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diff --git a/20661-h/20661-h.htm b/20661-h/20661-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..837b41c --- /dev/null +++ b/20661-h/20661-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,4257 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Romance of an Old Fool, by Roswell Field + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + p.fm { margin-top: 3em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: 3em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 65%; + margin-top: 1.5em; + margin-bottom: 1.5em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + .dropcap {float: left; width: .5em; font-size: 4em; line-height: 80%; + padding-right: .3em; + /* text drop caps */ } + .dropcapn {float: left; width: .5em; font-size: 4em; line-height: 80%; + padding-right: 0em; + /* narrow text drop caps */ } + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; right: 3%; + font-size: 75%; + text-align: right; + text-indent: 0em; + font-style: normal; + font-weight: normal; + color: silver; background-color: inherit; + font-variant: normal;} /* page numbers */ + .pagenum a {text-decoration: none; color: silver; background-color: inherit;} + + a {text-decoration: none;} + p.cite { /* citation at end of blockquote or poem */ + margin-left: 70%; + text-indent: -5em; /* gimmick to move 2nd line right */} + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Romance of an Old Fool, by Roswell Field + +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 Romance of an Old Fool + +Author: Roswell Field + +Release Date: February 24, 2007 [EBook #20661] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ROMANCE OF AN OLD FOOL *** + + + + +Produced by Audrey Longhurst, Suzan Flanagan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<hr /> +<h1> +<i>The</i> ROMANCE OF<br /> +AN OLD FOOL<br /> +</h1> +<hr /> + +<h2>THE ROMANCE</h2> + +<h5>OF</h5> + +<h1>AN OLD FOOL</h1> + +<h5>BY</h5> + +<h3>ROSWELL FIELD</h3> +<p class="fm"> </p> + +<h4>EVANSTON<br /> +WILLIAM S. LORD</h4> +<h5>1902</h5> + +<hr /> + +<h4><i>Copyright, 1902, by</i><br /> +<span class="smcap">Roswell Field</span></h4> + +<p class="fm"> </p> +<h5>UNIVERSITY PRESS · JOHN WILSON<br /> +AND SON · CAMBRIDGE, U.S.A.</h5> + +<hr /> +<p class="center"><i>To</i><br /> +MY GODCHILDREN</p> + +<p class="center"><i>With the somewhat unnecessary assurance that<br /> +it is not an autobiography, this little<br /> +tale of misconceived attachment<br /> +is affectionately<br /> +inscribed</i> +</p> +<hr /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1" href="#Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> + +<h2>THE ROMANCE <i>of</i><br /> +AN OLD FOOL</h2> + + +<p><span class="dropcapn">I</span><span style="margin-left: -.7em;"><b>F</b></span> it had not been for Bunsey, the +novelist, I might have attained the +heights. As a critic Bunsey has +never commanded my highest admiration, +and yet I have had my tender moments +for him. From a really exacting standpoint +he was not much of a novelist, and +to his failure to win the wealth which is +supposed to accompany fame I may have +owed much of the debt of his sustained +presence and his fondness for my tobacco. +Bunsey had started out in life with high +ideals, a resolution to lead the purely literary +existence and to supply the market +with a variety of choice, didactic essays +along the line of high thinking; but the +demand did not come up to the supply, +and presently he abandoned his original +lofty intention in favor of a sort of dubious +romance. The financial returns, however, +while a trifle more regular and encouraging,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2" href="#Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span> +were not of sufficient importance to +justify him in giving up his friendly claims +on my house, my library, my time, my +favorite lounge, and my best brand of +cigars, in return for which he contributed +philosophic opinions and much strenuous +advice on topics in general and literature +in particular.</p> + +<p>From my childhood I have been in +the habit of keeping a diary, a running +comment on the daily incidents of my +pleasant but uneventful life, and occasionally, +when Bunsey's society seemed too +assertive and familiar, I sought to punish +him by reading long and numerous excerpts. +To do him justice he took the +chastisement meekly, and even insisted +that I was burying a remarkable talent, +sometimes going to the magnanimous extreme +of offering to introduce me to his +publisher, and to speak a good word for +me to the editors of certain magazines +with whom he maintained a brisk correspondence, +not infrequently of a querulous +nature. All these friendly offices I gently<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3" href="#Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span> +put aside, in recalling the degradation of +Bunsey's ideals, though I went on tolerating +Bunsey, who had a good heart and an +insistent manner. In this way I possibly +deprived myself of a glorious career.</p> + +<p>My ability to befriend Bunsey was due +to a felicitous chain of circumstances. +When the late Mrs. Stanhope passed to +her reward, she considerately left behind +a document making me the recipient of +her entire and not inconsiderable fortune. +This proved a most unexpected blow to +the church, which had enjoyed the honor +and pleasure of Mrs. Stanhope's association, +and which, quite naturally, had +hoped to profit by her decease. The +late Mrs. Stanhope, who I neglected to +say was, in the eyes of Heaven, the world, +and the law, my wife, had not lived with +me in that utter abandonment to conjugal +affection so much to be desired. We +married to please our families, and we +lived apart as much as possible to please +ourselves. Though not without certain +physical charms, Mrs. Stanhope was a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4" href="#Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> +woman of great moral rigidity and religious +austerity, who saw life through the +diminishing end of a sectarian telescope, +and who cared far more for the distant +heathen than for the local convivial pagans +who composed my <i>entourage</i>. She had +brought to me a considerable sum of +money, which I had increased by judicious +investments, and I dare say that it +was in recognition of my business ability, +as well as possibly in a moment of +becoming wifely remorse, that she bequeathed +to me her property intact. I +gave her final testimonial services wholly +in keeping with her standing as a church-woman, +and I must say for my friends, +whom she had severely ignored during +her life, that they behaved very handsomely +on that mournful occasion. They +turned out in large numbers, and testified +in other ways to their regard for her unblemished +character. I recall, not without +emotion after all these years, that +Bunsey's memorial tribute to the church +paper—for which he never received a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5" href="#Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> +dollar—was a model of appreciation as +well as of Christian forgiveness and self-forgetfulness.</p> + +<p>The passing of Mrs. Stanhope made it +possible for me to put into operation the +long-desired plan of retiring a little way +into the country, not too far from the +seductions of the club and the city, but +far enough to conform to the tastes of a +country gentleman who likes to whistle +to his dogs, putter over his roses, and +meditate in a comfortable library with +the poets and philosophers of his fancy. +Here, with my good house-keeper, Prudence—a +name I chose in preference to +her mother's selection, Elizabeth—and +my gardener and man of affairs, Malachy, +I lived for a number of years at peace +with the world and perfectly satisfied with +myself. Although I was dangerously +over forty, and my hair, which had been +impressively dark, was conspicuously gray +in spots, my figure was good, my dress +correct, and my mirror told me that I +was still in a position to be in the matrimonial<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6" href="#Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> +running if I tried. I mention +these trifling physical details merely to +save my modesty the humiliation and +annoyance of referring to them in future, +and to prepossess the gentle reader wherever +the sex makes it highly important.</p> + +<p>I do not deny that in certain moments +of loneliness which come to us, widowers +and bachelors alike, I had the impulse to +tempt again the matrimonial fortune, and +counting on my financial standing, together +with other attractions, I ran over +the eligible ladies of my acquaintance. +But one was a little too old, and another +was a good deal too flighty. One was +too fond of society, and another did not +like dogs. A fifth spoiled her chances +by an unwomanly ignorance of horticulture, +and a sixth perished miserably after +returning to me one of my most cherished +books with the leaves dog-eared and the +binding cracked. For I hold with the +greatest philosophers that she who maltreats +a book will never make a good +wife. And so the years slipped cosily<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7" href="#Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> +and cheerily by, while I grew more contented +with my environment and less +envious of my married friends, and whenever +temporary melancholy overtook me +I moved into the club for a month, or +slipped across the water, finding in the +change of scene immediate relief from the +monotony of widowerhood.</p> + +<p>In thus fortifying myself against the +wiles of woman I was much abetted by +my good Prudence, who never ceased her +exhortations as to the sinister designs of +her sex, and who had a ready word of +discouragement for any possible candidate +who might be in the line of succession. +"I see that Rogers woman walkin' by +the house to-day, Mr. John," she would +begin, "and I see her turnin' her nose +up at the new paint on the arbor." (I +selected that color myself.) "It's queer +how that woman does give herself airs, +considerin' everybody knows she's been +ready for ten years to take the fust man +that asks her." Prudence knew that I +had escorted the elderly Miss Rogers to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8" href="#Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> +the theatre only the week before, and +had commented pleasantly on the elegance +of her figure. But the slight put +upon my eye for color was too much. +Wily Prudence!</p> + +<p>Or a day or two after I had rendered +an act of neighborly kindness to the bereaved +Mrs. Stebbins she would say +quite casually:</p> + +<p>"I don't want to utter one word agin +the poor and afflicted, Mr. John, but +when the Widder Stebbins hit Cleo with +a broom to-day I own I b'iled over. I +shouldn't tell you if it warn't my duty."</p> + +<p>Cleopatra was my favorite cocker +spaniel, and any faint impression my fair +neighbor may have made on my unguarded +heart was immediately dispelled. +Thus subtly and vigilantly my house-keeper +kept the outer gates of the citadel, +and shooed away a possible mistress as +effectually as she dispersed the predatory +hens from the garden patch.</p> + +<p>But with the younger generation of +women, good Prudence was less cautious.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9" href="#Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> +Any maiden under the very early twenties +she regarded fair material for my friendly +offices, and frequently she visited me +with expressions commendatory of good +conduct.</p> + +<p>"I likes to see you with the children, +Mr. John, bless 'em, sir. And they do +all seem to be so fond of you. There's +nothin' that keeps the heart so young +and fresh as goin' with young people, +just as nothin' ages a man so much as +havin' a lot of widders and designin' old +maids about. Of course," she added, +with a return of her natural suspicion, +"you are old enough to be father to the +whole bunch, which keeps people from +talkin'."</p> + +<p>Whether it was Prudence's approbation +or my own inclination I cannot say, +but it soon came about that I was on +paternally familiar terms with the entire +neighborhood of maidens of reasonably +tender years, and a very important factor +in young feminine councils. These artful +creatures knew exactly when their favorite<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10" href="#Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> +roses were in bloom, exactly when the +cherries back of the house were ripe, exactly +when it was time to go to town for +another theatre party, to give a picnic up +the river, or a small and informal dance +in the parlors. I was expected to remember +and observe all birthdays, to be +a well-spring of benevolence at Christmas, +and a free and never-failing florist at +Easter. I was the recipient of all young +griefs and troubles, and no girl ever committed +herself unconditionally to the arms +of her lover until she had talked the +matter over with Uncle John. All this, +to a good-looking man of—well, considerably +over forty, was flattering, but no +sinecure.</p> + +<p>One morning, in the late spring, it came +over me unhappily that in a moment of +fatal forgetfulness I had promised to be +present that evening at a card-party—a +promise exacted by the "Rogers woman," +<i>persona non grata</i> to Prudence. A card-party +was to me in the category with +battle and murder and sudden death, from<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11" href="#Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> +which we all petition to be delivered in +the book of common prayer—but how to +be delivered? I could not be called suddenly +to town, for I had already run that +excuse to its full limit. I could not conveniently +start for Europe on an hour's +notice. The plea of sickness I dismissed +as feminine and unworthy. And while I +sat debating to what extreme I could tax +my over-burdened conscience, Malachy appeared +with the information that he had +discovered unmistakable signs of cutworms +in the rose-bushes, and that the local custodians +of the trees were thundering +against an impending epidemic of brown-tailed +moth. Surely my path of duty led +to the garden. But that card-party? No, +let the cutworm work his will, and let the +brown-tailed moth corrupt; I must take +refuge in flight, however inglorious. It +was then that the good angel, who never +forsakes a well-meaning man, whispered +to me that far back in a quiet corner of +New England was the little village where +I had passed my boyhood, which I had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12" href="#Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> +deserted for five and twenty years, but +which still remembered me as "Johnny" +Stanhope, thanks to the officious longevity +of the editor of the county paper.</p> + +<p>The situation I explained briefly to +Prudence and Malachy, and swore them +into the conspiracy. I threw a few clothes +into a small trunk, despatched a hypocritical +note of regret to Miss Rogers, caught +the noon train, and was soon beyond the +danger line. Mrs. Lot, casting an apprehensive +glance behind her, could not have +dreaded more fearful consequences than I, +looking back on the calamity I was evading. +But as we went on and on into the +cool, quiet country, and felt the soft air +stealing down from the nearing mountains, +I began to experience a lively sense of relief +and pleasure, and to wonder why I +had so long delayed a visit to my boyhood +home.</p> + +<p>I am sorry for the man whose childhood +knew only the roar and bustle and swiftly +shifting scenes of the city. For him there +is no return in after years, no illusion to be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13" href="#Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> +renewed, no joy of youth to be substantiated. +His habitation has passed away or +yielded to the inroads of commerce, his +landmarks have vanished, and he is bewildered +by the strange sights that time +and trade have put upon his memories. +But time has no terrors for the country-bred +boy. The Almighty does not change +the mountains and the rivers and the +great rocks that fortify the scenery, and +man is slow to push back into the far +meadowlands and the hillsides, and destroy +the simple, primitive life of the +fathers.</p> + +<p>All of the joy that such a returning pilgrim +might have I felt when I left the +train at the junction, and, scorning the +pony engine and combination car supplied +in later years by the railway company as a +tribute to progress, set out to walk the two +miles to the village. Every foot of the +country I had played over as a boy. Here +was the field where Deacon Skinner did his +"hayin'"; just beyond the deacon raised +his tobacco crop. That roof over there,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14" href="#Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> +which I once detected as the top of Jim +Pomeroy's barn, reminded me of the day +of the raisin', when I sprained my ankle +and thereby saved myself a thrashing for +running away. Here was Pickerel Pond, +the scene of many miraculous draughts, +and now I crossed Peach brook which +babbled along under the road just as +saucily and untiringly as if it had slept +all these years and was just awaking +to fresh life. A hundred rods up the +brook was the Widow Parsons's farm, and +I knew that if I went through the side +gate, cut across the barnyard, and kept +down to the left, I should find that same +old stump on which Bill Howland sat +the day he caught the biggest dace ever +pulled out of the quiet pool.</p> + +<p>The sun was going down behind Si +Thompson's planing mill as I stopped +at the little red covered bridge that +marked the boundary of the village. +Silas had been dead for twenty years, but +it seemed to me that it was only yester<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15" href="#Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span>day +that I heard his nasal twang above +the roar of the machinery: "Sa-ay, you +fellers want to git out o' that!" The +little bridge had lost much of its color +and most of its impressiveness, for I +remembered when to my boyish fancy +it seemed a greater triumph of engineering +than the Victoria bridge at Montreal. +And the same old thrill went through +me as I started to run—just as I did +when a boy—and felt the planks loosen +and creak under my feet. Here was a +home-coming worth the while.</p> + +<p>Hank Pettigrew kept the village tavern. +The memory of man, so far as I knew, +ran not back to the time when Hank +did not keep the tavern. So I was not +in the least surprised, as I entered, to +see the old man, with his chair tilted +back against the wall, his knees on a +level with his chin, and his eyes fixed +on a chromo of "Muster Day," which +had descended to him through successive +generations. He did not move as I +advanced, or manifest the slightest emo<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16" href="#Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span>tion +of surprise, merely saying, "Hullo, +Johnny," as if he expected me to remark +that mother had sent me over to see +if he had any ice cream left over from +dinner. It probably did not occur to +Hank that I had been absent twenty-five +years. If it had occurred to him, +he would have considered such a trifling +flight of time not worth mentioning.</p> + +<p>With the question of lodging and supper +disposed of, and with the modest bribe of +a cigar, which Hank furtively exchanged +for a more accustomed brand of valley +leaf, it was not difficult to loosen the +old landlord's tongue and secure information +of my playmates. What had +become of Teddy Grover, the pride of +our school on exhibition day? Could +we ever forget the afternoon he stood +up before the minister and the assembled +population and roared "Marco Bozzaris" +until we were sure the sultan was quaking +in his seraglio? And how he thundered +"Blaze with your serried columns, +I will not bend the knee!" To our<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17" href="#Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> +excited imaginations what dazzling triumphs +the future held out for Teddy.</p> + +<p>"Yep; Ted's still a-beout. Three days +in the week he drives stage coach over to +Spicerville, and the rest o' the time he +does odd jobs—sort o' tendin' round."</p> + +<p>And Sallie Cotton—black-eyed, curly-haired, +mischievous little sprite, the +agony of the teacher and the love and +admiration of the boys! Who climbed +trees, rattled to school in the butcher +wagon, never knew a lesson, but was +always leading lady in the school colloquies, +and was surely destined to rise +to eminence on the American stage if +she did not break her neck tumbling out +of old Skinner's walnut tree?</p> + +<p>"Oh, Sal; she married the Congregational +minister down to Peterfield, and +was 'lected president of the Temperance +Union and secretary of the Endeavorers. +Read a piece down at Fust Church last +week on 'Breakin' Away from Old Standards,' +illustratin' the alarmin' degen'racy +of children nowadays."</p> + +<p>And George Hawley, our Achilles, our<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18" href="#Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> +Samson, our ideal of everything manly +and courageous! Strong as an ox and +brave as a lion! Our champion in every +form of athletic sports! Who looked with +contempt on girls and disdained their +maidenly advances! Who thought only +of deeds of muscular prowess, and who +seemed to carry the assurance of a force +that would lead armies and subdue nations! +What of George?</p> + +<p>"Wa-al, George was a-beout not long +ago. Had your room for his samples. +Travellin' for a house down in Boston, +and comes here reg'lar. Women folks +say his last line o' shirt waists war the +best they ever see."</p> + +<p>Oh, the times that change, and change +us! Alas, the fleeting years, good Posthumus, +that work such havoc with our childhood +dreams and hopes and aspirations!</p> + +<p>It was a relief, after the shattering of +these idols, to leave the society of the +communicative Mr. Pettigrew and wander +into the moonlight. Save as adding +beauty to the scenery, the moon was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19" href="#Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> +comparatively of no assistance, for so +well was the little village stamped on my +memory, and so little had it changed +in the quarter of a century, that I +could have walked blindfolded to any +suggested point. Naturally I turned my +steps toward the home of my youth, +and as I drew near the old-fashioned, +many-gabled house, with its settled, substantial +air, austere yet inviting, its large +yard with the huge elms, and the big lamp +burning in the library or "sittin'-room," +where I first dolefully studied the geography +that told me of a world outside, it +seemed to bend toward me rather frigidly +as if to say reproachfully: "You sold me! +you sold me!" True, dear old home; +in my less prosperous days I was guilty of +the crime of selling the house that faithfully +sheltered my family for a hundred +years. But have I not repented? And +have I not returned to buy you back, and +to make such further reparation as present +conditions and true repentance demand? +Is this less the pleasure than the duty of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20" href="#Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> +wealth?</p> + +<p>With what sensations of delight I walked +softly about the grounds, taking note of +every familiar tree and bush and stump. +I could have sworn that not a twig, not a +blade of grass, had been despoiled or had +disappeared in the years that marked my +absence. I paused reverently under the +old willow tree and affectionately rubbed +my legs, for from this tree my parents had +cut the instruments of torture for purposes +of castigation, and its name, the +weeping willow, was always associated +in my infant mind with the direct results +of contact with my unwilling person. On +a level with the top of the willow was the +little attic room where I slept, and the more +sweetly when the crickets chirped, or the +summer rain beat upon the roof, and where +the song of the birds in the morning is +the happiest music God has given to the +country. Back of the woodshed I found +the remains of an old grindstone, perhaps +the same heavy crank I had so often perspiringly +and reluctantly turned. Indeed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21" href="#Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> +my reviving memories were rather too +generously connected with the strenuousness +and not the pleasures of youth, but I +thought of the well-filled lot in the old +burying-ground on the hillside, and of +those lying there who had said: "My +boy, I am doing this for your good." I +doubted it at the time, but perhaps they +were right. At all events the memories +were growing pleasanter, for a stretch of +thirty-five years has many healing qualities, +and our childhood griefs are such little +things in the afterglow.</p> + +<p>In the early morning I renewed my rambles, +going first to the little frame school-house, +the old church with its tall spire, +the saw-mill, the deacon's cider press, the +swimming pool, and a dozen other places +of boyish adventure and misadventure. +Your true sentimentalist invariably gives +the preference to scenes over persons, and +is so often rewarded by the fidelity with +which they respond to his eager expectations. +It was not until I had exhausted +every incident of the place that I sought<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22" href="#Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> +out the companions of my school-days. +What strange irony of fate is that which +sends some of us out into the restless world +to grow away from our old ideals and make +others, and restrains some in the monotonous +rut of village life, to drone peacefully +their little span! But happy he, who, +knowing nothing, misses nothing. If there +were any village Hampdens, or mute, inglorious +Miltons among my playmates, they +gave no present indications. I found the +girls considerably older than I expected, +the boys less interesting than I hoped; +but they all welcomed me with that grave, +unemotional hospitality of the village, and +we talked, far into the shadows, of our +schooltime, the day that is never dead +while memory endures.</p> + +<p>And so it came about that at the close +of day I found myself standing at the +garden gate of the Eastmann cottage. +Peleg Eastmann had been our village postmaster, +a grave, shy man, who had received +the federal office because the thrifty +neighbors agreed, irrespective of political<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23" href="#Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> +feeling, that it was much less expensive to +give him the office than to support him +and his two daughters, the prettiest girls +in our school. For they further agreed +that Peleg was a "shif'less sort o' critter" +and never could make a living, though +he was a model postmaster and an excellent +citizen and neighbor. Hence, when +it came Peleg's turn to make the journey +to the burying-ground in the village hearse, +the whole community of Meadowvale was +scandalized by the discovery that he had +left his girls a comfortable little fortune, +enough to keep them in modest wealth. +Meadowvale never recovered from this +shock. It felt that it had been victimized, +and that its tenderest sensibility had +been violated, and when his disconsolate +daughters put up the granite shaft to their +father's memory, relating that he had +been faithful and just, the indignant political +leader of the village remarked that it +was "profanation of Scriptur'."</p> + +<p>Thirty years ago I had stood at this +little gate with one of the Eastmann<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24" href="#Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> +girls, escorting her home from Stella Perkins's +party. I had attempted to kiss her +good-night, and she had boxed my ears, +thus contributing a disagreeable finale to +an otherwise pleasant evening. Time is a +great healer and I cherished no resentment +at this late day toward the repudiator +of my caresses. In fact I smiled in recollection +of the incident as I walked up the +gravelled path and knocked at the door. +I wondered if the same vivacious, rosy-cheeked +girl would come to meet me, and +if I should feel in duty bound to make +honorable amends. The door was opened +by a tall, spare woman, who carried a +lamp. The light reflected directly on +her features, showed a face that in any +other part of the world would be called +hard; in New England it is merely resolute. +It was the face of a woman fifty +years of age, with massive chin, slightly +sunken cheeks, a prominent nose, heavy +eyebrows, and a high forehead rather +scantily streaked by gray hair. There +was no trace of the girlish bloom I had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25" href="#Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> +known, of the beauty that once had been +hers, but the imperious manner of the +woman was unmistakable.</p> + +<p>"Mary," I began jocularly, "I have +come to apologize."</p> + +<p>She thrust the lamp forward, peered +into my face, and said, with not the faintest +trace of a smile or the slightest evidence +of embarrassment:</p> + +<p>"Why, that's all right, Johnny Stanhope. +I accept your apology. Come +right in."</p> + +<p>I went in. We sat in the sitting-room +and talked of our school-days and our +fortunes. I told her how I had gone +down to the city, how I had prospered, +of my adventures in the world, of my +marriage—dealing very gently with my +relations with the late Mrs. Stanhope—of +my bereavement and present idyllic +existence. And she told me of herself, +how she had lived on and on in the little +cottage, caring only for the support and +education of her niece, Phyllis Kinglake, +an orphan for nearly twenty years. "You<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26" href="#Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> +remember Sylvia?" she said, with the first +touch of emotion.</p> + +<p>Did I remember Sylvia? My little +fair-haired playmate with the large eyes +and the blue veins showing through the +delicate beauty of her face? Little Sylvia, +who first won my boyish affection, and +with whom I made a solemn contract of +marriage when we were only seven years +old? Did I not remember how I would +pass her house on my way to school, and +stand at the gate and whistle until she +came shyly out, with her face as red as +her little hood and tippet, and give me +her books to carry, and protest with the +ever present coquetry of girlhood that +she thought I had gone long ago? Could +I ever forget how I saved my coppers, +one by one, until I had accumulated a +sum large enough to buy a whole cocoanut, +which I presented to her in the +proudest moment of my life, and how the +other girls tossed their heads with the affectation +of a sneer, and with pretended +indifference to this astonishing stroke of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27" href="#Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> +fortune? And that fatal evening when +I provoked my little beauty's wrath, +and in all the receding opportunities of +"Post-Office" and "Copenhagen" she +had turned her face and rosy lips away +from me, until the world was black with +a hopeless despair? And the singing-school +where she was our shining ornament, +and that blissful night when I +stood up with her in the village church, +while we sang our duet descriptive of the +special virtues of some particular flower +nominated in the cantata? And how, +growing older and shyer, we still preserved +our youthful fancy even to the +day I struck out into the world, both +believing in the endurance of the tie that +would draw me back? What caprice of +fate is it that dispels the illusions of youth +and restores them tenfold in the reflection +of after years and over the gulf of +the grave? Did I remember Sylvia?</p> + +<p>Then Mary went on to tell me of +Sylvia's happy marriage to George Kinglake, +how, when little Phyllis had come,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28" href="#Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> +and the world was at its brightest, the +parents had been stricken down in the +same week by a virulent disease, and +how, with her dying breath, the mother +had asked her sister to look after her +little one and protect her from sorrow +and harm. Very simply this stern-featured +woman told the story of her efforts to +do her duty to her sister's child, and it +seemed to me that her face grew softer +and her voice gentler as she went over +the years they had grown older together, +while the beauty of this woman's life +was glorified by the willing sacrifices of +imposed motherhood. I could not see +Phyllis, for she was spending the night +with friends in another part of the village. +Next time, she hoped, I might be more +successful.</p> + +<p>Walking slowly to the tavern my mind +still went back to my little playmate and +the golden days of youth, and if my +heart grew a little tenderer, and my eyes +were moistened by the recall, what need +to be ashamed of the emotion? And if<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29" href="#Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> +in the night I dreamed that I was a boy +again, and that a fair-haired child played +with me in the changing glow of dreamland +in the best and purest scenes of the +human comedy, was it a delusion to be +dispelled, a memory to be put aside? +Did I remember Sylvia?</p> +<hr /> +<p> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30" href="#Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span></p> + + +<p><span class="dropcap">T</span><span style="margin-left: -.7em;"><b>HE</b></span> thought that my train was to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31" href="#Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> +leave at ten o'clock did not +depress me as I awoke, with the +sunlight streaming through the window, +for, after all, I was obliged to admit that the +monotony of Meadowvale and the sluggishness +of my village friends were beginning +to have an appreciable effect. Then +the memory of little Sylvia came to me +again, and nothing seemed pleasanter, as +a benediction to the old days, than a +visit to the burying-ground where she +was sleeping. The previous day I had +paid the obligations of remembrance and +respect to the graves of my kindred, and +it gave me at first an uncomfortable feeling +to realize that the thought of them +was less potent than the recollection of +this young girl. But was it strange or +inexcusable? Had they not lived out +their lives of honored usefulness, and +grown old and weary of the battle? And +had not she passed away just as the +greater joys of living were unfolding,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32" href="#Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> +and the assurance of happiness was the +stronger? Poor Sylvia!</p> + +<p>The spectacle of a correctly dressed, +middle-aged man passing down the street, +bearing a somewhat cumbersome burden +of lilies-of-the-valley and forget-me-nots, +must have had its peculiar significance +to the inhabitants of the village, and +many curious glances were my reward. +I passed along, however, without explanations +in distinct violation of rural +etiquette. The old caretaker of the +burying-ground met me at the entrance +and gave me the directions—second +path to the right, half way up the hill, +just to the left of the big elm. The old +man had known me as a boy and would +have detained me in conversation, but +I pleaded that my time was short, and +reluctantly he let me go my way. Slowly +up the hill I walked, occasionally pausing +to place a forget-me-not on the grave +of one I had known in childhood. Even +old Barrows did not escape my passing +tribute—a cynical, cross-grained old<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33" href="#Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> +fellow, the aversion of the boys, who +tormented him and whom he tormented +with reciprocal vigor. No need of a +forget-me-not for Barrows, for he never +forgot anything, so I gave his somewhat +neglected grave the token of a long stem +of little lilies, in evidence that the past +was forgiven, and moved on to avoid +possible protestation.</p> + +<p>I paused under the wide-branching elm +to recover my breath. The assent had +been arduous for a gentleman inclined +to portliness and with wind impaired by +tobacco. I turned to the left, and at +that moment, just before me, a woman's +figure slowly rose from the ground. A +creeping sensation possessed me. My +heart bounded and my pulses thrilled. +Was this Sylvia risen from the dead? +Surely it was Sylvia's graceful girlish +form! This was Sylvia's oval face, with +Sylvia's large gray eyes. In such a way +Sylvia's pretty light hair waved about +her temples, and the pink and white +of her delicate complexion revealed the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34" href="#Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> +blue veins. Twenty-five years had rolled +back in an instant, and I was standing in +the presence of the past. Alas, the swift +passing of the illusion, for the conversation +of the evening came to me.</p> + +<p>"You are Phyllis?" I said.</p> + +<p>"I am Phyllis," she answered softly—her +mother's voice—"and you are +Mr. Stanhope. My aunt told me."</p> + +<p>I did not answer, for I was staring +stupidly at her, reluctant to abandon +the pleasing fancy that my thinking +of her had brought her back from the +dead again. She did not speak, but +glanced inquiringly at the flowers I held +in my hand.</p> + +<p>"I knew your mother, Phyllis," I +managed to say. "She was a very dear +playmate of my childhood. I have +brought these flowers to put upon her +grave. Shall we go together?"</p> + +<p>The girl's eyes filled, and she pointed +to the rising mound at her feet. Silently +we bent over and reverently laid the +lilies and forget-me-nots under the simple<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35" href="#Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> +headstone.</p> + +<p>"May I talk to you of your mother?" +I asked.</p> + +<p>We sat down on a rude bench in the +path, and I told her of my childhood, of +the days when Sylvia and I were sweethearts, +of our little quarrels and frolics, +of her mother's beauty and gentleness. +The girl laughed at the recital of our +misadventures, and the tears came into +her eyes when I touched on my boyish +affection for my playmate. Then she +told me of her own life, so peaceful and +happy in the little village, and in the +neighboring town, where she had been +educated with all the care and diligence +of the New England impulse. I looked +at my watch.</p> + +<p>"It is quarter past eleven," I said ruefully, +"and my train left at ten."</p> + +<p>"There's another train at three," she +replied. "You will go home and dine +with us? We dine at twelve in the country, +you know."</p> + +<p>If I was somewhat ashamed to face<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36" href="#Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> +Mary Eastmann, she received us with the +same stolidity she had manifested when +we first met, and at once insisted that I +should remain for dinner. "Go into the +parlor," she said abruptly.</p> + +<p>Phyllis plucked the sleeve of my coat. +"Don't go in there," she whispered; +"that's Aunt Mary's room exclusively, +and I'm afraid you'll not find it very +cheerful. Come out on the porch."</p> + +<p>"I know the room," I whispered back, +as we went out together. "At least I +know the type. Lots of horse-hair belongings. +Square piano against the wall. +Wax flowers under a glass case on the +mantel. Steel engravings of Washington +crossing the Delaware. Family album, +huge Bible, and 'Famous Women of Two +Centuries' on the centre table. Seashells, +blue wedgwood and German china things +mingled in delightful confusion on the +what-not. If not wax flowers, it's wax +fruit."</p> + +<p>Phyllis laughed—how much her laugh +was like her mother's—and nodded her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37" href="#Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> +head. "Not a bad description," she assented; +"you must have the gift of second +sight."</p> + +<p>"Not second sight. Suppose we call it +the gift of second childhood."</p> + +<p>We sat on the porch and looked down +on the lawn that sloped to the orchard, +and watched the robins run across +the grass. And I pointed out to +Phyllis the very tree under which Sylvia +and I had stood the day we had our first +memorable quarrel, confessing that while +at the time there was no doubt in my +mind that Sylvia was clearly at fault, I was +now prepared to concede, after plenty of +reflection, that possibly she might have +had a reasonable defence. The recital of +this pathetic incident led to other reminiscences +connected with the old house and +its grounds, and I was hardly in the +second chapter when Mary came out and +ordered us in to dinner. Mary never invited, +never requested; she merely ordered. +We sat at the table, and at a severe look +from Mary I stopped fumbling with my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38" href="#Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> +napkin, while Phyllis—sweet saint!—folded +her hands and asked the divine +blessing. Pagan philosopher that +I was, I was singularly moved by the +simple faith of these two women, and I +think that when I am led back into the +fold of my family creed, a girl as young +and fair and holy as Phyllis will be the +angel to guide me.</p> + +<p>The dinner was toothsome, the environment +fascinating, the afternoon perfect, +and so it came about quite naturally that +I missed the three-o'clock train. "There is +nothing so disagreeable in life," I explained +apologetically to my friends, "as a hard +and fast schedule, which keeps one jumping +like an electric clock, doing sixty +things every hour and never varying the +performance. Fortunately trains run every +day except Sunday, and the general order +of the universe is not going to be upset +because I am not checking myself off like +a section-hand."</p> + +<p>Perhaps Mary did not wholly coincide +with my argument, but she was called<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39" href="#Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> +away to her sewing-circle, while Phyllis +and I lounged lazily on the porch, I continuing +my reminiscences. Garrulity is +not merely the prerogative of age; the +privilege of the monologue is always that +of the old boy who comes back to his +childhood's home and finds in a pretty +girl a charming and attentive listener. He +is a poor orator, indeed, who cannot improve +such opportunities. At a convenient +lull in the flow of discourse we went +off to ride, exploring the country roads +I knew so well, and here began new +matter and new reminiscences, patiently +endured by Phyllis, who was a most delightful +girl. And when we returned +late in the afternoon it was directly in the +line of circumstances that I should remain +for tea; and after tea Phyllis played and +sang for me in the little parlor, for Phyllis +was a musician of no small merit. When +in reply to my inquiry she sang a simple +Scotch ballad her mother had sung so +touchingly many years before, a great +lump rose in my throat, and I sat far over<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40" href="#Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> +in the shadow that she and Mary might +not see how blurred were my eyes, and +how unmanageable my emotion. At what +age does it come to a man and a philosopher +that he is no longer ashamed of +honest, sympathetic tears?</p> + +<p>I shall never know whether it was the +journey in the train, the air and cooking +of Meadowvale, or the visits to the burying-ground, +that upset me, but for the +first time in a dozen years I found myself +dissatisfied with my home. I remarked +to Malachy that the roses seemed to be +in a most discouraging condition, and +that the garden in general was altogether +disappointing. I noticed that my dogs +barked a great deal, that the neighbors +had become most tiresome, and that +Bunsey was an unmitigated nuisance. +Even the cuisine, which had been my +pride and boast, grew at times unbearable, +and I had not been home a fortnight +before I astonished Prudence by +positively assuring her that the dinner +she had set before me was not worth any<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41" href="#Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> +sane man's serious attention. Whereupon +that excellent woman announced +with superb pride that she "guessed it +was about time for that Rogers woman +to give another card-party."</p> + +<p>"Prudence," I said severely, for I +encourage no flippancy on the part of +domestics, "that remark, while probably +hasty and ill-considered, borders on impertinence. +I shall overlook it this time +on account of your faithful services in +the past. But don't let it happen again. +In any event," I amended considerately, +"don't let it drop in my presence."</p> + +<p>Thinking it over I came to the conclusion +that Prudence was right in the +general effect of the suggestion. What I +needed was a change of scene. Long +abstention from travel and variety of +incident had made me restless and discontented. +I had not been in Europe for +two years. Undoubtedly I was pining +for a lazy tour of the Continent. The +thought decided me. I should book my +passage on the steamer that sailed the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42" href="#Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> +Saturday of the following week.</p> + +<p>Strangely enough, at this interesting +moment, I received a letter from the +chairman of the committee on public improvements +in the village of Meadowvale, +announcing that it had been resolved to +procure new rooms for the village library, +and would Mr. John Stanhope do his +native village the honor of subscribing a +small amount toward this desirable end. +As it is always much easier for an indolent +man to telegraph than to write letters, +I replied by wire that Mr. Stanhope +felt himself much honored by the request. +Not entirely satisfied with this confession, +I sent a second telegram an hour +later doubling my subscription. Still +my conscience troubled me.</p> + +<p>"I have not done my duty," I said to +myself. "Here I am, a man of means, +I may say of large wealth, with no special +obligations resting upon me, and yet I +have done nothing to benefit or enrich +my old home. It is strange that it has +not occurred to me before what a privilege,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43" href="#Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> +what an honor, it is to be a philanthropist +even in a small way, and with +what alacrity those whom Heaven has +blessed with a fortune should respond to +the calls of deserving need. I blush for +my past thoughtlessness, and I shall +hasten to atone for my astonishing neglect. +My duty lies before me, and I +shall not shrink from it, whatever the +personal inconvenience."</p> + +<p>Thereupon I telegraphed for the third +time to the chairman that it would give +Mr. Stanhope the greatest pleasure to +put up a suitable library for the village +of Meadowvale, and, in order to guard +against any possible misunderstanding, +he would depart the following day to +confer with the committee as to site and +probable extent of the structure. This +concession to my conscience comforted +me greatly, and I prepared for my journey +with a lightness that was almost +buoyancy. The chairman and two of +the committee met me at the junction. +They were most deprecatory and apologetic,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44" href="#Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> +and mentioned with evident sorrow +the absence of several of the members +which might cause a postponement of +the conference until the following day. +I bore up under this intelligence with +astonishing cheerfulness.</p> + +<p>"My good friends," I said, "don't let +this disturb you for a minute. I am not +so pressed for time that I cannot wait +on your reasonable convenience. Your +tavern is well kept and the food is wholesome. +I think I may say that my old +friends in Meadowvale will interest me +until we can come to an amicable understanding. +Suppose, to be sure of a full +meeting, that we fix the time of conference +at day after to-morrow—a little late +in the afternoon."</p> + +<p>After this suggestion had been received +with suitable expressions of gratitude, we +journeyed together to the village, where +I was duly turned over to old Pettigrew. +And then, as the day was by no means +done, I strolled down the street and, +most naturally and quite unthinkingly,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45" href="#Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> +found myself a few minutes later looking +over the Eastmann gate at Phyllis on the +porch. To say that this charming girl +was surprised by my sudden appearance +was no less true than to admit that she +did not seem in the least displeased. +I positively had no intention of going +in, but before I knew it I was sitting +beside her, relating in the most casual +way the reason of my coming.</p> + +<p>"How good it was of you," said the +ingenuous creature, "and how delighted +and grateful Meadowvale will be. It +must be glorious to be rich enough to +do things for other people."</p> + +<p>Now it is not a disagreeable sensation +to feel that one is rich and good and +glorious in the large gray eyes of a very +pretty woman, and I was conscious of +the mild intoxication from the compliment. +"It is, indeed," I answered magnanimously. +"I have always maintained +that money is given to us in trust for +those around us, and that in making +others happy we find our greatest happiness.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46" href="#Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> +I regret that I have not wholly +lived up to this undeniably correct +principle."</p> + +<p>"It will require at least a thousand +dollars," she said naïvely.</p> + +<p>"Oh, at least."</p> + +<p>She was silent a moment. Then she +said: "I was wondering what I would +do if I had a thousand dollars to give +away."</p> + +<p>"What do you think you would do?"</p> + +<p>"Speaking for my own preferences I +think I should like to establish a country +club."</p> + +<p>"The very thing. If there is one crying +want more than another in Meadowvale +it is a country club, with golf links, +tennis courts, and shower baths."</p> + +<p>"Now you are laughing at me."</p> + +<p>"Not at all. Fancy old Hank and +you playing a foursome with Aunt Mary +and me for the cider and apples. Why, +it would add years of robustness to our +waning lives."</p> + +<p>"No," said the girl decisively. "It<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47" href="#Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> +isn't feasible."</p> + +<p>"Then," I went on musingly, "we +might have an Art Institute, or the +Phyllis Kinglake School of Expression, +or the Meadowvale Woman's Club, or +the Colonial Dames, or, best of all, the +Daughters of the American Revolution."</p> + +<p>"That shows how little you appreciate +the local situation," she responded quickly, +"for your best of all is worse and worse. +Imagine an order of Daughters in a place +where every woman's ancestors did nothing +but fight in the Revolution. As +well call a town meeting at once. Ah,"—with +a sigh—"I see that I shall +never spend the thousand dollars in +Meadowvale."</p> + +<p>"Don't be too sure of that, my dear +Phyllis," I exclaimed in an outburst, for +I was in a particularly happy and generous +mood; "and remember that when +you do decide how the money is to be +philanthropically invested we shall see +that it is forthcoming."</p> + +<p>With such agreeable banter the minutes<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48" href="#Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> +slipped away, and when Mary appeared +with the customary invitation to tea, it +would have been a jolt to the harmonious +order of things to decline. I cannot say +that I have ever cordially approved the +austerity of the New England tea-table, +with its cold bread and biscuits, its applesauce, +its frugal allowance of sardines, +its basket of cake, and its not very stimulating +pot of tea. But such are the compensations +of pleasant society that even +these chilly viands may be forgotten, and +I said my "Amen" to Phyllis's sweet and +modest grace with all the heartiness of a +thankful man. As no gentleman may, with +propriety, run away immediately after he +has accepted hospitality, I lingered in the +evening, and we had more music, which +so calmed and rested me that I wondered +at my past nervousness and marvelled that +I had even contemplated a journey across +the water.</p> + +<p>How it came about that the next morning +Phyllis and I were strolling over the +village, down by the river and into the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49" href="#Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> +pleasant woods, I have forgotten, but +I dare say that we were discussing +further developments of philanthropy, +and endeavoring to come to a conclusion +as to the proper disposition +of that troublesome thousand dollars. +The girl was so young and joyous, so +pretty, so arch, so fascinating with that +little coquettishness that is not the usual +type of the Puritan maiden, I could not +find it in my heart to remember Mary's +words and "try to instil in her a closer +appreciation of the more serious purposes +of life." Indeed life is so serious +that it is one of the blessed decrees of +Mother Nature that we have that brief +allotment of time when it is too serious +to think about, and youth passes so +quickly that it is criminal to rob it of its +golden hour. In such a presence I felt +my own spirits rising, my step becoming +springy, my whole nature less sluggish, +and, had I looked in the mirror, I should +have confidently expected to see a youthful +bloom in my cheeks and a return of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50" href="#Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> +hair to primary conditions.</p> + +<p>It is due to this interesting young +woman to say that she coyly urged me +not to forget my other friends, since I +was to leave so soon, and it pleased me +to fancy that she was not altogether offended +when I spoke somewhat hastily +and rather flippantly of those of my former +companions who had lapsed into +tediousness. I reminded her also that +as the happiest memory of my childhood +was associated with her mother, so it was +sweet to me to be with her and live again, +in a pleasant dream, the brightness of the +past. Then, for her mother's sake, she +shyly let me take her hand while I went +over again, not without emotion, the +story of my early love. Dear little Sylvia!</p> + +<p>The meeting of the committee was followed +by a general congregation of citizens, +and I was invited to the platform, +where I outlined my plans. I hinted +that the library was merely the beginning +of a number of beneficences which I desired +to contribute to Meadowvale's prosperity,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51" href="#Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> +and as I looked down upon my +listeners and caught sight of Phyllis, +glancing up with flushed cheeks and sparkling +eyes, I was nearly betrayed into promises +of the most preposterous nature. At +the end of my remarks—I recall that I +spoke with unusual grace and eloquence—the +chairman stood up and gravely +thanked me, intimating that I was a credit +to Meadowvale and its perfect public +school system. I fancy I should have +been applauded if it had been compatible +with the nature of the people of +Meadowvale to make so riotous a demonstration. +At the close of the meeting it +happened, by the purest accident, that I +walked home with Mary and Phyllis, +and when Mary said in her blunt way +that I really had been most generous, +Phyllis did not speak, but she +slipped her hand under my arm and gave +me an appreciative little squeeze, which +made me regret that I had not pledged +another thousand.</p> + +<p>I was to leave the next morning, thanks<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52" href="#Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> +to the officious members of the committee, +who had so blunderingly hurried +matters to accommodate me that I had no +longer an excuse of remaining. And it +was for this reason that I went in and sat +again in the little parlor, while Phyllis sang +for me the songs that were my favorites, +and some her mother sang in the long +ago. Memories were again pleasantly +stirred within me, as was not infrequent +in those days, and I experienced all the +happiness that comes to him who is persuaded +that he has made himself a little +above the ordinary attractions of the +earth. In this excess of good feeling, +and stimulated alike by the music and +the consciousness of a philanthropic impulse, +I waited until the moment of parting +before declaring definitely my excellent +intentions.</p> + +<p>"My dear Mary," I began, turning to +that admirable spinster, "you know how +our childhood was linked by a close family +feeling, and how you and Sylvia and I +planned in our simple ambitions to live<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53" href="#Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> +together in the great world outside. We +may say now that this was childish romance, +and that the caprice of time has +made it an idle fancy. For many years +we have been separated, and only by a +happy chance have we been brought together. +Fortune has been kind to me. +I am called a rich man, and I believe I +may say without boasting that I am far +beyond the need of anxiety. But to a +degree I am a lonely man. My sister's +child is my one near relative in the world, +and he is a young man with an excellent +business, able to take care of himself, +and naturally engrossed with his own +occupations. You can understand that +at my time of life, alone as I am, and +still young enough to appreciate the joys +of living, I have a feeling of desolation +for which no riches can compensate. +Had fortune given me a daughter, like +our Phyllis here, I think no happiness +could have been so great. It has pleased +me to look back upon the past, to recall +the days of our childhood, and to see in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54" href="#Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> +Phyllis the image of her mother. Why +can I not link the present and the future +with the past? Why can I not look on +Phyllis as my own daughter, and give to +her all the father love I have learned to +feel? I do not rob you either of her love +or her presence. I merely add a new +joy to my life, and know that in caring +for you both and in contributing to her +happiness, and securing her against misfortune +after we are taken away, I am +carrying out the pledge, however idle at +the time, I made to Sylvia."</p> + +<p>I fancied I saw what may have been +the suspicion of a tear in Mary Eastmann's +eye. It vanished as quickly as it +came, and when she spoke and thanked +me for my generous offer, her voice was +as calm and her manner as collected as +if I had made a casual suggestion for +attendance at a prayer meeting. She could +not deny that the opportunity was too +enticing to be ignored, and she admitted +that my fatherly proposition was distinctly +advantageous. Her New England<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55" href="#Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> +independence rather revolted at the +thought of any immediate financial assistance, +which was not needed, while her +New England thrift approved a future +settlement based on family friendliness +of many years' standing. On the whole +she was inclined to be favorable to my +point of view.</p> + +<p>As for Phyllis, she had listened to me +with undisguised amazement. Her big +gray eyes had grown larger, and the +color left her cheeks as I finished. Then +the rosy red rushed back, her lip quivered +and the tears sprang to her eyes. A +moment later she smiled, then laughed, +and was serious again. How incomprehensible +are these young girls! Poor +child! she had never known a father's +love.</p> + +<p>Phyllis followed me to the door. The +light, streaming from the parlor, shone +squarely on her exquisite face. A thrill +of pleasure went through me as I realized +that at last I had a daughter whom I +could love and cherish. I took her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56" href="#Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> +hand in both of mine, and, as I released +it, I parted the light, wavy hair, and +kissed her forehead. It seemed to me +that she trembled slightly, but in a +moment she was herself, and a gleam +of merriment was in her eyes, as she +said:</p> + +<p>"Of course you will write to me—papa?"</p> + +<p>Doubtless the novelty of the situation +made me just a little embarrassed. To +be called "papa" the first time by a +pretty girl was more embarrassing than +I had expected. And why that half-laugh +in her eye, and why that almost +quizzical tone? Was I not kind and +good enough to be her father, and had I +not tried to show her every paternal consideration? +Was I not honestly endeavoring +to fulfil a sacred pledge? I +was perplexed but not discouraged. "I +will prove to her," I said to myself with +firmness, "that I am entirely worthy of +her filial affection, and that she may lean +confidently upon me." And I went<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57" href="#Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> +straightway to bed, and dreamed of her +all night as every true father should +dream of the daughter of his heart and +his hope.</p> +<hr /> +<p> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58" href="#Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="dropcapn">I</span><span style="margin-left: -.7em;"><b>N</b></span> the very nature of things it was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59" href="#Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> +necessary that I should return frequently +to Meadowvale, to confer +with the village committee and make all +proper arrangements for beginning so +important a local enterprise. While this +put an end to my projected trip to +Europe I accepted the situation with +calmness and forbearance, satisfied that +in the pursuit of duty and in giving +happiness to my fellow creatures I should +have the reward of an approving conscience. +To my nephew, Frederick Grinnell, +I gave the task of preparing the +plans, and his excellent suggestions were +cordially adopted. Much of my spare +time—and it is amazing how much spare +time one has in a village—was spent +at the Eastmann cottage with my new +daughter, and in the evening I talked +to her of the world outside, quite, I +fancy, as Othello may have spoken to +Desdemona, but with a more conservative +and a better impulse. I unfolded<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60" href="#Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> +to her the wonders of great London, the +pleasures of Paris, the beauties of Venice, +the sacred mysteries of Rome, the noble +traditions of Athens. I journeyed with +her up the Nile and down the Rhine. +One night we were in gay Vienna, +another in Berlin, a third in the grandeur +of the Alhambra. From the fjords of +Norway to the tea houses of Japan was +the journey of a few minutes, and the +indifference of my surfeited life gave +way before the kindling enthusiasm of +this lovely country girl, whose world had +been the area of scarcely more than a +township.</p> + +<p>But the paternal relation, however +honest and commendable my intentions, +did not seem to thrive as I had fondly +hoped. Only in her teasing moments +would this vivacious creature admit the +solemnity of our compact, and when she +called me "papa" there was always that +gleam of the eye, with that merriment +of tone, which may not have been disrespectful +but was certainly not filial.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61" href="#Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> +This troubled me exceedingly. I thought +it all over and one night I said to her:</p> + +<p>"My dear Phyllis, it has become only +too evident that you do not entertain +that deferential feeling for me which a +daughter should have for a father. I +shall not describe your emotions as I +have analyzed them, but I am satisfied +that we shall not make a complete success +of my long cherished plan. However, I +am not prepared to withdraw unreservedly +from my schemes for your comfort and +happiness, and since you cannot look upon +me as a father, or treat me like a father, +I have another suggestion to offer. Let +me be your elder brother, and watch over +and guard you as a brother's duty should +direct. There shall be no diminution of +my love, no retraction of my promises. +Perhaps, in the feeling that I am your +brother, you will talk with me with greater +frankness, and feel more closely drawn to +me, and we shall be all the better and the +happier for the change."</p> + +<p>Thus speaking I took her pretty hand<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62" href="#Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> +and carried it respectfully to my lips, +at the same time patting it affectionately +and assuring her of my brotherly devotion. +And this incomprehensible girl threw back +her head and laughed; then burst into +tears, laughed again, flushed to crimson +and ran out of the room. I was grieved +beyond measure. Had I done wrong so +quickly and rudely to sever a connection +so holy? Had the filial feeling been suddenly +awakened in her breast? Was I +depriving this poor child of a tender +paternal care, for which she longed, but +which maidenly coyness could not immediately +accept?</p> + +<p>As a philosopher I have made woman +the subject of much research, and my +library bears witness to the attention I +have paid to the written opinions of the +ablest writers and thinkers of all times, +who have had anything to do with this +fascinating theme. I have seen her in all +her phases, analyzed her in all her emotions, +and Bunsey has admitted to me +that my theoretical knowledge has been<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63" href="#Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> +of great value to him in dealing subtly +with his heroines. And yet, despite my +complete equipment in mental construction, +I am constantly surprised by a +new development, a sudden and unaccountable +phenomenon of feminine nature, +which undoubtedly escaped the +experience and reasoning of the experts +and sages. It is indeed a matter of pride +in woman that while man has studied her +for thousands of years, she continues to +exhibit fresh delights in her infinite variety +of moods and to put forth unexpectedly +new and astounding shoots.</p> + +<p>I saw Phyllis no more that evening, +save in my dreams, and it was wholly +creditable to the goodness of my motives +and the sincerity of my affection that she +abided with me in my slumbering fancies +with no protracted intermissions. The +next day she was as sweet and gracious as +ever, but I thought her tone a little constrained, +and when, as a father or brother +should, I ventured to speak of the tenderness +of our family relation, a half-imploring +look came into her beautiful eyes. And<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64" href="#Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> +when I casually remarked on the softness +of her hair, or the slenderness of her fingers, +her glance was timidly reproachful. +All this gave me great unhappiness, and I +discovered, to my further distress, that in +my attempt to return to the old familiar +footing I was neglecting the committee and +losing interest in the affairs of the library. +A certain peevishness took possession of +me; I was no longer myself, and I lost +the gayety and sprightliness which had +been always my distinguishing virtues.</p> + +<p>Furthermore I missed the companionship +and solace of my books in this emergency, +for I had no reference library to +which I could go in Meadowvale for aid +in establishing the true condition of this +strange girl. I recalled dimly that somewhere +on my shelves was a volume which +contained a fairly analogous case, but while +I knew that I possessed such a book I +could not remember the circumstances or +the incidents cited, and this added to my +unrest. Only a student can understand<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65" href="#Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> +the absolute wretchedness which overtakes +a man when he finds himself miserably +dependent on a distant library. For several +days I gave myself up entirely to my +mental depression, greatly wondering at +the perplexing change in my life, and +marvelling that in all my explorations in +philosophy I had not provided for just +such a crisis, whatever it might be. One +afternoon as I sat in my room at the +tavern, looking idly out of the window +and across the little river which rippled +by, something seemed to strike me violently +in the forehead. It may have been +a telepathic suggestion, it may have been a +return to consciousness; at all events it was +an idea. I leaped from my chair, put on +my hat, and proceeded rather feverishly to +the Eastmann cottage. Phyllis was away +for the day; Mary was knitting in the +sitting-room. I watched her in silence for +a moment, and then I said abruptly:</p> + +<p>"Mary, I think I should like to marry +Phyllis."</p> + +<p>Mary Eastmann was not the type of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66" href="#Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> +woman to lose herself or betray astonishment. +She pushed her spectacles sharply +above her eyes, looked at me sternly, and +said in a rasping voice.</p> + +<p>"John Stanhope, don't be an old fool."</p> + +<p>"Whatever I may be, Mary," I answered, +much nettled by her tone, "I do +not think anybody can properly regard me +as a fool. As for the other qualification," I +went on complacently, "I am not so old."</p> + +<p>"You and Sylvia were the same age, +and she would have been forty-eight."</p> + +<p>"A man is as old as he feels," I ventured, +finding refuge in a proverb.</p> + +<p>"That is evasive, and has nothing to do +with the question. Beside, what reason +have you to believe that Phyllis has the +slightest desire to marry you?"</p> + +<p>"Frankly, not the slightest reason in +the world," I replied with the utmost +candor. "That is why I have been so +bold as to speak to you on the subject."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you thought I might use my +influence to help you along?"</p> + +<p>"Quite the contrary, my dear Mary, I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67" href="#Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> +assure you. I may not know very much +about women"—I was quite humble when +separated from my library—"but I do +know that nothing is so fatal to a lover's +prospects as the encouragement of the +loved one's relations. You see that I am +perfectly frank."</p> + +<p>"Then you wish my opposition?"</p> + +<p>"Come, let us be reasonable. I have +told you I wish to marry Phyllis. I know +my good points, and I am not unacquainted +with my weak ones. Unhappily I can +figure out my age to a day. Alas, I am +forty-eight, and Phyllis is not yet twenty-three. +The difference is positively ghastly +from a sentimental standpoint, but if I +love her, and she is not hopelessly indifferent +to me, I think that even that difficulty +can be bridged. You know my +position, my character, my general reputation. +Neither of us knows what Phyllis +really thinks or what she will say or do in +the matter. I do not ask either for your +opposition or your good offices. I have +come to you as an old friend and the girl's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68" href="#Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> +nearest relative to tell you exactly how I +feel and what I wish to gain. And I ask +only that I may have the same chance to +win her affection that you might grant to a +younger man."</p> + +<p>Mary's voice was gentler when she +spoke again. "John," she said, "Phyllis +is all I have in the world. It is my +one idea to have her happily married to +a worthy man whom she honestly loves. +Providence, in inscrutable wisdom, may +have decreed that you are that man, but," +she continued with a sudden return of +Yankee caution, "I have my doubts, considering +your age. However, you have +acted honorably in coming to me, and +while I think Phyllis would be a better +daughter than wife to you, I cannot speak +for her. Remember that she is very young +and very inexperienced. Her acquaintance +with men has been slight. You are +a man of the world and with enough of +the surface polish—I don't say it stops +with that—to dazzle any girl accustomed +to such surroundings as we have here.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69" href="#Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> +Undoubtedly an offer from you would flatter +her; it might induce her to accept you, +thinking that she loved you. Be careful. +Be sure of your ground before it is too +late."</p> + +<p>As I walked back to the village I +mused on what Mary had said, but I felt +no apprehension. Most lovers are alike +in this—in youth, in middle age, in senility. +Perhaps the advantage of middle +life is that a man is more the master of +himself, more in possession of the faculties +necessary to carry him through a crisis. +Without the impetuous desire of youth, or +the deadened sensibilities of old age, he +has a certain serene confidence that is a +mixture of love and philosophy. It disturbed +me somewhat to find with what +equanimity I faced a situation which promised +nothing. It really annoyed me to +note that I was picking out mentally the +place to which I should conduct Phyllis +in order to have the harmonious environment +adapted to a sentimental proposition. +I remembered that down by the river,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70" href="#Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> +just beyond the willows, there was an old +tree where Sylvia and I—ah, so many +years ago!—had sat and talked of our +lives before us. To that sacred spot I +would lead Sylvia's daughter, and, passing +gently from the past to the present, I +would tell her of my love and of my fondest +hopes. How dignified and appropriate +such a spot for a frank, calm, and self-contained +avowal!</p> + +<p>Thus philosophically and amiably plotting +I walked contentedly along, and, looking +up, I saw Phyllis coming toward me, +swinging her hat in her hand, and suggesting +in her girlish beauty and graceful outline +the poet's shepherdess. She did not +see me, and, yielding to a sudden impulse, +I stepped quickly aside in the shadow of +a neighbor's house, as she passed on with +her eyes on the ground. I followed at a little +distance, and discovered, much to my dismay, +that she chose the road that led to the +burying-ground. Now a cemetery is not +at all the spot that a man, whatever his +philosophy, would select for a tender<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71" href="#Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> +declaration, but I was buoyed by the remembrance +of Mary's words. "The finger +of Providence may be in it," I muttered. +"The Lord's will be done."</p> + +<p>Slowly up the winding path she walked, +and I as slowly followed. When I reached +her, she was standing at her mother's +grave, just as she had stood the morning +we first met. I tried to accept this as an +omen, but failed miserably, and omens, +after all, depend on the point of view. +She raised her eyes, and, seeing me, +blushed, another omen which means comparatively +little to a man who is aware of +the thousand emotions that are responsible +for the blush of woman. I was again annoyed +by the discovery that my pulses +were not beating wildly, and that my heart +was not throbbing tumultuously, and when +I addressed a commonplace remark to her +I was thoroughly ashamed and humiliated. +It seemed like taking a mean advantage of +innocence and inexperience.</p> + +<p>We sat together on the little bench, +and for the first time in our acquaintance<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72" href="#Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> +she appeared embarrassed, as if she knew +what was passing in my mind. I have +always believed that women, in addition +to their acknowledged intuition, have a +special sense that enables them to anticipate +a declaration of passion, and I had +no doubt that Phyllis was fully prepared +for my confession in spite of her embarrassment. +This induced me to proceed to the +point without unnecessary preliminaries.</p> + +<p>"Phyllis," I said, not without a certain +agreeable ardor, "I have been talking with +Aunt Mary."</p> + +<p>"Indeed?"</p> + +<p>"And about you."</p> + +<p>"Really?"</p> + +<p>"When I say that I have been talking +with Aunt Mary, and about you," I continued +in a grieved tone, for I do not +like jerky responses, "I wish you to +understand that it was in connection with +no ordinary topic. Phyllis,"—I spoke +with the utmost tenderness—"can you +not guess the nature of our discussion?"</p> + +<p>Phyllis was equal to the emergency;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73" href="#Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> +her embarrassment had disappeared. "I +am glad," she said, "that your conversation +so far as it related to me was out of the +ordinary. I suppose I may ask what the +topic was—that is, if you don't mind +telling."</p> + +<p>This was approaching the serious. +"Phyllis, I was telling Aunt Mary that +I loved you and wished to make you my +wife."</p> + +<p>A flash, half merry, half angry, came to +her eye. "That was thoughtful of you. +Is it customary for gentlemen in the city, +when they think they love a girl, to honor +all her relations with their confidence before +they speak to the girl herself?"</p> + +<p>I took her hand. She made the slightest +motion to withdraw it, and permitted +it to remain in my grasp. "Phyllis," I +said with all earnestness, "do not misunderstand +me. I sought you at the +house. You were absent. Your Aunt +Mary and I have been friends from childhood, +and it was only natural that out of +my heart I spoke the words that were in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74" href="#Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> +my mind. I told her that I loved you, +just as at that moment I might have +shouted it from the housetop. My heart +was full of you and I had to speak. +Can't you understand?"</p> + +<p>The girl was still obdurate, and she +spoke with some petulance. "If that is +the case, perhaps it is just as well that it +was Aunt Mary and not one of the neighbors."</p> + +<p>"Dear little Phyllis, you are not angry +with me because I love you? You cannot +remain angry with me because I confessed +my love before I met you to-day? If you +had only seen with what applications of +cold water your aunt rewarded my confidence, +you would pity and not reproach +me."</p> + +<p>For a minute the girl was silent. Then +she asked softly: "How long have you +known that you loved me?"</p> + +<p>"Must I answer that question candidly +and unreservedly?"</p> + +<p>"Unreservedly and candidly."</p> + +<p>I seized her other hand and held her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75" href="#Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> +firmly. "About fifty minutes."</p> + +<p>She laughed, rather joyously I thought. +"And having loved me for fully fifty minutes, +you wish to make me your wife? +Confiding man!"</p> + +<p>"Little girl," I said tenderly, "let us +be serious. If my dull consciousness did +not awaken till an hour ago, my heart tells +me that I have loved you ever since I first +saw you standing near this spot. I am +not going to ask you now whether you +love me, or ever can learn to love me. It +is happiness enough for me to-day to know +how much I love you, and to know that I +have told you of that love. I do not care +to have my dream too rudely and too suddenly +dispelled. Very probably you do +not care for me as I should like to have +you care for me, but do not make a jest of +my affection. I am wholly aware of the +preposterousness of my demands in many +respects"—this sounded very conventional +and commonplace, but every lover +must say it—"and, believe me, I shudder +when I think of what I have dared confess."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76" href="#Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span></p> + +<p>Then she said with the most delightful +demureness: "Mr. Stanhope, is it likely +that a girl would sit in a burying-ground +on a bench with a gentleman, allowing him +to hold both her hands, unless she cared +for him a little—just a little?"</p> + +<p>Up to this moment I had fairly forgotten +that I was depriving her of all power +of resistance, but with such encouragement +I took an even more sympathetic grasp +and sat a trifle closer, while the minutes +ticked away. A robin flew down from the +tree near by and saucily hopped toward +us, until at a rebuking call from his mate +he flew away, and I fancied that I could +hear them talking over the situation, and +drawing conclusions from their own happiness. +Phyllis was the first to break the +charming spell.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Stanhope," she asked, hardly +above a whisper, "what did Aunt Mary +say when you told her that you wished to +make me your wife?"</p> + +<p>"She said, Phyllis, that Providence may<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77" href="#Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> +have decreed that I am the man to bring +you happiness."</p> + +<p>And still in that same enchanting whisper, +with her face a little rosier, as she half +hid it below my shoulder: "Mr. Stanhope, +do you think that a girl with my +Christian training could fly in the face of +Providence?"</p> +<hr /> +<p> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78" href="#Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span></p> + + +<p><span class="dropcap">T</span><span style="margin-left: -.7em;"><b>HE</b></span> philosopher was in love. It<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79" href="#Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> +comes, I have no doubt, to every +well-ordered man to be in love +once. Some there are who maintain, with +plausibility, that the passion we call love +may be of frequent recurrence, and they +point to the passing fancies of boys and +girls, the romances of moonlight, the repeated +sighings of the fickle Corydon, +and the matrimonial entanglements of the +aging Lydia, as evidence for their argument. +That there are varying degrees of +the ecstatic emotion cannot be truthfully +denied. Heaven has wisely decreed that +the heart, once filled with its ideal, may be +compensated for the bitter hour of sorrow +by the soothing balm of a new affection, +and it is even possible that the second love +may be more satisfying than the first, the +third or fourth more typical of exaltation +than its predecessors. But love, whether +early or late, in the perfect absorption of +the faculties comes only once; as compared +with this remarkable mental state all other<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80" href="#Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> +conditions are unemotional, unfilling.</p> + +<p>The true lover rises early, before the +world is astir. If it is summer and in +the country, his thoughts lead him to the +cool groves, the shady banks of the river, +the retired spots where he may uninterruptedly +commune with his happiness or +his misery, and reflect on the blessings +that are to be, or should be, his. Was it +not then as a true lover that in the early +morning I walked into the country, and +down the banks of the stream where Sylvia +and I had strayed and talked in the +sunny days of youth? And nature seemed +a part of the wedding procession, and the +squirrels on the fence rails, and the robins, +wrens, and wood-thrushes in the trees +chirped and twittered: "John Stanhope is +in love! John Stanhope is in love!" And +the mocking crow, lazily flapping his +wings at a safe distance, croaked enviously: +"Ha, ha! old Stanhope is in love. Ha, +ha!" Yet the whole conspiracy of animated +nature could not make old Stanhope +in his present exaltation regretful of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81" href="#Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> +his age or ashamed of his passion.</p> + +<p>Mary Eastmann had accepted the situation +without comment. She neither congratulated +nor demurred, but went on +with her household duties with the same +method and precision as before. Men +may come and go, hearts may be won and +lost, republics may totter and empires may +fall, but the grand scheme of sweeping, +dusting, bed-making, and cooking knows +no interruption. If I did not understand +I at least commended this housewifely +prudence, and often when the domestic +battle was at its height I would spirit +away my little charmer for the discussion +of topics within my comprehension. At +the outset I had declared that while it had +pleased Providence to begin our romance +in a burying-ground, I did not propose +to sacrifice all tender sentiment to meditations +among the tombs, and I bore her +away to the old tree down by the river, +where we sat for hours together as I unfolded +my plans for our future life.</p> + +<p>A man who has sat at the feet of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82" href="#Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> +philosophers from Ovid to Schopenhauer, +and has gorged his intellect with the +abstract principles of love, naturally +adapts himself to the professorial capacity, +and I soon saw that Phyllis, +while one of the most lovable, one +of the sweetest of girls, was almost +wholly ignorant of the psychology of passion. +I could not expect that a young +girl of twenty-two would discourse glibly +of the emotion in its intellectual phase, but +I could not bear the thought that she +should enter lightly into so serious a compact, +and without gaining a reasonable +comprehension of its mental analysis. +Hence, as opportunity presented, I enriched +her mind with the beauties of love +from the standpoint of philosophers and +thinkers, and showed her the priceless +blessings that must result from a union +dictated by careful provision of reasoning. +To these addresses she listened with sweet +patience, and if she did not always grasp +their meaning, she showed much admiration +for my erudition and frequently remarked<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83" href="#Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> +that she had no idea that love was +so abstruse a science. It seemed to me, +in the serenity of my years and the calm +assurance of my love, that I was a most +persistent wooer, and I was greatly grieved +when she broke out rather petulantly one +afternoon:</p> + +<p>"I don't believe you really love me."</p> + +<p>"You don't believe I love you? And +why?"</p> + +<p>She hesitated, half abashed by her own +outburst, then added a little defiantly: +"Well, in the first place, you never +quarrel with me."</p> + +<p>"And why should I quarrel with you? +Aren't you the most amiable, the most +perfect little woman in the world?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, of course; I know all that. But +I have always read, and always believed, +that when two persons are truly, deeply +in love, they have most exciting quarrels. +Is it not true that in all romances the +man is eternally quarrelling with the girl +and bidding her farewell forever?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and coming back in ten minutes<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84" href="#Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> +to weep and grovel at her feet and beg +her to forgive him. My dear little +Phyllis, why should I bid you farewell +forever, when I am morally certain that +in half that time I should be cringing +in the turf, weeping and begging you to +say that all is forgiven and forgotten?"</p> + +<p>"That would be lovely," she said +pensively.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps, but it would be very undignified +and unnecessary. And I am not +at all sure that you would admire me +in that attitude even if I did imitate the +heroes of romance. A weeping lover is +much more agreeable in a novel than +in actual life. However if you insist that +we must quarrel, in order to demonstrate +the sincerity of my affection, I shall suggest +that we have our spats when we +part for the night, in order that no precious +waking hours may be lost."</p> + +<p>"You are joking," she exclaimed with +a little pout.</p> + +<p>"Not at all. Still," I added reflectively, +"even this plan has its disadvantages,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85" href="#Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> +for if we quarrel when we part +at night, it will necessitate my return +to your window, which would not only +annoy your aunt but might scandalize +the neighbors. Furthermore it might +give me a shocking cold, unless you +immediately repented, for the nights are +very damp. No," I sighed with great +feeling, "all this seems impracticable. +You must give me a better reason for +my coldness."</p> + +<p>Phyllis toyed with a clover blossom, +and made no answer. I went on:</p> + +<p>"As a slight indication of my unlover-like +hauteur, let me confess that I am +going to bring you a marvellously glittering +bauble when I come back from the +city, something that will bewilder you +by day and dazzle you by night."</p> + +<p>She shrugged her shoulders. "Of +course you are; you are always giving +me presents."</p> + +<p>I laughed at this. "Well, suppose +I am; I have never heard that it is a sign +of waning affection to bestow gifts on the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86" href="#Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> +loved one."</p> + +<p>"You refuse me nothing. I dare say +you would give me the Boston State +House if I wished it."</p> + +<p>"No, you are wrong there," I replied +decisively. "If I bought the State +House I should be compelled to include +the emblematic codfish, and you know my +aversion to codfish."</p> + +<p>She smiled at the thought, recalling +the Sunday breakfast, and then with a +roguish look and a half-embarrassed laugh +she said: "At all events you cannot +deny that you did not kiss me when you +left last night."</p> + +<p>"Didn't I?" I asked in amazement, +and then, quite thrown off my guard, I +added thoughtlessly: "I had forgotten."</p> + +<p>"That," she replied quietly, "was +because you were so taken up with the +philosophy of love, and the mental attitude, +that you overlooked the physical +demonstration. Do you remember the +conversation?"</p> + +<p>Unfortunately I did. I recalled that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87" href="#Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> +I had spent an hour or more defining +the moral status of love and proving the +sufficing reason. It was not a pleasant +reflection that so agreeable and instructive +a conversation was not thoroughly +appreciated.</p> + +<p>"We spoke at length on love," I ventured +feebly.</p> + +<p>"That is, you did," she replied. "I'll +admit that it was better than an ordinary +sermon, because the subject was more +personal. But don't you think we +admitted the sufficing reason at the start, +and isn't it natural that a girl who has +been conventionally brought up is pretty +well satisfied in her own mind of the +moral status? Of course," she added, +with a toss of her pretty head, "I am +not asking you or anybody else to kiss +me. I am merely curious to know if +this plays any part in the philosophy +of love as understood by the greatest +thinkers."</p> + +<p>Her speech had given me time to pull +myself together. "No," I said with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88" href="#Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> +marked emphasis, "I did not kiss you, +because I had noted the unworthy suspicions +you have expressed to-day, and I +was hurt and grieved. It was hard for +me to exhibit my displeasure in this way, +and I am regretful now that I have learned +that it was simply playfulness on your +part. Don't interrupt. I am satisfied +that the pure merriment of your nature +is responsible for this assault, and I shall +take great pleasure in making up this +evening for the deficiencies of last night."</p> + +<p>She laughed and we were friends again. +And with such jocular asperities the days +passed quickly and agreeably until my +nephew arrived with the plans and specifications. +Frederick Grinnell was not only +my nephew, but an architect of reputation +and promise, considering his years and experience. +Like Phyllis he had been left +an orphan early in life, and it had been my +pleasure and privilege to give him an education +and see that he was fairly started +in life. While I think I may say that +Frederick was not quite so attractive as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89" href="#Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> +was I at his age, he was nevertheless a fine, +manly young fellow, tall, well put together, +of good habits, industrious and +devoted to his profession. It pleased me +to see that he admired Phyllis's pretty +face and bright, animated manner; but +one evening, when I fancied that he was +too deeply stirred by her really beautiful +voice, I took the opportunity to converse +with him confidentially as we walked +back to the tavern.</p> + +<p>"I have been intending to tell you, +Frederick," I began a little airily, "of the +relations existing between Miss Kinglake +and myself. So far it has been a profound +secret"—I did not then know +that the entire village was gossiping about +it—"but I feel that I owe it to you, as +my nearest relative, to admit that Miss +Kinglake and I are engaged."</p> + +<p>I paused, and noting that he did not +wince or appear in the least degree discomposed, +continued:</p> + +<p>"Of course you will respect my confi<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90" href="#Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span>dence +in this matter. Of course," I added +magnanimously, "it will be perfectly +proper for you to signify to Miss Kinglake +that you are aware of our little secret +as that will put us all on a better +basis and lead to no misunderstandings. +It would be awkward to play at cross purposes, +and I should be extremely sorry, +my dear boy, to think that I had withheld +anything from you, for you have +always enjoyed my fullest trust."</p> + +<p>Whatever he may have thought, his +manner betrayed no unusual interest. +"I congratulate you," he replied very +calmly.</p> + +<p>Now that so perfect an understanding +existed in the immediate family circle, I +gave myself no further uneasiness. I +was truly rejoiced to notice that Frederick +was deferentially polite to Phyllis, and I +encouraged him to show her those polite +attentions which my betrothed would +reasonably expect from my nephew. +And at times I even insisted that he should +represent me at certain gatherings of +Phyllis's friends, who were too young and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91" href="#Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> +frivolous to claim my serious attention. +When he protested, and pleaded headache, +business, or other sign of disinclination, I +rallied him good-humoredly on his lack +of gallantry.</p> + +<p>"Nonsense, my boy," I argued; "a +young fellow of your spirit should be +only too glad to go out with a pretty girl +and enjoy himself. You certainly would +not deprive Phyllis of an evening's pleasure +because your uncle has a stiff knee +which interferes with his dancing, and—confound +it, you know they never let me +smoke at these frolics. Come now, be a +good fellow and show the proper family +impulse."</p> + +<p>As they went off together I looked at +them admiringly and rather fancied that I +saw in them a suggestion of what Sylvia +and I had been when we made the rounds +of the birthday parties. For it is fair to +confess that the image of Sylvia did not infrequently +rise before me, and I constantly +saw in Phyllis the replica of her adorable +mother. In my happiest moments I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92" href="#Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> +spoke of this suggestion to Phyllis, and +continued to regale her with fragments of +my early life associated with her family. +At first I thought that the girl was somewhat +piqued, fearing that Frederick was +thrust upon her, although she admitted +that he was good-looking, polite, and +danced extremely well, but I succeeded in +convincing her that true love should not +be gauged by the low standards of hot-night +dancing, and that all philosophers +agree that the purest affection springs from +quiet contemplation, such as I should enjoy +while she was making merry with her +friends. To this she once ventured to +remark that in that case perhaps my affection +would thrive to greater advantage if +I contented myself with thinking about +her and not seeing her at all, a suggestion +which wounded me in my tenderest sensibilities, +for I was very much in love. I +was also not a little disturbed when, supplemental +to my reminiscences, Mary +went back to the past and humorously +drew pictures of me as her own early<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93" href="#Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> +lover. There is considerable difference +between the impalpable, airy spirit of the +fancy and a wrinkled and austere feminine +actuality of fifty.</p> + +<p>In the midst of these innocent and improving +pleasures a small cloud appeared +in the summer sky. I received a letter +addressed in a peculiar but not ornate +hand, and I opened it with misgivings +and read it with consternation.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">Mr. Stanhope sir</span>: Prudence and I thinks +youd better come home. The plummer was +hear twice yisterday and the cutworms is awfle. +Hero got glass in her foot and the brown tale +moths is bad again wich is al for the presnt.</p> + +<p class="cite"> +Respecfuly<br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Malachy</span>.<br /> +</p></div> + +<p>Duty is one of the exactions of life +which I have never shirked when there +seemed no possible way of evading it, +but in this instance the call of duty was +compromised by matters of equal urgency, +for nothing can be more important than +the successful administration of the affairs +of love. It was a happy thought<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94" href="#Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> +that suggested to me a way out of the +difficulty, which was neither more nor less +than that we should all go to the city +together. I sprang the proposition at a +family conference. Phyllis was delighted. +"There is always so much to be seen in +the city," she cried, "and I shall meet +Mr. Bunsey. It has been one of the +dreams of my life to know a real literary +man."</p> + +<p>This appeared to call for an explanation. +Heaven knows I am not jealous +of Bunsey, and would not deprive him of +a single distinction that is honestly his. +But a regard for the truth, coupled with +much doubt as to Bunsey's ability to live +up to such lively expectations, compelled +me to resort to a little gentle correction.</p> + +<p>"My dear Phyllis," I said, "you must +disabuse your mind of that fallacy. Bunsey +is a popular novelist, not a literary +man."</p> + +<p>"But isn't a novelist a literary man?" +she asked in amazement.</p> + +<p>"Not necessarily," I replied pityingly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95" href="#Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> +"In fact I may say not usually. Of course +we are speaking of popular novelists. +The popularity of the novelist is in proportion +to his lack of literary style. The +distinctive popular charm of Bunsey is +that he is not literary—at least, if he is, +his critics have not succeeded in discovering +it; he successfully conceals his crime. +If he is popular, it is because he is not +literary; if he were literary he could not +be popular."</p> + +<p>"That does not seem right," said my +little Puritan.</p> + +<p>"It is not a question of ethics at all, +but a matter of taste. However, don't be +prejudiced against Bunsey because he is +a product of the time and fairly representative +of the civilization. You shall meet +him and shall learn from him how a man +may succeed in so-called literature without +any hampering literary qualifications."</p> + +<p>Mary did not receive my proposition +in a thankful and conciliatory spirit. She +shook her head doubtfully, and when we +were alone together, she gave voice to her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96" href="#Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> +fears.</p> + +<p>"Phyllis is country-bred," she said, +"and knows nothing of the toils and +snares that beset young girls in the +city."</p> + +<p>"Toils and snares," I echoed. "One +might gather from your objections that we +contemplate taking Phyllis to the city +merely to expose her to temptation and +corrupt the serenity of her mind. You +seem to forget the elevating influences of +my modest home."</p> + +<p>"No, John; I dare say that your home +is not objectionable, taken by itself. But +I am not blind to the seductions of the +great city. You too forget," she added, +with a touch of complacency, "that I am +not inexperienced or without knowledge +of the profligacy of the town."</p> + +<p>"Granting all this," I said, highly diverted +by her earnestness, "and what are +some of these seductions you have in +mind?"</p> + +<p>"Theatres," she replied promptly, +"theatres and late hours, midnight suppers—and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97" href="#Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> +cocktails."</p> + +<p>I laughed uproariously. "My dear +Mary, if these deadly sins and perils +alarm you, we'll cut them out. I care +little for theatres, and less for midnight +suppers. And as for cocktails, I shall +make it my peculiar charge to see that +Phyllis never hears the abominable word. +Allowing for the removal of these temptations, +I still think that a trip to the city +would do our country flower a world of +good, though I have nothing but praise +for the manner in which you have brought +her up."</p> + +<p>"John," she answered very gravely, +"I have endeavored to do my duty as I +saw it. I have tried to bring Phyllis up +in the nurture and admonition of the +Lord."</p> + +<p>The expression carried me back to my +childhood, and I bit my lips. "Of +course you have," I said. "Wasn't I +brought up in this same village, in the +same way? Did not my good mother +and my blessed, grandmother inflict nurture<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98" href="#Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> +and admonition upon me, that I +might grow up as you see me, a true child +of the pilgrim fathers? The nurture, I +remember, was a particularly hard seat in +our particularly gloomy old meetinghouse, +and the admonition took up the +greater part of the Sabbath day, with a +disenchanting prospect of further admonition +at home if I failed to keep awake. +I do not mean to say that I am not +thankful for the experience. In truth I +am doubly thankful—thankful that I had +it, and thankful that it is over."</p> + +<p>To this Mary vouchsafed no further +remonstrance than a distrustful shake of +the head. Excellent woman! Is it not +to such as you, earnest, faithful, self-sacrificing, +God-fearing, that the best in +young manhood, the purest in young +womanhood, owe the strength of the +qualities that are the vital force of the +nation?</p> + +<hr /> +<p> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99" href="#Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="dropcapn">I</span><span style="margin-left: -.7em;"><b>N</b></span> the end the united opposition was +too much for Mary's arguments, and +to town we went. The pleasure of +the journey, on my part, was somewhat +clouded as to the welcome we should receive +from Prudence, and truly it acquired +my greatest powers of dissimulation to +feign an easy indifference and air of +authority before that worthy creature, as +with the most studied politeness and +formal hospitality she received us at the +gate. Prudence and I had sparred so +many years that we were like two expert +athletes, and while neither apparently +noticed the other, each was perfectly +conscious of the adversary's slightest +movement. Hence I detected at once +her strong aversion to Mary, whom she +immediately selected as a probable mistress, +and I saw her several times vainly +try to repress a grimace of disdain and +wrath. It was my first impulse to follow +Prudence into the kitchen, after the ladies +had gone to their rooms, and make a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100" href="#Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> +clean breast of the untoward tidings, but +I lacked the moral courage and contented +myself with an inward show of strength. +Why should I pander to this woman's +caprices? Was I not master in my own +house? Should I not do as I pleased? +I would punish her with the severity of +my silence, and perhaps in a week or two, +when she was more tractable, I would +condescend to tell her exactly how matters +stood. In this I would be firm.</p> + +<p>But the next morning, before my guests +were out of bed, I decided that I was not +acting wisely. Was not Prudence an +old, faithful, and trustworthy servant? +Had she not been loyal to my interests, +and was not her whole life wrapped up +in my comfort? Surely I wronged her +to withhold from her the confidence she +had so fairly earned, and the flush of +shame came to my face as I reflected that +I was indulging my first deceit. I took +a turn in the garden, in the heavenly cool +of the early morning, to compose my +nerves for a very probable ordeal, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101" href="#Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> +then I walked boldly into the kitchen +where Prudence sat, with a wooden bowl +in her lap, paring apples.</p> + +<p>It was one of the unwritten laws of the +cuisine that Prudence was never to be disturbed +when engaged in this delicate +operation. She maintained that it destroyed +the symmetry of the peel, and +I dare say she was right. Consequently +she looked at me reproachfully as I +entered, and bent again more assiduously +to her work. I was much flustered by +the ill omen, but I knew that if I hesitated +I was lost; so I advanced valorously, +though with accelerated pulse, and +said with all the calmness I could +command:</p> + +<p>"Prudence, I think it only right to tell +you that I am going to be married."</p> + +<p>One apple rolled from the bowl down +along the floor and under the kitchen +stove. I cannot conceive of any shock, +however great, that would cause Prudence +to lose more than one apple. Partly to +conciliate, and partly to conceal my own<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102" href="#Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> +trepidation, I made a gallant effort to +rescue the wanderer, and as I poked the +hiding-place with my stick, I heard her +say: "Lord, I know'd it'd come!"</p> + +<p>"The fact that it has come, Prudence," +I answered with a sickly attempt at +gayety, "does not seem to be a reason +why you should call with such vehemence +on your Maker. There does not +appear to be any need of Providential +interposition. Things are not so bad +as all that."</p> + +<p>I always used my most elegant English +when conversing with Prudence. If she +did not understand it, it flattered her to +think that I paid this tribute to her +intelligence.</p> + +<p>"Mr. John," she said, and there was +a suspicious break in her voice, "for +twenty years I have tried to do my duty +by you, and now that I must go—"</p> + +<p>"Go?" I interrupted; "who said +you must go? Who spoke about anybody's +going? You certainly do not +expect to turn that bowl of apples over<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103" href="#Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> +to me and leave me to get breakfast?"</p> + +<p>"No, Mr. John, I shall go on and do +my duty, as I see it, until you have made +all your plans and are comfortable."</p> + +<p>"Now, look here, Prudence, I am very +comfortable as things are, thank you. +And you will pardon me if I say I cannot +understand why you should go at all. I +shall continue to eat, I hope, after I am +married, and I think it altogether probable +that I shall require a house-keeper and +a cook. I believe they do have such +things in well-regulated families."</p> + +<p>"At my age, and with my experience, +and considerin' how we have lived, Mr. +John, I couldn't get along with a mistress, +'specially," she added with a touch +of malice, "with a woman considerable +older than me."</p> + +<p>"Older than you? What are you +talking about? Miss Kinglake is young +enough to be your daughter."</p> + +<p>Another apple rolled on the floor. +"Miss Kinglake!" she exclaimed in +astonishment, "that lamb? Good Lord,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104" href="#Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> +I thought you were goin' to marry the +other one!"</p> + +<p>"Prudence," I said rather hotly, for I +did not relish her amazement, "you will +oblige me by not speaking of these ladies +as the 'lamb' and 'the other one.' I might +gather from your remarks that I am a sort +of ravening wolf, instead of a well-meaning +gentleman who is merely exercising +the privilege of selecting a wife. But," +I said, checking myself, for I was ashamed +of my explosion, "I shall be magnanimous +enough to believe that you are delighted +with my choice, and that I have your +congratulations. You will be glad to +know that Miss Kinglake and I are +perfectly satisfied with each other, and +that we are both entirely satisfied with +you. And now that we understand the +situation, I think I may presume that +we shall have breakfast at the usual hour +this morning, and to-morrow morning, +and for many mornings to come. And, +by the way, Prudence, while I have +honored you with my confidence, permit<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105" href="#Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> +me to impress it upon you that this +revelation is not village gossip as yet, +and you will put me under further obligations +by not mentioning the circumstance. +Good-morning, Prudence. Kindly call +the ladies at eight o'clock."</p> + +<p>And thereupon I hastily departed, +leaving the good woman in a state of +stupefaction, since, for the first and only +time in our long and controversial association, +had I retired with the last word. +Taking a second turn in the garden +I encountered Malachy, and my conscience +reproached me. "Am I doing +right," I asked myself, "in withholding +the glad news from this faithful servant +who has shown himself so worthy of my +confidence? Is it not my duty to tell +him—not so much to interest him in +his future mistress as to demonstrate the +trust I repose in him?"</p> + +<p>Malachy received my confidence with +less excitement than I had expected. In +fact I was slightly humiliated by his seeming +lack of gratitude. He touched his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106" href="#Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> +hat very respectfully, and observed irrelevantly +that the roses below the arbor +were looking uncommonly well. This +was a poor reward for my attempt at +consideration, and further convinced me +of the uselessness of establishing anything +like intimate relations with the +proletariat.</p> + +<p>"By the way, Malachy," I said in +parting, "you will keep this matter a +profound secret. Miss Kinglake and I +are desirous that we shall not be annoyed +by village chatter and premature +congratulations."</p> + +<p>Having discharged my duty to my +good servants, I felt that my obligations, +so far as the relation with Phyllis was +concerned, were at an end, and the morning +wore away without further misgivings +of disloyalty. In the afternoon Bunsey +came over for his daily smoke, and as we +sat together in the library, and I noticed +the entire absence of suspicion in his +manner, my heart smote me. "Truly," +I reasoned silently, "I am behaving ill to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107" href="#Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> +an old friend who has never withheld +from me the very secrets of his soul. +Should I not be as generous, as outspoken, +with him as he has always proved +to me? Should I not confide to him this +one precious secret, at the same time +swearing him to preserve it as he would +his life?"</p> + +<p>I blew out a ring of smoke, and then +I began with the utmost seriousness: +"Bunsey, how do you like the ladies?"</p> + +<p>He shifted his position, tipped the +ashes from his cigar, and replied tranquilly: +"Oh, I dare say I shall in +time."</p> + +<p>The answer vexed me. Bunsey was a +bachelor, and should have been therefore +the more impressionable. I forgot for the +moment, in my annoyance, that he was +a novelist, and had been so diligently +creating lovely and impossible women to +order that he was not easily moved by +the realities of humanity.</p> + +<p>"At all events," I replied with delicate +irony, "I am glad that the future is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108" href="#Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> +hopeful for the ladies. My reason for +asking the question was simply to lead +the way to a confidence I intend to repose +in you. To proceed expeditiously +to the end of a long story, I intend to +marry one of them."</p> + +<p>Bunsey's tranquillity was unshaken. +"Which one?"</p> + +<p>"Which one?" I echoed with heat, +"why, Miss Kinglake, of course."</p> + +<p>"Does she intend to marry you?"</p> + +<p>"Naturally."</p> + +<p>"Or unnaturally?"</p> + +<p>"Confound your impertinence!" I +roared, "what do you mean by that?"</p> + +<p>"No impertinence, at all, my dear +fellow. In fact it is most pertinent. +Miss Kinglake is a girl, and you—well, +you voted for Grant."</p> + +<p>"Which is your gentle way of saying +that I am too old."</p> + +<p>"No, not too old; just old enough—to +know better."</p> + +<p>"We are never too old to love," I +said, conscious that I was uttering a melancholy<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109" href="#Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> +platitude.</p> + +<p>"Too old to love? Heaven forbid! +But we may be too old to marry—at +least to marry anybody worth while. +Come, Stanhope, tell me: do you really +love this young woman?"</p> + +<p>"Love her? Here I have been telling +you that I intend to marry a charming +girl, and you turn about and ask me if I +love her. Of course I love her. I have +been loving her in one way and another +for years."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean by that? I thought +you only met her a few weeks ago."</p> + +<p>I smiled pityingly. "So I did, but +for years she has been my affinity. Incidentally +I don't mind saying I began by +loving her mother."</p> + +<p>Bunsey sat up straight. "Oh, you +loved her mother. Was her mother +pretty?"</p> + +<p>"She was as you see Phyllis. In fact +I think she was, if anything, a trifle prettier. +We were playmates and schoolmates, +and in the nature of things, if I had not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110" href="#Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> +wandered off to the city, I presume we +should have married. Dear little Sylvia," +I went on musingly, "I can see her at +this moment, looking down from heaven +and smiling on my union with her daughter. +For if ever a match was made in heaven +this was. Confound it! what are you +doing now?"</p> + +<p>While I was talking Bunsey had reached +over, taken a sheet of paper and was busily +writing. He looked up carelessly.</p> + +<p>"Your story interests me, and is such +good material that I thought I would make +a few notes. Young boy loves young +girl—goes to city—forgets her—young +girl marries—has charming daughter—dies—years +pass—venerable gentleman +returns—sees daughter—great emotion +on part of v. g.—thinks he loves her—proposes—accepted—mar—no, +there I +think I must stop for the present."</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't stop there, I beg," I said +sarcastically; "if you are thinking of using +these materials for one of your popular +novels, be sure to throw in a few duels,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111" href="#Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> +several heartrending catastrophes, and +other incidents of what you call 'action,' +appropriately expressed in bad English."</p> + +<p>Bunsey was imperturbable. "Thank +you for your appreciative estimate of my +literary style," he replied coolly; "but +really, my consideration for my old friend +deprives me of the pleasure of robbing his +diary."</p> + +<p>I was still out of temper. "Bunsey, +I don't mind favoring you with a further +confidence. You're an ass!"</p> + +<p>With this parting shot I strode out of +the library, when, remembering the sacredness +of my revelation, I turned back.</p> + +<p>"Of course you will understand, Bunsey, +that however flippantly you may +choose to regard what I have said to you, +you will have the decency to keep the +subject-matter to yourself. I do not ask +your congratulations or your approval, but +I demand your secrecy."</p> + +<p>"The ass brays acknowledgments," +answered Bunsey meekly, helping himself +to another cigar. "You may rely on my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112" href="#Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> +loyal and devoted interest. The fact that +I have heard your secret twice before to-day +shall not open my lips or cause me to +violate your trust."</p> + +<p>Notwithstanding my attitude of indifference +I was greatly troubled by Bunsey's +unfeeling suggestion. Could it be possible +that I had mistaken my own heart? +Was I, yielding, as I had believed, to the +first strong passion of my life, only deluding +myself with a remembrance of my +vanished youth? I dismissed the thought +impatiently. For, after all, was not Bunsey +a hopeless cynic, a fellow without a single +emotion of the ennobling sentiment of +man toward woman, a sordid story-teller, +who created characters for money, wrecked +homes, committed literary murders, played +unfeelingly on the tenderest sensibilities, +and boasted openly that the only +angels were those made by a stroke of the +pen and retailed at department store book-counters? +And while thus reasoning +Phyllis came to me, so winsome in her +girlish beauty, so radiant in the happiness<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113" href="#Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> +I had infused into her life, so joyous +in the pleasures of the present, that I +laughed at my own doubts, reproached +myself for my own unworthy suspicions, +and straightway forgot both Bunsey and +his evil promptings.</p> +<hr /> +<p> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114" href="#Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="dropcap">L</span><span style="margin-left: -.7em;"><b>OVE</b></span> at eight and forty is a very<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115" href="#Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> +pleasant and indolent emotion, +marking the most delightful stage +in the progress of the great human +passion. At twenty-five we talk it; at +thirty-five we act it; at forty-five it is +pleasant to sit down and think about +it. The very young man loves without +really analyzing. Ten years later he +analyzes without really loving. In another +decade he has compounded the proportions +of love and analysis, and becomes, +under favoring conditions, the most +dangerous and hence the most acceptable +of suitors. The man in middle life takes +his adored one tolerantly, and keeps his +reservations to himself. In the ordinary +course of events he has acquired a certain +knowledge of feminine character, he +knows the rocks and the shoals of love, +and, skillful pilot that he is, he avoids +them. He is sure of his course, master +of his equipment. If he errs at all—but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116" href="#Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> +I anticipate.</p> + +<p>Those were very joyous days, notwithstanding +the applications of cold water +so liberally bestowed by my confidential +advisers. And eagerly and successfully +I exerted myself to convince the doubting +ones in general, and Bunsey in particular, +how absurd were their suspicions, +and how apparent it was that Phyllis and +I had been purposely created for each +other. Mary threw herself into our +pleasures as heartily and joyously as +her New England nature would permit, +which was never a very riotous demonstration, +and Phyllis, with the effervescence +and enthusiasm of girlhood, eagerly +assented to every proposition that had +its pleasure-seeking side; while I, as a +thoughtful lover should, busied myself +in schemes for summer dissipation, thankful +that it was in my power to prove +so devoted a knight, and inwardly rejoicing +at my triumph over those who had +taxed me with such unworthy thoughts. +Even Frederick—good fellow that he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117" href="#Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> +was—allowed himself unusual days of +vacation to partake of our merriment, +and it pleased me greatly to see that when +business cares or physical disinclination +kept me off the programme, he no longer +allowed his indifference to interfere with +his duty as my nephew and personal +representative. Such, I take it, is the +obligation of all young men similarly +placed.</p> + +<p>For, before many weeks had passed, +I discovered that it was not wise to allow +the fleeting dissipations of the moment, +however alluring, to monopolize time +which should be given to the serious +affairs of life. I found that a cramped +position in a boat in the hot sun brought +on nervous headaches, and that too much +time in the garden when the dew +was falling was conducive to lumbago. +Furthermore I had been invited by a +neighboring university to deliver my celebrated +lecture on the protagonism of +Plato, and several new and excellent +thoughts had come to me which required<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118" href="#Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> +careful and elaborate development. I +explained these matters conscientiously +and fully to Phyllis, and while she offered +no unreasonable protest, her pretty face +clouded, and she did me the honor to +say that half the enjoyment was removed +by my absence. Once she even went +so far as to declare that Plato was a +"horrid man," and that she believed I +thought more of him than of her—a +most ridiculous conclusion but so essentially +feminine that I forgave her at once. +And, when she came to me, and put +her arms around my neck and urged me +to go with her to a tennis match—a +foolish game where grown-up people +knock little balls over a net with a battledore—I +pointed out to her that such +spectacles, while eminently proper for +young folk, argued a failing mind in those +of maturer years. With a charming pout +she said:</p> + +<p>"Do you think you would have refused +to go if my mother had asked you?"</p> + +<p>Now tennis is a sport that has come<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119" href="#Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> +up since Sylvia and I were children +together, but I recalled, with a guilty +blush, the time when she and I won the +village championship in doubles in an +all day siege of croquet, so what could +I say in my own defence? Therefore +I went with Phyllis to the tennis-court +and sat for two long and inexpressibly +dreary hours watching the senseless and +stupid proceedings. It was pleasant to +reflect that I was with Sylvia's daughter, +and I tried to imagine that the keen +interest of youth still remained, but I +was sadly out of place. I am satisfied +that this game of tennis has nothing of +the fascinating quality of croquet. On +our arrival home Phyllis kissed me, and +thanked me for what she called my +"self-denial," but after that one experience +Frederick represented me at the +tennis-court, as, indeed, the good-natured +boy consented to do at many similar +festivities.</p> + +<p>And so the summer wore gradually +away, one day's enjoyment lazily following<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120" href="#Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> +another's, with nothing to disturb the +serenity of my life, or to interfere with the +calm content into which I had settled. +Phyllis was everything that a moderate +and reasonable lover could wish—kind, +gentle, affectionate within the bounds of +maidenly discretion, attentive to my wishes, +and considerate of my caprices. The more +I saw of her the more I was persuaded +that I had chosen wisely and well. One +afternoon—Frederick, at my suggestion, +had gallantly given up his work in the +office and taken Phyllis down the river. +I sat with Bunsey in the library, and took +occasion to expound to him the philosophy +of perfect love.</p> + +<p>"The trouble is," I said, "that people +rush blindly into matrimony. They think +they are in love, work themselves up to +the proper pitch of madness, propose and +marry while they are in delirium. Hence, +so much of the wretchedness and misery +that we see in the homes of our friends. +For my part I am committed to the doctrine +of affinities. It is true that I, like<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121" href="#Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span> +many others, was guilty of the usual folly +in my youth, and perhaps that gave me +the wisdom to wait for my second venture +until precisely the fight party came along. +Matrimony, Bunsey, is an exact science. +If we regulate our passion, control all silly +emotion, study feminine nature as critically +and methodically as we investigate +a mathematical problem, and commit ourselves +only when the affinity presents herself, +we shall make no mistakes. For, +after all, what is an affinity? Nothing +more than a human being sent by Providence +as perfectly adapted to the wheels +and curves of your nature."</p> + +<p>"A very pretty theory," retorted Bunsey, +grimly; "and, by the way, when do +you think of rushing into matrimony?"</p> + +<p>"Really," I said, somewhat confused, +"to be entirely honest with you, I have +not settled on any particular day. You +see Phyllis should have her fling. She is +very young."</p> + +<p>"True, but you are not."</p> + +<p>As Bunsey said this he rose and tossed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122" href="#Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span> +his cigar out of the window. "Stanhope," +he went on, "we are old friends, and I don't +wish to be continually seeming to interfere +with your business, but if I were a man with +fifty years leering hideously at me, and +engaged to a pretty girl of two and twenty, +I'd make quick work of it before Providence +came along with a younger affinity +in a Panama hat, negligée shirt, and duck +trousers."</p> + +<p>I stared at him with a sort of helpless +amazement. "Exactly what do you +mean?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Well," he answered, shrugging his +shoulders, "at the risk of being kicked +out of the house, let me say that I think +such an affinity has already presented himself."</p> + +<p>"Indeed, and who may that be?"</p> + +<p>"Suppose we say Frederick."</p> + +<p>"My nephew?"</p> + +<p>"Exactly; your nephew. He is an uncommonly +good-looking fellow, and, +thanks to his uncle's childlike belief in +Providence and the doctrine of affinities,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123" href="#Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span> +he has most unusual opportunities to test +that doctrine for himself. I dare say that +he is making a formal study of the situation +at this very moment, and inviting +Providence to appear on the scene as his +sponsor."</p> + +<p>What more was said at this interview, if, +indeed, it did not terminate with this brutal +statement, I cannot recall, for Bunsey, +usually so flippant and cynical, spoke with +an earnestness that stunned me. My +knowledge of the philosophy of love told +me that he was wrong; my observation of +the actualities of life made me fear that +he might be right. Theoretically, I could +not have been mistaken in my course; +practically, I began to see weak spots in the +chain of evidence. Swiftly, I ran over +the events of the spring and summer, and +as little spots no bigger than a man's hand +magnified themselves into black clouds, +Bunsey, sitting opposite, seemed to grow +larger and larger, and his smile more malicious +and demon-like. Possibly, had I +been a younger and more impetuous man,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124" href="#Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> +I should have flown into a passion, taken +Bunsey at his word, and kicked him out +of the house; but the philosophy of the +thing engrossed me, filled me with half +fear, half curiosity, and engaged all my +mental faculties. Had I been mistaken? +Could I be deceived in the daughter of +Sylvia?</p> + +<p>However strong my suspicions may +have been, they were not increased when, +with the evening, Phyllis and Frederick +came home from their excursion. Never +was Phyllis more unreserved, more cordial, +more joyous, more attentive to the little +wants, which I, in a mean and shameful +test, imposed on her. She could not be +acting a part, this New England girl, with +her alert conscience, her Puritan impulse +and training, her aversion to everything +that savored of deceit. And Frederick +was as much at his ease as if I knew +nothing, as if I had not heard of his duplicity, +as if the whole house and grounds +were not ringing with accusations of his +unworthiness. Such are the phenomena<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125" href="#Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> +of the philosophy of middle life, I insisted +that he should remain for the +evening, and, after dinner, with that contrariness +accountable only in a true student +of psychology, I made a trifling +excuse and walked down to the square, +leaving them together.</p> + +<p>The curfew was ringing as, returning, +I entered the lower gate at the end of the +garden, and passed slowly along by the +arbor. It may have been Providence, it +may have been chance, it certainly was +not philosophy that directed my steps +to the far side of the syringa hedge which +shut me off from the view of those who +might come down to the rustic seat at +the foot of the cherry tree. At least I +had no intention of playing the spy, and +when I heard Frederick's voice, and knew +instinctively that Phyllis was with him, I +quickened my pace that I might not be +a sharer of their secrets. But an irresistible +impulse made me pause when I +heard the foolish fellow say:</p> + +<p>"After to-night I shall not come again.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126" href="#Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> +It is better for us to break now than to +wait until it is too late."</p> + +<p>Her reply I could not hear. Presently +he said, and a little brokenly:</p> + +<p>"I have fought it all out. It has been +hard, so hard, but I must meet it as it +comes."</p> + +<p>Then I heard Phyllis's voice: "It is +for the best."</p> + +<p>"I believe that you care for me. I +know how much I care for you, and how +much this effort is costing me. We were +too late. No other course in honor +presents itself. God knows how eagerly +and hopelessly I have sought a way out +of this tangle of duty."</p> + +<p>Again I heard Phyllis's voice, sunk +almost to a whisper: "I have given my +word; it is for the best."</p> + +<p>"The governor has been so good to +me," Frederick exclaimed resentfully, +"that I feel like a criminal even at this +moment when I am making for him the +sacrifice of a life. He has been my +father, my protector. What I am I owe<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127" href="#Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> +to him, and I must meet him like a grateful +and honest man. You would not +have it otherwise?"</p> + +<p>And for the third time Phyllis answered: +"It is for the best."</p> + +<p>Had I been of that remarkable stuff +of which your true hero is made, of which +Bunsey's heroes are made, and had I +come up to the very reasonable expectations +of the followers of literary romance, +I should have burst through the syringa +with passion in my face and rage in my +heart and precipitated a tragedy. Or, on +the other side, I should have taken those +ridiculous children by the hand, and ended +their suffering with my blessing then and +there. But as I am only of very common +clay, with little liking for heroics, I did +what any selfish and unappreciative man +would have done, and stole quietly away. +I even felt a sort of fierce joy in the +knowledge of the security of my position, +a mean exultation in the thought that +Phyllis was bound to me, and that those +from whom I might reasonably fear the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128" href="#Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> +most, acknowledged the hopelessness of +their case. Most strangely there came to +me no resentment with the knowledge +that I had been supplanted by my nephew +in the affections of the girl; the fact that +she loved another surprised rather than +agitated me. My argument was upset, +my doctrine of affinities had been seriously +damaged in my individual case, and here +was I, who should have been yielding to +the pangs of disappointment, or raging +with wounded pride, reflecting with considerable +calmness on the reverses of a +philosopher.</p> + +<p>I went into the library and lighted +a cigar. I threw myself into an easy-chair, +and as I looked up I saw a spider-web +in a corner of the ceiling. "I must +speak to Prudence about that in the +morning," I said to myself with annoyance. +Then for the first time it came +to me that I was out of temper, for I am +customarily tranquil and not easily upset. +My mind wandered rapidly from one +thing to another, and oddly enough I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129" href="#Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> +caught myself humming a little tune +which had no sort of relevancy to the +events of the day. I tried to dismiss the +incident of the garden as the temporary +folly of a romantic girl, which would +wear itself out with a week's absence. +Why should it trouble me? Had I +been lacking in kindness or affection? +Should I be disturbed because a few +boat rides and the influence of moonlight +had wrought on a mere child? Was +I not secure in her promise, and had +I not heard her say she had given her +word? As for Frederick, was he not +my debtor? Had he not confessed it? +Then why give more thought to the +matter? It was awkward, but both were +young and both would outlive it. Sylvia +and I were young, and we outlived it.</p> + +<p>But still kept ringing in my ears that despairing +half-whisper: "It is for the best."</p> + +<p>Petulantly I threw away my cigar and +went up to my room. I walked over +to the dressing-case and turned up the +gas. The shadow displeased me and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130" href="#Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> +I lighted the opposite jet. Then I stood +squarely before the mirror and looked +critically at the reflection.</p> + +<p>Yes, John Stanhope, you are growing +old. That expanding forehead, with the +retreating hairs, tells the tale of time. +The gray upon your cheeks is whitening +and the razor must be used more vigilantly +to further deception. Those +creases in your face can no longer be +dismissed as character lines; the shagginess +of your eyebrows has the flying +years to account for it. Plainly, John, +you and humbug must part company. +You are not of this generation and it +is not for you.</p> + +<p>I turned down the gas, threw open the +window and let the moonlight filter in +through the elms and over the tops of +the little pines. The soft beauty of the +night soothed me, and gradually and +very gently my irritation and annoyance +slipped away. Why should not a young +girl, radiant in youth and beauty, affect +a young man of her generation? What<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131" href="#Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> +has an old fellow, with all his money and +worldly experience and burnt-out youth, +to give in exchange for that intoxication +which every girl may properly regard her +lawful gift? Undoubtedly I should make +a better husband, as husbands go, than +my romantic nephew, and any woman +of rare common sense would see the +advantages of my position, but why +burden a woman with that rare common +sense which robs her of the first and +sweetest of her dreams? No, John +Stanhope, go back to your pipe and your +books and your gardening, your life of +selfish, indolent do-nothing. Take life +as it comes most easily and naturally. By +sparing one heart you may save two.</p> + +<p>And that nephew of mine—what a +fine, manly fellow he proved himself when +put to the test! The governor had +been good to him and he was going to +stand by the governor. How my heart +jumped, and what a warm little feeling +there was about the internal cockles as +I recalled his words. Bravely said, my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132" href="#Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span> +boy, and nobly done! I fear I should +not have been so generous at your age, +and with Sylvia—</p> + +<p>And with Sylvia! How the past +crowded back at the thought of her! +Who are you, old dreamer, who neglected +the gift the good gods provided in the +heydey of your youth to return to chase +the phantom of the past? Behind that +little white cloud, sailing far into the +north, Sylvia may be peeping at you, +and smiling at the delusion of her ancient +wooer. Or why not think that she is +pleading with you—pleading for her +child and the lover, as she might have +pleaded for herself and somebody else, +had somebody else known his own heart +before it was too late?</p> + +<p>I watched the white cloud as it passed +on and on, growing smaller and fainter +as it receded. I settled back still deeper +in my chair and sighed. And then—O +unworthy knight of love!—and then, +I fell asleep.</p> + +<hr /> +<p> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133" href="#Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="dropcapn">I</span><span style="margin-left: -.7em;"><b>N</b></span> the morning, before the family was +astir, I wrote a note, pleading a sudden +and imperative call to town, and +vanished for the day. I argued with myself +that such a step was a delicate consideration +for a young woman, who, having +listened to a confession of love a few +hours before, would be hardly at her ease +at a breakfast-table conversation. Incidentally +I was not altogether sure of +myself, although I was much refreshed +by an excellent night's sleep which comes +to every philosopher with courage and +strength to rise above the unpleasant +things of life. If Phyllis had yielded to +an emotion of grief, there was little trace +of it when we met at evening. I fancied +that she was somewhat paler, and her +manner at times seemed a little listless, +but otherwise there was no great departure +from her usual demeanor. As for myself +the long sunshine of a summer day +and the conviction that at last the opportunity +had come to me to play the rôle<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134" href="#Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> +of a minor hero gave me a peace that +amounted almost to buoyancy. No need +had I of the teachings of the musty old +philosophers reposing on my bookshelves. +John Stanhope had learned more of life +in a few short hours than all his tomes +could impart. His books had helped +him many times in diagnosing the cases +of his friends; when John fell ill they +mocked and deceived him.</p> + +<p>Opportunely enough Phyllis followed +me into the library, and when at my request +she sat on a little stool at my feet, +and I held her hand and stroked her soft +light hair, a pang went through my heart, +for I felt that she might be near me for +the last time. The philosopher had yet +much to learn. For several minutes we +were both silent. Of the two I was +doubtless the more ill at ease, though I +concealed it bravely.</p> + +<p>"Phyllis," I said at last, "did you ever +get over a childish fondness for fairy-stories?"</p> + +<p>She smiled at this—was I wrong<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135" href="#Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> +in fancying that her smile was that +of sadness?—and answered: "I hope +not."</p> + +<p>"Because," I went on, bending over +and affectionately patting the hand I held, +"a little fairy-tale has been running +through my head all day, and I have decided +that you shall be the first to hear it +and pass on its merits. And because," I +added gayly, "if it has your approval I +may wish to publish it. Shall I begin?"</p> + +<p>She nodded her head—I could swear +now to the weariness the poor child was +so staunchly fighting—and looked off +toward the sunset.</p> + +<p>"Once upon a time—you see that I +am conventional—there lived a beautiful +young princess, on whom a wicked old +troll had cast an evil eye. Now this +wicked troll was not so hideous as the +trolls we see in our fairy-books—I must +say that—but he was so wicked that even +this deficiency could not excuse him. The +princess was as young and innocent—I +was going to say as simple—as she was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136" href="#Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> +beautiful, and the wicked troll talked so +much of his experience in the world, and +boasted so hugely of his wealth and generosity +and other shining virtues, that the +imagination of the poor little princess was +quite fired, and she was flattered into +thinking that here was a treasure not to +be lightly put aside. And so, in a foolish +moment she consented to be his bride, +and he took her away to his castle—I +believe trolls do have castles—to make +ready for the marriage. While the preparations +were going on, and the wicked +old troll was laughing with glee to think +how he had deluded a princess, a handsome +young prince appeared on the scene, +and what so natural as that the princess +should immediately contrast him with the +troll. And it came about, also quite +naturally, that before the prince and the +princess knew that anything was happening, +they fell so violently in love with +each other that the birds, and the bees, +and the flowers in the garden, and the +squirrels in the trees sang and hummed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137" href="#Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> +and gossiped and chattered about it."</p> + +<p>Here I paused. Phyllis did not look +up, but I felt a shiver run through her +body as I stroked her hair and put my +arm around her shoulder to caress away +her fear.</p> + +<p>"But it happened that although the +princess was so much in love that at times +she must have forgotten even the existence +of the old troll, she was still possessed of +that most inconvenient and annoying internal +arrangement which we call the New +England conscience, and one night, when +the prince had declared his love with more +ardor than usual, she remembered the +past, how she had promised to marry the +troll, and how she must keep her word, +as all good princesses do. And the prince, +who was a very upright young man, most +foolishly listened to her, and agreed to +give her up. Whereupon these poor +children, having resolved that it was for +the best—"</p> + +<p>Phyllis looked up quickly. Her face +was white, and a look, half of fear, half of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138" href="#Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> +reproach, came to her eyes. She sank +down and hid her face in her hands. +Both my arms were around her and I +even laughed.</p> + +<p>"Dear little princess," I whispered, "don't +give way yet. The best is still to come. For +you must remember that this is a fairy-tale +and all fairy-tales have a good ending. +And, to make a long story short, this +wicked old troll was not a troll at all, but a +fairy-godmother, who had taken the form +for good purposes. I would have said +fairy-godfather, but I have never come +across a fairy-godfather in all my reading, +and I must be truthful. Well, the fairy-godmother +came along right in the nick of +time—and, of course, you know who +married and lived happily ever after?"</p> + +<p>The convulsive movement of the poor +child's body told me she was weeping. +And I, being a philosopher, and more +or less hard-hearted, as all philosophers +are, let her weep on. Presently she said +in a voice hardly audible:</p> + +<p>"I gave you my promise and I meant<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139" href="#Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> +to keep it. I am trying so hard to keep +it."</p> + +<p>"Of course you are, little girl, but why +try? A bad promise is far better broken +than kept, and, come to think of it, I am +not at all sure that I am anxious to have +you keep it. How do you know that I +am not making a desperate effort to secure +my own release?"</p> + +<p>She raised her head quite unexpectedly +and caught me with the tears in my eyes. +My eyes always were weak. "Why, you +are crying!" she said.</p> + +<p>"Of course I'm crying. I always cry +when I am particularly well pleased. It +is a family peculiarity. You should see +me at the theatre. At a farce comedy I +am a depressing sight, and that is the +reason I always avoid the front seats."</p> + +<p>Then realizing that I might be carrying +my gayety too far, I went on more soberly:</p> + +<p>"Can't you see, Phyllis, that the old +fool's romance must come to an end? +Don't you understand that had I the +selfish wish to hold you to a thoughtless<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140" href="#Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> +promise, our adventure would terminate +only in misery to us both? Perhaps you +and I have been the last to see it, I, because +I was thinking too much of myself, +you, because you were carried away by an +exalted sense of duty. Thank heaven it +is clear to us both now. For it is clear, +isn't it, dear?"</p> + +<p>The foolish girl did not reply, but she +kissed my hand, and it is astonishing how +that little act of affection touched and +strengthened me.</p> + +<p>"So we are going to make a new start +and begin right. To-morrow I shall see +Frederick and make a proposition to +him, and if that rascal does not give up +his heroics and come down to his plain +duty as I see it—well, so much the +worse for him. No, don't raise objections"—she +had started to speak—"for +I am always quarrelsome when I cannot +have my own way. Go to your room +and think it over, and remember," I said +more gently, for that old tide of the past +was coming in, "that you are Sylvia's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141" href="#Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> +daughter, and that Sylvia would have +trusted me and counselled you to obey +me in all things."</p> + +<p>Slowly and with averted face Phyllis +rose and walked toward the door. I had +commanded her, and yet I felt a sharp +pang of bitterness that she had yielded so +quickly to my words. It seemed at the +moment that everything was passing out +of my life; that Phyllis, that Sylvia, that +all the once sweet, continuous memory was +lost to me forever. I could not call her +back, and I could not hope that she would +return. Philosopher that I was I could +not explain the sinking and the fear that +took possession of me. The philosopher +did not know himself. All his thought +and all his reasoning could not solve the +simple riddle the quick intuition of a girl +made clear.</p> + +<p>She had reached the door before she +paused. Then she turned. I had risen +mechanically and stood looking at her. +As slowly she came back and waited as if +for me to speak. And when the dull<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142" href="#Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> +philosopher groped helplessly for words +and could not meet the appealing eyes, +she put her hands on his shoulders, and +laid her warm, young face on his heart, +and said, "Father!"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The night was peacefully beautiful. +I had strolled out of the garden and +down to the river, and there along the +bridle-path on the winding bank I walked +for miles. Absorbed in my own thoughts +I gave no heed to my little dog, Hero, +trotting at my side and looking anxiously +up at me with her large brown eyes, +as if saying in her dog fashion: "Don't +worry, old man; I'm here!" A strange, +inexplicable happiness had fallen to +him who thought he knew all others, +and did not know even himself. I +crossed the river to return on the opposite +shore, and all the way back, through +the arching trees, the shadows danced +in the moonlight and the crickets chirped +merrily. Life seemed so contrary, so +bewildering, for I thought of the wedding<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143" href="#Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span> +music in those early mornings at my +boyhood home, and I wondered at the +optimism of Nature in attuning all emotions +to a joyous note.</p> + +<p>Again in my garden I saw a half-light +in Phyllis's room. Coming nearer I saw +that she was standing at the window, +with the same cloud on her face that had +betrayed the battle with her conscience. +At sight of her all the joyous emotion of +my new tenderness overwhelmed me and +I cried out cheerily:</p> + +<p>"Good-night, Phyllis!"</p> + +<p>Something in my voice sent a smile +to her eyes and gladness to her heart, as, +half leaning from the window, she kissed +her hand to me and called back softly: +"Good-night, father dear!"</p> + +<p>The south wind came, bringing the +scent of the rose and the honeysuckle, +and stirring the drowsy branches of the +elms. The river rippled merrily in the +moonlight, hurrying to bear the tidings +of happiness to the greater waters, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144" href="#Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> +off in the distance the blue hills lifted +their heads above the haze. Toward the +north scudded the friendly little white +cloud, and it seemed again a soothing +fancy that Sylvia—</p> + +<p>O sweet and pleasant world!</p> + +<p><br /><br /></p> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="1" cellpadding="10" cellspacing="2" summary="Transcriber's Notes"> +<tr><td align='left'><h3>TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES</h3> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_103">103</a>: Changed housekeeper to house-keeper for consistency.</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_116">116</a>: Changed typo "effervesence" to "effervescence."</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_142">142</a>: Changed typo "moolight" to "moonlight."</p></td></tr> +</table></div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Romance of an Old Fool, by Roswell Field + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ROMANCE OF AN OLD FOOL *** + +***** This file should be named 20661-h.htm or 20661-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/0/6/6/20661/ + +Produced by Audrey Longhurst, Suzan Flanagan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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