you meant that day when we were talking about the Fairy Godmother
+Society, and----"
+
+Of course the Candy Man remembered.
+
+"Then, let's organise and make him chief agent while we are gone. I know
+of a number of things to be done."
+
+"So do I," said the Candy Man. "There is my fellow lodger, the one I
+told you about, a teacher in the High School. He needs a real change
+this summer, he and his wife."
+
+"Oh, I am sure we can work it out," cried Margaret Elizabeth.
+
+"I am sure we can," he assented.
+
+"You see it will begin where organised charity leaves off, of necessity.
+Also where that can't possibly penetrate, and it will be singularly
+free, because secret."
+
+"Again you sound like the minutes of the first meeting," said the Candy
+Man.
+
+"Margaret Elizabeth!"
+
+It was Uncle Bob's voice at the door. "I hate to disturb you, but that
+old bore at the club wants your father's address."
+
+"You aren't disturbing. Come in and hear about the Fairy Godmother
+Society."
+
+"You don't mean really?" Uncle Bob stood before the hearth and looked
+from his niece to the Candy Man.
+
+"Indeed we do," she answered. "You see we have ten times as much money
+as we thought we had. So why not?"
+
+"Quite correct, as we thought we hadn't any," murmured the Candy Man.
+
+Uncle Bob rubbed his hands in delight. "I told Prue you'd do something
+of the sort; that you wouldn't just settle down to be ordinary rich
+people. But Prue says riches bring caution."
+
+Margaret Elizabeth, going to her desk for the address, laughed. "We
+aren't going to forget our humble beginning," she said; "and we'll act
+quickly before we are inured to our new estate."
+
+"But then, you know, there is another side to it," her uncle interposed,
+in a sudden access of prudence. "You must consider the matter carefully
+with an eye to the future. For instance now, there may be heirs."
+
+A silence fell. The fire crackled, and the clock ticked with unusual
+distinctness. Then Margaret Elizabeth spoke.
+
+"Here's the address," she said. "I'll put it in your pocket, where you
+can't forget it." And as she tucked it in, she added, stoutly, with a
+lovely deepening of the colour in her cheek: "If there are, Uncle Bob,
+they will be fairy god-brothers and sisters, so it will be all right."
+
+It was after the door had closed upon Uncle Bob, and Margaret Elizabeth
+was back on her low seat again, that the Candy Man left his chair and
+sat on the rug beside her. "Girl of All Others, is there any one else
+in the world as happy as I?" he asked.
+
+Margaret Elizabeth smiled at him with eyes that answered the question
+before she spoke. Then she said, slipping her hand into his, "One
+other."
+
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The Little Red Chimney, by Mary Finley Leonard
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Little Red Chimney, by Mary Finley Leonard
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Little Red Chimney
+       Being the Love Story of a Candy Man
+
+Author: Mary Finley Leonard
+
+Release Date: March 18, 2005 [EBook #15406]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LITTLE RED CHIMNEY ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Kentuckiana Digital library, David Garcia and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+<h1>
+    THE LITTLE RED CHIMNEY
+</h1>
+<a name="image-0001"><!--IMG--></a>
+<center>
+<img src="images/ill-01.png" width="430" height="725" alt="The Candy Man" />
+<br /><span style="font-variant: small-caps;">The Candy Man</span>
+</center>
+
+<a name="h2H_4_0001" id="h2H_4_0001"><!-- H2 anchor --></a>
+
+<div style="height: 4em;"><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>
+
+<h1>
+    The Little Red Chimney
+</h1>
+<h2>
+    <i>Being the Love Story of a Candy Man</i>
+</h2>
+<h3>
+BY MARY FINLEY LEONARD
+</h3>
+
+<div style="height: 4em;"><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>
+
+<h3>
+    Illustrations in Silhouette
+<br />
+    by KATHARINE GASSAWAY
+</h3>
+
+<hr class="full" />
+
+<div style="height: 4em;"><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>
+
+<h2>
+    CONTENTS
+</h2>
+<p>
+<a href="#h2HCH0001"><i>CHAPTER I</i></a>
+</p>
+<p>
+In which the curtain rises on the Candy Wagon, and the leading
+characters are thrown together in a perfectly logical manner by Fate.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a href="#h2HCH0002"><i>CHAPTER II</i></a>
+</p>
+<p>
+In which the Candy Man walks abroad in citizen's clothes, and is
+mistaken for a person of wealth and social importance.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a href="#h2HCH0003"><i>CHAPTER III</i></a>
+</p>
+<p>
+In which the Little Red Chimney appears on the horizon, but without
+a clue to its importance. In which also the Candy Man has a glimpse
+of high life and is foolishly depressed by it.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a href="#h2HCH0004"><i>CHAPTER IV</i></a>
+</p>
+<p>
+In which the Candy Man again sees the Grey Suit, and Virginia continues
+the story of the Little Red Chimney.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a href="#h2HCH0005"><i>CHAPTER V</i></a>
+</p>
+<p>
+In which the double life of the heroine is explained, and Augustus
+McAllister proves an alibi.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a href="#h2HCH0006"><i>CHAPTER VI</i></a>
+</p>
+<p>
+In which Margaret Elizabeth is discussed at the Breakfast Table; in
+which also, later on, she and Virginia and Uncle Bob talk before the
+fire, and in which finally Margaret Elizabeth seeks consolation by
+relating to Uncle Bob her adventure in the park.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a href="#h2HCH0007"><i>CHAPTER VII</i></a>
+</p>
+<p>
+Shows how the Candy Wagon is visited in behalf of the Squirrel, and how
+pride suffers a fall; how Miss Bentley turns to Vedantic Philosophy to
+drown her annoyance, and discovers how hard it is to forget when you
+wish to.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a href="#h2HCH0008"><i>CHAPTER VIII</i></a>
+</p>
+<p>
+In which the Miser's past history is touched upon; which shows how his
+solitude is again invaded, and how he makes a new friend.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a href="#h2HCH0009"><i>CHAPTER IX</i></a>
+</p>
+<p>
+Shows how Miss Bentley and the Reporter take refuge in a cave, and how,
+in the course of the conversation which follows, she hears something
+which disposes her to feel more kindly toward the Candy Man; shows also
+how Uncle Bob proves faithless to his trust and his niece finds herself
+locked out in consequence.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a href="#h2HCH0010"><i>CHAPTER X</i></a>
+</p>
+<p>
+In which the Little Red Chimney keeps Festival, and the Candy Man
+receives an unexpected invitation.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a href="#h2HCH0011"><i>CHAPTER XI</i></a>
+</p>
+<p>
+In which a radical change of atmosphere is at once noticed; which shows
+how Miss Bentley repents of a too coming-on disposition, and lends an
+ear to the advantages of wealth.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a href="#h2HCH0012"><i>CHAPTER XII</i></a>
+</p>
+<p>
+Which shows Miss Bentley recovering from a fit of what Uncle Bob calls
+Cantankerousness; in which a shipwrecked letter is brought to light, and
+Dr. Prue is called again to visit the child of the Park Superintendent.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a href="#h2HCH0013"><i>CHAPTER XIII</i></a>
+</p>
+<p>
+In which the Candy Man relates his story, and the Miser comes upon
+Volume I of the shabby book with the funny name.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a href="#h2HCH0014"><i>CHAPTER XIV</i></a>
+</p>
+<p>
+Shows how Mrs. Gerrard Pennington, unhappy and distraught, beseeches
+Uncle Bob to help her save Margaret Elizabeth; also how Mr. Gerrard
+Pennington comes to the rescue, and how in the end his wife submits
+gracefully to the inevitable, which is not so bad after all.
+</p>
+<p>
+<a href="#h2HCH0015"><i>CHAPTER XV</i></a>
+</p>
+<p>
+In which the Fairy Godmother Society is again mentioned, among other
+things.
+</p>
+
+
+<a name="h2H_ILLU" id="h2H_ILLU"><!-- H2 anchor --></a>
+
+<div style="height: 4em;"><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>
+
+<h2>
+    ILLUSTRATIONS
+</h2>
+<p>
+<a href="#image-0001">THE CANDY MAN</a>
+</p>
+<p>
+<a href="#image-0002">MARGARET ELIZABETH</a>
+</p>
+<p>
+<a href="#image-0003">VIRGINIA</a>
+</p>
+<p>
+<a href="#image-0004">DR. PRUE</a>
+</p>
+<p>
+<a href="#image-0005">UNCLE BOB</a>
+</p>
+<p>
+<a href="#image-0006">THE MISER</a>
+</p>
+<p>
+<a href="#image-0007">COUSIN AUGUSTUS</a>
+</p>
+<p>
+<a href="#image-0008">MRS. GERRARD PENNINGTON</a>
+</p>
+
+<div style="height: 4em;"><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0;">
+To <br />
+George Madden Martin
+</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<div style="height: 4em;"><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>
+
+<h1>
+THE LITTLE RED CHIMNEY
+</h1>
+<a name="h2HCH0001" id="h2HCH0001"><!-- H2 anchor --></a>
+
+<div style="height: 4em;"><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>
+
+<h2>
+    CHAPTER ONE
+</h2>
+<p class="ctitle">
+<i>In which the curtain rises on the Candy Wagon, and the leading
+characters are thrown together in a perfectly logical manner by
+Fate</i>.
+</p>
+<p>
+The Candy Wagon stood in its accustomed place on the Y.M.C.A. corner.
+The season was late October, and the leaves from the old sycamores, in
+league with the east wind, after waging a merry war with the janitor all
+morning, had swept, a triumphant host, across the broad sidewalk, to lie
+in heaps of golden brown along the curb and beneath the wheels of the
+Candy Wagon. In the intervals of trade, never brisk before noon, the
+Candy Man had watched the game, taking sides with the leaves.
+</p>
+<p>
+Down the steps of the Y.M.C.A. building sauntered the Reporter.
+Perceiving the Candy Wagon at the curb he paused, scrutinising it
+jauntily, through a monocle formed by a thumb and finger.
+</p>
+<p>
+The wagon, freshly emblazoned in legends of red, yellow and blue which
+advertised the character and merits of its wares, stood with its
+horseless shafts turned back and upward, in something of a prayerful
+attitude. The Reporter, advancing, lifted his arms in imitation, and
+recited: "Confident that upon investigation you will find everything as
+represented, we remain Yours to command, in fresh warpaint." He seated
+himself upon the adjacent carriage block and grinned widely at the
+Candy Man.
+</p>
+<p>
+In spite of a former determination to confine his intercourse with the
+Reporter to strictly business lines, the Candy Man could not help a
+responsive grin.
+</p>
+<p>
+The representative of the press demanded chewing gum, and receiving it,
+proceeded to remove its threefold wrappings and allow them to slip
+through his fingers to the street. "Women," he said, with seeming
+irrelevance and in a tone of defiance, "used to be at the bottom of
+everything; now they're on top."
+</p>
+<p>
+The Candy Man was quick at putting two and two together. "I infer you
+are not in sympathy with the efforts of the Woman's Club and the Outdoor
+League to promote order and cleanliness in our home city," he observed,
+his eye on the débris so carelessly deposited upon the public
+thoroughfare.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Right you are. Your inference is absolutely correct. The foundations of
+this American Commonwealth are threatened, and the <i>Evening Record</i>
+don't stand for it. Life's made a burden, liberty curtailed, happiness
+pursued at the point of the dust-pan. Here is the Democratic party of
+the State pledged to School Suffrage. The Equal Rights Association is to
+meet here next month, and&mdash;the mischief is, the pretty ones are taking
+it up! The first thing you know the Girl of All Others will be saying,
+'Embrace me, embrace my cause.' Why, my Cousin Augustus met a regular
+peach of a girl at the country club,&mdash;visiting at the Gerrard
+Penningtons', don't you know, and almost the first question she asked
+him was did he believe in equal rights?" The Reporter paused for breath,
+pushing his hat back to the farthest limit and regarding the Candy Man
+curiously. "It is funny," he added, "how much you look like my Cousin
+Augustus. I wonder now if he could have been twins, and one stolen by
+the gypsies? You don't chance to have been stolen in infancy?"
+</p>
+<p>
+This innocent question annoyed the Candy Man, although he ignored it,
+murmuring something to the effect that the Reporter's talents pointed to
+the stump. It might have been a guilty conscience or merely impatience
+at such flagrant nonsense, for surely he could not reasonably object
+to resembling Cousin Augustus. The Candy Man was a well-enough looking
+young fellow in his white jacket and cap, but nothing to brag of, that
+he need be haughty about a likeness to one so far above him in the
+social scale, whom in fact he had never seen.
+</p>
+<p>
+The Reporter lingered in thoughtful silence while some westbound
+transfers purchased refreshment, then as a trio of theological students
+paused at the Candy Wagon, he restored his hat to its normal position
+and strolled away. On the Y.M.C.A. corner business had waked up.
+</p>
+<p>
+For some time the Candy Wagon continued to reap a harvest from the rush
+of High School boys and younger children. Morning became afternoon,
+the clouds which the east wind had been industriously beating up
+gathered in force, and a fine rain began to fall. The throng on the
+street perceptibly lessened; the Candy Man had leisure once more to
+look about him.
+</p>
+<p>
+A penetrating mist was veiling everything; the stone church, the
+seminary buildings, the tall apartment houses, the few old residences
+not yet crowded out, the drug store, the confectionery&mdash;all were softly
+blurred. The asphalt became a grey lake in which all the colour and
+movement of the busy street was reflected, and upon whose bosom the
+Candy Wagon seemed afloat. As the Candy Man watched, gleams of light
+presently began to pierce the mist, from a hundred windows, from passing
+street cars and cabs, from darting machines now transformed into
+strange, double-eyed demons. It was a scene of enchantment, and with
+pleasure he felt himself part of it, as in his turn he lit up his wagon.
+</p>
+<p>
+The traffic officer, whose shrill whistle sounded continually above the
+clang of the trolley cars and the hoarse screams of impatient machines,
+probably viewed the situation differently. Given slippery streets,
+intersecting car lines, an increasing throng of vehicles and
+pedestrians, with a fog growing denser each moment, and the utmost
+vigilance is often helpless to avert an accident. So it was now.
+</p>
+<p>
+The Candy Man did not actually see the occurrence, but later it
+developed that an automobile, in attempting to turn the corner,
+skidded, grazing the front of a car which had stopped to discharge some
+passengers, then crashing into a telegraph pole on the opposite side of
+the street. What he did see was the frightened rush of the crowd to the
+sidewalk, and in the rush, a girl, just stepping from the car, caught
+and carried forward and jostled in such a manner that she lost her
+footing and fell almost beneath the wheels of the Candy Wagon, and
+dangerously near the hoofs of a huge draught horse, brought by its
+driver to a halt in the nick of time.
+</p>
+<p>
+The Candy Man was out and at her side in an instant, assisting her
+to rise. The panic swept past them, leaving only a long-legged child
+in a red tam, and a sad-faced elderly man in its wake. The Candy Man
+had seen all three before. The wearer of the red tam was one of the
+apartment-house children, the sad man was popularly known to the
+neighbourhood as the Miser, and the girl, to whose assistance he had
+sprung&mdash;well, he had seen her on two previous occasions.
+</p>
+<p>
+As she stood in some bewilderment looking ruefully at the mud on her
+gloves and skirt, the merest glance showed her to be the sort of girl
+any one might have been glad to help.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Thank you, I am not hurt&mdash;only rather shaken," she said in answer to
+the Candy Man.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Here's your bag," announced the long-legged child, fishing it out of
+the soggy mass of leaves beneath the wagon. "And you need not worry
+about your skirt. Take it to Bauer's just round the corner; they'll
+clean it," she added.
+</p>
+<p>
+The owner of the bag received it and the accompanying advice with an
+adorable smile in which there was merriment as well as appreciation.
+The Miser plucked the Candy Man by the sleeve and asked if the young
+lady did not wish a cab.
+</p>
+<p>
+She answered for herself. "Thank you, no; I am quite all right&mdash;only
+muddy. But was it a bad accident? What happened?"
+</p>
+<p>
+The Miser crossed the street where the crowd had gathered, to
+investigate, and returning reported the chauffeur probably done for.
+While he was gone the conductor of the street car appeared in quest of
+the names and addresses of everybody within a radius of ten blocks. In
+this way the Candy Man learned that her name was Bentley. She gave it
+reluctantly, as persons do on such occasions, and he failed to catch
+her street and number.
+</p>
+<p>
+"I'm very sorry! I suppose there is nothing one can do?" she exclaimed,
+apropos of the chauffeur, and the next the Candy Man knew she was
+walking away in the mist hand in hand with the long-legged child.
+</p>
+<p>
+"An unusually charming face," the Miser remarked, raising his umbrella.
+</p>
+<p>
+To the sober mind "unusually charming" would seem a not unworthy
+compliment, but the Candy Man, as he resumed his place in the wagon,
+smiled scornfully at what he was pleased to consider its grotesque
+inadequacy. If he had anything better to offer, the Miser did not stay
+to hear it, but with a courteous "good evening" disappeared in his
+turn in the mist. An ambulance carried away the injured man, the crowd
+dispersed; the remains of the machine were towed away to a near-by
+garage. Night fell; the throng grew less, the rain gathered courage and
+became a downpour. There would be little doing in the way of business
+to-night.
+</p>
+<p>
+As he made ready for early closing the Candy Man fell to thinking of the
+girl whose name was Bentley. Not that the name interested him save as a
+means of further identification. It was a phrase used by the Reporter
+this morning that occurred to him now as peculiarly applicable to her.
+The Girl of All Others! He rolled it as a sweet morsel under his tongue,
+undisturbed by the reflection that such descriptive titles are at
+present overworked&mdash;in dreams one has no need to be original.
+</p>
+<p>
+Neither did it strike him as incongruous that he should have seen her
+first in the grocery kept by Mr. Simms, who catered to the needs of such
+as got their own breakfasts, and whose boiled ham was becoming famous,
+because it was really done. He went back to the experience, dwelling
+with pleasure upon each detail of it, even his annoyance at the grocer's
+daughter, who exchanged crochet patterns with the tailor's wife, after
+the manner of a French exercise, and ignored him. It was early and
+business had not yet begun on the Y.M.C.A. corner; still he could not
+wait forever. The grocer himself, who was attending to the wants of a
+lean and hungry-looking student, had just handed his rolls and smoked
+sausage across the counter, with a cheery "Breakfast is ready, ring the
+bell," when the door opened and the Girl of All Others came in.
+</p>
+<p>
+She was tallish, but not very tall, and somewhat slight. She wore a grey
+suit&mdash;the same which had suffered this afternoon from contact with the
+street, and a soft felt hat of the same colour jammed down anyhow on her
+bright hair and pinned with a pinkish quill&mdash;or so it looked. The face
+beneath the bright hair was&mdash;&mdash; But at this point in his recollections
+the Candy Man all but lost himself in a maze of adjectives and adverbs.
+We know, at least, how the long-legged child ran to help, and finally
+went off hand in hand with her, and what the Miser said of her, and
+after all the best the Candy Man could do was to go back to the
+Reporter's phrase.
+</p>
+<p>
+He had withdrawn a little behind a stack of breakfast foods where he
+could watch her, wondering that the clerks did not drop their several
+customers without ceremony and fly to do her bidding. She stood beside
+the counter and made overtures to a large Maltese cat who reposed there
+in solemn majesty. Beside the Maltese rose a pyramid of canned goods,
+and a placard announced, "Of interest to light house keepers." Upon this
+her eyes rested in evident surprise. "I didn't know there were any
+lighthouses in this part of the country," she said half aloud.
+</p>
+<a name="image-0002"><!--IMG--></a>
+<center>
+<img src="images/ill-02.png" width="511" height="772" alt="Margaret Elizabeth" />
+<br /><span style="font-variant: small-caps;">Margaret Elizabeth</span>
+</center>
+
+<p>
+The Maltese laid a protesting paw upon her arm. It was not, however, the
+absurdity of her remark, but the cessation of her caresses he protested
+against. At the same moment her eyes met those of the Candy Man, across
+the stack of breakfast foods. His were laughing, and hers were instantly
+withdrawn. He saw her colour mounting as she exclaimed, addressing the
+cat, "How perfectly idiotic!"
+</p>
+<p>
+He longed to assure her it was a perfectly natural mistake, the placard
+being but an amateurish affair; but he lacked the courage.
+</p>
+<p>
+And then the grocer, having disposed of another customer, advanced to
+serve her, and the grocer's daughter, it seemed, was also at leisure;
+and though he would have preferred to watch the Girl of All Others doing
+the family marketing in a most competent manner, a thoughtful finger
+upon her lip, the Candy Man was forced to attend to his own business.
+In selecting a basket of grapes and ordering them sent to St. Mary's
+Hospital, he presently lost sight of her.
+</p>
+<p>
+Once since then she had passed his corner on her way up the street.
+That was all until to-night. It seemed probable that she lived in the
+neighbourhood. Perhaps the Reporter would know.
+</p>
+<p>
+Just here the recollection that he was a Candy Man brought him up short.
+His bright dreams began to fade. The Girl of All Others should of course
+be able to recognise true worth, even in a Candy Wagon, but such is the
+power of convention he was forced to own to himself it was more than
+possible she might not. Or if she did, her friends&mdash;&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+But these disheartening reflections were curtailed by the sudden
+appearance of a stout, grey horse under the conduct of a small boy. The
+shafts were lowered, the grey horse placed between them, and, after a
+few more preliminaries, the Candy Wagon, Candy Man and all, were removed
+from the scene of action, leaving the Y.M.C.A. corner to the rain and
+the fog, the gleaming lights, and the ceaseless clang of the trolley
+cars.
+</p>
+<a name="h2HCH0002" id="h2HCH0002"><!-- H2 anchor --></a>
+
+<div style="height: 4em;"><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>
+
+<h2>
+    CHAPTER TWO
+</h2>
+<p class="ctitle">
+<i>In which the Candy Man walks abroad in citizen's clothes, and is
+mistaken for a person of wealth and social importance.</i>
+</p>
+<p>
+The Candy Man strolled along a park path. The October day was crisp, the
+sky the bluest blue, the sunny landscape glowing with autumn's fairest
+colours. It was a Sunday morning not many days after the events of the
+first chapter, and back in the city the church bells were ringing for
+eleven o'clock service.
+</p>
+<p>
+In citizen's clothes, and well-fitting ones at that, the Candy Man was
+a presentable young fellow. If his face seemed at first glance a trifle
+stern, this sternness was offset by the light in his eyes; a steady,
+purposeful glow, through which played at the smallest excuse a humorous
+twinkle.
+</p>
+<p>
+After the ceaseless stir of the Y.M.C.A. corner, the stillness of the
+park was most grateful. At this hour on Sunday, if he avoided the golf
+grounds, it was to all intents his own. His objective point was a rustic
+arbour hung with rose vines and clematis, where was to be had a view of
+the river as it made an abrupt turn around the opposite hills. Here he
+might read, or gaze and dream, as it pleased him, reasonably secure from
+interruption once he had possession.
+</p>
+<p>
+The Candy Man breathed deeply, and smiled to himself. It was a day to
+inspire confident dreams, for the joy of fulfilment was over the land.
+Was it the sudden fear that some other dreamer might be before him, or
+a subconscious prevision of what actually awaited him, that caused him
+to quicken his steps as he neared the arbour? However it may have been,
+as he took at a bound the three steps which led up to it, he came with
+startling suddenness upon Miss Bentley entering from the other side,
+her arms full of flowers. Their eyes met in a flash of recognition
+which there was no time to control. She bowed, not ungraciously, yet
+distantly, and with a faint puzzled frown on her brow, and he, as he
+lifted his hat, spoke her name, which, as he was not supposed to know
+it, he had no business to do; then they both laughed at the way in which
+they had bounced in at the same moment from opposite directions.
+</p>
+<p>
+With some remark about the delightful day, the Candy Man, as a gentleman
+should, tried to pretend he was merely passing through, and though it
+was but a feeble performance, Miss Bentley should have accepted it
+without protest, then all would have been well. Instead, she said, still
+with that puzzled half frown, "Don't go, I am only waiting here a moment
+for my cousin, who has stopped at the superintendent's cottage." She
+motioned over her shoulder to a vine-covered dwelling just visible
+through the trees.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Please do not put it in that way," he protested. "As if your being here
+did not add tremendously to my desire to remain. I am conscious of
+rushing in most unceremoniously upon you, and&mdash;&mdash;"
+</p>
+<p>
+Hesitating there, hat in hand, his manners were disarmingly frank. Miss
+Bentley laughed again as she deposited her flowers, a mass of pink and
+white cosmos, upon a bench, and sat down beside them. She seemed willing
+to have him put it as he liked. She wore the same grey suit and soft
+felt hat, jammed down any way on her bright hair and pinned with a
+pinkish quill, and was somehow, more emphatically than before, the Girl
+of All Others.
+</p>
+<p>
+How could a Candy Man be expected to know what he was about? What wonder
+that his next remark should be a hope that she had suffered no ill
+effects from the accident?
+</p>
+<p>
+"None at all, thank you," Miss Bentley replied, and the puzzled
+expression faded. It was as if she inwardly exclaimed, "Now I know!"
+"Aunt Eleanor," she added, "was needlessly alarmed. I seem rather given
+to accidents of late." Thus saying she began to arrange her flowers.
+</p>
+<p>
+The Candy Man dropped down on the step where the view&mdash;of Miss
+Bentley&mdash;was most charming, as she softly laid one bloom upon another in
+caressing fashion, her curling lashes now almost touching her cheek, now
+lifted as she looked away to the river, or bent her gaze upon the
+occupant of the step.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Do you often come here?" she asked, adding when he replied that this
+was the third time, that she thought he had rather an air of
+proprietorship.
+</p>
+<p>
+He laughed at this, and explained how he had set out to pay a visit to
+a sick boy at St. Mary's Hospital, but had allowed the glorious day to
+tempt him to the park.
+</p>
+<p>
+Below them on the terraced hillside a guard sat reading his paper;
+across the meadow a few golfers were to be seen against the horizon.
+All about them the birds and squirrels were busily minding their own
+affairs; above them smiled the blue, blue sky, and the cousin, whoever
+he or she might be, considerately lingered.
+</p>
+<p>
+Like the shining river their talk flowed on. Beginning like it as a
+shallow stream, it broadened and deepened on its way, till presently
+fairy godmothers became its theme.
+</p>
+<p>
+Miss Bentley was never able to recall what led up to it. The Candy Man
+only remembered her face, as, holding a crimson bloom against her cheek,
+she smiled down upon him thoughtfully, and asked him to guess what she
+meant to do when some one left her a fortune. "I have a strange
+presentiment that some one is going to," she said.
+</p>
+<p>
+"How delightful!" he exclaimed, but did not hazard a guess, and she
+continued without giving him a chance: "I shall establish a Fairy
+Godmother Fund, the purpose of which shall be the distribution of good
+times; of pleasures large and small, among people who have few or none."
+</p>
+<p>
+"It sounds," was the Candy Man's comment, "like the minutes of the first
+meeting. Please explain further. How will you select your beneficiaries?"
+</p>
+<p>
+"I don't like your word," she objected. "Beneficiaries and fairy
+godmothers somehow do not go together. Still, I see what you mean, and
+while I have not as yet worked out the plan, I'm confident it could be
+managed. Suppose we know a poor teacher, for instance, who has nothing
+left over from her meagre salary after the necessary things are provided
+for, and who is, we'll say, hungry for grand opera. We would enclose
+opera tickets with a note asking her to go and have a good time, signed,
+'Your Fairy Godmother,' and with a postscript something like this, 'If
+you cannot use them, hand them on to another of my godchildren.' Don't
+you think she would accept them?"
+</p>
+<p>
+Under the spell of those lovely, serious eyes, the Candy Man rather
+thought she would.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Of course," Miss Bentley went on, "it must be a secret society, never
+mentioned in the papers, unknown to those you call its beneficiaries.
+In this way there will be no occasion or demand for gratitude. No
+obligations will be imposed upon the recipients&mdash;that word is as bad as
+yours&mdash;let's call them godchildren&mdash;and the fairy godmother will have
+her fun in giving the good times, without bothering over whether they
+are properly grateful."
+</p>
+<p>
+"You seem to have a grievance against gratitude," said the Candy Man
+laughing.
+</p>
+<p>
+"I have," she owned.
+</p>
+<p>
+"There are people who contend that there is little or none of it in the
+world," he added.
+</p>
+<p>
+"And I am not sure it was meant there should be&mdash;much of it, I mean. It
+is an emotion&mdash;would you call it an emotion?"
+</p>
+<p>
+"You might," said the Candy Man.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Well, an emotion that turns to dust and ashes when you try to
+experience it, or demand it of others," concluded Miss Bentley with
+emphasis. "And you needn't laugh," she added.
+</p>
+<p>
+The Candy Man disclaimed any thought of such a thing. He was profoundly
+serious. "It is really a great idea," he said. "A human agency whose
+benefits could be received as we receive those of Nature or
+Providence&mdash;as impersonally."
+</p>
+<p>
+She nodded appreciatively. "You understand." And they were both aware
+of a sense of comradeship scarcely justified by the length of their
+acquaintance.
+</p>
+<p>
+"May I ask your ideas as to the amount of this fund?" he said.
+</p>
+<p>
+She considered a moment. "Well, say a hundred thousand," she suggested.
+</p>
+<p>
+"You are expecting a large bequest, then."
+</p>
+<p>
+"An income of five thousand would not be too much," insisted Miss
+Bentley. "We should wish to do bigger things than opera tickets, you
+know."
+</p>
+<p>
+"There are persons who perhaps need a fairy godmother, whom money
+cannot help," the Candy Man continued thoughtfully. "There's an old
+man&mdash;not so old either&mdash;a sad grey man, whom the children on our block
+call the Miser. I am not an adept in reading faces, but I am sure there
+is nothing mean in his. It is only sad. I get interested in people,"
+he added.
+</p>
+<p>
+"So do I," cried his companion. "And of course, you are right. The Fairy
+Godmother Society would have to have more than one department. Naturally
+opera tickets would not do your man any good&mdash;unless we could get him to
+send them."
+</p>
+<p>
+They laughed over this clever idea, and the Candy Man went on to say
+that there were lonely people in the world, who, through no fault of
+their own, were so circumstanced as to be cut off from those common
+human relationships which have much to do with the flavour of life.
+</p>
+<p>
+"I don't quite understand," Miss Bentley began. But these young persons
+were not to be left to settle the affairs of the universe in one
+morning. A handkerchief waved in the distance by a stoutish lady,
+interrupted. "There's Cousin Prue," Miss Bentley cried, springing to
+her feet.
+</p>
+<p>
+Hastily dividing her flowers into two bunches, she thrust one upon the
+Candy Man. "For your sick boy. You won't mind, as it isn't far. I have
+so enjoyed talking to you, Mr. McAllister. I shall hope to see you soon
+again. Aunt Eleanor often speaks of you."
+</p>
+<p>
+This sudden descent to the conventional greatly embarrassed the Candy
+Man, but he had no time for a word. Miss Bentley was off like a flash,
+across the grass, before he could collect his scattered wits. He looked
+after her, till, in company with the stout lady, she disappeared from
+view. Then with a whimsical expression on his countenance, he took a
+leather case from his breast pocket, and opening it glanced at one of
+the cards within. It was as if he doubted his own identity and wished
+to be reassured.
+</p>
+<p>
+The name engraved on the card was not McAllister, but Robert Deane
+Reynolds.
+</p>
+<a name="h2HCH0003" id="h2HCH0003"><!-- H2 anchor --></a>
+
+<div style="height: 4em;"><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>
+
+<h2>
+    CHAPTER THREE
+</h2>
+<p class="ctitle">
+<i>In which the Little Red Chimney appears on the horizon, but without
+a clue to its importance. In which also the Candy Man has a glimpse of
+high life and is foolishly depressed by it.</i>
+</p>
+<p>
+Starting from the Y.M.C.A. corner, walking up the avenue a block, then
+turning south, you came in a few steps to a modest grey house with a
+grass plat in front of it, a freshly reddened brick walk, and flower
+boxes in its windows. It was modest, not merely in the sense of being
+unpretentious, but also in that of a restrained propriety. You felt it
+to be a dwelling of character, wherein what should be done to-day, was
+never put off till to-morrow; where there was a place for everything and
+everything in it. Yet mingling with this propriety was an all-pervading
+cheer that appealed strongly to the homeless passerby.
+</p>
+<p>
+The grey house presented a gable end to the street, and stretched a
+wing comfortably on either side. In one of these was a glass door, with
+"Office Hours 10-1," which caused you to glance again at the sign on the
+iron gate: "Dr. Prudence Vandegrift."
+</p>
+<p>
+The other ell, which was of one story, had a double window, before
+which a rose bush grew, and when the blinds were up you had sometimes a
+glimpse of an opposite window, indicating that it was but one room deep.
+From its roof rose a small chimney that stood out from all the other
+chimneys, because, while they were grey like the house and its slate
+roof, it was red.
+</p>
+<p>
+Strolling by in a leisure hour the Candy Man had remarked it and
+wondered why, and found himself continuing to wonder. Somehow that
+little red chimney took hold on his imagination. It was a magical
+chimney, poetic, alluring, at once a cheering and a depressing little
+chimney, for it stirred him to delicious dreams, which, when they faded,
+left him forlorn.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was to Virginia he owed enlightenment. Virginia was the long-legged
+child who had fished Miss Bentley's bag from beneath the Candy Wagon,
+the indomitable leader of the Apartment House Pigeons, as the Candy Man
+had named them.
+</p>
+<p>
+The Apartment House did not exclude children, neither did it encourage
+them, and when their individual quarters became too contracted to
+contain their exuberance, they perforce sought the street. Like pigeons
+they would descend in a flock, here, there, everywhere; perching in a
+blissful row before the soda fountain in the drug store; or if the state
+of the public purse did not warrant this, the curbstone and the wares
+of the Candy Wagon were cheerfully substituted. By virtue no doubt of
+her long legs and masterful spirit, Virginia ruled the flock. Under her
+guidance they made existence a weariness to the several janitors on
+the block.
+</p>
+<p>
+As in defiance of law and order they circled one day on their roller
+skates, down the avenue and up the broad alley behind the Y.M.C.A.,
+round and round, Virginia issued her orders: "You all go on, I want to
+talk to the Candy Man."
+</p>
+<p>
+Being without as yet any theories, consistently democratic, she regarded
+him as a friend and brother. A state of society in which the position of
+Candy Man was next the throne, would have seemed perfectly logical to
+Virginia.
+</p>
+<a name="image-0003"><!--IMG--></a>
+<center>
+<img src="images/ill-03.png" width="403" height="722" alt="Virginia" />
+<br /><span style="font-variant: small-caps;">Virginia</span>
+</center>
+
+<p>
+"You don't look much like Tim," she volunteered, dangling her legs from
+the carriage block. Her hair was dark and severely bobbed; her miniature
+nose was covered with freckles, and she squinted a little.
+</p>
+<p>
+"No?" responded the Candy Man.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Tim was Irish," she continued.
+</p>
+<p>
+During business hours conversation of necessity took on a disjointed
+character. Unless you had great power of concentration you forgot in the
+intervals what you had been talking about. When a group of High School
+boys had been served and had gone their hilarious way Virginia began
+again. "You know the house with the Little Red Chimney?" she asked.
+</p>
+<p>
+The Candy Man did.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Well, a nice old man named Uncle Bob lives there, and I asked him why
+that chimney was red, and he said because it was new. A branch of a tree
+fell on the old one. The tree where the squirrel house is, you know."
+</p>
+<p>
+The Candy Man remembered the tree.
+</p>
+<p>
+"He said the doctor was going to have it painted, but he kind of liked
+it red, and so did her ladyship."
+</p>
+<p>
+"And who might her ladyship be?" the Candy Man inquired.
+</p>
+<p>
+"That's what I asked him, and he said, 'You come over and see,' and
+then he said&mdash;now listen to this, for it's just like a story." Virginia
+lifted an admonishing finger. "He said, whenever I saw smoke coming out
+of that Little Red Chimney, I might know her ladyship had come to town.
+You'd better believe I'm going to watch. And what do you think! I can
+see it from our dining-room window!" she concluded.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Most interesting," said the Candy Man politely, without the least idea
+how interesting it really was.
+</p>
+<p>
+Virginia's gaze suddenly fastened on a small book lying on the seat of
+the Candy Wagon, and she had seized it before its owner could protest.
+"What a funny name," she said. "'E p i c t e t u s.' What does that
+spell? And what made you cut a hole in this page? It looks like a
+window."
+</p>
+<p>
+The page was a fly leaf, from which a name, possibly that of a former
+owner, had been removed. Below it the Candy Man's own name was now
+written.
+</p>
+<p>
+"It was so when I got it," he answered, holding out his hand for it. He
+had no mind to have his book in any other keeping, for somewhere within
+its leaves lay a crimson flower.
+</p>
+<p>
+Before she returned it Virginia examined the back. "Vol. I, what does
+that mean?" she asked, and without waiting for an answer she tossed it
+back to him, and ran to join the other pigeons.
+</p>
+<p>
+From this time Virginia began to be almost as constant a visitor as
+the Reporter. She had a way of bursting into conversation without any
+preface whatever, speaking entirely from the fullness of her heart at
+the moment.
+</p>
+<p>
+"I'd give anything in the world to be pretty," she remarked one day,
+resting her school bag on the carriage block and sighing deeply.
+</p>
+<p>
+"But now honestly," said the Candy Man, regarding her gravely, "it seems
+to me you are a very nice-looking little girl, and who knows but you may
+turn out a great beauty some day? That is the way it happens in story
+books."
+</p>
+<p>
+Virginia returned his gaze steadily. "Do you really think there is any
+chance? You are not laughing?"
+</p>
+<p>
+He assured her he was intensely serious.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Well, you are the first person who ever told me that. Uncle Harry said,
+'Is it possible, Cornelia, that this is your child?' Cornelia is my
+mother, and she is a beauty. My brother is awfully good looking, too.
+Everybody thinks he ought to have been the girl. I'll tell you who I
+want to look like when I grow up. Don't you know that young lady who
+fell in the mud?"
+</p>
+<p>
+Oh, yes, the Candy Man knew, and applauded Virginia's ambition. He would
+have been pleased to enlarge on the subject, even to the extent of
+neglecting business, but just as she began to be interesting Virginia
+remembered an errand to the drug store, and ran away.
+</p>
+<p>
+That Sunday morning meeting with Miss Bentley had been reviewed by the
+Candy Man from every possible standpoint, and always, in conclusion,
+with the same questions. Could he have done otherwise? What would she
+think when she discovered her mistake? Who was his unknown double?
+</p>
+<p>
+The opportunity offering, he made some guarded inquiries of the
+Reporter.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Bentley?" repeated that gentleman, as he sharpened a bright yellow
+pencil. "Seem to have heard the name somewhere recently."
+</p>
+<p>
+It was a matter of no particular importance to the Candy Man. He had
+chanced to hear the name given to the conductor by the young lady who
+was thrown down the night of the accident, and wondered&mdash;&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+The Reporter, who wasn't listening, here exclaimed: "I have it! It was
+this A.M. Maimie McHugh was interviewing Mrs. Gerrard Pennington over
+the office 'phone in regard to a luncheon she is giving this week in
+honour of her niece. Said niece's name me-thinks was Bentley. You will
+see it all in the social notes later. Covers for twelve, decorations in
+pink, La France roses, place cards from somewhere." He paused to laugh.
+"Maimie was doing it up brown, but she lacks tact. What does she do but
+ask for Miss Bentley's picture for the Saturday edition! I tried to stop
+her, but it was too late. You should have heard the 'phone buzz. 'My
+niece's picture in the <i>Evening Record</i>!' 'I don't care, mean old
+thing,' says Maimie, when she hung up. 'Nicer people than she is do it,
+and are glad to. 'That's all right, my honey,' I told her, 'but there
+are nice people and nice people, and it's up to you to know the variety
+you are dealing with, unless you like to be snubbed.' Still," the
+Reporter added reflectively, "Mrs. Gerrard Pennington and little McHugh
+can't afford to quarrel. After the luncheon Mrs. G.P. will probably send
+Maimie a pair of long white gloves, and when their pristine freshness
+has departed, Maimie will wear them to the office a time or two."
+</p>
+<p>
+The Candy Man wished to know who Mrs. Gerrard Pennington was, anyway.
+</p>
+<p>
+"She, my ignorant friend, is a four-ply Colonial Dame, so to speak.
+Distinguished grandfathers to burn, and the dough to support them,
+unlike another friend of mine who possessed every qualification needed
+to become a C.D. except on the clothes line."
+</p>
+<p>
+"The joke," observed the Candy Man, "is old, but worth repeating. But did
+I understand you to say <i>another</i> friend? And am I to infer&mdash;&mdash;?"
+</p>
+<p>
+"You are far too keen for a Candy Man," said the Reporter, laughing.
+"Mrs. G.P. is friendly with the wealthy branch of our family. She
+regards my Cousin Augustus as a son. Now I think of it, your Miss
+Bentley cannot be her niece. She could scarcely fall out of a street
+car. A victoria or a limousine would be necessary in her case."
+</p>
+<p>
+The Candy Man did not see his way clear to disclaim proprietorship in
+Miss Bentley, so let it pass. Certainly, on other grounds his Miss
+Bentley, to call her so, could not be Mrs. Gerrard Pennington's niece.
+Not that she lacked the charm to grace any position however high, but
+her simplicity and friendliness, the fact that she walked in the country
+with a stoutish relative who was intimate with the family of the park
+superintendent, the marketing he had witnessed, all went to prove his
+point.
+</p>
+<p>
+Yet on the occasion of a fashionable noon wedding at the stone church
+near the Y.M.C.A. corner, all this impressive evidence was brought to
+naught. In the crush of machines and carriages the Candy Wagon was all
+but engulfed in high life. When the crowd surged out after the bridal
+party, the congestion for a few minutes baffled the efforts of the corps
+of police.
+</p>
+<p>
+The Candy Man, looking on with much amusement at the well-dressed
+throng, presently received a thrill at the sound of a clear young voice
+exclaiming, "Here is the car, Aunt Eleanor&mdash;over here."
+</p>
+<p>
+The haughtiest of limousines had taken up its station just beyond the
+Candy Wagon, and toward this the owner of the voice was piloting a
+majestic and breathless personage. If the Candy Man could have doubted
+his ears, he could not doubt his eyes. Here was the grace, the sparkle,
+the everything that made her his Miss Bentley, the Girl of All
+Others&mdash;except the grey suit. Now she wore velvet, and wonderful white
+plumes framed her face and touched her bright hair. No, there was no
+mistaking her. Reviewing the evidence he found it baffling. That absurd
+exclamation about lighthouses alone might be taken as indicating an
+unfamiliarity with the humbler walks of life.
+</p>
+<p>
+The Reporter was at this time in daily attendance upon a convention in
+progress in a neighbouring hall, and he rarely failed to stop at the
+carriage block and pass the time of day on his way to and fro.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Ah ha!" he exclaimed, on one of these occasions, after perusing in
+silence the first edition of the <i>Evening Record</i>; "I see my Cousin
+Augustus, on his return from New York, is to give a dinner dance in
+honour of Mrs. Gerrard Pennington's niece."
+</p>
+<p>
+"I appreciate your innocent pride in Cousin Augustus, but may I inquire
+if by chance he possesses another name?" The Candy Man spoke with
+uncalled-for asperity.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Sure," responded the Reporter, with a quizzical glance at his
+questioner; "several of 'em. Augustus Vincent McAllister is what he
+calls himself every day."
+</p>
+<a name="h2HCH0004" id="h2HCH0004"><!-- H2 anchor --></a>
+
+<div style="height: 4em;"><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>
+
+<h2>
+    CHAPTER FOUR
+</h2>
+<p class="ctitle">
+<i>In which the Candy Man again sees the Grey Suit, and Virginia
+continues the story of the Little Red Chimney.</i>
+</p>
+<p>
+It was Saturday afternoon, possibly the very next Saturday, or at most
+the Saturday after that, and the Candy Wagon was making money. The day
+of the week was unmistakable, for the working classes were getting home
+early; fathers of families with something extra for Sunday in paper bags
+under their arms. And the hat boxes! They passed the Candy Man's corner
+by the hundreds. Every feminine person in the big apartment houses must
+be intending to wear a new hat to-morrow.
+</p>
+<p>
+There was something special going on at the Country Club&mdash;the Candy Man
+had taken to reading the social column&mdash;and the people of leisure and
+semi-leisure were to be well represented there, to judge by the machines
+speeding up the avenue; among them quite probably Miss Bentley and Mr.
+Augustus McAllister.
+</p>
+<p>
+This not altogether pleasing reflection had scarcely taken shape in his
+mind, when, in the act of handing change to a customer, he beheld Miss
+Bentley coming toward him; without a doubt his Miss Bentley this time,
+for she wore the grey suit and the felt hat, jammed down any way on her
+bright hair and pinned with the pinkish quill. She was not alone. By
+her side walked a rather shabby, elderly man, with a rosy face, whose
+pockets bulged with newspapers, and who carried a large parcel. She was
+looking at him and he was looking at her, and they were both laughing.
+Comradeship of the most delightful kind was indicated.
+</p>
+<p>
+Without a glance in the direction of the Candy Wagon they passed. Well,
+at any rate she wasn't at the Country Club. But how queer!
+</p>
+<p>
+Earlier in the afternoon Virginia had gone by in dancing-school array,
+accompanied by an absurdly youthful mother. "I've got something to tell
+you," she called, and the Candy Man could see her being reproved for
+this unseemly familiarity.
+</p>
+<p>
+His curiosity was but mildly stirred; indeed, having other things to
+think of, he had quite forgotten the incident, when on Monday she
+presented herself swinging her school bag.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Say," she began, "I have found out about her Ladyship and the Little
+Red Chimney."
+</p>
+<p>
+"Oh, have you?" he answered vaguely.
+</p>
+<p>
+Virginia, resting her bag on the carriage block, looked disappointed.
+"I have been crazy to tell you, and now you don't care a bit."
+</p>
+<p>
+"Indeed I do," the Candy Man protested. "I'm a trifle absent-minded,
+that's all."
+</p>
+<p>
+Thus reassured she began: "Don't you know I told you I could see
+that chimney from our dining-room, and that I was going to watch it?
+Well, the other day at lunch I happened to look toward the window, and
+I jumped right out of my chair and clapped my hands and said, 'It's
+smoking, it's smoking!' There was company, and mother said, 'Good
+gracious, Virginia! what's smoking? You do make me so nervous!' Then
+I was sorry I'd said anything, because she wouldn't understand, you
+know. Well, after lunch I took one of Ted's balls, and went over to
+Uncle Bob's, and I got a little darkey boy to throw it in the yard, and
+then I went in to look for it. You see if Uncle Bob wasn't there and
+anybody asked me what I was doing, I could say I was looking for my
+brother's ball."
+</p>
+<p>
+"I fear you are a deep one," remarked the Candy Man.
+</p>
+<p>
+"No, I'm not, but I'm rather good at thinking of things," Virginia owned
+complacently. "And then," she continued, "I poked around the rose bush,
+and peeped in at the window, and sure enough she was there, brushing the
+hearth. She saw me and came to the window, and when I ran away, 'cause
+I thought maybe she was mad, she rapped, and then opened the window and
+called: 'Come in, little girl, and talk to me.' And now who do you think
+she turned out to be?"
+</p>
+<p>
+A suspicion had been deepening in the Candy Man's breast for the last
+few moments. His heart actually thumped. "Not&mdash;you don't mean&mdash;&mdash;?"
+</p>
+<p>
+Virginia nodded violently. "Yes, the lady who fell and got muddy. And
+she's perfectly lovely, and I'm going there again. She asked me to."
+</p>
+<p>
+Why, oh, why should such luck fall to the lot of a long-legged,
+freckle-nosed little girl, and not to him, the Candy Man wondered.
+He burned to ask innumerable questions, but compromised on one. Did
+Virginia know whether or not she had come to stay?
+</p>
+<p>
+"Why, I guess so. She didn't have her hat on, and she was cleaning
+up&mdash;dusting, you know, and taking things out of a box."
+</p>
+<p>
+"What sort of things?"
+</p>
+<p>
+"Books and sofa pillows and pictures. I helped her, and by and by Uncle
+Bob came in."
+</p>
+<p>
+"And what did he say?" asked the Candy Man, just to keep her going.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Why, he said, didn't he tell me so? And wasn't it great to have her
+ladyship there?"
+</p>
+<p>
+"And what did her ladyship say?"
+</p>
+<p>
+"She said he was a dear, and I forget what else. Oh, but listen! I'll
+bet you can't guess what her name is."
+</p>
+<p>
+He couldn't. He had racked his brain for a name at once sweet enough and
+possessing sufficient dignity. He had not found it for the good reason
+that no such name has been invented.
+</p>
+<p>
+"It's a long name," said Virginia, "as long as mine. I am named for
+my grandmother, Mary Virginia, but they don't call me all of it." She
+paused to watch two white-plumed masons on their way to the commandery
+on the next block.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Well?" said the Candy Man.
+</p>
+<p>
+She laughed. "Oh, I forgot. Why, it is Margaret Elizabeth. The doctor
+came in; she's a lady doctor, you know, and said, 'Margaret Elizabeth,
+there'll be muffins for tea.' And she said, 'All right. Dr. Prue.' And
+Dr. Prue said, 'And cherry preserves, if you and Uncle Bob want them,'
+and Margaret Elizabeth said, 'Goody!' And I must go now," Virginia
+finished. "There's Betty looking for me."
+</p>
+<p>
+Virginia might go and welcome. He had enough to occupy his thought for
+the present. Margaret Elizabeth! Such a name would never have suggested
+itself to him, yet it suited her. Beneath her young gaiety and charm
+there was something the name fitted. Margaret Elizabeth! He loved it
+already.
+</p>
+<p>
+Why had he not guessed that the Little Red Chimney belonged to her?
+Had not the sight of it stirred his heart? And why should that have been
+so, except for some subtle fairy godmother suggestion? The picture of
+Margaret Elizabeth and Uncle Bob eating cherry preserves was a pleasant
+one. It brought her nearer. The Candy Man was inclined to like Uncle
+Bob, to think of him as a broad-minded person whose prejudices against
+Candy Men, granting he had them, might in time be overcome.
+</p>
+<p>
+From being a bit low in his mind, the Candy Man's mood became positively
+jovial. When the sad grey man known to the children as the Miser, and
+invested with mysterious and awful powers, stopped to buy some hoarhound
+drops, he wished him a cheery good afternoon.
+</p>
+<p>
+The Miser was evidently surprised, but responded courteously, and
+recalling the accident of two weeks ago, asked if the Candy Man had
+heard anything of the injured chauffeur.
+</p>
+<p>
+It chanced that he had heard the Reporter say, only yesterday, that the
+man was doing well and likely to recover.
+</p>
+<p>
+"And the young lady? I think I saw her the other day going into a house
+across the street from my own."
+</p>
+<p>
+"The house with the Little Red Chimney?" asked the Candy Man
+indiscreetly, forgetting himself for the moment.
+</p>
+<p>
+A smile slowly dawned on the face of the sad man, but quickly faded, as
+a flock of naughty pigeons tore by, screaming, "Lizer, Lizer, look out
+for the Miser!" If he had been about to make a comment, he thought
+better of it, and turned away.
+</p>
+<p>
+Having identified the Little Red Chimney as the property of the Girl
+of All Others, the Candy Man now made a new discovery. He had a room
+in one of the old residences of the neighbourhood, so many of which in
+these days were being given over to boarding and lodging. Its windows
+overlooked a back yard, in which grew a great ash, and he had been
+interested to observe how long after other trees were bare this one kept
+its foliage. He found it one morning, however, giving up its leaves by
+the wholesale, under the touch of a sharp frost; and, wonder of wonders!
+through its bared branches that magical chimney came into view, with a
+corner of grey roof.
+</p>
+<p>
+Not far away rose the big smoke stack belonging to the apartment houses,
+impressive in its loftiness, but to his fancy the Little Red Chimney
+held its own with dignity, standing for something unattainable by great
+smoke stacks, however important.
+</p>
+<p>
+The Candy Man, it will be seen, did not attempt to reconcile conflicting
+evidence. He took what suited him and ignored the rest. Was Miss Bentley
+the niece of Mrs. Gerrard Pennington? She was also the niece of Uncle
+Bob. Did she ride in haughty limousines? She also rode in street cars.
+Was she wined and dined by the rich? She also ate muffins and cherry
+preserves, and brushed up the hearth of the Little Red Chimney.
+</p>
+<a name="h2HCH0005" id="h2HCH0005"><!-- H2 anchor --></a>
+
+<div style="height: 4em;"><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>
+
+<h2>
+    CHAPTER FIVE
+</h2>
+<p class="ctitle">
+<i>In which the double life led by the heroine is explained, and
+Augustus McAllister proves an alibi.</i>
+</p>
+<p>
+"Yes," said Miss Bentley, "I liked him. He turned out to be altogether
+different from my first impressions. That afternoon at the Country
+Club he seemed rather stiff&mdash;nice, assured manners, of course, but
+unresponsive. But then the way in which we bounced in upon each other
+was enough to break any amount of ice." She laughed at the recollection,
+clasping her hands behind her head.
+</p>
+<p>
+Instead of the little grey hat jammed down anyhow, she wore this morning
+the most bewitching and frivolous of boudoir caps upon her bright head,
+and a shimmery, lacy empire something, that clung caressingly about her,
+and fell back becomingly from her round white arms. Miles and miles away
+from the Candy Wagon was Margaret Elizabeth, who had so recently
+hobnobbed down the avenue with Uncle Bob.
+</p>
+<p>
+Mrs. Gerrard Pennington, in a similar garb, leaned an elbow on her desk,
+a dainty French trifle, and gazed, perhaps a bit wistfully, at Margaret
+Elizabeth's endearing young charms. "I am delighted that you like
+Augustus. He is a young man of sterling qualities. His mother and I were
+warm friends; I take a deep interest in him. Of course he is not showy;
+perhaps he might be called a little slow; but he is substantial, and
+while I should be the last to place an undue emphasis upon wealth, one
+need not overlook its advantages. Augustus has had unusual
+opportunities."
+</p>
+<p>
+"Is Mr. McAllister rich?" Margaret Elizabeth dropped her arms in a
+surprise which in its turn stirred a like emotion in her aunt's breast,
+for Miss Bentley put rather a peculiar emphasis, it would seem, upon the
+word rich. "I should never have guessed it," she added.
+</p>
+<p>
+If Mrs. Pennington had been perfectly honest with herself, she would
+have perceived that her own surprise indicated a suspicion that minus
+his wealth the aforesaid sterling qualities were something of a dead
+weight, but not for worlds would she have owned this. It would be a
+great thing for Margaret Elizabeth, if she liked him. If she could be
+the means of establishing dear old Richard's child in a position such
+as the future Mrs. Augustus would occupy, she would feel she had done
+her full duty. Mrs. Pennington was strong in the matter of duty.
+</p>
+<p>
+"I should never have guessed it," Margaret Elizabeth repeated, after a
+minute spent in a quick review of that talk in the summer house.
+</p>
+<p>
+"It is not always possible, surely, to gauge a person's bank account in
+the course of one conversation," her aunt suggested.
+</p>
+<p>
+"I don't mean that; but don't you think, Aunt Eleanor, you can usually
+tell very rich people? They are apt to be limited, in a way. Not always,
+of course, but often. I can't explain it exactly. Perhaps it is
+over-refined."
+</p>
+<p>
+"If to be refined is to be limited, I prefer to be limited," Mrs.
+Pennington remarked.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was plain that unless Margaret Elizabeth went to the length of
+retailing the whole of that Sunday morning conversation, which was out
+of the question, she could not hope to make her meaning clear.
+</p>
+<p>
+"What surprises me," her aunt went on, "is that you should have met
+Augustus in a public park. It is very unlike him. I wonder what he
+thought of you?"
+</p>
+<p>
+This brought out Miss Bentley's dimples, as she owned he had seemed not
+displeased to meet her. "I explained that I was waiting for Dr. Prue,
+who had gone in to see one of the superintendent's children." She
+further assured her aunt that River Bend Park was a delightful place in
+which to enjoy nature, on Sunday morning or any other time.
+</p>
+<p>
+"I confess I do not choose a public park when I wish to enjoy
+nature&mdash;except for driving, of course. Perhaps," added Mrs. Pennington,
+"that is what you call over-refined."
+</p>
+<p>
+Margaret Elizabeth considered this thoughtfully. "Perhaps it is," she
+said. "Not being able to enjoy things that are free to everybody."
+</p>
+<p>
+But Margaret Elizabeth in that frivolously-becoming cap was an antidote
+to her own remarks. Mrs. Pennington smiled indulgently. Richard's
+daughter came honestly by some eccentricities, not to mention those
+Vandegrifts, whose influence she greatly deplored.
+</p>
+<p>
+"You will outgrow these socialistic ideas, my dear," she said. "But
+I am still puzzled, the more I think of it, at your meeting Augustus on
+Sunday morning. Was it two weeks ago? I am under the impression he left
+for New York that very day."
+</p>
+<p>
+"He didn't mention it, but there are afternoon trains," answered
+Margaret Elizabeth. "He merely said something about a sick boy he was
+going to see at St. Mary's."
+</p>
+<p>
+This again was very unlike Augustus, but Mrs. Pennington said no more.
+Meanwhile the faintest shadow of a doubt was dawning in her niece's
+mind; so shadowy she was scarcely aware of it, until, glowing from her
+walk across the park, she entered the drawing-room that afternoon.
+</p>
+<p>
+There is, by the way, a difference between walking in Sunset Park, the
+abode of the elect, with a huge St. Bernard in leash, and taking the
+same exercise at River Bend, unchaperoned save by a chance guard. Any
+right-minded person must see this.
+</p>
+<p>
+A young man, who sat talking to Mrs. Gerrard Pennington before the fire,
+rose at her entrance.
+</p>
+<p>
+"I am glad you have come, Margaret Elizabeth," her aunt exclaimed.
+"I think you know Mr. McAllister? But we have rather a good joke on
+you, for August says he was never in his life in River Bend Park."
+</p>
+<p>
+"How do you do, Miss Bentley. Awfully glad to see you. That is, except
+to motor through, don't you know, Mrs. Pennington."
+</p>
+<p>
+Miss Bentley's brown eyes met Mr. McAllister's blue ones, and in the
+period of one brief glance she experienced almost as many sensations,
+and reviewed as much past history, as the proverbial drowning man.
+The casual resemblance was striking. But the eyes&mdash;these were not the
+friendly, merry eyes to which she had confided the fairy godmother
+nonsense. Fancy so much as mentioning fairy godmothers in the presence
+of these steely orbs.
+</p>
+<p>
+Margaret Elizabeth was game, however.
+</p>
+<p>
+"I was mistaken, of course," she owned lightly, as she shook hands.
+"I have met so many people, and am stupid at connecting names and faces.
+I recall Mr. McAllister perfectly." And straightway she plunged into
+New York and what was going on there. Had he seen "Grumpy" and wasn't it
+dear? And so on, and so on. Margaret Elizabeth could talk, and more than
+this she could look bewitching, and did, when she slipped out of her
+long coat, and with many graceful upward motions, removed her hat and
+fluffed her hair.
+</p>
+<p>
+She would make tea, she loved to, in fact she seemed bent upon luring
+Augustus away from the fire and Mrs. Pennington. This young gentleman,
+whose mental processes were not rapid, and who habitually overworked any
+idea that found lodgment in his mind, was disposed to dwell upon River
+Bend Park and Miss Bentley's strange mistake in thinking she had seen
+him there, when actually, don't you know, he was on his way to New York.
+It was just as well not to have the situation complicated by the
+presence of her more alert relative, whose amused glances kept the glow
+on Margaret Elizabeth's cheek at a most becoming pitch. Perhaps, too,
+the subconscious thinking concerning that same queer mistake, which went
+on while she chatted so gaily, so skilfully leading the way to safer
+ground, had something to do with it.
+</p>
+<p>
+Augustus, unaware that he was led, was as clay in her hands. He warmed
+to her expressions of pleasure in the proposed dinner dance, which were
+indeed entirely genuine. A dance was a dance, and Miss Bentley was
+young. As she poured tea her curling lashes rested now on her cheek,
+were now lifted in smiling glances at the complacent Augustus, much as
+when on a certain Sunday morning, while softly laying bloom against
+bloom, her eyes had now and again met the eyes of the Candy Man. There
+were other callers, other tea drinkers, but to none did Mr. McAllister
+surrender his place of vantage.
+</p>
+<p>
+"If she keeps on like this, Augustus is hers&mdash;if she wants him,"
+Mr. Gerrard Pennington remarked to his wife later in the evening.
+</p>
+<p>
+"If I could have her all to myself," Mrs. Pennington sighed; "but any
+impression I may make is neutralised by her association with those
+Vandegrifts. It is an absurd arrangement, spending half her time down
+there."
+</p>
+<p>
+"I think you are rather in the lead, aren't you, my dear?"
+</p>
+<p>
+Mrs. Pennington shrugged her shoulders, but there was some triumph in
+her smile. "She is a dear child, in spite of some absurd notions, and
+I long to see her well and safely settled. I don't quite know in what
+her charm most lies, but she has it."
+</p>
+<p>
+"Oh, it's her youth, and the conviction that it is all so jolly well
+worth while. She is so keen about everything." There was an odd twinkle
+in Mr. Pennington's eyes, usually so piercing beneath their bushy grey
+brows. Margaret Elizabeth called him Uncle Gerry. It was amusing. He
+liked it, and enjoyed playing the part of Uncle Gerry. "Of course she's
+bound to get over that. Still, I shouldn't be in any haste to settle
+her."
+</p>
+<p>
+His wife thought of her brother, the Professor of Archćology, now in
+the Far East. "It is queer, but Dick never has," she said, answering
+the first part of his sentence. But when she spoke again, it was to
+say energetically: "The Towers needs a mistress, and August is
+irreproachable. Really, I am devoted to the boy."
+</p>
+<p>
+Mr. Pennington found this amusing.
+</p>
+<p>
+"If only it were a colonial house. It is handsome, but I prefer simpler
+lines," Mrs. Pennington continued meditatively.
+</p>
+<p>
+The Towers was a combination of feudal castle and Swiss châlet erected
+thirty years before by the parents of Augustus, and occupying a
+commanding position on Sunset Ridge. The irreverent sometimes referred
+to it as the Salt Shakers.
+</p>
+<p>
+Margaret Elizabeth meanwhile, in the solitude of her own room, was
+asking herself questions, for which she found no answers.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Who&mdash;oh, who was this person with the nice friendly eyes that led one
+on to talk about fairy godmothers?"
+</p>
+<p>
+She considered it in profound seriousness for a time, then suddenly
+broke into unrestrained laughter.
+</p>
+<a name="h2HCH0006" id="h2HCH0006"><!-- H2 anchor --></a>
+
+<div style="height: 4em;"><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>
+
+<h2>
+    CHAPTER SIX
+</h2>
+<p class="ctitle">
+<i>In which Margaret Elizabeth is discussed at the Breakfast Table; in
+which also, later on, she and Virginia and Uncle Bob talk before the
+fire, and in which finally Margaret Elizabeth seeks consolation by
+relating to Uncle Bob her adventure in the park.</i>
+</p>
+<p>
+"No, she is not regularly beautiful," remarked Dr. Prue in her
+diagnostician manner as she poured her father's second cup of coffee,
+"but there is much that is captivating about her. Her hair grows
+prettily on her forehead, the firmness of her chin, the line of her lips
+in repose&mdash;&mdash;"
+</p>
+<p>
+"Mercy on us! You talk like a novel," interrupted Uncle Bob, who was
+longing to get in an oar. "Now I like her best when she laughs."
+</p>
+<p>
+"But I was speaking of her face in repose."
+</p>
+<p>
+"And any way," persisted Uncle Bob, "if she isn't a beauty, I don't know
+what you call it. She has the witchingest ways!"
+</p>
+<p>
+"We were speaking of features, not ways. If you dissect her&mdash;&mdash;"
+</p>
+<p>
+"Good Heavens, Prue! Find another word."
+</p>
+<p>
+"If you dissect her," the doctor repeated firmly, "you will find nothing
+remarkable in her separate features."
+</p>
+<p>
+"But I insist," Uncle Bob spoke in a loud tone, and brought his fist
+down so emphatically his coffee spilled over into the saucer, "that
+beauty is a complex thing consisting of ways as well as features."
+The sentence was concluded in a milder tone, owing to the coffee.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Nancy, give Mr. Vandegrift another saucer," said Dr. Prue.
+</p>
+<p>
+"My dear, there is no need. I can pour this back," he protested. Then, a
+fresh saucer having been substituted, he went on: "Take a landscape&mdash;&mdash;"
+</p>
+<p>
+"I haven't time for landscapes this morning, father. I am due at the
+hospital at nine. You'll have to excuse me."
+</p>
+<p>
+"Well, what I was going to say is, that it is the combination of all
+her separate qualities and characteristics, manifested in ways and
+otherwise, that is beautiful&mdash;that constitutes beauty. The something
+that makes her Margaret Elizabeth, that subtle&mdash;" Uncle Bob was talking
+against time.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Now, father," Dr. Prue pushed back her chair and rose, "there is
+nothing subtle about Margaret Elizabeth, and you know it. She is a
+thoroughly nice, quite pretty girl, and that is all there is to it. If
+those Penningtons don't spoil her." With this the doctor disappeared.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Miss Prue and her pa do argufy to beat the band," Nancy remarked to
+Jenny the cook as she waited for hot cakes.
+</p>
+<p>
+"That's all, Nancy. I shan't want any more," her master told her when
+she carried them into the dining-room. "You needn't wait." As the door
+closed behind her he smiled to himself. He always enjoyed the leisurely
+comfort of those last cakes.
+</p>
+<p>
+The morning sun shone in brightly, emphasising the pleasant, substantial
+appointments of the room and the breakfast table. Its glint in the old
+silver coffee pot was a joy to him; the unopened paper at his elbow
+spoke to him of the interests of a day, like it, not yet unfolded. Uncle
+Bob after his own fashion savoured life....
+</p>
+<a name="image-0004"><!--IMG--></a>
+<center>
+<img src="images/ill-04.png" width="425" height="720" alt="Dr. Prue" />
+<br /><span style="font-variant: small-caps;">Dr. Prue</span>
+</center>
+
+<p>
+The sun had travelled around the house and was looking in at the west
+window of the Little Red Chimney Room, when Virginia discovered her
+ladyship sitting on a low stool by her hearthstone deep in meditation.
+"I saw the smoke," she announced, "so I thought I'd come over."
+</p>
+<p>
+"I am glad to see you," Margaret Elizabeth said, waking up. "But what
+smoke do you mean?" And now it developed that although Miss Bentley was
+of course aware of the Little Red Chimney, and indeed preferred it red,
+she had not understood its significance.
+</p>
+<p>
+In amused interest she listened while Virginia explained. "That dear,
+ridiculous Uncle Bob!" she cried, hugging her knees. "And what fun,
+Virginia!"
+</p>
+<p>
+Virginia nodded. "Like a fairy-tale," she said.
+</p>
+<p>
+"So it is," Miss Bentley agreed, and became again lost in thought.
+</p>
+<p>
+From the other side of the hearth Virginia watched her. Her ladyship
+to-day wore a grey-blue gown with a broad white collar, and she
+contrasted harmoniously with the soft browns and greens of her
+surroundings. Uncle Bob should have been there to enjoy the glint of
+the sunshine in her hair.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was an unobtrusive room, abounding in pleasant suggestions if you sat
+still and let them sink in: books around the walls, a few water colours
+and bits of porcelain, an open piano, a work table, a broad divan with
+many cushions, ferns in the windows, and the fire.
+</p>
+<p>
+Virginia, however, saw nothing of this; she was looking at Margaret
+Elizabeth. "The Candy Man wanted to know where you stayed when you
+weren't here," she remarked at length.
+</p>
+<p>
+Miss Bentley came out of her brown study in great surprise. Who in the
+world was the Candy Man?
+</p>
+<p>
+"Why, you know the Candy Wagon on the Y.M.C.A. corner! And don't you
+remember how you fell in the mud, and the Candy Man helped you up, and
+I gave you your bag, and the Miser was there too?" Virginia spoke in
+patient toleration of Miss Bentley's strange lapse of memory.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Naturally I was rather shaken and didn't notice. Was it a Candy Man who
+picked me up? And a miser, you say?" Chin in hand Margaret Elizabeth
+regarded her visitor. "It is all very interesting, but why should the
+Candy Man wish to know about me?"
+</p>
+<p>
+Virginia owned that she had mentioned the Little Red Chimney to him,
+and that when the identity of her ladyship had come to light, he had
+exclaimed, "I might have guessed!"
+</p>
+<p>
+"Well, really," said Miss Bentley, sitting up very straight, "what
+business is it of his to be guessing about me?"
+</p>
+<p>
+"He isn't Irish like Tim," Virginia hastened to assure her. "He's very
+nice. He's a friend of mine."
+</p>
+<p>
+Margaret Elizabeth laughed. "That makes it all right, I suppose; and if
+he picked me up&mdash;But who is the Miser?"
+</p>
+<p>
+"He lives over there," Virginia pointed toward the front window, "in
+that stone house with the vine on it. Aleck says he has rooms and rooms
+full of money."
+</p>
+<p>
+The house she indicated was almost black with time and soot, but its
+fine proportions suggested spacious, high-ceiled rooms, and whatever its
+present condition, a past of dignity and importance.
+</p>
+<p>
+"How extremely interesting! What a remarkable neighbourhood this seems
+to be!"
+</p>
+<p>
+"Is it like a fairy-tale where you stay when you aren't here?" Virginia
+asked.
+</p>
+<p>
+Sudden illumination came to Margaret Elizabeth. "That is just what it
+isn't," she cried. "It's splendid and beautiful, and all sorts of
+things, except a fairy-tale. I wonder why? I love fairy-tales and Little
+Red Chimneys."
+</p>
+<p>
+"So does the Candy Man," exclaimed Virginia, charmed at the coincidence.
+"It must be fun to be a Candy Man," she continued. "It isn't much like
+a fairy-tale where I live. I should like to live in a sure-enough house
+with stairs."
+</p>
+<p>
+"You talk like a squirrel who lives in a tree. And speaking of squirrels,
+you and I must buy some nuts for our bunny sometime, from this Candy
+Man. If he picked me up I suppose I ought to patronise him. All the
+same, Virginia," and now Miss Bentley spoke with great seriousness,
+"I wish you not to say anything about me to him. It is rather silly,
+you know."
+</p>
+<p>
+Virginia did not know, but she longed to do in every particular what
+Miss Bentley desired, so she promised.
+</p>
+<p>
+The opal lights in the western sky were the only reminders left of the
+sunny day, when Uncle Bob, seated comfortably in the big armchair,
+listened to Margaret Elizabeth's confession, the flames dancing and
+curling around a fresh log meanwhile. In size it was but a modest log,
+for the fireplace was neither wide nor deep like those at Pennington
+Park, but the Little Red Chimney did its part so merrily and well that
+upon no other hearth could the flames dance and curl so gaily. At least
+so it had seemed to Margaret Elizabeth, sitting there chin in hand,
+after Virginia's departure.
+</p>
+<p>
+"And you are certain you never met him before?" Uncle Bob ran his
+fingers through his hair and frowned thoughtfully.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Perfectly certain. You see the resemblance was remarkable, all but
+the eyes, and I thought Mr. McAllister had simply waked up. People
+are sometimes stiff when you first meet them. He knew who I was, for
+he called me Miss Bentley. Naturally I thought it was some one I had
+met&mdash;particularly when he mentioned the accident. You see, in getting
+out of the machine at the Country Club a day or two before I caught
+my skirt in the door and fell, striking my elbow. It didn't amount to
+anything, though it hurt for a minute, but Aunt Eleanor made a great
+fuss. He may have been somewhere about at the time, but I didn't meet
+him. And it makes me furious," Margaret Elizabeth continued, "when
+I think of his not telling me."
+</p>
+<p>
+"Telling you that you didn't know him?" asked Uncle Bob.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Certainly, he should have said at the very beginning, 'Miss Bentley,
+you are mistaken in thinking you know me.'"
+</p>
+<p>
+"Ha! ha!" laughed Uncle Bob.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Now what are you laughing at?" his niece demanded. "Honestly, don't you
+think he should have?" But she laughed herself.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Well, perhaps," he owned, reflecting, however, that if Margaret
+Elizabeth looked half so alluring that morning as she did now in her
+grey-blue frock, with her bright hair a bit tumbled, it was asking a
+good deal of human nature.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Now, of course, Uncle Bob, this is strictly confidential. I wouldn't
+have Dr. Prue know for the world. It is bad enough to have Aunt Eleanor
+smiling sarcastically, though she doesn't know half. I think I have at
+length quieted her, and the great Augustus is entirely mollified." She
+paused to laugh again, then continued tragically, "Sympathy is what I
+need now. To begin with, it was the most perfect day&mdash;the sort to make
+you forget tiresome conventions."
+</p>
+<p>
+Uncle Bob nodded. "Perhaps he forgot, too," he suggested.
+</p>
+<p>
+Margaret Elizabeth bit her lip. "That's true. I must try to be fair.
+He had nice eyes, Uncle Bob&mdash;with a twinkle in them." A smile played
+over her lips, her dimple came and went. She gazed absently at the
+curling flame. Suddenly she rose from her ottoman, and seated herself
+bolt upright on the sofa with one of the plumpest cushions behind her.
+"All the same it was inexcusable in me," she declared sternly.
+</p>
+<p>
+"What was?" asked her uncle.
+</p>
+<p>
+"The nonsense I talked. About a Fairy Godmother Society! No doubt he was
+laughing in his sleeve all the time."
+</p>
+<p>
+"Oh, I guess not. It sounds quite original and interesting. Have you
+copyrighted the idea?"
+</p>
+<p>
+"Uncle Bob, you are a dear. Some time I'll tell you all about it&mdash;when
+I get over feeling so terribly, if I ever do."
+</p>
+<p>
+"Now, really," insisted Uncle Bob, "I don't see why you should worry.
+You are almost certain to meet him again, and&mdash;&mdash;"
+</p>
+<p>
+"I shall die if I do," Margaret Elizabeth declared; but somehow the
+assertion failed to ring true.
+</p>
+<p>
+"From what you have said he is plainly a gentleman, and altogether
+matters might be worse," Uncle Bob concluded.
+</p>
+<p>
+Miss Bentley shook her head. "I don't see how they could be," she
+insisted.
+</p>
+<a name="h2HCH0007" id="h2HCH0007"><!-- H2 anchor --></a>
+
+<div style="height: 4em;"><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>
+
+<h2>
+    CHAPTER SEVEN
+</h2>
+<p class="ctitle">
+<i>Shows how the Candy Wagon is visited in behalf of the Squirrel, and
+how pride suffers a fall; how Miss Bentley turns to Vedantic Philosophy
+to drown her annoyance, and discovers how hard it is to forget when you
+wish to.</i>
+</p>
+<p>
+"When I reflect upon the small weight attaching to true worth
+unsupported by personal charm, I am tempted to turn cynic."
+</p>
+<p>
+Dr. Prue closed her bag with a snap and lifted her arms to adjust a
+hatpin.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Youth and beauty take the trick, that's a fact." Uncle Bob laughed as
+if he found it a delicious comedy.
+</p>
+<p>
+They stood before the office window. At the gate the Apartment Pigeons
+were fluttering around Margaret Elizabeth, while her ladyship gravely
+admonished them for some piece of mischief.
+</p>
+<p>
+"I believe she is taming the terrors," remarked the doctor.
+</p>
+<p>
+"She had them all in the other afternoon," said Uncle Bob, "sitting
+cross-legged on the floor like little Orientals, while she told them
+stories. Margaret Elizabeth can manage them!" His tone thrilled with
+pride.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Yes, and Miss Kitty Molloy will drop anything she has on hand to work
+for Miss Bentley; the market-man picks out his choicest fruit for her;
+and so it goes, if you call it managing. Well, I must be off. Good-by."
+</p>
+<p>
+As Dr. Prue went out, Margaret Elizabeth, having dismissed the pigeons
+for the time being, came in, and sat down at her desk to finish a
+letter.
+</p>
+<p>
+She wrote: "Yes, Uncle Bob and Cousin Prue argue as much as ever, and
+I suspect that more often than not I am the subject upon which they
+disagree. I am in a state of disagreement about myself, father dear.
+Society is absorbing beyond anything I dreamed of, and if I had not
+promised you to stop and think for at least ten minutes out of the
+fourteen hundred and forty, I fear I should have already become a real
+Society Person."
+</p>
+<p>
+At this point Uncle Bob looked in. "Well, how many parties on hand now?"
+he asked.
+</p>
+<p>
+Margaret Elizabeth laid down her pen and counted them off on her
+fingers, beginning with a tea at five, theatre and supper afterward, and
+so on, till the supply of fingers threatened to become exhausted.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Go on, I'll lend you mine," said Uncle Bob. "Prue says," he added,
+"that it is enough to kill you, but you look pretty strong."
+</p>
+<p>
+"She wouldn't mind if I worked my fingers to the bone for her hospital
+or the Suffrage Association, but I want a little fun first, Uncle Bob."
+Margaret Elizabeth supported an adorable chin in a pink palm and
+regarded her relative appealingly.
+</p>
+<p>
+"That's what I tell Prue. It is natural you should like best to stay at
+Pennington Park, and go about in a splendid machine. I don't blame you
+in the least, and I don't wish you to feel bound to come down here when
+you don't really care to. Much as I love to have you, I shall not be
+hurt." Uncle Bob nodded at Margaret Elizabeth with a reassuring smile
+that in spite of intentions was a bit wistful too.
+</p>
+<p>
+"I don't believe you understand, and for that matter, neither do I. I
+love you best, and the Little Red Chimney, and this darling room. There
+aren't any fairies at Pennington Park, but&mdash;I do like the whirl, the
+fun, the pretty things, and&mdash;&mdash;"
+</p>
+<p>
+"The admiration, Margaret Elizabeth; out with it. You'll feel better,"
+said Uncle Bob.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Well, yes, people <i>do</i> like me, and oh, I must show you
+something!" She sprang up, and from a box lying on the sofa she took a
+filmy, rose-coloured fabric. "What do you think of this?" she demanded,
+shaking out the shimmering folds before his surprised eyes.
+</p>
+<p>
+He rose nobly to the occasion. "Why, it looks like a sunset cloud. Is it
+to wear?"
+</p>
+<p>
+"Certainly. It is a pattern robe. Miss Kitty across the street is going
+to put it together for me. She is a genius. Sunset cloud is very poetic.
+Thank you, Uncle Bob. And now I must finish my letter before I go over
+to Miss Kitty's, and then I promised the children I'd go with them to
+buy some nuts for the squirrel. A bunny who has the courage to live so
+far downtown should be rewarded. I wish you had been here, Uncle Bob, to
+join our society." Margaret Elizabeth sat down with the rosy cloud all
+about her, and laughed at the recollection. "Never again will they throw
+a stone at his bunnyship. We laid our hands together so, and swore by
+the paw of the cinnamon bear and the ear of the tailless cat, to take
+the part of our brother beasts and birds. It was all on the spur of the
+moment, or I might have done better, but they were impressed."
+</p>
+<a name="image-0005"><!--IMG--></a>
+<center>
+<img src="images/ill-05.png" width="451" height="723" alt="Uncle Bob" />
+<br /><span style="font-variant: small-caps;">Uncle Bob</span>
+</center>
+
+<p>
+"I should think so, indeed," remarked her uncle. "You are a sort of
+philanthropist after all."
+</p>
+<p>
+"Yes, I have a very marked bump. That reminds me, if I don't see Dr.
+Prue, you tell her, please, that I am going to take Augustus McAllister
+to the Suffrage meeting."
+</p>
+<p>
+Having returned her robe to its box, Miss Bentley sat down at her desk
+and wrote furiously for five minutes, then folded her letter, put it
+in the envelope, and addressed, stamped, and sealed it, concluding the
+business with a resolute fist. Shortly after, in the familiar grey suit,
+with the little grey hat jammed down anyhow on her bright hair, she went
+forth, the box containing the sunset cloud under her arm.
+</p>
+<p>
+Homage and admiration attended upon her within Miss Kitty's humble
+establishment, and waited outside in the persons of the adoring pigeons.
+Virginia, having been unable to keep the story of the Little Red Chimney
+to herself, must now in consequence share her ladyship with the flock.
+But certain privileges were hers&mdash;to walk next to Miss Bentley and clasp
+her disengaged hand; to carry her bag or book; to act as her prime
+minister in keeping order.
+</p>
+<p>
+Thus Miss Bentley went her triumphant way that afternoon, all
+unconscious that there was any triumph about it. Not that she was wholly
+unaware of her own charm. As she confessed to Uncle Bob, she knew people
+liked her, and the knowledge was pleasing. She was now on her way to be
+gracious to the Candy Man, and in this connection she had rehearsed a
+neat little scene in which she stood by and allowed the children to make
+their purchases, and then at the right moment asked easily if there had
+been any more accidents on the corner of late, adding something about
+his kindness in helping her up, and so on. The Candy Man would of course
+touch his cap, for from Virginia's account he was rather a nice Candy
+Man, and reply, "Not at all, Miss," or "That's all right"; then she
+would smile upon him and the incident would be closed.
+</p>
+<p>
+The first half of the scene went off perfectly. The Candy Man was
+selling taffy to a nurse-maid when they approached, and if he saw who
+was coming, and if his heart was in his mouth, and if he felt a wild
+longing to escape from the Candy Wagon, he gave no sign. To Margaret
+Elizabeth, as they waited, he was a Candy Man in white jacket and cap,
+and nothing more.
+</p>
+<p>
+The pigeons fluttered joyously. Miss Bentley uttered an impersonal good
+afternoon, Virginia advanced, a silver quarter in her palm, and demanded
+chestnuts for the squirrel. The bag was filled and held out to her, and
+as she handed over the quarter in exchange she explained, gratuitously,
+"We'll perhaps eat <i>some</i> of them ourselves."
+</p>
+<p>
+At this the Candy Man looked up with a smile in his eyes, and met the
+glance of Miss Bentley, who immediately forgot all she had intended to
+say, for these were the eyes that were not the eyes of Augustus. There
+was no excuse for arguing the question. She knew it.
+</p>
+<p>
+The point was, after all, Margaret Elizabeth concluded in the solitude
+of her own hearth-stone, not whether she had been equal to the occasion
+to-day&mdash;and she hadn't&mdash;but that he on a former occasion had been guilty
+of base behaviour. If this were a real Candy Man, one might excuse him,
+but he plainly was not. There was a mystery, and she loathed mysteries.
+She was annoyed to the point of exasperation. She would dismiss him from
+her mind now and forever.
+</p>
+<p>
+Uncle Bob, reading the evening paper in the dining-room while Nancy set
+the table, admitting as she passed back and forth an occasional savoury
+odor from the kitchen region, became aware of sounds in the hall which
+betokened some one descending the stairs in haste. The next moment
+Margaret Elizabeth stood in the doorway.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Uncle Bob," she said, as she drew a long white glove over her elbow,
+her face shadowed by her plumy hat, "you remember you said it might be
+worse, and I insisted it couldn't be? You were right, it is infinitely
+worse."
+</p>
+<p>
+With this she was gone, and a premonitory buzz of great dignity and
+reserve from the street presently indicated that she was being borne
+away in the Pennington car.
+</p>
+<p>
+And now it was that Miss Bentley discovered how impossible it is to
+forget when you wish to. You may assist a treacherous memory with a
+memorandum, but no corresponding resource offers when you wish to
+forget. You may succeed in diverting your thoughts for a time, but
+sooner or later, ten to one, in the most illogical manner, the very
+thing you seek to avoid forces itself upon your attention. What could
+have seemed further away from the Candy Man than ancient Hindoo
+Philosophy? And into this she plunged to drown her annoyance, and
+incidentally help a fellow member of the Tuesday Club. Margaret
+Elizabeth was ever ready to fill in a breach, and when Miss Allen came
+to her in despair, having been positively forbidden to use her eyes,
+she obligingly agreed to help her.
+</p>
+<p>
+The subject grew, as all subjects have a way of doing. It was a
+providential ordering, Uncle Bob remarked, enabling the writers of
+papers to take refuge from criticism in the impressive statement that
+it is impossible to treat of the matter adequately in so short a space.
+Margaret Elizabeth laughed, and crossed out a paragraph at the bottom of
+her first page, and then set out for the Public Library.
+</p>
+<p>
+Seated in the Reference Room, with more books than she could read in a
+year on the table before her, behold Miss Bentley presently inconsolable
+for lack of a certain authority she chanced to remember in the college
+library at home. The whole force of the Reference Room mourned with her,
+for Margaret Elizabeth in the part of earnest student was no less
+captivating than in her other roles.
+</p>
+<p>
+"I know where there is a copy," said the youngest and wisest of the
+force, "but it won't do you any good. Mr. Knight, the man the children
+call the Miser, has one."
+</p>
+<p>
+"I'll go and ask him to let me see it. I'd like to know a real live
+miser." Margaret Elizabeth closed the book she had in hand and rose.
+</p>
+<p>
+The force gasped at her temerity. They had heard he was a horrid old
+man; but the youngest observed wisely that probably he wouldn't bite.
+</p>
+<p>
+Miss Bentley, however, having recently developed a bump of discretion,
+did first consult Dr. Prue in the matter, who responded, "Why certainly,
+I see no objection to your asking to see the book. Mr. Knight is a
+harmless, studious man. I have met him on two occasions when I was
+called in to attend his housekeeper, Mrs. Sampson, and he was courtesy
+itself. I will go with you and introduce you, if you like."
+</p>
+<p>
+Virginia, hanging around and overhearing, begged to be allowed to go
+too. "I'd love to see the inside of his house," she urged.
+</p>
+<p>
+She was assured she would find it stupid, but this was as nothing
+compared with the glory of entering the abode of the Miser in company
+with her ladyship, and the other pigeons looking enviously on outside.
+</p>
+<p>
+Dr. Prue, of course, had no time to waste, so Margaret Elizabeth
+hastened to find her pad and pencil, and across the street they went
+forthwith. The Miser was discovered in his library, a spacious, shabby
+room, yet not too shabby for dignity, full of valuable and even rare
+things, such as old prints and engravings, and most of all of books,
+which overflowed their shelves in a scholarly disorder not unfamiliar
+to Margaret Elizabeth.
+</p>
+<p>
+With businesslike brevity Dr. Vandegrift presented her cousin and her
+credentials to Mr. Knight, who, with a quaint and formal courtesy, was
+happy to oblige the daughter of an author so distinguished in his chosen
+field.
+</p>
+<p>
+Miss Bentley in her turn presented, with suitable gravity, Miss Virginia
+Brooks, who promised to be quiet as a mouse, and whose eyes betrayed her
+disappointment on discovering the inside of the Miser's house to be so
+much like any other.
+</p>
+<p>
+After the necessary stir attending upon the finding of the desired
+volume, and getting settled to work, profound quiet again rested upon
+the library. Margaret Elizabeth wrote busily, her book propped upon a
+small stand before her, while across the room Virginia softly turned the
+leaves of a huge volume of engravings, pausing now and then to rest her
+cheek in her palm and regard the Miser steadily for a moment.
+</p>
+<p>
+The master of the library had the air of having forgotten their presence
+altogether. Aided by a microscope, with a grave absorbed face, he
+studied and compared a series of prints spread before him. So quiet was
+it all, that the crackle and purr of the coal fire in the old-fashioned
+grate made itself quite audible, and the leisurely tick of the clock in
+the hall marked time solemnly.
+</p>
+<p>
+Margaret Elizabeth's interest in Vedantic Philosophy began after a time
+to wane, and she allowed her attention to wander about the room, from
+object to object, until it concentrated upon the student himself. Was
+he really a miser? she wondered. He did not look it. His was rather the
+face of an ascetic. Suddenly it flashed into her mind that here was the
+sad, grey man of that unforgettable conversation in the park.
+</p>
+<p>
+Virginia slipped down and came to her side. "Is there really a room full
+of gold?" she whispered.
+</p>
+<p>
+Margaret Elizabeth shook her head sternly. It was time they were going.
+Her hand was tired. She would ask permission to come again. As she
+returned her book to the shelf, she displaced a smaller one, a shabby
+leather-bound book, at which she scarcely glanced, but upon which
+Virginia seized.
+</p>
+<p>
+"The Candy Man has one like this," she said. "Such a funny name! See?
+Only his is Vol. one and this is Vol. two."
+</p>
+<p>
+Miss Bentley cared not at all what strange books the Candy Man owned,
+and said so, frowning so severely you could scarcely have believed her
+to be the same person who only a few minutes later was thanking the
+Miser with such alluring grace of manner.
+</p>
+<p>
+She was welcome to come when she chose, she was assured, with grave
+politeness. His library was at her disposal.
+</p>
+<p>
+"You have many beautiful things," said Margaret Elizabeth. "This
+portrait above the mantel, for instance, seems to me very interesting."
+</p>
+<p>
+The portrait in question was rather a splendid one of a military-looking
+man probably in his thirties. One of the best examples of Jouett's work
+it was generally considered, Mr. Knight explained, and said to have been
+an admirable likeness of his uncle, General Waite, at the time it was
+painted.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was inexplicable that as Margaret Elizabeth gazed up at the general
+the eyes beneath the stern brows should become the eyes of the Candy
+Man. But her exasperation at this absurd illusion passed quickly into
+horrified embarrassment, when Virginia, edging toward the master of the
+house, asked explosively, "Say, have you really got a room full of
+gold?"
+</p>
+<p>
+"There is one thing certain, you can never go there with me again," said
+Miss Bentley, on their way across the street.
+</p>
+<p>
+"But Aleck said&mdash;&mdash;" began the culprit.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Never mind what he said. Aleck is a very ignorant little boy. People
+don't keep gold in rooms. If they have it they put it in the bank or
+send it to the mint."
+</p>
+<a name="h2HCH0008" id="h2HCH0008"><!-- H2 anchor --></a>
+
+<div style="height: 4em;"><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>
+
+<h2>
+    CHAPTER EIGHT
+</h2>
+<p class="ctitle">
+<i>In which the Miser's past history is touched upon; which shows how
+his solitude is again invaded, and how he makes a new friend.</i>
+</p>
+<p>
+"There isn't any mystery about <i>him</i>, so far as I know," said the
+Reporter, who was seated as usual upon the carriage block. The Candy
+Wagon continued to act as a magnet for him, and in season and out his
+genial presence confronted the Candy Man.
+</p>
+<p>
+If his emphasis upon the pronoun was noticed, it was ignored. The
+mystery was, the Candy Man replied, how with such a face he could be a
+miser.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Oh, he's a bit nutty, of course. My grandmother says his money came to
+him unexpectedly and the shock was too much for him. They say he has a
+notion he is holding it in trust. He is rational enough in every other
+way, a shrewd investor, in fact. His uncle, General Waite, who left him
+the money, was a connection of my grandmother's."
+</p>
+<p>
+"The Miser is a cousin then?"
+</p>
+<p>
+"Not on your tintype, my friend. Old Knight was a nephew of the
+general's wife, you see."
+</p>
+<p>
+"And there were no other heirs?" asked the Candy Man.
+</p>
+<p>
+"There was an own nephew, I have heard, who mysteriously disappeared
+shortly before the general's death. I have heard my grandmother mention
+it, but it was long before my day. Why are you interested?"
+</p>
+<p>
+Even to himself the Candy Man could not quite explain his interest in
+this sad and lonely man, except that, as he had told Miss Bentley in
+their first and only conversation, he had a habit of getting interested
+in people. For example, in the house where he roomed there was a young
+couple who just now engaged his sympathies. The husband, a teacher in
+the Boys' High School, had been ill with typhoid, and the little wife's
+anxious face haunted the Candy Man. The husband was recovering, but of
+course the long illness had overtaxed their small resources, and&mdash;But,
+oh dear! weren't there hundreds of such cases? What was the good of
+thinking about it! Yet suppose there were a Fairy Godmother Society?
+</p>
+<p>
+The Candy Man was a foolish dreamer, and his favourite dream in these
+days was of some time sitting beside the Little Red Chimney hearth, and
+discussing the Fairy Godmother Society with Miss Bentley. These bright
+dreams, however, were interspersed by moments of extreme depression, in
+which he cursed the day upon which he had become a Candy Man; moments
+when the horrified surprise in the eyes of Miss Bentley as she
+recognised him, rose up to torment him.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was in one of these that the Reporter had presented himself this
+time, and when he was gone the Candy Man returned to his gloom. Having
+nothing else to do just then he opened the shabby book with the funny
+name, and looked at the crimson flower. Through the stain of the flower
+he read:
+</p>
+<p class="quote">
+    <i>"If a person is fearful and abject, what else is necessary but
+    to apply for permission to bury him as if he were dead."</i>
+</p>
+<p>
+The book had come into his possession by a curious chance not long
+before, and he treasured it, not so much for its sturdy philosophy, as
+because it was in some sort a link to the shadowy past of his early
+childhood.
+</p>
+<p>
+The adjectives "fearful" and "abject" brought him up short. What manner
+of man was he to be so quickly overwhelmed by difficulties? As for being
+a Candy Man, did he not owe to this despised position his good fortune
+in meeting Miss Bentley at all?
+</p>
+<p>
+Somewhere about eight o'clock the next evening, being Sunday, he might
+have been seen strolling by the house of the Little Red Chimney. That
+particular architectural feature had lost its identity in the shades of
+evening, but he was indulging the characteristic desire of a lover to
+gaze at his lady's window under the kindly cover of the night.
+</p>
+<p>
+The blind was drawn within a few inches of the sill, but these inches
+allowed him a glimpse of a blazing fire, and while he lingered a shadow
+flitted across the curtain in its direction, and then another, until in
+his mind's eye he beheld Margaret Elizabeth and Uncle Bob seated beside
+the hearth. For aught he knew, it might be Augustus McAllister making
+an evening call, but the Candy Man was just then too determinedly
+optimistic to harbour such an idea.
+</p>
+<a name="image-0006"><!--IMG--></a>
+<center>
+<img src="images/ill-06.png" width="485" height="714" alt="The Miser" />
+<br /><span style="font-variant: small-caps;">The Miser</span>
+</center>
+
+<p>
+As he passed on he was occupied in trying to picture to himself her
+ladyship sitting before her fire, but that familiar little grey hat,
+which was so entirely inappropriate, would persist, in spite of all he
+could do, in getting into the picture. Only once, when curling plumes
+took its place, had he seen her without it, and though for an instant he
+would succeed in removing it, presto! before he knew it, there it was
+again, jammed down anyhow on her bright hair.
+</p>
+<p>
+With odds in favour of the hat, the struggle came to a sudden pause at
+sight of a tall figure leaning heavily and in evident pain against one
+of the ornamental iron fences which prevailed along this street. At once
+proffering his assistance, he recognised Mr. Knight, the Miser.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was plain the sufferer would have preferred to decline help. It would
+soon pass. It was nothing. He had had such attacks before. He spoke
+brokenly, adding, "I thank you," in a tone of dismissal.
+</p>
+<p>
+The Candy Man showed himself to be, when occasion demanded, a masterful
+person. Without arguing the point, he supported the Miser with a firm
+arm and began to urge him in the direction of his home. Mr. Knight, half
+fainting as he was, submitted without a word until his door was reached;
+then, there being no response to his companion's vigorous ring, he
+murmured something about the servants having gone, and began to fumble
+in his pocket.
+</p>
+<p>
+The Candy Man, taking the latch key from his trembling fingers, opened
+the door, and ignoring the evident expectation conveyed in his renewed
+thanks, continued to assert authority, supporting the invalid into his
+library. "I shall not leave you alone until you are relieved," he said.
+</p>
+<p>
+Again Mr. Knight submitted to his captor's will, and lying back in his
+arm-chair directed him to the restorative that was prescribed for these
+seizures. When it had been administered he lay quiet with closed eyes.
+</p>
+<p>
+The Candy Man now turned his attention to the fire, which had burned
+low, coaxing it skilfully out of its sullen apathy. He was brushing up
+tidily, when Mr. Knight, to whose face the colour was returning, spoke.
+</p>
+<p>
+"You are very kind," he said, adding as the Candy Man felt his pulse and
+nodded his satisfaction, "are you a physician?"
+</p>
+<p>
+"No," was the smiling answer. "Merely something of a nurse. My father
+was an invalid for some years."
+</p>
+<p>
+The sick man said "Ah!" his eyes resting, perhaps a little wistfully,
+upon the vigorous young fellow before him. "Don't let me keep you," he
+added. "I am quite relieved, and my housekeeper will return very shortly
+from church."
+</p>
+<p>
+Instead of leaving him the Candy Man sat down. "I have nothing to do
+this evening, Mr. Knight, and unless you turn me out forcibly I mean to
+stay with you till some member of your household comes in."
+</p>
+<p>
+"I fear my strength is hardly equal to turning you out," the Miser
+replied with a smile. "You are most kind." Then after a pause he added
+apologetically: "Will you kindly tell me your name? Your face is
+familiar, but my memory is at fault."
+</p>
+<p>
+"My name is Reynolds, Robert Reynolds, and I am at present conducting a
+candy wagon on the Y.M.C.A. corner. That is where you have seen me." He
+had no mind to sail under false colours again.
+</p>
+<p>
+The sick man's "Indeed!" was spoken with careful courtesy, but his
+surprise was plain enough.
+</p>
+<p>
+The Candy Man leaned forward, an arm on his crossed knee; his eyes met
+those of the older man frankly. "It is not my chosen profession," he
+said. "I happened to be free to follow any chance impulse, and the
+opportunity offered to help in this way a friend in need. It may have
+been foolish. I am alone in the world, and entirely unacquainted here.
+I should not care for the permanent job, but there's more in it than
+you would suppose. More enjoyment, I mean."
+</p>
+<p>
+"I recall now you mentioned the Little Red Chimney," said Mr. Knight.
+</p>
+<p>
+The Candy Man grew red. Why had he been so imprudent? The Miser's memory
+certainly might be worse.
+</p>
+<p>
+"And now I know why your face is so familiar," the invalid went on.
+"I sat opposite to you in the car going to the park one Sunday morning.
+My physician prescribes fresh air. And later I saw you with that
+bright-faced young girl, Miss Bentley. You were talking together in the
+pavilion near the river. You both seemed exceedingly merry. I envied
+you. I seemed to realise how old and lonely I am. I think I envied you
+her friendship."
+</p>
+<p>
+"Your impression is natural," answered the Candy Man, "but the truth is
+I do not know Miss Bentley. We met unexpectedly in the pavilion that
+morning. I did not at the time realise it, I was unpardonably dense,
+but she took me for some one else. On the occasion of the accident that
+foggy evening&mdash;you perhaps remember it&mdash;I overheard the name she gave to
+the conductor. Well, it seems she had no idea she was talking to a Candy
+Man that morning in the park, and I should have known it."
+</p>
+<p>
+The Miser leaned his head on a thin hand, and certainly there was
+nothing sordid, nothing mean, in the eyes which looked so kindly at his
+companion. It was not perhaps a strong face, nor yet quite a weak one;
+rather it indicated an over-sensitive, brooding nature. "You will not
+always be a Candy Man," he said. "I have made Miss Bentley's
+acquaintance recently. She is friendliness itself."
+</p>
+<p>
+At this moment a grey slip of a woman, with a prayer-book in her hand,
+entered, and was presented as Mrs. Sampson, the housekeeper. The Candy
+Man rose to go, but Mr. Knight seemed now in no haste to release him.
+</p>
+<p>
+"I should be glad to see you again, if some evening you have nothing
+better to do," he said. "You may perhaps be interested in some of my
+treasures." He glanced about the room. "You say you too are alone in
+the world?"
+</p>
+<p>
+"Quite," the Candy Man answered. "Everyone I know has some relative, or
+at least an hereditary friend, but owing to the peculiar circumstances
+of my life, I have none. I do not mean I am friendless, you understand.
+I have some school and college friends, good ones. It is in background
+I am particularly lacking," he concluded.
+</p>
+<p>
+"I have allowed my friends to slip away from me," confessed the Miser.
+"It was the force of circumstances in my case, too, though I brought it
+upon myself. I have been justly misunderstood."
+</p>
+<p>
+"'Justly misunderstood.'" The Candy Man repeated the words to himself as
+he walked home in the frosty night. They were strange words, but he did
+not believe them irrational.
+</p>
+<a name="h2HCH0009" id="h2HCH0009"><!-- H2 anchor --></a>
+
+<div style="height: 4em;"><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>
+
+<h2>
+    CHAPTER NINE
+</h2>
+<p class="ctitle">
+<i>Shows how Miss Bentley and the Reporter take refuge in a cave, and
+how in the course of the conversation which follows, she hears something
+which disposes her to feel more kindly toward the Candy Man; shows also
+how Uncle Bob proves faithless to his trust, and his niece finds herself
+locked out in consequence.</i>
+</p>
+<p>
+"Let's pretend we are pursued by wild Indians and take refuge in this
+cave."
+</p>
+<p>
+The scene was one of those afternoon crushes which everybody attends and
+few enjoy. Miss Bentley, struggling with an ice, which the state of the
+atmosphere rendered eminently desirable, and the density of the crowd
+made indulgence in precarious, addressed her next neighbour, whom she
+had catalogued as a nice, friendly boy. "It's Mr. Brown, isn't it?" she
+added in triumph at so easily associating the name with the face.
+</p>
+<p>
+The young man's beaming countenance showed his delight. "Good for you,
+Miss Bentley! It would be great. Let me have your plate while you
+squeeze in."
+</p>
+<p>
+This corner behind a mass of greens seemed to have been left with the
+intention of protecting an elaborate cabinet that occupied a shallow
+recess. However it might be, here was a refuge, difficult of access,
+but possible. Margaret Elizabeth held on to her hat and dived in.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Grand!" she cried. "This is beyond my wildest hopes," and she perched
+herself on a short step-ladder, left here no doubt by the decorators,
+and held out her hands for the plates. Mr. Brown found a more lowly seat
+beneath a bay tree. They looked at each other and laughed.
+</p>
+<p>
+"My position is a ticklish one, so to speak," he observed, vainly trying
+to dodge the palm leaves to the right of him; "but I think we are
+reasonably safe from pursuit."
+</p>
+<p>
+"I haven't the remotest idea where my aunt is," Margaret Elizabeth
+remarked, eating her ice in serene unconcern.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Say, Miss Bentley, I have heard my cousin speak of you&mdash;Augustus
+McAllister, you know."
+</p>
+<p>
+"Are you Mr. McAllister's cousin?" Miss Bentley's tone and smile left
+it to be inferred that this fact above any other was a passport to her
+favour. It must be regretfully recognised, however, that it would have
+been the same if Mr. Brown had mentioned the market-man.
+</p>
+<p>
+Having thus successfully established his claim to notice, the Reporter,
+as was his custom, went on to explain that he belonged to the moneyless
+branch of the family.
+</p>
+<p>
+Margaret Elizabeth assured him, in a grandmotherly manner, that it was
+much better for a young man to have his way to make in the world than to
+have too much money.
+</p>
+<p>
+The Reporter owned this seemed to be the consensus of opinion. How the
+strange notion had gained such vogue he could not understand, but there
+was no use kicking when you were up against it.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Of course, it must be hard work, but it must be interesting. Don't you
+have exciting experiences?" Miss Bentley asked.
+</p>
+<p>
+Oh, he had, certainly, and met such queer people, too. There was a
+fellow who ran a Candy Wagon on the Y.M.C.A. corner, for instance. "You
+ought to meet him, really, Miss Bentley, though, of course, you couldn't
+very well. He's a character, and I have puzzled my brains to discover
+what he's doing it for."
+</p>
+<p>
+Miss Bentley was interested and requested further enlightenment.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Well, I have two theories in regard to him. He is an educated man, and
+a gentleman, so far as I can tell, and I think he is either studying
+some social problem, or he is a detective on some trail."
+</p>
+<p>
+"I never thought&mdash;&mdash;" began Margaret Elizabeth. "I mean," hastily
+correcting herself, "I should never have thought of such an
+explanation."
+</p>
+<p>
+"He's up to something, you may be sure," Mr. Brown continued. "I like to
+talk to him, and do, every chance I get."
+</p>
+<p>
+Margaret Elizabeth certainly showed a flattering interest in all the
+Reporter had to say. "Some day when you have become a great editor," she
+assured him at parting, "I shall refer proudly to the afternoon when we
+sat together in a cave and ate ice cream."
+</p>
+<p>
+"Oh, now, Miss Bentley," the Reporter protested in some embarrassment,
+"I'm sure I shall always think of it with pride, whatever I get to be,
+though that probably won't be much."
+</p>
+<p>
+This conversation was not without its influence upon Miss Bentley's
+subsequent attitude toward the Candy Man. That some one else had found
+him a unique and interesting personality was reassuring, and the
+thought that he might be engaged on some secret mission was novel and
+suggestive. She began to reconsider and readjust, and in future,
+although she still avoided the Y.M.C.A. corner, she allowed her thoughts
+to turn once in a while in that direction.
+</p>
+<p>
+Meanwhile she paid two more visits to the Miser's library, on these
+occasions laying deliberate siege to his reserve with all the charm of
+her bright friendliness. She asked questions about his beloved prints;
+intelligent questions, for Margaret Elizabeth had grown up in an
+atmosphere of appreciation for things rare and fine. She chatted about
+her father and his work, and even ventured some wise advice about fresh
+air and its tonic effect. Indeed, it is a cause for wonder that she was
+able at the same time to collect the material which took shape later in
+that most erudite paper.
+</p>
+<p>
+Under this invasion of youth and gaiety, the sombre, student atmosphere
+became charged with a new, electric current. It was not owing solely to
+Miss Bentley, however, for Sunday evening now frequently found the Candy
+Man dropping in sociably to chat with Mr. Knight in his library.
+</p>
+<p>
+In these days the Miser often sat leaning his head on his hand, a
+meditative, half whimsical expression on his face, as if he found both
+wonder and amusement in the chance that had so strangely brought these
+young people across his threshold.
+</p>
+<p>
+One Sunday afternoon the Pennington motor, having deposited Margaret
+Elizabeth at the Vandegrift gate, with a scornful snort went on its
+swift way to more select regions. It was the first really cold weather
+of the season, and while she waited at the door Margaret Elizabeth
+examined the thermometer, and then buried her nose in her muff.
+"Dear me!" she exclaimed impatiently. "Why doesn't somebody come?"
+</p>
+<p>
+She rang again with no uncertain touch upon the button this time, and
+then, crunching across the frozen grass, peeped in at her own window,
+where a glimpse of smouldering fire rewarded her. She returned to the
+door to ring and rap, still with no response.
+</p>
+<p>
+This was a most unusual state of affairs, for it was an inexorable
+decree of Dr. Prue's that the telephone must never be left alone.
+Somebody must have gone to sleep. The cold and the darkness deepened and
+it became more and more evident that she was locked out. What should
+she do? After canvassing the situation thoroughly, she could think of
+nothing for it but to seek refuge with the Miser. Her acquaintance in
+the neighbourhood was limited. Miss Kitty the dressmaker had gone to
+vespers, and her cottage was dark. The apartment house was too far away.
+From the Miser's library she could watch for the light which would
+betoken the waking up of the delinquent one. So across the street, her
+nose in her muff, ran Margaret Elizabeth.
+</p>
+<p>
+The little housekeeper, Mrs. Sampson, who opened the door, was all
+solicitude. Such a cold evening to be locked out! She knew Mr. Knight
+would be glad to have her wait in the library. He had stepped out for
+a little walk, though she had warned him it was too cold. Thus saying,
+Mrs. Sampson ushered her in, and followed to see if the fire was all it
+should be.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was, for the Candy Man had just given it a vigorous poking and put on
+fresh coal. The room was full of its pleasant light.
+</p>
+<p>
+Mrs. Sampson was surprised to find him there. "Miss Bentley, this is
+Mr. Reynolds, a friend of Mr. Knight's," she explained, adding that Miss
+Bentley was locked out, and wished to sit by the window and watch for
+her uncle to come back. "And if you'll excuse me, Miss Bentley, the cook
+has her Sunday evenings out, and I get supper myself," she added as she
+withdrew.
+</p>
+<p>
+Margaret Elizabeth and the Candy Man faced each other in silence for a
+second or two, then she said, very gravely indeed, "I am glad to meet
+you, Mr. Reynolds."
+</p>
+<p>
+"Thank you, Miss Bentley. May I give you a chair?" he asked.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Thank you, I will sit here by the window." The window was some distance
+from the fire, but as she sat down Margaret Elizabeth loosened her furs
+as if she felt its heat.
+</p>
+<p>
+The Candy Man waited, uncertain what course he should pursue.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Please sit down, Mr. Reynolds. I should like to talk to you, now the
+opportunity has so unexpectedly offered." She regarded him still
+seriously, her hands clasped within her large muff. "I think you owe me
+an explanation."
+</p>
+<p>
+"I am not sure I understand." The Candy Man's heart was beating in an
+absurd and disconcerting way, but he would keep his head and follow her
+lead.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Of course you are aware that you allowed me to talk to you that morning
+in the park, in a&mdash;most unsuitable manner, without even&mdash;&mdash;"
+</p>
+<p>
+"How could I?" cried the Candy Man entreatingly. "I did not know."
+</p>
+<p>
+"Did not know what?" demanded Miss Bentley sternly, as he hesitated.
+</p>
+<p>
+"I thought perhaps&mdash;I was dreadfully lonely, you see, and I thought&mdash;it
+was preposterous&mdash;but I hoped you&mdash;don't you see?&mdash;didn't mind talking
+to an unknown Candy Man."
+</p>
+<p>
+"Oh! was that it?" exclaimed Margaret Elizabeth in a tone difficult to
+interpret. Did she think it preposterous, or not? It seemed to indicate
+she found something preposterous. "Then you were disappointed in me,"
+she added.
+</p>
+<p>
+Never would the Candy Man admit such a thing. He had realised since then
+what a cad he must have seemed, but&mdash;&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>
+"That, however, is neither here nor there," she continued, "since I did
+not recognise you. It was&mdash;&mdash;"
+</p>
+<p>
+"Preposterous?" he suggested.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Yes, preposterous, to suppose that I could. Why, it was nearly dark
+that afternoon, and I&mdash;&mdash;"
+</p>
+<p>
+"Please don't rub it in. I know. You see I knew you so well."
+</p>
+<p>
+"Me?" cried Margaret Elizabeth.
+</p>
+<p>
+"I had seen you pass, I mean."
+</p>
+<p>
+Again Miss Bentley said "Oh!" adding: "You are also the person who
+laughed when I made an idiotic remark about lighthouses in the grocery."
+</p>
+<p>
+The Candy Man protested. He had not laughed.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Your eyes laughed. That is how I first discovered my mistake. Your
+resemblance to Mr. McAllister is remarkable."
+</p>
+<p>
+"So I have been told." The Candy Man shrugged his shoulders, ever so
+little.
+</p>
+<p>
+"However, to go back, I think you owe me an explanation, Mr. Reynolds,
+considering how you allowed me to talk to you under a false impression.
+I am not absolutely lacking in grey matter," she added, while a smile
+curled her lips, "and I think you owe it to me to tell me why you became
+a Candy Man."
+</p>
+<p>
+"In return for the Fairy Godmother idea?" he asked mischievously.
+</p>
+<p>
+Miss Bentley's brows drew together. "If you knew how bitterly I have
+regretted all the foolish things I said that day, you would not laugh,"
+she cried.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Do not say that, please, Miss Bentley. I beg your pardon, and I am not
+laughing. I could not. If you only knew what it all meant to me. How
+I&mdash;&mdash;"
+</p>
+<p>
+His distress was so genuine that Margaret Elizabeth was touched. "Well,
+never mind now. It can't be helped, and I am willing to have it in
+return for the Fairy Godmother nonsense, if you choose to put it so."
+</p>
+<p>
+And now perforce the Candy Man must explain himself.
+</p>
+<p>
+"You see," he began, "I had been knocked out of everything through
+a bad accident that occurred at my home near Chicago&mdash;a runaway.
+Speaking of grey matter, there was some doubt for a time whether mine
+was not permanently injured. However, I gradually recovered, but I was
+still forbidden for another six months at least to do any brain work,
+and ordered by my doctor to loaf in the fresh air. Doing nothing when
+you are longing to get to work is no easy job. I left home with the
+intention of going South, and stopped off here for no particular reason.
+Perhaps I should have said that I have no family. My father died
+something over a year ago. Oddly enough, in front of the station here
+I met an Irish woman, once a servant in my father's house. She was
+overjoyed to see me, and poured out her troubles. Her son, who ran a
+candy wagon, had been taken ill with fever, and his employers would not
+promise to keep the place for him, and altogether she was in hard lines,
+this boy being the main support of a large family. So now you see how
+the idea occurred to me. To amuse myself and keep the boy's place. And
+having no family or friends to be disgraced&mdash;&mdash;"
+</p>
+<p>
+"No one has intimated there was any disgrace about it," Miss Bentley
+interrupted. "At worst it can be called eccentric. It was also very,
+very kind."
+</p>
+<p>
+"Oh, now, Miss Bentley, thank you, but I can't let you overrate that.
+Any help I have given was merely by the way. You must remember I was
+in need of some occupation, and I assure you it has been very much of
+a lark."
+</p>
+<p>
+"Yes?" said Miss Bentley. "Then no doubt before long you will be writing
+'The Impressions of a Candy Man,' or 'Life as Seen from a Candy Wagon.'
+It will be new."
+</p>
+<p>
+"Thanks for the suggestion, I'll consider it. But for the chance that
+made me a Candy Man I should have missed a great deal&mdash;for one thing, a
+realisation of the opportunity that awaits the Fairy Godmother Society."
+</p>
+<p>
+"But Tim will soon be about again," said Margaret Elizabeth.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Then I must look out for another job; but your remark implies some
+further knowledge of Tim. I was not aware I had mentioned his name
+even."
+</p>
+<p>
+Miss Bentley bit her lip, then decided to smile frankly. "I met Tim
+the other day," she said. "My cousin, Dr. Vandegrift, often visits St.
+Mary's, and I sometimes go with her. Tim is a nice boy, and full of
+praises for the kind gentleman who has done so much for him."
+</p>
+<p>
+"And also, let me add, for the lovely young lady who gave him a red
+rose, and&mdash;&mdash;"
+</p>
+<p>
+Margaret Elizabeth laughed. There was no getting ahead of this Candy
+Man. Had he known all along, or had he just guessed? "I see a light at
+last," she said, rising. "I must go, or they will be wondering what has
+become of me." ...
+</p>
+<p>
+"Yes, I know it was my afternoon in," said Uncle Bob plaintively, while
+Margaret Elizabeth made toast at the grate and Dr. Prue set the table.
+"I merely ran over to the drug store for a second, but Barlow was there
+and I got to talking."
+</p>
+<p>
+"It is quite unnecessary to explain, but I do wish, father, you would
+refrain from speaking as if you were required to stay in. It was your
+own proposition to let Nancy go. I could have made other arrangements."
+Dr. Prue was aggrieved. There was no telling how many telephone calls
+had been unanswered.
+</p>
+<p>
+Margaret Elizabeth laughed. "You are absolutely untrustworthy, Uncle
+Bob. Hereafter I shall carry a latch key."
+</p>
+<p>
+"By the way, who was that young man who brought you home?" the doctor
+asked.
+</p>
+<p>
+"His name is Reynolds. He is a stranger here. I have met him once or
+twice." This casual explanation was accompanied by side glances which
+indicated to Uncle Bob that there was more in it than appeared on the
+surface.
+</p>
+<p>
+Margaret Elizabeth had been extremely reserved upon the subject of the
+Candy Man. Uncle Bob had not heard a word of it till now, when, beside
+the Little Red Chimney hearth, supper having been cleared away, and Dr.
+Prue resting with a book on the office lounge, she told him the whole
+story.
+</p>
+<p>
+"You don't say so! That beats anything I ever heard. Well, I said it
+would come out all right, didn't I?" Margaret Elizabeth's narrative was
+punctured, as Mrs. Partington would have said, with many exclamations
+such as these.
+</p>
+<p>
+"I own you were right. It isn't as bad as it seemed. He is really very
+gentlemanly and nice. Still, it is a bit awkward too," she added
+thoughtfully.
+</p>
+<p>
+It is possible she was thinking of Mrs. Gerrard Pennington at the
+moment.
+</p>
+<a name="h2HCH0010" id="h2HCH0010"><!-- H2 anchor --></a>
+
+<div style="height: 4em;"><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>
+
+<h2>
+    CHAPTER TEN
+</h2>
+<p class="ctitle">
+<i>In which the Little Red Chimney keeps Festival, and the Candy Man
+receives an unexpected Invitation.</i>
+</p>
+<p>
+The Candy Man, letting himself in at his lodging house, one gloomy
+Sunday afternoon, stumbled upon a deputation of pigeons, in a state
+of fluttering impatience.
+</p>
+<p>
+"She said to wait, and we thought you were never, never coming!" was
+their chorus.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Never is a long day," said the Candy Man. "What will you have?"
+</p>
+<p>
+It appeared they were the bearers of a missive which read briefly and
+to the point: "Her ladyship requests the pleasure of the Candy Man's
+presence at the Pigeons' Christmas Tree, at four o'clock this
+afternoon."
+</p>
+<p>
+It had seemed to the Candy Man that he was altogether outside the
+holiday world, that for him Christmas had ended with his visit to the
+hospital that afternoon. He had ventured to send a basket of fruit to
+his fellow lodgers, the invalid professor and his wife, and had played
+Santa Claus to two or three newsboys who frequented the Y.M.C.A. corner
+and to the small Malones, and the state of his exchequer scarcely
+warranted anything more. The social calendar in the morning paper
+overflowed with festivities for the week, and he had pleased his fancy
+by picturing Miss Bentley, radiant and lovely, in the midst of them. He,
+the lonely Candy Man, without the pale, could yet enjoy her pleasure in
+imagination. And lo! this lonely Candy Man was bidden to a tree on
+Christmas Eve, by her ladyship. He could not believe his eyes.
+</p>
+<p>
+"It takes you a long time to read it," said Virginia. "You'd better
+come. It's late."
+</p>
+<p>
+Dark was beginning to fall outside, but the Little Red Chimney room was
+full of firelight when the Candy Man was ushered in, in the wake of the
+children, by cordial Uncle Bob. It was a frolicsome, magical light that
+played about a row of red stockings hanging from the shelf above it;
+that advanced to the farthest corner and then retreated; that coaxed and
+dared the unlighted Christmas tree by the piano to wake up and do its
+part; that gleamed in Miss Bentley's hair as she seated the pigeons in
+a semicircle on the rug.
+</p>
+<p>
+Was it the magic of the firelight, or the absence of the grey hat, or
+the blue frock with its deep white collar, or, or&mdash;The Candy Man got no
+further with his questions, for just then Margaret Elizabeth turned and
+gave him her hand, explaining that they were so much stiller when they
+sat on the floor. She added that it was very good of him to come&mdash;a
+purely conventional and entirely inaccurate statement. He was also
+instructed to sit on the sofa with Uncle Bob.
+</p>
+<p>
+"And now," began Miss Bentley, standing with her back to the row of red
+stockings and looking into the upturned faces, "we are going to be
+rather quiet, for this, you know, is both Christmas Eve and Sunday.
+First, we'll sing 'While Shepherds Watched,' very softly."
+</p>
+<p>
+She sat down at the piano and struck a few chords, then her voice rose,
+clear and sweet, the pigeons following her lead, a bit quaveringly at
+first, but doing wonderfully well considering they were not song birds.
+"She's been training them for weeks," Uncle Bob whispered.
+</p>
+<p>
+After this came "Stille Nacht," and Uncle Bob joined in, and then the
+Candy Man, and presently the entrance of Dr. Prue was proclaimed by a
+vigorous alto. The effect was most gratifying to the performers, and
+from the piano Margaret Elizabeth murmured, "Very good."
+</p>
+<p>
+When the singing was over she took her seat on a low ottoman in the
+midst of the children, who drew closer. "Next," she said, patting the
+hand Virginia slipped within her arm, "comes the story, which on
+Christmas Eve everybody should either hear or read for himself."
+</p>
+<p>
+Stillness fell on the Little Red Chimney room, the pigeons listened in
+breathless absorption, while, forgetting herself and her audience, her
+hands loosely clasped on her knees, Margaret Elizabeth began the story
+which, as often as it may be told, yet throbs with tenderness and
+wonder. As she went on her eyes grew dark and deep, and in her face
+shone something more than the sweetness and charm hitherto so endearing.
+Was it a prophecy? A glimpse into the unsounded heart of her?
+</p>
+<p>
+Dr. Prue shaded her eyes with her hand; Uncle Bob wiped his glasses; the
+Candy Man's soul was stirred within him, but he gave no sign.
+</p>
+<p>
+"And they brought gifts, gold, frankincense and myrrh, to the little
+Child in the manger; so now in keeping his birthday, we give each other
+gifts and are happy because of the wonderful night so long ago," ended
+Margaret Elizabeth.
+</p>
+<p>
+After that it was no longer still in the Little Red Chimney room. Uncle
+Bob set the tree alight, and her ladyship distributed the red stockings.
+Nobody was left out, not even the Candy Man, or Nancy and Jenny hovering
+in the background.
+</p>
+<p>
+Upon occasions like the Pigeons' Christmas Tree we long to linger, but
+they are evanescent. The Candy Man must see the children home after a
+few brief words with Miss Bentley.
+</p>
+<p>
+"The Fairy Godmother Society must have been organised, and my name
+entered among its beneficiaries," he told her.
+</p>
+<p>
+"I am glad if you liked it," she replied. "I thought you would.
+To-morrow I am going to Pennington Park to stay till after New Year's,
+but Christmas Eve belonged by rights to the Little Red Chimney." She
+smiled, and the Candy Man nodded understandingly.
+</p>
+<p>
+This much in the midst of the chatter that accompanied the putting on of
+small coats and leggings.
+</p>
+<p>
+"And I may hope that I am forgiven?" he had a chance to add as she gave
+him her hand at parting.
+</p>
+<p>
+Miss Bentley's eyes twinkled. "It will do no harm to hope," she told
+him.
+</p>
+<p>
+The Candy Man, his red stocking protruding from his overcoat pocket,
+conducted the noisy flock to their homes, then turning southward he
+walked on and on toward the edge of the town. As is fitting on Christmas
+Eve, a fine snow had begun to fall, sifting silently over everything,
+transforming even the ugly and pitiful with a mantle of beauty.
+</p>
+<p>
+The Candy Man, striding on through the night, felt an unreasoning joy as
+he thought of Margaret Elizabeth telling the story with the firelight on
+her face. The world seemed throbbing with expectancy. Who could tell
+what splendid event awaited its near fulfilment?
+</p>
+<a name="h2HCH0011" id="h2HCH0011"><!-- H2 anchor --></a>
+
+<div style="height: 4em;"><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>
+
+<h2>
+    CHAPTER ELEVEN
+</h2>
+<p class="ctitle">
+<i>In which a radical change of atmosphere is at once noticed; which
+shows how Miss Bentley repents of a too coming-on disposition, and lends
+an ear to the advantages of wealth.</i>
+</p>
+<p>
+The Christmas fire was not cold upon the hearth of the Little Red
+Chimney before Miss Bentley was whisked away to other scenes, into an
+atmosphere so different that of necessity things took on another aspect.
+</p>
+<p>
+Mrs. Gerrard Pennington found intense satisfaction in her niece's social
+success. Given every advantage, she pointed out, one could never tell
+how a girl would take, and Dick had brought up his daughter in such an
+odd way. Yet in spite of everything, even this awkward arrangement of
+living in two places, Margaret Elizabeth was popular beyond her fondest
+hopes.
+</p>
+<p>
+There were not wanting those who remarked that it would be a marvel if
+she were not spoiled. Probably they were right, and Margaret Elizabeth,
+at the flood tide of her social career, courted, fęted, the kingdoms of
+this world at her feet, was in danger.
+</p>
+<p>
+"And who sent this?" Mrs. Pennington demanded.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was Christmas Day, and "this" was an Indian basket of holly and
+mistletoe, conspicuous, among many costly floral offerings, by its
+simplicity. The card which accompanied it read, "To her Ladyship, from
+the Candy Man," but this Mrs. Pennington had not seen.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Oh," answered her niece, "I don't know how to tell you who he is. He is
+a stranger here&mdash;a Mr. Reynolds. I met him at Mr. Knight's, where you
+remember I went to get some material for my paper for the Tuesday Club."
+</p>
+<p>
+This was all true, and, unaccompanied by a heightened colour, might
+have allayed her aunt's lurking suspicions, born of that unexplained
+interview in the park with some one who was not Augustus.
+</p>
+<p>
+Only once had Mrs. Pennington referred to this, asking half jokingly if
+Margaret Elizabeth had ever discovered the identity of that person;
+putting a somewhat disdainful emphasis upon "person."
+</p>
+<p>
+"Never," Margaret Elizabeth could at that time assure her, and she
+added, "I do not expect to, and certainly do not wish to."
+</p>
+<p>
+Mrs. Pennington, however, had her intuitions in regard to this unknown
+individual. She anticipated his reappearance, and, like a wise general,
+in time of peace prepared for war. Keeping her vague fears to herself,
+she increased her vigilance.
+</p>
+<p>
+Annoyed because of that uncalled-for blush, far away from the Little Red
+Chimney, with fairy-tales forgot, Margaret Elizabeth repeated her aunt's
+question. After all, who was Mr. Reynolds? That which had so lately
+seemed an adventure compounded of kindliness and fun, she now beheld
+only as an awkward situation. She began to feel that she had overstepped
+the bounds in asking him to the Christmas tree; and the red stocking!
+What nonsense! Why should she have felt concerned over his loneliness?
+Were there not many lonely people in the world? Might he not infer from
+it all a rather excessive interest in him and his affairs? Her interview
+with Tim at the hospital, for instance, though it had come about by the
+purest chance, looked on the surface as if she had been bent upon
+investigating him.
+</p>
+<p>
+The Candy Man's offering, which she at first found so happily
+significant and appropriate, now began to seem almost a piece of
+presumption. It lay ignored if not forgotten, till its brown and
+withered contents were tossed into the fire by one of the maids. Did
+Miss Bentley wish her to save the basket?
+</p>
+<p>
+No, Miss Bentley cared nothing for it. Or, wait&mdash;she liked sweet grass,
+and on second thought she would keep it.
+</p>
+<p>
+Never had the holiday season been so gay. There was not time for a
+minute's connected thought. Margaret Elizabeth honestly tried to keep
+her promise to stop and reflect for at least ten minutes a day, but
+either she went to sleep, or fell into a waking dream that bore small
+relation to the sober realities upon which she was supposed to dwell.
+</p>
+<p>
+There were guests at Pennington Park for the holidays&mdash;English friends
+of her uncle and aunt, persons of a broader culture than Margaret
+Elizabeth had ever before encountered. They afforded her an object
+lesson of the best that accrues from wealth and tradition, and is only
+to be attained by means of them. Within herself she was aware of an
+aptitude of her own for these things.
+</p>
+<p>
+But half divining her niece's mood, Mrs. Gerrard Pennington skilfully
+and subtly fostered it, and Augustus McAllister, with unexpected tact,
+followed her lead.
+</p>
+<p>
+Augustus was genuinely in love, and it brought out the best that was
+in him. For the first time in his life something resembling humility
+manifested itself, a humility which sat gracefully upon the possessor
+of variously estimated millions. It seemed to say: "Here is one who,
+although not brilliant, may be led into any desirable path." And with
+his other substantial attractions he combined his full share of good
+looks.
+</p>
+<p>
+To be unresponsive was not in Miss Bentley's make-up, and the attentions
+of Augustus assumed in these days a delicate and pleasing character.
+What girl could be indifferent to the prestige born of the generally
+accepted opinion that the position of mistress of the Towers was hers
+for the word?
+</p>
+<p>
+In truth, all this homage&mdash;and Augustus was far from being alone in
+it&mdash;was to Margaret Elizabeth an exciting game, that need not be taken
+too seriously. It was only when she thought of the Candy Man that she
+became serious and annoyed. How impossible, in the atmosphere of
+Pennington Park, appeared any explanation or justification of so absurd
+a position as his!
+</p>
+<a name="image-0007"><!--IMG--></a>
+<center>
+<img src="images/ill-07.png" width="391" height="741" alt="Cousin Augustus" />
+<br /><span style="font-variant: small-caps;">Cousin Augustus</span>
+</center>
+
+<p>
+When, after a morning recital by the Musical Club, Miss Bentley was seen
+walking down the avenue with Augustus McAllister, society seized upon it
+as confirming an interesting rumour. It was absurd, of course. Margaret
+Elizabeth did it quite innocently. She really felt the need of exercise
+in the open air, and could not very easily dismiss Mr. McAllister, who
+had accompanied her aunt and herself to the concert, and who also felt
+the need of air.
+</p>
+<p>
+Did she think of the Candy Man when they passed the Y.M.C.A. corner?
+Yes, she did. Though she gave not so much as half a glance in the
+direction of the Candy Wagon, she hoped he was not too busy to observe.
+It might counteract possible false impressions in the past.
+</p>
+<p>
+A few days later there appeared in a column of the <i>Evening Record</i>,
+given up to such matters, an item regarding the soon-to-be-announced
+engagement of a certain charming and beautiful girl, only recently a
+resident of the city, and a young man of wealth and social position.
+</p>
+<p>
+It brought Miss Bentley up short. She disliked newspaper gossip
+extremely, and an allusion so faintly veiled that everyone must
+understand, was under the circumstances most embarrassing, for the truth
+was she had not been asked. Her cheeks burned. Yet it was thanks only to
+some clever fencing on her part, and perhaps some words of caution to
+Augustus from his mentor, that she had not been, and she knew in her
+heart it must come soon.
+</p>
+<p>
+Just when you were having a good time and did not wish to be bothered,
+it was tiresome to have to decide momentous questions, she told herself
+almost fretfully, as she was borne swiftly and smoothly downtown one
+afternoon. There was the usual detention at the Y.M.C.A. corner, and
+Margaret Elizabeth looked out and almost into the Candy Wagon before she
+knew it. But there was no cause for alarm. Beneath the white cap of the
+Candy Man shone the round Irish countenance of Tim Malone.
+</p>
+<p>
+Was it Tim after all who had viewed her triumphal walk down the avenue?
+The question brought not a hint of a smile to Miss Bentley's lips; and
+this was a very grave symptom.
+</p>
+<p>
+If Uncle Bob had been within reach! But he wasn't. He had run down to
+Florida to look after his orange grove, and Dr. Prue was up to her eyes
+in grip cases. There was every reason why Margaret Elizabeth should stay
+on at Pennington Park.
+</p>
+<p>
+So the Little Red Chimney had no chance to get in its work. In vain
+Virginia looked from the dining-room window for its curling smoke. In
+vain did the invalid sister of Miss Kitty, the dressmaker, dream of the
+beautiful young lady who brought her roses. In vain did the postman and
+the market-man inquire of Nancy when Miss Bentley was coming back. To
+the Miser alone, who from his study window had also noted the deadness
+of the Little Red Chimney, was the privilege of a word with the
+enchantress accorded. It came about through Mrs. Gerrard Pennington's
+interest in the furnishing of the new quarters of the Colonial Dames.
+</p>
+<p>
+Hearing of a desirable print owned by Mr. Knight, which it was
+understood he might be induced to part with, she drove thither to
+canvass the matter, accompanied by her niece. On the way they picked
+up Augustus, who knew nothing of prints, but was pleased to join the
+expedition.
+</p>
+<p>
+The Miser, beneath his grave courtesy, seemed taken aback by this
+invasion of his solitude. Mrs. Pennington's conventional suavity plainly
+embarrassed him. He smiled indeed at Margaret Elizabeth, remarking as he
+spread out his engravings that it had been long since he last saw her.
+</p>
+<p>
+The impulse was strong upon her to follow him to his desk and ask if he
+had any news of the Candy Man. There were moments when she thought it
+strange she had had no word. These were but fleeting moments, however;
+for the most part she succeeded, or thought she succeeded, in dismissing
+him to the limbo of the past. So now she resisted the impulse to ask
+news of him.
+</p>
+<p>
+When it came to negotiations Margaret Elizabeth and Augustus, leaving
+Mrs. Pennington to conduct them, moved about the room, viewing the
+Miser's curios.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Do you care for mezzotints?" she asked him.
+</p>
+<p>
+"I don't know the first thing about them," Augustus owned. "In fact
+never saw one."
+</p>
+<p>
+She laughed. "Oh, yes, you have. Ever so many of the Reynolds and Romney
+portraits were reproduced in mezzotint. If I am not mistaken there is
+one hanging in your own hall."
+</p>
+<p>
+Augustus gazed at her in undisguised admiration. "I don't see how you
+learn so much, Miss Bentley. I have no doubt I have a lot of things you
+could help me to appreciate."
+</p>
+<p>
+From this dangerous ground she moved hastily, calling attention to the
+portrait above the mantel. Mr. McAllister was more at home here.
+</p>
+<p>
+"A rattling good picture. General Waite, by the way," he informed her,
+"was own cousin to my grandmother on my mother's side. My great
+grandfather and his father were brothers, don't you know."
+</p>
+<p>
+"Indeed!" said Margaret Elizabeth, politely. The relationship did
+not interest her, but she wondered, in annoyance, why the cousin of
+Augustus, on his mother's side, should look down on her with the eyes of
+the Candy Man. Stern eyes they were, with a sparkle of humour behind the
+sternness.
+</p>
+<p>
+On the way home Mrs. Pennington was stirred to reminiscence. "One of
+the first parties I ever attended was in that old house," she said.
+"It must have been thirty-five years ago. I was a very young girl&mdash;barely
+seventeen. General Waite was a most courtly man, and his wife was quite
+famous for her beauty. It was there I met Mr. Pennington. He and the
+general's nephew, Robert Waite, were great friends. They went to college
+together. He disappeared strangely. I remember Gerrard was dread fully
+upset about it at the time. It was just before our marriage."
+</p>
+<p>
+To all this Margaret Elizabeth only half listened. The eyes of the
+general lingered reproachfully with her, and perhaps were at the bottom
+of that policy of postponement with which Augustus was met when the
+inevitable moment came.
+</p>
+<p>
+Just a little time was all she asked. Mr. McAllister was talking of a
+trip to Panama; let him go, and on his return he should have his answer.
+</p>
+<p>
+Miss Bentley was very sweet as she spoke thus; eminently worth waiting
+for. So Augustus went to Panama, and she was left to argue matters with
+herself.
+</p>
+<p>
+During the process she grew pale. Mixed up with her arguments was that
+foolish idea that she ought to have heard something from the Candy Man.
+Had he seen that item in the <i>Evening Record</i>?
+</p>
+<p>
+Mrs. Pennington noticed the pallor, but treated it lightly. Margaret
+Elizabeth was tired out, but now Lent was here she would rest. She was
+worn to death herself, but she would recuperate, and surely her niece,
+who was years younger, could do the same. She failed to take into
+consideration the complications lacking in her own case. In fact, having
+brought matters to the present status, Mrs. Pennington allowed herself
+to relax.
+</p>
+<p>
+Mr. Gerrard Pennington looked at Margaret Elizabeth from beneath his
+bushy brows. Confound them, what were they doing to her? She had a way
+of joining him in the library, and sitting with a book in her lap, which
+she seldom read.
+</p>
+<p>
+One day, laying down his paper, and after a cautious glance over his
+shoulder, he remarked: "Did it ever occur to you, Margaret Elizabeth,
+that you don't have to marry anybody?"
+</p>
+<p>
+She stared at him with surprised eyes, in which a smile slowly dawned.
+"Why, Uncle Gerry, what do you mean? Of course I don't have to."
+</p>
+<p>
+"There is a great deal in suggestion," continued Mr. Pennington. "Keep
+telling people a certain thing, confront them with it on all occasions,
+and they will be influenced in spite of themselves; and it has occurred
+to me&mdash;&mdash;"
+</p>
+<p>
+"Yes?" said Margaret Elizabeth.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Well, that it applies in your case." Mr. Pennington cleared his throat.
+"A certain person whom we know has behaved very well of late; better
+than I thought was in him, but&mdash;unless you are pretty sure you can't
+live without him&mdash;Now this is rank treason on my part, but don't be too
+soft-hearted, Margaret Elizabeth."
+</p>
+<p>
+Mr. Pennington returned to his stock-market reports, and silence
+reigned, but presently two hands rested on his shoulders, and a velvet
+cheek touched his for a moment. "Thank you, Uncle Gerry," said Margaret
+Elizabeth.
+</p>
+<a name="h2HCH0012" id="h2HCH0012"><!-- H2 anchor --></a>
+
+<div style="height: 4em;"><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>
+
+<h2>
+    CHAPTER TWELVE
+</h2>
+<p class="ctitle">
+<i>Which shows Miss Bentley recovering from a fit of what Uncle Bob
+calls Cantankerousness; in which a shipwrecked letter is brought to
+light, and Dr. Prue is called again to visit the child of the Park
+Superintendent.</i>
+</p>
+<p>
+"And he turned into a splendid prince (he had been one all the time
+really, you know), and he laid all his riches at Violetta's feet, and
+made her a princess, because she had been true to him through thick and
+thin."
+</p>
+<p>
+Virginia's voice rose in triumphant climax.
+</p>
+<p>
+"That's all very fine in a fairy-tale, Virginia, and it is an extremely
+good one for a little girl like you to make up out of her own head. But
+you know in real life it is different." Margaret Elizabeth gazed
+pensively into the fire.
+</p>
+<p>
+Virginia, prone upon the hearth-rug, was disposed to argue what she did
+not understand. "How different?"
+</p>
+<p>
+"Well, in a fairy-tale you can have things as you want them, but in
+real life you get tangled up in what other people want, and with duty
+and common sense; and when you determine to follow your&mdash;" Margaret
+Elizabeth was going to say "heart," but changed to "intuitions," "you
+are left high and dry on a desert island."
+</p>
+<p>
+Virginia was to be excused if she failed to make head or tail of this.
+"I wish the Candy Man would come back," she remarked irrelevantly. "He
+was much nicer than Tim. He liked fairy-tales. He said he was coming
+some time."
+</p>
+<p>
+"Oh, did he?" said Miss Bentley.
+</p>
+<p>
+The reference to a desert island, and a disposition to quarrel with
+fairy-tales, go to show that while she was decidedly more like herself
+than in the last chapter, her recovery was not yet complete. In fact
+Margaret Elizabeth was suffering from the irritability that so often
+accompanies convalescence. Cantankerousness was Uncle Bob's word for it,
+and he defended it with all the eloquence of which he was master, his
+finger on the page in the dictionary where it was to be found in good
+and regular standing.
+</p>
+<p>
+It really did not matter what you called it; the point was, that in an
+argument with her aunt, Margaret Elizabeth had gone further than she
+intended; had said what had better have been left unsaid. This she
+confessed to Dr. Prue.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Let me see your tongue," commanded that professional lady, regarding
+her searchingly.
+</p>
+<p>
+Margaret Elizabeth displayed the unruly member, laughing as she did so.
+</p>
+<p>
+"What did you say to Mrs. Pennington?"
+</p>
+<p>
+"We were speaking," Margaret Elizabeth answered meekly, "of gratitude,
+and Aunt Eleanor said, as you are always hearing people say, that there
+is little or none of it in the world. You see, in some matter which came
+up in the Colonial Dames, Nancy Lane sided against her. 'And after all
+I've done for her!' cried Aunt Eleanor. I said I thought gratitude was
+an overrated virtue anyway, and that to expect a person to vote your way
+because you had been good to her, was a kind of graft."
+</p>
+<p>
+"Humph!" said Dr. Prue.
+</p>
+<p>
+"I know it was a dreadful, dreadful thing to say." Tears were in
+Margaret Elizabeth's eyes. "When she has been loveliness itself to me.
+There it is, you see. I have thought about it, and thought about it,
+until I'm all mixed up."
+</p>
+<p>
+"What did your aunt say?"
+</p>
+<p>
+"She was very dignified. She had not expected to hear such a thing from
+me. Then she walked away."
+</p>
+<p>
+"I hope you asked her pardon."
+</p>
+<p>
+"I had no chance. She has gone to Chicago&mdash;was on her way to the station
+then. I will, of course."
+</p>
+<p>
+"For a young thing your ideas are not bad, though your problem is
+entangled in foolish convention, personal pride and so on. But neither
+you nor I was born to set the world right. Now cheer up and think no
+more about it for the present. Be ready at two o'clock to go to the park
+with me. The superintendent's child is ill again."
+</p>
+<p>
+Having delivered her prescription, Dr. Prue left, and her patient
+returned to her hearth-stone and an endeavour to be honest with
+herself. Virginia had interrupted this most difficult process with her
+fairy-tale. While it could not be said to bear upon the situation, after
+she had left Margaret Elizabeth was conscious of a faint lightening of
+the fog.
+</p>
+<p>
+As they sped smoothly toward the park, in the new electric, Margaret
+Elizabeth driving, Dr. Prue exclaimed, "There, I'm forgetting that
+letter again." Unfastening her bag she held it open while she continued,
+"I hope you'll forgive whoever is to blame, but when the hall was being
+cleaned yesterday, James fished this out of the umbrella jar. Dear knows
+how it got there or when; it looks as if it had been in a shipwreck."
+She produced a stained and sorry-looking missive from her bag. "You can
+just make out the address, the postmark is quite gone," she added,
+laying it in her companion's lap. "You haven't missed an important
+letter, have you?"
+</p>
+<p>
+"Not that I know of," Margaret Elizabeth replied with a laugh that was
+a bit unsteady. "It is probably nothing of value." She kept her gaze on
+the road ahead. "Just slip it in my pocket, please."
+</p>
+<p>
+All the rest of the way to the park her heart thumped uncomfortably.
+Could it be? Of course not, it was an advertisement. Why get excited?
+Meanwhile she chatted pleasantly with Dr. Prue.
+</p>
+<p>
+"All you need is fresh air and a simple life for a while. Your colour
+has come back wonderfully," the doctor remarked as they drew up at the
+cottage gate. "Will you wait for me here?"
+</p>
+<p>
+"If you don't mind, I think I'll go into the park, and if I'm not back
+by the time you are ready, don't wait. I can take the street car."
+</p>
+<p>
+Turning in at the entrance to the park, Margaret Elizabeth was for a
+fleeting moment aware of a Candy Wagon standing at the curb a few yards
+away. There was nothing unusual in this except the odd way in which it
+fitted into the situation, and the next moment she had forgotten
+everything but the letter in her hand.
+</p>
+<p>
+She walked slowly down the path. The April sunshine sifted through a
+faint and feathery greenness overhead, the air was clear and fresh. She
+was thinking that she had seen just one little scrap of the Candy Man's
+writing&mdash;on the card accompanying the Christmas basket; and this on the
+letter was blurred and stained, yet she was sure of it. He had written.
+She had been sure he would. She was glad. She would be honest with
+herself. She wanted him for a friend. In many ways she liked him better
+than any one she had met this winter. She wanted to know more about him.
+</p>
+<p>
+She tried to tear the letter open, but for all it was so damaged the
+paper had remained tough. She would wait to read it till she reached the
+summer house. That little vine-hung arbour had been in her thought ever
+since Dr. Prue proposed to bring her down to the park. She had a foolish
+desire to sit there and look at the river, and go on being honest with
+herself.
+</p>
+<p>
+Margaret Elizabeth, mounting the steps and looking at her letter as she
+did so, was confronted by somebody who started up in surprise from the
+bench where she had sat with her flowers that autumn day.
+</p>
+<p>
+For one surprised moment she and the stranger faced each other, then
+Miss Bentley exclaimed, "I saw the wagon at the gate, but I didn't know
+it was yours." And then the mischief faded into simple honest gladness
+as she held out her hand. "I certainly did not expect to see you," she
+added, "but you are an unexpected sort of person."
+</p>
+<p>
+"Nothing so wonderful as the chance of meeting you occurred to me for a
+moment," the Candy Man assured her. "In fact I was not certain you cared
+to see me." Those same pleasant eyes, so emphatically not the eyes of
+Augustus, looked into hers questioningly.
+</p>
+<p>
+Margaret Elizabeth held up the letter. "It was shipwrecked," she said.
+"I got it only a few minutes ago. I haven't read it. I thought it was
+you who didn't care to be friends."
+</p>
+<p>
+The Candy Man did not exactly understand how a letter could be
+shipwrecked in an overland journey of ten hours, but he dismissed it as
+of no importance. "It isn't worth reading now," he said. "It was just
+to make my adieus and ask if some time when I had lived down my past,"
+here he smiled, "I might come back and tell you my strange story. I was
+counting on your willingness to be friends. You remember you said it
+would do no harm to hope."
+</p>
+<p>
+"Oh, did I? And when you did not hear from me, what did you think?
+Honestly," asked Margaret Elizabeth.
+</p>
+<p>
+"I thought of course there must be a reason. A shipwreck did not occur
+to me."
+</p>
+<p>
+"Do you mean a reason for not being friends? But you came."
+</p>
+<p>
+"The suspense was too much for me. I haven't many friends; and besides,
+this is on the way to Texas."
+</p>
+<p>
+"So you are going to Texas this time?"
+</p>
+<p>
+It seemed the Candy Man had heard of an opening there.
+</p>
+<p>
+Margaret Elizabeth wanted to ask why he had come to the park, but
+something told her not to; instead she said, looking away to the shining
+river, "I know of no reason why we should not be friends. So I am ready
+to hear the story you speak of. Is it more strange than the adventures
+of a Candy Wagon?" Her eyes came back and met his as they had done the
+day when the conversation turned upon fairy godmothers. Margaret
+Elizabeth was not spoiled.
+</p>
+<p>
+"It is more serious," was his reply. "In fact, it is very serious.
+The Candy Wagon was a mere episode. What I wish to tell you now goes
+deeper."
+</p>
+<a name="h2HCH0013" id="h2HCH0013"><!-- H2 anchor --></a>
+
+<div style="height: 4em;"><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>
+
+<h2>
+    CHAPTER THIRTEEN
+</h2>
+<p class="ctitle">
+<i>In which the Candy Man relates his story, and the Miser comes upon
+Volume I of the shabby book with the funny name.</i>
+</p>
+<p>
+"I want you to know all about me," began the Candy Man, taking from his
+pocket the shabby little book Virginia had once remarked on, "so there
+may be no more wrong impressions."
+</p>
+<p>
+They sat in the sunshine on the top step of the little pavilion, facing
+the river. Margaret Elizabeth, supporting her chin in her hand, regarded
+him gravely. The west wind was cool on their faces.
+</p>
+<p>
+"I have often imagined myself telling you," he went on. "Not that there
+is much to it, besides its strangeness. In fact, to be brief, I don't
+know who I am."
+</p>
+<p>
+The surprise in Miss Bentley's eyes caused him to add quickly: "Not that
+I am a foundling. But my father and mother were lost at sea when I was
+three years old. We were coming from Victoria to San Francisco, when the
+steamer went down. Only a few of the passengers were saved, I among
+them."
+</p>
+<p>
+"How sad and terrible!" cried Margaret Elizabeth. "Can you remember it?
+How lost and lonely you must have been! Poor little child!"
+</p>
+<p>
+"I recall it only in a vague way," he answered, "confused with what has
+since been told me. When it was known that my parents were lost, a man
+and his wife, fellow passengers, offered to adopt me. Beyond the name
+'Robert Deane, Wife and Child,' on the list at the ship's office, they
+were unable to learn anything about me, and I was too young and
+bewildered to give any clue."
+</p>
+<p>
+"That is very strange," said Margaret Elizabeth. "Your new father and
+mother were kind to you?"
+</p>
+<p>
+"So kind I soon forgot the terror and loneliness, and grew happy and
+content. Everything was done to make me forget, and I think while they
+made every effort to find out something about me, they were glad when
+they failed. I wish now that my childish memories might have been
+fostered, for I find myself reaching back into a mist full of vague
+shapes.
+</p>
+<p>
+"My new father was a civil engineer, whose work took him here, there and
+everywhere throughout the broad West. I never knew a permanent home. My
+adopted mother died when I was twelve. After that came boarding school
+and college. About the time I left college my father's health failed,
+and for several years he was helpless and very dependent upon me, so
+I gave up my plan of entering a mining school.
+</p>
+<p>
+"It was during his illness that he began to speak to me of my own
+parents. He had talked to them on several occasions during the voyage,
+and he described them as young people of refinement and education. My
+mother, he thought from her speech, was English. They rather held aloof,
+he said, and seemed disinclined to mention their own affairs. While he
+was ill the news came to us of the finding in a storage warehouse in San
+Francisco of an old trunk which it seemed probable had belonged to my
+parents. Without going into detail, I may say it was through an old
+acquaintance of my adopted father's, who knew the circumstances of my
+adoption, that we heard of it. He had some interest in the warehouse,
+which was about to be torn down and rebuilt. This trunk was found in
+some forgotten corner where it had lain for twenty-five years."
+</p>
+<p>
+"And did it throw any light?" asked Margaret Elizabeth.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Not much, it rather deepened the mystery. There was little of
+significance in it, but this book and a package of letters. From them I
+learned nothing definite, but gathered the unwelcome probability that my
+father was under some sort of cloud, and was not using his real name.
+This was a matter of inference&mdash;of deduction, largely, but it was plain
+he had left his home in some sort of trouble.
+</p>
+<p>
+"It is not easy to piece together scattered allusions, when you have no
+clue. The letters were most of them written by my father to my mother,
+just before and soon after their marriage, with one or two from her to
+him. One of these, which I found between the leaves of this little book,
+I want you to read. It concludes my story, and to my mind lightens it a
+little."
+</p>
+<p>
+The letter the Candy Man held out to Margaret Elizabeth was written on
+thin paper, in a delicate angular hand.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Ought I to read it?" she demurred. "Are you sure she would like it?"
+</p>
+<p>
+"Somehow I am very sure," he answered. "And I feel that it will be a
+grip on our friendship. I have told you the worst, I wish you to know
+the best of me."
+</p>
+<p>
+She acquiesced, and, an elbow on her knee, shading her eyes with her
+hand, she read the letter, whose date was thirty years ago. Far back
+in the past this seemed to Margaret Elizabeth, yet it was a girl like
+herself who wrote.
+</p>
+<p>
+The first sentences were almost meaningless, so strong was the feeling
+that she had no right to be reading it at all, but as she went on she
+forgot her scruples. It was evidently a reply to a letter from her lover
+in which he had spoken of the cloud that hung over his name, and it was
+a confession of her faith in him, girlish, sweet and tender. "I trust
+you, Robert," it said. "It is in you to do heedless things, to be
+reckless, if only because you are young and eager and strong; but it
+is not in you to be dishonourable; of this I am as certain as I am of
+anything in life. Some day the truth will be known and you will be
+cleared, but whether it is or no, I choose to walk beside you. I choose
+it gladly, happily. I write the words again, gladly, happily, Robert.
+Yours, Mary."
+</p>
+<p>
+"Oh!" cried Margaret Elizabeth, lifting a glowing face, "I love Mary."
+</p>
+<p>
+"She was brave and unselfish," said the Candy Man.
+</p>
+<p>
+Margaret Elizabeth nodded. "Yes, that is one side of it. Still, you see,
+she was sure, and it was, as she says, a joy to cast in her lot with
+him. 'Gladly, happily.'" Her eyes shone. She gazed far away down the
+river. The wind blew little tendrils of bright hair across her cheek.
+"It must be so when you care very much," she went on.
+</p>
+<p>
+"But," argued the Candy Man, "under the stress of very noble feeling
+people sometimes do foolish things, do they not?"
+</p>
+<p>
+"But this was not. Do you think for a moment Mary ever regretted it?
+I see what you mean by the best of you. It is something to have such
+credentials." Margaret Elizabeth's gaze met the Candy Man's, and her
+eyes were deep as they had been on Christmas Eve, in the firelight.
+</p>
+<p>
+Oh, Margaret Elizabeth, it is your own fault, for being so dear, so
+unworldly! Could you, can you, cast in your lot with an unknown Candy
+Man? He has no business to ask you. He did not mean to, but only to
+prepare the way. He knows he is no great catch, even from the point of
+view of a Little Red Chimney. These are not the precise words of the
+Candy Man, but something like them....
+</p>
+<p>
+So absorbed was Margaret Elizabeth in the thought of Mary, she was a bit
+slow in taking in their meaning. She gave him one startled glance, and
+then looked down, as it happened, upon the shabby little book which lay
+on the step between them. Absently she drew it toward her, and with
+fingers that trembled, opened it, as if to find her answer in its pages.
+Then a smile began faintly to curl about her lips, and she read aloud
+from the book:
+</p>
+<p class="quote">
+    <i>"What we find then to accord with love and reason, that we may
+    safely pronounce right and good."</i>
+</p>
+<p>
+"Judged at the bar of reason I fear my case is hopeless," protested the
+Candy Man, putting out his hand to close the book.
+</p>
+<p>
+But Margaret Elizabeth clasped it to her breast. "I see nothing
+unreasonable in it," she declared stoutly. As she spoke a faded crimson
+flower fell in her lap.
+</p>
+<p>
+Somewhat later in the afternoon, Miss Bentley and the Candy Man,
+walking together along the river path, had they not been so engrossed
+in their own affairs, might have recognised the tall, stooping figure
+of the Miser strolling slowly ahead of them. It was for a minute only,
+for near a turn in the path he bent forward and disappeared in a thicket
+of althea bushes. At this season it was not a dense thicket, and Mr.
+Knight, poking in the soft mould with his cane in search of a certain
+tiny plant, had no thought of hiding, but, as it chanced, was unobserved
+by his friends.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Oh, Margaret Elizabeth," her companion was saying as they passed, "you
+are so dear! I have no business to be telling you so, but indeed I can't
+help it."
+</p>
+<p>
+And she with a little laugh replied: "I am glad you can't, Candy Man."
+And the next moment they were gone around the turn.
+</p>
+<p>
+That was all, but it was enough. What rarer flower was likely to come
+the Miser's way, on this or any day?
+</p>
+<p>
+He stood and looked after them. These two had brought into his grey
+life the touch of golden youth. He began to tremble under the force
+of a wonderful thought. He sought a bench and sank upon it. It would
+be a solution of his problem. He had come out to-day into the spring
+sunshine, feeling his burden more than he could bear, for in his pocket
+was a letter which put an end to the hope he had long cherished of at
+length righting a great wrong.
+</p>
+<p>
+There must be a way of doing what he wished. The consent of the Candy
+Man once gained, that hateful fortune, which through these years had
+been slowly crushing him, might become a minister of joy and well being,
+might make possible for others those best things of life that he had
+missed.
+</p>
+<p>
+The thought thrilled him. He rose and walked on, back to the pavilion,
+where he paused again to rest. There on the step lay the shabby book
+with the funny name and the small oval bit cut from the fly leaf,
+beneath which was the Candy Man's name, Robert Deane Reynolds.
+</p>
+<a name="h2HCH0014" id="h2HCH0014"><!-- H2 anchor --></a>
+
+<div style="height: 4em;"><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>
+
+<h2>
+    CHAPTER FOURTEEN
+</h2>
+<p class="ctitle">
+<i>Shows how Mrs. Gerrard Pennington, unhappy and distraught, beseeches
+Uncle Bob to help her save Margaret Elisabeth; also how Mr. Gerrard
+Pennington comes to the rescue, and how in the end his wife submits
+gracefully to the inevitable, which is not so bad after all.</i>
+</p>
+<p>
+When Mrs. Gerrard Pennington was shown into the room of the Little Red
+Chimney, there was nobody there. A chilly wind outside, which dashed
+the rain against the windows, only served to call attention to the
+pleasantness within. It was indeed an aggressively cheerful room,
+entirely out of keeping with Mrs. Pennington's mood. The open piano,
+the row of thrifty ferns on the window-sill, the new novel on the table
+with a foreign letter between its leaves, and the work basket beside
+it&mdash;which, by the way, was of sweet grass&mdash;all sang the same song to
+the accompaniment of the fire's quiet crackle.
+</p>
+<p>
+The burden of the song was Margaret Elizabeth. You saw her sitting bolt
+upright on the sofa, being very intense about something, or lost in
+thought, elbows on knees, on the ottoman beside the hearth, or occupied
+with that bit of embroidery, her curling lashes almost on her cheek. Oh,
+Margaret Elizabeth, how could you? How could you?
+</p>
+<p>
+Mrs. Pennington, pacing uneasily back and forth, glanced at the music on
+the piano rack.
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>  "Oh, stay at home, my heart, and rest,</p>
+<p>  Home-keeping hearts are happiest,"</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<p>
+it admonished her. In this disarming atmosphere she began to feel
+herself the victim of some wretched dream. Yet here in her bag was
+Margaret Elizabeth's note, found awaiting her on her return from Chicago
+an hour ago.
+</p>
+<p>
+In it her niece apologised contritely for the inexcusable manner in
+which she had spoken, and continued: "It makes me unhappy, dearest
+Aunt Eleanor, to think of disappointing you, for you have been the
+kindest aunt in the world, but I have discovered in the last few
+days what I ought to have known all along, that I cannot marry Mr.
+McAllister. The reason is there is some one else. He is neither rich
+nor of distinguished family, but there are things that count for more,
+at least to me. I shall see you very soon, and explain more fully.
+In the meantime think kindly, if you can, of your niece,
+</p>
+<p>
+MARGARET ELIZABETH."
+</p>
+
+<a name="image-0008"><!--IMG--></a>
+<center>
+<img src="images/ill-08.png" width="494" height="684" alt="Mrs. Gerrard Pennington" />
+<br /><span style="font-variant: small-caps;">Mrs. Gerrard Pennington</span>
+</center>
+
+<p>
+This as it stood was bad enough, wrecking her dearest hopes at the
+moment when they had seemed most secure; but taken in connection with
+a story related in artless innocence by her travelling companion of
+yesterday, Teddy Brown, to use one of that gentleman's cherished
+phrases, it spelled tragedy.
+</p>
+<p>
+The Reporter had not been bent on mischief. Far from it. He was merely
+grappling bravely with the task of being agreeable to the great lady.
+Surely it was but natural that in the course of a long conversation the
+Candy Man's curious resemblance to Augustus should suggest itself as a
+topic; and given a gleam of something like interest in his companion's
+eyes, it was easy to continue from bad to worse.
+</p>
+<p>
+He lived in the same apartment house as Virginia, and from her he
+had heard of the Christmas tree, and the Candy Man's presence on the
+occasion; also of that old accident on the corner in which the Candy
+Man had figured as Miss Bentley's rescuer. No wonder those intuitions
+regarding a person who was not Augustus should have risen to torture
+Mrs. Pennington. All this circumstantial evidence was very black against
+Margaret Elizabeth, seemingly so honest and frank. No wonder Mrs.
+Pennington was distraught.
+</p>
+<p>
+Meanwhile, wherever her heart might be, Margaret Elizabeth herself
+was out. Uncle Bob, coming in, paper in hand, to greet the visitor
+cordially, could not imagine where she had gone, and peered around the
+room as if after all she might have escaped their notice. If she wasn't
+in, he was confident she would be, in the course of a few minutes, which
+confidence was not a logical deduction from known facts, but merely an
+untrustworthy inference, born of his surprise at finding her out at all.
+</p>
+<p>
+Placing a chair for Mrs. Pennington, he took one himself and regarded
+her genially. Some minutes of polite conversation followed, in the
+course of which Mrs. Pennington, concealing her agitation, spoke of her
+journey to Chicago in quest of colonial furnishings. Mr. Vandegrift in
+his turn brought forward Florida and orange groves.
+</p>
+<p>
+But Margaret Elizabeth delayed her coming, and Mrs. Pennington could
+stand it no longer. "Mr. Vandegrift," she began, after the silence that
+followed the last word on oranges, "I regret that my niece is not here,
+yet it may be as well to speak to you first. I may say, to make an
+appeal to you. You are, I am sure, fond of Margaret Elizabeth." She
+played nervously with the fastening of her shopping bag.
+</p>
+<p>
+Uncle Bob looked at her in surprise, then at the toe of his shoe. "I
+think I may safely admit it," he owned, crossing his knees and nodding
+his head.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Then, Mr. Vandegrift, I beseech you, with all the feeling of which I am
+capable, to unite with me in saving this misguided girl." At this point
+all her intuitions and fears rallied around Mrs. Pennington, and gave a
+quiver to her voice.
+</p>
+<p>
+Uncle Bob was astonished at her tone, and said so.
+</p>
+<p>
+"I assure you, Mr. Vandegrift, I have her own word for it." She produced
+a note from her bag.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Her word for what?" he asked.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Why, for&mdash;oh, Mr. Vandegrift, let us not waste time in futile fencing.
+You must know that Margaret Elizabeth has deceived me; has been guilty
+of base ingratitude; has been meeting clandestinely a person&mdash;a mere
+adventurer. I can scarcely bring myself to say it. My brother Richard's
+daughter!" Mrs. Pennington had recourse to her handkerchief.
+</p>
+<p>
+Uncle Bob uncrossed his knees and sat bolt upright. "Madame," he
+exclaimed, "I am sorry for your distress, whatever its cause, but let me
+assure you, you are under some grave mistake. My niece has met no one
+clandestinely, and is incapable of deceit and treachery."
+</p>
+<p>
+"Do I understand then that it was with your connivance?"
+</p>
+<p>
+"I have connived at nothing, Madame, and I know of no adventurer." Uncle
+Bob took his penknife from his pocket and tapped on the table with it.
+His manner was legal in the extreme. He was enjoying himself.
+</p>
+<p>
+Mrs. Pennington looked over her handkerchief. "But she says,
+herself&mdash;&mdash;"
+</p>
+<p>
+"Says she has been guilty of deceit and treachery? Has been meeting an
+adventurer clandestinely? Pardon me, but this is incredible."
+</p>
+<p>
+"What is incredible, Uncle Bob?" came a voice from the half-open door,
+unmistakably that of the accused. "I'll be there as soon as I get off my
+raincoat," it added.
+</p>
+<p>
+"It is hopeless to try to make you understand," Mrs. Pennington almost
+sobbed, the while sounds from the hall indicated that some one beside
+Margaret Elizabeth was removing a raincoat. A horrible dread suddenly
+smote her, lest it be that person. A sleepless night and her distress
+had unnerved her. She felt herself unequal to the encounter.
+</p>
+<p>
+She glanced about helplessly for a way of escape, but there was none.
+"Tell him not to come in. I cannot see him now," she begged tragically
+of Uncle Bob, who, honestly mystified now, stood between her and the
+door, looking from it to her.
+</p>
+<p>
+"She says not to come in," he repeated to Margaret Elizabeth's
+companion, who was following her in.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Why, Aunt Eleanor, I didn't know it was you! They told me your train
+was late. And oh, what is the matter? What are you crying about? Is it
+I?" Margaret Elizabeth, with raindrops on her hair, knelt beside her
+aunt and embraced her, pressing a cool cheek against that lady's
+fevered one.
+</p>
+<p>
+Mrs. Pennington, her face hidden in her hands, continued to murmur, "I
+cannot see him. I cannot see him."
+</p>
+<p>
+"In the name of heaven, Eleanor, why can't you see me? Why must I not
+come in?" demanded a familiar voice which brought her to with a shock.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Gerrard!" she cried, in her surprise revealing a sadly tear-stained
+countenance.
+</p>
+<p>
+Uncle Bob beat a retreat into the hall, where he paused, chuckling to
+himself.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Certainly it is I. Who should it be?" said her husband, taking a seat
+beside her. "Why are you making such a sight of yourself, my dear? When
+I telephoned out to know if you had arrived, they said you had and had
+gone out again immediately, no one knew where. I came out to talk over
+some business with William Knight, and when I was leaving I saw your car
+over here, and thought I'd join you; but if my presence is unbearable,
+I will withdraw." Mr. Pennington smiled at Margaret Elizabeth.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Don't be silly, please, I have had a most trying day. I don't expect
+you to understand."
+</p>
+<p>
+Mrs. Pennington was recovering her poise. There was something
+irresistibly steadying in her husband's matter-of-fact statement, and in
+the sight of her niece sitting back on her heels and looking up at her
+with lovely, solicitous eyes. Treachery and deceit became meaningless
+terms in such connection.
+</p>
+<p>
+"You haven't given us a chance to understand, Eleanor. What is the
+trouble?" Mr. Pennington demanded.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Uncle Gerry, I am afraid it is I," said Margaret Elizabeth, picking up
+the note from the floor where it had fallen. "I am sorry, you know I am,
+that I can't do as she wishes, but you understand that I can't. Tell
+her, please, that I did honestly try to think I could, but it wasn't of
+any use."
+</p>
+<p>
+"Oh, come now, Eleanor, if that is it, of course we wanted Margaret
+Elizabeth up at the Park; but the young people of this generation like
+to manage their own affairs, as we did before them." Mr. Pennington
+looked quizzically at his niece. "She's been getting up a bit of
+melodrama for our benefit, that's all. If you will pardon the
+suggestion, my dear, I think possibly it is you who do not understand."
+</p>
+<p>
+Margaret Elizabeth, rising from her lowly position, threw him a kiss
+over her aunt's head.
+</p>
+<p>
+"How can I be expected to, with everything shrouded in mystery?" cried
+Mrs. Pennington. "Why have I never heard of this person before? Why was
+I left to be told dreadful things by a reporter?"
+</p>
+<p>
+"A reporter!" cried Margaret Elizabeth, in her turn aghast.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Nonsense! If you heard anything dreadful you know Margaret Elizabeth
+well enough to know it was not true. But how in the world could a
+reporter have got hold of it?"
+</p>
+<p>
+"You speak so confidently, Gerrard, tell me, what do you know about this
+man?" Mrs. Pennington looked from her niece to her husband. "Margaret
+Elizabeth seems to have completely won you to her side," she added.
+</p>
+<p>
+"It is really a very strange story, Eleanor, and to begin at the end of
+it, we have quite sufficient evidence, in my opinion, to prove that he
+is the son of my old comrade, Robert Waite."
+</p>
+<p>
+Mrs. Pennington fixed surprised eyes upon her husband. Margaret
+Elizabeth sat down and folded her hands in her lap.
+</p>
+<p>
+"You recall how Rob disappeared, without a word to any of his friends?
+It was not till some years after the general's death that I had the
+least clue to it; then William Knight came to me to know if I could
+give any help in tracing him. He owned that there had been some trouble
+between General Waite and Robert, and that the latter had been unjustly
+treated. I couldn't give him any assistance, and I never discussed it
+with him again. Knight was always close-mouthed, and it was only the
+other day that I learned what the trouble was. It seems the general
+suspected his nephew of taking a large sum of money from the safe in his
+library. It was one of those cases of complete circumstantial evidence.
+Rob was known to have lost money on the races. He was the only one
+beside the general himself who had access to the safe, and who knew that
+this money, several thousand dollars, was there at this time. That is,
+so it was supposed.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Knowing them both, one can easily understand the outcome. Robert
+disappeared, and a few years later, when the general died, he left his
+fortune to William Knight, his wife's nephew. Then after some little
+time the real thief turned up. I won't go into that, further than to
+say that it was through a deathbed confession to a priest. Since then
+Knight has been searching far and wide for some trace of Robert, only
+to receive last week the evidence of his death twenty-five years ago.
+And now comes the strange part of the story. The very day on which
+he received this news, Knight came by chance upon a book which he
+recognised as once the property of Robert Waite. The owner's name was
+cut from the fly leaf, but below it was written the name of a young
+man whose acquaintance he had made last winter, Robert Deane Reynolds.
+Deane was Rob's middle name, so naturally it led to an investigation."
+</p>
+<p>
+Mr. Pennington looked over at Margaret Elizabeth. "Have I told a
+straight story?" he asked.
+</p>
+<p>
+"There were letters, you know," she prompted.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Oh, yes. This young man had letters which I could have identified
+anywhere."
+</p>
+<p>
+Mrs. Pennington was interested. She asked questions. That absurd story
+about a Candy Wagon was untrue then? But how had Margaret Elizabeth met
+this person? She still referred to him as a person. And somehow the
+united efforts of Margaret Elizabeth and Mr. Pennington failed to clear
+up the mystery, though they did their best.
+</p>
+<p>
+Even if the Candy Wagon episode was to be regarded as humorous, though
+it did not present itself in that light to Mrs. Pennington, how could
+Margaret Elizabeth have asked a Candy Man to her Christmas tree?
+</p>
+<p>
+"But you see, by that time I knew he wasn't real, Aunt Eleanor, and
+anyway&mdash;"
+</p>
+<p>
+"Now go slow, Margaret Elizabeth," cautioned her uncle. "At heart you
+are a confounded little socialist, but take my advice and keep it to
+yourself." He was thinking of what she had said to him only the day
+before: "You see, Uncle Gerry, you can't have everything. You have
+to choose. And while I like bigness and richness, I like Little Red
+Chimneys and what they stand for, best. I want to be on speaking terms
+with both ends, you see."
+</p>
+<p>
+"It is odd," Mr. Pennington went on, "the tricks heredity plays, and
+that this young man and Augustus McAllister should both hark back to a
+common ancestor for their general characteristics of build and feature.
+I was struck with the resemblance, myself."
+</p>
+<p>
+"It was what first attracted me," owned Margaret Elizabeth demurely.
+</p>
+<p>
+The name of Augustus still had painful associations for Mrs. Pennington.
+She rose. "Really we must be going," she said. At some future time she
+felt she might be able to meet Mr. Reynolds or Waite, or whatever his
+name was, with equanimity, but now she was thankful to hear he had gone
+back to Chicago for some papers.
+</p>
+<p>
+She received Margaret Elizabeth's farewell embrace languidly. "Since
+there is such weight of authority in your favour, and matters have
+developed so strangely, there is nothing for me to say. I dislike
+mystery, and prefer to have things go on regularly and according to
+precedent. It is your welfare I have at heart."
+</p>
+<p>
+Mr. Pennington's good-by was different.
+</p>
+<p>
+"I don't wonder you like it down here, Margaret Elizabeth&mdash;this room,
+you know," he said.
+</p>
+<p>
+As they drove homeward Mrs. Pennington was engaged in mentally
+reconstructing affairs. "Of course," she heard herself saying, "it was
+a disappointment to me, but romantic girls are not to be controlled by
+common-sense aunts, and really it might be worse." And she remarked
+aloud: "The fact that he is a nephew of General Waite means something."
+</p>
+<p>
+"That's so," assented her husband. "Something like half a million.
+Old Knight is determined to hand it all over." He smiled to himself,
+then added: "He came to see me&mdash;the young man, I mean. I liked him.
+He suggested Rob a little without resembling him. Very gentlemanly;
+nice eyes."
+</p>
+<a name="h2HCH0015" id="h2HCH0015"><!-- H2 anchor --></a>
+
+<div style="height: 4em;"><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>
+
+<h2>
+    CHAPTER FIFTEEN
+</h2>
+<p class="ctitle">
+<i>In which the Fairy Godmother Society is again mentioned, among other
+things</i>.
+</p>
+<p>
+"But it is really embarrassing when I had made up my mind to marry a
+poor Candy Man to have it turn out so. I rather liked defying common
+sense," said Margaret Elizabeth.
+</p>
+<p>
+The Candy Man had made a hurried journey to Chicago, and was back before
+the rain was over, and while it was still cold enough for a fire, so
+that his old dream of sometime sitting by the Little Red Chimney's
+hearth was coming true. Margaret Elizabeth in the blue dress, by
+request, though she declared it wasn't fit to be seen, occupied the
+ottoman, her elbows on her knees, the firelight playing in her bright
+hair.
+</p>
+<p>
+"It is the way it happens in fairy-tales," urged the Candy Man. "And I
+really couldn't help it."
+</p>
+<p>
+"Of course you are right," she agreed. "As Virginia's story runs, 'He
+turned into a prince, and because Violetta had been true to him through
+thick and thin, he made her a princess.' Anyhow, Candy Man, I'm glad I
+chose you before your good fortune came."
+</p>
+<p>
+"It was an extremely venturesome thing to do, Girl of All Others, as
+I have told you before, though immensely flattering to me. I have to
+take the money, there is no way out of it. I believe it would break our
+Miser's heart if I refused. Do you know what he was proposing to do
+before he found the book?"
+</p>
+<p>
+"What?" asked Margaret Elizabeth.
+</p>
+<p>
+"To adopt me. You see we had come to be pretty good friends last
+winter, and I think he suspected from the start that I had rather lofty
+aspirations for a Candy Man. In a Little Red Chimney direction&mdash;you
+understand?"
+</p>
+<p>
+"Perfectly&mdash;go on."
+</p>
+<p>
+"Well, he saw us in the park&mdash;&mdash;"
+</p>
+<p>
+"And his suspicions were confirmed, I suppose," put in Margaret
+Elizabeth, coolly.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Exactly. And knowing from what I had told him previously that I had
+my fortune to seek, it occurred to him that as the channel he had been
+hoping for had been closed, the next best thing would be to make it
+possible for two young persons to&mdash;&mdash;"
+</p>
+<p>
+"The dear old Miser!" interrupted Margaret Elizabeth. "But why is he so
+unwilling to use the money himself? It is honestly his."
+</p>
+<p>
+"I may not fully understand, but I think from things he has said, that
+as a boy he was jealous of my father. This feeling would naturally make
+him, when it came to the test, not unwilling to believe in his guilt.
+Then, being reticent and introspective, he magnified all this a
+thousandfold when the truth came out, and he realised he had profited by
+the unjust suspicion. By dwelling upon it he came to feel as if he had
+actually obtained the money himself by unfair means. But I am convinced
+that if he did encourage his uncle to believe in my father's guilt, it
+was because he firmly believed it himself. Never since the facts were
+known has he regarded the money as his, and not until he had almost
+exhausted his own means in the effort to trace the rightful owner, as
+he regarded him, did he use a penny of it."
+</p>
+<p>
+"It is so touching to see his surprise and gratitude that I do not feel
+resentful toward him," added the Candy Man. "His joy at handing over
+this fortune is wonderful. He already looks a different man."
+</p>
+<p>
+"We must make it up to him in some way," said Margaret Elizabeth. "I
+mean for all these lonely years. Speaking of money, I'll tell you what
+I have been thinking. When we build our house, as I suppose we shall
+some day, when we come back from our search for the Archćologist&mdash;&mdash;"
+</p>
+<p>
+"By all means. That is one mitigating circumstance. We can build a
+house," responded the Candy Man.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Well, as I was going to say, we must have a Little Red Chimney. The
+house will be broad and low," she extended her arms, "and with wings;
+I love wings. One of them shall have a Little Red Chimney all its own.
+It shall stand for our ideals. If we should be tempted to a sort of life
+that separates us from our fellows, it will remind us, you, that you
+once sat in a Candy Wagon, me, that I fell in love with a Candy Man. And
+I'll tell you what, speaking of the Miser. Don't you remember? It was he
+you meant that day when we were talking about the Fairy Godmother
+Society, and&mdash;&mdash;"
+</p>
+<p>
+Of course the Candy Man remembered.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Then, let's organise and make him chief agent while we are gone. I know
+of a number of things to be done."
+</p>
+<p>
+"So do I," said the Candy Man. "There is my fellow lodger, the one I
+told you about, a teacher in the High School. He needs a real change
+this summer, he and his wife."
+</p>
+<p>
+"Oh, I am sure we can work it out," cried Margaret Elizabeth.
+</p>
+<p>
+"I am sure we can," he assented.
+</p>
+<p>
+"You see it will begin where organised charity leaves off, of necessity.
+Also where that can't possibly penetrate, and it will be singularly
+free, because secret."
+</p>
+<p>
+"Again you sound like the minutes of the first meeting," said the Candy
+Man.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Margaret Elizabeth!"
+</p>
+<p>
+It was Uncle Bob's voice at the door. "I hate to disturb you, but that
+old bore at the club wants your father's address."
+</p>
+<p>
+"You aren't disturbing. Come in and hear about the Fairy Godmother
+Society."
+</p>
+<p>
+"You don't mean really?" Uncle Bob stood before the hearth and looked
+from his niece to the Candy Man.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Indeed we do," she answered. "You see we have ten times as much money
+as we thought we had. So why not?"
+</p>
+<p>
+"Quite correct, as we thought we hadn't any," murmured the Candy Man.
+</p>
+<p>
+Uncle Bob rubbed his hands in delight. "I told Prue you'd do something
+of the sort; that you wouldn't just settle down to be ordinary rich
+people. But Prue says riches bring caution."
+</p>
+<p>
+Margaret Elizabeth, going to her desk for the address, laughed. "We
+aren't going to forget our humble beginning," she said; "and we'll act
+quickly before we are inured to our new estate."
+</p>
+<p>
+"But then, you know, there is another side to it," her uncle interposed,
+in a sudden access of prudence. "You must consider the matter carefully
+with an eye to the future. For instance now, there may be heirs."
+</p>
+<p>
+A silence fell. The fire crackled, and the clock ticked with unusual
+distinctness. Then Margaret Elizabeth spoke.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Here's the address," she said. "I'll put it in your pocket, where you
+can't forget it." And as she tucked it in, she added, stoutly, with a
+lovely deepening of the colour in her cheek: "If there are, Uncle Bob,
+they will be fairy god-brothers and sisters, so it will be all right."
+</p>
+<p>
+It was after the door had closed upon Uncle Bob, and Margaret Elizabeth
+was back on her low seat again, that the Candy Man left his chair and
+sat on the rug beside her. "Girl of All Others, is there any one else
+in the world as happy as I?" he asked.
+</p>
+<p>
+Margaret Elizabeth smiled at him with eyes that answered the question
+before she spoke. Then she said, slipping her hand into his, "One
+other."
+</p>
+
+<div style="height: 6em;"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>
+
+<h4>
+THE END
+</h4>
+
+<div style="height: 6em;"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The Little Red Chimney, by Mary Finley Leonard
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Little Red Chimney, by Mary Finley Leonard
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Little Red Chimney
+       Being the Love Story of a Candy Man
+
+Author: Mary Finley Leonard
+
+Release Date: March 18, 2005 [EBook #15406]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LITTLE RED CHIMNEY ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Kentuckiana Digital library, David Garcia and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE LITTLE RED CHIMNEY
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: THE CANDY MAN]
+
+
+
+
+The Little Red Chimney
+
+_Being the Love Story of a Candy Man_
+
+
+BY MARY FINLEY LEONARD
+
+
+Illustrations in Silhouette by KATHARINE GASSAWAY
+
+
+New York--Duffield & Company--1914
+
+
+Copyright, 1914, by DUFFIELD & COMPANY
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+_CHAPTER I_
+
+In which the curtain rises on the Candy Wagon, and the leading
+characters are thrown together in a perfectly logical manner by Fate.
+
+_CHAPTER II_
+
+In which the Candy Man walks abroad in citizen's clothes, and is
+mistaken for a person of wealth and social importance.
+
+_CHAPTER III_
+
+In which the Little Red Chimney appears on the horizon, but without
+a clue to its importance. In which also the Candy Man has a glimpse
+of high life and is foolishly depressed by it.
+
+_CHAPTER IV_
+
+In which the Candy Man again sees the Grey Suit, and Virginia continues
+the story of the Little Red Chimney.
+
+_CHAPTER V_
+
+In which the double life of the heroine is explained, and Augustus
+McAllister proves an alibi.
+
+_CHAPTER VI_
+
+In which Margaret Elizabeth is discussed at the Breakfast Table; in
+which also, later on, she and Virginia and Uncle Bob talk before the
+fire, and in which finally Margaret Elizabeth seeks consolation by
+relating to Uncle Bob her adventure in the park.
+
+_CHAPTER VII_
+
+Shows how the Candy Wagon is visited in behalf of the Squirrel, and how
+pride suffers a fall; how Miss Bentley turns to Vedantic Philosophy to
+drown her annoyance, and discovers how hard it is to forget when you
+wish to.
+
+_CHAPTER VIII_
+
+In which the Miser's past history is touched upon; which shows how his
+solitude is again invaded, and how he makes a new friend.
+
+_CHAPTER IX_
+
+Shows how Miss Bentley and the Reporter take refuge in a cave, and how,
+in the course of the conversation which follows, she hears something
+which disposes her to feel more kindly toward the Candy Man; shows also
+how Uncle Bob proves faithless to his trust and his niece finds herself
+locked out in consequence.
+
+_CHAPTER X_
+
+In which the Little Red Chimney keeps Festival, and the Candy Man
+receives an unexpected invitation.
+
+_CHAPTER XI_
+
+In which a radical change of atmosphere is at once noticed; which shows
+how Miss Bentley repents of a too coming-on disposition, and lends an
+ear to the advantages of wealth.
+
+_CHAPTER XII_
+
+Which shows Miss Bentley recovering from a fit of what Uncle Bob calls
+Cantankerousness; in which a shipwrecked letter is brought to light, and
+Dr. Prue is called again to visit the child of the Park Superintendent.
+
+_CHAPTER XIII_
+
+In which the Candy Man relates his story, and the Miser comes upon
+Volume I of the shabby book with the funny name.
+
+_CHAPTER XIV_
+
+Shows how Mrs. Gerrard Pennington, unhappy and distraught, beseeches
+Uncle Bob to help her save Margaret Elizabeth; also how Mr. Gerrard
+Pennington comes to the rescue, and how in the end his wife submits
+gracefully to the inevitable, which is not so bad after all.
+
+_CHAPTER XV_
+
+In which the Fairy Godmother Society is again mentioned, among other
+things.
+
+
+
+
+ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+
+THE CANDY MAN
+
+MARGARET ELIZABETH
+
+VIRGINIA
+
+DR. PRUE
+
+UNCLE BOB
+
+THE MISER
+
+COUSIN AUGUSTUS
+
+MRS. GERRARD PENNINGTON
+
+
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+                      To
+             George Madden Martin
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+THE LITTLE RED CHIMNEY
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER ONE
+
+_In which the curtain rises on the Candy Wagon, and the leading
+characters are thrown together in a perfectly logical manner by
+Fate_.
+
+
+The Candy Wagon stood in its accustomed place on the Y.M.C.A. corner.
+The season was late October, and the leaves from the old sycamores, in
+league with the east wind, after waging a merry war with the janitor all
+morning, had swept, a triumphant host, across the broad sidewalk, to lie
+in heaps of golden brown along the curb and beneath the wheels of the
+Candy Wagon. In the intervals of trade, never brisk before noon, the
+Candy Man had watched the game, taking sides with the leaves.
+
+Down the steps of the Y.M.C.A. building sauntered the Reporter.
+Perceiving the Candy Wagon at the curb he paused, scrutinising it
+jauntily, through a monocle formed by a thumb and finger.
+
+The wagon, freshly emblazoned in legends of red, yellow and blue which
+advertised the character and merits of its wares, stood with its
+horseless shafts turned back and upward, in something of a prayerful
+attitude. The Reporter, advancing, lifted his arms in imitation, and
+recited: "Confident that upon investigation you will find everything as
+represented, we remain Yours to command, in fresh warpaint." He seated
+himself upon the adjacent carriage block and grinned widely at the
+Candy Man.
+
+In spite of a former determination to confine his intercourse with the
+Reporter to strictly business lines, the Candy Man could not help a
+responsive grin.
+
+The representative of the press demanded chewing gum, and receiving it,
+proceeded to remove its threefold wrappings and allow them to slip
+through his fingers to the street. "Women," he said, with seeming
+irrelevance and in a tone of defiance, "used to be at the bottom of
+everything; now they're on top."
+
+The Candy Man was quick at putting two and two together. "I infer you
+are not in sympathy with the efforts of the Woman's Club and the Outdoor
+League to promote order and cleanliness in our home city," he observed,
+his eye on the debris so carelessly deposited upon the public
+thoroughfare.
+
+"Right you are. Your inference is absolutely correct. The foundations of
+this American Commonwealth are threatened, and the _Evening Record_
+don't stand for it. Life's made a burden, liberty curtailed, happiness
+pursued at the point of the dust-pan. Here is the Democratic party of
+the State pledged to School Suffrage. The Equal Rights Association is to
+meet here next month, and--the mischief is, the pretty ones are taking
+it up! The first thing you know the Girl of All Others will be saying,
+'Embrace me, embrace my cause.' Why, my Cousin Augustus met a regular
+peach of a girl at the country club,--visiting at the Gerrard
+Penningtons', don't you know, and almost the first question she asked
+him was did he believe in equal rights?" The Reporter paused for breath,
+pushing his hat back to the farthest limit and regarding the Candy Man
+curiously. "It is funny," he added, "how much you look like my Cousin
+Augustus. I wonder now if he could have been twins, and one stolen by
+the gypsies? You don't chance to have been stolen in infancy?"
+
+This innocent question annoyed the Candy Man, although he ignored it,
+murmuring something to the effect that the Reporter's talents pointed to
+the stump. It might have been a guilty conscience or merely impatience
+at such flagrant nonsense, for surely he could not reasonably object
+to resembling Cousin Augustus. The Candy Man was a well-enough looking
+young fellow in his white jacket and cap, but nothing to brag of, that
+he need be haughty about a likeness to one so far above him in the
+social scale, whom in fact he had never seen.
+
+The Reporter lingered in thoughtful silence while some westbound
+transfers purchased refreshment, then as a trio of theological students
+paused at the Candy Wagon, he restored his hat to its normal position
+and strolled away. On the Y.M.C.A. corner business had waked up.
+
+For some time the Candy Wagon continued to reap a harvest from the rush
+of High School boys and younger children. Morning became afternoon,
+the clouds which the east wind had been industriously beating up
+gathered in force, and a fine rain began to fall. The throng on the
+street perceptibly lessened; the Candy Man had leisure once more to
+look about him.
+
+A penetrating mist was veiling everything; the stone church, the
+seminary buildings, the tall apartment houses, the few old residences
+not yet crowded out, the drug store, the confectionery--all were softly
+blurred. The asphalt became a grey lake in which all the colour and
+movement of the busy street was reflected, and upon whose bosom the
+Candy Wagon seemed afloat. As the Candy Man watched, gleams of light
+presently began to pierce the mist, from a hundred windows, from passing
+street cars and cabs, from darting machines now transformed into
+strange, double-eyed demons. It was a scene of enchantment, and with
+pleasure he felt himself part of it, as in his turn he lit up his wagon.
+
+The traffic officer, whose shrill whistle sounded continually above the
+clang of the trolley cars and the hoarse screams of impatient machines,
+probably viewed the situation differently. Given slippery streets,
+intersecting car lines, an increasing throng of vehicles and
+pedestrians, with a fog growing denser each moment, and the utmost
+vigilance is often helpless to avert an accident. So it was now.
+
+The Candy Man did not actually see the occurrence, but later it
+developed that an automobile, in attempting to turn the corner,
+skidded, grazing the front of a car which had stopped to discharge some
+passengers, then crashing into a telegraph pole on the opposite side of
+the street. What he did see was the frightened rush of the crowd to the
+sidewalk, and in the rush, a girl, just stepping from the car, caught
+and carried forward and jostled in such a manner that she lost her
+footing and fell almost beneath the wheels of the Candy Wagon, and
+dangerously near the hoofs of a huge draught horse, brought by its
+driver to a halt in the nick of time.
+
+The Candy Man was out and at her side in an instant, assisting her
+to rise. The panic swept past them, leaving only a long-legged child
+in a red tam, and a sad-faced elderly man in its wake. The Candy Man
+had seen all three before. The wearer of the red tam was one of the
+apartment-house children, the sad man was popularly known to the
+neighbourhood as the Miser, and the girl, to whose assistance he had
+sprung--well, he had seen her on two previous occasions.
+
+As she stood in some bewilderment looking ruefully at the mud on her
+gloves and skirt, the merest glance showed her to be the sort of girl
+any one might have been glad to help.
+
+"Thank you, I am not hurt--only rather shaken," she said in answer to
+the Candy Man.
+
+"Here's your bag," announced the long-legged child, fishing it out of
+the soggy mass of leaves beneath the wagon. "And you need not worry
+about your skirt. Take it to Bauer's just round the corner; they'll
+clean it," she added.
+
+The owner of the bag received it and the accompanying advice with an
+adorable smile in which there was merriment as well as appreciation.
+The Miser plucked the Candy Man by the sleeve and asked if the young
+lady did not wish a cab.
+
+She answered for herself. "Thank you, no; I am quite all right--only
+muddy. But was it a bad accident? What happened?"
+
+The Miser crossed the street where the crowd had gathered, to
+investigate, and returning reported the chauffeur probably done for.
+While he was gone the conductor of the street car appeared in quest of
+the names and addresses of everybody within a radius of ten blocks. In
+this way the Candy Man learned that her name was Bentley. She gave it
+reluctantly, as persons do on such occasions, and he failed to catch
+her street and number.
+
+"I'm very sorry! I suppose there is nothing one can do?" she exclaimed,
+apropos of the chauffeur, and the next the Candy Man knew she was
+walking away in the mist hand in hand with the long-legged child.
+
+"An unusually charming face," the Miser remarked, raising his umbrella.
+
+To the sober mind "unusually charming" would seem a not unworthy
+compliment, but the Candy Man, as he resumed his place in the wagon,
+smiled scornfully at what he was pleased to consider its grotesque
+inadequacy. If he had anything better to offer, the Miser did not stay
+to hear it, but with a courteous "good evening" disappeared in his
+turn in the mist. An ambulance carried away the injured man, the crowd
+dispersed; the remains of the machine were towed away to a near-by
+garage. Night fell; the throng grew less, the rain gathered courage and
+became a downpour. There would be little doing in the way of business
+to-night.
+
+As he made ready for early closing the Candy Man fell to thinking of the
+girl whose name was Bentley. Not that the name interested him save as a
+means of further identification. It was a phrase used by the Reporter
+this morning that occurred to him now as peculiarly applicable to her.
+The Girl of All Others! He rolled it as a sweet morsel under his tongue,
+undisturbed by the reflection that such descriptive titles are at
+present overworked--in dreams one has no need to be original.
+
+Neither did it strike him as incongruous that he should have seen her
+first in the grocery kept by Mr. Simms, who catered to the needs of such
+as got their own breakfasts, and whose boiled ham was becoming famous,
+because it was really done. He went back to the experience, dwelling
+with pleasure upon each detail of it, even his annoyance at the grocer's
+daughter, who exchanged crochet patterns with the tailor's wife, after
+the manner of a French exercise, and ignored him. It was early and
+business had not yet begun on the Y.M.C.A. corner; still he could not
+wait forever. The grocer himself, who was attending to the wants of a
+lean and hungry-looking student, had just handed his rolls and smoked
+sausage across the counter, with a cheery "Breakfast is ready, ring the
+bell," when the door opened and the Girl of All Others came in.
+
+She was tallish, but not very tall, and somewhat slight. She wore a grey
+suit--the same which had suffered this afternoon from contact with the
+street, and a soft felt hat of the same colour jammed down anyhow on her
+bright hair and pinned with a pinkish quill--or so it looked. The face
+beneath the bright hair was---- But at this point in his recollections
+the Candy Man all but lost himself in a maze of adjectives and adverbs.
+We know, at least, how the long-legged child ran to help, and finally
+went off hand in hand with her, and what the Miser said of her, and
+after all the best the Candy Man could do was to go back to the
+Reporter's phrase.
+
+He had withdrawn a little behind a stack of breakfast foods where he
+could watch her, wondering that the clerks did not drop their several
+customers without ceremony and fly to do her bidding. She stood beside
+the counter and made overtures to a large Maltese cat who reposed there
+in solemn majesty. Beside the Maltese rose a pyramid of canned goods,
+and a placard announced, "Of interest to light house keepers." Upon this
+her eyes rested in evident surprise. "I didn't know there were any
+lighthouses in this part of the country," she said half aloud.
+
+[Illustration: MARGARET ELIZABETH]
+
+The Maltese laid a protesting paw upon her arm. It was not, however, the
+absurdity of her remark, but the cessation of her caresses he protested
+against. At the same moment her eyes met those of the Candy Man, across
+the stack of breakfast foods. His were laughing, and hers were instantly
+withdrawn. He saw her colour mounting as she exclaimed, addressing the
+cat, "How perfectly idiotic!"
+
+He longed to assure her it was a perfectly natural mistake, the placard
+being but an amateurish affair; but he lacked the courage.
+
+And then the grocer, having disposed of another customer, advanced to
+serve her, and the grocer's daughter, it seemed, was also at leisure;
+and though he would have preferred to watch the Girl of All Others doing
+the family marketing in a most competent manner, a thoughtful finger
+upon her lip, the Candy Man was forced to attend to his own business.
+In selecting a basket of grapes and ordering them sent to St. Mary's
+Hospital, he presently lost sight of her.
+
+Once since then she had passed his corner on her way up the street.
+That was all until to-night. It seemed probable that she lived in the
+neighbourhood. Perhaps the Reporter would know.
+
+Just here the recollection that he was a Candy Man brought him up short.
+His bright dreams began to fade. The Girl of All Others should of course
+be able to recognise true worth, even in a Candy Wagon, but such is the
+power of convention he was forced to own to himself it was more than
+possible she might not. Or if she did, her friends----
+
+But these disheartening reflections were curtailed by the sudden
+appearance of a stout, grey horse under the conduct of a small boy. The
+shafts were lowered, the grey horse placed between them, and, after a
+few more preliminaries, the Candy Wagon, Candy Man and all, were removed
+from the scene of action, leaving the Y.M.C.A. corner to the rain and
+the fog, the gleaming lights, and the ceaseless clang of the trolley
+cars.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER TWO
+
+_In which the Candy Man walks abroad in citizen's clothes, and is
+mistaken for a person of wealth and social importance._
+
+
+The Candy Man strolled along a park path. The October day was crisp, the
+sky the bluest blue, the sunny landscape glowing with autumn's fairest
+colours. It was a Sunday morning not many days after the events of the
+first chapter, and back in the city the church bells were ringing for
+eleven o'clock service.
+
+In citizen's clothes, and well-fitting ones at that, the Candy Man was
+a presentable young fellow. If his face seemed at first glance a trifle
+stern, this sternness was offset by the light in his eyes; a steady,
+purposeful glow, through which played at the smallest excuse a humorous
+twinkle.
+
+After the ceaseless stir of the Y.M.C.A. corner, the stillness of the
+park was most grateful. At this hour on Sunday, if he avoided the golf
+grounds, it was to all intents his own. His objective point was a rustic
+arbour hung with rose vines and clematis, where was to be had a view of
+the river as it made an abrupt turn around the opposite hills. Here he
+might read, or gaze and dream, as it pleased him, reasonably secure from
+interruption once he had possession.
+
+The Candy Man breathed deeply, and smiled to himself. It was a day to
+inspire confident dreams, for the joy of fulfilment was over the land.
+Was it the sudden fear that some other dreamer might be before him, or
+a subconscious prevision of what actually awaited him, that caused him
+to quicken his steps as he neared the arbour? However it may have been,
+as he took at a bound the three steps which led up to it, he came with
+startling suddenness upon Miss Bentley entering from the other side,
+her arms full of flowers. Their eyes met in a flash of recognition
+which there was no time to control. She bowed, not ungraciously, yet
+distantly, and with a faint puzzled frown on her brow, and he, as he
+lifted his hat, spoke her name, which, as he was not supposed to know
+it, he had no business to do; then they both laughed at the way in which
+they had bounced in at the same moment from opposite directions.
+
+With some remark about the delightful day, the Candy Man, as a gentleman
+should, tried to pretend he was merely passing through, and though it
+was but a feeble performance, Miss Bentley should have accepted it
+without protest, then all would have been well. Instead, she said, still
+with that puzzled half frown, "Don't go, I am only waiting here a moment
+for my cousin, who has stopped at the superintendent's cottage." She
+motioned over her shoulder to a vine-covered dwelling just visible
+through the trees.
+
+"Please do not put it in that way," he protested. "As if your being here
+did not add tremendously to my desire to remain. I am conscious of
+rushing in most unceremoniously upon you, and----"
+
+Hesitating there, hat in hand, his manners were disarmingly frank. Miss
+Bentley laughed again as she deposited her flowers, a mass of pink and
+white cosmos, upon a bench, and sat down beside them. She seemed willing
+to have him put it as he liked. She wore the same grey suit and soft
+felt hat, jammed down any way on her bright hair and pinned with a
+pinkish quill, and was somehow, more emphatically than before, the Girl
+of All Others.
+
+How could a Candy Man be expected to know what he was about? What wonder
+that his next remark should be a hope that she had suffered no ill
+effects from the accident?
+
+"None at all, thank you," Miss Bentley replied, and the puzzled
+expression faded. It was as if she inwardly exclaimed, "Now I know!"
+"Aunt Eleanor," she added, "was needlessly alarmed. I seem rather given
+to accidents of late." Thus saying she began to arrange her flowers.
+
+The Candy Man dropped down on the step where the view--of Miss
+Bentley--was most charming, as she softly laid one bloom upon another in
+caressing fashion, her curling lashes now almost touching her cheek, now
+lifted as she looked away to the river, or bent her gaze upon the
+occupant of the step.
+
+"Do you often come here?" she asked, adding when he replied that this
+was the third time, that she thought he had rather an air of
+proprietorship.
+
+He laughed at this, and explained how he had set out to pay a visit to
+a sick boy at St. Mary's Hospital, but had allowed the glorious day to
+tempt him to the park.
+
+Below them on the terraced hillside a guard sat reading his paper;
+across the meadow a few golfers were to be seen against the horizon.
+All about them the birds and squirrels were busily minding their own
+affairs; above them smiled the blue, blue sky, and the cousin, whoever
+he or she might be, considerately lingered.
+
+Like the shining river their talk flowed on. Beginning like it as a
+shallow stream, it broadened and deepened on its way, till presently
+fairy godmothers became its theme.
+
+Miss Bentley was never able to recall what led up to it. The Candy Man
+only remembered her face, as, holding a crimson bloom against her cheek,
+she smiled down upon him thoughtfully, and asked him to guess what she
+meant to do when some one left her a fortune. "I have a strange
+presentiment that some one is going to," she said.
+
+"How delightful!" he exclaimed, but did not hazard a guess, and she
+continued without giving him a chance: "I shall establish a Fairy
+Godmother Fund, the purpose of which shall be the distribution of good
+times; of pleasures large and small, among people who have few or none."
+
+"It sounds," was the Candy Man's comment, "like the minutes of the first
+meeting. Please explain further. How will you select your beneficiaries?"
+
+"I don't like your word," she objected. "Beneficiaries and fairy
+godmothers somehow do not go together. Still, I see what you mean, and
+while I have not as yet worked out the plan, I'm confident it could be
+managed. Suppose we know a poor teacher, for instance, who has nothing
+left over from her meagre salary after the necessary things are provided
+for, and who is, we'll say, hungry for grand opera. We would enclose
+opera tickets with a note asking her to go and have a good time, signed,
+'Your Fairy Godmother,' and with a postscript something like this, 'If
+you cannot use them, hand them on to another of my godchildren.' Don't
+you think she would accept them?"
+
+Under the spell of those lovely, serious eyes, the Candy Man rather
+thought she would.
+
+"Of course," Miss Bentley went on, "it must be a secret society, never
+mentioned in the papers, unknown to those you call its beneficiaries.
+In this way there will be no occasion or demand for gratitude. No
+obligations will be imposed upon the recipients--that word is as bad as
+yours--let's call them godchildren--and the fairy godmother will have
+her fun in giving the good times, without bothering over whether they
+are properly grateful."
+
+"You seem to have a grievance against gratitude," said the Candy Man
+laughing.
+
+"I have," she owned.
+
+"There are people who contend that there is little or none of it in the
+world," he added.
+
+"And I am not sure it was meant there should be--much of it, I mean. It
+is an emotion--would you call it an emotion?"
+
+"You might," said the Candy Man.
+
+"Well, an emotion that turns to dust and ashes when you try to
+experience it, or demand it of others," concluded Miss Bentley with
+emphasis. "And you needn't laugh," she added.
+
+The Candy Man disclaimed any thought of such a thing. He was profoundly
+serious. "It is really a great idea," he said. "A human agency whose
+benefits could be received as we receive those of Nature or
+Providence--as impersonally."
+
+She nodded appreciatively. "You understand." And they were both aware
+of a sense of comradeship scarcely justified by the length of their
+acquaintance.
+
+"May I ask your ideas as to the amount of this fund?" he said.
+
+She considered a moment. "Well, say a hundred thousand," she suggested.
+
+"You are expecting a large bequest, then."
+
+"An income of five thousand would not be too much," insisted Miss
+Bentley. "We should wish to do bigger things than opera tickets, you
+know."
+
+"There are persons who perhaps need a fairy godmother, whom money
+cannot help," the Candy Man continued thoughtfully. "There's an old
+man--not so old either--a sad grey man, whom the children on our block
+call the Miser. I am not an adept in reading faces, but I am sure there
+is nothing mean in his. It is only sad. I get interested in people,"
+he added.
+
+"So do I," cried his companion. "And of course, you are right. The Fairy
+Godmother Society would have to have more than one department. Naturally
+opera tickets would not do your man any good--unless we could get him to
+send them."
+
+They laughed over this clever idea, and the Candy Man went on to say
+that there were lonely people in the world, who, through no fault of
+their own, were so circumstanced as to be cut off from those common
+human relationships which have much to do with the flavour of life.
+
+"I don't quite understand," Miss Bentley began. But these young persons
+were not to be left to settle the affairs of the universe in one
+morning. A handkerchief waved in the distance by a stoutish lady,
+interrupted. "There's Cousin Prue," Miss Bentley cried, springing to
+her feet.
+
+Hastily dividing her flowers into two bunches, she thrust one upon the
+Candy Man. "For your sick boy. You won't mind, as it isn't far. I have
+so enjoyed talking to you, Mr. McAllister. I shall hope to see you soon
+again. Aunt Eleanor often speaks of you."
+
+This sudden descent to the conventional greatly embarrassed the Candy
+Man, but he had no time for a word. Miss Bentley was off like a flash,
+across the grass, before he could collect his scattered wits. He looked
+after her, till, in company with the stout lady, she disappeared from
+view. Then with a whimsical expression on his countenance, he took a
+leather case from his breast pocket, and opening it glanced at one of
+the cards within. It was as if he doubted his own identity and wished
+to be reassured.
+
+The name engraved on the card was not McAllister, but Robert Deane
+Reynolds.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER THREE
+
+_In which the Little Red Chimney appears on the horizon, but without
+a clue to its importance. In which also the Candy Man has a glimpse of
+high life and is foolishly depressed by it._
+
+
+Starting from the Y.M.C.A. corner, walking up the avenue a block, then
+turning south, you came in a few steps to a modest grey house with a
+grass plat in front of it, a freshly reddened brick walk, and flower
+boxes in its windows. It was modest, not merely in the sense of being
+unpretentious, but also in that of a restrained propriety. You felt it
+to be a dwelling of character, wherein what should be done to-day, was
+never put off till to-morrow; where there was a place for everything and
+everything in it. Yet mingling with this propriety was an all-pervading
+cheer that appealed strongly to the homeless passerby.
+
+The grey house presented a gable end to the street, and stretched a
+wing comfortably on either side. In one of these was a glass door, with
+"Office Hours 10-1," which caused you to glance again at the sign on the
+iron gate: "Dr. Prudence Vandegrift."
+
+The other ell, which was of one story, had a double window, before
+which a rose bush grew, and when the blinds were up you had sometimes a
+glimpse of an opposite window, indicating that it was but one room deep.
+From its roof rose a small chimney that stood out from all the other
+chimneys, because, while they were grey like the house and its slate
+roof, it was red.
+
+Strolling by in a leisure hour the Candy Man had remarked it and
+wondered why, and found himself continuing to wonder. Somehow that
+little red chimney took hold on his imagination. It was a magical
+chimney, poetic, alluring, at once a cheering and a depressing little
+chimney, for it stirred him to delicious dreams, which, when they faded,
+left him forlorn.
+
+It was to Virginia he owed enlightenment. Virginia was the long-legged
+child who had fished Miss Bentley's bag from beneath the Candy Wagon,
+the indomitable leader of the Apartment House Pigeons, as the Candy Man
+had named them.
+
+The Apartment House did not exclude children, neither did it encourage
+them, and when their individual quarters became too contracted to
+contain their exuberance, they perforce sought the street. Like pigeons
+they would descend in a flock, here, there, everywhere; perching in a
+blissful row before the soda fountain in the drug store; or if the state
+of the public purse did not warrant this, the curbstone and the wares
+of the Candy Wagon were cheerfully substituted. By virtue no doubt of
+her long legs and masterful spirit, Virginia ruled the flock. Under her
+guidance they made existence a weariness to the several janitors on
+the block.
+
+As in defiance of law and order they circled one day on their roller
+skates, down the avenue and up the broad alley behind the Y.M.C.A.,
+round and round, Virginia issued her orders: "You all go on, I want to
+talk to the Candy Man."
+
+Being without as yet any theories, consistently democratic, she regarded
+him as a friend and brother. A state of society in which the position of
+Candy Man was next the throne, would have seemed perfectly logical to
+Virginia.
+
+[Illustration: VIRGINIA]
+
+"You don't look much like Tim," she volunteered, dangling her legs from
+the carriage block. Her hair was dark and severely bobbed; her miniature
+nose was covered with freckles, and she squinted a little.
+
+"No?" responded the Candy Man.
+
+"Tim was Irish," she continued.
+
+During business hours conversation of necessity took on a disjointed
+character. Unless you had great power of concentration you forgot in the
+intervals what you had been talking about. When a group of High School
+boys had been served and had gone their hilarious way Virginia began
+again. "You know the house with the Little Red Chimney?" she asked.
+
+The Candy Man did.
+
+"Well, a nice old man named Uncle Bob lives there, and I asked him why
+that chimney was red, and he said because it was new. A branch of a tree
+fell on the old one. The tree where the squirrel house is, you know."
+
+The Candy Man remembered the tree.
+
+"He said the doctor was going to have it painted, but he kind of liked
+it red, and so did her ladyship."
+
+"And who might her ladyship be?" the Candy Man inquired.
+
+"That's what I asked him, and he said, 'You come over and see,' and
+then he said--now listen to this, for it's just like a story." Virginia
+lifted an admonishing finger. "He said, whenever I saw smoke coming out
+of that Little Red Chimney, I might know her ladyship had come to town.
+You'd better believe I'm going to watch. And what do you think! I can
+see it from our dining-room window!" she concluded.
+
+"Most interesting," said the Candy Man politely, without the least idea
+how interesting it really was.
+
+Virginia's gaze suddenly fastened on a small book lying on the seat of
+the Candy Wagon, and she had seized it before its owner could protest.
+"What a funny name," she said. "'E p i c t e t u s.' What does that
+spell? And what made you cut a hole in this page? It looks like a
+window."
+
+The page was a fly leaf, from which a name, possibly that of a former
+owner, had been removed. Below it the Candy Man's own name was now
+written.
+
+"It was so when I got it," he answered, holding out his hand for it. He
+had no mind to have his book in any other keeping, for somewhere within
+its leaves lay a crimson flower.
+
+Before she returned it Virginia examined the back. "Vol. I, what does
+that mean?" she asked, and without waiting for an answer she tossed it
+back to him, and ran to join the other pigeons.
+
+From this time Virginia began to be almost as constant a visitor as
+the Reporter. She had a way of bursting into conversation without any
+preface whatever, speaking entirely from the fullness of her heart at
+the moment.
+
+"I'd give anything in the world to be pretty," she remarked one day,
+resting her school bag on the carriage block and sighing deeply.
+
+"But now honestly," said the Candy Man, regarding her gravely, "it seems
+to me you are a very nice-looking little girl, and who knows but you may
+turn out a great beauty some day? That is the way it happens in story
+books."
+
+Virginia returned his gaze steadily. "Do you really think there is any
+chance? You are not laughing?"
+
+He assured her he was intensely serious.
+
+"Well, you are the first person who ever told me that. Uncle Harry said,
+'Is it possible, Cornelia, that this is your child?' Cornelia is my
+mother, and she is a beauty. My brother is awfully good looking, too.
+Everybody thinks he ought to have been the girl. I'll tell you who I
+want to look like when I grow up. Don't you know that young lady who
+fell in the mud?"
+
+Oh, yes, the Candy Man knew, and applauded Virginia's ambition. He would
+have been pleased to enlarge on the subject, even to the extent of
+neglecting business, but just as she began to be interesting Virginia
+remembered an errand to the drug store, and ran away.
+
+That Sunday morning meeting with Miss Bentley had been reviewed by the
+Candy Man from every possible standpoint, and always, in conclusion,
+with the same questions. Could he have done otherwise? What would she
+think when she discovered her mistake? Who was his unknown double?
+
+The opportunity offering, he made some guarded inquiries of the
+Reporter.
+
+"Bentley?" repeated that gentleman, as he sharpened a bright yellow
+pencil. "Seem to have heard the name somewhere recently."
+
+It was a matter of no particular importance to the Candy Man. He had
+chanced to hear the name given to the conductor by the young lady who
+was thrown down the night of the accident, and wondered----
+
+The Reporter, who wasn't listening, here exclaimed: "I have it! It was
+this A.M. Maimie McHugh was interviewing Mrs. Gerrard Pennington over
+the office 'phone in regard to a luncheon she is giving this week in
+honour of her niece. Said niece's name me-thinks was Bentley. You will
+see it all in the social notes later. Covers for twelve, decorations in
+pink, La France roses, place cards from somewhere." He paused to laugh.
+"Maimie was doing it up brown, but she lacks tact. What does she do but
+ask for Miss Bentley's picture for the Saturday edition! I tried to stop
+her, but it was too late. You should have heard the 'phone buzz. 'My
+niece's picture in the _Evening Record_!' 'I don't care, mean old
+thing,' says Maimie, when she hung up. 'Nicer people than she is do it,
+and are glad to. 'That's all right, my honey,' I told her, 'but there
+are nice people and nice people, and it's up to you to know the variety
+you are dealing with, unless you like to be snubbed.' Still," the
+Reporter added reflectively, "Mrs. Gerrard Pennington and little McHugh
+can't afford to quarrel. After the luncheon Mrs. G.P. will probably send
+Maimie a pair of long white gloves, and when their pristine freshness
+has departed, Maimie will wear them to the office a time or two."
+
+The Candy Man wished to know who Mrs. Gerrard Pennington was, anyway.
+
+"She, my ignorant friend, is a four-ply Colonial Dame, so to speak.
+Distinguished grandfathers to burn, and the dough to support them,
+unlike another friend of mine who possessed every qualification needed
+to become a C.D. except on the clothes line."
+
+"The joke," observed the Candy Man, "is old, but worth repeating. But did
+I understand you to say _another_ friend? And am I to infer----?"
+
+"You are far too keen for a Candy Man," said the Reporter, laughing.
+"Mrs. G.P. is friendly with the wealthy branch of our family. She
+regards my Cousin Augustus as a son. Now I think of it, your Miss
+Bentley cannot be her niece. She could scarcely fall out of a street
+car. A victoria or a limousine would be necessary in her case."
+
+The Candy Man did not see his way clear to disclaim proprietorship in
+Miss Bentley, so let it pass. Certainly, on other grounds his Miss
+Bentley, to call her so, could not be Mrs. Gerrard Pennington's niece.
+Not that she lacked the charm to grace any position however high, but
+her simplicity and friendliness, the fact that she walked in the country
+with a stoutish relative who was intimate with the family of the park
+superintendent, the marketing he had witnessed, all went to prove his
+point.
+
+Yet on the occasion of a fashionable noon wedding at the stone church
+near the Y.M.C.A. corner, all this impressive evidence was brought to
+naught. In the crush of machines and carriages the Candy Wagon was all
+but engulfed in high life. When the crowd surged out after the bridal
+party, the congestion for a few minutes baffled the efforts of the corps
+of police.
+
+The Candy Man, looking on with much amusement at the well-dressed
+throng, presently received a thrill at the sound of a clear young voice
+exclaiming, "Here is the car, Aunt Eleanor--over here."
+
+The haughtiest of limousines had taken up its station just beyond the
+Candy Wagon, and toward this the owner of the voice was piloting a
+majestic and breathless personage. If the Candy Man could have doubted
+his ears, he could not doubt his eyes. Here was the grace, the sparkle,
+the everything that made her his Miss Bentley, the Girl of All
+Others--except the grey suit. Now she wore velvet, and wonderful white
+plumes framed her face and touched her bright hair. No, there was no
+mistaking her. Reviewing the evidence he found it baffling. That absurd
+exclamation about lighthouses alone might be taken as indicating an
+unfamiliarity with the humbler walks of life.
+
+The Reporter was at this time in daily attendance upon a convention in
+progress in a neighbouring hall, and he rarely failed to stop at the
+carriage block and pass the time of day on his way to and fro.
+
+"Ah ha!" he exclaimed, on one of these occasions, after perusing in
+silence the first edition of the _Evening Record_; "I see my Cousin
+Augustus, on his return from New York, is to give a dinner dance in
+honour of Mrs. Gerrard Pennington's niece."
+
+"I appreciate your innocent pride in Cousin Augustus, but may I inquire
+if by chance he possesses another name?" The Candy Man spoke with
+uncalled-for asperity.
+
+"Sure," responded the Reporter, with a quizzical glance at his
+questioner; "several of 'em. Augustus Vincent McAllister is what he
+calls himself every day."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER FOUR
+
+_In which the Candy Man again sees the Grey Suit, and Virginia
+continues the story of the Little Red Chimney._
+
+
+It was Saturday afternoon, possibly the very next Saturday, or at most
+the Saturday after that, and the Candy Wagon was making money. The day
+of the week was unmistakable, for the working classes were getting home
+early; fathers of families with something extra for Sunday in paper bags
+under their arms. And the hat boxes! They passed the Candy Man's corner
+by the hundreds. Every feminine person in the big apartment houses must
+be intending to wear a new hat to-morrow.
+
+There was something special going on at the Country Club--the Candy Man
+had taken to reading the social column--and the people of leisure and
+semi-leisure were to be well represented there, to judge by the machines
+speeding up the avenue; among them quite probably Miss Bentley and Mr.
+Augustus McAllister.
+
+This not altogether pleasing reflection had scarcely taken shape in his
+mind, when, in the act of handing change to a customer, he beheld Miss
+Bentley coming toward him; without a doubt his Miss Bentley this time,
+for she wore the grey suit and the felt hat, jammed down any way on her
+bright hair and pinned with the pinkish quill. She was not alone. By
+her side walked a rather shabby, elderly man, with a rosy face, whose
+pockets bulged with newspapers, and who carried a large parcel. She was
+looking at him and he was looking at her, and they were both laughing.
+Comradeship of the most delightful kind was indicated.
+
+Without a glance in the direction of the Candy Wagon they passed. Well,
+at any rate she wasn't at the Country Club. But how queer!
+
+Earlier in the afternoon Virginia had gone by in dancing-school array,
+accompanied by an absurdly youthful mother. "I've got something to tell
+you," she called, and the Candy Man could see her being reproved for
+this unseemly familiarity.
+
+His curiosity was but mildly stirred; indeed, having other things to
+think of, he had quite forgotten the incident, when on Monday she
+presented herself swinging her school bag.
+
+"Say," she began, "I have found out about her Ladyship and the Little
+Red Chimney."
+
+"Oh, have you?" he answered vaguely.
+
+Virginia, resting her bag on the carriage block, looked disappointed.
+"I have been crazy to tell you, and now you don't care a bit."
+
+"Indeed I do," the Candy Man protested. "I'm a trifle absent-minded,
+that's all."
+
+Thus reassured she began: "Don't you know I told you I could see
+that chimney from our dining-room, and that I was going to watch it?
+Well, the other day at lunch I happened to look toward the window, and
+I jumped right out of my chair and clapped my hands and said, 'It's
+smoking, it's smoking!' There was company, and mother said, 'Good
+gracious, Virginia! what's smoking? You do make me so nervous!' Then
+I was sorry I'd said anything, because she wouldn't understand, you
+know. Well, after lunch I took one of Ted's balls, and went over to
+Uncle Bob's, and I got a little darkey boy to throw it in the yard, and
+then I went in to look for it. You see if Uncle Bob wasn't there and
+anybody asked me what I was doing, I could say I was looking for my
+brother's ball."
+
+"I fear you are a deep one," remarked the Candy Man.
+
+"No, I'm not, but I'm rather good at thinking of things," Virginia owned
+complacently. "And then," she continued, "I poked around the rose bush,
+and peeped in at the window, and sure enough she was there, brushing the
+hearth. She saw me and came to the window, and when I ran away, 'cause
+I thought maybe she was mad, she rapped, and then opened the window and
+called: 'Come in, little girl, and talk to me.' And now who do you think
+she turned out to be?"
+
+A suspicion had been deepening in the Candy Man's breast for the last
+few moments. His heart actually thumped. "Not--you don't mean----?"
+
+Virginia nodded violently. "Yes, the lady who fell and got muddy. And
+she's perfectly lovely, and I'm going there again. She asked me to."
+
+Why, oh, why should such luck fall to the lot of a long-legged,
+freckle-nosed little girl, and not to him, the Candy Man wondered.
+He burned to ask innumerable questions, but compromised on one. Did
+Virginia know whether or not she had come to stay?
+
+"Why, I guess so. She didn't have her hat on, and she was cleaning
+up--dusting, you know, and taking things out of a box."
+
+"What sort of things?"
+
+"Books and sofa pillows and pictures. I helped her, and by and by Uncle
+Bob came in."
+
+"And what did he say?" asked the Candy Man, just to keep her going.
+
+"Why, he said, didn't he tell me so? And wasn't it great to have her
+ladyship there?"
+
+"And what did her ladyship say?"
+
+"She said he was a dear, and I forget what else. Oh, but listen! I'll
+bet you can't guess what her name is."
+
+He couldn't. He had racked his brain for a name at once sweet enough and
+possessing sufficient dignity. He had not found it for the good reason
+that no such name has been invented.
+
+"It's a long name," said Virginia, "as long as mine. I am named for
+my grandmother, Mary Virginia, but they don't call me all of it." She
+paused to watch two white-plumed masons on their way to the commandery
+on the next block.
+
+"Well?" said the Candy Man.
+
+She laughed. "Oh, I forgot. Why, it is Margaret Elizabeth. The doctor
+came in; she's a lady doctor, you know, and said, 'Margaret Elizabeth,
+there'll be muffins for tea.' And she said, 'All right. Dr. Prue.' And
+Dr. Prue said, 'And cherry preserves, if you and Uncle Bob want them,'
+and Margaret Elizabeth said, 'Goody!' And I must go now," Virginia
+finished. "There's Betty looking for me."
+
+Virginia might go and welcome. He had enough to occupy his thought for
+the present. Margaret Elizabeth! Such a name would never have suggested
+itself to him, yet it suited her. Beneath her young gaiety and charm
+there was something the name fitted. Margaret Elizabeth! He loved it
+already.
+
+Why had he not guessed that the Little Red Chimney belonged to her?
+Had not the sight of it stirred his heart? And why should that have been
+so, except for some subtle fairy godmother suggestion? The picture of
+Margaret Elizabeth and Uncle Bob eating cherry preserves was a pleasant
+one. It brought her nearer. The Candy Man was inclined to like Uncle
+Bob, to think of him as a broad-minded person whose prejudices against
+Candy Men, granting he had them, might in time be overcome.
+
+From being a bit low in his mind, the Candy Man's mood became positively
+jovial. When the sad grey man known to the children as the Miser, and
+invested with mysterious and awful powers, stopped to buy some hoarhound
+drops, he wished him a cheery good afternoon.
+
+The Miser was evidently surprised, but responded courteously, and
+recalling the accident of two weeks ago, asked if the Candy Man had
+heard anything of the injured chauffeur.
+
+It chanced that he had heard the Reporter say, only yesterday, that the
+man was doing well and likely to recover.
+
+"And the young lady? I think I saw her the other day going into a house
+across the street from my own."
+
+"The house with the Little Red Chimney?" asked the Candy Man
+indiscreetly, forgetting himself for the moment.
+
+A smile slowly dawned on the face of the sad man, but quickly faded, as
+a flock of naughty pigeons tore by, screaming, "Lizer, Lizer, look out
+for the Miser!" If he had been about to make a comment, he thought
+better of it, and turned away.
+
+Having identified the Little Red Chimney as the property of the Girl
+of All Others, the Candy Man now made a new discovery. He had a room
+in one of the old residences of the neighbourhood, so many of which in
+these days were being given over to boarding and lodging. Its windows
+overlooked a back yard, in which grew a great ash, and he had been
+interested to observe how long after other trees were bare this one kept
+its foliage. He found it one morning, however, giving up its leaves by
+the wholesale, under the touch of a sharp frost; and, wonder of wonders!
+through its bared branches that magical chimney came into view, with a
+corner of grey roof.
+
+Not far away rose the big smoke stack belonging to the apartment houses,
+impressive in its loftiness, but to his fancy the Little Red Chimney
+held its own with dignity, standing for something unattainable by great
+smoke stacks, however important.
+
+The Candy Man, it will be seen, did not attempt to reconcile conflicting
+evidence. He took what suited him and ignored the rest. Was Miss Bentley
+the niece of Mrs. Gerrard Pennington? She was also the niece of Uncle
+Bob. Did she ride in haughty limousines? She also rode in street cars.
+Was she wined and dined by the rich? She also ate muffins and cherry
+preserves, and brushed up the hearth of the Little Red Chimney.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER FIVE
+
+_In which the double life led by the heroine is explained, and
+Augustus McAllister proves an alibi._
+
+
+"Yes," said Miss Bentley, "I liked him. He turned out to be altogether
+different from my first impressions. That afternoon at the Country
+Club he seemed rather stiff--nice, assured manners, of course, but
+unresponsive. But then the way in which we bounced in upon each other
+was enough to break any amount of ice." She laughed at the recollection,
+clasping her hands behind her head.
+
+Instead of the little grey hat jammed down anyhow, she wore this morning
+the most bewitching and frivolous of boudoir caps upon her bright head,
+and a shimmery, lacy empire something, that clung caressingly about her,
+and fell back becomingly from her round white arms. Miles and miles away
+from the Candy Wagon was Margaret Elizabeth, who had so recently
+hobnobbed down the avenue with Uncle Bob.
+
+Mrs. Gerrard Pennington, in a similar garb, leaned an elbow on her desk,
+a dainty French trifle, and gazed, perhaps a bit wistfully, at Margaret
+Elizabeth's endearing young charms. "I am delighted that you like
+Augustus. He is a young man of sterling qualities. His mother and I were
+warm friends; I take a deep interest in him. Of course he is not showy;
+perhaps he might be called a little slow; but he is substantial, and
+while I should be the last to place an undue emphasis upon wealth, one
+need not overlook its advantages. Augustus has had unusual
+opportunities."
+
+"Is Mr. McAllister rich?" Margaret Elizabeth dropped her arms in a
+surprise which in its turn stirred a like emotion in her aunt's breast,
+for Miss Bentley put rather a peculiar emphasis, it would seem, upon the
+word rich. "I should never have guessed it," she added.
+
+If Mrs. Pennington had been perfectly honest with herself, she would
+have perceived that her own surprise indicated a suspicion that minus
+his wealth the aforesaid sterling qualities were something of a dead
+weight, but not for worlds would she have owned this. It would be a
+great thing for Margaret Elizabeth, if she liked him. If she could be
+the means of establishing dear old Richard's child in a position such
+as the future Mrs. Augustus would occupy, she would feel she had done
+her full duty. Mrs. Pennington was strong in the matter of duty.
+
+"I should never have guessed it," Margaret Elizabeth repeated, after a
+minute spent in a quick review of that talk in the summer house.
+
+"It is not always possible, surely, to gauge a person's bank account in
+the course of one conversation," her aunt suggested.
+
+"I don't mean that; but don't you think, Aunt Eleanor, you can usually
+tell very rich people? They are apt to be limited, in a way. Not always,
+of course, but often. I can't explain it exactly. Perhaps it is
+over-refined."
+
+"If to be refined is to be limited, I prefer to be limited," Mrs.
+Pennington remarked.
+
+It was plain that unless Margaret Elizabeth went to the length of
+retailing the whole of that Sunday morning conversation, which was out
+of the question, she could not hope to make her meaning clear.
+
+"What surprises me," her aunt went on, "is that you should have met
+Augustus in a public park. It is very unlike him. I wonder what he
+thought of you?"
+
+This brought out Miss Bentley's dimples, as she owned he had seemed not
+displeased to meet her. "I explained that I was waiting for Dr. Prue,
+who had gone in to see one of the superintendent's children." She
+further assured her aunt that River Bend Park was a delightful place in
+which to enjoy nature, on Sunday morning or any other time.
+
+"I confess I do not choose a public park when I wish to enjoy
+nature--except for driving, of course. Perhaps," added Mrs. Pennington,
+"that is what you call over-refined."
+
+Margaret Elizabeth considered this thoughtfully. "Perhaps it is," she
+said. "Not being able to enjoy things that are free to everybody."
+
+But Margaret Elizabeth in that frivolously-becoming cap was an antidote
+to her own remarks. Mrs. Pennington smiled indulgently. Richard's
+daughter came honestly by some eccentricities, not to mention those
+Vandegrifts, whose influence she greatly deplored.
+
+"You will outgrow these socialistic ideas, my dear," she said. "But
+I am still puzzled, the more I think of it, at your meeting Augustus on
+Sunday morning. Was it two weeks ago? I am under the impression he left
+for New York that very day."
+
+"He didn't mention it, but there are afternoon trains," answered
+Margaret Elizabeth. "He merely said something about a sick boy he was
+going to see at St. Mary's."
+
+This again was very unlike Augustus, but Mrs. Pennington said no more.
+Meanwhile the faintest shadow of a doubt was dawning in her niece's
+mind; so shadowy she was scarcely aware of it, until, glowing from her
+walk across the park, she entered the drawing-room that afternoon.
+
+There is, by the way, a difference between walking in Sunset Park, the
+abode of the elect, with a huge St. Bernard in leash, and taking the
+same exercise at River Bend, unchaperoned save by a chance guard. Any
+right-minded person must see this.
+
+A young man, who sat talking to Mrs. Gerrard Pennington before the fire,
+rose at her entrance.
+
+"I am glad you have come, Margaret Elizabeth," her aunt exclaimed.
+"I think you know Mr. McAllister? But we have rather a good joke on
+you, for August says he was never in his life in River Bend Park."
+
+"How do you do, Miss Bentley. Awfully glad to see you. That is, except
+to motor through, don't you know, Mrs. Pennington."
+
+Miss Bentley's brown eyes met Mr. McAllister's blue ones, and in the
+period of one brief glance she experienced almost as many sensations,
+and reviewed as much past history, as the proverbial drowning man.
+The casual resemblance was striking. But the eyes--these were not the
+friendly, merry eyes to which she had confided the fairy godmother
+nonsense. Fancy so much as mentioning fairy godmothers in the presence
+of these steely orbs.
+
+Margaret Elizabeth was game, however.
+
+"I was mistaken, of course," she owned lightly, as she shook hands.
+"I have met so many people, and am stupid at connecting names and faces.
+I recall Mr. McAllister perfectly." And straightway she plunged into
+New York and what was going on there. Had he seen "Grumpy" and wasn't it
+dear? And so on, and so on. Margaret Elizabeth could talk, and more than
+this she could look bewitching, and did, when she slipped out of her
+long coat, and with many graceful upward motions, removed her hat and
+fluffed her hair.
+
+She would make tea, she loved to, in fact she seemed bent upon luring
+Augustus away from the fire and Mrs. Pennington. This young gentleman,
+whose mental processes were not rapid, and who habitually overworked any
+idea that found lodgment in his mind, was disposed to dwell upon River
+Bend Park and Miss Bentley's strange mistake in thinking she had seen
+him there, when actually, don't you know, he was on his way to New York.
+It was just as well not to have the situation complicated by the
+presence of her more alert relative, whose amused glances kept the glow
+on Margaret Elizabeth's cheek at a most becoming pitch. Perhaps, too,
+the subconscious thinking concerning that same queer mistake, which went
+on while she chatted so gaily, so skilfully leading the way to safer
+ground, had something to do with it.
+
+Augustus, unaware that he was led, was as clay in her hands. He warmed
+to her expressions of pleasure in the proposed dinner dance, which were
+indeed entirely genuine. A dance was a dance, and Miss Bentley was
+young. As she poured tea her curling lashes rested now on her cheek,
+were now lifted in smiling glances at the complacent Augustus, much as
+when on a certain Sunday morning, while softly laying bloom against
+bloom, her eyes had now and again met the eyes of the Candy Man. There
+were other callers, other tea drinkers, but to none did Mr. McAllister
+surrender his place of vantage.
+
+"If she keeps on like this, Augustus is hers--if she wants him,"
+Mr. Gerrard Pennington remarked to his wife later in the evening.
+
+"If I could have her all to myself," Mrs. Pennington sighed; "but any
+impression I may make is neutralised by her association with those
+Vandegrifts. It is an absurd arrangement, spending half her time down
+there."
+
+"I think you are rather in the lead, aren't you, my dear?"
+
+Mrs. Pennington shrugged her shoulders, but there was some triumph in
+her smile. "She is a dear child, in spite of some absurd notions, and
+I long to see her well and safely settled. I don't quite know in what
+her charm most lies, but she has it."
+
+"Oh, it's her youth, and the conviction that it is all so jolly well
+worth while. She is so keen about everything." There was an odd twinkle
+in Mr. Pennington's eyes, usually so piercing beneath their bushy grey
+brows. Margaret Elizabeth called him Uncle Gerry. It was amusing. He
+liked it, and enjoyed playing the part of Uncle Gerry. "Of course she's
+bound to get over that. Still, I shouldn't be in any haste to settle
+her."
+
+His wife thought of her brother, the Professor of Archaeology, now in
+the Far East. "It is queer, but Dick never has," she said, answering
+the first part of his sentence. But when she spoke again, it was to
+say energetically: "The Towers needs a mistress, and August is
+irreproachable. Really, I am devoted to the boy."
+
+Mr. Pennington found this amusing.
+
+"If only it were a colonial house. It is handsome, but I prefer simpler
+lines," Mrs. Pennington continued meditatively.
+
+The Towers was a combination of feudal castle and Swiss chalet erected
+thirty years before by the parents of Augustus, and occupying a
+commanding position on Sunset Ridge. The irreverent sometimes referred
+to it as the Salt Shakers.
+
+Margaret Elizabeth meanwhile, in the solitude of her own room, was
+asking herself questions, for which she found no answers.
+
+"Who--oh, who was this person with the nice friendly eyes that led one
+on to talk about fairy godmothers?"
+
+She considered it in profound seriousness for a time, then suddenly
+broke into unrestrained laughter.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER SIX
+
+_In which Margaret Elizabeth is discussed at the Breakfast Table; in
+which also, later on, she and Virginia and Uncle Bob talk before the
+fire, and in which finally Margaret Elizabeth seeks consolation by
+relating to Uncle Bob her adventure in the park._
+
+
+"No, she is not regularly beautiful," remarked Dr. Prue in her
+diagnostician manner as she poured her father's second cup of coffee,
+"but there is much that is captivating about her. Her hair grows
+prettily on her forehead, the firmness of her chin, the line of her lips
+in repose----"
+
+"Mercy on us! You talk like a novel," interrupted Uncle Bob, who was
+longing to get in an oar. "Now I like her best when she laughs."
+
+"But I was speaking of her face in repose."
+
+"And any way," persisted Uncle Bob, "if she isn't a beauty, I don't know
+what you call it. She has the witchingest ways!"
+
+"We were speaking of features, not ways. If you dissect her----"
+
+"Good Heavens, Prue! Find another word."
+
+"If you dissect her," the doctor repeated firmly, "you will find nothing
+remarkable in her separate features."
+
+"But I insist," Uncle Bob spoke in a loud tone, and brought his fist
+down so emphatically his coffee spilled over into the saucer, "that
+beauty is a complex thing consisting of ways as well as features."
+The sentence was concluded in a milder tone, owing to the coffee.
+
+"Nancy, give Mr. Vandegrift another saucer," said Dr. Prue.
+
+"My dear, there is no need. I can pour this back," he protested. Then, a
+fresh saucer having been substituted, he went on: "Take a landscape----"
+
+"I haven't time for landscapes this morning, father. I am due at the
+hospital at nine. You'll have to excuse me."
+
+"Well, what I was going to say is, that it is the combination of all
+her separate qualities and characteristics, manifested in ways and
+otherwise, that is beautiful--that constitutes beauty. The something
+that makes her Margaret Elizabeth, that subtle--" Uncle Bob was talking
+against time.
+
+"Now, father," Dr. Prue pushed back her chair and rose, "there is
+nothing subtle about Margaret Elizabeth, and you know it. She is a
+thoroughly nice, quite pretty girl, and that is all there is to it. If
+those Penningtons don't spoil her." With this the doctor disappeared.
+
+"Miss Prue and her pa do argufy to beat the band," Nancy remarked to
+Jenny the cook as she waited for hot cakes.
+
+"That's all, Nancy. I shan't want any more," her master told her when
+she carried them into the dining-room. "You needn't wait." As the door
+closed behind her he smiled to himself. He always enjoyed the leisurely
+comfort of those last cakes.
+
+The morning sun shone in brightly, emphasising the pleasant, substantial
+appointments of the room and the breakfast table. Its glint in the old
+silver coffee pot was a joy to him; the unopened paper at his elbow
+spoke to him of the interests of a day, like it, not yet unfolded. Uncle
+Bob after his own fashion savoured life....
+
+[Illustration: DR. PRUE]
+
+The sun had travelled around the house and was looking in at the west
+window of the Little Red Chimney Room, when Virginia discovered her
+ladyship sitting on a low stool by her hearthstone deep in meditation.
+"I saw the smoke," she announced, "so I thought I'd come over."
+
+"I am glad to see you," Margaret Elizabeth said, waking up. "But what
+smoke do you mean?" And now it developed that although Miss Bentley was
+of course aware of the Little Red Chimney, and indeed preferred it red,
+she had not understood its significance.
+
+In amused interest she listened while Virginia explained. "That dear,
+ridiculous Uncle Bob!" she cried, hugging her knees. "And what fun,
+Virginia!"
+
+Virginia nodded. "Like a fairy-tale," she said.
+
+"So it is," Miss Bentley agreed, and became again lost in thought.
+
+From the other side of the hearth Virginia watched her. Her ladyship
+to-day wore a grey-blue gown with a broad white collar, and she
+contrasted harmoniously with the soft browns and greens of her
+surroundings. Uncle Bob should have been there to enjoy the glint of
+the sunshine in her hair.
+
+It was an unobtrusive room, abounding in pleasant suggestions if you sat
+still and let them sink in: books around the walls, a few water colours
+and bits of porcelain, an open piano, a work table, a broad divan with
+many cushions, ferns in the windows, and the fire.
+
+Virginia, however, saw nothing of this; she was looking at Margaret
+Elizabeth. "The Candy Man wanted to know where you stayed when you
+weren't here," she remarked at length.
+
+Miss Bentley came out of her brown study in great surprise. Who in the
+world was the Candy Man?
+
+"Why, you know the Candy Wagon on the Y.M.C.A. corner! And don't you
+remember how you fell in the mud, and the Candy Man helped you up, and
+I gave you your bag, and the Miser was there too?" Virginia spoke in
+patient toleration of Miss Bentley's strange lapse of memory.
+
+"Naturally I was rather shaken and didn't notice. Was it a Candy Man who
+picked me up? And a miser, you say?" Chin in hand Margaret Elizabeth
+regarded her visitor. "It is all very interesting, but why should the
+Candy Man wish to know about me?"
+
+Virginia owned that she had mentioned the Little Red Chimney to him,
+and that when the identity of her ladyship had come to light, he had
+exclaimed, "I might have guessed!"
+
+"Well, really," said Miss Bentley, sitting up very straight, "what
+business is it of his to be guessing about me?"
+
+"He isn't Irish like Tim," Virginia hastened to assure her. "He's very
+nice. He's a friend of mine."
+
+Margaret Elizabeth laughed. "That makes it all right, I suppose; and if
+he picked me up--But who is the Miser?"
+
+"He lives over there," Virginia pointed toward the front window, "in
+that stone house with the vine on it. Aleck says he has rooms and rooms
+full of money."
+
+The house she indicated was almost black with time and soot, but its
+fine proportions suggested spacious, high-ceiled rooms, and whatever its
+present condition, a past of dignity and importance.
+
+"How extremely interesting! What a remarkable neighbourhood this seems
+to be!"
+
+"Is it like a fairy-tale where you stay when you aren't here?" Virginia
+asked.
+
+Sudden illumination came to Margaret Elizabeth. "That is just what it
+isn't," she cried. "It's splendid and beautiful, and all sorts of
+things, except a fairy-tale. I wonder why? I love fairy-tales and Little
+Red Chimneys."
+
+"So does the Candy Man," exclaimed Virginia, charmed at the coincidence.
+"It must be fun to be a Candy Man," she continued. "It isn't much like
+a fairy-tale where I live. I should like to live in a sure-enough house
+with stairs."
+
+"You talk like a squirrel who lives in a tree. And speaking of squirrels,
+you and I must buy some nuts for our bunny sometime, from this Candy
+Man. If he picked me up I suppose I ought to patronise him. All the
+same, Virginia," and now Miss Bentley spoke with great seriousness,
+"I wish you not to say anything about me to him. It is rather silly,
+you know."
+
+Virginia did not know, but she longed to do in every particular what
+Miss Bentley desired, so she promised.
+
+The opal lights in the western sky were the only reminders left of the
+sunny day, when Uncle Bob, seated comfortably in the big armchair,
+listened to Margaret Elizabeth's confession, the flames dancing and
+curling around a fresh log meanwhile. In size it was but a modest log,
+for the fireplace was neither wide nor deep like those at Pennington
+Park, but the Little Red Chimney did its part so merrily and well that
+upon no other hearth could the flames dance and curl so gaily. At least
+so it had seemed to Margaret Elizabeth, sitting there chin in hand,
+after Virginia's departure.
+
+"And you are certain you never met him before?" Uncle Bob ran his
+fingers through his hair and frowned thoughtfully.
+
+"Perfectly certain. You see the resemblance was remarkable, all but
+the eyes, and I thought Mr. McAllister had simply waked up. People
+are sometimes stiff when you first meet them. He knew who I was, for
+he called me Miss Bentley. Naturally I thought it was some one I had
+met--particularly when he mentioned the accident. You see, in getting
+out of the machine at the Country Club a day or two before I caught
+my skirt in the door and fell, striking my elbow. It didn't amount to
+anything, though it hurt for a minute, but Aunt Eleanor made a great
+fuss. He may have been somewhere about at the time, but I didn't meet
+him. And it makes me furious," Margaret Elizabeth continued, "when
+I think of his not telling me."
+
+"Telling you that you didn't know him?" asked Uncle Bob.
+
+"Certainly, he should have said at the very beginning, 'Miss Bentley,
+you are mistaken in thinking you know me.'"
+
+"Ha! ha!" laughed Uncle Bob.
+
+"Now what are you laughing at?" his niece demanded. "Honestly, don't you
+think he should have?" But she laughed herself.
+
+"Well, perhaps," he owned, reflecting, however, that if Margaret
+Elizabeth looked half so alluring that morning as she did now in her
+grey-blue frock, with her bright hair a bit tumbled, it was asking a
+good deal of human nature.
+
+"Now, of course, Uncle Bob, this is strictly confidential. I wouldn't
+have Dr. Prue know for the world. It is bad enough to have Aunt Eleanor
+smiling sarcastically, though she doesn't know half. I think I have at
+length quieted her, and the great Augustus is entirely mollified." She
+paused to laugh again, then continued tragically, "Sympathy is what I
+need now. To begin with, it was the most perfect day--the sort to make
+you forget tiresome conventions."
+
+Uncle Bob nodded. "Perhaps he forgot, too," he suggested.
+
+Margaret Elizabeth bit her lip. "That's true. I must try to be fair.
+He had nice eyes, Uncle Bob--with a twinkle in them." A smile played
+over her lips, her dimple came and went. She gazed absently at the
+curling flame. Suddenly she rose from her ottoman, and seated herself
+bolt upright on the sofa with one of the plumpest cushions behind her.
+"All the same it was inexcusable in me," she declared sternly.
+
+"What was?" asked her uncle.
+
+"The nonsense I talked. About a Fairy Godmother Society! No doubt he was
+laughing in his sleeve all the time."
+
+"Oh, I guess not. It sounds quite original and interesting. Have you
+copyrighted the idea?"
+
+"Uncle Bob, you are a dear. Some time I'll tell you all about it--when
+I get over feeling so terribly, if I ever do."
+
+"Now, really," insisted Uncle Bob, "I don't see why you should worry.
+You are almost certain to meet him again, and----"
+
+"I shall die if I do," Margaret Elizabeth declared; but somehow the
+assertion failed to ring true.
+
+"From what you have said he is plainly a gentleman, and altogether
+matters might be worse," Uncle Bob concluded.
+
+Miss Bentley shook her head. "I don't see how they could be," she
+insisted.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER SEVEN
+
+_Shows how the Candy Wagon is visited in behalf of the Squirrel, and
+how pride suffers a fall; how Miss Bentley turns to Vedantic Philosophy
+to drown her annoyance, and discovers how hard it is to forget when you
+wish to._
+
+
+"When I reflect upon the small weight attaching to true worth
+unsupported by personal charm, I am tempted to turn cynic."
+
+Dr. Prue closed her bag with a snap and lifted her arms to adjust a
+hatpin.
+
+"Youth and beauty take the trick, that's a fact." Uncle Bob laughed as
+if he found it a delicious comedy.
+
+They stood before the office window. At the gate the Apartment Pigeons
+were fluttering around Margaret Elizabeth, while her ladyship gravely
+admonished them for some piece of mischief.
+
+"I believe she is taming the terrors," remarked the doctor.
+
+"She had them all in the other afternoon," said Uncle Bob, "sitting
+cross-legged on the floor like little Orientals, while she told them
+stories. Margaret Elizabeth can manage them!" His tone thrilled with
+pride.
+
+"Yes, and Miss Kitty Molloy will drop anything she has on hand to work
+for Miss Bentley; the market-man picks out his choicest fruit for her;
+and so it goes, if you call it managing. Well, I must be off. Good-by."
+
+As Dr. Prue went out, Margaret Elizabeth, having dismissed the pigeons
+for the time being, came in, and sat down at her desk to finish a
+letter.
+
+She wrote: "Yes, Uncle Bob and Cousin Prue argue as much as ever, and
+I suspect that more often than not I am the subject upon which they
+disagree. I am in a state of disagreement about myself, father dear.
+Society is absorbing beyond anything I dreamed of, and if I had not
+promised you to stop and think for at least ten minutes out of the
+fourteen hundred and forty, I fear I should have already become a real
+Society Person."
+
+At this point Uncle Bob looked in. "Well, how many parties on hand now?"
+he asked.
+
+Margaret Elizabeth laid down her pen and counted them off on her
+fingers, beginning with a tea at five, theatre and supper afterward, and
+so on, till the supply of fingers threatened to become exhausted.
+
+"Go on, I'll lend you mine," said Uncle Bob. "Prue says," he added,
+"that it is enough to kill you, but you look pretty strong."
+
+"She wouldn't mind if I worked my fingers to the bone for her hospital
+or the Suffrage Association, but I want a little fun first, Uncle Bob."
+Margaret Elizabeth supported an adorable chin in a pink palm and
+regarded her relative appealingly.
+
+"That's what I tell Prue. It is natural you should like best to stay at
+Pennington Park, and go about in a splendid machine. I don't blame you
+in the least, and I don't wish you to feel bound to come down here when
+you don't really care to. Much as I love to have you, I shall not be
+hurt." Uncle Bob nodded at Margaret Elizabeth with a reassuring smile
+that in spite of intentions was a bit wistful too.
+
+"I don't believe you understand, and for that matter, neither do I. I
+love you best, and the Little Red Chimney, and this darling room. There
+aren't any fairies at Pennington Park, but--I do like the whirl, the
+fun, the pretty things, and----"
+
+"The admiration, Margaret Elizabeth; out with it. You'll feel better,"
+said Uncle Bob.
+
+"Well, yes, people _do_ like me, and oh, I must show you
+something!" She sprang up, and from a box lying on the sofa she took a
+filmy, rose-coloured fabric. "What do you think of this?" she demanded,
+shaking out the shimmering folds before his surprised eyes.
+
+He rose nobly to the occasion. "Why, it looks like a sunset cloud. Is it
+to wear?"
+
+"Certainly. It is a pattern robe. Miss Kitty across the street is going
+to put it together for me. She is a genius. Sunset cloud is very poetic.
+Thank you, Uncle Bob. And now I must finish my letter before I go over
+to Miss Kitty's, and then I promised the children I'd go with them to
+buy some nuts for the squirrel. A bunny who has the courage to live so
+far downtown should be rewarded. I wish you had been here, Uncle Bob, to
+join our society." Margaret Elizabeth sat down with the rosy cloud all
+about her, and laughed at the recollection. "Never again will they throw
+a stone at his bunnyship. We laid our hands together so, and swore by
+the paw of the cinnamon bear and the ear of the tailless cat, to take
+the part of our brother beasts and birds. It was all on the spur of the
+moment, or I might have done better, but they were impressed."
+
+[Illustration: UNCLE BOB]
+
+"I should think so, indeed," remarked her uncle. "You are a sort of
+philanthropist after all."
+
+"Yes, I have a very marked bump. That reminds me, if I don't see Dr.
+Prue, you tell her, please, that I am going to take Augustus McAllister
+to the Suffrage meeting."
+
+Having returned her robe to its box, Miss Bentley sat down at her desk
+and wrote furiously for five minutes, then folded her letter, put it
+in the envelope, and addressed, stamped, and sealed it, concluding the
+business with a resolute fist. Shortly after, in the familiar grey suit,
+with the little grey hat jammed down anyhow on her bright hair, she went
+forth, the box containing the sunset cloud under her arm.
+
+Homage and admiration attended upon her within Miss Kitty's humble
+establishment, and waited outside in the persons of the adoring pigeons.
+Virginia, having been unable to keep the story of the Little Red Chimney
+to herself, must now in consequence share her ladyship with the flock.
+But certain privileges were hers--to walk next to Miss Bentley and clasp
+her disengaged hand; to carry her bag or book; to act as her prime
+minister in keeping order.
+
+Thus Miss Bentley went her triumphant way that afternoon, all
+unconscious that there was any triumph about it. Not that she was wholly
+unaware of her own charm. As she confessed to Uncle Bob, she knew people
+liked her, and the knowledge was pleasing. She was now on her way to be
+gracious to the Candy Man, and in this connection she had rehearsed a
+neat little scene in which she stood by and allowed the children to make
+their purchases, and then at the right moment asked easily if there had
+been any more accidents on the corner of late, adding something about
+his kindness in helping her up, and so on. The Candy Man would of course
+touch his cap, for from Virginia's account he was rather a nice Candy
+Man, and reply, "Not at all, Miss," or "That's all right"; then she
+would smile upon him and the incident would be closed.
+
+The first half of the scene went off perfectly. The Candy Man was
+selling taffy to a nurse-maid when they approached, and if he saw who
+was coming, and if his heart was in his mouth, and if he felt a wild
+longing to escape from the Candy Wagon, he gave no sign. To Margaret
+Elizabeth, as they waited, he was a Candy Man in white jacket and cap,
+and nothing more.
+
+The pigeons fluttered joyously. Miss Bentley uttered an impersonal good
+afternoon, Virginia advanced, a silver quarter in her palm, and demanded
+chestnuts for the squirrel. The bag was filled and held out to her, and
+as she handed over the quarter in exchange she explained, gratuitously,
+"We'll perhaps eat _some_ of them ourselves."
+
+At this the Candy Man looked up with a smile in his eyes, and met the
+glance of Miss Bentley, who immediately forgot all she had intended to
+say, for these were the eyes that were not the eyes of Augustus. There
+was no excuse for arguing the question. She knew it.
+
+The point was, after all, Margaret Elizabeth concluded in the solitude
+of her own hearth-stone, not whether she had been equal to the occasion
+to-day--and she hadn't--but that he on a former occasion had been guilty
+of base behaviour. If this were a real Candy Man, one might excuse him,
+but he plainly was not. There was a mystery, and she loathed mysteries.
+She was annoyed to the point of exasperation. She would dismiss him from
+her mind now and forever.
+
+Uncle Bob, reading the evening paper in the dining-room while Nancy set
+the table, admitting as she passed back and forth an occasional savoury
+odor from the kitchen region, became aware of sounds in the hall which
+betokened some one descending the stairs in haste. The next moment
+Margaret Elizabeth stood in the doorway.
+
+"Uncle Bob," she said, as she drew a long white glove over her elbow,
+her face shadowed by her plumy hat, "you remember you said it might be
+worse, and I insisted it couldn't be? You were right, it is infinitely
+worse."
+
+With this she was gone, and a premonitory buzz of great dignity and
+reserve from the street presently indicated that she was being borne
+away in the Pennington car.
+
+And now it was that Miss Bentley discovered how impossible it is to
+forget when you wish to. You may assist a treacherous memory with a
+memorandum, but no corresponding resource offers when you wish to
+forget. You may succeed in diverting your thoughts for a time, but
+sooner or later, ten to one, in the most illogical manner, the very
+thing you seek to avoid forces itself upon your attention. What could
+have seemed further away from the Candy Man than ancient Hindoo
+Philosophy? And into this she plunged to drown her annoyance, and
+incidentally help a fellow member of the Tuesday Club. Margaret
+Elizabeth was ever ready to fill in a breach, and when Miss Allen came
+to her in despair, having been positively forbidden to use her eyes,
+she obligingly agreed to help her.
+
+The subject grew, as all subjects have a way of doing. It was a
+providential ordering, Uncle Bob remarked, enabling the writers of
+papers to take refuge from criticism in the impressive statement that
+it is impossible to treat of the matter adequately in so short a space.
+Margaret Elizabeth laughed, and crossed out a paragraph at the bottom of
+her first page, and then set out for the Public Library.
+
+Seated in the Reference Room, with more books than she could read in a
+year on the table before her, behold Miss Bentley presently inconsolable
+for lack of a certain authority she chanced to remember in the college
+library at home. The whole force of the Reference Room mourned with her,
+for Margaret Elizabeth in the part of earnest student was no less
+captivating than in her other roles.
+
+"I know where there is a copy," said the youngest and wisest of the
+force, "but it won't do you any good. Mr. Knight, the man the children
+call the Miser, has one."
+
+"I'll go and ask him to let me see it. I'd like to know a real live
+miser." Margaret Elizabeth closed the book she had in hand and rose.
+
+The force gasped at her temerity. They had heard he was a horrid old
+man; but the youngest observed wisely that probably he wouldn't bite.
+
+Miss Bentley, however, having recently developed a bump of discretion,
+did first consult Dr. Prue in the matter, who responded, "Why certainly,
+I see no objection to your asking to see the book. Mr. Knight is a
+harmless, studious man. I have met him on two occasions when I was
+called in to attend his housekeeper, Mrs. Sampson, and he was courtesy
+itself. I will go with you and introduce you, if you like."
+
+Virginia, hanging around and overhearing, begged to be allowed to go
+too. "I'd love to see the inside of his house," she urged.
+
+She was assured she would find it stupid, but this was as nothing
+compared with the glory of entering the abode of the Miser in company
+with her ladyship, and the other pigeons looking enviously on outside.
+
+Dr. Prue, of course, had no time to waste, so Margaret Elizabeth
+hastened to find her pad and pencil, and across the street they went
+forthwith. The Miser was discovered in his library, a spacious, shabby
+room, yet not too shabby for dignity, full of valuable and even rare
+things, such as old prints and engravings, and most of all of books,
+which overflowed their shelves in a scholarly disorder not unfamiliar
+to Margaret Elizabeth.
+
+With businesslike brevity Dr. Vandegrift presented her cousin and her
+credentials to Mr. Knight, who, with a quaint and formal courtesy, was
+happy to oblige the daughter of an author so distinguished in his chosen
+field.
+
+Miss Bentley in her turn presented, with suitable gravity, Miss Virginia
+Brooks, who promised to be quiet as a mouse, and whose eyes betrayed her
+disappointment on discovering the inside of the Miser's house to be so
+much like any other.
+
+After the necessary stir attending upon the finding of the desired
+volume, and getting settled to work, profound quiet again rested upon
+the library. Margaret Elizabeth wrote busily, her book propped upon a
+small stand before her, while across the room Virginia softly turned the
+leaves of a huge volume of engravings, pausing now and then to rest her
+cheek in her palm and regard the Miser steadily for a moment.
+
+The master of the library had the air of having forgotten their presence
+altogether. Aided by a microscope, with a grave absorbed face, he
+studied and compared a series of prints spread before him. So quiet was
+it all, that the crackle and purr of the coal fire in the old-fashioned
+grate made itself quite audible, and the leisurely tick of the clock in
+the hall marked time solemnly.
+
+Margaret Elizabeth's interest in Vedantic Philosophy began after a time
+to wane, and she allowed her attention to wander about the room, from
+object to object, until it concentrated upon the student himself. Was
+he really a miser? she wondered. He did not look it. His was rather the
+face of an ascetic. Suddenly it flashed into her mind that here was the
+sad, grey man of that unforgettable conversation in the park.
+
+Virginia slipped down and came to her side. "Is there really a room full
+of gold?" she whispered.
+
+Margaret Elizabeth shook her head sternly. It was time they were going.
+Her hand was tired. She would ask permission to come again. As she
+returned her book to the shelf, she displaced a smaller one, a shabby
+leather-bound book, at which she scarcely glanced, but upon which
+Virginia seized.
+
+"The Candy Man has one like this," she said. "Such a funny name! See?
+Only his is Vol. one and this is Vol. two."
+
+Miss Bentley cared not at all what strange books the Candy Man owned,
+and said so, frowning so severely you could scarcely have believed her
+to be the same person who only a few minutes later was thanking the
+Miser with such alluring grace of manner.
+
+She was welcome to come when she chose, she was assured, with grave
+politeness. His library was at her disposal.
+
+"You have many beautiful things," said Margaret Elizabeth. "This
+portrait above the mantel, for instance, seems to me very interesting."
+
+The portrait in question was rather a splendid one of a military-looking
+man probably in his thirties. One of the best examples of Jouett's work
+it was generally considered, Mr. Knight explained, and said to have been
+an admirable likeness of his uncle, General Waite, at the time it was
+painted.
+
+It was inexplicable that as Margaret Elizabeth gazed up at the general
+the eyes beneath the stern brows should become the eyes of the Candy
+Man. But her exasperation at this absurd illusion passed quickly into
+horrified embarrassment, when Virginia, edging toward the master of the
+house, asked explosively, "Say, have you really got a room full of
+gold?"
+
+"There is one thing certain, you can never go there with me again," said
+Miss Bentley, on their way across the street.
+
+"But Aleck said----" began the culprit.
+
+"Never mind what he said. Aleck is a very ignorant little boy. People
+don't keep gold in rooms. If they have it they put it in the bank or
+send it to the mint."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER EIGHT
+
+_In which the Miser's past history is touched upon; which shows how
+his solitude is again invaded, and how he makes a new friend._
+
+
+"There isn't any mystery about _him_, so far as I know," said the
+Reporter, who was seated as usual upon the carriage block. The Candy
+Wagon continued to act as a magnet for him, and in season and out his
+genial presence confronted the Candy Man.
+
+If his emphasis upon the pronoun was noticed, it was ignored. The
+mystery was, the Candy Man replied, how with such a face he could be a
+miser.
+
+"Oh, he's a bit nutty, of course. My grandmother says his money came to
+him unexpectedly and the shock was too much for him. They say he has a
+notion he is holding it in trust. He is rational enough in every other
+way, a shrewd investor, in fact. His uncle, General Waite, who left him
+the money, was a connection of my grandmother's."
+
+"The Miser is a cousin then?"
+
+"Not on your tintype, my friend. Old Knight was a nephew of the
+general's wife, you see."
+
+"And there were no other heirs?" asked the Candy Man.
+
+"There was an own nephew, I have heard, who mysteriously disappeared
+shortly before the general's death. I have heard my grandmother mention
+it, but it was long before my day. Why are you interested?"
+
+Even to himself the Candy Man could not quite explain his interest in
+this sad and lonely man, except that, as he had told Miss Bentley in
+their first and only conversation, he had a habit of getting interested
+in people. For example, in the house where he roomed there was a young
+couple who just now engaged his sympathies. The husband, a teacher in
+the Boys' High School, had been ill with typhoid, and the little wife's
+anxious face haunted the Candy Man. The husband was recovering, but of
+course the long illness had overtaxed their small resources, and--But,
+oh dear! weren't there hundreds of such cases? What was the good of
+thinking about it! Yet suppose there were a Fairy Godmother Society?
+
+The Candy Man was a foolish dreamer, and his favourite dream in these
+days was of some time sitting beside the Little Red Chimney hearth, and
+discussing the Fairy Godmother Society with Miss Bentley. These bright
+dreams, however, were interspersed by moments of extreme depression, in
+which he cursed the day upon which he had become a Candy Man; moments
+when the horrified surprise in the eyes of Miss Bentley as she
+recognised him, rose up to torment him.
+
+It was in one of these that the Reporter had presented himself this
+time, and when he was gone the Candy Man returned to his gloom. Having
+nothing else to do just then he opened the shabby book with the funny
+name, and looked at the crimson flower. Through the stain of the flower
+he read:
+
+    _"If a person is fearful and abject, what else is necessary but
+    to apply for permission to bury him as if he were dead."_
+
+
+The book had come into his possession by a curious chance not long
+before, and he treasured it, not so much for its sturdy philosophy, as
+because it was in some sort a link to the shadowy past of his early
+childhood.
+
+The adjectives "fearful" and "abject" brought him up short. What manner
+of man was he to be so quickly overwhelmed by difficulties? As for being
+a Candy Man, did he not owe to this despised position his good fortune
+in meeting Miss Bentley at all?
+
+Somewhere about eight o'clock the next evening, being Sunday, he might
+have been seen strolling by the house of the Little Red Chimney. That
+particular architectural feature had lost its identity in the shades of
+evening, but he was indulging the characteristic desire of a lover to
+gaze at his lady's window under the kindly cover of the night.
+
+The blind was drawn within a few inches of the sill, but these inches
+allowed him a glimpse of a blazing fire, and while he lingered a shadow
+flitted across the curtain in its direction, and then another, until in
+his mind's eye he beheld Margaret Elizabeth and Uncle Bob seated beside
+the hearth. For aught he knew, it might be Augustus McAllister making
+an evening call, but the Candy Man was just then too determinedly
+optimistic to harbour such an idea.
+
+[Illustration: THE MISER]
+
+As he passed on he was occupied in trying to picture to himself her
+ladyship sitting before her fire, but that familiar little grey hat,
+which was so entirely inappropriate, would persist, in spite of all he
+could do, in getting into the picture. Only once, when curling plumes
+took its place, had he seen her without it, and though for an instant he
+would succeed in removing it, presto! before he knew it, there it was
+again, jammed down anyhow on her bright hair.
+
+With odds in favour of the hat, the struggle came to a sudden pause at
+sight of a tall figure leaning heavily and in evident pain against one
+of the ornamental iron fences which prevailed along this street. At once
+proffering his assistance, he recognised Mr. Knight, the Miser.
+
+It was plain the sufferer would have preferred to decline help. It would
+soon pass. It was nothing. He had had such attacks before. He spoke
+brokenly, adding, "I thank you," in a tone of dismissal.
+
+The Candy Man showed himself to be, when occasion demanded, a masterful
+person. Without arguing the point, he supported the Miser with a firm
+arm and began to urge him in the direction of his home. Mr. Knight, half
+fainting as he was, submitted without a word until his door was reached;
+then, there being no response to his companion's vigorous ring, he
+murmured something about the servants having gone, and began to fumble
+in his pocket.
+
+The Candy Man, taking the latch key from his trembling fingers, opened
+the door, and ignoring the evident expectation conveyed in his renewed
+thanks, continued to assert authority, supporting the invalid into his
+library. "I shall not leave you alone until you are relieved," he said.
+
+Again Mr. Knight submitted to his captor's will, and lying back in his
+arm-chair directed him to the restorative that was prescribed for these
+seizures. When it had been administered he lay quiet with closed eyes.
+
+The Candy Man now turned his attention to the fire, which had burned
+low, coaxing it skilfully out of its sullen apathy. He was brushing up
+tidily, when Mr. Knight, to whose face the colour was returning, spoke.
+
+"You are very kind," he said, adding as the Candy Man felt his pulse and
+nodded his satisfaction, "are you a physician?"
+
+"No," was the smiling answer. "Merely something of a nurse. My father
+was an invalid for some years."
+
+The sick man said "Ah!" his eyes resting, perhaps a little wistfully,
+upon the vigorous young fellow before him. "Don't let me keep you," he
+added. "I am quite relieved, and my housekeeper will return very shortly
+from church."
+
+Instead of leaving him the Candy Man sat down. "I have nothing to do
+this evening, Mr. Knight, and unless you turn me out forcibly I mean to
+stay with you till some member of your household comes in."
+
+"I fear my strength is hardly equal to turning you out," the Miser
+replied with a smile. "You are most kind." Then after a pause he added
+apologetically: "Will you kindly tell me your name? Your face is
+familiar, but my memory is at fault."
+
+"My name is Reynolds, Robert Reynolds, and I am at present conducting a
+candy wagon on the Y.M.C.A. corner. That is where you have seen me." He
+had no mind to sail under false colours again.
+
+The sick man's "Indeed!" was spoken with careful courtesy, but his
+surprise was plain enough.
+
+The Candy Man leaned forward, an arm on his crossed knee; his eyes met
+those of the older man frankly. "It is not my chosen profession," he
+said. "I happened to be free to follow any chance impulse, and the
+opportunity offered to help in this way a friend in need. It may have
+been foolish. I am alone in the world, and entirely unacquainted here.
+I should not care for the permanent job, but there's more in it than
+you would suppose. More enjoyment, I mean."
+
+"I recall now you mentioned the Little Red Chimney," said Mr. Knight.
+
+The Candy Man grew red. Why had he been so imprudent? The Miser's memory
+certainly might be worse.
+
+"And now I know why your face is so familiar," the invalid went on.
+"I sat opposite to you in the car going to the park one Sunday morning.
+My physician prescribes fresh air. And later I saw you with that
+bright-faced young girl, Miss Bentley. You were talking together in the
+pavilion near the river. You both seemed exceedingly merry. I envied
+you. I seemed to realise how old and lonely I am. I think I envied you
+her friendship."
+
+"Your impression is natural," answered the Candy Man, "but the truth is
+I do not know Miss Bentley. We met unexpectedly in the pavilion that
+morning. I did not at the time realise it, I was unpardonably dense,
+but she took me for some one else. On the occasion of the accident that
+foggy evening--you perhaps remember it--I overheard the name she gave to
+the conductor. Well, it seems she had no idea she was talking to a Candy
+Man that morning in the park, and I should have known it."
+
+The Miser leaned his head on a thin hand, and certainly there was
+nothing sordid, nothing mean, in the eyes which looked so kindly at his
+companion. It was not perhaps a strong face, nor yet quite a weak one;
+rather it indicated an over-sensitive, brooding nature. "You will not
+always be a Candy Man," he said. "I have made Miss Bentley's
+acquaintance recently. She is friendliness itself."
+
+At this moment a grey slip of a woman, with a prayer-book in her hand,
+entered, and was presented as Mrs. Sampson, the housekeeper. The Candy
+Man rose to go, but Mr. Knight seemed now in no haste to release him.
+
+"I should be glad to see you again, if some evening you have nothing
+better to do," he said. "You may perhaps be interested in some of my
+treasures." He glanced about the room. "You say you too are alone in
+the world?"
+
+"Quite," the Candy Man answered. "Everyone I know has some relative, or
+at least an hereditary friend, but owing to the peculiar circumstances
+of my life, I have none. I do not mean I am friendless, you understand.
+I have some school and college friends, good ones. It is in background
+I am particularly lacking," he concluded.
+
+"I have allowed my friends to slip away from me," confessed the Miser.
+"It was the force of circumstances in my case, too, though I brought it
+upon myself. I have been justly misunderstood."
+
+"'Justly misunderstood.'" The Candy Man repeated the words to himself as
+he walked home in the frosty night. They were strange words, but he did
+not believe them irrational.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER NINE
+
+_Shows how Miss Bentley and the Reporter take refuge in a cave, and
+how in the course of the conversation which follows, she hears something
+which disposes her to feel more kindly toward the Candy Man; shows also
+how Uncle Bob proves faithless to his trust, and his niece finds herself
+locked out in consequence._
+
+
+"Let's pretend we are pursued by wild Indians and take refuge in this
+cave."
+
+The scene was one of those afternoon crushes which everybody attends and
+few enjoy. Miss Bentley, struggling with an ice, which the state of the
+atmosphere rendered eminently desirable, and the density of the crowd
+made indulgence in precarious, addressed her next neighbour, whom she
+had catalogued as a nice, friendly boy. "It's Mr. Brown, isn't it?" she
+added in triumph at so easily associating the name with the face.
+
+The young man's beaming countenance showed his delight. "Good for you,
+Miss Bentley! It would be great. Let me have your plate while you
+squeeze in."
+
+This corner behind a mass of greens seemed to have been left with the
+intention of protecting an elaborate cabinet that occupied a shallow
+recess. However it might be, here was a refuge, difficult of access,
+but possible. Margaret Elizabeth held on to her hat and dived in.
+
+"Grand!" she cried. "This is beyond my wildest hopes," and she perched
+herself on a short step-ladder, left here no doubt by the decorators,
+and held out her hands for the plates. Mr. Brown found a more lowly seat
+beneath a bay tree. They looked at each other and laughed.
+
+"My position is a ticklish one, so to speak," he observed, vainly trying
+to dodge the palm leaves to the right of him; "but I think we are
+reasonably safe from pursuit."
+
+"I haven't the remotest idea where my aunt is," Margaret Elizabeth
+remarked, eating her ice in serene unconcern.
+
+"Say, Miss Bentley, I have heard my cousin speak of you--Augustus
+McAllister, you know."
+
+"Are you Mr. McAllister's cousin?" Miss Bentley's tone and smile left
+it to be inferred that this fact above any other was a passport to her
+favour. It must be regretfully recognised, however, that it would have
+been the same if Mr. Brown had mentioned the market-man.
+
+Having thus successfully established his claim to notice, the Reporter,
+as was his custom, went on to explain that he belonged to the moneyless
+branch of the family.
+
+Margaret Elizabeth assured him, in a grandmotherly manner, that it was
+much better for a young man to have his way to make in the world than to
+have too much money.
+
+The Reporter owned this seemed to be the consensus of opinion. How the
+strange notion had gained such vogue he could not understand, but there
+was no use kicking when you were up against it.
+
+"Of course, it must be hard work, but it must be interesting. Don't you
+have exciting experiences?" Miss Bentley asked.
+
+Oh, he had, certainly, and met such queer people, too. There was a
+fellow who ran a Candy Wagon on the Y.M.C.A. corner, for instance. "You
+ought to meet him, really, Miss Bentley, though, of course, you couldn't
+very well. He's a character, and I have puzzled my brains to discover
+what he's doing it for."
+
+Miss Bentley was interested and requested further enlightenment.
+
+"Well, I have two theories in regard to him. He is an educated man, and
+a gentleman, so far as I can tell, and I think he is either studying
+some social problem, or he is a detective on some trail."
+
+"I never thought----" began Margaret Elizabeth. "I mean," hastily
+correcting herself, "I should never have thought of such an
+explanation."
+
+"He's up to something, you may be sure," Mr. Brown continued. "I like to
+talk to him, and do, every chance I get."
+
+Margaret Elizabeth certainly showed a flattering interest in all the
+Reporter had to say. "Some day when you have become a great editor," she
+assured him at parting, "I shall refer proudly to the afternoon when we
+sat together in a cave and ate ice cream."
+
+"Oh, now, Miss Bentley," the Reporter protested in some embarrassment,
+"I'm sure I shall always think of it with pride, whatever I get to be,
+though that probably won't be much."
+
+This conversation was not without its influence upon Miss Bentley's
+subsequent attitude toward the Candy Man. That some one else had found
+him a unique and interesting personality was reassuring, and the
+thought that he might be engaged on some secret mission was novel and
+suggestive. She began to reconsider and readjust, and in future,
+although she still avoided the Y.M.C.A. corner, she allowed her thoughts
+to turn once in a while in that direction.
+
+Meanwhile she paid two more visits to the Miser's library, on these
+occasions laying deliberate siege to his reserve with all the charm of
+her bright friendliness. She asked questions about his beloved prints;
+intelligent questions, for Margaret Elizabeth had grown up in an
+atmosphere of appreciation for things rare and fine. She chatted about
+her father and his work, and even ventured some wise advice about fresh
+air and its tonic effect. Indeed, it is a cause for wonder that she was
+able at the same time to collect the material which took shape later in
+that most erudite paper.
+
+Under this invasion of youth and gaiety, the sombre, student atmosphere
+became charged with a new, electric current. It was not owing solely to
+Miss Bentley, however, for Sunday evening now frequently found the Candy
+Man dropping in sociably to chat with Mr. Knight in his library.
+
+In these days the Miser often sat leaning his head on his hand, a
+meditative, half whimsical expression on his face, as if he found both
+wonder and amusement in the chance that had so strangely brought these
+young people across his threshold.
+
+One Sunday afternoon the Pennington motor, having deposited Margaret
+Elizabeth at the Vandegrift gate, with a scornful snort went on its
+swift way to more select regions. It was the first really cold weather
+of the season, and while she waited at the door Margaret Elizabeth
+examined the thermometer, and then buried her nose in her muff.
+"Dear me!" she exclaimed impatiently. "Why doesn't somebody come?"
+
+She rang again with no uncertain touch upon the button this time, and
+then, crunching across the frozen grass, peeped in at her own window,
+where a glimpse of smouldering fire rewarded her. She returned to the
+door to ring and rap, still with no response.
+
+This was a most unusual state of affairs, for it was an inexorable
+decree of Dr. Prue's that the telephone must never be left alone.
+Somebody must have gone to sleep. The cold and the darkness deepened and
+it became more and more evident that she was locked out. What should
+she do? After canvassing the situation thoroughly, she could think of
+nothing for it but to seek refuge with the Miser. Her acquaintance in
+the neighbourhood was limited. Miss Kitty the dressmaker had gone to
+vespers, and her cottage was dark. The apartment house was too far away.
+From the Miser's library she could watch for the light which would
+betoken the waking up of the delinquent one. So across the street, her
+nose in her muff, ran Margaret Elizabeth.
+
+The little housekeeper, Mrs. Sampson, who opened the door, was all
+solicitude. Such a cold evening to be locked out! She knew Mr. Knight
+would be glad to have her wait in the library. He had stepped out for
+a little walk, though she had warned him it was too cold. Thus saying,
+Mrs. Sampson ushered her in, and followed to see if the fire was all it
+should be.
+
+It was, for the Candy Man had just given it a vigorous poking and put on
+fresh coal. The room was full of its pleasant light.
+
+Mrs. Sampson was surprised to find him there. "Miss Bentley, this is
+Mr. Reynolds, a friend of Mr. Knight's," she explained, adding that Miss
+Bentley was locked out, and wished to sit by the window and watch for
+her uncle to come back. "And if you'll excuse me, Miss Bentley, the cook
+has her Sunday evenings out, and I get supper myself," she added as she
+withdrew.
+
+Margaret Elizabeth and the Candy Man faced each other in silence for a
+second or two, then she said, very gravely indeed, "I am glad to meet
+you, Mr. Reynolds."
+
+"Thank you, Miss Bentley. May I give you a chair?" he asked.
+
+"Thank you, I will sit here by the window." The window was some distance
+from the fire, but as she sat down Margaret Elizabeth loosened her furs
+as if she felt its heat.
+
+The Candy Man waited, uncertain what course he should pursue.
+
+"Please sit down, Mr. Reynolds. I should like to talk to you, now the
+opportunity has so unexpectedly offered." She regarded him still
+seriously, her hands clasped within her large muff. "I think you owe me
+an explanation."
+
+"I am not sure I understand." The Candy Man's heart was beating in an
+absurd and disconcerting way, but he would keep his head and follow her
+lead.
+
+"Of course you are aware that you allowed me to talk to you that morning
+in the park, in a--most unsuitable manner, without even----"
+
+"How could I?" cried the Candy Man entreatingly. "I did not know."
+
+"Did not know what?" demanded Miss Bentley sternly, as he hesitated.
+
+"I thought perhaps--I was dreadfully lonely, you see, and I thought--it
+was preposterous--but I hoped you--don't you see?--didn't mind talking
+to an unknown Candy Man."
+
+"Oh! was that it?" exclaimed Margaret Elizabeth in a tone difficult to
+interpret. Did she think it preposterous, or not? It seemed to indicate
+she found something preposterous. "Then you were disappointed in me,"
+she added.
+
+Never would the Candy Man admit such a thing. He had realised since then
+what a cad he must have seemed, but----
+
+"That, however, is neither here nor there," she continued, "since I did
+not recognise you. It was----"
+
+"Preposterous?" he suggested.
+
+"Yes, preposterous, to suppose that I could. Why, it was nearly dark
+that afternoon, and I----"
+
+"Please don't rub it in. I know. You see I knew you so well."
+
+"Me?" cried Margaret Elizabeth.
+
+"I had seen you pass, I mean."
+
+Again Miss Bentley said "Oh!" adding: "You are also the person who
+laughed when I made an idiotic remark about lighthouses in the grocery."
+
+The Candy Man protested. He had not laughed.
+
+"Your eyes laughed. That is how I first discovered my mistake. Your
+resemblance to Mr. McAllister is remarkable."
+
+"So I have been told." The Candy Man shrugged his shoulders, ever so
+little.
+
+"However, to go back, I think you owe me an explanation, Mr. Reynolds,
+considering how you allowed me to talk to you under a false impression.
+I am not absolutely lacking in grey matter," she added, while a smile
+curled her lips, "and I think you owe it to me to tell me why you became
+a Candy Man."
+
+"In return for the Fairy Godmother idea?" he asked mischievously.
+
+Miss Bentley's brows drew together. "If you knew how bitterly I have
+regretted all the foolish things I said that day, you would not laugh,"
+she cried.
+
+"Do not say that, please, Miss Bentley. I beg your pardon, and I am not
+laughing. I could not. If you only knew what it all meant to me. How
+I----"
+
+His distress was so genuine that Margaret Elizabeth was touched. "Well,
+never mind now. It can't be helped, and I am willing to have it in
+return for the Fairy Godmother nonsense, if you choose to put it so."
+
+And now perforce the Candy Man must explain himself.
+
+"You see," he began, "I had been knocked out of everything through
+a bad accident that occurred at my home near Chicago--a runaway.
+Speaking of grey matter, there was some doubt for a time whether mine
+was not permanently injured. However, I gradually recovered, but I was
+still forbidden for another six months at least to do any brain work,
+and ordered by my doctor to loaf in the fresh air. Doing nothing when
+you are longing to get to work is no easy job. I left home with the
+intention of going South, and stopped off here for no particular reason.
+Perhaps I should have said that I have no family. My father died
+something over a year ago. Oddly enough, in front of the station here
+I met an Irish woman, once a servant in my father's house. She was
+overjoyed to see me, and poured out her troubles. Her son, who ran a
+candy wagon, had been taken ill with fever, and his employers would not
+promise to keep the place for him, and altogether she was in hard lines,
+this boy being the main support of a large family. So now you see how
+the idea occurred to me. To amuse myself and keep the boy's place. And
+having no family or friends to be disgraced----"
+
+"No one has intimated there was any disgrace about it," Miss Bentley
+interrupted. "At worst it can be called eccentric. It was also very,
+very kind."
+
+"Oh, now, Miss Bentley, thank you, but I can't let you overrate that.
+Any help I have given was merely by the way. You must remember I was
+in need of some occupation, and I assure you it has been very much of
+a lark."
+
+"Yes?" said Miss Bentley. "Then no doubt before long you will be writing
+'The Impressions of a Candy Man,' or 'Life as Seen from a Candy Wagon.'
+It will be new."
+
+"Thanks for the suggestion, I'll consider it. But for the chance that
+made me a Candy Man I should have missed a great deal--for one thing, a
+realisation of the opportunity that awaits the Fairy Godmother Society."
+
+"But Tim will soon be about again," said Margaret Elizabeth.
+
+"Then I must look out for another job; but your remark implies some
+further knowledge of Tim. I was not aware I had mentioned his name
+even."
+
+Miss Bentley bit her lip, then decided to smile frankly. "I met Tim
+the other day," she said. "My cousin, Dr. Vandegrift, often visits St.
+Mary's, and I sometimes go with her. Tim is a nice boy, and full of
+praises for the kind gentleman who has done so much for him."
+
+"And also, let me add, for the lovely young lady who gave him a red
+rose, and----"
+
+Margaret Elizabeth laughed. There was no getting ahead of this Candy
+Man. Had he known all along, or had he just guessed? "I see a light at
+last," she said, rising. "I must go, or they will be wondering what has
+become of me." ...
+
+"Yes, I know it was my afternoon in," said Uncle Bob plaintively, while
+Margaret Elizabeth made toast at the grate and Dr. Prue set the table.
+"I merely ran over to the drug store for a second, but Barlow was there
+and I got to talking."
+
+"It is quite unnecessary to explain, but I do wish, father, you would
+refrain from speaking as if you were required to stay in. It was your
+own proposition to let Nancy go. I could have made other arrangements."
+Dr. Prue was aggrieved. There was no telling how many telephone calls
+had been unanswered.
+
+Margaret Elizabeth laughed. "You are absolutely untrustworthy, Uncle
+Bob. Hereafter I shall carry a latch key."
+
+"By the way, who was that young man who brought you home?" the doctor
+asked.
+
+"His name is Reynolds. He is a stranger here. I have met him once or
+twice." This casual explanation was accompanied by side glances which
+indicated to Uncle Bob that there was more in it than appeared on the
+surface.
+
+Margaret Elizabeth had been extremely reserved upon the subject of the
+Candy Man. Uncle Bob had not heard a word of it till now, when, beside
+the Little Red Chimney hearth, supper having been cleared away, and Dr.
+Prue resting with a book on the office lounge, she told him the whole
+story.
+
+"You don't say so! That beats anything I ever heard. Well, I said it
+would come out all right, didn't I?" Margaret Elizabeth's narrative was
+punctured, as Mrs. Partington would have said, with many exclamations
+such as these.
+
+"I own you were right. It isn't as bad as it seemed. He is really very
+gentlemanly and nice. Still, it is a bit awkward too," she added
+thoughtfully.
+
+It is possible she was thinking of Mrs. Gerrard Pennington at the
+moment.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER TEN
+
+_In which the Little Red Chimney keeps Festival, and the Candy Man
+receives an unexpected Invitation._
+
+
+The Candy Man, letting himself in at his lodging house, one gloomy
+Sunday afternoon, stumbled upon a deputation of pigeons, in a state
+of fluttering impatience.
+
+"She said to wait, and we thought you were never, never coming!" was
+their chorus.
+
+"Never is a long day," said the Candy Man. "What will you have?"
+
+It appeared they were the bearers of a missive which read briefly and
+to the point: "Her ladyship requests the pleasure of the Candy Man's
+presence at the Pigeons' Christmas Tree, at four o'clock this
+afternoon."
+
+It had seemed to the Candy Man that he was altogether outside the
+holiday world, that for him Christmas had ended with his visit to the
+hospital that afternoon. He had ventured to send a basket of fruit to
+his fellow lodgers, the invalid professor and his wife, and had played
+Santa Claus to two or three newsboys who frequented the Y.M.C.A. corner
+and to the small Malones, and the state of his exchequer scarcely
+warranted anything more. The social calendar in the morning paper
+overflowed with festivities for the week, and he had pleased his fancy
+by picturing Miss Bentley, radiant and lovely, in the midst of them. He,
+the lonely Candy Man, without the pale, could yet enjoy her pleasure in
+imagination. And lo! this lonely Candy Man was bidden to a tree on
+Christmas Eve, by her ladyship. He could not believe his eyes.
+
+"It takes you a long time to read it," said Virginia. "You'd better
+come. It's late."
+
+Dark was beginning to fall outside, but the Little Red Chimney room was
+full of firelight when the Candy Man was ushered in, in the wake of the
+children, by cordial Uncle Bob. It was a frolicsome, magical light that
+played about a row of red stockings hanging from the shelf above it;
+that advanced to the farthest corner and then retreated; that coaxed and
+dared the unlighted Christmas tree by the piano to wake up and do its
+part; that gleamed in Miss Bentley's hair as she seated the pigeons in
+a semicircle on the rug.
+
+Was it the magic of the firelight, or the absence of the grey hat, or
+the blue frock with its deep white collar, or, or--The Candy Man got no
+further with his questions, for just then Margaret Elizabeth turned and
+gave him her hand, explaining that they were so much stiller when they
+sat on the floor. She added that it was very good of him to come--a
+purely conventional and entirely inaccurate statement. He was also
+instructed to sit on the sofa with Uncle Bob.
+
+"And now," began Miss Bentley, standing with her back to the row of red
+stockings and looking into the upturned faces, "we are going to be
+rather quiet, for this, you know, is both Christmas Eve and Sunday.
+First, we'll sing 'While Shepherds Watched,' very softly."
+
+She sat down at the piano and struck a few chords, then her voice rose,
+clear and sweet, the pigeons following her lead, a bit quaveringly at
+first, but doing wonderfully well considering they were not song birds.
+"She's been training them for weeks," Uncle Bob whispered.
+
+After this came "Stille Nacht," and Uncle Bob joined in, and then the
+Candy Man, and presently the entrance of Dr. Prue was proclaimed by a
+vigorous alto. The effect was most gratifying to the performers, and
+from the piano Margaret Elizabeth murmured, "Very good."
+
+When the singing was over she took her seat on a low ottoman in the
+midst of the children, who drew closer. "Next," she said, patting the
+hand Virginia slipped within her arm, "comes the story, which on
+Christmas Eve everybody should either hear or read for himself."
+
+Stillness fell on the Little Red Chimney room, the pigeons listened in
+breathless absorption, while, forgetting herself and her audience, her
+hands loosely clasped on her knees, Margaret Elizabeth began the story
+which, as often as it may be told, yet throbs with tenderness and
+wonder. As she went on her eyes grew dark and deep, and in her face
+shone something more than the sweetness and charm hitherto so endearing.
+Was it a prophecy? A glimpse into the unsounded heart of her?
+
+Dr. Prue shaded her eyes with her hand; Uncle Bob wiped his glasses; the
+Candy Man's soul was stirred within him, but he gave no sign.
+
+"And they brought gifts, gold, frankincense and myrrh, to the little
+Child in the manger; so now in keeping his birthday, we give each other
+gifts and are happy because of the wonderful night so long ago," ended
+Margaret Elizabeth.
+
+After that it was no longer still in the Little Red Chimney room. Uncle
+Bob set the tree alight, and her ladyship distributed the red stockings.
+Nobody was left out, not even the Candy Man, or Nancy and Jenny hovering
+in the background.
+
+Upon occasions like the Pigeons' Christmas Tree we long to linger, but
+they are evanescent. The Candy Man must see the children home after a
+few brief words with Miss Bentley.
+
+"The Fairy Godmother Society must have been organised, and my name
+entered among its beneficiaries," he told her.
+
+"I am glad if you liked it," she replied. "I thought you would.
+To-morrow I am going to Pennington Park to stay till after New Year's,
+but Christmas Eve belonged by rights to the Little Red Chimney." She
+smiled, and the Candy Man nodded understandingly.
+
+This much in the midst of the chatter that accompanied the putting on of
+small coats and leggings.
+
+"And I may hope that I am forgiven?" he had a chance to add as she gave
+him her hand at parting.
+
+Miss Bentley's eyes twinkled. "It will do no harm to hope," she told
+him.
+
+The Candy Man, his red stocking protruding from his overcoat pocket,
+conducted the noisy flock to their homes, then turning southward he
+walked on and on toward the edge of the town. As is fitting on Christmas
+Eve, a fine snow had begun to fall, sifting silently over everything,
+transforming even the ugly and pitiful with a mantle of beauty.
+
+The Candy Man, striding on through the night, felt an unreasoning joy as
+he thought of Margaret Elizabeth telling the story with the firelight on
+her face. The world seemed throbbing with expectancy. Who could tell
+what splendid event awaited its near fulfilment?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER ELEVEN
+
+_In which a radical change of atmosphere is at once noticed; which
+shows how Miss Bentley repents of a too coming-on disposition, and lends
+an ear to the advantages of wealth._
+
+
+The Christmas fire was not cold upon the hearth of the Little Red
+Chimney before Miss Bentley was whisked away to other scenes, into an
+atmosphere so different that of necessity things took on another aspect.
+
+Mrs. Gerrard Pennington found intense satisfaction in her niece's social
+success. Given every advantage, she pointed out, one could never tell
+how a girl would take, and Dick had brought up his daughter in such an
+odd way. Yet in spite of everything, even this awkward arrangement of
+living in two places, Margaret Elizabeth was popular beyond her fondest
+hopes.
+
+There were not wanting those who remarked that it would be a marvel if
+she were not spoiled. Probably they were right, and Margaret Elizabeth,
+at the flood tide of her social career, courted, feted, the kingdoms of
+this world at her feet, was in danger.
+
+"And who sent this?" Mrs. Pennington demanded.
+
+It was Christmas Day, and "this" was an Indian basket of holly and
+mistletoe, conspicuous, among many costly floral offerings, by its
+simplicity. The card which accompanied it read, "To her Ladyship, from
+the Candy Man," but this Mrs. Pennington had not seen.
+
+"Oh," answered her niece, "I don't know how to tell you who he is. He is
+a stranger here--a Mr. Reynolds. I met him at Mr. Knight's, where you
+remember I went to get some material for my paper for the Tuesday Club."
+
+This was all true, and, unaccompanied by a heightened colour, might
+have allayed her aunt's lurking suspicions, born of that unexplained
+interview in the park with some one who was not Augustus.
+
+Only once had Mrs. Pennington referred to this, asking half jokingly if
+Margaret Elizabeth had ever discovered the identity of that person;
+putting a somewhat disdainful emphasis upon "person."
+
+"Never," Margaret Elizabeth could at that time assure her, and she
+added, "I do not expect to, and certainly do not wish to."
+
+Mrs. Pennington, however, had her intuitions in regard to this unknown
+individual. She anticipated his reappearance, and, like a wise general,
+in time of peace prepared for war. Keeping her vague fears to herself,
+she increased her vigilance.
+
+Annoyed because of that uncalled-for blush, far away from the Little Red
+Chimney, with fairy-tales forgot, Margaret Elizabeth repeated her aunt's
+question. After all, who was Mr. Reynolds? That which had so lately
+seemed an adventure compounded of kindliness and fun, she now beheld
+only as an awkward situation. She began to feel that she had overstepped
+the bounds in asking him to the Christmas tree; and the red stocking!
+What nonsense! Why should she have felt concerned over his loneliness?
+Were there not many lonely people in the world? Might he not infer from
+it all a rather excessive interest in him and his affairs? Her interview
+with Tim at the hospital, for instance, though it had come about by the
+purest chance, looked on the surface as if she had been bent upon
+investigating him.
+
+The Candy Man's offering, which she at first found so happily
+significant and appropriate, now began to seem almost a piece of
+presumption. It lay ignored if not forgotten, till its brown and
+withered contents were tossed into the fire by one of the maids. Did
+Miss Bentley wish her to save the basket?
+
+No, Miss Bentley cared nothing for it. Or, wait--she liked sweet grass,
+and on second thought she would keep it.
+
+Never had the holiday season been so gay. There was not time for a
+minute's connected thought. Margaret Elizabeth honestly tried to keep
+her promise to stop and reflect for at least ten minutes a day, but
+either she went to sleep, or fell into a waking dream that bore small
+relation to the sober realities upon which she was supposed to dwell.
+
+There were guests at Pennington Park for the holidays--English friends
+of her uncle and aunt, persons of a broader culture than Margaret
+Elizabeth had ever before encountered. They afforded her an object
+lesson of the best that accrues from wealth and tradition, and is only
+to be attained by means of them. Within herself she was aware of an
+aptitude of her own for these things.
+
+But half divining her niece's mood, Mrs. Gerrard Pennington skilfully
+and subtly fostered it, and Augustus McAllister, with unexpected tact,
+followed her lead.
+
+Augustus was genuinely in love, and it brought out the best that was
+in him. For the first time in his life something resembling humility
+manifested itself, a humility which sat gracefully upon the possessor
+of variously estimated millions. It seemed to say: "Here is one who,
+although not brilliant, may be led into any desirable path." And with
+his other substantial attractions he combined his full share of good
+looks.
+
+To be unresponsive was not in Miss Bentley's make-up, and the attentions
+of Augustus assumed in these days a delicate and pleasing character.
+What girl could be indifferent to the prestige born of the generally
+accepted opinion that the position of mistress of the Towers was hers
+for the word?
+
+In truth, all this homage--and Augustus was far from being alone in
+it--was to Margaret Elizabeth an exciting game, that need not be taken
+too seriously. It was only when she thought of the Candy Man that she
+became serious and annoyed. How impossible, in the atmosphere of
+Pennington Park, appeared any explanation or justification of so absurd
+a position as his!
+
+[Illustration: COUSIN AUGUSTUS]
+
+When, after a morning recital by the Musical Club, Miss Bentley was seen
+walking down the avenue with Augustus McAllister, society seized upon it
+as confirming an interesting rumour. It was absurd, of course. Margaret
+Elizabeth did it quite innocently. She really felt the need of exercise
+in the open air, and could not very easily dismiss Mr. McAllister, who
+had accompanied her aunt and herself to the concert, and who also felt
+the need of air.
+
+Did she think of the Candy Man when they passed the Y.M.C.A. corner?
+Yes, she did. Though she gave not so much as half a glance in the
+direction of the Candy Wagon, she hoped he was not too busy to observe.
+It might counteract possible false impressions in the past.
+
+A few days later there appeared in a column of the _Evening Record_,
+given up to such matters, an item regarding the soon-to-be-announced
+engagement of a certain charming and beautiful girl, only recently a
+resident of the city, and a young man of wealth and social position.
+
+It brought Miss Bentley up short. She disliked newspaper gossip
+extremely, and an allusion so faintly veiled that everyone must
+understand, was under the circumstances most embarrassing, for the truth
+was she had not been asked. Her cheeks burned. Yet it was thanks only to
+some clever fencing on her part, and perhaps some words of caution to
+Augustus from his mentor, that she had not been, and she knew in her
+heart it must come soon.
+
+Just when you were having a good time and did not wish to be bothered,
+it was tiresome to have to decide momentous questions, she told herself
+almost fretfully, as she was borne swiftly and smoothly downtown one
+afternoon. There was the usual detention at the Y.M.C.A. corner, and
+Margaret Elizabeth looked out and almost into the Candy Wagon before she
+knew it. But there was no cause for alarm. Beneath the white cap of the
+Candy Man shone the round Irish countenance of Tim Malone.
+
+Was it Tim after all who had viewed her triumphal walk down the avenue?
+The question brought not a hint of a smile to Miss Bentley's lips; and
+this was a very grave symptom.
+
+If Uncle Bob had been within reach! But he wasn't. He had run down to
+Florida to look after his orange grove, and Dr. Prue was up to her eyes
+in grip cases. There was every reason why Margaret Elizabeth should stay
+on at Pennington Park.
+
+So the Little Red Chimney had no chance to get in its work. In vain
+Virginia looked from the dining-room window for its curling smoke. In
+vain did the invalid sister of Miss Kitty, the dressmaker, dream of the
+beautiful young lady who brought her roses. In vain did the postman and
+the market-man inquire of Nancy when Miss Bentley was coming back. To
+the Miser alone, who from his study window had also noted the deadness
+of the Little Red Chimney, was the privilege of a word with the
+enchantress accorded. It came about through Mrs. Gerrard Pennington's
+interest in the furnishing of the new quarters of the Colonial Dames.
+
+Hearing of a desirable print owned by Mr. Knight, which it was
+understood he might be induced to part with, she drove thither to
+canvass the matter, accompanied by her niece. On the way they picked
+up Augustus, who knew nothing of prints, but was pleased to join the
+expedition.
+
+The Miser, beneath his grave courtesy, seemed taken aback by this
+invasion of his solitude. Mrs. Pennington's conventional suavity plainly
+embarrassed him. He smiled indeed at Margaret Elizabeth, remarking as he
+spread out his engravings that it had been long since he last saw her.
+
+The impulse was strong upon her to follow him to his desk and ask if he
+had any news of the Candy Man. There were moments when she thought it
+strange she had had no word. These were but fleeting moments, however;
+for the most part she succeeded, or thought she succeeded, in dismissing
+him to the limbo of the past. So now she resisted the impulse to ask
+news of him.
+
+When it came to negotiations Margaret Elizabeth and Augustus, leaving
+Mrs. Pennington to conduct them, moved about the room, viewing the
+Miser's curios.
+
+"Do you care for mezzotints?" she asked him.
+
+"I don't know the first thing about them," Augustus owned. "In fact
+never saw one."
+
+She laughed. "Oh, yes, you have. Ever so many of the Reynolds and Romney
+portraits were reproduced in mezzotint. If I am not mistaken there is
+one hanging in your own hall."
+
+Augustus gazed at her in undisguised admiration. "I don't see how you
+learn so much, Miss Bentley. I have no doubt I have a lot of things you
+could help me to appreciate."
+
+From this dangerous ground she moved hastily, calling attention to the
+portrait above the mantel. Mr. McAllister was more at home here.
+
+"A rattling good picture. General Waite, by the way," he informed her,
+"was own cousin to my grandmother on my mother's side. My great
+grandfather and his father were brothers, don't you know."
+
+"Indeed!" said Margaret Elizabeth, politely. The relationship did
+not interest her, but she wondered, in annoyance, why the cousin of
+Augustus, on his mother's side, should look down on her with the eyes of
+the Candy Man. Stern eyes they were, with a sparkle of humour behind the
+sternness.
+
+On the way home Mrs. Pennington was stirred to reminiscence. "One of
+the first parties I ever attended was in that old house," she said.
+"It must have been thirty-five years ago. I was a very young girl--barely
+seventeen. General Waite was a most courtly man, and his wife was quite
+famous for her beauty. It was there I met Mr. Pennington. He and the
+general's nephew, Robert Waite, were great friends. They went to college
+together. He disappeared strangely. I remember Gerrard was dread fully
+upset about it at the time. It was just before our marriage."
+
+To all this Margaret Elizabeth only half listened. The eyes of the
+general lingered reproachfully with her, and perhaps were at the bottom
+of that policy of postponement with which Augustus was met when the
+inevitable moment came.
+
+Just a little time was all she asked. Mr. McAllister was talking of a
+trip to Panama; let him go, and on his return he should have his answer.
+
+Miss Bentley was very sweet as she spoke thus; eminently worth waiting
+for. So Augustus went to Panama, and she was left to argue matters with
+herself.
+
+During the process she grew pale. Mixed up with her arguments was that
+foolish idea that she ought to have heard something from the Candy Man.
+Had he seen that item in the _Evening Record_?
+
+Mrs. Pennington noticed the pallor, but treated it lightly. Margaret
+Elizabeth was tired out, but now Lent was here she would rest. She was
+worn to death herself, but she would recuperate, and surely her niece,
+who was years younger, could do the same. She failed to take into
+consideration the complications lacking in her own case. In fact, having
+brought matters to the present status, Mrs. Pennington allowed herself
+to relax.
+
+Mr. Gerrard Pennington looked at Margaret Elizabeth from beneath his
+bushy brows. Confound them, what were they doing to her? She had a way
+of joining him in the library, and sitting with a book in her lap, which
+she seldom read.
+
+One day, laying down his paper, and after a cautious glance over his
+shoulder, he remarked: "Did it ever occur to you, Margaret Elizabeth,
+that you don't have to marry anybody?"
+
+She stared at him with surprised eyes, in which a smile slowly dawned.
+"Why, Uncle Gerry, what do you mean? Of course I don't have to."
+
+"There is a great deal in suggestion," continued Mr. Pennington. "Keep
+telling people a certain thing, confront them with it on all occasions,
+and they will be influenced in spite of themselves; and it has occurred
+to me----"
+
+"Yes?" said Margaret Elizabeth.
+
+"Well, that it applies in your case." Mr. Pennington cleared his throat.
+"A certain person whom we know has behaved very well of late; better
+than I thought was in him, but--unless you are pretty sure you can't
+live without him--Now this is rank treason on my part, but don't be too
+soft-hearted, Margaret Elizabeth."
+
+Mr. Pennington returned to his stock-market reports, and silence
+reigned, but presently two hands rested on his shoulders, and a velvet
+cheek touched his for a moment. "Thank you, Uncle Gerry," said Margaret
+Elizabeth.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER TWELVE
+
+_Which shows Miss Bentley recovering from a fit of what Uncle Bob
+calls Cantankerousness; in which a shipwrecked letter is brought to
+light, and Dr. Prue is called again to visit the child of the Park
+Superintendent._
+
+
+"And he turned into a splendid prince (he had been one all the time
+really, you know), and he laid all his riches at Violetta's feet, and
+made her a princess, because she had been true to him through thick and
+thin."
+
+Virginia's voice rose in triumphant climax.
+
+"That's all very fine in a fairy-tale, Virginia, and it is an extremely
+good one for a little girl like you to make up out of her own head. But
+you know in real life it is different." Margaret Elizabeth gazed
+pensively into the fire.
+
+Virginia, prone upon the hearth-rug, was disposed to argue what she did
+not understand. "How different?"
+
+"Well, in a fairy-tale you can have things as you want them, but in
+real life you get tangled up in what other people want, and with duty
+and common sense; and when you determine to follow your--" Margaret
+Elizabeth was going to say "heart," but changed to "intuitions," "you
+are left high and dry on a desert island."
+
+Virginia was to be excused if she failed to make head or tail of this.
+"I wish the Candy Man would come back," she remarked irrelevantly. "He
+was much nicer than Tim. He liked fairy-tales. He said he was coming
+some time."
+
+"Oh, did he?" said Miss Bentley.
+
+The reference to a desert island, and a disposition to quarrel with
+fairy-tales, go to show that while she was decidedly more like herself
+than in the last chapter, her recovery was not yet complete. In fact
+Margaret Elizabeth was suffering from the irritability that so often
+accompanies convalescence. Cantankerousness was Uncle Bob's word for it,
+and he defended it with all the eloquence of which he was master, his
+finger on the page in the dictionary where it was to be found in good
+and regular standing.
+
+It really did not matter what you called it; the point was, that in an
+argument with her aunt, Margaret Elizabeth had gone further than she
+intended; had said what had better have been left unsaid. This she
+confessed to Dr. Prue.
+
+"Let me see your tongue," commanded that professional lady, regarding
+her searchingly.
+
+Margaret Elizabeth displayed the unruly member, laughing as she did so.
+
+"What did you say to Mrs. Pennington?"
+
+"We were speaking," Margaret Elizabeth answered meekly, "of gratitude,
+and Aunt Eleanor said, as you are always hearing people say, that there
+is little or none of it in the world. You see, in some matter which came
+up in the Colonial Dames, Nancy Lane sided against her. 'And after all
+I've done for her!' cried Aunt Eleanor. I said I thought gratitude was
+an overrated virtue anyway, and that to expect a person to vote your way
+because you had been good to her, was a kind of graft."
+
+"Humph!" said Dr. Prue.
+
+"I know it was a dreadful, dreadful thing to say." Tears were in
+Margaret Elizabeth's eyes. "When she has been loveliness itself to me.
+There it is, you see. I have thought about it, and thought about it,
+until I'm all mixed up."
+
+"What did your aunt say?"
+
+"She was very dignified. She had not expected to hear such a thing from
+me. Then she walked away."
+
+"I hope you asked her pardon."
+
+"I had no chance. She has gone to Chicago--was on her way to the station
+then. I will, of course."
+
+"For a young thing your ideas are not bad, though your problem is
+entangled in foolish convention, personal pride and so on. But neither
+you nor I was born to set the world right. Now cheer up and think no
+more about it for the present. Be ready at two o'clock to go to the park
+with me. The superintendent's child is ill again."
+
+Having delivered her prescription, Dr. Prue left, and her patient
+returned to her hearth-stone and an endeavour to be honest with
+herself. Virginia had interrupted this most difficult process with her
+fairy-tale. While it could not be said to bear upon the situation, after
+she had left Margaret Elizabeth was conscious of a faint lightening of
+the fog.
+
+As they sped smoothly toward the park, in the new electric, Margaret
+Elizabeth driving, Dr. Prue exclaimed, "There, I'm forgetting that
+letter again." Unfastening her bag she held it open while she continued,
+"I hope you'll forgive whoever is to blame, but when the hall was being
+cleaned yesterday, James fished this out of the umbrella jar. Dear knows
+how it got there or when; it looks as if it had been in a shipwreck."
+She produced a stained and sorry-looking missive from her bag. "You can
+just make out the address, the postmark is quite gone," she added,
+laying it in her companion's lap. "You haven't missed an important
+letter, have you?"
+
+"Not that I know of," Margaret Elizabeth replied with a laugh that was
+a bit unsteady. "It is probably nothing of value." She kept her gaze on
+the road ahead. "Just slip it in my pocket, please."
+
+All the rest of the way to the park her heart thumped uncomfortably.
+Could it be? Of course not, it was an advertisement. Why get excited?
+Meanwhile she chatted pleasantly with Dr. Prue.
+
+"All you need is fresh air and a simple life for a while. Your colour
+has come back wonderfully," the doctor remarked as they drew up at the
+cottage gate. "Will you wait for me here?"
+
+"If you don't mind, I think I'll go into the park, and if I'm not back
+by the time you are ready, don't wait. I can take the street car."
+
+Turning in at the entrance to the park, Margaret Elizabeth was for a
+fleeting moment aware of a Candy Wagon standing at the curb a few yards
+away. There was nothing unusual in this except the odd way in which it
+fitted into the situation, and the next moment she had forgotten
+everything but the letter in her hand.
+
+She walked slowly down the path. The April sunshine sifted through a
+faint and feathery greenness overhead, the air was clear and fresh. She
+was thinking that she had seen just one little scrap of the Candy Man's
+writing--on the card accompanying the Christmas basket; and this on the
+letter was blurred and stained, yet she was sure of it. He had written.
+She had been sure he would. She was glad. She would be honest with
+herself. She wanted him for a friend. In many ways she liked him better
+than any one she had met this winter. She wanted to know more about him.
+
+She tried to tear the letter open, but for all it was so damaged the
+paper had remained tough. She would wait to read it till she reached the
+summer house. That little vine-hung arbour had been in her thought ever
+since Dr. Prue proposed to bring her down to the park. She had a foolish
+desire to sit there and look at the river, and go on being honest with
+herself.
+
+Margaret Elizabeth, mounting the steps and looking at her letter as she
+did so, was confronted by somebody who started up in surprise from the
+bench where she had sat with her flowers that autumn day.
+
+For one surprised moment she and the stranger faced each other, then
+Miss Bentley exclaimed, "I saw the wagon at the gate, but I didn't know
+it was yours." And then the mischief faded into simple honest gladness
+as she held out her hand. "I certainly did not expect to see you," she
+added, "but you are an unexpected sort of person."
+
+"Nothing so wonderful as the chance of meeting you occurred to me for a
+moment," the Candy Man assured her. "In fact I was not certain you cared
+to see me." Those same pleasant eyes, so emphatically not the eyes of
+Augustus, looked into hers questioningly.
+
+Margaret Elizabeth held up the letter. "It was shipwrecked," she said.
+"I got it only a few minutes ago. I haven't read it. I thought it was
+you who didn't care to be friends."
+
+The Candy Man did not exactly understand how a letter could be
+shipwrecked in an overland journey of ten hours, but he dismissed it as
+of no importance. "It isn't worth reading now," he said. "It was just
+to make my adieus and ask if some time when I had lived down my past,"
+here he smiled, "I might come back and tell you my strange story. I was
+counting on your willingness to be friends. You remember you said it
+would do no harm to hope."
+
+"Oh, did I? And when you did not hear from me, what did you think?
+Honestly," asked Margaret Elizabeth.
+
+"I thought of course there must be a reason. A shipwreck did not occur
+to me."
+
+"Do you mean a reason for not being friends? But you came."
+
+"The suspense was too much for me. I haven't many friends; and besides,
+this is on the way to Texas."
+
+"So you are going to Texas this time?"
+
+It seemed the Candy Man had heard of an opening there.
+
+Margaret Elizabeth wanted to ask why he had come to the park, but
+something told her not to; instead she said, looking away to the shining
+river, "I know of no reason why we should not be friends. So I am ready
+to hear the story you speak of. Is it more strange than the adventures
+of a Candy Wagon?" Her eyes came back and met his as they had done the
+day when the conversation turned upon fairy godmothers. Margaret
+Elizabeth was not spoiled.
+
+"It is more serious," was his reply. "In fact, it is very serious.
+The Candy Wagon was a mere episode. What I wish to tell you now goes
+deeper."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER THIRTEEN
+
+_In which the Candy Man relates his story, and the Miser comes upon
+Volume I of the shabby book with the funny name._
+
+
+"I want you to know all about me," began the Candy Man, taking from his
+pocket the shabby little book Virginia had once remarked on, "so there
+may be no more wrong impressions."
+
+They sat in the sunshine on the top step of the little pavilion, facing
+the river. Margaret Elizabeth, supporting her chin in her hand, regarded
+him gravely. The west wind was cool on their faces.
+
+"I have often imagined myself telling you," he went on. "Not that there
+is much to it, besides its strangeness. In fact, to be brief, I don't
+know who I am."
+
+The surprise in Miss Bentley's eyes caused him to add quickly: "Not that
+I am a foundling. But my father and mother were lost at sea when I was
+three years old. We were coming from Victoria to San Francisco, when the
+steamer went down. Only a few of the passengers were saved, I among
+them."
+
+"How sad and terrible!" cried Margaret Elizabeth. "Can you remember it?
+How lost and lonely you must have been! Poor little child!"
+
+"I recall it only in a vague way," he answered, "confused with what has
+since been told me. When it was known that my parents were lost, a man
+and his wife, fellow passengers, offered to adopt me. Beyond the name
+'Robert Deane, Wife and Child,' on the list at the ship's office, they
+were unable to learn anything about me, and I was too young and
+bewildered to give any clue."
+
+"That is very strange," said Margaret Elizabeth. "Your new father and
+mother were kind to you?"
+
+"So kind I soon forgot the terror and loneliness, and grew happy and
+content. Everything was done to make me forget, and I think while they
+made every effort to find out something about me, they were glad when
+they failed. I wish now that my childish memories might have been
+fostered, for I find myself reaching back into a mist full of vague
+shapes.
+
+"My new father was a civil engineer, whose work took him here, there and
+everywhere throughout the broad West. I never knew a permanent home. My
+adopted mother died when I was twelve. After that came boarding school
+and college. About the time I left college my father's health failed,
+and for several years he was helpless and very dependent upon me, so
+I gave up my plan of entering a mining school.
+
+"It was during his illness that he began to speak to me of my own
+parents. He had talked to them on several occasions during the voyage,
+and he described them as young people of refinement and education. My
+mother, he thought from her speech, was English. They rather held aloof,
+he said, and seemed disinclined to mention their own affairs. While he
+was ill the news came to us of the finding in a storage warehouse in San
+Francisco of an old trunk which it seemed probable had belonged to my
+parents. Without going into detail, I may say it was through an old
+acquaintance of my adopted father's, who knew the circumstances of my
+adoption, that we heard of it. He had some interest in the warehouse,
+which was about to be torn down and rebuilt. This trunk was found in
+some forgotten corner where it had lain for twenty-five years."
+
+"And did it throw any light?" asked Margaret Elizabeth.
+
+"Not much, it rather deepened the mystery. There was little of
+significance in it, but this book and a package of letters. From them I
+learned nothing definite, but gathered the unwelcome probability that my
+father was under some sort of cloud, and was not using his real name.
+This was a matter of inference--of deduction, largely, but it was plain
+he had left his home in some sort of trouble.
+
+"It is not easy to piece together scattered allusions, when you have no
+clue. The letters were most of them written by my father to my mother,
+just before and soon after their marriage, with one or two from her to
+him. One of these, which I found between the leaves of this little book,
+I want you to read. It concludes my story, and to my mind lightens it a
+little."
+
+The letter the Candy Man held out to Margaret Elizabeth was written on
+thin paper, in a delicate angular hand.
+
+"Ought I to read it?" she demurred. "Are you sure she would like it?"
+
+"Somehow I am very sure," he answered. "And I feel that it will be a
+grip on our friendship. I have told you the worst, I wish you to know
+the best of me."
+
+She acquiesced, and, an elbow on her knee, shading her eyes with her
+hand, she read the letter, whose date was thirty years ago. Far back
+in the past this seemed to Margaret Elizabeth, yet it was a girl like
+herself who wrote.
+
+The first sentences were almost meaningless, so strong was the feeling
+that she had no right to be reading it at all, but as she went on she
+forgot her scruples. It was evidently a reply to a letter from her lover
+in which he had spoken of the cloud that hung over his name, and it was
+a confession of her faith in him, girlish, sweet and tender. "I trust
+you, Robert," it said. "It is in you to do heedless things, to be
+reckless, if only because you are young and eager and strong; but it
+is not in you to be dishonourable; of this I am as certain as I am of
+anything in life. Some day the truth will be known and you will be
+cleared, but whether it is or no, I choose to walk beside you. I choose
+it gladly, happily. I write the words again, gladly, happily, Robert.
+Yours, Mary."
+
+"Oh!" cried Margaret Elizabeth, lifting a glowing face, "I love Mary."
+
+"She was brave and unselfish," said the Candy Man.
+
+Margaret Elizabeth nodded. "Yes, that is one side of it. Still, you see,
+she was sure, and it was, as she says, a joy to cast in her lot with
+him. 'Gladly, happily.'" Her eyes shone. She gazed far away down the
+river. The wind blew little tendrils of bright hair across her cheek.
+"It must be so when you care very much," she went on.
+
+"But," argued the Candy Man, "under the stress of very noble feeling
+people sometimes do foolish things, do they not?"
+
+"But this was not. Do you think for a moment Mary ever regretted it?
+I see what you mean by the best of you. It is something to have such
+credentials." Margaret Elizabeth's gaze met the Candy Man's, and her
+eyes were deep as they had been on Christmas Eve, in the firelight.
+
+Oh, Margaret Elizabeth, it is your own fault, for being so dear, so
+unworldly! Could you, can you, cast in your lot with an unknown Candy
+Man? He has no business to ask you. He did not mean to, but only to
+prepare the way. He knows he is no great catch, even from the point of
+view of a Little Red Chimney. These are not the precise words of the
+Candy Man, but something like them....
+
+So absorbed was Margaret Elizabeth in the thought of Mary, she was a bit
+slow in taking in their meaning. She gave him one startled glance, and
+then looked down, as it happened, upon the shabby little book which lay
+on the step between them. Absently she drew it toward her, and with
+fingers that trembled, opened it, as if to find her answer in its pages.
+Then a smile began faintly to curl about her lips, and she read aloud
+from the book:
+
+    _"What we find then to accord with love and reason, that we may
+    safely pronounce right and good."_
+
+
+"Judged at the bar of reason I fear my case is hopeless," protested the
+Candy Man, putting out his hand to close the book.
+
+But Margaret Elizabeth clasped it to her breast. "I see nothing
+unreasonable in it," she declared stoutly. As she spoke a faded crimson
+flower fell in her lap.
+
+Somewhat later in the afternoon, Miss Bentley and the Candy Man,
+walking together along the river path, had they not been so engrossed
+in their own affairs, might have recognised the tall, stooping figure
+of the Miser strolling slowly ahead of them. It was for a minute only,
+for near a turn in the path he bent forward and disappeared in a thicket
+of althea bushes. At this season it was not a dense thicket, and Mr.
+Knight, poking in the soft mould with his cane in search of a certain
+tiny plant, had no thought of hiding, but, as it chanced, was unobserved
+by his friends.
+
+"Oh, Margaret Elizabeth," her companion was saying as they passed, "you
+are so dear! I have no business to be telling you so, but indeed I can't
+help it."
+
+And she with a little laugh replied: "I am glad you can't, Candy Man."
+And the next moment they were gone around the turn.
+
+That was all, but it was enough. What rarer flower was likely to come
+the Miser's way, on this or any day?
+
+He stood and looked after them. These two had brought into his grey
+life the touch of golden youth. He began to tremble under the force
+of a wonderful thought. He sought a bench and sank upon it. It would
+be a solution of his problem. He had come out to-day into the spring
+sunshine, feeling his burden more than he could bear, for in his pocket
+was a letter which put an end to the hope he had long cherished of at
+length righting a great wrong.
+
+There must be a way of doing what he wished. The consent of the Candy
+Man once gained, that hateful fortune, which through these years had
+been slowly crushing him, might become a minister of joy and well being,
+might make possible for others those best things of life that he had
+missed.
+
+The thought thrilled him. He rose and walked on, back to the pavilion,
+where he paused again to rest. There on the step lay the shabby book
+with the funny name and the small oval bit cut from the fly leaf,
+beneath which was the Candy Man's name, Robert Deane Reynolds.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER FOURTEEN
+
+_Shows how Mrs. Gerrard Pennington, unhappy and distraught, beseeches
+Uncle Bob to help her save Margaret Elisabeth; also how Mr. Gerrard
+Pennington comes to the rescue, and how in the end his wife submits
+gracefully to the inevitable, which is not so bad after all._
+
+
+When Mrs. Gerrard Pennington was shown into the room of the Little Red
+Chimney, there was nobody there. A chilly wind outside, which dashed
+the rain against the windows, only served to call attention to the
+pleasantness within. It was indeed an aggressively cheerful room,
+entirely out of keeping with Mrs. Pennington's mood. The open piano,
+the row of thrifty ferns on the window-sill, the new novel on the table
+with a foreign letter between its leaves, and the work basket beside
+it--which, by the way, was of sweet grass--all sang the same song to
+the accompaniment of the fire's quiet crackle.
+
+The burden of the song was Margaret Elizabeth. You saw her sitting bolt
+upright on the sofa, being very intense about something, or lost in
+thought, elbows on knees, on the ottoman beside the hearth, or occupied
+with that bit of embroidery, her curling lashes almost on her cheek. Oh,
+Margaret Elizabeth, how could you? How could you?
+
+Mrs. Pennington, pacing uneasily back and forth, glanced at the music on
+the piano rack.
+
+  "Oh, stay at home, my heart, and rest,
+  Home-keeping hearts are happiest,"
+
+it admonished her. In this disarming atmosphere she began to feel
+herself the victim of some wretched dream. Yet here in her bag was
+Margaret Elizabeth's note, found awaiting her on her return from Chicago
+an hour ago.
+
+In it her niece apologised contritely for the inexcusable manner in
+which she had spoken, and continued: "It makes me unhappy, dearest
+Aunt Eleanor, to think of disappointing you, for you have been the
+kindest aunt in the world, but I have discovered in the last few
+days what I ought to have known all along, that I cannot marry Mr.
+McAllister. The reason is there is some one else. He is neither rich
+nor of distinguished family, but there are things that count for more,
+at least to me. I shall see you very soon, and explain more fully.
+In the meantime think kindly, if you can, of your niece,
+
+MARGARET ELIZABETH."
+
+[Illustration: MRS. GERRARD PENNINGTON]
+
+This as it stood was bad enough, wrecking her dearest hopes at the
+moment when they had seemed most secure; but taken in connection with
+a story related in artless innocence by her travelling companion of
+yesterday, Teddy Brown, to use one of that gentleman's cherished
+phrases, it spelled tragedy.
+
+The Reporter had not been bent on mischief. Far from it. He was merely
+grappling bravely with the task of being agreeable to the great lady.
+Surely it was but natural that in the course of a long conversation the
+Candy Man's curious resemblance to Augustus should suggest itself as a
+topic; and given a gleam of something like interest in his companion's
+eyes, it was easy to continue from bad to worse.
+
+He lived in the same apartment house as Virginia, and from her he
+had heard of the Christmas tree, and the Candy Man's presence on the
+occasion; also of that old accident on the corner in which the Candy
+Man had figured as Miss Bentley's rescuer. No wonder those intuitions
+regarding a person who was not Augustus should have risen to torture
+Mrs. Pennington. All this circumstantial evidence was very black against
+Margaret Elizabeth, seemingly so honest and frank. No wonder Mrs.
+Pennington was distraught.
+
+Meanwhile, wherever her heart might be, Margaret Elizabeth herself
+was out. Uncle Bob, coming in, paper in hand, to greet the visitor
+cordially, could not imagine where she had gone, and peered around the
+room as if after all she might have escaped their notice. If she wasn't
+in, he was confident she would be, in the course of a few minutes, which
+confidence was not a logical deduction from known facts, but merely an
+untrustworthy inference, born of his surprise at finding her out at all.
+
+Placing a chair for Mrs. Pennington, he took one himself and regarded
+her genially. Some minutes of polite conversation followed, in the
+course of which Mrs. Pennington, concealing her agitation, spoke of her
+journey to Chicago in quest of colonial furnishings. Mr. Vandegrift in
+his turn brought forward Florida and orange groves.
+
+But Margaret Elizabeth delayed her coming, and Mrs. Pennington could
+stand it no longer. "Mr. Vandegrift," she began, after the silence that
+followed the last word on oranges, "I regret that my niece is not here,
+yet it may be as well to speak to you first. I may say, to make an
+appeal to you. You are, I am sure, fond of Margaret Elizabeth." She
+played nervously with the fastening of her shopping bag.
+
+Uncle Bob looked at her in surprise, then at the toe of his shoe. "I
+think I may safely admit it," he owned, crossing his knees and nodding
+his head.
+
+"Then, Mr. Vandegrift, I beseech you, with all the feeling of which I am
+capable, to unite with me in saving this misguided girl." At this point
+all her intuitions and fears rallied around Mrs. Pennington, and gave a
+quiver to her voice.
+
+Uncle Bob was astonished at her tone, and said so.
+
+"I assure you, Mr. Vandegrift, I have her own word for it." She produced
+a note from her bag.
+
+"Her word for what?" he asked.
+
+"Why, for--oh, Mr. Vandegrift, let us not waste time in futile fencing.
+You must know that Margaret Elizabeth has deceived me; has been guilty
+of base ingratitude; has been meeting clandestinely a person--a mere
+adventurer. I can scarcely bring myself to say it. My brother Richard's
+daughter!" Mrs. Pennington had recourse to her handkerchief.
+
+Uncle Bob uncrossed his knees and sat bolt upright. "Madame," he
+exclaimed, "I am sorry for your distress, whatever its cause, but let me
+assure you, you are under some grave mistake. My niece has met no one
+clandestinely, and is incapable of deceit and treachery."
+
+"Do I understand then that it was with your connivance?"
+
+"I have connived at nothing, Madame, and I know of no adventurer." Uncle
+Bob took his penknife from his pocket and tapped on the table with it.
+His manner was legal in the extreme. He was enjoying himself.
+
+Mrs. Pennington looked over her handkerchief. "But she says,
+herself----"
+
+"Says she has been guilty of deceit and treachery? Has been meeting an
+adventurer clandestinely? Pardon me, but this is incredible."
+
+"What is incredible, Uncle Bob?" came a voice from the half-open door,
+unmistakably that of the accused. "I'll be there as soon as I get off my
+raincoat," it added.
+
+"It is hopeless to try to make you understand," Mrs. Pennington almost
+sobbed, the while sounds from the hall indicated that some one beside
+Margaret Elizabeth was removing a raincoat. A horrible dread suddenly
+smote her, lest it be that person. A sleepless night and her distress
+had unnerved her. She felt herself unequal to the encounter.
+
+She glanced about helplessly for a way of escape, but there was none.
+"Tell him not to come in. I cannot see him now," she begged tragically
+of Uncle Bob, who, honestly mystified now, stood between her and the
+door, looking from it to her.
+
+"She says not to come in," he repeated to Margaret Elizabeth's
+companion, who was following her in.
+
+"Why, Aunt Eleanor, I didn't know it was you! They told me your train
+was late. And oh, what is the matter? What are you crying about? Is it
+I?" Margaret Elizabeth, with raindrops on her hair, knelt beside her
+aunt and embraced her, pressing a cool cheek against that lady's
+fevered one.
+
+Mrs. Pennington, her face hidden in her hands, continued to murmur, "I
+cannot see him. I cannot see him."
+
+"In the name of heaven, Eleanor, why can't you see me? Why must I not
+come in?" demanded a familiar voice which brought her to with a shock.
+
+"Gerrard!" she cried, in her surprise revealing a sadly tear-stained
+countenance.
+
+Uncle Bob beat a retreat into the hall, where he paused, chuckling to
+himself.
+
+"Certainly it is I. Who should it be?" said her husband, taking a seat
+beside her. "Why are you making such a sight of yourself, my dear? When
+I telephoned out to know if you had arrived, they said you had and had
+gone out again immediately, no one knew where. I came out to talk over
+some business with William Knight, and when I was leaving I saw your car
+over here, and thought I'd join you; but if my presence is unbearable,
+I will withdraw." Mr. Pennington smiled at Margaret Elizabeth.
+
+"Don't be silly, please, I have had a most trying day. I don't expect
+you to understand."
+
+Mrs. Pennington was recovering her poise. There was something
+irresistibly steadying in her husband's matter-of-fact statement, and in
+the sight of her niece sitting back on her heels and looking up at her
+with lovely, solicitous eyes. Treachery and deceit became meaningless
+terms in such connection.
+
+"You haven't given us a chance to understand, Eleanor. What is the
+trouble?" Mr. Pennington demanded.
+
+"Uncle Gerry, I am afraid it is I," said Margaret Elizabeth, picking up
+the note from the floor where it had fallen. "I am sorry, you know I am,
+that I can't do as she wishes, but you understand that I can't. Tell
+her, please, that I did honestly try to think I could, but it wasn't of
+any use."
+
+"Oh, come now, Eleanor, if that is it, of course we wanted Margaret
+Elizabeth up at the Park; but the young people of this generation like
+to manage their own affairs, as we did before them." Mr. Pennington
+looked quizzically at his niece. "She's been getting up a bit of
+melodrama for our benefit, that's all. If you will pardon the
+suggestion, my dear, I think possibly it is you who do not understand."
+
+Margaret Elizabeth, rising from her lowly position, threw him a kiss
+over her aunt's head.
+
+"How can I be expected to, with everything shrouded in mystery?" cried
+Mrs. Pennington. "Why have I never heard of this person before? Why was
+I left to be told dreadful things by a reporter?"
+
+"A reporter!" cried Margaret Elizabeth, in her turn aghast.
+
+"Nonsense! If you heard anything dreadful you know Margaret Elizabeth
+well enough to know it was not true. But how in the world could a
+reporter have got hold of it?"
+
+"You speak so confidently, Gerrard, tell me, what do you know about this
+man?" Mrs. Pennington looked from her niece to her husband. "Margaret
+Elizabeth seems to have completely won you to her side," she added.
+
+"It is really a very strange story, Eleanor, and to begin at the end of
+it, we have quite sufficient evidence, in my opinion, to prove that he
+is the son of my old comrade, Robert Waite."
+
+Mrs. Pennington fixed surprised eyes upon her husband. Margaret
+Elizabeth sat down and folded her hands in her lap.
+
+"You recall how Rob disappeared, without a word to any of his friends?
+It was not till some years after the general's death that I had the
+least clue to it; then William Knight came to me to know if I could
+give any help in tracing him. He owned that there had been some trouble
+between General Waite and Robert, and that the latter had been unjustly
+treated. I couldn't give him any assistance, and I never discussed it
+with him again. Knight was always close-mouthed, and it was only the
+other day that I learned what the trouble was. It seems the general
+suspected his nephew of taking a large sum of money from the safe in his
+library. It was one of those cases of complete circumstantial evidence.
+Rob was known to have lost money on the races. He was the only one
+beside the general himself who had access to the safe, and who knew that
+this money, several thousand dollars, was there at this time. That is,
+so it was supposed.
+
+"Knowing them both, one can easily understand the outcome. Robert
+disappeared, and a few years later, when the general died, he left his
+fortune to William Knight, his wife's nephew. Then after some little
+time the real thief turned up. I won't go into that, further than to
+say that it was through a deathbed confession to a priest. Since then
+Knight has been searching far and wide for some trace of Robert, only
+to receive last week the evidence of his death twenty-five years ago.
+And now comes the strange part of the story. The very day on which
+he received this news, Knight came by chance upon a book which he
+recognised as once the property of Robert Waite. The owner's name was
+cut from the fly leaf, but below it was written the name of a young
+man whose acquaintance he had made last winter, Robert Deane Reynolds.
+Deane was Rob's middle name, so naturally it led to an investigation."
+
+Mr. Pennington looked over at Margaret Elizabeth. "Have I told a
+straight story?" he asked.
+
+"There were letters, you know," she prompted.
+
+"Oh, yes. This young man had letters which I could have identified
+anywhere."
+
+Mrs. Pennington was interested. She asked questions. That absurd story
+about a Candy Wagon was untrue then? But how had Margaret Elizabeth met
+this person? She still referred to him as a person. And somehow the
+united efforts of Margaret Elizabeth and Mr. Pennington failed to clear
+up the mystery, though they did their best.
+
+Even if the Candy Wagon episode was to be regarded as humorous, though
+it did not present itself in that light to Mrs. Pennington, how could
+Margaret Elizabeth have asked a Candy Man to her Christmas tree?
+
+"But you see, by that time I knew he wasn't real, Aunt Eleanor, and
+anyway--"
+
+"Now go slow, Margaret Elizabeth," cautioned her uncle. "At heart you
+are a confounded little socialist, but take my advice and keep it to
+yourself." He was thinking of what she had said to him only the day
+before: "You see, Uncle Gerry, you can't have everything. You have
+to choose. And while I like bigness and richness, I like Little Red
+Chimneys and what they stand for, best. I want to be on speaking terms
+with both ends, you see."
+
+"It is odd," Mr. Pennington went on, "the tricks heredity plays, and
+that this young man and Augustus McAllister should both hark back to a
+common ancestor for their general characteristics of build and feature.
+I was struck with the resemblance, myself."
+
+"It was what first attracted me," owned Margaret Elizabeth demurely.
+
+The name of Augustus still had painful associations for Mrs. Pennington.
+She rose. "Really we must be going," she said. At some future time she
+felt she might be able to meet Mr. Reynolds or Waite, or whatever his
+name was, with equanimity, but now she was thankful to hear he had gone
+back to Chicago for some papers.
+
+She received Margaret Elizabeth's farewell embrace languidly. "Since
+there is such weight of authority in your favour, and matters have
+developed so strangely, there is nothing for me to say. I dislike
+mystery, and prefer to have things go on regularly and according to
+precedent. It is your welfare I have at heart."
+
+Mr. Pennington's good-by was different.
+
+"I don't wonder you like it down here, Margaret Elizabeth--this room,
+you know," he said.
+
+As they drove homeward Mrs. Pennington was engaged in mentally
+reconstructing affairs. "Of course," she heard herself saying, "it was
+a disappointment to me, but romantic girls are not to be controlled by
+common-sense aunts, and really it might be worse." And she remarked
+aloud: "The fact that he is a nephew of General Waite means something."
+
+"That's so," assented her husband. "Something like half a million.
+Old Knight is determined to hand it all over." He smiled to himself,
+then added: "He came to see me--the young man, I mean. I liked him.
+He suggested Rob a little without resembling him. Very gentlemanly;
+nice eyes."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER FIFTEEN
+
+_In which the Fairy Godmother Society is again mentioned, among other
+things_.
+
+
+"But it is really embarrassing when I had made up my mind to marry a
+poor Candy Man to have it turn out so. I rather liked defying common
+sense," said Margaret Elizabeth.
+
+The Candy Man had made a hurried journey to Chicago, and was back before
+the rain was over, and while it was still cold enough for a fire, so
+that his old dream of sometime sitting by the Little Red Chimney's
+hearth was coming true. Margaret Elizabeth in the blue dress, by
+request, though she declared it wasn't fit to be seen, occupied the
+ottoman, her elbows on her knees, the firelight playing in her bright
+hair.
+
+"It is the way it happens in fairy-tales," urged the Candy Man. "And I
+really couldn't help it."
+
+"Of course you are right," she agreed. "As Virginia's story runs, 'He
+turned into a prince, and because Violetta had been true to him through
+thick and thin, he made her a princess.' Anyhow, Candy Man, I'm glad I
+chose you before your good fortune came."
+
+"It was an extremely venturesome thing to do, Girl of All Others, as
+I have told you before, though immensely flattering to me. I have to
+take the money, there is no way out of it. I believe it would break our
+Miser's heart if I refused. Do you know what he was proposing to do
+before he found the book?"
+
+"What?" asked Margaret Elizabeth.
+
+"To adopt me. You see we had come to be pretty good friends last
+winter, and I think he suspected from the start that I had rather lofty
+aspirations for a Candy Man. In a Little Red Chimney direction--you
+understand?"
+
+"Perfectly--go on."
+
+"Well, he saw us in the park----"
+
+"And his suspicions were confirmed, I suppose," put in Margaret
+Elizabeth, coolly.
+
+"Exactly. And knowing from what I had told him previously that I had
+my fortune to seek, it occurred to him that as the channel he had been
+hoping for had been closed, the next best thing would be to make it
+possible for two young persons to----"
+
+"The dear old Miser!" interrupted Margaret Elizabeth. "But why is he so
+unwilling to use the money himself? It is honestly his."
+
+"I may not fully understand, but I think from things he has said, that
+as a boy he was jealous of my father. This feeling would naturally make
+him, when it came to the test, not unwilling to believe in his guilt.
+Then, being reticent and introspective, he magnified all this a
+thousandfold when the truth came out, and he realised he had profited by
+the unjust suspicion. By dwelling upon it he came to feel as if he had
+actually obtained the money himself by unfair means. But I am convinced
+that if he did encourage his uncle to believe in my father's guilt, it
+was because he firmly believed it himself. Never since the facts were
+known has he regarded the money as his, and not until he had almost
+exhausted his own means in the effort to trace the rightful owner, as
+he regarded him, did he use a penny of it."
+
+"It is so touching to see his surprise and gratitude that I do not feel
+resentful toward him," added the Candy Man. "His joy at handing over
+this fortune is wonderful. He already looks a different man."
+
+"We must make it up to him in some way," said Margaret Elizabeth. "I
+mean for all these lonely years. Speaking of money, I'll tell you what
+I have been thinking. When we build our house, as I suppose we shall
+some day, when we come back from our search for the Archaeologist----"
+
+"By all means. That is one mitigating circumstance. We can build a
+house," responded the Candy Man.
+
+"Well, as I was going to say, we must have a Little Red Chimney. The
+house will be broad and low," she extended her arms, "and with wings;
+I love wings. One of them shall have a Little Red Chimney all its own.
+It shall stand for our ideals. If we should be tempted to a sort of life
+that separates us from our fellows, it will remind us, you, that you
+once sat in a Candy Wagon, me, that I fell in love with a Candy Man. And
+I'll tell you what, speaking of the Miser. Don't you remember? It was he
+you meant that day when we were talking about the Fairy Godmother
+Society, and----"
+
+Of course the Candy Man remembered.
+
+"Then, let's organise and make him chief agent while we are gone. I know
+of a number of things to be done."
+
+"So do I," said the Candy Man. "There is my fellow lodger, the one I
+told you about, a teacher in the High School. He needs a real change
+this summer, he and his wife."
+
+"Oh, I am sure we can work it out," cried Margaret Elizabeth.
+
+"I am sure we can," he assented.
+
+"You see it will begin where organised charity leaves off, of necessity.
+Also where that can't possibly penetrate, and it will be singularly
+free, because secret."
+
+"Again you sound like the minutes of the first meeting," said the Candy
+Man.
+
+"Margaret Elizabeth!"
+
+It was Uncle Bob's voice at the door. "I hate to disturb you, but that
+old bore at the club wants your father's address."
+
+"You aren't disturbing. Come in and hear about the Fairy Godmother
+Society."
+
+"You don't mean really?" Uncle Bob stood before the hearth and looked
+from his niece to the Candy Man.
+
+"Indeed we do," she answered. "You see we have ten times as much money
+as we thought we had. So why not?"
+
+"Quite correct, as we thought we hadn't any," murmured the Candy Man.
+
+Uncle Bob rubbed his hands in delight. "I told Prue you'd do something
+of the sort; that you wouldn't just settle down to be ordinary rich
+people. But Prue says riches bring caution."
+
+Margaret Elizabeth, going to her desk for the address, laughed. "We
+aren't going to forget our humble beginning," she said; "and we'll act
+quickly before we are inured to our new estate."
+
+"But then, you know, there is another side to it," her uncle interposed,
+in a sudden access of prudence. "You must consider the matter carefully
+with an eye to the future. For instance now, there may be heirs."
+
+A silence fell. The fire crackled, and the clock ticked with unusual
+distinctness. Then Margaret Elizabeth spoke.
+
+"Here's the address," she said. "I'll put it in your pocket, where you
+can't forget it." And as she tucked it in, she added, stoutly, with a
+lovely deepening of the colour in her cheek: "If there are, Uncle Bob,
+they will be fairy god-brothers and sisters, so it will be all right."
+
+It was after the door had closed upon Uncle Bob, and Margaret Elizabeth
+was back on her low seat again, that the Candy Man left his chair and
+sat on the rug beside her. "Girl of All Others, is there any one else
+in the world as happy as I?" he asked.
+
+Margaret Elizabeth smiled at him with eyes that answered the question
+before she spoke. Then she said, slipping her hand into his, "One
+other."
+
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The Little Red Chimney, by Mary Finley Leonard
+
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