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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Ladies-In-Waiting, by Kate Douglas Wiggin
+
+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: Ladies-In-Waiting
+
+Author: Kate Douglas Wiggin
+
+Illustrator: Christine Tucke Curtiss
+
+Release Date: October 15, 2008 [EBook #26928]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LADIES-IN-WAITING ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+LADIES-IN-WAITING
+
+By
+KATE DOUGLAS WIGGIN
+
+WITH FRONTISPIECE BY
+CHRISTINE TUCKE CURTISS
+
+BOSTON AND NEW YORK
+HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY
+
+The Riverside Press Cambridge
+
+
+
+
+COPYRIGHT, 1919, BY KATE DOUGLAS RIGGS
+ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
+
+
+
+
+FOREWORD
+
+It may be urged that all proper heroines go through a period of
+uncertainty before giving their hands and hearts in marriage.
+Occasionally, however, there are longer seasons of indecision,
+incident to pride, high temper, or misunderstanding on the lady's
+side, or to poverty, undue timidity, or lack of high pressure on the
+part of the gentleman. I have christened the heroines of this volume
+"Ladies-in-Waiting," and that no mental picture may be formed of Queen
+and Court and Maids of Honor I have asked the artist to portray for
+the frontispiece a marriageable maiden seated pensively upon a
+hillside. Her attitude is plainly one of suspended animation while the
+new moon above her shoulders suggests to the reader that she will not
+wait in vain.
+
+                                                KATE DOUGLAS WIGGIN
+
+August 11, 1919
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+CHAPTER                         PAGE
+Miss Thomasina Tucker              1
+The Turning-Point                 97
+Huldah The Prophetess            145
+Two On A Tour                    183
+Philippa's Nervous Prostration   275
+
+
+
+
+LADIES-IN-WAITING
+
+MISS THOMASINA TUCKER
+
+I
+
+
+"Good-bye, Miss Tucker!"
+
+"Good luck, Miss Tommy!"
+
+"Bye, bye, Tomsie!"
+
+"Don't stay away too long!"
+
+These sentiments were being called from the Hoboken dock to the deck
+of an ocean steamer, while a young lady, buried in bouquets and
+bonbons, leaned over the rail, sparkling, inciting, compelling,
+responding.
+
+"Take care of yourself, Tommy!"
+
+"I don't see but that I must! Nobody else to do it!" she responded
+saucily.
+
+"You wouldn't let 'em if they tried!" This from a rosy-cheeked
+youngster who was as close to the water's edge as safety permitted.
+"Say, did you guess what my floral offering was to be when you trimmed
+your hat? I _am_ flattered!"
+
+"Sorry! The hat was trimmed weeks ago, and I'm wearing your bouquet
+because it matches."
+
+"Thanks, awfully," replied the crestfallen youth. "Plans for reduction
+of head-size constantly on file in Miss Tucker's office."
+
+"Just Carl's luck to hit on a match."
+
+"Don't see any particular luck in being accessory to a hat trimming,"
+grumbled Carl.
+
+"Write now and then, Miss Tommy, won't you?" said a fellow with
+eyeglasses and an air of fashion.
+
+"Won't promise! I'll wait till I'm rich enough to cable!"
+
+"Shilling a word's expensive, but you can send 'em to me collect. My
+word is 'Hopeful,'"--at which the little party laughed.
+
+"Register another, and make it 'Uncertain,'" called the girl
+roguishly, seeing that no one was paying any attention to her friends
+and their nonsense.
+
+"London first, is it?" asked the rosy youth. "Decided on your hotel?"
+
+"Hotel? It's going to be my share of a modest Bloomsbury lodging," she
+answered. "Got to sing my way from a third-floor-back in a side street
+to a gorgeous suite at the Ritz!"
+
+"We'll watch you!" cried three in chorus.
+
+"But we'd rather hear you, darling," said a nice, tailor-made girl,
+whose puffy eyelids looked as if she had been crying.
+
+"Blessed lamb! I hope I'll be better worth hearing! Oh, do go home,
+all of you; especially you, Jessie! My courage is oozing out at the
+heels of my shoes. Disappear! I've been farewelling actively for an
+hour and casually for a week. If they don't take off the gangplank in
+a minute or two I shan't have pluck enough to stick to the ship."
+
+"You can't expect us to brace you up, Tommy," said the rosy youth.
+"We're losing too much by it. Come along back! What's the matter with
+America?"
+
+"Don't talk to her that way, Carl,"--and the tailor-made girl looked
+at him reproachfully. "You know she's got nobody and nothing to come
+back to. She's given up her room. She's quarreled with her beastly
+uncle at last; all her belongings are in the hold of the steamer, and
+she's made up her mind."
+
+"All ashore that's going ashore!" The clarion tones of the steward
+rang through the air for the third time, and the loud beating of the
+ship's gong showed that the last moment had come. The gangplank was
+removed and the great liner pushed off and slowly wended her way
+down-river, some of the more faithful ones in the crowd waving
+handkerchiefs until she was a blur in the distance.
+
+"Well, there's no truer way of showing loyalty than by going to
+Hoboken to see a friend off," said the eyeglassed chap as he walked
+beside Jessie Macleod to the ferry. "I wouldn't do it for anybody but
+Tommy."
+
+"Nor I!" exclaimed the rosy youth. "Good old Tommy! I wonder whether
+she'll sing and have a career, or fall in love over there?"
+
+"She might do both, I should think; at least it has been done, though
+not, perhaps, with conspicuous success," was Carl's reply.
+
+"Whatever she does, we've lost her," sighed the girl; "and our little
+set will be so dull without Tommy!"
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+Fergus Appleton had leaned over the deck rail for a few moments before
+the ship started on her voyage; leaned there idly and indifferently,
+as he did most things, smoking his cigarette with an air of complete
+detachment from the world. He was going to no one, and leaving no one
+behind. He had money enough to live on, but life had always been
+something of a bore to him and he could not have endured it without
+regular occupation. His occasional essays on subjects connected with
+architecture, his critical articles in similar fields, his travels in
+search of wider information, the book on which he was working at the
+moment,--these kept him busy and gave him a sense of being tolerably
+useful in his generation. The particular group of juveniles shouting
+more or less intimate remarks to a girl passenger on board the steamer
+attracted his attention for a moment.
+
+"They are very young," he thought, "or they would realize that they
+are all revealing themselves with considerable frankness, although
+nobody seems to be listening but me!"
+
+He would not have listened, as a matter of fact, had it not been for
+the voice of the girl they called Tommy. It was not loud, but it had
+the quality of a golden bell, and Fergus was susceptible to a
+beautiful voice. One other thing--the slightest possible
+thing--enlisted his notice. She wore a great bunch of mignonette stuck
+in the waistband of her green cloth dress, and her small hat had a
+flat wreath of the same flower. Mignonette was, perhaps, the only
+growing thing of which Fergus Appleton ever took note, and its perfume
+was the only one that particularly appealed to his rather dull sense
+of smell; the reason being that in the old garden of the house in
+which he was born there was always a huge straggling patch of
+mignonette. His mother used to sit there on summer mornings and read
+to him, and when he lay on his back in the sunshine he used to watch
+the butterflies and humming-birds and trees, and sniff the fragrance
+that filled the air. When his mother died, he wandered into the
+garden, sought the familiar corner, and flung himself on the bed of
+mignonette to cry his heart out--the lonely heart of an eight-year-old
+boy. That was five and twenty years ago, but he never passed a
+florist's open door in summer-time without remembering that despairing
+hour and the fragrance of the flowers, bruised with his weight and
+moist with his tears.
+
+The girl vanished the moment the steamer was out of sight of the dock,
+and Fergus did not give her another thought for a day or two. He had
+liked her green cloth dress and the hat that framed her young,
+laughing, plucky face. He had thought her name suited her, and
+wondered what dignified appellation had been edited, cut, and
+metamorphosed to make "Tommy," deciding after a look at the passenger
+list that it was Thomasina, and that the girl must be Miss Thomasina
+Tucker, an alliterative combination which did not appeal to his
+literary taste.
+
+The voyage was a rough one, and he saw her only now and then, always
+alone, and generally standing on the end of the ship, her green cape
+blowing in a gale of wind and showing a scarlet lining, her mignonette
+hat exchanged for a soft green thing with an upstanding scarlet quill.
+She was the only companionable person on board, but he did not know
+her and sat nowhere near her at table, an assemblage of facts that
+seemed to settle the matter, considering the sort of man he was and
+the sort of girl she was.
+
+"She's too pretty and too young to be gallivanting about 'on her
+own,'" he said to himself one morning, when Tommy stood on the upper
+deck looking out to sea and, as far as he could judge, singing, though
+there was such a gale blowing that he could not hear her voice. "But
+all the girls are the same nowadays,"--and he puffed his pipe
+disconsolately; "all the same; brisk, self-supporting, good fellows.
+If I ever met a nice, unsuccessful-but-not-depressed sort of girl,
+soft but not silly, mild but not tame, flexible but not docile,
+spirited but not domineering, I think I should capitulate; but they're
+all dead. The type has changed, and I haven't changed with it."
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+Fergus Appleton did not make acquaintances easily; no man does who has
+had a lonely, neglected boyhood, his only companion a father who
+seldom remembered his existence, and, when he did, apparently
+regretted it. He had known girls, but he was a shy, silent, ugly boy,
+and appealed as little to them as they to him. He did not live through
+the twenties without discovering that a fine crop of sentiment was
+growing in his heart; he also discovered that he didn't know in the
+least what to do with it. George Meredith, speaking of Romance, says:
+"The young who avoid that region escape the title of Fool at the cost
+of a Celestial crown." Fergus Appleton wouldn't have minded being
+called a fool if only he could have contrived to deserve the title,
+and the glimmer of the crown celestial had been in his imagination
+more than once until he turned thirty and decided it was not for his
+head. Guileless school-girls did not appeal to him, and elderly sirens
+certainly had no power to charm; he was even widow-proof, so he became
+a thoroughfare for sisterly affection. Girls suffocated him with
+friendliness, which was not the stuff of which his dreams were made.
+
+However, he had nothing to complain of, for he got as good as he gave,
+and it occurred to him that he could not expect to start a disastrous
+conflagration in any maiden bosom so long as he had no brimstone, nor
+any substitute for it, on his own premises.
+
+"Anyway," he reflected (though perhaps not oftener than once a year),
+"if I haven't a tie in the world, I have complete freedom to do as I
+like!" And if the said freedom palled upon him occasionally, nobody
+was the wiser, for Fergus Appleton did not wear his heart on his
+sleeve.
+
+As for Tommy, there had been several Thomas Tuckers in genealogical
+line, and the father of Thomasina was already Thomas Tucker the third.
+Mr. and Mrs. Tucker, the parents of the first Thomas, must have been
+somewhat lacking in humor, and somewhat ignorant of the classics, for
+although they could not, perhaps, help being Tuckers, they needn't
+have saddled their offspring with a Christian name which would suggest
+Mother Goose to every properly educated person. However, the first
+Thomas grew into a great man, healthy, wealthy, and wise, and his
+descendants could hardly do less than keep his name alive. Thomas the
+third was disappointed, not to say mortified, when his only child,
+born in his old age, turned out to be a girl, but he bravely did the
+best he could and named her Thomasina. Mrs. Tucker did not like the
+name, but she died before the baby was three days old. The baby hated
+it herself when she reached years of discretion, and when she found
+that she possessed a voice and had a possible career before her, she
+saw plainly that something more mellifluous must be substituted if
+programmes should ever be in question. Meantime she was Tommy to her
+friends, and the gay little name suited her to a T. The gay little
+rhyme suited her, too, for like the Tommy Tucker in Mother Goose, she
+had to "sing for her supper"; for her breakfast, and her dinner, and
+her tea also, for that matter, if any were to be eaten.
+
+Her only relation, a disagreeable bachelor uncle, had given her a home
+during her orphaned girlhood, and her first idea on growing up was to
+get out of it. This she did promptly when she secured a place in a
+Brooklyn choir. The salary was modest, but it provided a room and at
+least one meal a day, not, of course, a Roman banquet, but something
+to satisfy a youthful appetite. It seemed to the intrepid possessor of
+a charming voice, an equally charming face, and a positive gift for
+playing accompaniments, that the other two meals, and a few clothes
+and sundries, might be forthcoming. As a matter of fact, they were,
+although the uncle said that Tommy would starve, and he almost hoped
+that she would, just to break the back of her obstinate independence.
+
+
+II
+
+
+Tommy had none too much to eat, and, according to her own æsthetic
+ambitions, nothing at all to wear; but she was busy all day long and
+absurdly happy. Her income was uncertain, but that was amusing and
+thrilling rather than pitiful or tragic. She had two or three
+"steadies" among singers, who gave her engagements as accompanist at
+small drawing-room recitals or charitable entertainments. There was a
+stout prima donna whose arias for dramatic soprano kept her practicing
+until midnight, and a rich young lady amateur who needed a very
+friendly and careful accompaniment because she sang flat and always
+lost her breath before the end of a long phrase. The manner in which
+Tommy concealed these defects was thoroughly ingenious and
+sympathetic. When Miss Guggenheim paused for breath, Tommy filled the
+gap with instrumental arabesques; when she was about to flat, Tommy
+gave her the note suggestively. If she was too dreadfully below pitch,
+and had breath enough to hang on to the note so long that the audience
+(always composed of invited guests) writhed obviously, Tommy would
+sometimes drop a sheet of music on the floor and create a diversion,
+always apologizing profusely for her clumsiness. The third patron was
+a young baritone, who liked Miss Tucker's appearance on the platform
+and had her whenever he didn't sing Schubert's "Erl König," which
+Tommy couldn't play. This was her most profitable engagement, but it
+continued alas! for only three months, for the baritone wanted to
+marry her, and she didn't like him because he was bald and his neck
+was too fat. Also, she was afraid she would have to learn to play the
+"Erl König" properly.
+
+All this time Tommy was longing to sing in public herself, and trying
+to save money enough to take more lessons by way of preparation.
+
+When she lost the baritone, who was really peevish at being rejected
+after suiting his programmes to her capacities for a whole season,
+Tommy conceived a new idea. She influenced Jessie Macleod, who had a
+fine contralto, and two other girls with well-trained voices, to form
+a quartette.
+
+"We can't get anything to do separately; perhaps we can make a
+pittance together," she said. "We'll do good simple things; our voices
+blend well, and if we practice enough there's no reason why we
+shouldn't sing beautifully."
+
+"Singing beautifully is one thing and getting engagements is another,"
+sighed Jessie Macleod.
+
+"As if I didn't know that! We can't hope to be superior to other
+quartettes, so we must be different--unusual, unique--I can't think
+just how at the moment, but I will before we make our début."
+
+And she did, for Tommy was nothing if not fertile in ideas.
+
+Every hour that the girls could spare in the month of October was
+given to rehearsal, till the four fresh young voices were like one.
+They had decided to give nothing but English songs, to sing entirely
+from memory, and to make a specialty of good words well spoken. All
+the selections but one or two were to be without accompaniment, and in
+these Tommy would sit at the piano surrounded by the other three in a
+little group.
+
+Miss Guggenheim was to give them their first appearance, invite fifty
+or sixty people, and serve tea. She kindly offered to sing some solos
+herself, but Tommy, shuddering inwardly, said she thought it was
+better that the quartette should test its own strength unaided.
+
+Miss Guggenheim couldn't sing, but she could dress, and she had an
+inspiration a week before the concert.
+
+"What are you going to wear, girls?" she asked.
+
+"Anything we have, is the general idea," said Tommy. "Mine is black."
+
+"Mine's blue"--"White"--"Pink!" came from the other three.
+
+"But must you wear those particular dresses? Can't you each compromise
+a little so as to look better together?"
+
+"So hard to compromise when each of us has one dress hanging on one
+nail; one neck and sleeves filled up for afternoons and ripped out for
+evenings!"
+
+"I should get four simple dresses just alike," said Miss Guggenheim,
+who had a dozen.
+
+"What if they should hang in our closets unworn and unpaid for?" asked
+Jessie Macleod.
+
+"We're sure to get at least one engagement some time or other. Nothing
+ventured, nothing have. We ought to earn enough to pay for the
+dresses, if we do nothing more,"--and Tommy's vote settled it.
+
+Miss Guggenheim knew people, if she did sing flat, and her
+drawing-room was full on the occasion of the début. Carl Bothwick, a
+friend of Tommy's, was in a publishing office, and nobly presented
+programmes for the occasion. The quartette had not thought of naming
+itself, but Carl had grouped the songs under the heading, "The Singing
+Girls," and luckily they liked the idea.
+
+At four o'clock the hum of conversation ceased at the sound of singing
+voices in the distance. A sort of processional effect had been Tommy's
+suggestion, and the quartette formed in the dressing-room and sang its
+way to the audience.
+
+             "Hark, hark, the lark at Heaven's gate sings,
+             And Phoebus 'gins to rise."
+
+The voices rang high and clear, coming nearer and nearer. All the
+words could be heard and understood. The hall portières divided, and
+the girls entered, all in soft gray crêpe, gardenias at the belt,
+little brimmed hats of black velvet with a single gardenia on the
+side, the flowers being the offering of the dramatic soprano, who
+loved Tommy. They were young, they were pretty, they sang delightfully
+in tune, and with quite bewitching effect. Several ladies fell in love
+with them at first sight, and hoped that they would sing for nothing a
+few times, "just to get themselves known." They had done nothing else
+for two years, so that Tommy said they must be acquainted with the
+entire State of New York, though nothing ever came of it. It was a
+joyous surprise, then, when an old gentleman in the company (who was
+seen to wipe tears away when the girls sang "Darby and Joan") engaged
+them to sing at his golden wedding the next night. That was the
+beginning of a season of modest prosperity. Tommy's baritone had
+married his new accompanist (he seemed determined to have a
+piano-playing wife), and wishing to show Miss Tucker that his heart
+was not broken by her rejection, he gave a handsome party and engaged
+the quartette, paying for their services in real coin of the realm.
+Other appearances followed in and out of town, and Tommy paid for her
+gray dress, spent a goodly sum for an attack of tonsillitis, the
+result of overwork, and still saved two hundred dollars. The season
+was over. She was fagged, but not disheartened. Who is at twenty-two?
+But it was late April, and drawing-room entertainments were no more.
+The two hundred dollars when augmented by the church salary would
+barely take her through till October.
+
+"It is very annoying," thought Tommy, "when you have to eat, drink,
+sleep, and dress twelve months in the year, that the income by which
+you do these things should cease abruptly for four months. Still,
+furriers can't sell furs in hot weather, and summer boarders can't
+board in winter, so I suppose other people have to make enough money
+in eight months to spend in twelve."
+
+             "'Hark, hark, the lark at Heaven's gate sings,
+             And Phoebus 'gins to rise!'"
+
+she caroled, splashing about in her morning tub as she finished making
+these reflections, the tub being an excellent place for trills and
+scales.
+
+Proceeding from tub to her sitting-room to make things ready for
+toilet and breakfast, her mind ran on her little problems.
+
+"I want to learn more, see more, hear more," she thought. "I have one
+of those nasty, unserviceable, betwixt-and-between talents: voice not
+high enough for 'Robert, toi que j'aime,' nor low enough for
+'Ständchen'; not flexible enough for 'Caro Nome,' nor big enough for
+'Ocean, Thou Mighty Monster'; poor French accent, worse German;
+awfully good English, but that doesn't count. Can sing old ballads,
+folk-songs, and nice, forgotten things that make dear old gentlemen
+and ladies cry--but not pay. If I were billed at all, it ought to be
+
+              "First Appearance in Public[[v:small-caps]]
+                           of[[v:small-caps]]
+                Behind-the-Times Tommy"[[v:small-caps]]
+
+This appellation so tickled her fancy that she nearly upset the
+coffee-pot, and she continued to laugh at her own wit until a fat
+letter was pushed under her door from the hall outside. She picked it
+up. It had an English postmark.
+
+"Helena Markham!" she cried, joyously.
+
+  DEAR TOMMY: [the letter read]
+
+  Don't you want to come over to London for the season? You never
+  make any money at home from June to October, and if by chance
+  you have a penny in the bank (I don't know why I say "if" when
+  none of us ever had such a thing!) I think I can put enough in
+  your way to pay part of your expenses. I am really beginning to
+  get on!--three engagements in the provincial towns all arranged.
+  My accompanist plays lots better than you do, but I don't sing
+  half so well with him as I used to with you. You somehow infuse
+  the spirit into me that I lack. I incline to be lumpy and heavy.
+  They may not notice it in the provinces, for I dare say they are
+  lumpy and heavy there, too. However, though I shall have to have
+  somebody well known over here for concerts of any great
+  pretensions, I could work you into smaller ones, and coach with
+  you, too, since I must have somebody. And you are so
+  good-looking, Tommy dear, and have such a winning profile! I am
+  plainer than ever, but no plainer than Madame Titiens, so the
+  papers say. I never saw or heard her, of course, but the critics
+  say I have the same large, "massive" style of voice and person.
+  My present accompanist would take first prize for ugliness in
+  any competition; he is more like a syndicate of plainness than
+  one single exemplification of it! I must have a noble nature to
+  think more of my audiences than of myself, but I should like to
+  give them something to please their eyes--I flatter myself I can
+  take care of their ears!
+
+  Oh, do come, Tommy! Say you will!
+
+                                                        HELENA.
+
+Tommy pirouetted about the room like an intoxicated bird, waving the
+letter, and trilling and running joyful chromatic scales, for the most
+part badly done.
+
+"Will I go to London?" she warbled in a sort of improvised recitative.
+"Will I take two or two and a half lessons of Georg Henschel? Will I
+grace platforms in the English provinces? Will I take my two hundred
+dollars out of the bank and risk it royally? Perhaps the bystanders
+will glance in at my windows and observe me giving the landlady
+notice, and packing my trunk, both of which delightful tasks I shall
+be engaged in before the hour strikes."
+
+
+III
+
+
+Fergus Appleton thought he saw "the singing girl" of his voyage from
+New York one May day in Wells, where he went to study the cathedral.
+He noticed a hansom with a pink-clad figure in the opening, looking
+like a rosebud of a new and odd sort on wheels. At least, it looked
+like a rosebud at the moment the doors rolled back like the leaves of
+a calyx, and the flower issued, triumphant and beautiful. She was
+greeted by a tall, stout young lady, who climbed into the hansom, and
+the two settled themselves quickly and drove off.
+
+Appleton's hansom followed on its own course, which chanced to be in
+the same direction, and he saw the slim and the stout disappear up a
+hilly street, at the top of which was a famous old house. He walked
+that way in the afternoon, having nothing better to do, but could
+observe no dwelling at which the two ladies might be staying. There
+was a pretty cottage with a long, graveled pathway leading to it, and
+a little sign on the locked gate reading: "Spring Cleaning. Please do
+not knock or ring." Farther along was a more pretentious house, so
+attractive that he was sorry he had never noticed it before, for the
+sign "Apartments to Let" was in one of the front windows. He heard a
+piano in the rear somewhere, but on reaching the front door another
+sign confronted him: "The parlor maid is slightly deaf. If doorbell is
+not answered at once, please step inside and ring the dinner bell on
+the hall table."
+
+This somehow required more courage than Appleton possessed, though he
+determined to look at the rooms on his next visit, so he stole down
+the path and went about his business, wondering why in the world he
+had done such a besotted thing as to take a walk among the furnished
+lodgings of the cathedral town of Wells.
+
+The summer waxed. He had nearly finished his book, and feeling the
+need of some peaceful retreat where he could do the last chapters and
+work up his sketches, he took the advice of an English friend and went
+down to Devonshire, intending to go from place to place until he found
+a hotel and surroundings to his mind.
+
+The very first one pleased his exacting taste, and he felt that the
+Bexley Sands Inn would be the very spot in which to write; comfortable
+within, a trifle too large, perhaps, and at week-ends too full of
+people, but clean, well-kept, and sunny.
+
+It was a Friday evening, and the number of guests who arrived on the
+last train from Torquay was rather disturbing. The dining-room service
+was not interfered with, but Appleton made up his mind to smoke his
+pipe in his own sitting-room and go down to the lounge later to read
+the papers, when the crowd might have dispersed. At nine o'clock,
+accordingly, he descended, and was preparing to settle himself with
+the last "Spectator" when the young lady in the office observed:
+"There's a very good concert going on in the drawing-room, sir, if you
+enjoy music. No admittance, you know; just a plate at the door as you
+leave--quite optional."
+
+Appleton bowed his thanks, filled his pipe, and taking up his
+newspaper with a sensation of comfortable idleness, was beginning an
+article on the situation in the Balkans, when a voice floated out from
+the distant drawing-room, down the long corridor, through the
+writing-room into the lounge. It was not a little voice nor a big
+voice, it seemed to have no extraordinarily high notes and no low
+ones, it did not arrest attention by the agility of its use; but it
+was as fresh and young as a bird's and sweeter than honey in the comb.
+It began by caroling "My Love's an Arbutus," went on to "The Little
+Red Lark" and "The Low-Backed Car," so that Appleton, his head thrown
+back in the easy-chair, the smoke wreaths from his pipe circling in
+the air, the Balkans forgotten, decided that the singer was Irish.
+
+"A pretty voice, sir," remarked the goddess of the hotel office. "I'm
+sorry so many of our guests are playing bowls this evening, and
+there's a bridge party of three tables in our first-floor private
+sitting-room, or the young lady would have had an audience. She seems
+a nice little thing, quite a stranger, with no experience."
+
+If the singer had even a small group of hearers, they were apparently
+delighted with "The Low-Backed Car," for with only a second's pause
+she gave "The Minstrel Boy." A certain individual quality of tone and
+spirit managed to bridge the distance between the drawing-room and
+lounge; or perhaps it was the piano accompaniment, so beautifully
+played that one could almost imagine it a harp; or was it that the
+words were so familiar to Appleton that every syllable was understood,
+so that the passion and fire of the old song suffered no loss?
+
+               "The minstrel fell, but the foeman's chain
+                 Could not bring that proud soul under!
+               The harp he loved ne'er spoke again,
+                 For he tore its chords asunder."
+
+"It's a pity her programme is so old-fashioned," said the young lady
+of the office, passing his chair to give an order to the page. "It's
+true only the elderly people went in, but our week-enders are very
+up-to-date in everything. There's a lot of Londoners here, and those
+from Torquay are frightfully musical. If they don't get Debewssy, it
+seems they think nothing of the programme."
+
+"Well, I confess that Debussy seems a trifle alien to this time and
+place," said Appleton, "and these old ballads suit my taste much
+better. I think I'll take a nearer view."
+
+He shoved his pipe into its case and strolled down the corridor,
+pausing behind the heavy velvet portières that shut off the
+drawing-room. There was no buzz of conversation going on, because
+there was not a sufficient number of persons to buzz. A very quiet,
+stodgy audience it was, with no friendly grouping; just a few old
+gentlemen here and a few old ladies there, sometimes with their
+prematurely aged and chastened paid companions by their sides. There
+were some girls of fifteen or sixteen, too, scattered about, a few of
+them accompanied by prim governesses.
+
+Appleton heard the entrance of some one from the anteroom beyond the
+grand piano, then a few chords, struck by hands that loved the ivory
+keys and evoked a reciprocal tenderness every time they touched them;
+then:
+
+                 "Near Woodstock Town in Oxfordshire
+                 As I walked forth to take the air,
+                 To view the fields and meadows round,
+                 Methought I heard a mournful sound."
+
+So the chronicle ran on until the crisis came:
+
+                  "The lady round the meadow ran,
+                  And gathered flowers as they sprang.
+                  Of every sort she there did pull
+                  Until she got her apron full."
+
+The history of the distracted lady's unhappy passion persevered:
+
+                 "The green ground served her as a bed,
+                 The flowers a pillow for her head.
+                 She laid her down and nothing spoke.
+                 Alas! for love her heart was broke."
+
+Appleton was at first too enchanted with the mischievous yet
+sympathetic rendition of this tragedy to do anything but listen. The
+voice, the speech, were so full of color and personality he forgot for
+the moment that there would be a face behind them; but there was an
+irresistible something in the line, "Until she got her apron full,"
+that forced him to peep behind the curtain just in time to catch the
+singer's smile.
+
+As this is not a story of plot, suspense, or mystery, there is no
+earthly use in denying that the lady in question was Miss Thomasina
+Tucker, nor any sense in affirming that her appearance in Fergus
+Appleton's hotel was in the nature of a dramatic coincidence, since
+Americans crossing the Atlantic on the same steamer are continually
+meeting in the British Isles and on the Continent.
+
+Appleton was pleased to see the girl again because he had always liked
+her face, and he was delighted to find that her voice not only
+harmonized with it, but increased its charm a hundredfold. Miss Tommy
+had several rather uncommon qualities in her equipment. One was that
+when she sang a high note she did it without exposing any of the
+avenues which led to her singing apparatus. She achieved her effects
+without pain to herself or to the observer, just flinging them off as
+gayly and irresponsibly as a bird on a bough, without showing any
+_modus operandi_. She had tenderness also, and fire, and a sense of
+humor which, while she never essayed a "comic" song, served her in
+good stead in certain old ballads with an irresistibly quaint twist in
+them. She made it perfectly clear that she was sorry for the poor lady
+who was running around the meadow preparing her flowery bier, but the
+conviction crept over you that she was secretly amused at the same
+time. Appleton heard the smile in her voice before he pulled aside the
+curtain and saw its counterpart on her face; heard and responded, for
+when Tommy tossed a smile at you, you caught it gratefully and tossed
+it back in the hope of getting a second and a third.
+
+Another arrow in Tommy's modest quiver was the establishment of an
+instantaneous intimacy between herself and her audience. The singing
+of her songs was precisely like the narration of so many stories, told
+so simply and directly that the most hardened critic would have his
+sting removed without being aware of it. He would know that Tommy
+hadn't a remarkable voice, but he would forget to mention it because
+space was limited. Sometimes he would say that she was an interpreter
+rather than a singer, and Tommy, for her part, was glad to be called
+anything, and grateful when she wasn't brutally arraigned for the
+microscopic size of her talent.
+
+It was Tommy's captivating friendliness and the quality of her smile
+that "did" for the shyest and stiffest of men, for by the time she had
+finished her programme the thunderbolt, the classic, the eternal
+thunderbolt, had fallen, and Fergus Appleton was in love. Tommy began
+her unconscious depredations with "Near Woodstock Town" and "Phillida
+Flouts Me," added fuel to the flames with "My Heart's in the
+Highlands" and "Charlie Is My Darling," and reduced his heart to ashes
+with "Allan Water" and "Has Sorrow Thy Young Days Shaded?" The smile
+began it, but it was tears that worked the final miracle, though
+moisture very rarely has this effect on fires of any sort.
+
+Tommy was tired and a bit disheartened; Appleton, the only responsive
+person in the audience, was seated in a far corner of the room,
+completely hidden behind a lady of formidable width and thickness, so
+the singer could not be expected to feel the tidal waves of
+appreciation he was sending toward her, although they ran so high at
+one moment that he could have risen to his feet and begged her to
+elope with him. The rest of her hearers sat heavily, stodgily in their
+seats without moving a muscle, mental, emotional, or physical. They
+had no private sitting-rooms, and they might as well be where they
+were as anywhere else; that was the idea they conveyed in every
+feature of their expressionless faces. An old gentleman in the front
+row left the room during the last song on the programme, and Appleton
+was beset by, and resisted, a vulgar temptation to put out his foot
+and trip him up in the doorway. When Tommy sang:
+
+                 "Has hope, like the bird in the story,
+                 That flitted from tree to tree
+                 With the talisman's glitt'ring glory,
+                 Has hope been that bird to thee?
+                 On branch after branch alighting,
+                 The gem did she still display,
+                 And when nearest and most inviting,
+                 Then waft the fair gem away."
+
+"Yes, yes, a thousand times yes," answered Fergus Appleton's heart,
+for the first time in his life conscious of loneliness, lack of
+purpose, lack of anchorage, lack of responsibilities, lack of
+everything he had never wanted before, but wanted desperately all at
+once, and quite independent of logic.
+
+He slipped out of the door and let the scattered units in the audience
+assemble, pass him, and drift down the corridor toward the office and
+lounge. To his astonishment and anger they dropped shillings on the
+plate, and the young people sixpences and, great Heavens! even
+pennies; one half-crown, the tacit apology of the old gentleman who
+had left early, was the only respectable offering. Appleton took out a
+sovereign, and then was afraid to put it in the collection for fear of
+exciting the singer's curiosity, so he rummaged his pockets for
+half-crowns and two-shilling pieces. Finding only two or three, he
+changed his mind and put back the gold-piece just in time to avoid the
+eye of the page, who came to take the offering back to Miss Tucker.
+Appleton twisted his mustache nervously, and walked slowly toward the
+anteroom with no definite idea in mind, save perhaps that she might
+issue from her retreat and recognize him as she passed. (As a matter
+of fact she had never once noticed him on the steamer, but the poor
+wretch was unconscious of that misfortune!) The page came out, putting
+something in his pocket, and left the door half open behind him.
+Appleton wheeled swiftly, feeling like a spy, but not until he had
+seen Miss Thomasina Tucker take a large copper coin from the plate,
+fling it across the room, bury the plate of silver upside down in a
+sofa cushion, and precipitate herself upon it with a little quivering
+wail of shame, or disappointment, or rage, he could hardly determine
+which.
+
+Appleton followed the unfeeling, unmusical, penurious old ladies and
+gentlemen back into the lounge, glaring at them as belligerently and
+offensively as a gentleman could and maintain his self-respect. Then
+he went into the waiting-room and embarked upon a positive orgy of
+letter-writing. Looking up from the last of his pile a half-hour
+later, he observed the young lady who was unconsciously preventing a
+proper flow of epistolary inspiration on his part, seated at a desk in
+the opposite corner. A pen was in her right hand, and in her left she
+held a tiny embroidered handkerchief, rather creased. Sometimes she
+bit the corner of it, sometimes she leaned her cheek upon it,
+sometimes she tapped the blotting-pad with the pen-handle, very much
+as if she had no particular interest in what she was doing, or else
+she was very doubtful about the wisdom of it.
+
+Presently she took some pennies from a small purse, and rising, took
+her letters with her with the evident intention of posting them.
+Appleton rose too, lifting his pile of correspondence, and followed
+close at her heels. She went to the office, laid down threepence, with
+her letters, turned, saw Fergus Appleton with the physical eye, but
+looked directly through him as if he were a man of glass and poor
+quality of glass at that, and sauntered upstairs as if she were
+greatly bored with life.
+
+However, the top letter of her three was addressed very plainly to the
+"Bishop of Bath and Wells," and Fergus Appleton had known the bishop,
+and the bishop's wife, for several years. Accordingly, the post-bag
+that night held two letters addressed to the Bishop's Palace, and
+there was every prospect of an immediate answer to one of them.
+
+
+IV
+
+
+As for the country roundabout the Bexley Sands Inn, it is one of the
+loveliest in Devonshire. It does not waste a moment, but, realizing
+the brevity of week-end visits and the anxiety of tourists to see the
+greatest amount of scenery in the shortest space, it begins its duty
+at the very door of the inn and goes straight on from one stretch of
+loveliness to another.
+
+If you have been there, you remember that if you turn to the right and
+go over the stone bridge that crosses the sleepy river, you are in the
+very heart of beauty. You pick your way daintily along the edge of the
+road, for it is carpeted so thickly with sea-pinks and yellow and
+crimson crow's-foot that you scarcely know where to step. Sea-poppies
+there are, too, groves of them, growing in the sandy stretches that
+lie close to and border the wide, shingly beach. In summer the long,
+low, narrow stone bridge crosses no water, but just here is an acre or
+two of tall green rushes. You walk down the bank a few steps and sit
+under the shadow of a wall. The green garden of rushes stretches in
+front of you, with a still, shallow pool between you and it, a pool
+floating with blossoming water-weeds. On the edge of the rushes grow
+tall yellow irises in great profusion; the cuckoo's note sounds in the
+distance; the sun, the warmth, the intoxication of color, make you
+drowsy, and you lean back among the green things, close your eyes, and
+then begin listening to the wonderful music of the rushes. A million
+million reeds stirred by the breeze bend to and fro, making a faint
+silken sound like that of a summer wave lapping the shore, but far
+more ethereal.
+
+Thomasina Tucker went down the road, laden with books, soon after
+breakfast Monday morning. Appleton waited until after the post came
+in, and having received much-desired letters and observed with joy the
+week-enders setting forth, hither and thither on their return
+journeys, followed what he supposed to be Miss Tucker's route; at
+least, it was her route on Saturday and Sunday, and he could not
+suppose her to harbor caprice or any other feminine weakness.
+
+Yes, there she was, in the very loveliest nook, the stone wall at her
+back, and in front nice sandy levels for books and papers and
+writing-pad.
+
+"Miss Tucker, may I invade your solitude for a moment? Our mutual
+friend, the Bishop of Bath and Wells, has written asking me to look
+you up as a fellow countryman and see if I can be of any service to
+you so far away from home."
+
+Tommy looked up, observed a good-looking American holding a letter in
+one hand and lifting a hat with the other, and bade him welcome.
+
+"How kind of the bishop! But he is always doing kind things; his wife,
+too. I have seen much of them since I came to England."
+
+"My name is Appleton, Fergus Appleton, at your service."
+
+"Won't you take a stone, or make yourself a hollow in the sand?" asked
+Tommy hospitably. "I came out here to read and study, and get rid of
+the week-enders. Isn't Bexley Sands a lovely spot, and do you ever get
+tired of the bacon and the kippered herring, and the fruit tarts with
+Devonshire cream?"
+
+"I can't bear to begin an acquaintance with a lady by differing on
+such vital points, but I do get tired of these Bexley delicacies."
+
+"Perhaps you have been here too long--or have you just come this
+morning?"
+
+Appleton swallowed his disappointment and hurt vanity, and remarked:
+"No, I came on Friday." (He laid some emphasis on Friday.)
+
+"The evening train is so incorrigibly slow! I only reached the hotel
+at ten o'clock when I arrived on Thursday night." Miss Tucker shot a
+rapid glance at the young man as she made this remark.
+
+"I came by the morning express and arrived here at three on Friday,"
+said Appleton.
+
+Miss Tucker, with a slight display of perhaps legitimate temper,
+turned suddenly upon him. "There! I have been trying for two minutes
+to find out when you came, and now I know you were at my beastly
+concert on Friday evening!"
+
+"I certainly was, and very grateful I am, too."
+
+"I suppose all through my life people will be turning up who were in
+that room!" said Miss Tucker ungraciously. "I must tell somebody what
+I feel about that concert! I should prefer some one who wasn't a
+stranger, but you are a great deal better than nobody. Do you mind?"
+
+Appleton laughed like a boy, and flung his hat a little distance into
+a patch of sea-pinks.
+
+"Not a bit. Use me, or abuse me, as you like, so long as you don't
+send me away, for this was my favorite spot before you chose it for
+yours."
+
+"I live in New York, and I came abroad early in the summer," began
+Tommy.
+
+"I know that already!" interrupted Appleton.
+
+"Oh, I suppose the bishop told you."
+
+"No, I came with you; that is, I was your fellow passenger."
+
+"Did you? Why, I never saw you on the boat."
+
+"My charms are not so dazzling that I expect them to be noted and
+remembered," laughed Appleton.
+
+"It is true I was very tired, and excited, and full of anxieties,"
+said Tommy meekly.
+
+"Don't apologize! If you tried for an hour, you couldn't guess just
+why I noticed and remembered _you_!"
+
+"I conclude then it was not for _my_ dazzling charms," Tommy answered
+saucily.
+
+"It was because you wore the only flower I ever notice, one that is
+associated with my earliest childhood. I never knew a woman to wear a
+bunch of mignonette before."
+
+"Some one sent it to me, I remember, and it had some hideous scarlet
+pinks in the middle. I put the pinks in my room and pinned on the
+mignonette because it matched my dress. I am very fond of green."
+
+"My mother loved mignonette. We always had beds of it in our garden
+and pots of it growing in the house in winter. I can smell it whenever
+I close my eyes."
+
+Tommy glanced at him. She felt something in his voice that she liked,
+something that attracted her and wakened an instantaneous response.
+
+"But go on," he said. "I only know as yet that you sailed from New
+York in the early summer, as I did."
+
+"Well, I went to London to join a great friend, a singer, Helena
+Markham. Have you heard of her?"
+
+"No; is she an American?"
+
+"Yes, a Western girl, from Montana, with oh! such a magnificent voice
+and such a big talent!" (The outward sweep of Tommy's hands took in
+the universe.) "We've had some heavenly weeks together. I play
+accompaniments, and--"
+
+"I know you do!"
+
+"I forgot for the moment how much too much you know! I went with her
+to Birmingham, and Manchester, and Leeds, and Liverpool. I wasn't
+really grand enough for her, but the audiences didn't notice me,
+Helena was so superb. In between I took some lessons of Henschel. He
+told me I hadn't much voice, but very nice brains. I am always called
+'intelligent,' and no one can imagine how I hate the word!"
+
+"It is offensive, but not so bad as some others. I, for example, have
+been called a 'conscientious writer'!"
+
+"Oh, are you a writer?"
+
+"Of a sort, yes. But, as you were saying--"
+
+"As I was saying, everything was going so beautifully until ten days
+ago, when Helena's people cabled her to come home. Her mother is
+seriously ill and cannot live more than a few months. She went at
+once, but I couldn't go with her--not very well, in midsummer--and so
+here I am, all alone, high and dry."
+
+She leaned her chin in the cup of her hand and, looking
+absent-mindedly at the shimmering rushes, fell into a spell of silence
+that took no account of Appleton.
+
+To tell the truth, he didn't mind looking at her unobserved for a
+moment or two. He had almost complete control of his senses, and he
+didn't believe she could be as pretty as he thought she was. There was
+no reason to think that she was better to look at than an out-and-out
+beauty. Her nose wasn't Greek. It was just a trifle faulty, but it was
+piquant and full of mischief. There was nothing to be said against her
+mouth or her eyelashes, which were beyond criticism, and he
+particularly liked the way her dark-brown hair grew round her temples
+and her ears--but the quality in her face that appealed most to
+Appleton was a soft and touching youthfulness.
+
+Suddenly she remembered herself, and began again:
+
+"Miss Markham and I had twice gone to large seaside hotels with great
+success, but, of course, she had a manager and a reputation. I thought
+I would try the same thing alone in some very quiet retreat, and see
+if it would do. Oh! wasn't it funny!" (Here she broke into a perfectly
+childlike fit of laughter.) "It was such a well-behaved, solemn little
+audience, that never gave me an inkling of its liking or its
+loathing."
+
+"Oh, yes, it did!" remonstrated Appleton. "They loved your Scotch
+songs."
+
+"Silently!" cried Tommy. "I had dozens and dozens of other things
+upstairs to sing to them, but I thought I was suiting my programme to
+the place and the people. I looked at them during luncheon and made my
+selections."
+
+"You are flattering the week-enders."
+
+"I believe you are musical," she ventured, looking up at him as she
+played with a tuft of sea-pinks.
+
+"I am passionately fond of singing, so I seldom go to concerts," he
+answered, somewhat enigmatically. "Your programme was an enchanting
+one to me."
+
+"It was good of its kind, if the audience would have helped me,"--and
+Tommy's lip trembled a little; "but perhaps I could have borne that,
+if it hadn't been for the--plate."
+
+"Not a pleasant custom, and a new one to me," said Appleton.
+
+"And to me!" (Here she made a little grimace of disgust.) "I knew
+beforehand I had to face the plate--but the contents! Where did you
+sit?"
+
+"I was forced to stay a trifle in the background, I entered so late.
+It was your 'Minstrel Boy' that dragged me out of my armchair in the
+lounge."
+
+"Then perhaps you saw the plate? I know by your face that you did! You
+saw the sixpences, which I shall never forget, and the pennies, which
+I will never forgive! I thirst for the blood of those who put in
+pennies!"
+
+"They would all have been sitting in boiling oil since Friday if I had
+had my way," responded Appleton.
+
+Tommy laughed delightedly. "I know now who put in the sovereign! I
+knew every face in that audience--that wasn't difficult in so small a
+one--and I tried and tried to fix the sovereign on any one of them,
+and couldn't. At last I determined that it was the old gentleman who
+went out in the middle of 'Allan Water,' feeling that he would rather
+pay anything than stay any longer. Confess! it _was_ you!"
+
+Appleton felt very sheepish as he met Tommy's dancing eyes and
+heightened color.
+
+"I couldn't bear to let you see those pennies," he stammered, "but I
+couldn't get them out before the page came to take the plate."
+
+"Perhaps you were 'pound foolish,' and the others were 'penny wise,'
+but it was awfully nice of you. If I can pay my bill here without
+spending that sovereign, I believe I'll keep it for a lucky piece. I
+shall be very rich by Saturday night, anyway."
+
+"A legacy due?"
+
+"Goodness, no! I haven't a relation in the world except one, who
+disapproves of me; not so much as I disapprove of him, however. No,
+Albert Spalding and Donald Tovey have engaged me for a concert in
+Torquay."
+
+"I have some business in Torquay which will keep me there for a few
+days on my way back to Wells," said Appleton nonchalantly. (The
+bishop's letter had been a pure and undefiled source of information on
+all points.)
+
+"Why, how funny! I hope you'll be there on Saturday. There'll be no
+plate! Tickets two and six to seven and six, but you shall be my
+guest, my sovereign guest. I am going to Wells myself to stay
+till--till I make up my mind about a few things."
+
+"America next?" inquired Appleton, keeping his voice as colorless as
+possible.
+
+"I don't know. Helena made me resign my church position in Brooklyn,
+and for the moment my 'career' is undecided."
+
+She laughed, but her eyes denied the mirth that her lips affirmed, and
+Appleton had such a sudden, illogical desire to meddle with her
+career, to help or hinder it, to have a hand in it at any rate, that
+he could hardly hold his tongue.
+
+"The Torquay concert will be charming, I hope. You know what
+Spalding's violin-playing is, and Donald Tovey is a young genius at
+piano-playing and composing. He is going to accompany me in some of
+his own songs, and he wants me to sing a group of American
+ones--Macdowell, Chadwick, Nevin, Mrs. Beach, and Margaret Lang."
+
+"I hope you'll accompany yourself in some of your own ballads!"
+
+"No, the occasion is too grand; unless they should happen to like me
+very much. Then I could play for myself, and sing 'Allan Water,' or
+'Believe Me,' or 'Early One Morning,' or 'Barbara Allen.'"
+
+(Appleton wondered if a claque of sizable, trustworthy boys could be
+secured in Torquay, and under his intelligent and inspired leadership
+carry Miss Thomasina Tucker like a cork on the wave of success.)
+
+"Wouldn't it be lunch-time?" asked Miss Tucker, after a slight pause.
+
+"It is always time for something when I'm particularly enjoying
+myself," grumbled Appleton, looking at his watch. "It's not quite one
+o'clock. Must we go in?"
+
+"Oh, yes; we've ten minutes' walk,"--and Tommy scrambled up and began
+to brush sand from her skirts.
+
+"Couldn't I sit at your table--under the chaperonage of the Bishop of
+Bath and Wells?" And Appleton got on his feet and collected Tommy's
+books.
+
+The girl's laugh was full-hearted this time. "Certainly not," she
+said. "What does Bexley Sands know of the bishop and his interest in
+us? But if you can find the drawing-room utterly deserted at any time,
+I'll sing for you."
+
+"How about a tea-basket and a walk to Gray Rocks at four o'clock?"
+asked Appleton as they strolled toward the hotel.
+
+"Charming! And I love singing out of doors without accompaniment. I'm
+determined to earn that sovereign in course of time! Are you from New
+England?"
+
+"Yes; and you?"
+
+"Oh, I'm from New York. I was born in a row of brown-stone fronts, in
+a numbered street, twenty-five or thirty houses to a block, all
+exactly alike. I wonder how I've outlived my start. And you?"
+
+"In the country, bless it,--in the eastern part of Massachusetts. We
+had a garden and my mother and I lived in it during all the months of
+my life that matter. That's where the mignonette grew."
+
+"'And He planted a garden eastward in Eden,'" quoted Tommy, half to
+herself.
+
+"It's the only Eden I ever knew! Do you like it over here, Miss
+Tucker, or are you homesick now that your friend is in America?"
+
+"Oh, I'm never homesick; for the reason that I have never had any home
+since I was ten years old, when I was left an orphan. I haven't any
+deep roots in New York; it's like the ocean, too big to love. I
+respect and admire the ocean, but I love a little river. You know the
+made-over aphorism: 'The home is where the hat is'? For 'hat' read
+'trunk,' and you have my case, precisely."
+
+"That's because you are absurdly, riotously young! It won't suit you
+forever."
+
+"Does anything suit one forever?" asked Tommy frivolously, not
+cynically, but making Appleton a trifle uncomfortable nevertheless.
+"Anything except singing, I mean? Perhaps you feel the same way about
+writing? You haven't told me anything about your work, and I've
+confided my past history, present prospects, and future aspirations to
+you!"
+
+"There's not so much to say. It is good work, and it is growing
+better. I studied architecture at the Beaux-Arts. I do art-criticism,
+and I write about buildings chiefly. That would seem rather dull to a
+warbler like you."
+
+"Not a bit. Doesn't somebody say that architecture is frozen music?"
+
+"I don't get as immediate response to my work as you do to yours."
+
+"No, but you never had sixpences and pennies put into your plate! Now
+give me my books, please. I'll go in at the upper gate alone, and run
+upstairs to my room. You enter by the lower one and go through the
+lounge, where the guests chiefly congregate waiting for the opening of
+the dining-room. Au revoir!"
+
+When Tommy opened her bedroom door she elevated her pretty,
+impertinent little nose and sniffed the air. It was laden with a
+delicate perfume that came from a huge bunch of mignonette on the
+table. It was long-stemmed, fresh, and moist, loosely bound together,
+and every one of its tiny brown blossoms was sending out fragrance
+into the room. It did not need Fergus Appleton's card to identify the
+giver, but there it was.
+
+"What a nice, kind, understanding person he is! And how cheerful it
+makes life to have somebody from your own country taking an interest
+in you, and liking your singing, and hating those beastly pennies!"
+And Tommy, quickly merging artist in woman, slipped on a coatee of
+dull-green crêpe over her old black taffeta, and taking down her hat
+with the garland of mignonette from the shelf in her closet, tucked
+some of the green sprays in her belt, and went down to luncheon. She
+didn't know where Fergus Appleton's table was, but she would make her
+seat face his. Then she could smile thanks at him over the
+mulligatawny soup, or the filet of sole, or the boiled mutton, or the
+apple tart. Even the Bishop of Bath and Wells couldn't object to
+that!
+
+
+V
+
+
+Their friendship grew perceptibly during the next two days, though
+constantly under the espionage of the permanent guests of the Bexley
+Sands Inn, but on Wednesday night Miss Tucker left for Torquay,
+according to schedule. Fergus Appleton remained behind, partly to make
+up arrears in his literary work, and partly as a sop to decency and
+common sense. He did not deem it either proper or dignified to escort
+the young lady on her journey (particularly as he had not been asked
+to do so), so he pined in solitary confinement at Bexley until
+Saturday morning, when he followed her to the scene of her labors.
+
+After due reflection he gave up the idea of the claque, and rested
+Tommy's case on the knees of the gods, where it transpired that it was
+much safer, for Torquay liked Tommy, and the concert went off with
+enormous éclat. From the moment that Miss Thomasina Tucker appeared on
+the platform the audience looked pleased. She wore a quaint dress of
+white flounced chiffon, with a girdle of green, and a broad white hat
+with her old mignonette garland made into two little nosegays perched
+on either side of the transparent brim. She could not wear the
+mignonette that Appleton had sent to her dressing-room, because she
+would have been obscured by the size of the offering, but she carried
+as much of it as her strength permitted, and laid the fragrant bouquet
+on the piano as she passed it. (A poem had come with it, but Tommy did
+not dare read it until the ordeal was over, for no one had ever
+written her a poem before. It had three long verses, and was signed
+"F.A."--that was all she had time to note.)
+
+A long-haired gentleman sitting beside Appleton remarked to his
+neighbor: "The girl looks like a flower; it's a pity she has such a
+heathenish name! Why didn't they call her Hope, or Flora, or Egeria,
+or Cecilia?"
+
+When the audience found that Miss Tucker's singing did not belie her
+charming appearance, they cast discretion to the winds and loved her.
+Appleton himself marveled at the beauty of her performance as it
+budded and bloomed under the inspiration of her fellow artists and the
+favor of the audience, and the more he admired the more depressed he
+became.
+
+"She may be on the threshold of a modest 'career,' of a sort, after
+all," he thought, "and she will never give it up for me. Would she be
+willing to combine me with the career, and how would it work? I
+shouldn't be churl enough to mind her singing now and then, but it
+seems to me I couldn't stand 'tours.' Besides, hers is such a
+childlike, winsome, fragrant little gift it ought not to be exploited
+like a great, booming talent!"
+
+The audience went wild over Donald Tovey's songs. He played, and Tommy
+sang them from memory, and it seemed as if they had been written then
+and there, struck off at white heat; as if the composer happened to be
+at the piano, and the singer chanced with his help to be interpreting
+those particular verses for that particular moment.
+
+His setting of "Jock o'Hazeldean" proved irresistible:
+
+                "They sought her baith by bower an ha';
+                   The ladie was not seen."
+
+And then with a swirl and a torrent of sound, a clangor of sword and a
+clatter of hoofs:
+
+                    "She's o'er the Border and awa'
+                         Wi' Jock o' Hazeldean."
+
+Appleton didn't see any valid reason why Tovey should kiss Tommy's
+hand in responding to the third recall, but supposed it must be a
+composer's privilege, and wished that he were one.
+
+Then the crowd made its way into the brilliant Torquay sunshine, and
+Appleton lingered in the streets until the time came for the tea-party
+arranged for the artists at the hotel.
+
+It was a gay little gathering, assisted by a charming lady of the
+town, who always knew the celebrated people who flock there in all
+seasons. Spalding and Tovey were the lions, but Miss Thomasina Tucker
+did not lack for compliments. Her cheeks glowed and her eyes sparkled
+under the white tulle brim of her hat. Her neck looked deliciously
+white and young, rising from its transparent chiffons, and her bunch
+of mignonette gave a note of delicate distinction. The long-haired
+gentleman was present, and turned out to be a local poet. He told Miss
+Tucker that she ought never to wear or to carry another flower. "Not,
+at all events, till you pass thirty!" he said. "You belong
+together--you, your songs, and the mignonette!"--at which she flung a
+shy upward glance at Appleton, saying: "It is this American friend who
+has really established the connection, though I have always worn green
+and white and always loved the flower."
+
+"You sent me some verses, Mr. Appleton," she said, as the poet moved
+away. "I have them safe" (and she touched her bodice), "but I haven't
+had a quiet moment to read them."
+
+"Just a little tribute," Appleton answered carelessly. "Are you
+leaving? If so, I'll get your flowers into a cab and drive you on."
+
+"No. I am going, quite unexpectedly, to Exeter to-night. Let us sit
+down in this corner a moment and I'll tell you. Mr. Tovey has asked me
+to substitute for a singer who is ill. The performance is on Monday
+and I chance to know the cantata. I shall not be paid, but it will be
+a fine audience and it may lead to something; after all, it's not out
+of my way in going to Wells."
+
+"Aren't you overtired to travel any more to-night?"
+
+"No, I am treading air! I have no sense of being in the body at all.
+Mrs. Cholmondeley, that dark-haired lady you were talking with a
+moment ago, lives in Exeter and will take me to her house. And how
+nice that I don't have to say good-bye, for you still mean to go to
+Wells?"
+
+"Oh, yes! I haven't nearly finished with the cathedral--I shall be
+there before you. Can I look up lodgings or do anything for you?"
+
+"Oh, no, thank you. I shall go to the old place where Miss Markham and
+I lived before. The bishop and Mrs. Kennion sent us there because
+there is a piano, and the old ladies, being deaf, don't mind musical
+lodgers. Didn't the concert go off beautifully! Such artists, those
+two men; so easy to do one's best in such company."
+
+"It was a triumph! Doesn't it completely efface the memory of the
+plate and the pennies?"
+
+"Yes," Tommy answered. "I bear no ill-will to any living creature. The
+only flaw is my horrid name. Can't you think of another for me? I've
+just had an anonymous note. Hear it!" (taking it from her glove):
+
+  DEAR MADAM:
+
+  The name of Thomasina Tucker is one of those bizarre
+  Americanisms that pain us so frequently in England. I fancy you
+  must have assumed it for public use, and if so, I beg you will
+  change it now, before you become too famous. The grotesque name
+  of Thomasina Tucker belittles your exquisite art.
+
+                                          Very truly yours,
+                                                 A WELL WISHER.
+
+"What do you think of that?"
+
+Appleton laughed heartily and scanned the note. "It is from some
+doddering old woman," he said. "The name given you by your sponsors in
+baptism to be condemned as a 'bizarre Americanism'!"
+
+"I cannot think why the loyalty of my dear mother and father to
+Tucker, and to Thomas, should have made them saddle me with such a
+handicap! They might have known I was going to sing, for I bawled
+incessantly from birth to the age of twelve months. I shall have to
+change my name, and you must help me to choose. Au revoir!"--and she
+darted away with a handshake and a friendly backward glance from the
+door.
+
+"Can I think of another name for her?" apostrophized Appleton to
+himself. "Can feminine unconsciousness and cruelty go farther than
+that? Another name for her shrieks from the very housetops, and I
+agree with 'Well Wisher' that she ought to take it before she becomes
+too famous; before it would be necessary, for instance, to describe
+her as Madame Tucker-Appleton!"
+
+
+VI
+
+
+These are the verses:
+
+                          TO MISS TOMMY TUCKER
+                      (WITH A BUNCH OF MIGNONETTE)
+
+                 A garden and a yellow wedge
+                    Of sunshine slipping through,
+                 And there, beside a bit of hedge,
+                    Forget-me-nots so blue,
+                 Bright four-o'clocks and spicy pinks,
+                    And sweet, old-fashioned roses,
+                 With daffodils and crocuses,
+                    And other fragrant posies,
+                 And in a corner, 'neath the shade
+                 By flowering apple branches made,
+                        Grew mignonette.
+
+                 I do not know, I cannot say,
+                    Why, when I hear you sing,
+                 Those by-gone days come back to me,
+                    And in their long train bring
+                 To mind that dear old garden, with
+                    Its hovering honey-bees,
+                 And liquid-throated songsters on
+                    The blossom-laden trees;
+                 Nor why a fragrance, fresh and rare,
+                 Should on a sudden fill the air,
+                        Of mignonette!
+
+                 Your mem'ry seems a garden fair
+                    Of old-time flowers of song.
+                 There Annie Laurie lives and loves,
+                    And Mary Morison,
+                 And Black-eyed Susan, Alice Grey,
+                    Phillida, with her frown--
+                 And Barbara Allen, false and fair,
+                    From famous Scarlet Town.
+                 What marvel such a garland rare
+                 Should breathe sweet odors on the air,
+                        Like mignonette?
+                                           F. A.
+
+
+VII
+
+
+There was never such a summer of enchanting weather as that particular
+summer in Wells. The whole population of Somersetshire, save those who
+had crops requiring rain, were in a heaven of delight from morning
+till night. Miss Tommy Tucker was very busy with some girl pupils, and
+as accompanist for oratorio practice; but there were blissful hours
+when she "studied" the cathedral with Fergus Appleton, watching him
+sketch the stately Central Tower, or the Lady Chapel, or the Chain
+Gate. There were afternoon walks to Tor Hill, winding up almost daily
+with tea at the palace, for the bishop and his wife were miracles of
+hospitality to the two Americans.
+
+Fergus Appleton had declared the state of his mind and heart to Mrs.
+Kennion a few days after his arrival, though after his confidence had
+been received she said that it was quite unnecessary, as she had
+guessed the entire situation the moment she saw them together.
+
+"If you do, it is more than Miss Tucker does," said Appleton, "for I
+can't flatter myself that she suspects in the least what I am about."
+
+"You haven't said anything yet?"
+
+"My dear Mrs. Kennion, I've known her less than a fortnight! It's bad
+enough for a man to fall in love in that absurd length of time, but I
+wouldn't ask a girl to marry me on two weeks' acquaintance. It would
+simply be courting refusal."
+
+"I am glad you feel that way about it, for we have grown greatly
+attached to Miss Tucker," said the bishop's wife. "She is so simple
+and unaffected, so lovable, and such good company! So alone in the
+world, yet so courageous and independent. I hope it will come out all
+right for your dear mother's son," she added affectionately, with a
+squeeze of her kind hand. "Miss Tucker is dining here to-morrow, and
+you must come, too, for she has offered to sing for our friends."
+
+Everybody agreed that Mrs. Kennion's party for the young American
+singer was a delightful and memorable occasion. She gave them song
+after song, accompanying herself on the Erard grand piano, at which
+she always made such a pretty picture. It drifted into a request
+programme, and Tommy, whose memory was inexhaustible, seemed always to
+have the wished-for song at the tip of her tongue, were it English,
+Scotch, Irish, or Welsh. There was general laughter and surprise when
+Madame Eriksson, a Norwegian lady who was among the guests, asked her
+for a certain song of Halfdan Kjerulf's.
+
+"I only know it in its English translation," Tommy said, "and I
+haven't sung it for a year, but I think I remember it. Forgive me if I
+halt in the words:
+
+                   "'I hardly know, my darling,
+                   What mostly took my heart,
+                   Unless perhaps your singing
+                   Has done the greater part.
+                   I've thrilled to many voices,
+                   The passionate, the strong,
+                   But I forgot the singer,
+                   And I forgot the song.
+                   But there's one song, my darling,
+                   That I can ne'er forget.
+                   I listened and I trembled,
+                   And felt my cheek was wet;
+                   It seemed my heart within me
+                   Gave answer clear and low
+                   When first I heard you sing, dear,
+                   Then first I loved you so!'"
+
+Tommy had sung the song hundreds of times in earlier years, and she
+had not the slightest self-consciousness when she began it; but just
+as she reached the last four lines her eyes met Fergus Appleton's. He
+was seated in a far corner of the room, leaning eagerly forward, with
+one arm on the back of a chair in front of him. She was singing the
+words to the company, but if ever a man was uttering and confirming
+them it was Fergus Appleton at that moment. The blindest woman could
+see, the deafest could hear, the avowal.
+
+Tommy caught her breath quickly, looked away, braced her memory, and
+finished, to the keen delight of old Madame Eriksson, who rose and
+kissed her on both cheeks.
+
+Tommy was glad that her part of the evening was over, and to cover her
+confusion offered to sing something of her own composing, the Mother
+Goose rhyme of "Little Tommy Tucker Sings for His Supper," arranged as
+an operatic recitative and aria. The humor of this performance
+penetrated even to the remotest fastnesses of the staid cathedral
+circle, and the palace party ended in something that positively
+resembled merriment, a consummation not always to be reached in
+gatherings exclusively clerical in character.
+
+The bishop's coachman always drove Miss Tucker home, and Appleton
+always walked to his lodgings, which were in the opposite direction,
+so nothing could be done that night, but he determined that another
+sun should not go down before he put his fate to the touch.
+
+How could he foresee what the morning post would bring and deposit,
+like an unwelcome bomb, upon his breakfast tray?
+
+His London publishers wanted to see him at once, not only on a
+multitude of details concerning his forthcoming book, but on a
+subject, as they hoped, of great interest and importance to him.
+
+Thinking it a matter of a day or so, Appleton scribbled notes to Mrs.
+Kennion and Miss Tucker, with whom he was to go on an excursion, and
+departed forthwith to London.
+
+Everything happened in London. The American publishers wanted a
+different title for the book and four more chapters to lengthen it to
+a size selling (at a profit) for two dollars and a half. The English
+publishers thought he had dealt rather slightingly with a certain very
+interesting period, and he remembered, guiltily, that he had been at
+Bexley Sands when he wrote the chapters in question. It would take
+three days' labor to fill up these gaps, he calculated, and how
+fortunate that Miss Thomasina Tucker was safely entrenched in the
+heart of an ecclesiastical stronghold for the next month or two; a
+town where he had not, so far as he knew, a single formidable rival.
+He wrote her regarding his unexpected engagements, adding with
+legitimate pride that one of England's foremost critics had offered to
+write a preface for his book; then he settled to his desk and slaved
+at his task until it was accomplished, when he departed with a beating
+heart for the town and county that held Miss Thomasina Tucker in their
+keeping.
+
+Alighting at the familiar railway station, he took a hansom, intending
+to drop his portmanteau at his lodgings and go on to the palace for
+news, but as he was driving by the deanery on the north side of
+Cathedral Green, he encountered Mrs. Kennion in her victoria. She
+signaled him with her hand and spoke to her coachman, who drew up his
+horses. Alighting from his hansom, he strode forward to take her
+welcoming hand, his face radiating the pleasure of a home-coming
+traveler.
+
+"If you'll let the cabman take your luggage, I'd like to drive you
+home myself. I have something to tell you," said Mrs. Kennion, making
+room for him by her side.
+
+"Nothing has happened, I hope?" he asked anxiously.
+
+"Miss Tucker is leaving for America to-morrow morning."
+
+"Going away?" Appleton's tone was one of positive dismay.
+
+"Yes. It is all very sudden and unexpected."
+
+"Sailing to-morrow?" exclaimed Appleton, taking out his watch. "From
+where? How can I get there?"
+
+"Not sailing to-morrow--leaving Wells to-morrow on an early train and
+sailing Saturday from Southampton."
+
+"Oh, the world is not lost entirely, then!"--and Appleton leaned back
+and wiped his forehead. "What has happened? I ought never to have gone
+to London."
+
+"She had a cable yesterday from her Brooklyn church, offering her a
+better position in the choir, but saying that they could hold it only
+ten days. By post on the same day she received a letter from a New
+York friend--"
+
+"Was it a Carl Bothwick?"
+
+"No; a Miss Macleod, who said that a much better position was in the
+market in a church where Miss Tucker had influential friends. She was
+sure that if Miss Tucker returned immediately to sing for the
+committee she could secure a thousand-dollar salary. We could do
+nothing but advise her to make the effort, you see."
+
+"Did she seem determined to go?"
+
+"No; she appeared a little undecided and timid. However, she said
+frankly that, though she had earned enough in England to pay her
+steamer passage to America, and a month's expenses afterward, she
+could not be certain of continuing to do so much through a London
+winter. 'If I only had a little more time to think it out,' she kept
+saying, 'but I haven't, so I must go!'"
+
+"Where is she now?"
+
+"At her lodgings. The bishop is detained in Bath and I am dining with
+friends in his stead. I thought you might go and take her to dinner at
+the Swan, so that she shouldn't be alone, and then bring her to the
+palace afterward--if--if all is well."
+
+"If I have any luck two churches will be lamenting her loss to-morrow
+morning," said Fergus gloomily; "but she wouldn't have consented to go
+if she cared anything about me!"
+
+"Nonsense, my dear boy! You were away. No self-respecting girl would
+wire you to come back. She was helpless even if she did care. Here we
+are! Shall I send a hansom back in half an hour?"
+
+"Twenty-five minutes will do it," Appleton answered briskly. "You are
+an angel, dear lady!"
+
+"Keep your blarney! I hope you'll need it all for somebody else
+to-night! Good fortune, dear boy!"
+
+
+VIII
+
+
+Appleton flung the contents of his portmanteau into his closet, rid
+himself of the dust of travel, made a quick change, and in less than
+forty minutes was at the door of Miss Tucker's lodgings.
+
+She had a little sitting-room on the first floor, and his loud
+rat-a-tat brought her to the door instead of the parlor-maid.
+
+At the unexpected sight of him she turned pale.
+
+"Why--why, I thought it was the luggage-man. Where did you come from?"
+she stammered.
+
+"From London, an hour ago. I met Mrs. Kennion on my way from the
+station."
+
+"Oh! Then she told you I am going home?"
+
+"Yes, she told me. How could you go to America without saying
+good-bye, Miss Tommy?"
+
+She flushed and looked perilously near tears.
+
+"I wrote to you this morning as soon as I had decided," she said. "I
+don't like to dart off in this way, you can imagine, but it's a
+question of must."
+
+He did not argue this with her; that was a bridge to be crossed when a
+better understanding had been reached; so, as if taking the journey as
+an inexorable fact, he said: "Come out and dine with me somewhere, and
+let us have a good talk."
+
+"I'm afraid I can't. I'm eating now on a tray in my sitting-room,"--and
+she waved a table napkin she was holding in her hand. "I am rather
+tired, and Miss Scattergood gave me some bacon and an egg from the nest."
+
+"Give the bacon to the cat and put back the egg in the nest," he said
+coaxingly. "Mrs. Kennion said: 'Don't let her eat her last dinner
+alone. Take her to the Swan.'"
+
+"Oh, I am only in my traveling-clothes and the Swan is full of
+strangers to-night."
+
+"The Green Dragon, then, near the cathedral. You look dressed for
+Buckingham Palace."
+
+She hesitated a moment, and then melted at the eagerness of his wish.
+"Well, then, if you'll wait five minutes."
+
+"Of course; I'll go along to the corner and whistle a hansom from the
+stand. Don't hurry!"
+
+The mental processes of Miss Thomasina Tucker had been very confused
+during the excitement of the last twenty-four hours.
+
+That she loved Fergus Appleton she was well aware since the arrival of
+the cablegram calling her back to America. Up to that time she had
+fenced with her love--parried it, pricked it, thrust it off, drawn it
+back, telling herself that she had plenty of time to meet the issue if
+it came. That Fergus Appleton loved her she was also fairly well
+convinced, but that fact did not always mean--everything--she told
+herself, with a pitiful little attempt at worldly wisdom. Perhaps he
+preferred his liberty to any woman; perhaps he did not want to settle
+down; perhaps he was engaged to some one whom he didn't care for now,
+but would have to marry; perhaps he hadn't money enough to share with
+a wife; perhaps he was a flirt--no, she would not admit that for an
+instant. Anyway, she was alone in the world, and the guardian of her
+own dignity. If she could have allowed matters to drift along in the
+heavenly uncertainty of these last days, there would have been no
+problem; but when she was forced to wake from her delicious dream and
+fly from everything that held her close and warm, fly during Fergus
+Appleton's absence, without his knowledge or consent--that indeed was
+heart-breaking. And still her pride showed her but the one course. She
+was alone in the world and without means save those earned by her own
+exertions. A living income was offered her in America and she must
+take it or leave it on the instant. She could not telegraph Fergus
+Appleton in London and acquaint him with her plans, as if they
+depended on him for solution; she could only write him a warm and
+friendly good-bye. If he loved her as much as a man ought who loved at
+all, he had time to follow her to Southampton before her ship sailed.
+If business kept him from such a hurried journey, he could ask her to
+marry him in a sixpenny wire, reply paid. If he neither came nor
+wired, but sent a box of mignonette to the steamer with his card and
+"Bon voyage" written on it, she would bury something unspeakably dear
+and precious that had only just been born--bury it, and plant
+mignonette over it. And she could always sing! Thank Heaven for the
+gift of song!
+
+This was Tommy's mood when she was packing her belongings, after
+hearing the bishop say that Appleton could not return till noon next
+day. It had changed a trifle by the time that Fergus had gone to the
+corner to whistle for a hansom. Her gray frieze jacket and skirt were
+right enough when she hastily slipped on a better blouse with a deep
+embroidered collar, pinned with Helena Markham's parting gift of an
+emerald clover-leaf. Her gray straw hat had a becoming band of flat
+green leaves, and she had a tinge of color. (Nothing better for roses
+in the cheeks than hurrying to be ready for the right man.) Anyway,
+such beauty as Tommy had was always there, and when she came to the
+door she smote Appleton's eyes as if she were "the first beam from the
+springing east."
+
+Once in the hansom, they talked gayly. They dared not stop, indeed,
+for when they kept on whipping the stream they forgot the depth of the
+waters underneath.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+Meantime the Green Dragon, competitor of the Swan, had great need of
+their lavish and interesting patronage.
+
+The Swiss head waiter, who was new to Wells, was a man of waxed
+mustaches and sleepless ambitions. The other hotels had most of the
+tourists, but he intended to retrieve the fortunes of his employer,
+and bring prosperity back to the side streets. He adored his vocation,
+and would have shed his heart's blood on the altar of any dining-room
+of which he had charge.
+
+There were nine tables placed about the large room, though not more
+than three had been occupied in his tenure of office; but all were
+beautifully set with flowers and bright silver and napkins in
+complicated foldings. Pasteboard cards with large black numbers from
+one to eight stood erect on eight of the tables, and on the ninth an
+imposing placard bore the sign:
+
+                                ENGAGED
+
+in letters two inches high, giving the idea that a hungry crowd was
+waiting to surge in and take the seats.
+
+The second man, trained within an inch of his life, had been already
+kindled by the enthusiasm of his superior, and shared his vigils.
+
+This very evening there had been hopes deferred and sickened hearts
+over the indifference of the public to a menu fit for a king. Were
+there not consommé royale, filet of sole, maître d'hôtel, poulet en
+casserole, pommes de terres sautés, haricots verts, and a wonderful
+Camembert? A savory could be inserted in an instant, and a sweet
+arranged in the twinkling of an eye.
+
+"A carriage, Walter! Prepare!"
+
+Both flew silently to the window.
+
+"Two ladies; ah, they are not alighting! They wish to know if there is
+evening service in the cathedral."
+
+"A gentleman, Walter! In a four-wheeler!"
+
+"No, he dines not. He has come to request his umbrella of the
+porter."
+
+"A hansom, Walter!"
+
+"Ah, they alight. She is of an elegance unmistakable. They are young
+married ones, and will dine well. Hasten, Walter, and order both sweet
+and savory!"
+
+Fergus and Tommy looked about the cozy room with pleasure as they
+entered, receiving the salute of Gustave and the English bow of Walter
+as tributes to their deep, unspoken hopes.
+
+"Where will you sit, Miss Tucker?" asked Appleton, and as he spoke his
+quick eye observed the "Engaged" placard, and with lightning dexterity
+he steered his guest toward that table. (There _was_ an opening, if
+you like!) Not quick enough for Tommy, though, for she had seen it and
+dropped into a seat several feet away, declaring its position was
+perfect. Gustave put menus before his distinguished clients with a
+flourish, and indicated the wine card as conspicuously as was
+consistent with good form. Then he paused and made mental notes of the
+situation.
+
+"Ah, very good, very good," murmured Appleton. "You might move the
+flowers, please; they rather hide--the view; and bring the soup,
+please."
+
+"Very young married ones!" thought Gustave, summoning his slave and
+retiring to a point where he could watch the wine card. Walter brought
+the consommé, and then busied himself at the other tables. They would
+never be occupied, but it was just as well to pretend, so he set
+hideous colored wine-glasses, red, green, and amber, at the various
+places, and polished them ostentatiously with a clean napkin in the
+hope that the gentleman would experience a desire for liquid
+refreshment.
+
+"This is very jolly, and very unexpected," said Appleton.
+
+"It is, indeed."
+
+"I hope you don't miss the nest-egg."
+
+"You mustn't call it a nest-egg! That's a stale thing, or a china one
+that they leave in, I don't know why--for an example, or a pattern, or
+a suggestion," said Tommy, laughing. "An egg from the nest is Miss
+Scattergood's phrase, and it means a new-laid one."
+
+"Oh, I see!--well, do you regret it?"
+
+"Certainly not, with this sumptuous repast just beginning!"
+
+"You always give me an appetite," exclaimed Appleton.
+
+"It's a humble function, but not one to be despised," Tommy answered
+mischievously, fencing, fencing every minute, with her heart beating
+against her ribs like a sledge-hammer.
+
+Walter brought the fish and solicitously freed the wine card that had
+somehow crept under a cover of knives and forks.
+
+"I beg ten thousand pardons. What will you drink, Miss Tucker? We must
+have a drop of something to cheer us at a farewell dinner. Here is a
+vintage champagne, a good honest wine that will hearten us up and
+leave no headache in its train."
+
+"I couldn't to-night, Mr. Appleton; I really couldn't."
+
+"Then I refuse to be exhilarated alone," said Fergus gallantly; "and
+you always have the effect of champagne on me anyway. I decline to say
+good-bye. I can't even believe it is 'au revoir' between us. We had
+such delightful days ahead, and so many plans."
+
+"Yes; it isn't nice to make up your mind so suddenly that it turns
+everything topsy-turvy," sighed Tommy--"I won't have any meat, thank
+you."
+
+Walter looked distinctly grieved. "I can recommend the
+pulley-ong-cazzerole, miss, and there's potatoes sortey with it."
+
+Tommy's appetite kindled at the sound of his accent, and she relented.
+"Yes, I'll have a small portion, please, after all."
+
+"When friends are together the world seems very small, and when they
+are separated it becomes a space too vast for human comprehension--I
+think I've heard that before, but it's true," said Appleton.
+
+"Yes," Tommy answered, for lack of anything better to say.
+
+"It seems as if we had known each other for years."
+
+"And it is less than three weeks," was Tommy's contribution to the
+lagging conversation.
+
+"The bishop offered me a letter of introduction to you when he wrote
+me at the Bexley Sands Inn, you remember, but he added in a postscript
+that in case of accident he was not to be held responsible. Rather
+cryptic, I thought--at the time."
+
+"A little Commonburg, sir?" asked Walter. "It is a very fine ripe one,
+and we have some fresh water-cress."
+
+"'Commonburg,' Miss Tucker? No? Then bring the coffee, please."
+
+A desperate silence fell between them, they who had talked unendingly
+for days and evenings!
+
+When Walter brought the tray with the coffee-pot and the two little
+cups, Appleton suddenly pushed his chair back, saying: "Let us take
+our coffee over by the window, shall we, and perhaps I may have a
+cigarette later? Don't light the gas, waiter--we want to see the hills
+and the afterglow."
+
+There was no avoiding it; Appleton and the waiter conveyed Tommy
+helplessly over to a table commanding the view and the sunset, and it
+was the one on which the huge "Engaged" placard reared itself
+persuasively and suggestively.
+
+"We shall need nothing more, waiter; you may go; I think this will
+cover the bill,"--and scorning the chair opposite Tommy, Appleton
+seated himself beside her.
+
+"You have turned your back to the afterglow," she said, as she reached
+forward to move "Engaged" to a position a trifle less obvious.
+
+"I don't care tuppence about the afterglow," and Appleton covered her
+hand with his own. "Make it come true, dear, dear Tommy! Make it come
+true!"
+
+"What?" she asked, between a smile and a tear.
+
+"The placard, dear, the placard! If you should travel the world over,
+you couldn't find a man who loves you as I do."
+
+"What would be the use in my traveling about to find another man when
+I am so satisfied with this one?" whispered Tommy. "Oh, remember! they
+may come back at any moment!"
+
+"I will, I will, if only I may have the comfort of holding your hand
+after all my miserable doubts! I never knew what companionship meant
+before I met you! I never really cared about life until now."
+
+"I have always cared about it, but never like this," confessed Tommy.
+"You see, I have always been alone, ever since I grew up."
+
+"And I! How wonderful of Fate to bring us together! And will you let
+me cable to the churches that you cannot come home just yet?"
+
+"You think I'd better not go--so soon?"
+
+"Without me? Never! You shall go anywhere you like, any time you like,
+so long as you take me with you. We'll settle all those things
+to-morrow--the blessedest day that ever dawned, that's what to-morrow
+will be! Couldn't you marry me to-morrow, Tommy?"
+
+"Certainly not! At any rate--not in the morning!" said Tommy
+mischievously, withdrawing her hand and moving out of the danger
+zone.
+
+"And you must remember that your talent is your own, to use as you
+like!" Appleton continued after a well-filled pause. "Your voice is a
+unique and precious gift. I'll try not to be selfish with it, or
+jealous of it, though if it had half the effect on other men that it
+has upon me, the floor would be strewn with broken hearts every time
+you sing!"--and he hummed under his breath:
+
+                      "I hardly know, my darling,
+                      What mostly took my heart,
+                      Unless perhaps your singing
+                      Has done the greater part."
+
+"Oh, you dear absurdity!" said Tommy, twinkling and sparkling
+enchantingly.--"I wish the waiter wouldn't come in every time I want
+to say something especially private!"
+
+"'Confound his politics, frustrate his knavish tricks,' but we shall
+soon be out of his reach, spinning along to the palace."
+
+"Are we going there? Oh! I shall be afraid to tell the bishop and Mrs.
+Kennion!"
+
+"You needn't be. I told Mrs. Kennion this afternoon that I loved you
+to distraction. If the bishop is back from Bath, she'll have passed on
+the information by now."
+
+"I was just going to say, when the waiter came so near, that it isn't
+the public I love, it's the singing! Just to sing and sing, that's
+what I long to do!"
+
+"And what you shall do, so help me! You know you wanted me to find a
+new name for you? Wasn't I clever to think of Appleton?"
+
+"Very! And you're kindly freeing me of half of my 'bizarre
+Americanism,' as my Torquay correspondent called it. How shall we deal
+with Thomasina?"
+
+"We'll call her Tommy. A darling, kissable little name, Tommy!--No,
+I'm not going to do anything!"
+
+"You don't think it's cowardly of me to marry you?"
+
+"Cowardly?"
+
+"Yes, when I haven't actually proved that I can earn my living; at
+least, I haven't done it long enough, or well enough, yet."
+
+"I think it's brave of you to marry me."
+
+"Brave?"
+
+"To turn your back on a possible career."
+
+"It's not the 'careering' that I love; though it will seem very
+strange when Tommy Tucker doesn't have to sing for her supper!--Shall
+we go? The waiter is coming in again. I believe he thinks we are going
+to run off with the spoons!"
+
+"So we are! At least, when we go, the spoons will go! I know it's a
+poor joke, but I am too happy to be brilliant. Call the head waiter,
+please,"--this to Walter, who despaired of ever getting rid of his
+guests, and was agreeably disappointed that a gentleman who had not
+ordered wine should ask for Gustave.
+
+Appleton took the "Engaged" placard off the table and used it
+nonchalantly as a fan in crossing the room. Then as he drew near the
+men he slipped two gold pieces into Tommy's hand.
+
+"May I carry away this placard, waiter?" he asked, as if it were quite
+a sane request. "I've taken a fancy to it as a souvenir of a most
+delightful and memorable dinner."
+
+"Assuredly, assuredly!" murmured Gustave. He knew that there was
+romance in the air, although he did not perceive the exact point of
+Appleton's request.
+
+"The young lady will reward you for your courtesy. No; I'll help with
+her jacket, thank you."
+
+Tommy, overcome with laughter and confusion and blushes, pressed the
+gold pieces into the hands of the astonished waiters, who bowed almost
+to the floor.
+
+"You are always giving me sovereigns, dear Fergus," she whispered with
+a laugh and something like a sob, as they drove along in the delicious
+nearness provided by the hansom.
+
+"Never mind," said Fergus. "You will be giving me one when you marry
+me!"
+
+
+
+
+THE TURNING-POINT
+
+
+Not far from the village of Bonny Eagle, on the west bank of the Saco,
+stood two little low-roofed farmhouses; the only two that had survived
+among others of the same kind that once dotted the green brink of the
+river.
+
+Long years before, in 1795 or thereabouts, there had been a cluster of
+log houses on this very spot, known then as the Dalton Right
+Settlement, and these in turn had been succeeded at a later date by
+the more comfortable frame-roof farmhouses of the period.
+
+In the old days, before the sound of the axe for the first time
+disturbed the stillness of the forest, the otter swam in the shadowy
+coves near the shore and the beaver built his huts near by. The red
+deer came down to dip his antlers and cool his flanks in the still
+shallows. The speckled grouse sat on her nest in the low pine boughs,
+while her mate perched on the mossy logs by the riverside unmolested.
+
+The Sokokis built their bark wigwams here and there on the bank,
+paddling their birch canoes over the river's smooth surface, or
+threading the foamy torrents farther down its course.
+
+Here was the wonderful spring that fed, and still feeds, Aunt Judy's
+Brook, the most turbulent little stream in the county. Many a moccasin
+track has been made in the soft earth around the never-failing
+fountain, and many the wooden bucket lowered into its crystal depths
+by the Dalton Righters when in their turn they possessed the land.
+
+The day of the Indian was over now, and the day of the farmer who
+succeeded him was over, too. The crash of the loom and the whir of the
+spinning-wheel were heard no longer, but Amanda Dalton,
+spinster,--descendant of the original Tristram Dalton, to whom the
+claim belonged,--sat on alone in her house, and not far away sat Caleb
+Kimball, sole living heir of the original Caleb, himself a Dalton
+Righter, and contemporary of Tristram Dalton.
+
+Neither of these personages took any interest in pedigree or
+genealogy. They knew that their ancestors had lived and died on the
+same acres now possessed by them, but the acres had dwindled sadly,
+and the ancestors had seemingly left little for which to be grateful.
+Indeed, in Caleb's case they had been a distinct disadvantage, since
+the local sense of humor, proverbially strong in York County, had
+always preserved a set of Kimball stories among its most cherished
+possessions. Some of them might have been forgotten in the century and
+a half that had elapsed, if the Caleb of our story had not been the
+inheritor of certain family traits famous in their day and
+generation.
+
+Caleb the first had been the "cuss" of his fellow farmers, because in
+coming from Scarboro to join the Dalton Righters he had brought
+whiteweed with the bundle of hay for his cattle when he was clearing
+the land. The soil of this particular region must have been especially
+greedy for, and adapted to, this obnoxious grass-killer, for it
+flourished as in no other part of the county; flourishes yet,
+indeed--though, if one can forget that its presence means poor feed
+for cattle where might be a crop of juicy hay, the blossoming fields
+of the old Dalton Settlement look, in early June, the loveliest, most
+ethereal, in New England. There, a million million feathery daisies
+sway and dance in the breeze, lifting their snowy wheels to the blue
+June sky. There they grow and thrive, the slender green stalks tossing
+their pearly disks among sister groves of buttercups till the eye is
+fairly dazzled with the symphony of white and gold. The back-aching
+farmers of the original Dalton Settlement had indeed tried to root out
+the lovely pests, but little did our Caleb care! If he had ever trod
+his ancestral acres either for pleasure or profit he might in time
+have "stomped out" the whiteweed, so the neighbors said, for he had
+the family foot, the size of an anvil; but he much preferred a
+sedentary life, and the whiteweed went on seeding itself from year to
+year.
+
+Caleb was tall, loose-jointed, and black as a thunder-cloud--the
+swarthy skin, like the big foot, having been bequeathed to him by the
+original Caleb, whose long-legged, shaggy-haired sons had been known
+as "Caleb's colts." Tall and black, all of them, the "colts," so black
+that the village wits said the Kimball children must have eaten smut
+and soot and drunk cinder tea during the years their parents were
+clearing the land. Tall and black also were all the Kimball daughters,
+so tall it was their boast to be able to look out over the tops of the
+window curtains; and proud enough of their height to cry with rage
+when any rival Amazon came into the neighborhood.
+
+Whatever else they were or were not, however, the Kimballs had always
+been industrious and frugal. It had remained for the last scion of the
+old stock to furnish a byword for slackness. In a village where
+stories of outlandish, ungodly, or supernatural laziness were sacredly
+preserved from year to year, Caleb Kimball's indolence easily took the
+palm. His hay commonly went to seed in the field. His cow yielded her
+morning's milk about noon, and her evening "mess" was taken from her
+(when she was lucky) by the light of a lantern. He was a bachelor of
+forty-five, dwelt alone, had no visitors and made his living, such as
+it was, off the farm, with the help of a rack-o'-bones horse. He had
+fifty acres of timber-land, and when his easy-going methods of farming
+found him without money he simply sold a few trees.
+
+The house and barn were gradually falling into ruins; the farm
+implements stood in the yard all winter, and the sleigh all summer.
+The gate flapped on its hinges, the fences were broken down, and the
+stone walls were full of gaps. His pipe, and a snarling rough-haired
+dog, were his only companions. Hour after hour he sat on the side
+steps looking across the sloping meadows that separated his place from
+Amanda Dalton's; hour after hour he puffed his pipe and gazed on the
+distant hills and the sparkling river; gazed and gazed--whether he saw
+anything or thought anything, remembered anything, or even dreamed
+anything, nobody could guess, not even Amanda Dalton, who was good at
+guessing, having very few other mental recreations to keep her
+mother-wit alive.
+
+Caleb Kimball, as seen on his doorstep from Amanda Dalton's sink
+window, was but a speck, to be sure, but he was her nearest neighbor;
+if a person whose threshold you never cross, and who never crosses
+yours, can be called a neighbor. There were seldom or never meetings
+or greetings between the two, yet each unconsciously was very much
+alive to the existence of the other. In days or evenings of solitude
+one can make neighbors of very curious things.
+
+The smoke of Amanda's morning fire cried "Shame" to Caleb's when it
+issued languidly from his kitchen chimney an hour later. Amanda's
+smoke was like herself, and betokened the brisk fire she would be
+likely to build; Caleb's showed wet wood, poor draught, a fallen brick
+in the chimney.
+
+Later on in the morning Caleb's dog would sometimes saunter down the
+road and have a brief conversation with Amanda's cat. They were
+neither friends nor enemies, but merely enlivened a deadly, dull
+existence with a few casual remarks on current topics.
+
+Once Caleb had possessed a flock of hens, but in the course of a few
+years they had dwindled to one lonely rooster, who stalked gloomily
+through the wilderness of misplaced objects in the Kimball yard, and
+wondered why he had been born.
+
+Amanda pitied him, and flung him a surreptitious handful of corn from
+her apron pocket when she met him walking dejectedly in the road
+halfway between the two houses. So encouraged he extended his rambles,
+and one afternoon Amanda, looking out of her window, saw him stop at
+her gate and hold a tête-à-tête with one of her Plymouth Rock hens.
+The interview was brief but effective. In a twinkling he had told her
+of his miserable life and his abject need of sympathy.
+
+"There are times," he said, "when, I give you my word, I would rather
+be stewed for dinner than lead my present existence! It is weak for me
+to trouble you with my difficulties, but you have always understood me
+from the first."
+
+"Say no more," she replied. "I am a woman and pity is akin to love.
+The fowls of Amanda Dalton's flock do not need me as you do. Eleven
+eggs a day are laid here regularly, and I will go where my egg will be
+a daily source of pleasure and profit."
+
+"The coop is draughty and the corn scarce," confessed the rooster,
+doing his best to be noble.
+
+"I am of the sex created especially to supply companionship," returned
+the hen, "therefore I will accompany you, regardless of personal
+inconvenience."
+
+Amanda saw the departure of the eloping couple and pursued them not.
+
+"Land sakes!" she exclaimed, "if any male thing hereabouts has sprawl
+enough to go courtin' I'm willin' to encourage 'em. She'll miss her
+clean house and good food, I guess, but I ain't sure. She's
+'women-folks' after all, and I shouldn't wonder a mite but she'd take
+real comfort in makin' things pleasanter up there for that pindlin',
+God-forsaken old rooster! She'll have her hands full, but there, I
+know what 'tis to get along with empty ones!"
+
+There were not many such romances or comedies as these to enliven
+Amanda's mornings. Then afternoon would slip into twilight, darkness
+would creep over the landscape, and Amanda's light--clear, steady,
+bright, serene--would gleam from its place on the sink shelf through
+the kitchen window, over the meadow, "up to Kimball's." It was such a
+light as would stream from a well-trimmed lamp with a crystal clean
+chimney, but it met with small response from its neighbor's light
+during many months of the year. In late autumn and winter there would
+be a fugitive candle gleam upstairs in the Kimball house, and on
+stormy evenings a dull, smoky light in the living-room.
+
+From the illumination in the Dalton sink window, Caleb thought Amanda
+sat in the kitchen evenings, but she didn't. She said she kept the
+second light there because she could afford it, and because the cat
+liked it. The cat enjoyed the black haircloth sofa in the
+sitting-room, afternoons, but she greatly preferred the kitchen for
+evening use; it made a change, and the high-backed cushioned rocker
+was then vacant. Amanda had nobody to consider but the cat, so she
+naturally deferred to her in every possible way. It was bad for the
+cat's character, but at least it kept Amanda from committing suicide,
+so what would you? Here was a woman of insistent, unflagging, unending
+activity. Amanda Dalton had energy enough to attend to a husband and
+six children--cook, wash, iron, churn, sew, nurse--and she lived alone
+with a cat. The village was a mile, and her nearest female neighbor,
+the Widow Thatcher, a half-mile away. She had buried her only sister
+in Lewiston years before, and she had not a relation in the world. All
+her irrepressible zeal went into the conduct of her house and plot of
+ground. Day after day, week after week, year after year, the
+established routine was carried through. First the washing of the
+breakfast dishes and the putting to rights of the kitchen, which was
+radiantly clean before she began upon it. Next her bedroom; the
+stirring-up of the cornhusk mattress, the shaking of the bed of live
+geese feathers, the replacing of cotton sheets, homespun blankets, and
+blue-and-white counterpane. Next came the sitting-room with its tall,
+red, flag-bottomed chairs, its two-leaved table, its light stand that
+held the Bible and work-basket and lamp. The chest of drawers and tall
+clock were piously dusted, and the frames of the Family Register,
+"Napoleon Crossing the Alps," and "Maidens Welcoming Washington in the
+Streets of Alexandria," were carefully wiped off. Once a week the
+parlor was cleaned, the tarlatan was lifted from the two plaster
+Samuels on the mantelpiece, their kneeling forms were cleaned with a
+damp cloth, the tarlatan replaced, and the parlor closed again
+reverently. There was kindling to chop, wood to bring in, the modest
+cooking, washing, ironing, and sewing to do, the flower-beds to weed,
+and the little vegetable garden to keep in order.
+
+But Amanda had a quick foot, a neat hand, a light touch, and a
+peculiar faculty of "turning off" work so that it simply would not
+last through the day. Why did she never think of going to the nearest
+city and linking her powers with those of some one who would put them
+to larger uses? Simply because no one ever did that sort of thing in
+Bonny Eagle in those days. Girls crowded out of home by poverty sought
+employment here and there, but that a woman of forty, with a good home
+and ten acres of land--to say nothing of coupon bonds that yielded a
+hundred dollars a year in cash--that such a one should seek a larger
+field in a strange place, would have been thought flying in the face
+of Providence, as well as custom.
+
+Outside Bonny Eagle, in the roar and din and clamor of cities, were
+all sorts of wrongs that needed righting, wounds that cried out to be
+healed. There were motherless children, there were helpless sufferers
+moaning for the sight of a green field, but the superfluous females of
+Amanda Dalton's day had not awakened to any sense of responsibility
+with regard to their unknown brothers and sisters.
+
+Amanda was a large-hearted woman. She would have shared her soda
+biscuit, her bean soup, her dandelion greens, her hogshead cheese, her
+boiled dinner, her custard pie, with any hungry mortal, but no one in
+Bonny Eagle needed bite nor sup. Therefore she feather-stitched her
+dish-towels, piled her kindling in a "wheel pattern" in the shed,
+named her hens and made friends of them, put fourteen tucks in her
+unbleached cotton petticoats, and fried a pancake every Saturday for
+her cat.
+
+"It's either that or blow your brains out, if you've got a busy mind!"
+she said grimly to Susan Benson, her best friend, who was passing a
+Saturday afternoon with her. It was chilly and they liked the cheerful
+warmth of the Saturday fire that was baking the beans and steaming the
+brown bread.
+
+Susan unrolled her patchwork and, giving a flip to the cat with her
+thimble finger, settled herself comfortably in the kitchen rocker.
+
+The cat leaped down and stalked into the next room with an air of
+offended majesty, as much as to say: "Of all the manners I ever saw,
+that woman has the worst! She contrives to pass by three empty chairs
+and choose the one I chance to be occupying!"
+
+"You wouldn't be so lonesome if you could see a bit of life from your
+house, Mandy," said Mrs. Benson. "William an' I were sayin' last night
+you'd ought to move into the village winters, though nothin' could be
+handsomer than the view from your sink window this minute. Daisies,
+daisies everywhere! How do you manage to keep 'em out o' your place,
+Mandy, when they're so thick on Caleb Kimball's?"
+
+"I just root an' root, an' keep on rootin'," Amanda responded
+cheerfully, "though I don't take a mite o' pride out of it, for the
+better my place looks the worse his does, by comparison."
+
+"It is a sight!" said Mrs. Benson, standing for a moment by the sink
+and looking up to Kimball's.
+
+"I went up there one night after dark, when I knew Caleb 'd gone to
+Hixam, an' I patched up some o' the holes in his stone wall, thinkin'
+his whiteweed seeds wouldn't blow through quite so thick!"--and Amanda
+joined Mrs. Benson at the window. "I'd 'a' done a day's work on his
+side o' the wall as lief as not, only I knew folks would talk if they
+saw me."
+
+"Land, no, they wouldn't, Mandy. Everybody knows you wouldn't take him
+if he was the last man on earth; an' as for Caleb, I guess he wouldn't
+marry any woman above ground, not if she was a seraphim. I used to
+think he'd spunk up some time or other, when he got over his mother's
+death; but it's too late now, I'm afraid."
+
+"Caleb set great store by his mother; that's one good thing about
+him," said Amanda.
+
+"He did for certain," agreed Mrs. Benson. "If that girl he was engaged
+to hadn't 'a' spoken disrespectful to her in his hearin' there'd 'a'
+been a wife an' children up there now an' the place would 'a' looked
+diff'rent."
+
+"Not so very diff'rent! He didn't lose much in Eliza Johnson. I guess
+he knows that by now!" remarked Amanda serenely; "though I s'pose 't
+was quarrelin' with her that set him runnin' down hill, all the
+same."
+
+"I never thought he cared anything about Eliza. She was determined to
+have him, an' he was too lazy to say no, but you see in the end she
+only got her labor for her pains. The Kimball boys never had any luck
+with their love affairs. When Caleb an' his mother was left alone, she
+was terrible anxious for him to marry. She was allers findin' girls
+for him, but part of 'em wouldn't look at him, and he wouldn't make up
+to any of 'em."
+
+"I was livin' in Lewiston those years," said Amanda.
+
+"I remember you was. Well, when old Mrs. Kimball broke her arm,
+Charles, the youngest son, that was a stage-driver, determined he'd
+get somebody for Caleb, for his own wife wouldn't lift her finger to
+help 'bout the house. He saw a girl up to Steep Falls that he kind o'
+liked the looks of, an' he offered her a ride down to his mother's to
+spend the day, thinkin' if the family liked her she might do for
+Caleb. However, her eyes was weak an' she didn't know how to milk, so
+they thought she'd better go home by train. That would 'a' been fair
+enough for both parties, but when Charles drove her to the station he
+charged her fifteen cents an' it made an awful sight o' talk. She had
+a hot temper, an' she kind o' resented it!"
+
+"I dare say 't wa'n't so," commented Amanda; "but everybody's dead
+that could deny it, except Caleb, and he wouldn't take the trouble."
+
+"It's one of the days when he's real drove, ain't it?" asked Susan
+sarcastically, as she looked across the field to the wood-pile where a
+gray-shirted figure sat motionless. "If ever a man needed a wife to
+patch the seat of his pants, it's Caleb Kimball! I guess it's the only
+part of his clothes he ever wears out. He wa'n't like that before his
+mother died; the wheels seemed to stop in him then an' there. He was
+queer an' strange an' shy, but I never used to think he'd develop into
+a reg'lar hermit. She'd turn in her grave, Mis' Kimball would, to see
+him look as he does. I don't s'pose he gets any proper nourishment.
+The smartest man in the world won't take the trouble to make pie for
+himself, yet he'll eat it 's long 's he can stan' up! Caleb's mother
+was a great pie-baker. I can see her now, shovelin' 'em in an' out o'
+the oven Saturdays, with her three great black lanky boys standin'
+roun' waitin' for 'em to cool off.--'Only _one_, mother?' Caleb used
+to say, kind o' wheedlin'ly, while she laughed up at him leanin'
+against the door-frame.--'What's one blueb'ry pie amongst me?'"
+
+"He must 'a' had some fun in him once," smiled Amanda.
+
+"They say women-folks ain't got no sense o' humor," remarked Mrs.
+Benson, with a twitch of her thread. "I notice the men that live
+_without_ 'em don't seem to have any! We may not amount to much, but
+we're somethin' to laugh _at_."
+
+"Why don't you bake him a pie now an' then, an' send it up, Susan?"
+asked Amanda.
+
+"Well, there, I don't feel I hardly know him well enough, though
+William does. I dare say he wouldn't like it, an' he'd never think to
+return the plate, so far away.--Besides, there never _is_ an extry pie
+in a house where there's a man an' three boys; which reminds me I've
+got to go home an' make one for breakfast, with nothin' to make it out
+of."
+
+"I could lend you a handful o' dried plums."
+
+"Thank you; I'll take 'em an' much obliged. I declare it seems to me,
+now the rhubarb's 'bout gone, as if the apples on the trees never
+would fill out enough to drop off. There does come a time in the early
+summer, after you're sick of mince, 'n' squash, 'n' punkin, 'n'
+cranberry, 'n' rhubarb, 'n' custard, 'n' 't ain't time for currant, or
+green apple, or strawb'ry, or raspb'ry, or blackb'ry--there does come
+a time when it seems as if Providence might 'a' had a little more
+ingenuity in plannin' pie-fillin'!--You might bake a pie for Caleb now
+an' then yourself, Mandy; you're so near."
+
+"Mrs. Thatcher lives half a mile away," replied Amanda; "but I
+couldn't carry Caleb Kimball a pie without her knowin' it an' makin'
+remarks. I'd bake one an' willin' if William 'd take it to him; but
+there, 't would only make him want another. He's made his bed an' he's
+got to lie on it."
+
+"He _lays_ on his bed sure enough, an' most o' the time probably--but
+do you believe he ever makes it?"
+
+Amanda shuddered. "I don't know, Susan; it's one o' the things that
+haunts me; whether he makes it or whether he don't."
+
+"Do you ever see any wash hung out?" Mrs. Benson's needle stopped in
+midair while she waited for Amanda's answer.
+
+"Ye-es; now an' then."
+
+"What kind?"
+
+"Sheets; once a gray blanket; underclothes; but naturally I don't look
+when they're hung out. He generally puts 'em on the grass, anyway."
+
+"Well, it's a sin for a man to live so in a Christian country, an' the
+kindest thing to say about him is that he's crazy. Some o' the men
+folks over to the store declare he is crazy; but William declares he
+ain't. He says he's asleep. William kind o' likes him. Does he ever
+pass the time o' day with you?"
+
+"Hardly ever. I meet him once or twice a year, maybe, in the road. He
+bows when I go past on an errand an' holds on to his dog when he tries
+to run out an' bite me."
+
+"That's real kind o' gentlemanly," observed Susan.
+
+"I never thought of it that way," said Amanda absently; "but perhaps
+it is. All I can say is, Caleb Kimball's a regular thorn in my flesh.
+I can't do anything for him, an' I can't forget him, right under foot
+as he is--his land joinin' mine. Mornin', noon, an' night for years
+I've wanted to get into that man's house an' make it decent for him;
+wanted to milk the cow the right time o' day; feed the horse; weed the
+garden; scrub the floor; wash the windows; black the stove."
+
+"How you do go on, Mandy!" exclaimed Mrs. Benson. "What diff'rence
+does it make to you how dirty he is, so long's you're clean?"
+
+"It does make a diff'rence, an' it always will. I hate to see the
+daisies growin' so thick, knowin' how he needs hay. I want to root 'em
+out same's I did mine, after I'd been away three years in Lewiston. I
+hate to take my pot o' beans out o' the oven Saturday nights an' know
+he ain't had gumption enough to get himself a Christian meal. Livin'
+alone 's I do, Susan, things 'bulk up' in my mind bigger'n they'd
+ought to."
+
+"They do so," agreed Susan; "an' you mustn't let 'em. You must come
+over to our house oftener. You know William loves to have you, an' so
+do the boys. The Bible may insinuate we are our brother's keeper, but
+we can't none of us help it if he won't _be_ kept!--There, I must be
+gettin' home. I've had considerable many reminders the last half-hour
+that it's about time! It's none o' my business, Mandy, but you do
+spoil that cat, an' the time's not far off when he won't be a mite o'
+comfort to you. Of course, I'm too intimate here to take offense, but
+if the minister should happen to set in this chair when he calls, an'
+see that cat promenade round an' round the rockers an' then rustle off
+into the settin'-room as mad as Cuffy, he'd certainly take notice an'
+think he wa'n't a welcome visitor."
+
+"Like mistress, like cat!" sighed Amanda. "Tristram an' I get awful
+set in our ways."
+
+"Kind o' queer, Mandy, namin' a cat for your grandfather," Mrs. Benson
+observed anxiously as she opened the door. "William an' me don't want
+you to get queer."
+
+"I ain't got anything better 'n a cat to name for grandfather," said
+poor Amanda, in a tone that set her friend Susan thinking as she
+walked homeward.
+
+The summer wore along and there came a certain Tuesday different from
+all the other Tuesdays in that year, or in all the forty years that
+had gone before--a Tuesday when the Kimball side door was not opened
+in the morning. No smoke issued from the chimney all day. The rooster
+and his kidnapped hen flew up from the steps and pecked at the door
+panels vigorously. Seven o'clock in the evening came, then eight, and
+no light to be seen anywhere. The dog howled; the horse neighed; the
+cow lowed ominously in the closed barn. At nine o'clock Amanda took a
+lantern and sped across the field, found a pail in the shed, slipped
+into the barn, milked the cow, gave the beasts hay and water, and
+leaving the pail of milk on the steps, went quietly home again,
+anxious lest she had done too much, anxious also lest she had not done
+enough.
+
+Next morning she stationed herself at her kitchen window and took
+account of her signs. The milk-pail was overturned on the steps, the
+rooster and hen perching on the rim, but there was no smoke coming
+from the chimney. She thought quickly as she did everything else. She
+waited long enough to make a cup of coffee, then she slipped out of
+her door and up to Kimball's. Her apron was full of kindling, and on
+her arm she carried a basket with a package of herbs, a tiny bottle of
+brandy, one of cologne, some arrowroot and matches, a cake of hard
+soap and a clean towel, bones for the dog and corn for the hen.
+
+Caleb's door was unlocked. The dog came out of the shed evincing no
+desire to bark or bite. The kitchen was empty, and--she thanked the
+Lord silently, as she gave a hasty glance about--not as dreadful as
+she had anticipated. Untidy beyond words, bare, dreary, cheerless, but
+not repulsively dirty. She stole softly through the lower part of the
+house, and then with a beating heart went up the uncarpeted stairs. At
+the head was an open door that showed her all she expected and feared
+to find. The sun streamed in at the dusty, uncurtained window over the
+motionless body of Caleb Kimball, who lay in a strange, deep sleep,
+unconscious, on the bed. His hair was raven black against the pillow
+and the lashes on his cheeks looked more 'n a yard long, Amanda told
+Susan Benson. (She afterward confessed that this was a slight
+exaggeration due to extreme excitement.) She spoke his name three
+times, but he did not stir. She must get the doctor and send for
+William Benson, that was clear; but first she must try her hand at
+improving the immediate situation.
+
+Stealing downstairs she tied on her apron and lighted a fire in the
+kitchen stove, with the view of making things respectable before
+gossipy neighbors came in. Her sister used to say that the minute
+Amanda tied on her apron things began to move and take a turn for the
+better, and it was so now. She poured a few drops of cologne into a
+basin of water, and putting the towel over her arm went upstairs to
+Caleb's bedside.
+
+"I've done him wrong," she thought remorsefully as she noted his
+decent night-clothing and bedding. "He ain't lost his self-respect in
+all these years, and every soul in Bonny Eagle thought he was living
+like an animal!"
+
+She bathed his face and throat and hands, then moistened and smoothed
+his hair without provoking a movement or a sound. He seemed in a
+profound stupor, but there was no stertorous breathing. Straightening
+the bedclothes and giving a hasty wipe to the tops of the pine bureau
+and table, she opened the window and closed the blinds. At this moment
+she spied one of the Thatcher boys going along the road, and ran down
+to the gate to ask him to send William Benson and the doctor as soon
+as possible.
+
+"Tell them Miss Dalton says please to come quick; Caleb Kimball's very
+sick," she said.
+
+"Don't you need mother, too?" asked the boy. "She's wanted to git into
+his house for years, and she'd do most anything for the chance."
+
+"No, thank you," said Amanda pitilessly. "I can do everything for the
+present, and Mr. Benson will probably want his wife, if anybody."
+
+"All right," said the boy as he started off on a dog-trot. News was
+rare in Bonny Eagle, and Caleb Kimball was a distinguished and
+interesting figure in village gossip.
+
+Amanda Dalton had never had to hurry in her life. That was one of her
+crosses, for there probably never was a woman who could do more in
+less time. It was an hour and a half before William Benson came, and
+in those ninety minutes she had swept the kitchen and poured a pail or
+two of hot soap-suds over the floor, that may have felt a mop, but
+certainly had not known a scrubbing-brush for years. She tore down the
+fly-specked, tattered, buff shades, and washed the three windows;
+blackened the stove; fed the dog and horse; milked the cow; strained
+the milk and carried it down cellar; making three trips upstairs in
+the meantime to find no change in the patient. His lids stayed down as
+though they were weighted with lead, his long arms lay motionless on
+the counterpane.
+
+Amanda's blood coursed through her veins like lightning. Here was work
+to her hand; blessed, healing work for days, perhaps weeks to come. In
+these first moments of emotional excitement I fear she hoped it would
+be a long case of helpless invalidism, during which it would be her
+Christian duty to clean the lower part of the house and perhaps make
+some impression on the shed; but this tempting thought was quickly
+banished as she reflected that Caleb Kimball was a bachelor, and the
+Widow Thatcher the person marked out by a just but unsympathetic
+Providence for sick-nurse and housekeeper.
+
+"She shan't come!" thought Amanda passionately. "I'll make the doctor
+ask me to take charge. William Benson shall stay here nights an' Susan
+will run in now an' then daytimes, or I'll get little Abby Thatcher to
+do the rough work an' keep me company; then her mother won't make
+talk."
+
+"I don't know exactly what's the matter with the man," confessed the
+doctor, when he came. "There's a mark and a swelling on the back of
+his head as if he might have fallen somewhere. He hasn't got any pulse
+and he's all skin and bone. He's starved out, I guess, and his
+machinery has just stopped. He wants nursing and feeding and all the
+things a woman can do for him. The Lord never intended men-folks to
+live alone!"
+
+"If they ain't got wit enough to find that out for themselves it ain't
+likely any woman'll take the trouble to tell 'em!" exclaimed Amanda
+with some spirit.
+
+"Don't get stuffy, Amanda! Just be a good Christian and take hold here
+for a few days till we see whether we've got to have a nurse from
+Portland. Man's extremity is God's opportunity; maybe Caleb'll come to
+his senses before he gets over this sickness."
+
+"I wonder if he ever had any senses?" said Amanda.
+
+"Plenty," the doctor answered as he prepared the medicines; "but he
+hasn't used them for twenty years.--I'll come back in an hour and
+fetch Bill Benson with me. Then I'll stay till I can bring Caleb back
+to consciousness. We shall have to get him downstairs as soon as he
+can be moved; it will be much easier to take care of him there."
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+The details of Caleb Kimball's illness would be such as fill a nurse's
+bedside record book. The mainspring of life had been snapped and the
+machinery refused to move for a long time. When he recovered
+consciousness his solemn black eyes followed Amanda Dalton's movements
+as if fascinated, but he spoke no word save a faltering phrase or two
+at night to William Benson.
+
+Meantime much had been happening below-stairs, where Amanda Dalton
+reigned supreme, with Susan Benson and Abby Thatcher taking turns in
+housework or nursing. William Benson was a painter by trade, and
+Amanda's ingenious idea was to persuade him to paint and paper the
+Kimball kitchen before Caleb was moved downstairs.
+
+This struck William as a most extraordinary and unnecessary
+performance.
+
+"Israel in Egypt!" he exclaimed. "What's the matter with you women? I
+never heard o' such goin's-on in my life! I might lay abed a thousand
+years an' nobody'd paint my premises. Let Caleb git his strength back
+an' then use a little elbow grease on his own house--you can't teach
+an old dog new tricks, Susan!"
+
+"'Pends on how old the dog is, an' what kind o' tricks you want to
+teach him," Susan replied. "It'd be a queer dog that wouldn't take to
+a clean kennel, or three good meals a day 'stead o' starvation
+vittles. Amanda says it may be a kind of a turnin'-point in Caleb's
+life, an' she thinks we'd ought to encourage him a little."
+
+"Ain't I encouragin' him by sleepin' on his settin'-room lounge every
+night an' givin' him medicine every two hours by the alarm clock? I've
+got my own day's work to do; when would I paint his kitchen, I'd like
+to know?"
+
+"We thought probably you'd like to do it nights," suggested his wife
+timidly.
+
+"Saul in Tarsus! Don't that beat the devil?" ejaculated William.
+"Caleb Kimball ain't done a good day's work for years, an' I'm to set
+up nights paintin' his kitchen!" Nevertheless the magnificent
+impertinence of the idea so paralyzed his will that he ended by
+putting on twelve single rolls of fawn-colored paper and painting the
+woodwork yellow to harmonize, working from eight to twelve several
+nights and swearing freely at his own foolishness.
+
+By this time Amanda had made the downstairs chamber all tidy and
+comfortable for the patient. She had contributed a window shade and
+dimity curtains; Susan a braided rug and a chair cushion. The chamber
+(the one in which Caleb's mother had died) opened from the kitchen and
+commanded an enticing view of the fresh yellow walls and shining
+cook-stove. On the day before Caleb's removal Amanda sat on the foot
+of the bed and looked through the doorway with silent joy, going to
+and fro to move a bright tin dipper into plainer view or retire a
+drying dish-cloth to greater privacy.
+
+Even Abby Thatcher was by this time a trifle exhilarated. She did not
+understand the situation very well, being of a sternly practical
+nature herself, but she caught the enthusiasm of the two women and
+scrubbed the kitchen floor faithfully every morning in order to remove
+the stains of years of neglect.
+
+"You wouldn't think your old hen 'd be such a fool, Miss Dalton," she
+said; "but I kind o' surmised the reason she's been missin', an' I
+found her to-day in a corner o' the haymow sittin' on five eggs. Now,
+wouldn't you s'pose at her age she'd know better than to try an' raise
+chickens in October?"
+
+"I'm afraid they'll die if it should be a cold fall, with nobody to
+look after 'em; but maybe I can take 'em home to my shed an' lend Mr.
+Kimball another hen." (Amanda's tone was motherly.) "I never like to
+break up a hen's nest, somehow; it seems as if they must have feelin's
+like other folks."
+
+"I'd take her off quicker'n scat, an' keep takin' her off, till she
+got some sense," said Abby, with the Chinese cruelty of sixteen.
+
+"Well, you let her be till Mr. Kimball gets well enough to ask; an' I
+think, Abby, you might clean up the dooryard just a little mite this
+mornin'," suggested Amanda. "If you could straighten up the fence an'
+find a couple of old hinges to hang the gate with, it would kind o'
+put new heart into Mr. Kimball when he's sittin' up an' lookin' out
+the window."
+
+"Why didn't he put heart into hisself by hangin' his _own_ gate,
+before he took sick?" grumbled Abby, reducing Amanda to momentary
+silence by her pitiless logic.
+
+"Why didn't he, indeed?" echoed her heart gloomily, receiving nothing
+in the way of answer from her limited experience of men.
+
+Caleb had spoken more frequently the last few days. When by the
+combined exertions of the Bensons and the doctor he had been brought
+down into his mother's old room, Amanda closed the kitchen door,
+thinking one experience at a time was enough for a man in his weak and
+exhausted condition. William Benson couldn't see any sense in this
+precaution, but he never did see much sense in what women-folks did.
+He wanted to show Caleb the new paint and paper immediately, and
+remark casually that he had done all the work while he was
+"night-nursin'."
+
+The next morning Amanda had seized a good opportunity to open the door
+between the two rooms, straightway retiring to the side entry to await
+developments. In a few moments she heard Caleb moving, and going in
+found him half sitting up in bed, leaning on his elbow.
+
+"What's the matter with the kitchen?" he asked feebly, staring with
+wide-open eyes at the unaccustomed prospect.
+
+"Only fresh paint an' paper; that's William's work."
+
+"O God, I ain't worth it! I ain't worth it!" he groaned as he hid his
+face in the pillow.
+
+"Have you been here all the time?" he asked Amanda when she brought
+him his gruel later in the day.
+
+"Yes, off an' on, when I could get away from my own work."
+
+"Who found me?"
+
+"I did. I knew by the looks somethin' was wrong up here."
+
+"Somethin' wrong, sure enough, an' always was!" Amanda heard him
+mutter as he turned his face to the wall.
+
+The next day he opened his eyes suddenly as she was passing through
+the room.
+
+"Did you make that pie William Benson brought me last month?"
+
+"What made you think I did?"
+
+"Oh, I don't know; it looked, an' it tasted like one o' yours," he
+said, closing his eyes again. "If you know a woman, you can tell her
+pie, somehow!"
+
+When had Caleb Kimball ever tasted any of her cooking? A mysterious
+remark, but everything he said sounded a trifle lightheaded.
+
+His questions came back to her when she was waiting for William Benson
+at twilight that same day.
+
+Caleb had been sleeping quietly for an hour or more. Amanda was
+standing at the stove stirring his arrowroot gruel. The kitchen was
+still.
+
+A smothered "_miaow_" and the scratching of claws on wood arrested her
+attention, and she went hurriedly to the door.
+
+"Tristram Dalton; what _are_ you up here for, away from your own
+home?" she exclaimed.
+
+Tristram vouchsafed no explanation of his appearance, but his demeanor
+spoke louder than words to Amanda's guilty conscience, as he walked
+in.
+
+"No shelter for me but the shed these days!" he seemed to say.
+"Instead of well-served meals, a cup of milk set here or there!"
+
+He made the circuit of the kitchen discontentedly and finding nothing
+to his taste went into the adjoining room, and after walking over the
+full length of Caleb's prostrate form curled himself up in a hollow at
+the foot of the bed.
+
+"I've neglected him!" thought Amanda; "but his turn'll come again soon
+enough," and she bent her eyes on the gruel.
+
+The blue bowl sat in the pan of hot water on the stove, and she
+stirred and stirred, slowly, regularly, continuously, in order that
+the arrowroot should be of a velvety smoothness.
+
+The days were drawing in, and the October sun was setting very yellow,
+sending a flood of light over her head and shoulders. She wore her
+afternoon dress of alpaca, with a worked muslin collar and cuffs and a
+white apron tied round her trim waist. She was one of your wholesome
+shining women and her bright brown hair glistened like satin.
+
+Caleb's black eyes looked yearningly at her as she stood there all
+unconscious, doing one of her innumerable neighborly kindnesses for
+him.
+
+She made a picture of sweet, strong, steady womanliness, although she
+did not know it. Caleb knew something extraordinary was going on
+inside of him, but under what impulse he was too puzzled and
+inexperienced to say.
+
+"Amanda."
+
+Amanda turned sharply at the sound of his voice as she was lifting the
+steaming arrowroot out of the water.
+
+"Whose cat is this?"
+
+"Mine.--Come off that bed, Tristram!"
+
+"Don't disturb him; I like to have him there.--Where's Abby
+Thatcher?"
+
+"She's gone home on an errand; she'll be back in fifteen minutes
+now."
+
+"Where's William?"
+
+"It's only five o'clock. He don't come till six. What can I get for
+you? Have you had a good sleep?"
+
+She set the gruel on the back of the stove and went in to his
+bedside.
+
+"I don't sleep much; I just lie an' think ... Amanda, ... now, they're
+all away, ... if I get over this spell, ... an' take a year to
+straighten up an' get hold o' things like other folks, ... do you
+think ... you'd risk ... marryin' me?"
+
+There was a moment's dead silence; then Amanda said, turning pale:
+"Are you in your right mind, Caleb Kimball?"
+
+"I am, but I don't wonder at your askin'," said the man humbly. "I've
+kind o' fancied you for years; but you've always been way down there
+across the fields, out o' reach!"
+
+"I'm too amazed to think it out," faltered Amanda.
+
+"Don't you think it out, for God's sake, or you'll never do it!" He
+caught at her hand as if it had been a life-line--her kind, smooth
+hand, the helpful hand with the bit of white cambric bound round a
+finger burned in his service.
+
+"It was the kitchen that put the courage into me," he went on
+feverishly. "I laid here an' thought: 'If she can make a house look so
+different in a week, what could she do with a man?'"
+
+"I ain't afraid but I could," stammered Amanda; "if the man would
+help--not hinder."
+
+"Just try me, Amanda. I wouldn't need a year--honest, I wouldn't--I
+could show you in three months!"
+
+Caleb's strength was waning now. His head dropped forward and Amanda
+caught it on her breast. She put one arm round his shoulders to keep
+him from falling back, while her other hand supported his head. His
+cheek was wet and as she felt the tears on her palm, mutely calling to
+her strength, all the woman in her gathered itself together and rushed
+to meet the man's need.
+
+"If only ... you could take me ... now ... right off," he faltered;
+"before anything happens ... to prevent? I'd be good to you ... till
+the day I die!"
+
+"I ain't afraid to risk it, Caleb," said Amanda. "I'll take you now
+when you need me the most. We'll just put our two forlorn houses
+together an' see if we can make 'em into a home!"
+
+Caleb gave one choking sob of content and gratitude. His hand relaxed
+its clasp of Amanda's; his head dropped and he fainted.
+
+William Benson came in just then.
+
+"What's the matter?" he cried, coming quickly toward the bed. "Has he
+had a spell? He was so much better last night I expected to see him
+settin' up!"
+
+"He'll come to in a minute," said Amanda. "Give me the palm-leaf fan.
+We're goin' to be married in a day or so, an' he got kind of excited
+talkin' it over."
+
+"Moses in the bulrushes!" ejaculated William Benson, sitting down
+heavily in the nearest chair.
+
+William Benson was not a sentimental or imaginative person, and he
+confessed he couldn't make head nor tail out o' the affair; said it
+was the queerest an' beatin'est weddin' that ever took place in Bonny
+Eagle; didn't know when they fixed it up, nor how, nor why, if you
+come to that. Amanda Dalton had never had a beau, but she was the
+likeliest woman in the village, spite o' that, an' Caleb Kimball was
+the onlikeliest man. Amanda was the smartest woman, an' Caleb the
+laziest man. He kind o' thought Amanda 'd married Caleb so 't she
+could clean house for him; but it seemed an awful high price to pay
+for a job. He guessed she couldn't bear to have his everlastin'
+whiteweed seedin' itself into her hayfield, an' the only way she could
+stop it was to marry him an' weed it out. He thought, too, that Caleb
+had kind o' got int' the habit o' watchin' Mandy flyin' about down to
+her place. There's nothin' so fascinatin' as to set still an' see
+other folks work. The critter was so busy, an' so diff'rent from him,
+mebbe it kind o' tantalized him.
+
+The Widow Thatcher was convinced that Mandy must have gone for Caleb
+hammer 'n' tongs when he was too weak to hold out against her. No
+woman in her sober senses would paper a man's kitchen for him unless
+she intended to get some use out of it herself. "We don't know what
+the disciples would 'a' done," she said, "nor the apostles, nor the
+saints, nor the archangels; we only know what women-folks would 'a'
+done, and there ain't one above ground that would 'a' cleaned Caleb
+Kimball's house without she expected to live in it."
+
+Susan Benson had a vague instinct with regard to the real facts of the
+case, but even she mustered up courage to ask Amanda once how the
+wonderful matter came about.
+
+Amanda looked at Mrs. Benson with some embarrassment, for she was not
+good at confidences.
+
+"Susan, you an' I've been brought up together, gone to school
+together, experienced religion an' joined the church together, an' I
+stood up with you an' William when you was married, so 't I'd speak
+out freer to you than I would to most."
+
+"I hope so, I'm sure."
+
+"Though I wouldn't want you to repeat anything, Susan."
+
+"'Tain't likely I would, Mandy."
+
+"Well, I'd no sooner got Caleb into a clean bed an' a clean room an'
+begun to feed him good food than I begun to like him. There's things
+in human hearts that I ain't wise enough to explain, Susan, an' I
+ain't goin' to try. Caleb Kimball seemed to me like a man that was
+drownin', all because there wa'n't anybody near to put a hand under
+his chin an' keep his head out o' water. I didn't suspicion he'd let
+me do it! I thought he'd just lie there an' drown, but it didn't turn
+out that way."
+
+"Well, it does kind o' seem as if you'd gone through the woods o' life
+to pick up a crooked stick at last," sighed Susan; "though I will say,
+now I've been under Caleb Kimball's roof, he's an awful sight nicer
+man close to than he is fur off. So, take it all in all, life an'
+men-folks bein' so uncertain, an' old age a-creepin' on first thing
+you know, perhaps it's for the best; an' I do hope you'll make out to
+be happy, Mandy."
+
+There was a quiver of real feeling in Susan Benson's voice, though she
+made no movement to touch her friend's hand.
+
+"I'm goin' to be happy!" said Amanda cheerfully. "I always did like
+plenty to do, an' now I've got it for the rest o' my life!"
+
+"I only hope you can stan' his ways, Amandy," and Susan's voice was
+still doubtful. "That's all I'm afraid of; that you're so diff'rent
+you can't never stan' his ways."
+
+"He won't have so many ways when we've been married a spell," said
+Amanda.
+
+
+
+
+HULDAH THE PROPHETESS
+
+
+                     "And they went unto Huldah the
+                   Prophetess and communed with her"
+
+Huldah Rumford leaned from her bedroom window as she finished plaiting
+her hair.
+
+The crowing of the white Brahma rooster had interrupted her toilet and
+she craned her neck impatiently until she discovered that he had come
+from the hen-yard in the rear and established himself on the
+doorsteps, from which dominating position he was announcing his
+message.
+
+"That means company coming, and I hope it's true," she said to
+herself, as she looked absent-mindedly in the old-fashioned looking
+glass, with its picture of Washington crossing the Delaware.
+
+Her thoughts were evidently wandering, for she took her petticoat from
+a hook in the closet and pulling it over her head found, when she
+searched for the buttons in the waistband, that she had it on
+wrong-side out.
+
+"I don't care!" she exclaimed, giving the unoffending garment an angry
+twitch, "but it does seem as if I was possessed! I can't keep my mind
+on my clothes long enough to get them on straight! I turned my
+petticoat yesterday, in spite of knowing it brings bad luck, but
+to-day I just won't take the chance."
+
+The pink calico morning dress went on without adventure. Then she
+carefully emptied the water from the wash-bowl into the jar, wiped it
+neatly and hung the towel to dry; straightened the photograph of her
+deceased father in its black-walnut frame; shook the feather bed and
+tightened a sagging cord under the cornhusk mattress; took the
+candlestick from the light-stand by her bedside and tripped down the
+attic stairs two at a time.
+
+Huldah was seventeen, which is a good thing; she was bewitchingly
+pretty, which is a better thing; and she was in love, which is
+probably the best thing of all, making due allowance, of course, for
+the occasions in which it is the worst possible thing that can happen
+to anybody.
+
+Mrs. Rumford was in the kitchen frying doughnuts for breakfast. She
+was a comfortable figure as she stood over the brimming "spider" with
+her three-pronged fork poised in the air. She turned the yellow rings
+in the hissing fat until they were nut-brown, then dropped them for a
+moment into a bowl of powdered sugar, from which they issued the most
+delicious conspirators against the human stomach that can be found in
+the catalogue of New England cookery.
+
+The table was neatly laid near the screen door that opened from the
+kitchen into the apple-orchard. A pan of buttermilk biscuits was
+sitting on the back of the stove, and half a custard pie, left from
+the previous night's supper, held the position of honor in front of
+Mrs. Rumford's seat. If the pie had been cereal, the doughnuts
+omelette, and the saleratus biscuits leavened bread, the plot and the
+course of this tale might have been different; but that is neither
+here nor there.
+
+"Did you hear the Brahma rooster crowing on the doorstep, mother?"
+asked Huldah.
+
+"No; but I ain't surprised, for I can't seem to keep my dish-cloth in
+my hand this morning; if I've dropped it once I've dropped it a dozen
+times: there's company coming, sure."
+
+"That rooster was crowin' on the fence last time I seen him, and he's
+up there ag'in now," said little Jimmy Rumford, with the most
+offensive skepticism.
+
+"What if he is?" asked his sister sharply. "That means fair weather,
+and don't interfere with the sign of company coming; it makes it all
+the more certain."
+
+"I bet he ain't crowin' about Pitt Packard," retorted Jimmy, with a
+large joy illuminating his sunburnt face. "Pitt ain't comin' home from
+Moderation this week; he's gone to work on the covered bridge up
+there."
+
+Huldah's face fell.
+
+"I'd ought to have known better than to turn my white skirt
+yesterday," she sighed. "I never knew it to fail bringing bad luck. I
+vow I'll never do it again."
+
+"That's one o' the signs I haven't got so much confidence in," said
+Mrs. Rumford, skimming the cream from a pan of milk into the churn and
+putting the skimmed milk on the table. "It don't come true with me
+more 'n three times out o' five, but there's others that never fails.
+You jest hold on, Huldy; the dish-cloth and the rooster knows as much
+'bout what's goin' to happen as your white petticoat does."
+
+"Jest about as much," interpolated Jimmy, with his utterance somewhat
+choked by hot doughnut.
+
+Huldah sat down at the table and made a pretense of eating something,
+but her heart was heavy within her.
+
+"What are you churning for on Friday, mother?" she asked.
+
+"Why, I told you I am looking for strangers. It ain't Pitt Packard
+only that I expect. Yesterday mornin' I swept a black mark on the
+floor; in the afternoon I found two o' the settin'-room chairs
+standin' back to back, and my right hand kep' itchin' all day, so't I
+knew I was goin' to shake hands with somebody."
+
+"You told me 't was the left hand," said Jimmy.
+
+"I never told you no such thing, Jimmy Rumford. Eat your breakfast,
+and don't contradict your mother, or I'll send you to bed quick 's you
+finish eatin'. Don't you tell me what I said nor what I didn't say,
+for I won't have it. Do you hear me?"
+
+"You did!" responded Jimmy obstinately, preparing to dodge under the
+table in case of sudden necessity. "You said your left hand itched,
+and it meant money comin', and you hoped Rube Hobson was goin' to pay
+you for the turkey he bought a year ago last Thanksgivin'-time, so
+there!"
+
+"So I did," said the widow reflectively. "Come to think of it, so I
+did; it must 'a' been a Wednesday my right hand kep' itchin' so."
+
+"And comp'ny didn't come a Wednesday neither," persevered Jimmy.
+
+"Jimmy Rumford, if you don't behave yourself and speak when you're
+spoken to, and not before, you'll git a trouncin' that you'll remember
+consid'able of a spell afterwards."
+
+"I'm ready for it!" replied the youngster, darting into the shed and
+peeping back into the kitchen with a malignant smile. "I dreamt o'
+Baldwin apples last night.
+
+                     'Dream fruit out o' season,
+                     That's anger without reason.'
+
+I knew when I got up you'd get mad with me the first thing this
+morning, and I'm all prepared--when you ketch me!"
+
+Both women gave a sigh of relief when the boy's flying figure
+disappeared around the corner of the barn. He was morally certain to
+be in mischief wherever he was, but if he was out of sight there was
+one point gained at least.
+
+"Why do you care so dreadfully whether Pitt comes or not?" asked Mrs.
+Rumford, now that quiet was restored, "If he don't come to-day, then
+he'll come a Sunday; and if he don't come this Sunday, then he'll come
+the next one, so what's the odds? You and him didn't have a fallin'
+out last time he was home, did you?"
+
+"Yes, if you must know it, we did."
+
+"Haven't you got any common sense, Huldy? Sakes alive! I thought when
+I married Daniel Rumford, if I could stand his temper it was nobody's
+business but my own. I didn't foresee that he had so much he could
+keep plenty for his own use, and then have a lot left to hand down to
+his children, so 't I should have to live in the house with it to the
+day of my death! Seems to me if I was a girl and lived in a village
+where men-folks is as scarce as they be here, I'd be turrible careful
+to keep holt of a beau after I'd got him. What in the name o' goodness
+did you quarrel about?"
+
+Huldah got up from the table and carried her plate and cup to the
+sink. She looked out of the window to conceal her embarrassment, and
+busied herself with preparations for the dish-washing, so that she
+could talk with greater freedom.
+
+"We've had words before this, plenty of times, but they didn't amount
+to anything. Pitt's good, and he's handsome, and he's smart; but he's
+awful dictatorial and fault-finding, and I just ain't goin' to eat too
+much humble-pie before I'm married, for fear I won't have anything
+else to eat afterwards, and it ain't very fattening for a steady diet.
+And if there ever was a hateful old woman in the world it's his
+stepmother. I've heard of her saying mean things about our family
+every once in a while, but I wouldn't tell you for fear you'd flare up
+and say Pitt couldn't come to see me. She's tried to set him against
+me ever since we began to keep company together. She's never quite
+managed to do it, but she's succeeded well enough to keep me in
+continual trouble."
+
+"What's she got to say?" inquired Mrs. Rumford hotly. "She never had a
+silk dress in the world, till Eben Packard married her, and everybody
+knows her father was a horse-doctor and mine was a reg'lar one!"
+
+"She didn't say anything about fathers, but she did tell Almira Berry
+that no member of the church in good standing could believe in signs
+as you did and have hope of salvation. She said I was a chip off the
+old block, and had been raised like a heathen. It seems when I was
+over there on Sunday I refused to stand up and have my height measured
+against the wall, and I told 'em if you measured heights on Sunday
+you'd like as not die before the year was out. I didn't know then she
+had such a prejudice against signs, but since that time I've dragged
+'em in every chance I got, just to spite her."
+
+"More fool you!" said her mother, beginning to move the dasher of the
+churn up and down with a steady motion. "You might have waited until
+she was your mother-in-law before you began to spite her. The first
+thing you know you won't get any mother-in-law."
+
+"That's the only thing that would console me for losing Pitt!"
+exclaimed Huldah. "If I can't marry him I don't have to live with her,
+that's one comfort! The last thing she did was to tell Aunt Hitty
+Tarbox she'd as lief have Pitt bring one of the original Salem witches
+into the house as one of the Daniel Rumford tribe."
+
+"The land sakes!" ejaculated the widow, giving a desperate and
+impassioned plunge to the churn-dasher. "Now I know why I dreamt of
+snakes and muddy water the night before she come here to the Ladies'
+Aid Club. Well, she's seventy, and she can't live forever; she can't
+take Eben Packard's money into the next world with her, either, and I
+guess if she could 't would melt as soon as it got there."
+
+Huldah persevered with her confession, dropping an occasional tear in
+the dishwater.
+
+"Last time Pitt came here he said he should have three or four days'
+vacation the 12th of August, and he thought we'd better get married
+then, if 't was agreeable to me. I was kind of shy, and the almanac
+was hanging alongside of the table, so I took it up and looked to see
+what day of the week the 12th fell on. 'Oh, Pitt,' I said, 'we can't
+be married on Friday; it's dreadful unlucky.' He began to scold then,
+and said I didn't care anything about him if I wouldn't marry him when
+it was most convenient; and I said I would if 't was any day but
+Friday; and he said that was all moonshine, and nobody but foolish old
+women believed in such nonsense; and I said there wasn't a girl in
+town that would marry him on a Friday; and he said there was; and I
+asked him to come right out and tell who he meant; and he said he
+didn't mean anybody in particular; and I said he did; and he said,
+well, Jennie Perkins would, on Friday or Sunday or wash-day or any
+other day; and I said if I was a man I vow I wouldn't take a girl that
+was so anxious as all that; and he said he'd rather take one that was
+a little too anxious than one that wasn't anxious enough; and so we
+had it, back and forth, till I got so mad I couldn't see the almanac.
+Then, just to show him I had more good reasons than one, I said,
+'Besides, if we should be married on a Friday we'd have to go away on
+a Saturday, and ten to one 't would rain on our wedding-trip.'
+
+"'Why would it rain Saturday more than any other day?' said he; and
+then I mistrusted I was getting into fresh trouble, but I was too mad
+to back out, and said I, 'They say it rains more Saturdays in the year
+than any other day'; and he got red in the face and said, 'Where'd you
+get that silly notion?' Then I said it wasn't any silly notion, it was
+Gospel truth, and anybody that took notice of anything knew it was so;
+and he said he never heard of it in his life; and I said there was
+considerable many things that he'd never heard of that he'd be all the
+better for knowing; and he said he was like Josh Billings, he'd rather
+know a few things well than know so many things that wa'n't so."
+
+"You might have told him how we compared notes about rainy days at the
+Aid Club," said her mother. "You remember Hannah Sophia Palmer hadn't
+noticed it, but the minute you mentioned it she remembered how, when
+she was a child, she was always worryin' for fear she couldn't wear
+her new hat a Sunday, and it must have been because it was threatening
+weather a Saturday, and she was afraid it would keep up for Sunday.
+And the widow Buzzell said she always picked up her apples for
+pie-baking on Friday, it was so apt to be dull or wet on a Saturday."
+
+"I told him all of that," continued Huldah, "and how old Mrs. Bascom
+said they had a literary society over to Edgewood that used to meet
+twice a month on Saturday afternoons, and it rained or snowed so often
+they had to change their meetings to a Wednesday.
+
+"Then the first thing I knew Pitt stood up so straight he looked more
+than ten feet tall, and says he, 'If you don't marry me a Friday,
+Huldah Rumford, you don't marry me at all. You're nothing but a mass
+of superstition, and if you're so scared for fear it will rain on your
+wedding-bonnet a Saturday, you can stay home under cover the rest of
+your life, for all I care. I'll wash the top buggy, put the umbrella
+under the seat, and take Jennie Perkins; she won't be afraid of a
+wetting so long as she gets it in good company.'
+
+"'You're right,' I said, 'she won't, especially if the company's a
+man, for she'll be so dumfounded at getting one of 'em to sit beside
+her she won't notice if it rains pitchforks, and so far as I'm
+concerned she's welcome to my leavings.' Then he went out and slammed
+the kitchen door after him, but not so quick that I didn't get a good
+slam on the sitting-room door first."
+
+"He'll come back," churned Mrs. Rumford philosophically. "Jennie
+Perkins has got a pug nose, and a good-sized mole on one side of it. A
+mole on the nose is a sure sign of bad luck in love-affairs,
+particularly if it's well to one side. He'll come back."
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+But, as a matter of fact, the days went by, the maple-trees turned
+red, and Pitt Packard did not come back to the Rumford farm. His
+comings and his goings were all known to Huldah. She knew that he took
+Jennie Perkins to the Sunday-School picnic, and escorted her home from
+evening meetings. She knew that old Mrs. Packard had given her a
+garnet pin, a glass handkerchief-box, and a wreath of hair flowers
+made from the intertwined tresses of the Packards and the Doolittles.
+If these symptoms could by any possibility be misinterpreted, there
+were various other details of an alarmingly corroborative character,
+culminating in the marriage of Pitt to Jennie on a certain Friday
+evening at eight o'clock. He not only married her on a Friday, but he
+drove her to Portland on a Saturday morning; and the Fates, who are
+never above taking a little extra trouble when they are dealing out
+misery, decreed that it should be one of the freshest, brightest, most
+golden mornings of the early autumn.
+
+Pitt thought Portland preferable to Biddeford or Saco as a place to
+pass the brief honeymoon, if for no other reason than because the road
+thither lay past the Rumford house. But the Rumfords' blinds were
+tightly closed on the eventful Saturday, and an unnecessarily large
+placard hung ostentatiously on the front gate, announcing to
+passers-by that the family had gone to Old Orchard Beach, and would be
+home at sundown. This was a bitter blow to the bridegroom, for he had
+put down the back of the buggy with the intention of kissing the bride
+within full view of the Rumford windows. When he found it was of no
+use, he abandoned the idea, as the operation never afforded him any
+especial pleasure. He asked Mrs. Pitt if she preferred to go to the
+beach for her trip, but she decidedly favored the gayeties of a
+metropolis.
+
+The excitement of passing the Rumford house having faded, Jennie's
+nose became so oppressive to Pitt that he finally changed places with
+her, explaining that he generally drove on the left side. He was more
+tranquil then, for her left profile was more pleasing, though for the
+life of him he could not help remembering Huldah's sweet outlines, the
+dimple in her chin, her kissable mouth, her delicate ear. Why, oh,
+why, had she inherited her father's temper and her mother's gift of
+prophecy, to say nothing of her grandfather's obstinacy and her
+grandmother's nimble tongue! All at once it dawned upon him that he
+might have jilted Huldah without marrying Jennie. It would, it is
+true, have been only a half revenge; but his appetite for revenge was
+so dulled by satisfaction he thought he could have been perfectly
+comfortable with half the quantity, even if Huldah were not quite so
+uncomfortable as he wished her to be. He dismissed these base and
+disloyal sentiments, however, as bravely as he could, and kissed
+Jennie twice, in a little stretch of wood road that fell in
+opportunely with his mood of silent penitence.
+
+About two o'clock clouds began to gather in the sky, and there was a
+muttering of thunder. Pitt endured all the signs of a shower with such
+fortitude as he could command, and did not put up the buggy-top or
+unstrap the boot until the rain came down in good earnest.
+
+"Who'd have suspicioned this kind of weather?" he growled as he got
+the last strap into place and shook the water from his new straw hat.
+
+"I was afraid of it, but I didn't like to speak out," said Jennie
+primly; "they say it gen'ally does rain Saturdays."
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+Meanwhile Huldah lay in the spare room at the back of the house and
+sobbed quietly. Mrs. Rumford and the skeptical Jimmy had gone to Old
+Orchard, and Huldah had slipped out of the front door, tacked the
+obtrusive placard on the gate-post, and closed all the blinds in honor
+of the buried hopes that lay like a dead weight at the bottom of her
+heart.
+
+She was a silly little thing, a vain little thing, and a spitfire to
+boot, but that did not prevent her suffering an appreciable amount,
+all that her nature would allow; and if it was not as much as a larger
+nature would have suffered, neither had she much philosophy or
+strength to bear it. The burden is fitted to the back as often as the
+back to the burden.
+
+She frequently declared to herself afterwards that she should have had
+"a fit of sickness" if it had not been for the thunderstorm that came
+up on that never-to-be-forgotten Saturday afternoon. She had waked
+that morning with a dull pain in her heart--a dull pain that had grown
+keener when she looked from her attic window and saw the sun shining
+clear in the sky. Not a cloud sullied the surface of that fair blue
+canopy on this day of the faithless Pitt's wedding-journey. A sweet
+wind blew the tail feathers of the golden cock on the squire's barn
+till he stared the west directly in the eye. What a day to drive to
+Portland! She would have worn tan-colored low shoes and brown openwork
+stockings (what ugly feet Jennie Perkins had!), a buff challie dress
+with little brown autumn leaves on it, a belt and sash of brown
+watered ribbon (Jennie had a waist like a flour-barrel!), and a sailor
+hat with a bunch of yellow roses on one side--or would two brown
+quills, standing up coquettishly, have been more attractive? Then she
+would have taken a brown cloth shoulder-cape, trimmed with rows upon
+rows of cream-colored lace, and a brown parasol with an acorn of
+polished wood on the handle. Oh, what was the use of living when she
+could wear none of this bridal apparel, but must put on her old pink
+calico and go down to meet Jimmy's brotherly sneers? Was there ever
+such a cruelly sunshiny morning? A spot of flickering light danced and
+quivered on her blue wallpaper until she could bear it no longer, and
+pinned a towel over it. She sat down by the open window and leaned
+dejectedly on the sill, the prettiest picture of spiteful, unnecessary
+misery that the eye of mortal man ever rested upon, with her bright
+hair tumbling over her unbleached nightgown, and her little bare feet
+curled about the chair-rounds like those of a disconsolate child.
+Nobody could have approved of, or even sympathized with, so trivial a
+creature, but plenty of people would have been so sorry for her that
+they would have taken sensible, conscientious, unattractive Jennie
+Perkins out of Pitt Packard's buggy and substituted the heedless
+little Huldah, just for the pleasure of seeing her smile and blush.
+There was, however, no guardian imp to look after her ruined fortunes,
+and she went downstairs as usual to help about the breakfast,
+wondering to herself if there were any tragedies in life too terrible
+to be coexistent with three meals a day and the dishes washed after
+each one of them.
+
+An infant hope stirred in her heart when she saw a red sparkle here
+and there on the sooty bottom of the tea-kettle, and it grew a little
+when her mother remarked that the dishwater boiled away so fast and
+the cows lay down so much that she believed it would rain the next
+day. When, that same afternoon, the welcome shower came with scarce
+ten minutes' warning, Huldah could hardly believe her eyes and ears.
+She jumped from her couch of anguish and remorse like an excited
+kitten, darted out of the house unmindful of the lightning, drove the
+Jersey calf under cover, chased the chickens into the coop, bolstered
+up the tomatoes so that the wind and rain would not blow the fruit
+from the heavily laden plants, opened the blinds and closed the
+windows.
+
+"It comes from the east," she cried, dancing up and down in a glow of
+childish glee--"it comes from the east, and it's blowing in on
+Jennie's side of the buggy!" She did not know that Pitt had changed
+places with his bride, and that his broad shoulder was shielding her
+from the "angry airt."
+
+Then she flew into the kitchen and pinned up her blown hair in front
+of the cracked looking-glass, thinking with sympathetic tenderness how
+pretty she looked, with her crown of chestnut tendrils tightened by
+the dampness, her round young cheeks crimsoned by the wind, and her
+still tearful eyes brightened by unchristian joy. She remembered with
+naughty satisfaction how rain invariably straightened Jennie Perkins's
+frizzes, and was glad, _glad_ that it did. Her angry passions were so
+beautifying that the radiant vision in the glass almost dazzled her.
+It made her very sorry for Pitt too. She hated to think that his
+ill-temper and stubborn pride and obstinacy had lost him such a lovely
+creature as herself, and had forced him to waste his charms on so
+unappreciative and plain a person as Jennie Perkins. She remembered
+that Pitt had asked her to marry him coming home from the fair in a
+rainstorm. If he meant anything he said on that occasion, he must be
+suffering pangs of regret to-day. Oh, how good, how sweet, how kind of
+it to rain and support her in what she had prophesied of Saturday
+weather!
+
+All at once a healing thought popped into her head. "I shall not live
+many years," she reflected--"not after losing Pitt, and having his
+mother crow over me, and that hateful Jennie Perkins, having the
+family hair wreath hanging over her sofa, and my wedding ring on her
+hand; but so long as I live I will keep account of rainy Saturdays,
+and find a way to send the record to Pitt every New Year's Day just to
+prove that I was right. Then I shall die young, and perhaps he will
+plant something on my grave, and water it with his tears; and perhaps
+he will put up a marble gravestone over me, unbeknownst to Jennie, and
+have an appropriate verse of Scripture carved on it, something like:
+
+                she openeth her mouth with wisdom;
+                and in her tongue is the law of kindness
+
+I can see it as plain as if it was written. I hope they will make it
+come out even on the edges, and that he will think to have a white
+marble dove perched on the top, unless it costs too much."
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+The years went on. Huldah surprised everybody by going away from home
+to get an education. She would have preferred marriage at that stage
+of her development, but to her mind there was no one worth marrying in
+Pleasant River save Pitt Packard, and, failing him, study would fill
+up the time as well as anything else.
+
+The education forced a good many helpful ideas into pretty Huldah's
+somewhat empty pate, though it by no means cured her of all her
+superstitions. She continued to keep a record of Saturday weather, and
+it proved as interesting and harmless a hobby as the collecting of
+china or postage-stamps.
+
+In course of time Pitt Packard moved to Goshen, Indiana, where he made
+a comfortable fortune by the invention of an estimable pump, after
+which he was known by his full name of W. Pitt Fessenden Packard. In
+course of time the impish and incredulous Jimmy Rumford became James,
+and espoused the daughter of a wealthy Boston merchant. His social
+advancement was no surprise to Huldah and her mother, for, from the
+moment he had left home, they had never dreamed of him save in
+conjunction with horned cattle, which is well known to signify
+unexampled prosperity.
+
+In course of time, too, old Mrs. Rumford was gathered to her fathers
+after a long illness, in which Huldah nursed her dutifully and well.
+Her death was not entirely unexpected, for Hannah Sophia Palmer
+observed spots like iron rust on her fingers, a dog howled every night
+under Almira Berry's window, and Huldah broke the kitchen
+looking-glass. No invalid could hope for recovery under these sinister
+circumstances, and Mrs. Rumford would have been the last woman in the
+world to fly in the face of such unmistakable signs of death. It is
+even rumored that when she heard the crash of glass in the kitchen she
+murmured piously, "Now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace," and
+expired within the hour.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+Nineteen summers and winters had passed since Pitt Packard drove "her
+that was Jennie Perkins" to Portland on her wedding-trip. He had been
+a good and loyal husband; she had been a good and faithful wife; and
+never once in the nineteen years had they so much as touched the hem
+of the garment of happiness.
+
+Huldah the Prophetess lived on in the old house alone. Time would have
+gone slowly and drearily enough had it not been for her ruling
+passion. If the first part of the week were fair, she was hopeful that
+there was greater chance of rain or snow by Saturday; if it were
+rainy, she hoped there would be a long storm. She kept an elaborate
+table showing the weather on every day of the year. Fair Saturdays
+were printed in red ink, foul Saturdays in jet-black. The last days of
+December were generally spent in preparing a succinct statement from
+these daily entries. Then in the month of January a neat document,
+presenting facts and figures, but no word of personal comment or
+communication, was addressed at first to Mr. W. P. Packard, and of
+late years to W. Pitt Fessenden Packard, and sent to Goshen, Indiana.
+
+Mr. Packard was a good and loyal husband, as I have said, but there
+was certainly no disloyalty in the annual perusal of statistical
+weather tables. That these tables, though made out by one of the
+weaker sex, were accurate and authentic, he had reason to believe,
+because he kept a rigid account of the weather himself, and compared
+Huldah's yearly record with his own. The weather in Pleasant River did
+not, it is true, agree absolutely with the weather in Goshen, but the
+similarity between Maine and Indiana Saturdays was remarkable. The
+first five years of Pitt's married life Huldah had the advantage, and
+the perusal of her tables afforded Pitt little satisfaction, since it
+proved that her superstitions had some apparent basis of reason. The
+next five years his turn came, and the fair Saturdays predominated. He
+was not any happier, however, on the whole, because, although he had
+the pleasure of being right himself, he lost the pleasure of believing
+Huldah right. So time went on until Mrs. Pitt died, and was buried
+under the handsomest granite monument that could be purchased by the
+sale of pumps. Not only were the funeral arrangements carried out with
+the liveliest consideration for the departed, but Mr. Packard
+abstained from all gay society and conducted himself with the greatest
+propriety. Nevertheless, when his partner and only confidential friend
+extolled Jennie's virtues as wife, housekeeper, companion, and church
+member, he remarked absently: "She was all that, Jim, but somehow I
+never liked her."
+
+For two years after his bereavement Huldah omitted sending her weather
+statistics to Mr. Packard, thinking, with some truth, that it might
+seem too marked an attention from an attractive Maine spinster to a
+"likely" Indiana widower.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+Matters were in this state when Mr. Packard alighted at the Edgewood
+station one bright day in August. He declined the offer of a drive,
+and soon found himself on the well-remembered road to Pleasant River.
+He had not trodden that dusty thoroughfare for many a year, and every
+tree and shrub and rock had a message for him, though he was a plain,
+matter-of-fact maker of pumps. There was no old home to revisit, for
+his stepmother had died long ago, and Jennie had conscientiously
+removed the family wreath from the glass case and woven some of the
+departed lady's hair into the funereal garland. He walked with the
+brisk step of a man who knew what he wanted, but there was a kind of
+breathless suspense in his manner which showed that he was uncertain
+of getting it. He passed the Whippoorwill Mill, the bubbling spring,
+the old moss-covered watering-trough, and then cut across the widow
+Buzzell's field straight to the Rumford farm. He kept rehearsing the
+subject-matter of a certain speech he intended to make. He knew it by
+heart, having repeated it once a day for several months, but nobody
+realized better than he that he would forget every word of it the
+moment he saw Huldah--at least, if the Huldah of to-day were anything
+like the Huldah of the olden time.
+
+The house came in sight. It used to be painted white; it was drab now,
+and there was a bay-window in the sitting-room. There was a new pump
+in the old place, and, happy omen, he discovered it was one of his own
+manufacture. He made his way by sheer force of habit past the kitchen
+windows to the side door. That was where they had quarreled mostly. He
+had a kind of sentiment about that side door. He paused a moment to
+hide his traveling-bag under the grapevine that shaded the porch, and
+as he raised his hand to grasp the knocker the blood rushed to his
+face and his heart leaped into his throat. Huldah stood near the
+window winding the old clock. In her right hand was a "Farmer's
+Almanac." How well he knew the yellow cover! and how like to the
+Huldah of seventeen was the Huldah of thirty-six! It was incredible
+that the pangs of disappointed love could make so little inroad on a
+woman's charms. Rosy cheeks, plump figure, clear eyes, with a little
+more snap in them than was necessary for connubial comfort, but not a
+whit too much for beauty; brown hair curling round her ears and
+temples--what an ornament to a certain house he knew in Goshen,
+Indiana!
+
+She closed the wooden door of the clock, and, turning, took a generous
+bite from the side of a mellow August sweeting that lay on the table.
+At this rather inauspicious moment her eye caught Pitt's. The sight of
+her old lover drove all prudence and reserve from her mind, and she
+came to the door with such an intoxicating smile and such welcoming
+hands that he would have kissed her then and there, even if he had not
+come to Pleasant River for that especial purpose. Of course he forgot
+the speech, but his gestures were convincing, and he mumbled a
+sufficient number of extracts from it to convince Huldah that he was
+in a proper frame of mind--this phrase meaning to a woman the one in
+which she can do anything she likes with a man.
+
+They were too old, doubtless, to cry and laugh in each other's arms,
+and ask forgiveness for past follies, and regret the wasted years, and
+be thankful for present hope and life and love; but that is what they
+did, old as they were.
+
+"I wouldn't have any business to ask you to marry such a dictatorial
+fool as I used to be, Huldah," said Pitt; "but I've got over
+considerable of my foolishness, and do say you will. Say, too, you
+won't make me wait any longer, but marry me Sunday or Monday. This is
+Thursday, and I must be back in Goshen next week at this time. Will
+you, Huldah?"
+
+Huldah blushed, but shook her head. She looked lovely when she
+blushed, and she hadn't lost the trick of it even at thirty-six.
+
+"I know it's soon; but never mind getting ready. If you won't say
+Monday, make it Tuesday--do."
+
+She shook her head again.
+
+"Wednesday, then. _Do_ say Wednesday, Huldy dear."
+
+The same smile of gentle negation.
+
+He dropped her hand disconsolately.
+
+"Then I'll have to come back at Christmas-time, I s'pose. It's just my
+busy season now, or I would stay right here on this doorstep till you
+was ready, for it seems to me as if I'd been waiting for you ever
+since I was born, and couldn't get you too soon."
+
+"Do you really want me to marry you so much, Pitt?"
+
+"Never wanted anything so bad in my life."
+
+"Didn't you wonder I wasn't more surprised to see you to-day?"
+
+"Nothing surprises me in women-folks."
+
+"Well, it was because I've dreamed of a funeral three nights running.
+Do you know what that's a sign of?"
+
+Pitt never winked an eyelash; he had learned his lesson. With a sigh
+of relief that his respected stepmother was out of hearing, he
+responded easily, "I s'pose it's a sign somebody's dead or going to
+die."
+
+"No, it isn't: dreams go by contraries. It's a sign there's going to
+be a wedding."
+
+"I'm glad to know that much, but I wish while you was about it you'd
+have dreamt a little more, and found out when the wedding was going to
+be."
+
+"I did; and if you weren't the stupidest man alive you could guess."
+
+"I know I'm slow-witted," said Pitt meekly, for he was in a mood to
+endure anything, "but I've asked you to have me on every day there is
+except the one I'm afraid to name."
+
+"You know I've had plenty of offers."
+
+"Unless all the men-folks are blind, you must have had a thousand,
+Huldah."
+
+Huldah was distinctly pleased. As a matter of fact she had had only
+five; but five offers in the State of Maine implies a superhuman power
+of attraction not to be measured by the casual reader.
+
+"Are you sorry you called me a mass of superstition?"
+
+"I wish I'd been horsewhipped where I stood."
+
+"Very well, then. The first time you wouldn't marry me at all unless
+you could have me Friday, and of course I wouldn't take you Friday
+under those circumstances. Now you say you're glad and willing to
+marry me any day in the week, and so I'll choose Friday of my own
+accord. I'll marry you to-morrow, Pitt: and"--here she darted a
+roguishly sibylline glance at the clouds--"I have a water-proof; have
+you an umbrella for Saturday?"
+
+Pitt took her at her word, you may be sure, and married her the next
+day, but I wish you could have seen it rain on Saturday! There never
+was such a storm in Pleasant River. The road to the Edgewood station
+was a raging flood; but though the bride and groom were drenched to
+the skin they didn't take cold--they were too happy. Love within is a
+beautiful counter-irritant.
+
+Huldah didn't mind waiting a little matter of nineteen years, so long
+as her maiden flag sank in a sea of triumph at the end; and it is but
+simple justice to an erring but attractive woman to remark that she
+never said "I told you so!" to her husband.
+
+
+
+
+TWO ON A TOUR
+
+
+LOG-BOOK OF CHARLOTTE AMALIA CLIFFORD
+
+                                       S.S. Diana, January 21, 1918
+                                   On the way to the Virgin Islands
+
+I engrossed the above heading in my journal shortly after we left the
+dock in New York, but from what has occurred in the past few days I
+think my occasional entries in the log-book are likely to be records
+of Dorothea Valentine's love-affairs as they occur to her day by day,
+and as unluckily they are poured into my ear for lack of a better or
+more convenient vessel.
+
+We are dear friends, Dolly and I. Her name is Dorothea, but apparently
+she will have to grow up to it, for at present everybody calls her
+Dolly, Dora, Dot, or Dodo, according to his or her sex, color, or
+previous condition of servitude. Dolly is twenty and I am thirty;
+indeed, her mother is only forty, so that I am rather her contemporary
+than Dolly's, but friendship is more a matter of sympathy than
+relative age, and Mrs. Valentine and I are by no means twin souls. As
+a matter of fact, that lady would never have noticed me, the private
+secretary of Clive Winthrop, a government official in Washington, had
+it not been that, through him and his sister, I had access to a more
+interesting group in society than had Mrs. Valentine, a widow of large
+means but a stranger in the Capital. Clive Winthrop is a person of
+distinction and influence, and Miss Ellen Winthrop, an old friend of
+my mother's, is one of the most charming hostesses in Washington,
+while I am in reality nothing but a paid scribe; the glad, willing,
+ardent, but silent assistant of a man who is serving the
+Administration with all his heart; but neither he nor his sister will
+have it so considered. I almost think that Miss Ellen Winthrop, still
+vivacious and vigorous at seventy, is ready to give up to me her place
+as head of the household if I consent to say the word; but I am not
+sure enough yet to say it; and because of that uncertainty I cannot
+trust myself in the daily company of the two persons most deeply
+concerned in my decision.
+
+A sea voyage is the best thing in the world to blow away doubts or
+difficulties; it also clears the air so that one can see one's course,
+whether it be toward the north of duty or the south of desire.
+
+My work for a long time has been to report interviews, take
+stenographic records, and write hundreds of letters for Mr. Winthrop
+during the somewhat protracted discussion that preceded the
+acquisition of the Virgin Islands by the United States. It is odd that
+these tasks should have fallen to me, who added below Clive Winthrop's
+signature to many communications the typed initials C. A. C., for I
+have a special interest in these new possessions of ours, a very close
+and sentimental one, since I was born on St. Thomas, one of the Virgin
+Islands, and christened Charlotte Amalia after the little red-roofed
+town on the shore of the perfect harbor. My birth in St. Thomas was
+entirely unpremeditated, and I was taken away as soon as my mother was
+able to travel; nevertheless, I have always longed during the twelve
+years of my loneliness, without father or mother, to see the place
+where they were so happy in each other and so blissful in the prospect
+of my appearance.
+
+I, then, have a right to this particular holiday and this opportunity
+to decide my future. Miss Dorothea Valentine, on the contrary, is a
+wholly unexpected, I will not say an unwelcome, companion, although
+when I wish to be thinking of my own problems she generally desires to
+discuss hers, which are trivial, though interesting and unique.
+
+Everything about the girl piques interest; her beauty, her charm, her
+childlike gayety and inconsequence, which are but the upper current of
+a deeper sea of sincerity and common sense. Somebody says: "Ladies
+vary in looks; they're like military flags for a funeral or a
+celebration--one day furled, next day streaming. Men are ships;
+figureheads, about the same in a storm or a calm, and not too
+handsome, thanks to the ocean." The last phrases are peculiarly true
+of Clive Winthrop, who is sometimes called the ugliest man in
+Washington, yet who commands attention in any room that he enters
+because of his fine physique, his noble head, and his distinction of
+bearing and speech. Rugged he is, "thanks to the ocean," but he looks
+as if he could swim against the strongest current. On the other hand,
+it cannot be said that Dolly Valentine varies. She is lovely at
+breakfast, lovelier at luncheon, and loveliest at dinner when the
+dazzling whiteness of her neck and shoulders is revealed. Only a
+tolerably generous woman would suffer herself to be in the almost
+daily companionship of such a charmer, and that I am in that dangerous
+juxtaposition is her fault, not mine.
+
+"You must take me with you on your sea voyage, Charlotte," she said.
+"I must get away from Washington and from mother. No, don't raise your
+eye-brows and begin to scold before you know what I mean! I am not
+going to criticize my maternal parent, but I am so under her thumb at
+the moment that I am a flabby mass of indecision. I have no more mind
+than a jellyfish, yet I have to decide a matter of vital importance
+within a month. How can I make up a non-existent mind? Answer me that.
+Your life is so fixed and serene and settled; so full of absorbing
+work; you are so flattered and appreciated that you are like a big
+ship anchored in a safe harbor, and you can't think what it's like to
+be a silly little yacht bobbing about on the open sea!" (Such is the
+uncomprehending viewpoint of twenty toward thirty; the calm assumption
+that ladies of that mature age can have no love-affairs of their own
+to perplex them!)
+
+"There is no need of your being a silly little yacht, Dolly!" I
+answered. "If you want to make a real voyage you have the power to
+choose your craft."
+
+"Mother always chooses for me," she said with a pout. "She doesn't gag
+me and put me in irons and lead me up the gangplank by brute force,
+but she dominates me. I start out each morning like a nice, fat, pink
+balloon and by evening, though I haven't felt any violent pin-pricks,
+I am nothing but a little shrunken heap of shriveled rubber. You know
+it, Charlotte! You have seen me bouncing at breakfast and seen me flat
+at dinner!"
+
+It was impossible not to laugh at her. "Don't be ridiculous!" I
+expostulated. "There is nothing between you and happiness but a little
+cloud so diaphanous that a breath of common sense would blow it away.
+Now read your magazine and let me write in my log-book. It is intended
+to be an informal report to my chief, of the islands we are to visit.
+We shall be at St. Thomas to-morrow morning and in the four days we
+have been journeying from New York the only topic of conversation in
+which you have shown the slightest enthusiasm is whether you should or
+should not marry Marmaduke Hogg!"
+
+"Don't call him all of it, Charlotte," and she shuddered. "Mother is
+always doing it and I can't bear it!" whereupon she flounced about on
+her deck-chair and hid her face in her steamer-rug.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+It was a foolish little love-story, that of Dorothea Valentine. Her
+mother was a mass of polite and unnecessary conventions; a pretty sort
+of person with a clear profile like that of a cold, old little bird.
+Her small, sharp nose resembled a beak; her eyes were like two black
+beads; and her conversation was a lengthy series of twitterings.
+Charlotte Clifford used to tell Miss Winthrop that if Mrs. Valentine
+had been a canary, people would have forever been putting a towel over
+her cage to secure silence. She was always idle, save for a
+bewildering succession of reconstruction periods, apparently
+forestalling ruins that no one else could have prophesied. She dieted
+and reduced her hips; had violet rays applied to her scalp; had her
+wrinkles ironed out by some mysterious process. If you caught her
+before ten in the morning you would find her with crescent-shaped bits
+of court-plaster beside her eyes, in front of her ears, and between
+her brows. She was beautifully clothed, shod, gloved, massaged,
+manicured, and marcelled. She lived on the best sides of the streets
+and at the proper hotels. She answered notes, returned calls, and gave
+wedding presents punctiliously. She never used the telephone for
+invitations, nor had anything but contempt for abbreviations,
+carefully writing out Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, and Minneapolis,
+Minnesota, when she addressed her sisters in those cities. A mass of
+the most glaring virtues was Mrs. Reginald Valentine, impeccable and
+unassailable, with views on all subjects as rigid as the laws of the
+Medes and Persians. She had ordered her husband's life during their
+ten years of marriage, he being a gentle and artistic soul, and she
+had more or less directed his exercise, amusements, diet, as well as
+his political and religious opinions. She nursed him faithfully in his
+last illness, but when he timidly begged to be cremated instead of
+buried, she reminded him that it was a radical, ultra-modern idea;
+that the Valentine lot and monument were very beautiful; that there
+never had been any cremations in the family connection; and that she
+hoped he would not break a long-established custom and leave behind
+him a positively irreligious request. Various stories of Mr.
+Valentine's docility had crept into circulation, and it is said that
+on this occasion he turned his head meekly to the wall and sighed:
+"Very well, Emma! Do just as you think best; it's your funeral!"
+
+Just how Dorothea blossomed on this stalk it is difficult to say. A
+bright-eyed, sunshiny, willful baby, she had grown into an unaffected,
+attractive, breezy young woman, outwardly obedient, inwardly mutinous.
+She was generally calm in her mother's presence, never criticizing her
+openly, and her merry heart kept her from being really unhappy in a
+relationship that many girls would have found intolerable. Beaux she
+had a-plenty and lovers not a few. As cream or honey to flies, so was
+Dorothea Valentine to mankind in general; but she took them on gayly
+and cast them off lightly, little harm being done on either side by
+the brief experience.
+
+Of course the suits of some of the suitors had been hard-pressed by
+Mrs. Valentine. "You will go through the woods to find a crooked stick
+at last, Dorothea," she would say. "You don't know a desirable _parti_
+when you see one. You must have an extraordinary opinion of your own
+charms to think that you have only to pick and choose. Those charms
+will fade, rather prematurely, I fear, and when your looked-for ideal
+comes along it may be that he will not regard you as flawless."
+
+"I don't expect him to, mother! I only expect him to find my own flaws
+interesting."
+
+"There is no certainty of that, my dear,"--and Mrs. Valentine's tone
+was touched with cynicism. "I had an intimate friend once, Clara
+Wyman, a very nice girl she was, who had been in love with my cousin
+Roger Benson for years. He seemed much attached to her and when time
+went by and nothing happened, I spoke to him plainly one night and
+asked him if he didn't intend to propose to her, and if not, what were
+his reasons. What do you suppose they were?"
+
+Mrs. Valentine's tone implied that a shock was coming.
+
+Dolly sat erect on her mother's Italian day-bed as one prepared.
+
+"I'm sure I have no idea--how could I have?" she asked.
+
+"Roger said that he didn't like her wiping her nose through her
+veil!!"
+
+Dolly flung herself at length on the couch and buried her face in the
+cushions, her whole body shaking convulsively with silent mirth.
+
+"You may laugh, Dorothea, but this incident, which I have told many
+times, shows how fantastic, erratic, despotic, and hypercritical men
+generally are. You will come to your senses some time and realize that
+no one is likely to bear with your perversities more patiently than
+Arthur Wilde or Lee Wadsworth, who have both wasted a winter dangling
+about you."
+
+Dolly raised her head, patted her hair, and wiped her streaming eyes.
+
+"I realize the dangerous obstacles between me and the altar as I never
+did before,"--and the girl's voice was full of laughter. "But I should
+have to lock Arthur Wilde in the basement whenever professors came to
+dinner. I couldn't marry Arthur's vocabulary, mother,--I couldn't!"
+
+"He is a wonderful son, and a millionaire; he has three houses, four
+motors, and a steam yacht!"
+
+"Sure, but that don't 'enthuse me,' 'tremenjous' as it sounds! (I am
+imitating Mr. Wilde's style of conversation.) And as for Lee Wadsworth
+he is bow-legged!"
+
+"Lee's reputation is straight at any rate, and his income all that
+could be desired," responded Mrs. Valentine loftily. "I wish I could
+convince you, Dorothea, that there are no perfect husbands. You are
+looking for the impossible! Indeed, I have always found men singularly
+imperfect, even as friends and companions, and in a more intimate
+relation they leave still more to be desired. You dismissed Sir Thomas
+Scott because he was too dictatorial, although you knew he intended to
+have the family diamonds reset for you."
+
+"He'd have had them reset in Sheffield or Birmingham, but, anyhow, one
+doesn't marry diamonds, mother."
+
+"One might at least make the effort, Dorothea! I notice that most of
+the people who disdain diamonds generally possess three garnets, two
+amethysts, and one Mexican opal."
+
+Dolly laughed. "You know I did emulate the celebrated Mrs. Dombey,
+mother."
+
+"I know you made a very brief and feeble effort to be sensible, and
+you might have conquered yourself had it not been for the sudden
+appearance of this young Hogg on your horizon."
+
+"You shall not call him a young Hogg!" cried Dolly passionately. "It
+isn't fair; I won't endure it!"
+
+"I thought that was his name," remarked Mrs. Valentine, placidly
+shifting a wrinkle-plaster from one place to another. "You wouldn't
+object if I had alluded to young Benham or young Wadsworth. You show
+by your very excitement how disagreeable his name is to your ears. It
+isn't a question of argument; Marmaduke Hogg is an outrageous,
+offensive name; if he had been Charles or James it would have been
+more decent. The 'Marmaduke' simply calls attention to the 'Hogg.' If
+any one had asked to introduce a person named Hogg to me I should have
+declined."
+
+"I've told you a dozen times, mother, that the Wilmots' house-party
+was at breakfast when I arrived from the night train. There was a
+perfect Babel and everybody was calling him 'Duke.' He looked like
+one, and nobody said--the other. I didn't even hear his last name till
+evening, and then it was too late."
+
+"'Too late!' Really, Dorothea, if you have no sense of propriety you
+may leave the room!"--and Mrs. Valentine applied the smelling-bottle
+to her birdlike nose as a sign that her nerves were racked to the
+limit and she might at any moment succumb.
+
+"All I know is," continued Dorothea obstinately, "that he was the
+best-looking, the most interesting, the cleverest, the most
+companionable man in the house-party, or for that matter in the
+universe. You don't ask the last name of Orlando, or Benedick, or
+Marcus Aurelius, or Albert of Belgium."
+
+"It wouldn't be necessary." (Here Mrs. Valentine was quite
+imperturbable.) "The Valentines have never been required to associate
+with theatrical people or foreigners. In some ways I dislike the name
+of Marmaduke as much as Hogg. It is so bombastic that it seems somehow
+like an assumed name, or as if the creature had been born on the
+stage. When coupled with Hogg it loses what little distinction it
+might have had by itself. One almost wishes it had been Marmalade.
+Marmalade Hogg suggests a quite nauseating combination of food, but
+there is a certain appropriateness about it."
+
+Dorothea's face was flaming. "You will never allow Duke to explain
+himself, mother, nor hear me through when I attempt to make things
+clear to you. You never acknowledge that you know, but you do know,
+that Duke's people were English a long way back, and 'Marmaduke' is an
+old family name. The Winthrops will tell you that Duke's father and
+mother were named Forrest and that they changed it to Hogg to pacify
+an old bachelor uncle who wanted to leave Duke six thousand dollars a
+year. He had no voice in the matter; he was only twelve years old."
+
+"It was a very short-sighted business proposition, and your Duke must
+have been very young for his age,"--and Mrs. Valentine took another
+deep sniff of lavender. "Sixty thousand a year wouldn't induce me to
+be named Hogg, and I shall never consent to have one in my family!"
+
+Dorothea burst into tears, a most uncommon occurrence.
+
+"You have dwelt so long on this purely immaterial objection," she
+sobbed, "that you have finally inoculated me with something of your
+own feeling and made me miserable and ashamed. I dare say, too, I have
+hurt Duke's pride by trying to give him a reason for your indifferent
+attitude, yet never having courage for the real, piffling explanation.
+I am mortified at my despicable weakness and I will overcome it by
+realizing how unworthy I am to bear Duke's honorable, unstained name,
+even if it is Hogg. You might as well give up, mother! If the dearest,
+best, most delightful man in the world loves me, I shall marry him,
+name and all."
+
+"I do not regard it as settled," replied Mrs. Valentine calmly. "The
+young man may not think you so desirable when he learns that my
+refusal to accept him as a son-in-law means that he must take you
+without any income. Your dear father must have foreseen some such
+tragedy when he left all his money in my care!"
+
+"Duke will take me without a penny!" cried Dorothea hotly. "I would
+stake my life on that!"
+
+"Don't be melodramatic, Dorothea. We shall see in time. It is just
+possible that the young man may not be greedy, and so belie his name."
+This was Mrs. Valentine's last shaft as Dorothea walked out of the
+room with her chin in the air.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+                                       S.S. Diana, January 26, 1918
+
+St. Thomas, and Charlotte Amalia, the little town for which I was
+named, looked so lovely when we landed early this morning that I felt
+a positive thrill of pride.
+
+This halfway house of the sea, this gateway of the Caribbean, as it
+has been picturesquely called, seemed, as Dolly and I climbed the
+hills and the stone stairways, to materialize into a birthplace
+instead of a vague dream. A year ago, with the _Dannebrog_, the
+scarlet, white-crossed banner of Denmark, floating over the red Danish
+fortress on the water-front, I might have felt an alien, but the Stars
+and Stripes made me feel at home and I could only remember that my
+father and mother met and loved each other in this little Paradise,
+and that when I was born there they were the two happiest people under
+the sun. If they could have seen their daughter saluting the American
+flag so near the very spot in which she first saw the light, they
+would have been comforted, I am sure, instead of repining that they
+had both been taken away when she most needed their love and
+protection.
+
+Such a view from Diana's deck as we crept into the wonderful harbor! A
+background of towering green hills and a dazzling blue of velvet sky
+and crystal sea, like that of Algiers, greeted our enchanted gaze!
+Like some of the coast towns of Italy, Charlotte Amalia is gay with
+color, and its white, red-roofed villas nestle among their luxuriant
+gardens and tropical foliage, standing out in a perfect riot of orange
+and yellow, blue and red.
+
+Never, save in Venice, have I seen such a gorgeous array of color in a
+landscape.
+
+Five hours we had in St. Thomas while the Diana put off hundreds of
+barrels of cement; but what with the gayly painted boats and their
+dark-skinned crews, the naked brown boys diving and swimming for
+pennies and dimes in the harbor, a walk to Bluebeard's Tower and
+Blackbeard's Castle, we were well amused. Particularly so was
+Dorothea, who disappeared from my side for a half-hour while I chatted
+with the captain, rejoining me in the tiny palm-bordered park near the
+landing.
+
+She was glowing with happiness.
+
+"What do you think, Charlotte?" she exclaimed. "I have a letter from
+Duke. Not written after we sailed, of course, for it couldn't have
+reached me. He bearded mother in her fortress the morning we left
+Washington. She was out, or said she was, but sent a note saying that
+I had gone on a journey and would be absent for a month. He went
+directly to the Winthrops for news and they told him I was with you
+and that if he wrote at once by special delivery he could reach the
+ship before it left New York dock. He sent the letter to the captain
+and asked him to give it to me at St. Thomas for a surprise. The
+captain is such a nice man, though a good deal of a tease! Mr.
+Winthrop was delighted to hear you were not alone. Poor Miss Winthrop
+has influenza and they both wish they had taken this trip. It seems
+they are thinking of it just a little."
+
+"The Winthrops coming on this voyage," I exclaimed. "Impossible! They
+hadn't an idea of it."
+
+"Mightn't he want to interview the governor and look at the island?"
+
+"He hasn't time. I chose this journey instead of another so that I
+could interview the governor and look at the islands myself."
+
+"Well, I dare say there's nothing in it. Duke didn't speak of it as
+anything settled, and he may have misunderstood, his mind being on me.
+May I read you the letter--I mean parts of it?"
+
+"I shouldn't expect to hear all of it," I replied dryly.
+
+"Yet the bits I leave out are the ones that show him as he is," she
+said, looking off into the grove of palms. "Duke is so conscientious
+that until we succeed in melting mother--that would be a good title
+for a story, 'Melting Mother'!--and until she sanctions an engagement
+he won't let himself go, even on paper. So I get only a lovely sort of
+'seepage' that breaks through in spite of him!"
+
+"Skip the seepage," I said unsympathetically, "and give the news."
+
+She re-read the first paragraphs to herself with a good deal of
+dimpling and with eyes that suffused with feeling now and then, and
+turning the page began to read aloud:
+
+  Knowing that you were on the high seas far away from me, though
+  safe with your charming Miss Clifford (Duke admires you
+  extravagantly, Charlotte!), I concluded to burn my ships and
+  have a straightforward talk with your mother, although you have
+  repeatedly warned me that this was not the best method of
+  approach and that only patience would win my cause. I sent up my
+  card at the New Willard, and doubtless she would have refused to
+  receive me, but, going from the office to one of the reception
+  rooms to await her, I found her seated there with your
+  Philadelphia aunt and another lady. There had evidently been
+  confidences, so they scented trouble and took to their heels
+  when I had been introduced to them somewhat informally as a
+  friend of Dorothea's, my name not being mentioned.
+
+  I asked your mother, when we were left alone, if she had any
+  objection to me other than my uneuphonious and suggestive
+  surname.
+
+  She replied guardedly, no, or at least nothing in particular,
+  though she might say without conceit that Dorothea might aspire
+  to anybody, even the highest.
+
+  I cordially agreed, saying that if the male sex had any eye for
+  beauty, charm or loveliness of character, Dorothea might marry
+  not only anybody but everybody.
+
+  She said she thought persiflage was out of taste when the
+  happiness of a mother's whole life was in question.
+
+  I begged pardon, but said it was necessary for me to whistle to
+  keep my courage up, for the happiness of _my_ whole life was in
+  question.
+
+  She said that was beside the point and her daughter's happiness
+  must also be considered.
+
+  I remarked that her daughter, to my infinite surprise and
+  gratitude, assured me that her happiness lay in the same
+  direction as my own.
+
+  She vouchsafed the information that Dorothea was a romantic
+  fool.
+
+  I denied it.
+
+  She dealt what she considered to be a body-blow by affirming
+  that your property would not be in your hands till you were
+  twenty-one.
+
+  I replied that I didn't care if it didn't reach you till you
+  were a hundred and twenty-one.
+
+  She said, "Don't be silly," and asked me if I had ever thought
+  of changing my name back to Forrest from Hogg.
+
+  I inquired in return if she would mind the loss of six thousand
+  dollars a year, supposing that I should take such a step.
+
+  She reflected and said that she should, but she would rather
+  lose it than take the name; and that we could rub along on
+  Dorothea's money, she supposed, if that was my idea of a
+  pleasant life.
+
+  I hastened to say that I would relinquish the six thousand
+  without a pang, confident that I could make a living anyway; but
+  that it would be disloyal to my good old uncle, whose bounty had
+  given me a college course, two years at Oxford and three at
+  Harvard Law School. It had also permitted me to give my services
+  to the United States Shipping Board without compensation.
+
+  She said she thought it was very selfish in a government to
+  accept a man's whole time and give him no remuneration; that the
+  Secretary of the Treasury had only to say to the banks, "Let
+  there be money," and there was money. There would be plenty for
+  everybody if only the engravers and laborers at the Mint would
+  not strike.
+
+  I reminded her that men were remunerated sufficiently in being
+  allowed to serve their country in time of war.
+
+  She returned that she thought that point of view foolish and
+  fantastic, but if she found, after a year, that her daughter's
+  peace of mind was threatened, would I then change my name and
+  live on Dorothea's income until I could establish myself in the
+  practice of the law? She said that I must acknowledge that this
+  was a ridiculously generous proposition and one that neither my
+  talents nor my station in life merited.
+
+  I replied that the proposition meant to me that I should simply
+  be selling myself and buying her daughter, and that I declined
+  to accept it.
+
+("Oh, Charlotte!" the girl interrupted with a catch in her throat,
+"don't you think that was splendid and clever, too?")
+
+  Your mother said that she wished to take the matter into
+  consideration during your absence [so the letter ran on], and
+  just as we were rising the Philadelphia aunt came in from one
+  door and General X, Senator Y, and Lord Z from another.
+
+  They are at the moment three of the most significant figures in
+  the moving picture of Washington society, and all women pursue
+  them. They beamed at me as if they had been commandeered for
+  that special purpose, and Senator Y said jovially: "How are you,
+  Duke? Glad to see you. Are you free to dine with us?"
+
+  I hastily turned to your mother, saying: "I was just going to
+  ask you and your sister if you would dine with me."
+
+  Lord Z, who was at Balliol with me, you remember, said: "Then
+  perhaps you will allow us to come to your table for coffee,
+  Hogg?" Your mother gazed at him, astounded that his noble tongue
+  could utter the name. Then she actually and gracefully "fell"
+  for the dinner, lured by the bait of the post-prandial coffee
+  with the distinguished trio, and the Philadelphia aunt kept
+  things going serenely. She is a delightful person and will be a
+  perfect companion for your mother when--you know when--when she
+  needs one--and I no longer do!
+
+("There never was a man who said things like Duke!" interpolated Dolly
+ecstatically.)
+
+  All would have gone swimmingly to the end had not a page
+  suddenly entered the room bawling: "Mr. Hogg wanted at the
+  telephone: Mr. Hogg? Telephone message for Mr. HOGG!"
+
+  Only capitals can give an idea of the volume of voice. My
+  ear-drum, grown painfully sensitive since I met your mother,
+  echoed and reëchoed with the tone as I threaded my way through
+  the crowded room, followed by every eye, while I imagined people
+  saying: "I wonder if he's called to the stockyard?" (It is
+  queer, but I never felt this way in Oxford, for they still
+  remember Hogg, the Scottish poet, and I hung myself to his
+  revered coat-tails.)
+
+  The telephone message was from my secretary, and healed my
+  wounded vanity, for it came from the British Embassy conveying
+  the thanks of the Foreign Office for Mr. Hogg's friendly and
+  helpful action in conducting negotiations for the chartering of
+  ex-enemy ships lying in South American ports.
+
+("You see what he is!" exclaimed Dolly, looking up from the letter
+with eyes full of unshed tears! "Of course he has five or six
+superiors in office but I suppose really that Duke's extraordinary
+talent keeps that whole shipping board going! You mark my words,
+Charlotte, when Duke gives up his position and goes to Plattsburg
+there'll be an absolute slump in that office! But just hear what
+follows; it is so discouraging!")
+
+  But when, glowing with the delight that always comes to me when
+  I have any little tribute to lay with my love at your charming
+  number-three feet, when I returned to my table your mother had
+  gone to her room and the Philadelphia aunt remained to explain
+  that she had been taken suddenly ill.
+
+  "It will all come right, Mr.--my dear boy!" she said. "My sister
+  has one weakness, an abnormal sensitiveness to public opinion.
+  She thinks constantly what people will say of this, that, or the
+  other trifling thing, and in that way perpetually loses sight of
+  the realities of life. There is a great deal of good in her that
+  you have never seen because for the moment she is absolutely
+  obsessed by her objection to your name and her conviction that
+  Dorothea might and should marry a title. My sister married
+  Reginald Valentine more for the effect on her future
+  visiting-card than anything else, but Dorothea's father
+  bequeathed his good looks, his sunny disposition, his charm, and
+  his generous nature to his daughter. You have chosen wisely, my
+  dear Mr.--boy, but not more wisely, to my mind, than Dorothea
+  has!"
+
+  So it ended, but I somehow hope that I may have converted your
+  mother from an enemy alien to an armed neutral!
+
+"There is nothing more of--of--general interest," said Dolly
+tearfully, as she slipped the letter in the envelope. "Aunt Maggie is
+a trump. Oh, Charlotte! if only you had ever had a love-problem like
+mine and could advise me! Duke always wondered that you never
+married."
+
+(Dorothea ought to be cuffed for impertinence, but she is too
+unconscious and too pretty and lovable for corporal punishment.)
+
+"Perhaps there may still be hope even at thirty!" I said stiffly.
+
+"Oh, I didn't mean that! You might have anybody by lifting your
+finger! We only wonder you've never lifted it! But you could be happy
+only with a very learned and prominent man, you are so clever!"
+
+"I'm clever enough to prefer love to learning, if I have to choose,
+Dolly, my dear."
+
+"I'm so sorry you didn't get a letter, Charlotte," said the girl,
+snuggling sympathetically to my side on the bench.
+
+This was more than flesh and blood or angel could bear!
+
+I kissed her, and, shaking her off my shoulder vigorously, I said, as
+I straightened my hat: "As a matter of fact, Miss Valentine, I have
+had a letter every day since we left New York; a letter delivered
+before breakfast by the steward. You have had but one, yet you are
+twenty and I am thirty!"
+
+"_Charlotte!_"
+
+"Don't add to your impudence by being too astonished, darling," I
+continued. "Come! let's go and pick bananas and pineapples and
+tamarinds and shaddocks and star-apples and sapodillas!"
+
+"I won't budge a step till you tell me all about it!"
+
+"Then you'll grow to this green bench and have to be cut away by your
+faithful Marmaduke!"
+
+"Is it a secret?"
+
+"It doesn't exist at all for you. You are not of age, Dolly."
+
+"I'm old enough to know the things one can learn by heart!" was
+Dolly's comment.
+
+When the Diana was leaving St. Thomas at sunset and we were well on
+our way to St. Croix, Dolly made a half confidence.
+
+"You are not my chaperon, Charlotte, because in my hour of need I
+simply fastened myself to you like a limpet, or an albatross, or a
+barnacle, or any other form of nautical vampire that you prefer.
+Still, I might as well confess that I cabled to Duke, or wirelessed,
+or did something awfully expensive of that sort at St. Thomas while
+you were having that interminable talk with the captain, who, by the
+way, is married and devoted to his wife, they say."
+
+"That was foolish and extravagant, my child," I answered. "I don't
+know what you said, but I have the most absolute confidence in your
+indiscretion. I hope you remembered that all messages are censored in
+war-time?"
+
+"I did, indeed," she sighed. "I was never so hampered and handicapped
+in my life, but I think I have outwitted the censors. I wish I were as
+sure about--mother!"
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+                                             S.S. Diana, January 26
+
+St. Croix was delightful, with a motor-ride across the island from
+Frederikstad to Christianstad, where we lunched.
+
+Dolly's mind is not in a state especially favorable for instruction,
+but I took a guidebook, and, sitting under a wonderful tamarind tree,
+read her Alexander Hamilton's well-known letter describing a West
+Indian hurricane, written from St. Croix in 1772.
+
+We were with a party of Canadian acquaintances made on shipboard and
+greatly interested in our first visits to sugar plantations. Vast
+cane-fields of waving green stretched mile after mile on the right and
+on the left, making it seem incredible that a Food Commissioner need
+beg the sweet tooth to deny itself in the midst of such riotous
+plenty.
+
+There was a dazzling glare from the white buildings of the town and
+the coral roads, but the moment we reached the outlying country all
+was verdant and restful. The beautiful hard roads ran like white
+ribbons over velvet hills and through rich valleys; tall windmills,
+belonging to the earlier days of sugar-making, rose picturesquely from
+the magnificent palms and other shade-trees; there were brilliant
+flowers and blossoming vines breaking through hedges here and there,
+and acres of pineapples and orange groves. Truly, our Canadian
+companions might wish us luck in our new possessions!
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+                                                   Later in the day
+
+We have left the Virgin Islands now and at dawn we neared St. Kitts,
+of the Leeward group, anchoring a half-mile away from the landing and
+putting passengers ashore in the small boats that ranged themselves
+near the steamer. There was a very bedlam of chatter, argument, and
+recrimination among the black boatmen, mounting at times to furious
+invective in a patois we failed wholly to understand, for though the
+majority of the natives speak English on all the islands, whether
+Dutch, French, or British, they use a language of their own vintage on
+these undress occasions. I could see Dolly's bright head and laughing
+eyes peeping through her porthole, nodding good-morning to me as I
+viewed the scene from my own little stateroom opposite hers.
+
+The St. Kitts boatmaster was a superb personage in white linen uniform
+and cap. He stood at the top of the steps lowered from our steamer to
+the ocean, and from that serene height of power commanded his
+clamorous and refractory legions.
+
+It was his voice that called me irresistibly from my berth and kept my
+ears, as well as my eyes, glued to the porthole of my cabin. It was a
+deep, rich barytone, as full of color as his own native skies and sea.
+The white cap set off his dark skin, and a pair of eyes that shot
+lightnings of authority gleamed from under his vizor. He ought to have
+been singing the "Pagliacci" prologue at the Metropolitan Opera House,
+but instead he was calling resonantly (his private megaphone seemed to
+be located in his own throat): "_Don't crowd, Edward.... Push in,
+Victoria.... Get away, George.... Come nearer, come nearer, Mary....
+Show your number, Albert, or meet me in court to-morrow at eleven!_"
+
+As a matter of fact, these were the names painted on the boats
+crowding and jamming their way to the most favorable places for
+securing passengers or freight; but the quality of his voice made it
+seem as if, in calling Victoria, Edward, George, Mary, and Albert, he
+were summoning a corporeal bevy of kings and queens to do his instant
+bidding. The excitement reached its climax when an aged bishop
+descended the stairway, which was under some circumstances as perilous
+as a ladder. The bishop's quaint hat and gown and hood of various
+colors made him seem like a benign figure in comic opera; and perhaps
+because of his dignity or his multiplicity of luggage, all the boats
+ardently desired him as a passenger. Two green boxes, carrying much
+information painted in white on the sides, gave us all details of his
+rank, ancestry, and place of residence. These were projected down the
+stairway and then followed an imposing procession of servitors bearing
+potted plants, packages done up in linen cloth, baskets of eggs,
+limes, lemons, grapefruit, a canary in a cage, some white mice, and a
+Persian cat; the last three, it is needless to say, being in separate
+crates.
+
+Majestic being, that St. Kitts boatmaster; never more impressive than
+when he successfully landed a bishop of the isles! Dolly and I
+recalled the "Admirable Crichton" in Barrie's whimsical play, who, as
+butler in a titled English family, was wrecked with the entire
+household on a desert island. It needed only the emergencies of
+twenty-four hours to establish him as the dominant intellectual force
+and the practical governor of the sadly inefficient earls, countesses,
+ladies, and honorables; and before long he assumed the authority
+properly belonging to him. That the earl's daughter finally fell in
+love with him seemed not so much dramatic license as a tribute to his
+obvious superiority. In London the lady would have been criticized as
+marrying beneath her; on the desert island it actually appeared as if
+she were doing particularly well for herself; indeed, Dolly confessed
+that though she would prefer marrying Marmaduke Hogg she would rather
+be wrecked in the company of the St. Kitts boatmaster.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+                                     S.S. Diana, Sunday, January 27
+
+After breakfast, on our way to anchor at Antigua for the night, we saw
+in the distance the towering cone of Nevis, the "Gorgeous Isle" of
+Alexander Hamilton's birth and the famous scene of Lord Nelson's
+marriage. It has fallen from its proud estate of former years into
+poverty and neglect, but it is still marvelously beautiful to the eye.
+We sat on deck reading, or at least glancing drowsily over the pages
+of our books to the sapphire sea and the emerald forests of the island
+shores with a never-ceasing delight. There were three Roman Catholic
+priests on board, also four Protestant missionaries, one of them with
+a wife and a family of charming children--Samuel, Naomi, Esther,
+Daniel. Piously they were named and never once did they bring contempt
+on the Holy Scriptures! From below in a far end of the boat we could
+hear echoes of gospel hymns in some little cabin where a
+Sunday-morning service was being held.
+
+Dorothea gave a deep sigh.
+
+"It is all so peaceful, Charlotte! One day just like another and all
+beautiful and tranquil. We haven't seen anybody hurry since we left
+New York. Do you remember Rudyard Kipling saying, when he came back
+there after a long absence, that he was afraid to step slowly lest the
+man behind him should walk up his back? Nobody ever seems nervous in
+these islands. The natives can be ragged and hungry without being much
+concerned. Work never appears to be a delight to them for its own
+sake, but only as a means to get food. I feel slip--slip--slipping
+into a heavenly state of coma. Does anything ever stir the tropics
+except hurricanes and earthquakes, I wonder? How can women fight for
+suffrage in this climate? How can a man be awakened to great
+ambitions?"
+
+"Alexander Hamilton was born on Nevis and passed all his boyhood and
+youthful days on what is now our own St. Croix," I said.
+
+"Yes, but he wasn't Washington's aide-de-camp nor secretary of the
+treasury in the tropics!"
+
+"True; nevertheless, when he was Nicholas Cruger's bookkeeper at the
+age of twelve he wrote to an American friend: 'I contemn the groveling
+condition of a clerk to which my fortunes condemn me, and I would
+willingly risk my life, though not my character, to exalt my
+station.... My youth excludes me from any hope of immediate
+preferment, but I mean to prepare the way for futurity.' You see the
+yeast was stirring, even in the tropics, Dolly!"
+
+"Well, I feel no yeast stirring in me," she said languidly. "All the
+morning I have been trying to recapture a certain 'Ode to a Cow'
+written by a man of action in a country hotel where mother and I were
+sojourning last summer. I could have echoed it when I first regarded
+the inhabitants of these islands, and now anybody might say it of me,
+for I grow more and more cow-like with every passing day. It runs this
+way:
+
+
+                      "'ODE TO A CUD-CHEWING COW
+
+           "'Why, Cow, art thou so satisfied,
+           So well content with all things here below,
+           So meek, so lazy, and so awful slow?
+           Dost thou not know that men's affairs are mixed?
+           That grievously the world needs to be fixed?
+           That nothing we can do has any worth?
+           That life is care and trouble and untowardness?
+           Prit, Cow! This is no time for idleness!
+           The cud thou chewest is not what it seems.
+           Get up and moo! Tear round and quit thy dreams!'"
+
+By this time Dorothea was asleep. Her book slid to the floor, I shaded
+her face with my green umbrella, pulled down her muslin frock over her
+pretty ankles, and gave myself up to vagrant thoughts of her probable
+future.
+
+Sunday on shipboard is a good day for reflections and heart-searchings.
+My own problem, after all, is not so baffling as Dolly's. She is as
+loyal as a charming and sensible girl can be to a mother like Mrs.
+Valentine, whose soul, if the truth were told, is about the size of a
+mustard-seed. A frivolous, useless, bird-minded woman is Dolly's
+mother; a woman pecking at life as a canary pecks at its cuttlefish,
+simply to sharpen its bill. How the girl can respect her I cannot
+imagine! I suppose flesh calls to flesh and she loves her without too
+much analysis, but they seem to have come to the parting of the ways.
+It is Dolly's highest self that is in love with Marmaduke Hogg, and I
+don't believe she will sacrifice it to a maternal whim and call it
+filial obedience. Perhaps the absence that makes the heart grow
+fonder is working like a philter in this journey planned by Mrs.
+Valentine with a far different purpose.
+
+"Let her go with you, Charlotte," she begged me with tears in her
+eyes. "I must get her away from this attractive but undesirable young
+man! That absurd uncle who didn't want his name to die out must have
+been a lunatic or an imbecile. Why shouldn't such a vulgar name become
+extinct? And to think that my exquisite Dorothea--whose figure and
+eyelashes have been remarked by royalty--to think that she should be
+expected to graft herself on to that family tree of all others! To
+think that she may take that name herself and, for aught we know, add
+half a dozen more to the list; all boys, probably, who would marry in
+course of time and produce others, piling Hoggs on Hoggs, as it were!
+It is like one of those horrible endless chains that are condemned by
+the government!"
+
+I gave way to peals of laughter at this impassioned speech, evidently
+annoying Mrs. Valentine, who expected sympathy. I tried to placate her
+with reference to the poet of the name which had none but delightful
+associations in Scotland.
+
+"Then if they choose to defy me and marry each other, let them go and
+live in Scotland!" she snapped.
+
+"Would you have minded Dolly's marrying Lord Bacon?" I asked.
+
+This gave her food for thought.
+
+"No," she said reflectively, "for, of course, he was a lord, which is
+something."
+
+"But how about the associations?"
+
+"I can't explain, but somehow they are not as repulsive to me," she
+insisted. "I always think of bacon cooked, not raw, and--the other is
+alive!"
+
+As for my own difficulty, it is, after all, a conventional one. I
+cannot bear the idea of marrying my employer; a man known by sight and
+reputation to everybody in Washington, while I am a relatively unknown
+person without fortune, kith, or kin. The thought brings to mind
+sensational headlines in cheap newspapers regarding the wedding of
+some aged millionaire with his youthful stenographer, and the
+consequent alarms of his household; or the alliance of some scion of a
+wealthy house with a trained nurse of obscure lineage and vaulting
+ambition. I am all alone in the world, and though my father, who died
+when he was only five and twenty, left me but the barest support, I
+have gloried in my independence and rejoiced in my modest successes.
+
+My people on both sides were of good stock. Even the Winthrops could
+climb my family tree and find no bad fruit on it, but the world will
+say: "What a splendid match for Charlotte Clifford." ... "I wonder how
+Ellen Winthrop will take it?" ... "I shouldn't have thought Clive
+Winthrop would marry his secretary, somehow, though there's nothing
+against her; but he could look higher!"
+
+The world would be quite right. It is a splendid marriage for
+Charlotte Clifford, and Clive Winthrop could look higher. He is my
+superior and that is the reason I love him. That he loves me proves
+that there is something in me that will rise to his level. All the
+same, I wrote him when I came away that I could never cross the bridge
+between us (there is a bridge, although he does not see it) until I
+was no longer his secretary and until I was sure his sister would
+welcome me into the household that has been so harmonious and
+delightful to every human being that has ever crossed its threshold.
+Nobody could equal Ellen Winthrop as a hostess, with her fine,
+spirited face, lovely even at seventy; her gift of repartee, her
+stately manner, her simple, trailing dress, always of black or gray,
+and always reaching the floor, when most of the feminine world looks,
+in its best clothes, as if mounted on stilts, with a skimpy,
+semi-detached tail wriggling its silly length behind! I could never
+scale the heights on which the splendid Ellen perpetually dwells, but
+I could sit at the foot of them and admire with all my heart, and
+perhaps that attitude, if fully understood, might win her affection.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+                                       S.S. Diana, January 28, 1918
+
+At Antigua we anchored and took a steam launch to see the town, where
+we visited a very fine sugar-cane factory, watching the whole process
+from the cane-field to the market.
+
+We did not land at Guadeloupe, the hour not being favorable and the
+stay being too brief to compensate for the effort involved. But this
+morning at eight we approached Dominica, the largest of the Leeward
+group, the loftiest of the Lesser Antilles, and the loveliest--if one
+could or ought to make comparison--the loveliest of the West Indian
+Isles. The guidebook calls it "The Caribbean Wonderland," and Dolly
+and I were not disposed to quarrel with the phrase, after hanging over
+the deck-rail for an hour before breakfast and marveling at the beauty
+of the view. Mountains shimmered in the distance like visions seen in
+dreams, mountains like towering emeralds springing from a sapphire
+sea! We passed tiny hamlets, half-hidden in lime orchards, and
+cocoa-groves with yellow patches of cane gleaming here and there
+against a background of forest. As we drew nearer we could see white
+torrents dashing tempestuously down through green valleys, for
+Dominica has a too plenteous water-supply, since in some districts
+three hundred inches a year is the average rainfall. It rained seven
+times in the three hours that we passed on shore, but the showers were
+gentle ones, and we found generous shelter in the wonderful Botanical
+Garden, where we spent most of our time.
+
+Nature is sometimes a kindly mother; often she wears a tragic mask,
+and now and then she indulges in melodrama; but I never conceived the
+possibility of her having a sense of humor until we witnessed her
+freakish mood in the Dominica garden. There were the usual varieties
+of magnificent palms and brilliant flowering shrubs; but the joy of
+joys was the Sausage-Tree, around which we walked in helpless mirth at
+the incredible veracity of the imitation. It reached a goodly height,
+and had a splendid girth and circumference of shade; but no factory in
+Bologna or Frankfort, or any other possible birthplace of the real
+article, could rival this amazing, this funny, tree in fertility. Its
+product was just a trifle large, save for the omnivorous lover of
+sausage; but in other respects it was a faithful copy of the
+original--unless, indeed, the first sausage-maker borrowed the idea
+from the tree, instead of the other way about. These vegetable
+sausages hung in hundreds of strings and festoons and clusters from
+the topmost to the lowest branches. Because of the way they hung, the
+way they were strung, their shape and color, and the very manner in
+which the skin was neatly drawn over each one and fastened, no one
+possessing a sense of the ridiculous but would sit down under the tree
+and laugh at the joke. Oddly enough we could find no pictorial
+postcard of this phenomenon to bring home for the enlivening of winter
+evenings, though we bought a capital one of the Cannon-Ball Tree, just
+as unique in its way but not so absurd.
+
+Dorothea was enchanted with Dominica, and kept exclaiming every few
+minutes: "Oh, if only Great Britain would sell us this island! I think
+I'd choose to live in Dominica, because if I had a sausage-tree in my
+garden I should laugh every day, and the children wouldn't need any
+playthings."
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+                                       S.S. Diana, February 1, 1918
+
+We have had a glimpse of France through a day at Martinique. The
+principal feature of our visit was a wild motor-drive up an
+eighteen-hundred-foot mountain. It was a steady climb from glory to
+glory, with tropical forests on every side. Our method of progress was
+not quite serene, for there was not a sufficient number of cars to
+satisfy the demand.
+
+After a long wait Dolly and I took a small mongrel sort of motor that
+had been refused by all the Diana's passengers. The Creole driver,
+handsome, debonair, persuasive, and fluent, though unintelligible,
+assured us that he had ascended and descended the mountain hundreds of
+times, a fact only too obvious to one who examined his means of
+transportation. None of the tires matched, and two of them looked like
+wounded soldiers just home from the front, displaying patches of
+adhesive plaster and bandages of cotton and woolen rags of every
+color, with an occasional inset of an alien material into the rubber.
+One could catch a glimpse of a tin tomato-can neatly introduced in the
+place of some vital bit of machinery; a Waterbury alarm-clock figured
+in an unexpected position, apparently adding its power to the engine;
+and there were stout ropes, here and there, which I never observed
+before in the rigging of any motor.
+
+I hesitated to enter, for the future, though not absolutely certain,
+looked full of hope and promise; but Dolly was firm and reckless. I am
+ten years her senior, but still young to be called a "'fraid cat" with
+impunity; so I finally mounted the vehicle. The driver gave a gay,
+insouciant tap to a front tire, as much as to say: "Courage, mon
+enfant! C'est la dernière fois!"--then flung himself into his seat,
+and, blowing a horn, started his base-hospital up the mountain at a
+breakneck pace. The motor's own horn was out of commission, but there
+was a substitute by the driver's side. It was easy for him to blow it
+because he had no particular use for either of his hands, his steering
+being left largely to chance. Repeated expostulations in
+boarding-school French only elicited a reply that sounded like: "Soyez
+tranquilles, mesdames. You speak American? Bien! Leezy est
+parfaitement docile!"
+
+This conveyed no idea to me, although his broad grin convinced me that
+in his own opinion it was a subtle witticism. At length, however, it
+burst upon Dolly, who went off into irrepressible gales of laughter.
+
+"You have lived so continuously in a rarefied Winthrop atmosphere,
+Charlotte, that you haven't any modern vocabulary. He is telling you
+the pet name of his car, to give you confidence. Nobody ever dies in a
+tin 'Lizzie.' Not only is the machine indestructible, but the people
+that ride in it. Isn't the driver a witty, reckless darling?"
+
+He was, indeed; and, incredible as it may seem, Lizzie ascended and
+descended the mountain in safety--though only because a kind
+Providence watched over us. Then, when we had paid the reckless,
+danger-proof darling twice the sum he should have demanded, we sat on
+a bench in the Savanna, where we could be quietly grateful that we
+were alive and watch the coming and going of the Fort-de-France
+townspeople, so unmistakably French, with the bright costumes of the
+women, the pose of their turbans or hats, their sparkle and chatter
+and vivacious gestures.
+
+Here in the Savanna travelers always gather to look at the marble
+statue of the Empress Josephine, which is called the greatest work of
+art in the West Indies. That is not fatuous praise, perhaps, but the
+figure needed the hand of no master sculptor to hold the eye and
+captivate the imagination. It is mounted on a huge pedestal and is of
+heroic size, the white glitter of its marble enhanced by its truly
+magnificent setting, a circle of towering royal palms. There she
+stands, the lovely Creole woman of Martinique, forever looking at
+"Trois Islets," as if she were remembering her birth in an overseer's
+shack and her girlhood passed in a sugar-mill. Straightway the crowds
+of native men and women chaffering in the market-place, the mothers
+holding up their crowing babies to the statue, the nursemaids and
+groups of playing children, all vanished, and we re-lived in spirit
+poor Josephine's past, thrilling anew at the remembrance of her
+romance, her triumph, and her bitter sorrow--the Creole girl who
+crossed the sea to become Empress of France and share a throne with
+Napoleon, but who sailed back to her island home a brokenhearted
+woman.
+
+Good-bye, Martinique, land of Josephine; and land of St. Pierre, the
+scene of one of the greatest tragedies of modern times, when the fury
+of Mont Pelée engulfed the growth of centuries and buried forty
+thousand human creatures in its scalding lava. St. Lucia, of the
+Windward group, to-morrow, and then Barbados, from whence the Diana
+goes on to Demerara and returns a week or so later, so that we are
+able to rejoin her, taking up our former comfortable cabins and our
+much-liked captain.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+                                                     S.S. Diana
+                                      Between Barbados and New York
+                                                    February 11
+
+Here we are again on our homeward trip, making fewer landings and
+briefer stops, principally to take on passengers and thousands of
+barrels of limes.
+
+Barbados, with its charming hotel at Hastings, was an unalloyed
+delight; and Dorothea, who had determined to live in each of the
+islands as it came along, would finally have transferred her
+allegiance for good and all had it not seemed more loyal for an
+American to choose one of our own possessions and "grow up with the
+country." We found ourselves in the midst of pleasant, even
+distinguished, society--British officials, ex-governors, and
+judge-advocates of the various islands, English and Canadian soldiers
+on sick-leave, and officers commanding the U-boat chasers in near-by
+waters. Dorothea danced nightly and held court daily on the broad
+piazzas, reminding me of Rudyard Kipling's fascinating heroine in an
+Indian army post, who, whenever she appeared, caused the horizon to
+become black with majors. Her head and heart remained true to the
+absent Marmaduke--I am not so sure about her dancing feet!
+
+Now that that experience is over, with the many others, we are at sea
+and quiet again, with one tranquil day just like the other.
+
+"What a honeymoon journey it would make, Charlotte!" said Dolly one
+moonlight evening on deck. "It is so difficult to grow in knowledge of
+people in New York or Washington. One doesn't even know one's self."
+
+"All journeys must be good for honeymooners, don't you think?"
+
+"Yes, in a way; but some places are created for lovers and newlyweds,
+who are, after all, only explorers, Charlotte, forever discovering new
+lands and annexing new territories."
+
+"Yes; and sometimes falling into the hands of savages and cannibals, I
+suppose."
+
+"Yes; that must be terrible--the awakening to find that one has been
+mistaken in a man!" sighed Dolly.
+
+"I dare say we ought to worry lest men be mistaken in us; it might
+happen, you know."
+
+"Your mind is so logical, Charlotte! However, this voyage wouldn't
+have to be idealized to meet the needs of honeymooners. In a Vermont
+village where I sometimes stay I remember a girl who had to be married
+on Sunday because she could not give up her position as
+telegraph-operator till Saturday night. That was dull enough in all
+conscience, but she was married in her high-school graduating dress,
+and went to her grandmother's house, ten miles away, for her
+wedding-journey. I think it required considerable inward felicity to
+exalt that situation!"
+
+I sat upright in my steamer chair. "Dorothea," I said sharply, "you
+have been manufacturing conversation for the last five minutes--just
+killing time for fear that I should ask you questions. Is there
+anything on your mind? You have been absentminded and nervous for
+days."
+
+"Your imagination is working overtime, Charlotte," she answered. "We
+are nearing home, that is all; and life presses closer."
+
+I could not gainsay her, for every mile of ocean crossed makes my
+heart beat faster. I seem to be living just now in a sort of pause
+between my different lives. There is the heaven of my childhood in the
+vague background; then the building of my "career," if so modest a
+thing can be called by so shining a name; then the steady,
+half-conscious growth of a love that illumines my labors, yet makes
+them difficult and perplexing; and now there is a sense of suspended
+activity, of waiting, with a glimmering air-castle rising like an
+iridescent bubble out of the hazy future. Sometimes there are two
+welcoming faces at a window and sometimes the indistinct figure of a
+woman stretching out a forbidding hand, my chief's sister, who may not
+want a third person in the family!
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+                                      S.S. Diana, February 13, 1918
+
+Dolly went on the bridge this afternoon and stayed a half-hour with
+the captain, giving no reason save that she liked to talk with him,
+which seemed plausible, but did not satisfy me. At bedtime I
+discovered her unpacking and laying out in her upper berth a dazzling
+toilet for our landing at St. Thomas to-morrow. She blushed when I
+looked in upon her.
+
+"Do dress 'up to me,' Charlotte," she coaxed. "I don't want to be
+conspicuous. Wear your gray georgette and the broad hat with the
+roses."
+
+"Why this sudden display of vanity and good clothes?"
+
+"Hasn't your letter of introduction to Governor Oliver brought us an
+invitation to luncheon at Government House?"
+
+"Yes; but I don't suppose it is a banquet."
+
+"Charlotte, I must confide in you."
+
+"I should think it was about time."
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"I have known for days that you were concealing something."
+
+"I didn't want to be secretive, but I thought it was only fair to you
+to keep my own counsel. Now you can report to mother that you knew
+nothing, and that therefore you couldn't interfere."
+
+"But what have you done? You can't be secretly married--with your
+chosen man in Washington and you on the vasty deep."
+
+"No; but I'm next door to it."
+
+"What do you mean by 'next door'? Have you a groom and a minister
+waiting on the New York dock?"
+
+"No; mother will be there, but I fear she won't bring a minister. I'm
+so glad you imagined something far, far worse than I ever intended. It
+shows that you are more audacious than I--though nobody would believe
+it."
+
+"I don't like your tone; but go on."
+
+"I've been communicating rather frequently with Duke."
+
+"So I fancied, from your changing money at every stop and doing
+continual sums on paper."
+
+"It has made me a pauper--this telegraphing in war-time. The messages
+go by Jamaica or Porto Rico or Trinidad or Bermuda and lots of other
+islands, and I think some of the messages must be personally conducted
+straight to New York by powerful swimmers, judging by the cost."
+
+"Go on. Don't temporize."
+
+"I needn't repeat all of them, and in fact I haven't copies. Duke,
+after he had my first telegram from St. Thomas, wired back to St.
+Croix, '_You are willing to take my name. Why, after all, shouldn't I
+refuse your sacrifice and make one of my own by taking yours?_' Wasn't
+that noble?"
+
+"It would have softened the heart of a suffragette or a feminist. What
+did you reply?"
+
+"I said: '_Never in the world!_'"
+
+"'Never' would have been enough. You wasted three words at a dollar or
+so apiece."
+
+"I wanted to be strong. I said: '_Never in the world! I am not going
+to have you criticized and nagged and made unhappy, as if your name
+were a crime!_' Then he wired: '_But it would remove objections, and
+cost only six thousand a year._' I had to wait two whole days and
+nights before I could cable: '_Objector will surely meet me in New
+York. She will probably forgive if we are both firm. My mind is made
+up. I would rather be a you-know-what than remain a Valentine._'"
+
+"That was strong enough."
+
+"I meant it to be. He has been scurrilously treated, and somebody must
+stand by him. Now, to-morrow, February 14th, is his birthday. I
+remember it because we met on St. Valentine's day, and it wasn't many
+hours afterward that I guessed how he felt about me."
+
+"Dorothea! Do you mean to tell me that a man spoke to you of his
+feelings within twenty-four hours of the time you met?"
+
+"No, I do not."
+
+"You certainly intimated as much. If it wasn't many hours after you
+met on the 14th it must have been on the 15th."
+
+"No, you are wrong, Charlotte. It was the evening of the same day. We
+met in the early morning."
+
+"It sounds like a children's party with an exchange of those
+snapping-mottoes."
+
+"Duke is nearly twenty-eight, you know, Charlotte; so it is simply
+nonsense to jeer at him. You ought to be able to imagine what sort of
+things would be said between two persons mutually attracted to each
+other--when you remember that he was born on February 14th and my name
+is Valentine. The coincidence simply put ideas into our heads; but I
+won't go on if you don't sympathize."
+
+"I don't actually disapprove, not at heart. Now, what has his birthday
+got to do with to-morrow and St. Thomas?"
+
+"Why, I cabled him as soon as we arrived at Barbados: '_What would you
+like for a birthday present from the West Indies?_' I knew that he
+would remember we met on St. Valentine's day and an answer could reach
+me at St. Thomas."
+
+"Couldn't you buy him a souvenir without inquiring at great expense
+what he'd prefer?"
+
+"Ye-es; but I thought it was a nice, affectionate question."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"Well, he cabled one word, Charlotte."
+
+"I guessed that the moment you quoted your message. When you asked:
+'_What shall I bring you from the West Indies?_' Duke promptly
+answered, '_Yourself._'"
+
+"Charlotte, you are positively uncanny! How did you manage to hit upon
+it?"
+
+"It doesn't take as much intellect as you fancy. You are as
+transparent as a plate of glass. Well, when he said '_Yourself_,' how
+did you answer him?"
+
+"It's the only thing I don't like to tell you, but I must. I reflected
+a full half-hour at Barbados. It was one of those heavenly moonlight
+nights not suitable for reflection. Then I wrote a message and sent it
+to the office by one of the colored waiters so that the hotel people
+shouldn't read it. It said" (and here she turned her face away from
+me): "'_Deliveries from the West Indies are uncertain and expensive;
+come and get me._'--Do you think that was forward?"
+
+I laughed irresistibly and a long time. "It certainly was not
+backward, but it was delicious," I said at length, wiping the tears
+from my eyes. "However, he seems as impetuous and tempestuous as you,
+so perhaps it doesn't matter."
+
+"You see, Charlotte, I knew that probably he couldn't meet this boat
+to save his life, so I was willing to say, '_Come and get me_,' just
+for fun. I hadn't the slightest clue as to when he would receive my
+message or the sailing dates of steamers from New York, everything is
+so changed in war-times. I know only that the time is slipping away,
+and Duke may leave the Shipping Board at any moment for the
+training-camp. I intend to have one brief, straightforward talk with
+mother, and declare my purpose. We are going to get your Mr. Winthrop
+to intercede for us, too. I shall be of age in March, and I don't
+intend to let a mere name stand between me and happiness."
+
+"I think you are right, and that your mother will finally agree with
+you; but I still don't see the need of an unusual toilet for
+to-morrow."
+
+"It's for the Governor," said Dolly, "and one never knows what may
+happen."
+
+"If a bromidic remark may also be cryptic, Dorothea, you have achieved
+the combination. Now I must ask you a direct question, for, although I
+am not your keeper, but your friend, I am not disposed to let you do
+anything reckless. Why did you put that idea into Duke's head--the
+idea of meeting you in St. Thomas?"
+
+"I wanted to talk things over before seeing mother. I knew I could
+trust him. He has some elderly cousins and a sister-in-law; surely,
+between them, he could find somebody to bring along with him; and I
+have you, safest and wisest of Charlottes! Duke is one of the legal
+advisers of the Shipping Board. Why shouldn't he have business in
+these islands? Besides, it is a practical impossibility that he should
+be able to reach St. Thomas on a given date."
+
+"Then why did you suggest it?"
+
+"I think, Charlotte, it must have been empty-mindedness."
+
+"I regard it as a pure lack of self-control."
+
+"I've practiced self-control for one whole, endless year."
+
+"You have practiced filial obedience, I grant that. But what good do
+you expect to achieve if Duke does surmount the insurmountable and
+meet you to-morrow?"
+
+"What good?" Dolly almost shrieked the question. "What good, do you
+ask? You callous, cold-hearted Charlotte! Why, four heavenly days
+spent in his society, to be sure--with you and his chaperon having a
+lovely time together somewhere not too near."
+
+"And you haven't any sneaking idea of marrying him in St. Thomas?
+Because I won't allow it."
+
+"No such luck! He wouldn't let me, unless mother's attitude has been
+miraculously changed."
+
+"Well, I can only say that you have made me very nervous and
+uncomfortable, Dolly," and I prepared to leave her cabin and cross the
+narrow space that divided it from mine.
+
+"Darling Charlotte!" Here she drew me back. "If you are nervous and
+uncomfortable, it seems that you think there's a bare chance that Duke
+will be in St. Thomas."
+
+"I know nothing about the possibilities," I replied. "He might
+persuade the Shipping Board that he could be of use in this vicinity,
+and, of course, he would have advantages not possessed by ordinary
+tourists."
+
+"If you had had any experience with shipping boards, Charlotte, you
+would know that they can only be moved by chloroform or dynamite.
+Besides, Duke would never do anything underhanded; he is too
+patriotic; though, of course, he is inventive."
+
+"Of course! And inventiveness is only one of his gifts, while his
+virtues are those of Sir Galahad, King Arthur, Marcus Aurelius,
+Abraham Lincoln, and a few others."
+
+"Charlotte, I don't want to seem harsh, but I hope some time you will
+get a faint inkling of what love really is. Your heart reminds me of
+the Rock of Gibraltar!"
+
+"One doesn't wear the Rock of Gibraltar on one's sleeve, at all
+events," I remarked.
+
+"Do you mean that if you ever did have a love-affair you wouldn't
+confide in me, when I adore you so, Charlotte?"
+
+"I mean something of the sort, my child." At which she made a feint of
+beating me with her little silver hair-brush, but ended in kissing my
+cheek and whispering: "Good-night! You are a darling, even if you have
+no sentiment."
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+Morning came. We anchored outside St. Croix at five o'clock; went
+through medical inspection at six, and if there was anything the
+matter with Dolly's heart or mine the physician did not offer any
+comment. Then about ten we approached St. Thomas for the second time.
+
+If the Virgin Islands looked beautiful when we first saw them, they
+had grown in beauty during our brief absence, and my birthplace, in
+the shining distance, was a very dream of loveliness. We saw its
+outline rising above a rim of azure sea, with the mountains of Porto
+Rico standing out to the westward. The great palm groves on the shore
+led the eye upward to the green hills and the clouds topping the
+higher peaks. Gayly painted boats began to come near the Diana, and
+naked diving boys, slender shapes of brown mahogany, plunged into the
+sea to catch our pennies. Then we saw the red roofs of Charlotte
+Amalia, the little park near the landing, and the pink, toy-like
+fortress with the Stars and Stripes floating over it.
+
+Dorothea and I stood near the deck-rail, her hand in mine. In her
+white dress, her broad hat wreathed with corn-flowers, and a scarlet
+sunshade, she looked a youthful Columbia, so radiant and bewitching
+that for the first time I secretly hoped Marmaduke Hogg might triumph
+over the obstacles in the way and come to meet his ladylove, although
+I saw many embarrassing and awkward situations arising from such a
+meeting. I could not be jealous of so bright and joyous a creature,
+and anyway my own happiness was only a few days distant, if I chose to
+put out my arms and take it.
+
+There seemed to be a crowd on the dock, which was made most
+unattractive by a colossal mountain of coal that concealed everything
+behind it. The Diana made a slow approach, but we finally passed the
+coal-heap and came within thirty feet of the shore. I could feel
+Dolly's heart beat through her pulse that lay under my hand. Then
+suddenly her quick eyes searched the outer edge of the crowd and found
+the shape they were looking for.
+
+"I think I see him! I think I am going to faint, for I didn't really
+expect him! Yes; I know it is he, though he is wearing summer clothes
+that I never saw before. Look, Charlotte! Away back near that grove of
+cocoanut-trees! He's with other people--I knew he would find somebody!
+Give me the glasses. There's an elderly man in a Panama hat, and two
+ladies, and--why, Charlotte, take the glasses yourself. It can't be,
+but it looks like your Winthrop!"
+
+My hand trembled so that I could hardly hold the glass. I could
+scarcely believe Dolly's eyes or my own; but the Diana crept nearer,
+and it was true! Inch by inch the picture grew clearer, and then a
+pathetic surprise met my gaze.
+
+I could see Clive plainly now, and felt that he was searching the line
+of passengers on the Diana's deck to find me. My heart gave a furious
+leap to think that a man like my chief would look for only one woman's
+face in that crowd, and regard it, with all its blemishes, as a
+precious thing.
+
+Duke had separated himself from the little group and was swinging his
+hat to Dorothea; but I could not explain why the two men were not
+standing nearer together and what was the meaning of the wheeled
+chair, with the nurse's head rising above the back. The identity of
+the person in the chair was hidden by a tiny black frilled parasol
+with a handle bent in the middle so that it could be used for a
+shield. Did I know that little old-fashioned sunshade? I did! It was
+the property of some one whose belongings had a certain air of
+difference from those of other people. She lifted it at last, as we
+came close to the dock, and I met Ellen Winthrop's affectionate,
+welcoming glance. Her eyes swam in unshed tears, and mine were so wet
+I could see only dimly that her beautiful hair was a shade whiter, her
+face paler and thinner, that she had aged mysteriously in a month, and
+the hand that was holding the parasol trembled like a leaf. She had
+been very ill; there was no doubt of that. She had been ordered a
+voyage, and I felt that she had chosen this one because she knew
+Clive's wish. That meant she was willing to welcome me into the heart
+of the family; perhaps even that she wished to help me fit myself to
+take her own unique place in her brother's life. Oh, what joy to feel
+that I could not only take freely all that my chief wanted to give me,
+but that I could be of real service to her!
+
+Down the precipitous landing-steps we went, Dolly, as usual, well in
+the front. Clive and Duke were at the foot awaiting us, and, as we
+felt a sense of safety in the midst of strangers, Dolly flung herself
+at once into Duke's arms, while all the male watchers on deck or dock
+gazed at him with envy. Finding myself unobserved in this spectacular
+tableau, I could give Clive my own greeting as my heart dictated,
+while I told him that his sister's presence answered my last doubt.
+
+When Dolly withdrew from the embrace of her adoring swain--rosy,
+joyous, unabashed--she adjusted her hat from its perilous position on
+one side of her head, and gazed upon Clive and me with unflattering
+astonishment mixed with awe.
+
+"You, too, perfidious Charlotte! You needn't deny it; I saw you
+both--just finishing!"
+
+"Not at all, Miss Valentine," laughed Clive, putting out his hand to
+shake hers. "We were, in fact, only just beginning."
+
+"And to think I never suspected, when I might have known that you are
+the only man in the world learned enough and good enough for
+Charlotte."
+
+"You were too absorbed in your own affairs to think about mine,
+missy," I said. "Now, will you be modest and grateful for the rest of
+your life, since you see that my Mr. Winthrop has brought your young
+man to St. Thomas in a discreet manner that you never could have
+achieved by yourself? Take me to your sister, Clive; I want her to
+know without a moment's delay how I appreciate her coming with you."
+
+"She has been terribly ill, Charlotte. For ten days after you left it
+was almost hopeless, but at length she rallied, and since the doctor
+insisted on a change of climate her whole heart was bent on coming
+here. She has long suspected our feeling for each other, and you will
+be such a joy to her as well as to me, my dear."
+
+"It makes me so happy, so happy!" I faltered, my eyes swimming with
+tears. "I was so unwilling to take all and give so little--now it will
+be more!"
+
+"Don't go off by yourselves," said Dolly. "Be dignified and
+indifferent, like us. Take Mr. Winthrop's arm and I'll take Duke's."
+(Here she suited the action to the word.) "There's the Governor,
+expecting us to luncheon and not knowing us by sight. He won't suspect
+what has happened; but after saluting him and asking him to put some
+more plates on the table, we'll all walk up to Miss Winthrop's chair,
+and you and I will say: 'Good-morning, dear lady. Let us introduce to
+you "our new possessions," our spoils of travel, our souvenirs of a
+sea-voyage.' Then Duke and Mr. Winthrop will make a profound
+obeisance, and all will be over."
+
+And so it turned out! Everybody laughed and chatted; Dorothea kissed
+Ellen Winthrop's hand prettily, coquetted with Clive, and began to lay
+siege to the nurse's heart, while she riveted the chains by which she
+held Marmaduke Hogg in bondage. She was in high spirits, but she was
+distinctly nervous, and whenever she introduced her fiancé to one of
+her fellow voyagers she showed a heightened color as she slid quickly
+over his surname.
+
+Presently Clive withdrew a little distance to talk with the Governor's
+secretary, and Dorothea caught the captain on his way from the ship
+and entangled him in a merry conversation with Miss Winthrop. This
+gave Marmaduke an opportunity to take me aside. I suspected that he
+wanted to confide in me that Mrs. Valentine had made one last
+determined refusal to receive him as a son-in-law, and that after the
+next few days of sea-voyaging we should meet an irate parent at the
+landing in New York and that there would be metaphorical "wigs on the
+green."
+
+I confess in that moment, as I envisaged the recalcitrant Dolly locked
+in her room and fed upon bread and water, that I wished Mr. Marmaduke
+Hogg had remained in Washington, which is the scene of so many battles
+that one more or less would not be obvious on the horizon. On the
+contrary, his first words were a surprise.
+
+"Miss Clifford," he said, "no one knows what Dolly and I owe to you!"
+
+"But what have I done?" I inquired laughingly.
+
+"Oh, a thousand things! Taken my part gently and kindly with Mrs.
+Valentine; and above all, allowed Dolly to come on this journey with
+you, when she was so utterly confused by her mother's objections to
+our marriage that she did not know which way to turn.--It's rather a
+big job for a girl to decide whether she'll break her mother's heart,
+or her lover's!"
+
+"Mrs. Valentine has no heart, save in the physiological sense," I
+interrupted.
+
+"Well, I have cut the Gordian knot," continued Marmaduke. "I don't
+want Dolly to know just at first, but I have set plans in motion for
+changing my name back to Forrest!"
+
+"But you lose six thousand dollars a year!" I exclaimed.
+
+"It doesn't matter. I am offered a New York partnership when the war
+is over and it won't be very long before I make it up."
+
+"And what about your dear old uncle?"
+
+"That hurts me, I confess. But I think if departed spirits know
+nothing of our doings, it doesn't matter, and if they know everything,
+uncle must have kept an eye on Mrs. Valentine and will understand."
+
+"I never thought of leaving the whole matter to 'uncle,'" I observed.
+
+"I'm not shifting the responsibility; I'm simply counting on him. I
+always counted on him and he always trusted me. If I could get him on
+a spiritual long-distance telephone, he would see that I cannot part
+an only daughter from her only mother."
+
+"Yes, I've often thought only children were a mistake; they bulk too
+heavily in the foreground. Where there are six, each one cannot take
+up so much room."
+
+"Exactly. You see we've got to go to her mother's to dinner every
+other Sunday when our cook's out. I've learned that much about
+matrimony in advance."
+
+"Perhaps you won't be invited!"
+
+"Well, that would be even worse. Besides, she has given up her
+apartment and leased a charming house."
+
+"Does she think that you and Dolly are to live with her?"
+
+"If she does she is mistaken, but to do her justice I don't believe
+that's her idea at all. However, she is all settled and awaiting
+Dorothea. The house is going to be a surprise."
+
+"Dolly will like it; the apartment didn't suit her taste."
+
+"A pompous butler is installed. I discovered all this when I went to
+call, and conscientiously told her I was going to St. Thomas with the
+Winthrops. He is elderly, of course, as all the middle-aged and young
+butlers are in khaki; and wonderful to relate, there is also an aged
+but well-preserved footman. He dwells on the lower floor, and
+communicates with the butler on the floor above, where the drawing-
+and dining-rooms are, by means of a speaking-tube. The moment the
+footman approached me with his 'What name, sir?' and bawled 'MR.
+HOGG!' through the tube, the butler repeating it resonantly to the
+boudoir where Mrs. Valentine was sitting; at that moment I knew why
+she had taken the house. It was for the speaking-tubes! I have never
+before seen a small house in Washington with these annunciators. The
+butler and footman were engaged for the same purpose, that of bawling
+'MR. HOGG' whenever I called upon Dolly. After my interview with Mrs.
+Valentine, which was placid, for she thanked me coldly for telling her
+of my proposed journey and said she should go herself, but imagined
+that the steamers were small and uncomfortable, and the food
+villainous; however, we would talk the whole matter over in New York
+and come to some decision; she then went to the speaking-tube and
+called, 'Brown! Ask Jenkins to show Mr. Hogg out, please!'
+
+"I left the lady and went at once to Clive Winthrop for advice and
+began the process of amputating my surname. Perhaps I shall not call
+at the X Street house till the wedding is over, and when the footman
+asks: 'What name, sir?' I shall say: 'My bachelor name, as you may
+remember, was Hogg, but I am now married and it is Forrest!'"
+
+
+
+
+PHILIPPA'S NERVOUS PROSTRATION
+
+
+A STUDY IN NOBLENESS
+
+                                           Stanwood Sanitarium,
+                                          Mapleton, Pennsylvania,
+                                                          June,19--
+
+FIRST WEEK
+
+                                                             Monday
+
+The door has just closed behind one of the most eminent physicians in
+the State, and I am no longer Philippa Armstrong, but a case of
+neurasthenia, an inmate of Room Number 17, which has a yellow placard
+over its entrance; a placard announcing that no callers are allowed
+within, save with the special permission of Dr. Levi Stanwood. At
+present the placard is the only thing I enjoy about the institution;
+that, at least, promises peace; at all events, such peace as can be
+found outside of one's own soul.
+
+I am counseled to have complete rest, cheerful surroundings,
+abstinence from newspapers and letters, sound sleep, careful and
+nourishing diet, freedom from anxiety, gentle tonics, with electrical
+and other treatments underlined upon a printed list.
+
+The head physician (who is a genius in the way of diagnosis, seeing
+through the human system as if it were plate glass) has made a careful
+study of my symptoms and written my Cousin Sarah that all I need is
+six or eight weeks of his care to be quite myself again.
+
+How little they understand us women, after all--poor, blind,
+unsuspicious doctors! My heart-beats, my color, my temperature, my
+pulse, my blood pressure, even my tongue, all these have told no tales
+to the scientific eye, and as it was literally impossible for Dr.
+Stanwood to discern my malady, it was equally beyond him to suggest a
+remedy. As a matter of fact, all I need to make and keep me well is
+large and constant doses of Richard Morton, Esq., of Baltimore; but
+who would confess that to a doctor?
+
+Cousin Sarah does not suspect the state of things, the gentleman
+himself is, I trust, quite ignorant, and the doctor will waste upon me
+all the wealth of curative agencies at his command without effecting
+the least change in my condition.
+
+Richard Morton is an orphan; so am I. He is young, strong,
+good-looking, clever, and poor. I am the first, second, and fifth; as
+to one's own beauty and cleverness it is difficult to speak
+impartially.
+
+I have thought for nearly six months, and indeed I am still inclined
+to think, that Richard Morton loves me, and I was equally certain,
+until a few weeks ago, that he was only awaiting a suitable
+opportunity to declare his love and ask me to marry him. I had made up
+my mind, whenever he should put the important question, to answer him
+frankly and joyously in the affirmative; not because he is the
+handsomest or most brilliant or most desirable person in the world,
+but because for sheer lovableness and husbandliness he is unsurpassed
+and unsurpassable.
+
+In March Cousin Sarah made a visit to Germantown and met there a Mrs.
+Taunton, Richard Morton's widowed aunt. When the intimacy had
+progressed sufficiently Mrs. Taunton told Cousin Sarah one day that
+she hoped her nephew would eventually marry a certain Amy Darling, a
+near neighbor of hers; that Miss Darling's father and Richard's had
+been friends from boyhood; and that they had always planned a marriage
+between the two young people, each an only child.
+
+Of course, Mr. Darling, who died only this winter, did not indulge in
+any such melodramatic or bookish nonsense as setting down commands or
+desires in his will, nor were any of his bequests dependent upon them.
+He did talk with his daughter, however, during his last illness, and
+he did leave Richard Morton a letter expressing his regard and
+confidence, and saying that as his daughter was entirely without
+relatives he should have felt much happier had he seen her married
+before his death. If he had stopped there all would have been well,
+but he went on. He knew, he said, that Amy was one of the sweetest and
+most attractive girls in the world, and if a mutual affection should
+grow out of her acquaintance with Richard he would be glad to know
+that the fortune he had made by his own energy might be a basis for
+the future prosperity and business success of his old friend's son.
+
+Cousin Sarah came home from Germantown quite excited by this romance
+and discussed it with me daily, in exasperating unconsciousness that I
+could feel the least distaste for the subject.
+
+"It seems almost providential, Philippa," she said, over her
+knitting.
+
+"Providential for which of them?" I asked, stabbing my sheet of music
+paper with the pen, while I tried in vain to think how many eighth
+notes would fill a measure.
+
+"For both; though I was really thinking of Mr. Morton. His business is
+one that peculiarly requires capital; then again he has many interests
+in Philadelphia, and there is that beautiful place in Germantown with
+house, stable, horses, and gardens all ready for him."
+
+"And the girl, too; don't forget her," I responded. "Though some men
+don't care for these ready-to-wear wives; they prefer to look about
+and to choose."
+
+"He would have to look a long distance before he found any one to
+compare with Miss Darling, either in beauty or suitableness," said
+Cousin Sarah, thereby injecting the first drop of poison in my blood
+and starting me on the downward path toward nervous prostration.
+
+"Miss Darling is a man's woman," she continued, unconsciously giving
+me another push; "the type with which neither you nor I have anything
+in common, but which we know to be irresistible."
+
+Now Cousin Sarah is fifty-five, thin, angular, erect, uncompromising.
+I love and respect her, but do not care to be lumped with her in
+affairs of the heart, at least not for thirty years to come; and
+although I think it is disgusting to be labeled a "man's woman" it is
+insufferable to be told that one is _not_!
+
+"I can see Amy Darling in my mind's eye," I ventured; "blonde, dimply,
+fluffy as to head, willowy as to figure so as to cling the better,
+blue eyes swimming in unshed tears, and a manner so exquisitely
+feminine that she makes all the other women in her vicinity appear
+independent and mannish. But not all men care for pets, Cousin
+Sarah--some of them prefer companions."
+
+"A pet _is_ a companion," remarked Cousin Sarah casually as she left
+the room, giving me thereby an entirely new and most unpleasant
+thought.
+
+I have known Richard Morton for many months, and although I have met
+him very often at other places, he has been a constant visitor at our
+house. If he has had any resemblance to a possible suitor why hasn't
+Cousin Sarah discovered it? Is _she_ deaf and blind, or have my ears
+and eyes played me false? Am I so undesirable that it would never
+cross her mind that a man might fall in love with me? Hardly, for she
+is well aware that several men have expressed their willingness to
+annex my poverty-stricken charms.
+
+As I look back upon the weeks that followed the interview with Cousin
+Sarah I see that Richard was never the same after he received Mr.
+Darling's letter. I felt a nameless difference. It was not only that I
+saw him less frequently, but that he gave me less of himself when I
+did see him. I, too, was on guard and never succeeded in being quite
+natural. I am not so foolish as to give up to another girl a man who
+loves me, simply because she is rich. The thought that worries me
+night and day is this: if at the moment he only feels for me
+friendship, ought I to let it grow into love when there is another
+woman who could give him with herself everything he needs to assure
+his career? With Philippa Armstrong for a wife he will have to work
+unceasingly, and unless fortune is particularly kind he may not
+achieve a large success for many years. If he marries Amy Darling
+(soft, silly, spineless little name!) he has house, lands, and money,
+all the influence of her father's former business associates, and has,
+besides, carried out his own father's wishes.
+
+This is considerable; quite enough to make a man reflect and
+vacillate, unless he is so deeply in love already that no temptation
+is strong enough to assail him.
+
+Richard Morton, I know, likes to dance with me, sing with me, golf
+with me, talk with me, consult with me about his affairs, write
+letters to me; and more than that, he doesn't like to have other men
+usurp these privileges; but I am not prepared to say that he would
+pine away if circumstances removed me altogether from his path. At any
+rate, these perplexities have been too much for my peace of mind, and
+when Richard Morton announced that he had business which would keep
+him in Philadelphia for a month I began to feel physically ill and
+unable to bear Cousin Sarah's sympathy, her curiosity, even at last
+her proximity. When the doctor advised my coming here to this quiet,
+restful place I eagerly embraced the opportunity simply because I
+could be alone, and because I need not meet Richard until he had
+enjoyed a full month of Amy Darling's society, either succumbing to
+its fascination or resisting it, as the case might be.
+
+Would it be nobler of me to give him up before he is really mine,
+knowing that in this way I am advancing his worldly interests? This is
+the question that I hope solitude will help me to answer, but its
+complications and side-issues are so many that I feel dazed by their
+number and their difficulty. I went to sleep last night echoing the
+old negro's prayer: "Thou knowest what's about right, Lord. Now do
+it!"
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+                                                            Tuesday
+
+8 A.M.--Nurse gives me an alcohol bath.
+
+8.30--She takes my pulse and temperature and enters them in the
+Bedside Record Book, afterwards reading me my diet-list. It seems I do
+not belong to the favored class, which, to be cured, is stuffed with
+pleasant things to eat; my symptoms demand a simple, unexciting bill
+of fare.
+
+9 o'clock--Breakfast.
+
+Fruit in season.
+
+(This is its only name, but everybody knows it
+by sight.)
+
+Poweretta Grits with Cream.
+Graham Muffins.
+Wheatoata Process Coffee.
+
+10.30--Hot fomentations.
+
+11.15--Drop of blood extracted from ear and subjected to examination.
+
+11.30--Glass of Certified Milk.
+
+12--Visit from physician.
+
+1--Dinner.
+
+Barley Broth.
+Lamb Chop--Hominy or Rice.
+Bread-and-butter Pudding
+Custard Sauce.
+
+2 to 3--Silent hour.
+
+3.30--Static electricity.
+
+4.15--Weight taken.
+
+4.30--Cold pack.
+
+5--Cup of Predigested Maltese Milk.
+
+5.30--Visit from head nurse.
+
+6.30--Supper.
+
+Cornetta Mush.
+Poached Egg on Whole-Wheat Toast.
+Sterilized Stewed Apples--Zephyrettes.
+Cup of Somnolina.
+(A beverage from which everything pleasant and
+harmful has been extracted by a beneficent process.)
+
+7.30--Miss Blossom, the nurse, insists on reading to me. It is not a
+good performance but it doesn't matter. I know that Dick and Amy
+Darling are just starting for the theater.
+
+8.30--Tepid sponge bath.
+
+9--Massage.
+
+9.30--Glass of peptonized water.
+
+9.45--Temperature and pulse taken.
+
+10--Lights out.
+
+Never in all my twenty-five years of life have I passed a busier or
+more exhausting day.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+                                                          Wednesday
+
+Precisely like Tuesday save for some new experiences in diet. There
+was a mild process-drink called Cocoatina; Teaette also made its
+appearance. There were dolls' mattresses of shredded excelsior
+moistened with milk; nut salad, and Grahamata mush. I could never have
+supposed so many new cereals could be invented.
+
+          There is mush in the evening, mush in the morning,
+          Mush when it's looked for and mush without warning.
+
+It is rather like the immortal "Charge of the Light Brigade":
+
+             Oats to the right of them,
+             Corn to the left of them,
+             Wheat to the north of them,
+             Grits to the south of them,
+             Into the Valley of Mush rode the two hundred.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+                                                           Thursday
+
+I was allowed to sit on my balcony for an hour this morning. This
+would have been a pleasant change had I not heartily disliked at first
+sight my next-door neighbor who was sitting on the adjoining balcony.
+At noon she sent me a bunch of pansies and her card: Mrs. Grosvenor
+Chittenden-Ffollette.
+
+Among fifty or sixty attendants there are always a few who gossip in
+spite of repeated warnings from the authorities. Sometimes it is a
+young nurse, sometimes a masseuse, a manicure or a shampooer, but
+there are always those who retail the news, mostly innocent news, of
+an institution like this. Cold-packing, or rubbing, or spraying, or
+electrifying, or brushing, or polishing--all these operations open the
+flood-gates of speech and no damming process is effectual. Miss Phoebe
+Blossom is the herald who proclaims tidings of various kinds in my
+room, and there is also a neophyte in the electricity department who
+is always full of information and quite unable to retain it. It would
+be almost more than human to ask them to be silent when they are the
+only links with the world outside. A system reduced to nothingness by
+a supper of Wheatoata Coffee, Cracker-dust Croquettes, Cosmos with
+milk, and a choice of Cerealina, Nuttetta, Proteinetta, or Glucosa is
+in no fit state to resist gossip.
+
+It seems that Mrs. Chittenden-Ffollette is more than a mere woman--she
+is a remarkable "case," and has proved a worldwide advertisement for
+this sanitarium. Dr. Stanwood has almost effected a cure; her disease
+has had to be named and her symptoms have been written up in all the
+medical journals. I don't know what sort of person she was before she
+became a case, but she is now a greater tyrant than Caligula or
+Catherine of Russia. As to her disease, she has those things that she
+ought not to have, and she has not those things that she ought to
+have, and there is no health in her; or at least there was not until
+she came here a year ago. Now she is strong enough to perambulate in
+the corridor a little while each morning or be wheeled along the
+board-walk in the afternoon, and when she hears that some of the other
+patients are suffering, she sneers at their modest, uninteresting
+ailments and glances in at their doors with half-disguised contempt.
+You know the expression of the prize dog who is borne from the show
+hung with medals and ribbons--how he gazes on the little mongrel curs
+that gather with the crowd in the streets?
+
+Her name, Chittenden-Ffollette, is of as vital importance as her
+medical-journal malady. When the third floor is in dire confusion; when
+Mrs. Parks has hysterics and Miss Simmons is crying for her mother, and
+Mrs. Bell's hot-water bottle has burst in the bed, and Miss Phipps has
+discovered that the undergraduate has bandaged the wrong ankle, Miss
+Blossom sometimes becomes flustered and hurried and calls her patient
+Mrs. Follett, whereupon she says, "_Chittenden_-Ffoll_ette, if_ you
+please!"
+
+If by any chance she sees the Chittenden-Ffollette without the hyphen
+in the Nurses' Bedside Record Book or scribbled on the morning paper
+she doesn't need any stimulant the rest of the day. The omission of
+the hyphen sends up her pulse and temperature to the required point
+for several hours, though there is always a reaction afterward. I've
+told Dr. Levi that I should name one of her complaints hyphenitis. The
+occasional operation performed on the hyphen by Miss Blossom, or the
+young lady at the stationery counter, might be called hyphenotomy.
+Everybody detests Mrs. Chittenden-Ffollette, but as the banner patient
+of the sanitarium she must be treated with respectful consideration.
+All America's most skillful physicians have struggled with her
+organism. They have tried to get her symptoms into line, so to speak,
+so as to deduce some theory from the grand array of phenomena, but the
+symptoms courteously decline to point in any one direction. When the
+doctors get seven eighths of them in satisfactory relation there are
+always two or three that stay out and sulk, refusing to collaborate in
+any sort of harmony. They act precisely like an obstinate jury, in
+that they calmly refuse to agree, and then Mrs. Chittenden-Ffollette
+appeals to a higher court where flaws in the testimony are always
+found, judgment is reversed, and a new trial ordered. The greatest
+surgeons in Europe have left the bedsides of crowned heads to ponder
+over her inscrutable mysteries, and have returned to their sovereigns
+crushed and humbled. All this attention would have upset a stronger
+character than hers, and now that she is in a fair way to recover, her
+pride will have its inevitable fall. Though much more agreeable and
+docile than when she entered, she is in uniformly low spirits. The
+truth is, she liked being an unsolved mystery and she is a good deal
+nettled at being found at last both soluble and curable--obliged to
+live, like an ex-president, on the glories of the past.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+                                                             Friday
+
+Buckle, in his "History of Civilization," claims that men and women
+are divided into three classes. The first and lowest talks of persons,
+the second of things, and the third and highest, of ideas. I should
+divide the human race into four, instead of three classes, and name as
+the lowest those persons who discuss their symptoms. The patients here
+are counseled not to do it, so the vice is reduced to a minimum, being
+practiced, say, not more than three out of the fourteen waking hours.
+
+Swinging in a hammock in a shady nook this afternoon the conversation
+that floated to me under my distant tree was somewhat after this
+fashion.
+
+Mrs. A. "Once I had neurasthenia. For three months I couldn't be moved
+in bed, and for nine weeks I couldn't turn my head on the pillow."
+
+_Mrs. B._ } "Mercy!"
+_Mrs. C._ } "Oh, Mrs. A.!"
+_Mrs. D._ } "Good gracious!"
+
+Mrs. E. "Cerebro-spinal meningitis is worse than neurasthenia. I had
+it four years ago, and the doctor said he'd never seen a woman live
+that was as ill as I was. One night my temperature was 167."
+
+_Mrs. C._ } "Goodness!"
+_Mrs. B._ } "That's pretty high!"
+_Mrs. A._ } "Are you sure?"
+
+Mrs. E. "Yes, I'm perfectly sure, or at least I think I am; I am
+seldom wrong on figures."
+
+Mrs. A. "I asked, because I've noticed here that the thermometers
+register only 110, and I wondered how they measured the temperature
+when it rose above that point."
+
+Mrs. E. (huffily). "Probably they have extra long thermometers for
+extreme cases."
+
+Mrs. F. "I am glad that in this sanitarium they take the temperature
+by tucking the barometer-thing under the arm. My doctor at home always
+puts it under the tongue, and it is a perfect nuisance. He never gets
+it well placed but that I think of something I want to say. Then, of
+course, I have to keep still for three minutes, which seem three
+hundred, and by that time I have either forgotten it or changed my
+mind, so there I am!"
+
+Mrs. G. "Just after my youngest child was three years old--"
+
+Mrs. F. (interrupting). "I was going to say, when Mrs. E. spoke about
+the barometer, that after I was engaged to Mr. F. I had a dreadful
+attack of brain fever. I was ill in bed three months and they couldn't
+touch a brush to my hair for nine days."
+
+Mrs. D. } "Horrors!"
+Mrs. E. } "Dreadful!"
+Mrs. C. } "Heavens!"
+
+Mrs. G. (bravely). "Just after my youngest child was three--"
+
+Mrs. X. "A man patient was brought on to our floor this morning."
+
+Mrs. S. "_Our_ floor? I wish they _would_ have separate corridors for
+male patients."
+
+Mrs. X. "This gentleman is an old friend of Dr. Levi's. His wife has
+been here four weeks, and now he's been taken ill, so they've put him
+next her on the first floor."
+
+Mrs. S. "I don't care, I hate to have him near us."
+
+Mrs. B. "Why? He's perfectly harmless; he is too ill to move."
+
+Mrs. C. "I'm sure I wish he could! Anything to relieve this hideous
+dullness. What's the matter with him, I wonder!"
+
+Mrs. D. "I'll ask Miss Oaks when I have my hot fomentations this
+afternoon; she knows everything and she's as generous as a prince with
+her knowledge."
+
+Mrs. G. (patiently). "Just after my youngest child was--"
+
+A nurse passes through the grove, bearing a sterilized tray with
+peptonized preparations on it.
+
+Mrs. Y. (calling her). "Nurse! what's the matter with the new
+man-patient on our floor?"
+
+Nurse (discreetly). "I don't know, Mrs. Y."
+
+Mrs. X. (as the nurse vanishes). "She does, but she's a stiff thing!
+Anyway, I heard the attendants whispering about him in the corridor
+before breakfast. Something--I think it's an organ--is floating about
+in him."
+
+All. "_Floating?_ What kind of an organ? Horrors!"
+
+Mrs. X. "I couldn't understand exactly. You know people always roar if
+they have nothing particular to say, but if it is interesting they
+whisper. I distinctly heard the word '_floating_.' I don't know
+whether it's one of his regular organs, or something he swallowed
+accidentally."
+
+Mrs. C. (plaintively). "Doctors are never satisfied. If anything
+floats they want to get it stationary, and if it's stationary they
+want to cut it loose."
+
+Mrs. G. "_Just after my youngest child_--"
+
+Mrs. B. "They say Mrs. H. is going to leave to-morrow; she doesn't
+like the food or the service."
+
+Mrs. E. "Goodness, she has all the service there is on our floor!
+Nobody else gets a chance! She spends her whole silent hour pushing
+the electric button."
+
+Mrs. D. "Yes, Miss Oaks declares she 'lays' on it. She says that the
+head nurse told Mrs. H. she must ring less frequently, or the bell
+would be removed. Miss Oaks says the patients that pay the smallest
+rates always ring the bells most. It isn't fair that a thirty-dollar
+patient should annoy a whole row of eighty-dollar ones and prevent
+their bells from being answered."
+
+Mrs. X. "There's nothing made out of Mrs. H. at thirty dollars a week.
+She was as contented as possible last night, but this morning she
+wanted her bed in the other corner, awnings put on the windows, and
+the bureau changed for a chiffonier. Come, we must all go in for
+treatment--it wants five minutes of four."
+
+Mrs. G., in despair, as she sees the occupants of the hammocks
+dispersing, almost shrieks: "JUST AFTER MY YOUNGEST--"
+
+But the ladies, for some reason or other, do not care to hear anything
+about Mrs. G.'s youngest, and she is obliged to seek another
+audience.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+                                                           Saturday
+
+The doctor found me "over-treated" this morning and advised a day of
+quiet, with a couple of hours on the roof-garden or under the trees.
+
+I have heard at various times sighs of weariness or discontent or pain
+issuing from the room opposite mine, and this afternoon when Miss
+Blossom had gone into Number 19 to sit with the haughty Mrs.
+Chittenden-Ffollette I stole across the corridor and glanced in at the
+half-open door of Number 18.
+
+The quaintest girl raised herself from a mound of sofa-pillows and
+exclaimed: "Why, you beautiful thing! Are you Number 17? I didn't know
+you looked like that!"
+
+"It's very kind of you," I answered, blushing at this outspoken
+greeting; "but I am not beautiful in the least; it is because you do
+not expect much from a person who has just crept out of bed. I don't
+look any better when I am dressed for a party."
+
+"You don't need to," she said. "Now get on my bed and cuddle under the
+afghan and we'll talk till Miss Blossom comes back. Won't she beat you
+for being out of your room? Why are you here? You haven't the least
+resemblance to a rest cure! What is the matter with you?"
+
+"Backache, sideache, shoulderache, headache, sensation of handcuffs on
+wrists, balls and chains on ankles, lack of appetite, and insomnia."
+
+"Is that all? Haven't you any disease?"
+
+"I believe not," I answered humbly, "but the effect is the same as if
+I had. Why are you here?" I asked in return, as I looked admiringly at
+her shining brown hair, plump, rosy cheeks, and dancing eyes.
+
+"I came here, so to speak, in response to an ideal; not my ideal--I
+never have any--but Laura Simonds's. She is my dearest friend and one
+of the noblest girls you ever knew. She said the separation from the
+world would do us both good, and so it might if she could have stayed
+to keep me company. Now she has the world and I have the separation."
+
+"She isn't here, then?"
+
+"No, worse luck! She is always working and planning for the good of
+others, but she is constantly meeting with ingratitude and
+misunderstanding. She had just brought me here when she was
+telegraphed for to turn about and go home. You see she had sent two
+ailing slum children to be taken care of at her house, and it proved
+to be scarlet fever, and, of course, her stepmother took it the first
+thing--she's a hateful person and takes everything she can get--and
+then the cook followed suit. Now they blame Laura and she has to find
+trained nurses and settle everything before she comes back to me."
+
+"Then you're not an invalid? I thought you were in pain and couldn't
+reach the bell. That's the reason I looked in."
+
+"Oh, dear, no, I was only yawning! I came for what Laura calls the
+healing influence of solitude, but Laura thought as the place was so
+expensive, and treatment was included, we'd better take Turkish baths,
+massage, and electricity, they're so good for the complexion. I have a
+little table to myself in the convalescents' dining-room and haven't
+made any acquaintances. I can't stand their sweetbread complexions and
+their double chins. The patients are all so fat they might sing Isaac
+Watts' hymn in unison: 'Much of my time has run to waist.'"
+
+"It is not an inspiring assemblage," I agreed, "though I haven't seen
+them all together, as you have."
+
+"And they think of nothing but themselves, which is exactly what I
+want to think about--myself, I mean. There's one charming girl on this
+floor. Something's the matter with her solar plexus and they won't
+allow her to talk, so we have had some nice conversations in the
+silent hour. They've told me now I mustn't call again; it seems that I
+was too exciting. Tell me something about yourself, Vashti--I am sure
+that's your name, or Semiramis or Zenobia or Judith, and if it isn't
+one or another of those I don't want to hear what it is, for you
+wouldn't look like it."
+
+Just here a page brought in a letter which she glanced through with an
+"Excuse me, please."
+
+"Oh, dear! Now Laura can't come to-morrow! She is certainly the most
+unfortunate being in the universe. She became very much interested in
+a deaf man that she met in her settlement work, and so as to give the
+poor thing employment she appointed him Superintendent of the Working
+Boys' Club. Now the working boys refuse to play with him and the
+directors have had a meeting asking Laura to remove him at once. I do
+think they might have endured him one season when I gave him a
+twenty-dollar ear-trumpet, but some people are utterly unreasonable;
+and here I am, in need of advice every moment, and Laura kept in the
+city!"
+
+"Haven't you any family?"
+
+"Not a soul; have you?"
+
+"No one but a cousin."
+
+"I believe nobody nice and interesting has a family nowadays. Laura
+has no one but an uncongenial stepmother, and that is the reason we
+are so intimate. I am so giddy and frivolous, and Laura is so noble
+and self-sacrificing that I try to form myself on her now and then,
+when I'm not too busy."
+
+"You live with her, do you?"
+
+"Oh, no! I don't live anywhere in particular. Of course I have a house
+and a lady housekeeper, but she doesn't count. I've been staying
+mostly with a Mrs. Beckett, an old friend of my mother's. She is the
+dearest and loveliest woman in the world and I can't bear to be away
+from her."
+
+"Why can't she join forces with you if you are so alone in the
+world?"
+
+"Because there's a son."
+
+"Is he too young, or too old, to join forces?"
+
+"No, he's just right, and he'd be only too glad to join forces, or
+anything else that had me in it, but he mustn't, and that's the reason
+Laura made me come here!" And with this she punched the sofa-pillows
+rebelliously, looking more like an enraged Angora kitten than anything
+else.
+
+"It's your hour for cold spray," said Jimmy, the page-boy, peeping in
+at the crack of the door.
+
+"I'll come!" she responded unwillingly. "Now do steal in again," she
+whispered, turning to me, "for I must talk to somebody, and if Laura
+could see you I know she would think you safer than anybody here."
+
+That afternoon, as I swung in my hammock in the grove below the
+sanitarium, I looked up at its three stories of height and its rows
+upon rows of windows, and wondered how many cases of neurasthenia
+under its roof were traceable to a conflict between love and
+conscience. "I begin to have an interest in that chatterbox neighbor
+of mine," I thought drowsily, "and that, after vowing not to make an
+acquaintance in this place. Love will be a side dish, not the roast,
+in her bill of fare, if I am any judge of character, and why does her
+Laura attempt to stem the natural tide of events? It is almost wicked
+of the Fates to give such a featherhead any problems to solve; she
+ought to have her what's-his-name, Beckett, if she wants him,
+particularly if he wants her. As for the noble Laura, I long to make
+her acquaintance. I can almost hear the uncongenial stepmother, the
+feverish cook, and the infuriated directors, clamoring for a
+providence to remove her from their field of vision, and substitute
+some thoroughly practical and ignoble person in her stead."
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+                                                             Sunday
+
+I was very happy all the morning; so happy that I forgot my tonics,
+massage, and sedative tablets; but the doctor called at noon and spoke
+of the wonderful way in which my system responded to his remedies, so
+I said nothing.
+
+Cousin Sarah forwarded me a letter from Richard Morton, who is
+superintending some surveying near a small town in Pennsylvania. He
+knows that I am not well and away from home on a visit to the country,
+but, of course, he is not aware of my exact whereabouts. It was just
+one of his gay, friendly letters, with an undertone of something
+warmer in it. Among other things he said:
+
+  How weak a thing is man! Now that you are so far away and I am
+  exiled in a village where there is but one post a day I suffer
+  pangs of hunger for a word from you. So far the one daily mail
+  would have been all too ample for your desires, since you have
+  not written a word as yet; but there is always the hope! I have
+  been speculating to-night upon the frightful risks and dangers
+  surrounding the man who is waiting for a letter. It seems to me
+  the very best postal service is inadequate to take care of a
+  letter from you to me! Think of the uncertainties and perils to
+  which it is exposed in transit! You give it to a maid to drop in
+  a pillar post-box, but she may forget and leave it in her
+  pocket, or she may lose it. Or say she drops it in; it must be
+  removed from the box by an ordinary human being who has no
+  conception of the issues involved in the rigid performance of
+  this particular duty. The letter is then taken to the branch
+  office of your section, then to the general post, and then to
+  the railway, where new dangers menace its precious existence.
+  The train may be robbed; and if a single letter is stolen it
+  will be yours to me. No man alive could resist a letter of yours
+  after he had once read one.
+
+Is there not a note of tenderness here, a note that has crept in only
+during the last few months? But what if there is? It occurred to me
+after dinner that the question of his feeling for me is not the only,
+nor even the principal one to be considered. The point under
+advisement is, shall I allow him to love me when there is something
+better in store for him?
+
+Miss Blossom had scarcely left my room this evening when I heard a
+pattering step and a hurried tap on my door. On my saying "Come," my
+opposite neighbor slipped in and turned the key in the lock. It was an
+unconventional and amusing performance, but I didn't mind. Somehow one
+couldn't mind anything with such a spoiled baby.
+
+"Good-evening, Zuleika!" she said. "No, you needn't smile and raise
+your finger at me as if you were dying to tell me your name is
+Abigail! Miss Blossom has gone for the night, hasn't she? I thought
+so. You know it's the nurses' ball this evening, and there's only one
+attendant on duty in each corridor from now to half-past nine. May I
+have this big chair by the window? I am so bored with this place that
+it excites me even to think how stupid it is. I almost wish I had a
+symptom or two, just by way of sensation. Did you have Somnolina for
+supper? I did, and some time I shall make a scene in the dining-room
+when I watch the hundred and fifty dyspeptics simultaneously lifting
+cups of Teaette or Somnolina to their parched lips."
+
+"You ought to be ashamed," I chided, "when you know almost every one
+who is here needs to be put upon a diet. You wouldn't expect
+champagne, terrapin, and canvasback ducks?"
+
+"I know it; don't scold, it makes you look like Cassandra. Isn't the
+moonlight enchanting, and if this weren't a health resort wouldn't it
+be a heaven upon earth?"
+
+The broad, unscreened windows were wide open and vines of woodbine or
+honeysuckle framed them on every side. A lake shone like a silver
+mirror in the distant landscape and the elms and maples and chestnuts
+swayed in the summer breeze. Little groups chatted on the broad
+piazzas, and here and there on a rustic bench in the moonlight sat a
+man and a woman--two minds with but a single thought, and that thought
+his or her own solar plexus.
+
+It was an hour for confidences, and I remember that my troubled heart
+cried out for a strong, tried friendship on which to draw for counsel
+and sympathy. What wonder, then, that the Angora kitten, deprived of
+her Laura, emptied her silky little head of some of its worries,
+divining that I was older and graver and perhaps would find her lost
+ball and give it to her to play with again.
+
+"There's no telling when Laura will be here!" she exclaimed
+despairingly. "When there is any duty within a thousand miles she
+stays to perform it. Mrs. Beckett has poisoned herself with mercury
+and Laura thinks she ought to go and nurse her for a day or two--as if
+Mrs. Beckett hadn't six maids and twenty thousand a year to spend in
+nurses! Laura can't bear Tom, his incurable levity gets on her nerves,
+and why she wants to martyr herself by staying in the house with him
+when I'd be only too glad to go, passes my comprehension!"
+
+(I can't explain it, but at this juncture I seemed to have visions of
+Laura flirting with the Beckett during the Kitten's absence.)
+
+"Sometimes," she continued, rippling along as if natural speech had
+been denied her for hours, "sometimes I wish I hadn't selected such a
+superior being for a bosom friend, and then again I despise myself for
+harboring such a mean feeling. I'm forever trying to climb, and Laura
+is continually trying to drag me to her level, but I suppose I don't
+belong there, and that's the reason I keep slipping off and sliding
+down. At this minute, if she'd let me be the groveling little
+earthworm I am by nature, I could marry Tom Beckett and be as happy as
+the day is long."
+
+"What is the matter?" I asked sympathetically, though rather ashamed
+to drop a plummet into so shallow a brook. "If you love his mother so
+dearly, and love him too, and are sure of his affection, why don't you
+marry him? Isn't he suitable?"
+
+"Oh, yes; he's almost too suitable; that's one of the lions in the
+way. His family is good, he is as handsome as Apollo, and he has a
+much larger income than mine, but you see there's another man."
+
+"Another man! You didn't mention him yesterday."
+
+"Didn't I? How funny! But after all it was our very first interview,
+and even silly I have my reserves."
+
+"Do you love them both equally?" I asked, trying to keep the note of
+sarcasm out of my voice.
+
+"Certainly not. I care nothing about anybody but Tom Beckett, but
+Laura says that such a marriage will simply mean a life of
+self-indulgent luxury, idleness, and pleasure. She says marriage is
+something loftier and nobler than pleasing one's self; that it ought
+to mean growth and development both to the man and the woman. She says
+that I should have no influence on Tom, and that I need somebody
+strong and serious to steady me. She says Tom and I would only frisk
+through life and leave the world no better or wiser than we found it.
+She even says" (and here she turned her face to the honeysuckles)--"I
+don't like to repeat it, but Laura is so advanced she makes my
+embarrassment seem simply idiotic--she even says that the children of
+such a union would be incurably light-minded and trivial; and oh,
+Zuleika, if one isn't a bit advanced in any way, doesn't it seem hard
+to keep from marrying somebody you love just for the good of a few
+frivolous children you've never seen in your life?"
+
+It was neither the place, the hour, nor the subject for laughter, but
+I forgot my neurasthenia and gave way to a burst of wholehearted
+mirth! Every second of time seemed to increase the unconscious humor
+of her point of view, and only fear of the nurse on duty in the
+corridor enabled me to control myself at all.
+
+"Have I been funny?" she asked delightedly, as she drew her head in
+the window. "I never can see my own jokes, but I'm glad to have amused
+you, only I did hope for a little sympathy. Everybody can't be
+Zenobias and Vashtis and Lauras, superior to common weaknesses!"
+
+"I do, I do sympathize," I said, wiping the tears of merriment from my
+eyes, "and I agree with you much more than with Laura. Now the 'other
+man' is, I suppose, all that is grave and reverend--a complete
+contrast to the too trivial Thomas?"
+
+"Yes, and he's as good as good can be; trustworthy, talented,
+honorable, everything; you know the kind? I never get on with them."
+
+"Does he love you?"
+
+"Laura thinks he does, but I've no reason to suppose so. We've always
+been friends, while Tom Beckett and I squabble and make up twice a
+week; but anyway, even if he doesn't adore me in Tom's silly way,
+Laura says I ought not to mind. She says it would be noble of me to
+help him to a splendid and prosperous career, and thinks I ought to
+remember how much my father wanted him for a son-in-law--you see he is
+awfully poor."
+
+At this coupling of fathers and poverty a sudden light blazed in upon
+my consciousness and I sat bolt upright among the sofa-pillows. How
+could I have guessed that the love-affairs of this rosy-cheeked
+dumpling, the casual acquaintance of a rest-cure, could have any
+connection with my own? If she hadn't been the sort of person who
+confides at first sight we should have learned each other's names at
+the beginning and been on guard. The truth is, I had thought of no one
+but Tom Beckett in her confessions; the personality of "the other man"
+had stolen into the chronicle so late in the day that I had taken no
+interest in him.
+
+"Are you Amy Darling?" I asked her plump.
+
+"Yes, but how mean of you to pump Blossom! I wanted to go on thinking
+of you as Zuleika and have you call me something imaginary and
+romantic."
+
+"I am Philippa Armstrong. Did you ever hear the name?"
+
+"No, but it's all right; it looks like you, and it's nearly as pretty
+as Zenobia. Now if Tom Beckett had only chosen you and I could have
+obliged Laura by falling in love with--"
+
+"Don't mention the other man's name!" I cried hastily; "it just comes
+to me that I may have met him."
+
+"Met Dick Morton?"
+
+It was true then! Here was the girl whom Richard ought, for his
+worldly good, to marry, and she was not a woman at all, only an Angora
+kitten, and moreover a kitten in love with Tom Beckett!
+
+"Yes, I have met him, but I only this moment suspected it!"
+
+"Have you known him long?"
+
+"Less than a year."
+
+"That settles it!" she cried, leaping to her feet excitedly. "If Dick
+Morton has known you for a year he won't want me and I can marry Tom!
+Goody, goody, goody!"
+
+"Stuff and nonsense!" I said quickly. "Richard Morton is only a very
+dear friend."
+
+"Stuff and nonsense yourself! No man with an eye in his head could be
+a dear friend to you! And Dick Morton is the hero sort who doesn't
+care for Dottie Dimples, but worships Vashtis and Zuleika-Zenobias.
+Have you any money?"
+
+"Not a penny!"
+
+"Oh, dear! I might have known you wouldn't have, with that hair and
+those eyes. Never mind! I'm certain that Dick would rather have a
+pauper goddess than a rich little earthworm."
+
+"You mustn't talk any more about the matter," I said with as much
+dignity as I could muster in the midst of her laughter-provoking
+nonsense, which made the most sacred subjects seem a natural matter of
+discussion. "I know through Mrs. Taunton all about the
+circumstances--your father's wishes and his letter to Richard. If you
+can possibly love him you must accept him, advance his fortunes, and
+do your duty by your father. I am determined to be as noble as Laura
+Simonds in this matter and I refuse to be a stumbling-block!"
+
+The girl fell limply into the lounging-chair.
+
+"Oh," she said despondently, "if _you_ are going to be noble, too,
+there's no use discussing the matter. What an example we shall be for
+the heathen nations! You will be noble and give up Dick Morton; I
+shall be noble and marry him; and be noble at the same time in giving
+up Tom; Tom will be noble in suffering me to marry anybody but
+himself; Dick will be noble in obliging my father and marrying me
+instead of you; Laura is always noble! We could use up a whole order
+of nobility among us! And it is all so silly! Do you suppose my dear
+father would want four of us to be unhappy, his own daughter among
+them? It's really only Laura who matters, and if you had any ingenuity
+you could pacify her and persuade her that it is my duty for once to
+follow my ignoble inclinations. I am afraid of her, but _you_ needn't
+be! You could blaze and flash and tower, if you only would, and save
+us all!"
+
+"You seem to forget," I urged, "that Mr. Morton has never asked me to
+marry him."
+
+"That's nothing; he has probably been thinking how he could get me
+nicely disposed of, or how he could earn a roof under which he could
+ask you to step in wet weather. He's been too stupid and moody and
+dull this last winter for any use, and now I understand him. Has he
+ever seen you like this with your Rebecca-at-the-well hair down?"
+
+"Certainly not!"
+
+"I thought so; or he'd have forgotten the necessary roof!--Come
+in!--Goodness! it's your room and I locked the door! Do excuse me;
+I'll open it. A telegram for you.--Wait outside for an answer,
+Jimmy."
+
+I tore open the envelope, confidently expecting that Cousin Sarah had
+been struck with paralysis; instead of which I read:
+
+                                       Archville, Pennsylvania,
+                                                        June 16
+
+  Have this moment secured a large and important contract assuring
+  two years' lucrative work. May I come to see you immediately?
+  Name earliest day.
+
+                                                          R. M.
+
+I handed the message to the Kitten, who read it and exclaimed: "I knew
+he was only waiting for the roof! You see he doesn't worry about _my_
+prospects--selfish pig! Answer it and say Thursday--you can get well
+by Thursday, can't you?--for I want to send for Tom on the same day.
+There's a polo game at home on Saturday, and Tom has a new motor car.
+Tell Dick the best hotel in the town is the Brooks House. I must wire
+to Laura, too. I shall say, let me see: I shall say: '_You shouldn't
+have left me. I couldn't be noble alone._' That's just ten words.
+She'll understand fast enough, and it will pave the way for you when
+you explain the situation to her. We'll leave the sanitarium Friday
+and get your Cousin Sarah to chaperon us on the journey home. Here,
+I've written my messages, now do yours--hurry! There!--Jimmy, you're
+too old to play with matches, aren't you?"
+
+"Yes, marm."
+
+"Very well, then, you can be trusted with these two telegrams. Don't
+hold them near the fire; there's a match in each of them."
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+SECOND WEEK
+
+As a patient Dr. Levi says I am almost as great a credit to the
+institution as Mrs. Chittenden-Ffollette herself.
+
+Monday.--I slept all day, waking only for meals.
+
+Tuesday.--The handcuffs slipped off my wrists and the balls and chains
+off my ankles.
+
+Wednesday.--My headache, sideache, backache, and shoulderache
+disappeared. Breakfasted with the doctor on coffee, hot biscuits,
+beefsteak, and griddle cakes with sausage.
+
+Thursday.--Richard Morton came.
+
+Friday.--Dismissed as completely cured.
+
+"The dimensions of this mercy are above my thoughts," as Cromwell
+wrote after the Worcester fight.
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+
+The Riverside Press
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+<head>
+<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" />
+<title>
+The Project Gutenberg eBook of Ladies-In-Waiting, by Kate Douglas Wiggin.
+</title>
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+
+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Ladies-In-Waiting, by Kate Douglas Wiggin
+
+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: Ladies-In-Waiting
+
+Author: Kate Douglas Wiggin
+
+Illustrator: Christine Tucke Curtiss
+
+Release Date: October 15, 2008 [EBook #26928]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LADIES-IN-WAITING ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+<hr class='silver' />
+
+<div class='figcenter'>
+<img src='images/illus-fpc.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 264px; height: 517px;' /><br />
+</div>
+
+<hr class='silver' />
+
+<div class='ce'>
+<p style=' font-size:1.8em; margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:1.2em;'>LADIES-IN-WAITING</p>
+<p><i>By</i></p>
+<p style=' font-size:1.2em; margin-bottom:2em;'>KATE DOUGLAS WIGGIN</p>
+<p>WITH FRONTISPIECE BY</p>
+<p style=' margin-bottom:3em;'>CHRISTINE TUCKE CURTISS</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class='figcenter'>
+<img src='images/illus-emb.png' alt='' title=''  /><br />
+</div>
+
+<div class='ce'>
+<p style=' margin-top:3em;'>BOSTON AND NEW YORK</p>
+<p style=' font-size:1.2em;'>HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY</p>
+<p style=' margin-bottom:3em; font-style:italic;'>The Riverside Press Cambridge</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class='silver' />
+
+<div class='ce'>
+<p style=' font-size:0.8em; margin-top:2em;'>COPYRIGHT, 1919, BY KATE DOUGLAS RIGGS</p>
+<p style=' font-size:0.8em; margin-bottom:2em;'>ALL RIGHTS RESERVED</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class='silver' />
+
+<div class='ce'>
+<p style=' font-size:1.4em;'>FOREWORD</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>It may be urged that all proper heroines go
+through a period of uncertainty before giving
+their hands and hearts in marriage. Occasionally,
+however, there are longer seasons
+of indecision, incident to pride, high temper,
+or misunderstanding on the lady&#8217;s side, or
+to poverty, undue timidity, or lack of high
+pressure on the part of the gentleman. I
+have christened the heroines of this volume
+&#8220;Ladies-in-Waiting,&#8221; and that no mental
+picture may be formed of Queen and Court
+and Maids of Honor I have asked the artist
+to portray for the frontispiece a marriageable
+maiden seated pensively upon a hillside.
+Her attitude is plainly one of suspended
+animation while the new moon above her
+shoulders suggests to the reader that she
+will not wait in vain.</p>
+<div class='ra'>
+<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Kate Douglas Wiggin</span></p>
+</div>
+
+<p><i>August 11, 1919</i></p>
+<hr class='silver' />
+
+<div class='ce'>
+<p style=' font-size:1.4em; margin-bottom:1em;'>Contents</p>
+</div>
+
+<table border='0' width='500' cellpadding='2' cellspacing='0' summary='Contents' style='margin:1em auto;'>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'><span style='font-size:small;'>CHAPTER</span></td>
+  <td align='right'><span style='font-size:small;'>PAGE</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:1em;'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Miss Thomasina Tucker</span></td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#MISS_THOMASINA_TUCKER'>1</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:1em;'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Turning-Point</span></td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#THE_TURNINGPOINT'>97</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:1em;'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Huldah The Prophetess</span></td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#HULDAH_THE_PROPHETESS'>145</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:1em;'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Two On A Tour</span></td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#TWO_ON_A_TOUR'>183</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:1em;'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Philippa&#8217;s Nervous Prostration</span></td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#PHILIPPA_S_NERVOUS_PROSTRATION'>275</a></td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_1' name='page_1'></a>1</span></div>
+<hr class='silver' />
+
+<div class='ce'>
+<p style=' font-size:1.4em;'>LADIES-IN-WAITING</p>
+</div>
+
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 0em; padding-bottom: 0em'>
+<a name='MISS_THOMASINA_TUCKER' id='MISS_THOMASINA_TUCKER'></a>
+<h2>MISS THOMASINA TUCKER</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='ce'>
+<p style=' font-size:1.4em;'>I</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>&#8220;Good-bye, Miss Tucker!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Good luck, Miss Tommy!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Bye, bye, Tomsie!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t stay away too long!&#8221;</p>
+<p>These sentiments were being called from
+the Hoboken dock to the deck of an ocean
+steamer, while a young lady, buried in bouquets
+and bonbons, leaned over the rail,
+sparkling, inciting, compelling, responding.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Take care of yourself, Tommy!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t see but that I must! Nobody else
+to do it!&#8221; she responded saucily.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You wouldn&#8217;t let &#8217;em if they tried!&#8221;
+This from a rosy-cheeked youngster who
+was as close to the water&#8217;s edge as safety permitted.
+&#8220;Say, did you guess what my floral
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_2' name='page_2'></a>2</span>
+offering was to be when you trimmed your
+hat? I <i>am</i> flattered!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Sorry! The hat was trimmed weeks ago,
+and I&#8217;m wearing your bouquet because it
+matches.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Thanks, awfully,&#8221; replied the crestfallen
+youth. &#8220;Plans for reduction of head-size
+constantly on file in Miss Tucker&#8217;s office.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Just Carl&#8217;s luck to hit on a match.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t see any particular luck in being
+accessory to a hat trimming,&#8221; grumbled
+Carl.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Write now and then, Miss Tommy, won&#8217;t
+you?&#8221; said a fellow with eyeglasses and an
+air of fashion.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Won&#8217;t promise! I&#8217;ll wait till I&#8217;m rich
+enough to cable!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Shilling a word&#8217;s expensive, but you can
+send &#8217;em to me collect. My word is &#8216;Hopeful,&#8217;&#8221;&mdash;at
+which the little party laughed.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Register another, and make it &#8216;Uncertain,&#8217;&#8221;
+called the girl roguishly, seeing that
+no one was paying any attention to her
+friends and their nonsense.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_3' name='page_3'></a>3</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;London first, is it?&#8221; asked the rosy youth.
+&#8220;Decided on your hotel?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Hotel? It&#8217;s going to be my share of a
+modest Bloomsbury lodging,&#8221; she answered.
+&#8220;Got to sing my way from a third-floor-back
+in a side street to a gorgeous suite at the
+Ritz!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;We&#8217;ll watch you!&#8221; cried three in chorus.</p>
+<p>&#8220;But we&#8217;d rather hear you, darling,&#8221; said
+a nice, tailor-made girl, whose puffy eyelids
+looked as if she had been crying.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Blessed lamb! I hope I&#8217;ll be better worth
+hearing! Oh, do go home, all of you; especially
+you, Jessie! My courage is oozing out
+at the heels of my shoes. Disappear! I&#8217;ve
+been farewelling actively for an hour and
+casually for a week. If they don&#8217;t take off
+the gangplank in a minute or two I shan&#8217;t
+have pluck enough to stick to the ship.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You can&#8217;t expect us to brace you up,
+Tommy,&#8221; said the rosy youth. &#8220;We&#8217;re losing
+too much by it. Come along back! What&#8217;s
+the matter with America?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t talk to her that way, Carl,&#8221;&mdash;and
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_4' name='page_4'></a>4</span>
+the tailor-made girl looked at him reproachfully.
+&#8220;You know she&#8217;s got nobody
+and nothing to come back to. She&#8217;s given
+up her room. She&#8217;s quarreled with her beastly
+uncle at last; all her belongings are in the hold
+of the steamer, and she&#8217;s made up her mind.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;All ashore that&#8217;s going ashore!&#8221; The
+clarion tones of the steward rang through the
+air for the third time, and the loud beating
+of the ship&#8217;s gong showed that the last moment
+had come. The gangplank was removed
+and the great liner pushed off and slowly
+wended her way down-river, some of the
+more faithful ones in the crowd waving handkerchiefs
+until she was a blur in the distance.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, there&#8217;s no truer way of showing
+loyalty than by going to Hoboken to see a
+friend off,&#8221; said the eyeglassed chap as he
+walked beside Jessie Macleod to the ferry.
+&#8220;I wouldn&#8217;t do it for anybody but Tommy.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Nor I!&#8221; exclaimed the rosy youth.
+&#8220;Good old Tommy! I wonder whether she&#8217;ll
+sing and have a career, or fall in love over
+there?&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_5' name='page_5'></a>5</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;She might do both, I should think; at
+least it has been done, though not, perhaps,
+with conspicuous success,&#8221; was Carl&#8217;s reply.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Whatever she does, we&#8217;ve lost her,&#8221;
+sighed the girl; &#8220;and our little set will be so
+dull without Tommy!&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<p>Fergus Appleton had leaned over the deck
+rail for a few moments before the ship started
+on her voyage; leaned there idly and indifferently,
+as he did most things, smoking his
+cigarette with an air of complete detachment
+from the world. He was going to no one,
+and leaving no one behind. He had money
+enough to live on, but life had always been
+something of a bore to him and he could not
+have endured it without regular occupation.
+His occasional essays on subjects connected
+with architecture, his critical articles in similar
+fields, his travels in search of wider information,
+the book on which he was working
+at the moment,&mdash;these kept him busy
+and gave him a sense of being tolerably useful
+in his generation. The particular group
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_6' name='page_6'></a>6</span>
+of juveniles shouting more or less intimate
+remarks to a girl passenger on board the
+steamer attracted his attention for a moment.</p>
+<p>&#8220;They are very young,&#8221; he thought, &#8220;or
+they would realize that they are all revealing
+themselves with considerable frankness, although
+nobody seems to be listening but me!&#8221;</p>
+<p>He would not have listened, as a matter
+of fact, had it not been for the voice of the
+girl they called Tommy. It was not loud, but
+it had the quality of a golden bell, and Fergus
+was susceptible to a beautiful voice. One
+other thing&mdash;the slightest possible thing&mdash;enlisted
+his notice. She wore a great bunch
+of mignonette stuck in the waistband of her
+green cloth dress, and her small hat had a
+flat wreath of the same flower. Mignonette
+was, perhaps, the only growing thing of
+which Fergus Appleton ever took note, and
+its perfume was the only one that particularly
+appealed to his rather dull sense of smell;
+the reason being that in the old garden of
+the house in which he was born there was
+always a huge straggling patch of mignonette.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_7' name='page_7'></a>7</span>
+His mother used to sit there on summer
+mornings and read to him, and when he
+lay on his back in the sunshine he used to
+watch the butterflies and humming-birds
+and trees, and sniff the fragrance that filled
+the air. When his mother died, he wandered
+into the garden, sought the familiar corner,
+and flung himself on the bed of mignonette
+to cry his heart out&mdash;the lonely heart of an
+eight-year-old boy. That was five and twenty
+years ago, but he never passed a florist&#8217;s
+open door in summer-time without remembering
+that despairing hour and the fragrance
+of the flowers, bruised with his weight and
+moist with his tears.</p>
+<p>The girl vanished the moment the steamer
+was out of sight of the dock, and Fergus did
+not give her another thought for a day or two.
+He had liked her green cloth dress and the
+hat that framed her young, laughing, plucky
+face. He had thought her name suited her,
+and wondered what dignified appellation
+had been edited, cut, and metamorphosed
+to make &#8220;Tommy,&#8221; deciding after a look
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_8' name='page_8'></a>8</span>
+at the passenger list that it was Thomasina,
+and that the girl must be Miss Thomasina
+Tucker, an alliterative combination which
+did not appeal to his literary taste.</p>
+<p>The voyage was a rough one, and he saw
+her only now and then, always alone, and
+generally standing on the end of the ship, her
+green cape blowing in a gale of wind and
+showing a scarlet lining, her mignonette hat
+exchanged for a soft green thing with an upstanding
+scarlet quill. She was the only companionable
+person on board, but he did not
+know her and sat nowhere near her at table,
+an assemblage of facts that seemed to settle
+the matter, considering the sort of man he
+was and the sort of girl she was.</p>
+<p>&#8220;She&#8217;s too pretty and too young to be
+gallivanting about &#8216;on her own,&#8217;&#8221; he said
+to himself one morning, when Tommy stood
+on the upper deck looking out to sea and, as
+far as he could judge, singing, though there
+was such a gale blowing that he could not
+hear her voice. &#8220;But all the girls are the same
+nowadays,&#8221;&mdash;and he puffed his pipe disconsolately;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_9' name='page_9'></a>9</span>
+&#8220;all the same; brisk, self-supporting,
+good fellows. If I ever met a nice,
+unsuccessful-but-not-depressed sort of girl,
+soft but not silly, mild but not tame, flexible
+but not docile, spirited but not domineering,
+I think I should capitulate; but they&#8217;re all
+dead. The type has changed, and I haven&#8217;t
+changed with it.&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<p>Fergus Appleton did not make acquaintances
+easily; no man does who has had a
+lonely, neglected boyhood, his only companion
+a father who seldom remembered his
+existence, and, when he did, apparently regretted
+it. He had known girls, but he was a
+shy, silent, ugly boy, and appealed as little
+to them as they to him. He did not live
+through the twenties without discovering
+that a fine crop of sentiment was growing in
+his heart; he also discovered that he didn&#8217;t
+know in the least what to do with it. George
+Meredith, speaking of Romance, says: &#8220;The
+young who avoid that region escape the title
+of Fool at the cost of a Celestial crown.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_10' name='page_10'></a>10</span>
+Fergus Appleton wouldn&#8217;t have minded being
+called a fool if only he could have contrived
+to deserve the title, and the glimmer
+of the crown celestial had been in his imagination
+more than once until he turned thirty
+and decided it was not for his head. Guileless
+school-girls did not appeal to him, and
+elderly sirens certainly had no power to
+charm; he was even widow-proof, so he became
+a thoroughfare for sisterly affection.
+Girls suffocated him with friendliness, which
+was not the stuff of which his dreams were
+made.</p>
+<p>However, he had nothing to complain of,
+for he got as good as he gave, and it occurred
+to him that he could not expect to
+start a disastrous conflagration in any maiden
+bosom so long as he had no brimstone, nor
+any substitute for it, on his own premises.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Anyway,&#8221; he reflected (though perhaps
+not oftener than once a year), &#8220;if I
+haven&#8217;t a tie in the world, I have complete
+freedom to do as I like!&#8221; And if the said
+freedom palled upon him occasionally, nobody
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_11' name='page_11'></a>11</span>
+was the wiser, for Fergus Appleton did
+not wear his heart on his sleeve.</p>
+<p>As for Tommy, there had been several
+Thomas Tuckers in genealogical line, and
+the father of Thomasina was already Thomas
+Tucker the third. Mr. and Mrs. Tucker, the
+parents of the first Thomas, must have been
+somewhat lacking in humor, and somewhat
+ignorant of the classics, for although
+they could not, perhaps, help being Tuckers,
+they needn&#8217;t have saddled their offspring
+with a Christian name which would suggest
+Mother Goose to every properly educated
+person. However, the first Thomas grew into
+a great man, healthy, wealthy, and wise, and
+his descendants could hardly do less than
+keep his name alive. Thomas the third was
+disappointed, not to say mortified, when his
+only child, born in his old age, turned out to
+be a girl, but he bravely did the best he could
+and named her Thomasina. Mrs. Tucker did
+not like the name, but she died before the
+baby was three days old. The baby hated
+it herself when she reached years of discretion,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_12' name='page_12'></a>12</span>
+and when she found that she possessed
+a voice and had a possible career before
+her, she saw plainly that something
+more mellifluous must be substituted if programmes
+should ever be in question. Meantime
+she was Tommy to her friends, and the
+gay little name suited her to a T. The gay
+little rhyme suited her, too, for like the
+Tommy Tucker in Mother Goose, she had
+to &#8220;sing for her supper&#8221;; for her breakfast,
+and her dinner, and her tea also, for that
+matter, if any were to be eaten.</p>
+<p>Her only relation, a disagreeable bachelor
+uncle, had given her a home during her
+orphaned girlhood, and her first idea on growing
+up was to get out of it. This she did
+promptly when she secured a place in a
+Brooklyn choir. The salary was modest, but
+it provided a room and at least one meal a
+day, not, of course, a Roman banquet, but
+something to satisfy a youthful appetite. It
+seemed to the intrepid possessor of a charming
+voice, an equally charming face, and a
+positive gift for playing accompaniments,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_13' name='page_13'></a>13</span>
+that the other two meals, and a few clothes
+and sundries, might be forthcoming. As a
+matter of fact, they were, although the uncle
+said that Tommy would starve, and he almost
+hoped that she would, just to break the
+back of her obstinate independence.</p>
+<div class='ce'>
+<p style=' font-size:1.4em;'>II</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>Tommy had none too much to eat, and, according
+to her own æsthetic ambitions, nothing
+at all to wear; but she was busy all
+day long and absurdly happy. Her income
+was uncertain, but that was amusing and
+thrilling rather than pitiful or tragic. She
+had two or three &#8220;steadies&#8221; among singers,
+who gave her engagements as accompanist
+at small drawing-room recitals or charitable
+entertainments. There was a stout prima
+donna whose arias for dramatic soprano kept
+her practicing until midnight, and a rich young
+lady amateur who needed a very friendly
+and careful accompaniment because she sang
+flat and always lost her breath before the
+end of a long phrase. The manner in which
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_14' name='page_14'></a>14</span>
+Tommy concealed these defects was thoroughly
+ingenious and sympathetic. When
+Miss Guggenheim paused for breath, Tommy
+filled the gap with instrumental arabesques;
+when she was about to flat, Tommy gave her
+the note suggestively. If she was too dreadfully
+below pitch, and had breath enough to
+hang on to the note so long that the audience
+(always composed of invited guests) writhed
+obviously, Tommy would sometimes drop
+a sheet of music on the floor and create a
+diversion, always apologizing profusely for
+her clumsiness. The third patron was a young
+baritone, who liked Miss Tucker&#8217;s appearance
+on the platform and had her whenever
+he didn&#8217;t sing Schubert&#8217;s &#8220;Erl König,&#8221;
+which Tommy couldn&#8217;t play. This was her
+most profitable engagement, but it continued
+alas! for only three months, for the baritone
+wanted to marry her, and she didn&#8217;t like him
+because he was bald and his neck was too fat.
+Also, she was afraid she would have to learn
+to play the &#8220;Erl König&#8221; properly.</p>
+<p>All this time Tommy was longing to sing
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_15' name='page_15'></a>15</span>
+in public herself, and trying to save money
+enough to take more lessons by way of preparation.</p>
+<p>When she lost the baritone, who was really
+peevish at being rejected after suiting his
+programmes to her capacities for a whole
+season, Tommy conceived a new idea. She
+influenced Jessie Macleod, who had a fine
+contralto, and two other girls with well-trained
+voices, to form a quartette.</p>
+<p>&#8220;We can&#8217;t get anything to do separately;
+perhaps we can make a pittance together,&#8221;
+she said. &#8220;We&#8217;ll do good simple things; our
+voices blend well, and if we practice enough
+there&#8217;s no reason why we shouldn&#8217;t sing
+beautifully.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Singing beautifully is one thing and getting
+engagements is another,&#8221; sighed Jessie
+Macleod.</p>
+<p>&#8220;As if I didn&#8217;t know that! We can&#8217;t hope
+to be superior to other quartettes, so we must
+be different&mdash;unusual, unique&mdash;I can&#8217;t
+think just how at the moment, but I will before
+we make our début.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_16' name='page_16'></a>16</span></p>
+<p>And she did, for Tommy was nothing if
+not fertile in ideas.</p>
+<p>Every hour that the girls could spare in the
+month of October was given to rehearsal, till
+the four fresh young voices were like one.
+They had decided to give nothing but English
+songs, to sing entirely from memory, and to
+make a specialty of good words well spoken.
+All the selections but one or two were to be
+without accompaniment, and in these Tommy
+would sit at the piano surrounded by the
+other three in a little group.</p>
+<p>Miss Guggenheim was to give them their
+first appearance, invite fifty or sixty people,
+and serve tea. She kindly offered to sing some
+solos herself, but Tommy, shuddering inwardly,
+said she thought it was better that
+the quartette should test its own strength
+unaided.</p>
+<p>Miss Guggenheim couldn&#8217;t sing, but she
+could dress, and she had an inspiration a
+week before the concert.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What are you going to wear, girls?&#8221; she
+asked.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_17' name='page_17'></a>17</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Anything we have, is the general idea,&#8221;
+said Tommy. &#8220;Mine is black.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mine&#8217;s blue&#8221;&mdash;&#8220;White&#8221;&mdash;&#8220;Pink!&#8221;
+came from the other three.</p>
+<p>&#8220;But must you wear those particular
+dresses? Can&#8217;t you each compromise a little
+so as to look better together?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;So hard to compromise when each of us
+has one dress hanging on one nail; one neck
+and sleeves filled up for afternoons and
+ripped out for evenings!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I should get four simple dresses just
+alike,&#8221; said Miss Guggenheim, who had a
+dozen.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What if they should hang in our closets
+unworn and unpaid for?&#8221; asked Jessie
+Macleod.</p>
+<p>&#8220;We&#8217;re sure to get at least one engagement
+some time or other. Nothing ventured,
+nothing have. We ought to earn enough to
+pay for the dresses, if we do nothing more,&#8221;&mdash;and
+Tommy&#8217;s vote settled it.</p>
+<p>Miss Guggenheim knew people, if she did
+sing flat, and her drawing-room was full on
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_18' name='page_18'></a>18</span>
+the occasion of the début. Carl Bothwick, a
+friend of Tommy&#8217;s, was in a publishing office,
+and nobly presented programmes for the
+occasion. The quartette had not thought
+of naming itself, but Carl had grouped the
+songs under the heading, &#8220;The Singing
+Girls,&#8221; and luckily they liked the idea.</p>
+<p>At four o&#8217;clock the hum of conversation
+ceased at the sound of singing voices in the
+distance. A sort of processional effect had
+been Tommy&#8217;s suggestion, and the quartette
+formed in the dressing-room and sang its
+way to the audience.</p>
+<table summary='poetry' style='margin:0 auto'><tr><td>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>&#8220;Hark, hark, the lark at Heaven&#8217;s gate sings,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>And Ph&oelig;bus &#8217;gins to rise.&#8221;</p>
+</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>The voices rang high and clear, coming
+nearer and nearer. All the words could be
+heard and understood. The hall portières divided,
+and the girls entered, all in soft gray
+crêpe, gardenias at the belt, little brimmed
+hats of black velvet with a single gardenia on
+the side, the flowers being the offering of the
+dramatic soprano, who loved Tommy. They
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_19' name='page_19'></a>19</span>
+were young, they were pretty, they sang delightfully
+in tune, and with quite bewitching
+effect. Several ladies fell in love with them at
+first sight, and hoped that they would sing
+for nothing a few times, &#8220;just to get themselves
+known.&#8221; They had done nothing else
+for two years, so that Tommy said they must
+be acquainted with the entire State of New
+York, though nothing ever came of it. It was
+a joyous surprise, then, when an old gentleman
+in the company (who was seen to wipe
+tears away when the girls sang &#8220;Darby and
+Joan&#8221;) engaged them to sing at his golden
+wedding the next night. That was the beginning
+of a season of modest prosperity. Tommy&#8217;s
+baritone had married his new accompanist
+(he seemed determined to have a piano-playing
+wife), and wishing to show Miss
+Tucker that his heart was not broken by her
+rejection, he gave a handsome party and engaged
+the quartette, paying for their services
+in real coin of the realm. Other appearances
+followed in and out of town, and Tommy
+paid for her gray dress, spent a goodly sum
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_20' name='page_20'></a>20</span>
+for an attack of tonsillitis, the result of overwork,
+and still saved two hundred dollars.
+The season was over. She was fagged, but
+not disheartened. Who is at twenty-two?
+But it was late April, and drawing-room entertainments
+were no more. The two hundred
+dollars when augmented by the church
+salary would barely take her through till
+October.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It is very annoying,&#8221; thought Tommy,
+&#8220;when you have to eat, drink, sleep, and
+dress twelve months in the year, that the
+income by which you do these things should
+cease abruptly for four months. Still, furriers
+can&#8217;t sell furs in hot weather, and summer
+boarders can&#8217;t board in winter, so I suppose
+other people have to make enough money in
+eight months to spend in twelve.&#8221;</p>
+<table summary='poetry' style='margin:0 auto'><tr><td>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>&#8220;&#8216;Hark, hark, the lark at Heaven&#8217;s gate sings,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>And Ph&oelig;bus &#8217;gins to rise!&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>she caroled, splashing about in her morning
+tub as she finished making these reflections,
+the tub being an excellent place for trills and
+scales.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_21' name='page_21'></a>21</span></p>
+<p>Proceeding from tub to her sitting-room to
+make things ready for toilet and breakfast,
+her mind ran on her little problems.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I want to learn more, see more, hear
+more,&#8221; she thought. &#8220;I have one of those
+nasty, unserviceable, betwixt-and-between
+talents: voice not high enough for &#8216;Robert,
+toi que j&#8217;aime,&#8217; nor low enough for &#8216;Ständchen&#8217;;
+not flexible enough for &#8216;Caro Nome,&#8217;
+nor big enough for &#8216;Ocean, Thou Mighty
+Monster&#8217;; poor French accent, worse German;
+awfully good English, but that doesn&#8217;t
+count. Can sing old ballads, folk-songs,
+and nice, forgotten things that make dear
+old gentlemen and ladies cry&mdash;but not pay.
+If I were billed at all, it ought to be</p>
+<div class='ce'>
+<p style=' font-variant:small-caps;'>&#8220;First Appearance in Public</p>
+<p style=' font-variant:small-caps;'>of</p>
+<p style=' font-variant:small-caps;'>Behind-the-Times Tommy&#8221;</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>This appellation so tickled her fancy that
+she nearly upset the coffee-pot, and she continued
+to laugh at her own wit until a fat
+letter was pushed under her door from the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_22' name='page_22'></a>22</span>
+hall outside. She picked it up. It had an
+English postmark.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Helena Markham!&#8221; she cried, joyously.</p>
+<div class='blockquot'>
+<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Dear Tommy</span>: [the letter read]</p>
+<p>Don&#8217;t you want to come over to London for the
+season? You never make any money at home from
+June to October, and if by chance you have a
+penny in the bank (I don&#8217;t know why I say &#8220;if&#8221;
+when none of us ever had such a thing!) I think
+I can put enough in your way to pay part of your
+expenses. I am really beginning to get on!&mdash;three
+engagements in the provincial towns all arranged.
+My accompanist plays lots better than
+you do, but I don&#8217;t sing half so well with him
+as I used to with you. You somehow infuse the
+spirit into me that I lack. I incline to be lumpy
+and heavy. They may not notice it in the
+provinces, for I dare say they are lumpy and
+heavy there, too. However, though I shall have
+to have somebody well known over here for concerts
+of any great pretensions, I could work you
+into smaller ones, and coach with you, too, since
+I must have somebody. And you are so good-looking,
+Tommy dear, and have such a winning
+profile! I am plainer than ever, but no plainer
+than Madame Titiens, so the papers say. I never
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_23' name='page_23'></a>23</span>
+saw or heard her, of course, but the critics say
+I have the same large, &#8220;massive&#8221; style of voice
+and person. My present accompanist would take
+first prize for ugliness in any competition; he is
+more like a syndicate of plainness than one single
+exemplification of it! I must have a noble nature
+to think more of my audiences than of myself,
+but I should like to give them something to please
+their eyes&mdash;I flatter myself I can take care of
+their ears!</p>
+<p>Oh, do come, Tommy! Say you will!</p>
+<div class='ra'>
+<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Helena</span>.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+<p>Tommy pirouetted about the room like
+an intoxicated bird, waving the letter, and
+trilling and running joyful chromatic scales,
+for the most part badly done.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Will I go to London?&#8221; she warbled in a
+sort of improvised recitative. &#8220;Will I take
+two or two and a half lessons of Georg Henschel?
+Will I grace platforms in the English
+provinces? Will I take my two hundred dollars
+out of the bank and risk it royally? Perhaps
+the bystanders will glance in at my
+windows and observe me giving the landlady
+notice, and packing my trunk, both of
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_24' name='page_24'></a>24</span>
+which delightful tasks I shall be engaged in
+before the hour strikes.&#8221;</p>
+<div class='ce'>
+<p style=' font-size:1.4em;'>III</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>Fergus Appleton thought he saw &#8220;the singing
+girl&#8221; of his voyage from New York one
+May day in Wells, where he went to study
+the cathedral. He noticed a hansom with a
+pink-clad figure in the opening, looking like
+a rosebud of a new and odd sort on wheels.
+At least, it looked like a rosebud at the moment
+the doors rolled back like the leaves of
+a calyx, and the flower issued, triumphant
+and beautiful. She was greeted by a tall,
+stout young lady, who climbed into the hansom,
+and the two settled themselves quickly
+and drove off.</p>
+<p>Appleton&#8217;s hansom followed on its own
+course, which chanced to be in the same direction,
+and he saw the slim and the stout
+disappear up a hilly street, at the top of
+which was a famous old house. He walked
+that way in the afternoon, having nothing
+better to do, but could observe no dwelling
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_25' name='page_25'></a>25</span>
+at which the two ladies might be staying.
+There was a pretty cottage with a long,
+graveled pathway leading to it, and a little
+sign on the locked gate reading: &#8220;Spring
+Cleaning. Please do not knock or ring.&#8221;
+Farther along was a more pretentious house,
+so attractive that he was sorry he had never
+noticed it before, for the sign &#8220;Apartments
+to Let&#8221; was in one of the front windows. He
+heard a piano in the rear somewhere, but on
+reaching the front door another sign confronted
+him: &#8220;The parlor maid is slightly
+deaf. If doorbell is not answered at once,
+please step inside and ring the dinner bell
+on the hall table.&#8221;</p>
+<p>This somehow required more courage than
+Appleton possessed, though he determined
+to look at the rooms on his next visit, so he
+stole down the path and went about his business,
+wondering why in the world he had
+done such a besotted thing as to take a walk
+among the furnished lodgings of the cathedral
+town of Wells.</p>
+<p>The summer waxed. He had nearly finished
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_26' name='page_26'></a>26</span>
+his book, and feeling the need of some
+peaceful retreat where he could do the last
+chapters and work up his sketches, he took
+the advice of an English friend and went
+down to Devonshire, intending to go from
+place to place until he found a hotel and
+surroundings to his mind.</p>
+<p>The very first one pleased his exacting
+taste, and he felt that the Bexley Sands Inn
+would be the very spot in which to write;
+comfortable within, a trifle too large, perhaps,
+and at week-ends too full of people,
+but clean, well-kept, and sunny.</p>
+<p>It was a Friday evening, and the number
+of guests who arrived on the last train from
+Torquay was rather disturbing. The dining-room
+service was not interfered with, but
+Appleton made up his mind to smoke his
+pipe in his own sitting-room and go down to
+the lounge later to read the papers, when the
+crowd might have dispersed. At nine o&#8217;clock,
+accordingly, he descended, and was preparing
+to settle himself with the last &#8220;Spectator&#8221;
+when the young lady in the office observed:
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_27' name='page_27'></a>27</span>
+&#8220;There&#8217;s a very good concert going on in
+the drawing-room, sir, if you enjoy music.
+No admittance, you know; just a plate at
+the door as you leave&mdash;quite optional.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Appleton bowed his thanks, filled his pipe,
+and taking up his newspaper with a sensation
+of comfortable idleness, was beginning an
+article on the situation in the Balkans, when
+a voice floated out from the distant drawing-room,
+down the long corridor, through the
+writing-room into the lounge. It was not a
+little voice nor a big voice, it seemed to have
+no extraordinarily high notes and no low ones,
+it did not arrest attention by the agility of its
+use; but it was as fresh and young as a bird&#8217;s
+and sweeter than honey in the comb. It began
+by caroling &#8220;My Love&#8217;s an Arbutus,&#8221;
+went on to &#8220;The Little Red Lark&#8221; and
+&#8220;The Low-Backed Car,&#8221; so that Appleton,
+his head thrown back in the easy-chair, the
+smoke wreaths from his pipe circling in the
+air, the Balkans forgotten, decided that the
+singer was Irish.</p>
+<p>&#8220;A pretty voice, sir,&#8221; remarked the goddess
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_28' name='page_28'></a>28</span>
+of the hotel office. &#8220;I&#8217;m sorry so many
+of our guests are playing bowls this evening,
+and there&#8217;s a bridge party of three tables
+in our first-floor private sitting-room, or the
+young lady would have had an audience.
+She seems a nice little thing, quite a stranger,
+with no experience.&#8221;</p>
+<p>If the singer had even a small group of
+hearers, they were apparently delighted with
+&#8220;The Low-Backed Car,&#8221; for with only a
+second&#8217;s pause she gave &#8220;The Minstrel Boy.&#8221;
+A certain individual quality of tone and
+spirit managed to bridge the distance between
+the drawing-room and lounge; or perhaps
+it was the piano accompaniment, so
+beautifully played that one could almost
+imagine it a harp; or was it that the words
+were so familiar to Appleton that every
+syllable was understood, so that the passion
+and fire of the old song suffered no loss?</p>
+<table summary='poetry' style='margin:0 auto'><tr><td>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>&#8220;The minstrel fell, but the foeman&#8217;s chain</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.735835172921266em;'>Could not bring that proud soul under!</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>The harp he loved ne&#8217;er spoke again,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.735835172921266em;'>For he tore its chords asunder.&#8221;</p>
+</td></tr></table>
+
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_29' name='page_29'></a>29</span></div>
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s a pity her programme is so old-fashioned,&#8221;
+said the young lady of the office,
+passing his chair to give an order to the page.
+&#8220;It&#8217;s true only the elderly people went in,
+but our week-enders are very up-to-date
+in everything. There&#8217;s a lot of Londoners
+here, and those from Torquay are frightfully
+musical. If they don&#8217;t get Debewssy, it
+seems they think nothing of the programme.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, I confess that Debussy seems a
+trifle alien to this time and place,&#8221; said Appleton,
+&#8220;and these old ballads suit my taste
+much better. I think I&#8217;ll take a nearer view.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He shoved his pipe into its case and
+strolled down the corridor, pausing behind
+the heavy velvet portières that shut off the
+drawing-room. There was no buzz of conversation
+going on, because there was not
+a sufficient number of persons to buzz. A
+very quiet, stodgy audience it was, with no
+friendly grouping; just a few old gentlemen
+here and a few old ladies there, sometimes
+with their prematurely aged and chastened
+paid companions by their sides. There were
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_30' name='page_30'></a>30</span>
+some girls of fifteen or sixteen, too, scattered
+about, a few of them accompanied by prim
+governesses.</p>
+<p>Appleton heard the entrance of some one
+from the anteroom beyond the grand piano,
+then a few chords, struck by hands that loved
+the ivory keys and evoked a reciprocal tenderness
+every time they touched them; then:</p>
+<table summary='poetry' style='margin:0 auto'><tr><td>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>&#8220;Near Woodstock Town in Oxfordshire</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>As I walked forth to take the air,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>To view the fields and meadows round,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>Methought I heard a mournful sound.&#8221;</p>
+</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>So the chronicle ran on until the crisis came:</p>
+<table summary='poetry' style='margin:0 auto'><tr><td>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>&#8220;The lady round the meadow ran,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>And gathered flowers as they sprang.</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>Of every sort she there did pull</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>Until she got her apron full.&#8221;</p>
+</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>The history of the distracted lady&#8217;s unhappy
+passion persevered:</p>
+<table summary='poetry' style='margin:0 auto'><tr><td>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>&#8220;The green ground served her as a bed,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>The flowers a pillow for her head.</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>She laid her down and nothing spoke.</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>Alas! for love her heart was broke.&#8221;</p>
+</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>Appleton was at first too enchanted with
+the mischievous yet sympathetic rendition of
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_31' name='page_31'></a>31</span>
+this tragedy to do anything but listen. The
+voice, the speech, were so full of color and personality
+he forgot for the moment that there
+would be a face behind them; but there was
+an irresistible something in the line, &#8220;Until
+she got her apron full,&#8221; that forced him to
+peep behind the curtain just in time to catch
+the singer&#8217;s smile.</p>
+<p>As this is not a story of plot, suspense, or
+mystery, there is no earthly use in denying
+that the lady in question was Miss Thomasina
+Tucker, nor any sense in affirming that
+her appearance in Fergus Appleton&#8217;s hotel
+was in the nature of a dramatic coincidence,
+since Americans crossing the Atlantic on the
+same steamer are continually meeting in the
+British Isles and on the Continent.</p>
+<p>Appleton was pleased to see the girl again
+because he had always liked her face, and he
+was delighted to find that her voice not only
+harmonized with it, but increased its charm a
+hundredfold. Miss Tommy had several rather
+uncommon qualities in her equipment. One
+was that when she sang a high note she did it
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_32' name='page_32'></a>32</span>
+without exposing any of the avenues which
+led to her singing apparatus. She achieved her
+effects without pain to herself or to the observer,
+just flinging them off as gayly and
+irresponsibly as a bird on a bough, without
+showing any <i>modus operandi</i>. She had tenderness
+also, and fire, and a sense of humor which,
+while she never essayed a &#8220;comic&#8221; song,
+served her in good stead in certain old ballads
+with an irresistibly quaint twist in them.
+She made it perfectly clear that she was
+sorry for the poor lady who was running
+around the meadow preparing her flowery
+bier, but the conviction crept over you that
+she was secretly amused at the same time.
+Appleton heard the smile in her voice before
+he pulled aside the curtain and saw its counterpart
+on her face; heard and responded, for
+when Tommy tossed a smile at you, you
+caught it gratefully and tossed it back in the
+hope of getting a second and a third.</p>
+<p>Another arrow in Tommy&#8217;s modest quiver
+was the establishment of an instantaneous
+intimacy between herself and her audience.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_33' name='page_33'></a>33</span>
+The singing of her songs was precisely like
+the narration of so many stories, told so simply
+and directly that the most hardened critic
+would have his sting removed without being
+aware of it. He would know that Tommy
+hadn&#8217;t a remarkable voice, but he would forget
+to mention it because space was limited.
+Sometimes he would say that she was an interpreter
+rather than a singer, and Tommy,
+for her part, was glad to be called anything,
+and grateful when she wasn&#8217;t brutally arraigned
+for the microscopic size of her talent.</p>
+<p>It was Tommy&#8217;s captivating friendliness
+and the quality of her smile that &#8220;did&#8221; for
+the shyest and stiffest of men, for by the time
+she had finished her programme the thunderbolt,
+the classic, the eternal thunderbolt, had
+fallen, and Fergus Appleton was in love.
+Tommy began her unconscious depredations
+with &#8220;Near Woodstock Town&#8221; and &#8220;Phillida
+Flouts Me,&#8221; added fuel to the flames with
+&#8220;My Heart&#8217;s in the Highlands&#8221; and &#8220;Charlie
+Is My Darling,&#8221; and reduced his heart to
+ashes with &#8220;Allan Water&#8221; and &#8220;Has Sorrow
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_34' name='page_34'></a>34</span>
+Thy Young Days Shaded?&#8221; The smile
+began it, but it was tears that worked the
+final miracle, though moisture very rarely
+has this effect on fires of any sort.</p>
+<p>Tommy was tired and a bit disheartened;
+Appleton, the only responsive person in the
+audience, was seated in a far corner of the
+room, completely hidden behind a lady of
+formidable width and thickness, so the singer
+could not be expected to feel the tidal waves
+of appreciation he was sending toward her, although
+they ran so high at one moment that
+he could have risen to his feet and begged her
+to elope with him. The rest of her hearers sat
+heavily, stodgily in their seats without moving
+a muscle, mental, emotional, or physical.
+They had no private sitting-rooms, and they
+might as well be where they were as anywhere
+else; that was the idea they conveyed
+in every feature of their expressionless faces.
+An old gentleman in the front row left the
+room during the last song on the programme,
+and Appleton was beset by, and resisted, a
+vulgar temptation to put out his foot and
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_35' name='page_35'></a>35</span>
+trip him up in the doorway. When Tommy
+sang:</p>
+<table summary='poetry' style='margin:0 auto'><tr><td>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>&#8220;Has hope, like the bird in the story,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>That flitted from tree to tree</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>With the talisman&#8217;s glitt&#8217;ring glory,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>Has hope been that bird to thee?</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>On branch after branch alighting,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>The gem did she still display,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>And when nearest and most inviting,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>Then waft the fair gem away.&#8221;</p>
+</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, yes, a thousand times yes,&#8221; answered
+Fergus Appleton&#8217;s heart, for the first time in
+his life conscious of loneliness, lack of purpose,
+lack of anchorage, lack of responsibilities,
+lack of everything he had never wanted
+before, but wanted desperately all at once,
+and quite independent of logic.</p>
+<p>He slipped out of the door and let the scattered
+units in the audience assemble, pass
+him, and drift down the corridor toward the
+office and lounge. To his astonishment and
+anger they dropped shillings on the plate,
+and the young people sixpences and, great
+Heavens! even pennies; one half-crown, the
+tacit apology of the old gentleman who had
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_36' name='page_36'></a>36</span>
+left early, was the only respectable offering.
+Appleton took out a sovereign, and then was
+afraid to put it in the collection for fear of
+exciting the singer&#8217;s curiosity, so he rummaged
+his pockets for half-crowns and two-shilling
+pieces. Finding only two or three, he changed
+his mind and put back the gold-piece just in
+time to avoid the eye of the page, who came
+to take the offering back to Miss Tucker.
+Appleton twisted his mustache nervously,
+and walked slowly toward the anteroom with
+no definite idea in mind, save perhaps that
+she might issue from her retreat and recognize
+him as she passed. (As a matter of fact she
+had never once noticed him on the steamer,
+but the poor wretch was unconscious of that
+misfortune!) The page came out, putting
+something in his pocket, and left the door
+half open behind him. Appleton wheeled
+swiftly, feeling like a spy, but not until he
+had seen Miss Thomasina Tucker take a large
+copper coin from the plate, fling it across the
+room, bury the plate of silver upside down in a
+sofa cushion, and precipitate herself upon it
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_37' name='page_37'></a>37</span>
+with a little quivering wail of shame, or disappointment,
+or rage, he could hardly determine
+which.</p>
+<p>Appleton followed the unfeeling, unmusical,
+penurious old ladies and gentlemen back
+into the lounge, glaring at them as belligerently
+and offensively as a gentleman could
+and maintain his self-respect. Then he went
+into the waiting-room and embarked upon a
+positive orgy of letter-writing. Looking up
+from the last of his pile a half-hour later, he
+observed the young lady who was unconsciously
+preventing a proper flow of epistolary
+inspiration on his part, seated at a desk in the
+opposite corner. A pen was in her right hand,
+and in her left she held a tiny embroidered
+handkerchief, rather creased. Sometimes she
+bit the corner of it, sometimes she leaned her
+cheek upon it, sometimes she tapped the blotting-pad
+with the pen-handle, very much as
+if she had no particular interest in what she
+was doing, or else she was very doubtful
+about the wisdom of it.</p>
+<p>Presently she took some pennies from a
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_38' name='page_38'></a>38</span>
+small purse, and rising, took her letters with
+her with the evident intention of posting
+them. Appleton rose too, lifting his pile of
+correspondence, and followed close at her
+heels. She went to the office, laid down threepence,
+with her letters, turned, saw Fergus
+Appleton with the physical eye, but looked
+directly through him as if he were a man of
+glass and poor quality of glass at that, and
+sauntered upstairs as if she were greatly
+bored with life.</p>
+<p>However, the top letter of her three was
+addressed very plainly to the &#8220;Bishop of
+Bath and Wells,&#8221; and Fergus Appleton had
+known the bishop, and the bishop&#8217;s wife,
+for several years. Accordingly, the post-bag
+that night held two letters addressed to the
+Bishop&#8217;s Palace, and there was every prospect
+of an immediate answer to one of them.</p>
+<div class='ce'>
+<p style=' font-size:1.4em;'>IV</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>As for the country roundabout the Bexley
+Sands Inn, it is one of the loveliest in Devonshire.
+It does not waste a moment, but, realizing
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_39' name='page_39'></a>39</span>
+the brevity of week-end visits and the
+anxiety of tourists to see the greatest amount
+of scenery in the shortest space, it begins its
+duty at the very door of the inn and goes
+straight on from one stretch of loveliness to
+another.</p>
+<p>If you have been there, you remember that
+if you turn to the right and go over the stone
+bridge that crosses the sleepy river, you are
+in the very heart of beauty. You pick your
+way daintily along the edge of the road, for it
+is carpeted so thickly with sea-pinks and yellow
+and crimson crow&#8217;s-foot that you scarcely
+know where to step. Sea-poppies there are,
+too, groves of them, growing in the sandy
+stretches that lie close to and border the wide,
+shingly beach. In summer the long, low, narrow
+stone bridge crosses no water, but just
+here is an acre or two of tall green rushes.
+You walk down the bank a few steps and sit
+under the shadow of a wall. The green garden
+of rushes stretches in front of you, with a still,
+shallow pool between you and it, a pool floating
+with blossoming water-weeds. On the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_40' name='page_40'></a>40</span>
+edge of the rushes grow tall yellow irises in
+great profusion; the cuckoo&#8217;s note sounds in
+the distance; the sun, the warmth, the intoxication
+of color, make you drowsy, and you lean
+back among the green things, close your eyes,
+and then begin listening to the wonderful
+music of the rushes. A million million reeds
+stirred by the breeze bend to and fro, making
+a faint silken sound like that of a summer
+wave lapping the shore, but far more
+ethereal.</p>
+<p>Thomasina Tucker went down the road,
+laden with books, soon after breakfast Monday
+morning. Appleton waited until after the
+post came in, and having received much-desired
+letters and observed with joy the week-enders
+setting forth, hither and thither on
+their return journeys, followed what he supposed
+to be Miss Tucker&#8217;s route; at least, it
+was her route on Saturday and Sunday, and
+he could not suppose her to harbor caprice
+or any other feminine weakness.</p>
+<p>Yes, there she was, in the very loveliest
+nook, the stone wall at her back, and in front
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_41' name='page_41'></a>41</span>
+nice sandy levels for books and papers and
+writing-pad.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Miss Tucker, may I invade your solitude
+for a moment? Our mutual friend, the Bishop
+of Bath and Wells, has written asking me to
+look you up as a fellow countryman and see
+if I can be of any service to you so far away
+from home.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Tommy looked up, observed a good-looking
+American holding a letter in one hand and
+lifting a hat with the other, and bade him
+welcome.</p>
+<p>&#8220;How kind of the bishop! But he is always
+doing kind things; his wife, too. I have seen
+much of them since I came to England.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;My name is Appleton, Fergus Appleton,
+at your service.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Won&#8217;t you take a stone, or make yourself
+a hollow in the sand?&#8221; asked Tommy hospitably.
+&#8220;I came out here to read and study,
+and get rid of the week-enders. Isn&#8217;t Bexley
+Sands a lovely spot, and do you ever get tired
+of the bacon and the kippered herring, and
+the fruit tarts with Devonshire cream?&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_42' name='page_42'></a>42</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;I can&#8217;t bear to begin an acquaintance
+with a lady by differing on such vital points,
+but I do get tired of these Bexley delicacies.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Perhaps you have been here too long&mdash;or
+have you just come this morning?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Appleton swallowed his disappointment
+and hurt vanity, and remarked: &#8220;No, I came
+on Friday.&#8221; (He laid some emphasis on Friday.)</p>
+<p>&#8220;The evening train is so incorrigibly slow!
+I only reached the hotel at ten o&#8217;clock when
+I arrived on Thursday night.&#8221; Miss Tucker
+shot a rapid glance at the young man as she
+made this remark.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I came by the morning express and arrived
+here at three on Friday,&#8221; said Appleton.</p>
+<p>Miss Tucker, with a slight display of perhaps
+legitimate temper, turned suddenly
+upon him. &#8220;There! I have been trying for
+two minutes to find out when you came, and
+now I know you were at my beastly concert
+on Friday evening!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I certainly was, and very grateful I am,
+too.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_43' name='page_43'></a>43</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;I suppose all through my life people will
+be turning up who were in that room!&#8221; said
+Miss Tucker ungraciously. &#8220;I must tell somebody
+what I feel about that concert! I should
+prefer some one who wasn&#8217;t a stranger, but
+you are a great deal better than nobody. Do
+you mind?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Appleton laughed like a boy, and flung
+his hat a little distance into a patch of sea-pinks.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Not a bit. Use me, or abuse me, as you
+like, so long as you don&#8217;t send me away, for
+this was my favorite spot before you chose
+it for yours.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I live in New York, and I came abroad
+early in the summer,&#8221; began Tommy.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I know that already!&#8221; interrupted Appleton.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, I suppose the bishop told you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, I came with you; that is, I was your
+fellow passenger.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Did you? Why, I never saw you on the
+boat.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;My charms are not so dazzling that I
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_44' name='page_44'></a>44</span>
+expect them to be noted and remembered,&#8221;
+laughed Appleton.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It is true I was very tired, and excited,
+and full of anxieties,&#8221; said Tommy meekly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t apologize! If you tried for an hour,
+you couldn&#8217;t guess just why I noticed and
+remembered <i>you</i>!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I conclude then it was not for <i>my</i> dazzling
+charms,&#8221; Tommy answered saucily.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It was because you wore the only flower
+I ever notice, one that is associated with my
+earliest childhood. I never knew a woman
+to wear a bunch of mignonette before.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Some one sent it to me, I remember, and
+it had some hideous scarlet pinks in the middle.
+I put the pinks in my room and pinned
+on the mignonette because it matched my
+dress. I am very fond of green.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;My mother loved mignonette. We always
+had beds of it in our garden and pots of
+it growing in the house in winter. I can smell
+it whenever I close my eyes.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Tommy glanced at him. She felt something
+in his voice that she liked, something that
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_45' name='page_45'></a>45</span>
+attracted her and wakened an instantaneous
+response.</p>
+<p>&#8220;But go on,&#8221; he said. &#8220;I only know as yet
+that you sailed from New York in the early
+summer, as I did.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, I went to London to join a great
+friend, a singer, Helena Markham. Have you
+heard of her?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No; is she an American?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, a Western girl, from Montana, with
+oh! such a magnificent voice and such a big
+talent!&#8221; (The outward sweep of Tommy&#8217;s
+hands took in the universe.) &#8220;We&#8217;ve had
+some heavenly weeks together. I play accompaniments,
+and&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I know you do!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I forgot for the moment how much too
+much you know! I went with her to Birmingham,
+and Manchester, and Leeds, and Liverpool.
+I wasn&#8217;t really grand enough for her,
+but the audiences didn&#8217;t notice me, Helena
+was so superb. In between I took some lessons
+of Henschel. He told me I hadn&#8217;t much
+voice, but very nice brains. I am always called
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_46' name='page_46'></a>46</span>
+&#8216;intelligent,&#8217; and no one can imagine how
+I hate the word!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It is offensive, but not so bad as some
+others. I, for example, have been called a
+&#8216;conscientious writer&#8217;!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, are you a writer?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Of a sort, yes. But, as you were saying&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;As I was saying, everything was going so
+beautifully until ten days ago, when Helena&#8217;s
+people cabled her to come home. Her mother
+is seriously ill and cannot live more than a
+few months. She went at once, but I couldn&#8217;t
+go with her&mdash;not very well, in midsummer&mdash;and
+so here I am, all alone, high and dry.&#8221;</p>
+<p>She leaned her chin in the cup of her hand
+and, looking absent-mindedly at the shimmering
+rushes, fell into a spell of silence that took
+no account of Appleton.</p>
+<p>To tell the truth, he didn&#8217;t mind looking
+at her unobserved for a moment or two. He
+had almost complete control of his senses,
+and he didn&#8217;t believe she could be as pretty
+as he thought she was. There was no reason
+to think that she was better to look at than
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_47' name='page_47'></a>47</span>
+an out-and-out beauty. Her nose wasn&#8217;t
+Greek. It was just a trifle faulty, but it was
+piquant and full of mischief. There was nothing
+to be said against her mouth or her eyelashes,
+which were beyond criticism, and he
+particularly liked the way her dark-brown
+hair grew round her temples and her ears&mdash;but
+the quality in her face that appealed most
+to Appleton was a soft and touching youthfulness.</p>
+<p>Suddenly she remembered herself, and began
+again:</p>
+<p>&#8220;Miss Markham and I had twice gone to
+large seaside hotels with great success, but,
+of course, she had a manager and a reputation.
+I thought I would try the same thing
+alone in some very quiet retreat, and see if
+it would do. Oh! wasn&#8217;t it funny!&#8221; (Here she
+broke into a perfectly childlike fit of laughter.)
+&#8220;It was such a well-behaved, solemn
+little audience, that never gave me an inkling
+of its liking or its loathing.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes, it did!&#8221; remonstrated Appleton.
+&#8220;They loved your Scotch songs.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_48' name='page_48'></a>48</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Silently!&#8221; cried Tommy. &#8220;I had dozens
+and dozens of other things upstairs to sing to
+them, but I thought I was suiting my programme
+to the place and the people. I looked
+at them during luncheon and made my selections.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You are flattering the week-enders.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I believe you are musical,&#8221; she ventured,
+looking up at him as she played with a tuft
+of sea-pinks.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am passionately fond of singing, so I
+seldom go to concerts,&#8221; he answered, somewhat
+enigmatically. &#8220;Your programme was
+an enchanting one to me.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It was good of its kind, if the audience
+would have helped me,&#8221;&mdash;and Tommy&#8217;s lip
+trembled a little; &#8220;but perhaps I could have
+borne that, if it hadn&#8217;t been for the&mdash;plate.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Not a pleasant custom, and a new one to
+me,&#8221; said Appleton.</p>
+<p>&#8220;And to me!&#8221; (Here she made a little
+grimace of disgust.) &#8220;I knew beforehand I
+had to face the plate&mdash;but the contents!
+Where did you sit?&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_49' name='page_49'></a>49</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;I was forced to stay a trifle in the background,
+I entered so late. It was your &#8216;Minstrel
+Boy&#8217; that dragged me out of my armchair
+in the lounge.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Then perhaps you saw the plate? I know
+by your face that you did! You saw the sixpences,
+which I shall never forget, and the
+pennies, which I will never forgive! I thirst for
+the blood of those who put in pennies!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;They would all have been sitting in boiling
+oil since Friday if I had had my way,&#8221;
+responded Appleton.</p>
+<p>Tommy laughed delightedly. &#8220;I know now
+who put in the sovereign! I knew every face
+in that audience&mdash;that wasn&#8217;t difficult in
+so small a one&mdash;and I tried and tried to fix
+the sovereign on any one of them, and couldn&#8217;t.
+At last I determined that it was the old
+gentleman who went out in the middle of
+&#8216;Allan Water,&#8217; feeling that he would rather
+pay anything than stay any longer. Confess!
+it <i>was</i> you!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Appleton felt very sheepish as he met
+Tommy&#8217;s dancing eyes and heightened color.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_50' name='page_50'></a>50</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;I couldn&#8217;t bear to let you see those pennies,&#8221;
+he stammered, &#8220;but I couldn&#8217;t get
+them out before the page came to take the
+plate.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Perhaps you were &#8216;pound foolish,&#8217; and
+the others were &#8216;penny wise,&#8217; but it was awfully
+nice of you. If I can pay my bill here
+without spending that sovereign, I believe
+I&#8217;ll keep it for a lucky piece. I shall be very
+rich by Saturday night, anyway.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;A legacy due?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Goodness, no! I haven&#8217;t a relation in
+the world except one, who disapproves of me;
+not so much as I disapprove of him, however.
+No, Albert Spalding and Donald Tovey have
+engaged me for a concert in Torquay.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I have some business in Torquay which
+will keep me there for a few days on my way
+back to Wells,&#8221; said Appleton nonchalantly.
+(The bishop&#8217;s letter had been a pure and undefiled
+source of information on all points.)</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why, how funny! I hope you&#8217;ll be there
+on Saturday. There&#8217;ll be no plate! Tickets
+two and six to seven and six, but you shall
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_51' name='page_51'></a>51</span>
+be my guest, my sovereign guest. I am going
+to Wells myself to stay till&mdash;till I make up
+my mind about a few things.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;America next?&#8221; inquired Appleton, keeping
+his voice as colorless as possible.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t know. Helena made me resign my
+church position in Brooklyn, and for the moment
+my &#8216;career&#8217; is undecided.&#8221;</p>
+<p>She laughed, but her eyes denied the mirth
+that her lips affirmed, and Appleton had such
+a sudden, illogical desire to meddle with her
+career, to help or hinder it, to have a hand
+in it at any rate, that he could hardly hold his
+tongue.</p>
+<p>&#8220;The Torquay concert will be charming,
+I hope. You know what Spalding&#8217;s violin-playing
+is, and Donald Tovey is a young
+genius at piano-playing and composing. He
+is going to accompany me in some of his
+own songs, and he wants me to sing a group
+of American ones&mdash;Macdowell, Chadwick,
+Nevin, Mrs. Beach, and Margaret Lang.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I hope you&#8217;ll accompany yourself in some
+of your own ballads!&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_52' name='page_52'></a>52</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;No, the occasion is too grand; unless
+they should happen to like me very much.
+Then I could play for myself, and sing
+&#8216;Allan Water,&#8217; or &#8216;Believe Me,&#8217; or &#8216;Early
+One Morning,&#8217; or &#8216;Barbara Allen.&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+<p>(Appleton wondered if a claque of sizable,
+trustworthy boys could be secured in Torquay,
+and under his intelligent and inspired
+leadership carry Miss Thomasina Tucker
+like a cork on the wave of success.)</p>
+<p>&#8220;Wouldn&#8217;t it be lunch-time?&#8221; asked Miss
+Tucker, after a slight pause.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It is always time for something when I&#8217;m
+particularly enjoying myself,&#8221; grumbled Appleton,
+looking at his watch. &#8220;It&#8217;s not quite
+one o&#8217;clock. Must we go in?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes; we&#8217;ve ten minutes&#8217; walk,&#8221;&mdash;and
+Tommy scrambled up and began to
+brush sand from her skirts.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Couldn&#8217;t I sit at your table&mdash;under
+the chaperonage of the Bishop of Bath and
+Wells?&#8221; And Appleton got on his feet and
+collected Tommy&#8217;s books.</p>
+<p>The girl&#8217;s laugh was full-hearted this time.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_53' name='page_53'></a>53</span>
+&#8220;Certainly not,&#8221; she said. &#8220;What does Bexley
+Sands know of the bishop and his interest in
+us? But if you can find the drawing-room utterly
+deserted at any time, I&#8217;ll sing for you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;How about a tea-basket and a walk to
+Gray Rocks at four o&#8217;clock?&#8221; asked Appleton
+as they strolled toward the hotel.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Charming! And I love singing out of
+doors without accompaniment. I&#8217;m determined
+to earn that sovereign in course of
+time! Are you from New England?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes; and you?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, I&#8217;m from New York. I was born in
+a row of brown-stone fronts, in a numbered
+street, twenty-five or thirty houses to a
+block, all exactly alike. I wonder how I&#8217;ve
+outlived my start. And you?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;In the country, bless it,&mdash;in the eastern
+part of Massachusetts. We had a garden and
+my mother and I lived in it during all the
+months of my life that matter. That&#8217;s where
+the mignonette grew.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;&#8216;And He planted a garden eastward in
+Eden,&#8217;&#8221; quoted Tommy, half to herself.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_54' name='page_54'></a>54</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s the only Eden I ever knew! Do you
+like it over here, Miss Tucker, or are you
+homesick now that your friend is in America?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, I&#8217;m never homesick; for the reason
+that I have never had any home since I was
+ten years old, when I was left an orphan. I
+haven&#8217;t any deep roots in New York; it&#8217;s
+like the ocean, too big to love. I respect and
+admire the ocean, but I love a little river.
+You know the made-over aphorism: &#8216;The
+home is where the hat is&#8217;? For &#8216;hat&#8217; read
+&#8216;trunk,&#8217; and you have my case, precisely.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;That&#8217;s because you are absurdly, riotously
+young! It won&#8217;t suit you forever.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Does anything suit one forever?&#8221; asked
+Tommy frivolously, not cynically, but making
+Appleton a trifle uncomfortable nevertheless.
+&#8220;Anything except singing, I mean? Perhaps
+you feel the same way about writing?
+You haven&#8217;t told me anything about your
+work, and I&#8217;ve confided my past history,
+present prospects, and future aspirations to
+you!&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_55' name='page_55'></a>55</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;There&#8217;s not so much to say. It is good
+work, and it is growing better. I studied architecture
+at the Beaux-Arts. I do art-criticism,
+and I write about buildings chiefly. That
+would seem rather dull to a warbler like you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Not a bit. Doesn&#8217;t somebody say that
+architecture is frozen music?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t get as immediate response to my
+work as you do to yours.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, but you never had sixpences and
+pennies put into your plate! Now give me
+my books, please. I&#8217;ll go in at the upper gate
+alone, and run upstairs to my room. You
+enter by the lower one and go through the
+lounge, where the guests chiefly congregate
+waiting for the opening of the dining-room.
+Au revoir!&#8221;</p>
+<p>When Tommy opened her bedroom door
+she elevated her pretty, impertinent little
+nose and sniffed the air. It was laden with
+a delicate perfume that came from a huge
+bunch of mignonette on the table. It was
+long-stemmed, fresh, and moist, loosely bound
+together, and every one of its tiny brown blossoms
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_56' name='page_56'></a>56</span>
+was sending out fragrance into the room.
+It did not need Fergus Appleton&#8217;s card to
+identify the giver, but there it was.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What a nice, kind, understanding person
+he is! And how cheerful it makes life to have
+somebody from your own country taking an
+interest in you, and liking your singing, and
+hating those beastly pennies!&#8221; And Tommy,
+quickly merging artist in woman, slipped on
+a coatee of dull-green crêpe over her old black
+taffeta, and taking down her hat with the garland
+of mignonette from the shelf in her closet,
+tucked some of the green sprays in her belt,
+and went down to luncheon. She didn&#8217;t know
+where Fergus Appleton&#8217;s table was, but she
+would make her seat face his. Then she could
+smile thanks at him over the mulligatawny
+soup, or the filet of sole, or the boiled mutton,
+or the apple tart. Even the Bishop of Bath
+and Wells couldn&#8217;t object to that!</p>
+<div class='ce'>
+<p style=' font-size:1.4em;'>V</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>Their friendship grew perceptibly during
+the next two days, though constantly under
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_57' name='page_57'></a>57</span>
+the espionage of the permanent guests of the
+Bexley Sands Inn, but on Wednesday night
+Miss Tucker left for Torquay, according to
+schedule. Fergus Appleton remained behind,
+partly to make up arrears in his literary work,
+and partly as a sop to decency and common
+sense. He did not deem it either proper or
+dignified to escort the young lady on her
+journey (particularly as he had not been asked
+to do so), so he pined in solitary confinement
+at Bexley until Saturday morning, when he
+followed her to the scene of her labors.</p>
+<p>After due reflection he gave up the idea of
+the claque, and rested Tommy&#8217;s case on the
+knees of the gods, where it transpired that
+it was much safer, for Torquay liked Tommy,
+and the concert went off with enormous éclat.
+From the moment that Miss Thomasina
+Tucker appeared on the platform the audience
+looked pleased. She wore a quaint dress
+of white flounced chiffon, with a girdle of
+green, and a broad white hat with her old
+mignonette garland made into two little nosegays
+perched on either side of the transparent
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_58' name='page_58'></a>58</span>
+brim. She could not wear the mignonette
+that Appleton had sent to her dressing-room,
+because she would have been obscured by
+the size of the offering, but she carried as
+much of it as her strength permitted, and
+laid the fragrant bouquet on the piano as she
+passed it. (A poem had come with it, but
+Tommy did not dare read it until the ordeal
+was over, for no one had ever written her a
+poem before. It had three long verses, and
+was signed &#8220;F.A.&#8221;&mdash;that was all she had
+time to note.)</p>
+<p>A long-haired gentleman sitting beside
+Appleton remarked to his neighbor: &#8220;The
+girl looks like a flower; it&#8217;s a pity she has such
+a heathenish name! Why didn&#8217;t they call her
+Hope, or Flora, or Egeria, or Cecilia?&#8221;</p>
+<p>When the audience found that Miss Tucker&#8217;s
+singing did not belie her charming appearance,
+they cast discretion to the winds
+and loved her. Appleton himself marveled at
+the beauty of her performance as it budded
+and bloomed under the inspiration of her fellow
+artists and the favor of the audience, and
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_59' name='page_59'></a>59</span>
+the more he admired the more depressed he
+became.</p>
+<p>&#8220;She may be on the threshold of a modest
+&#8216;career,&#8217; of a sort, after all,&#8221; he thought, &#8220;and
+she will never give it up for me. Would she
+be willing to combine me with the career, and
+how would it work? I shouldn&#8217;t be churl
+enough to mind her singing now and then,
+but it seems to me I couldn&#8217;t stand &#8216;tours.&#8217;
+Besides, hers is such a childlike, winsome,
+fragrant little gift it ought not to be exploited
+like a great, booming talent!&#8221;</p>
+<p>The audience went wild over Donald
+Tovey&#8217;s songs. He played, and Tommy sang
+them from memory, and it seemed as if they
+had been written then and there, struck off
+at white heat; as if the composer happened
+to be at the piano, and the singer chanced
+with his help to be interpreting those particular
+verses for that particular moment.</p>
+<p>His setting of &#8220;Jock o&#8217;Hazeldean&#8221; proved
+irresistible:</p>
+<table summary='poetry' style='margin:0 auto'><tr><td>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>&#8220;They sought her baith by bower an ha&#8217;;</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 1.1037527593819em;'>The ladie was not seen.&#8221;</p>
+</td></tr></table>
+
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_60' name='page_60'></a>60</span></div>
+<p>And then with a swirl and a torrent of
+sound, a clangor of sword and a clatter of
+hoofs:</p>
+<table summary='poetry' style='margin:0 auto'><tr><td>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>&#8220;She&#8217;s o&#8217;er the Border and awa&#8217;</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 1.83958793230316em;'>Wi&#8217; Jock o&#8217; Hazeldean.&#8221;</p>
+</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>Appleton didn&#8217;t see any valid reason why
+Tovey should kiss Tommy&#8217;s hand in responding
+to the third recall, but supposed it must
+be a composer&#8217;s privilege, and wished that
+he were one.</p>
+<p>Then the crowd made its way into the
+brilliant Torquay sunshine, and Appleton
+lingered in the streets until the time came for
+the tea-party arranged for the artists at the
+hotel.</p>
+<p>It was a gay little gathering, assisted by a
+charming lady of the town, who always knew
+the celebrated people who flock there in all
+seasons. Spalding and Tovey were the lions,
+but Miss Thomasina Tucker did not lack for
+compliments. Her cheeks glowed and her
+eyes sparkled under the white tulle brim of
+her hat. Her neck looked deliciously white
+and young, rising from its transparent chiffons,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_61' name='page_61'></a>61</span>
+and her bunch of mignonette gave a
+note of delicate distinction. The long-haired
+gentleman was present, and turned out to
+be a local poet. He told Miss Tucker that
+she ought never to wear or to carry another
+flower. &#8220;Not, at all events, till you pass
+thirty!&#8221; he said. &#8220;You belong together&mdash;you,
+your songs, and the mignonette!&#8221;&mdash;at
+which she flung a shy upward glance at Appleton,
+saying: &#8220;It is this American friend
+who has really established the connection,
+though I have always worn green and white
+and always loved the flower.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You sent me some verses, Mr. Appleton,&#8221;
+she said, as the poet moved away. &#8220;I have
+them safe&#8221; (and she touched her bodice),
+&#8220;but I haven&#8217;t had a quiet moment to read
+them.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Just a little tribute,&#8221; Appleton answered
+carelessly. &#8220;Are you leaving? If so, I&#8217;ll get
+your flowers into a cab and drive you on.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No. I am going, quite unexpectedly, to
+Exeter to-night. Let us sit down in this
+corner a moment and I&#8217;ll tell you. Mr. Tovey
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_62' name='page_62'></a>62</span>
+has asked me to substitute for a singer who
+is ill. The performance is on Monday and I
+chance to know the cantata. I shall not be
+paid, but it will be a fine audience and it may
+lead to something; after all, it&#8217;s not out of
+my way in going to Wells.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Aren&#8217;t you overtired to travel any more
+to-night?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, I am treading air! I have no sense
+of being in the body at all. Mrs. Cholmondeley,
+that dark-haired lady you were talking
+with a moment ago, lives in Exeter and
+will take me to her house. And how nice that
+I don&#8217;t have to say good-bye, for you still
+mean to go to Wells?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes! I haven&#8217;t nearly finished with
+the cathedral&mdash;I shall be there before you.
+Can I look up lodgings or do anything for
+you?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, no, thank you. I shall go to the old
+place where Miss Markham and I lived before.
+The bishop and Mrs. Kennion sent us
+there because there is a piano, and the old
+ladies, being deaf, don&#8217;t mind musical lodgers.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_63' name='page_63'></a>63</span>
+Didn&#8217;t the concert go off beautifully! Such
+artists, those two men; so easy to do one&#8217;s
+best in such company.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It was a triumph! Doesn&#8217;t it completely
+efface the memory of the plate and the
+pennies?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes,&#8221; Tommy answered. &#8220;I bear no ill-will
+to any living creature. The only flaw is
+my horrid name. Can&#8217;t you think of another
+for me? I&#8217;ve just had an anonymous
+note. Hear it!&#8221; (taking it from her glove):</p>
+<div class='blockquot'>
+<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Dear Madam</span>:</p>
+<p>The name of Thomasina Tucker is one of those
+bizarre Americanisms that pain us so frequently
+in England. I fancy you must have assumed it for
+public use, and if so, I beg you will change it now,
+before you become too famous. The grotesque
+name of Thomasina Tucker belittles your exquisite
+art.</p>
+<div class='ra'>
+<p style=' margin-right:4em;'>Very truly yours,</p>
+<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>A Well Wisher.</span></p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+<p>&#8220;What do you think of that?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Appleton laughed heartily and scanned
+the note. &#8220;It is from some doddering old
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_64' name='page_64'></a>64</span>
+woman,&#8221; he said. &#8220;The name given you
+by your sponsors in baptism to be condemned
+as a &#8216;bizarre Americanism&#8217;!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I cannot think why the loyalty of my
+dear mother and father to Tucker, and to
+Thomas, should have made them saddle me
+with such a handicap! They might have
+known I was going to sing, for I bawled
+incessantly from birth to the age of twelve
+months. I shall have to change my name,
+and you must help me to choose. Au revoir!&#8221;&mdash;and
+she darted away with a handshake
+and a friendly backward glance from the
+door.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Can I think of another name for her?&#8221;
+apostrophized Appleton to himself. &#8220;Can
+feminine unconsciousness and cruelty go
+farther than that? Another name for her
+shrieks from the very housetops, and I agree
+with &#8216;Well Wisher&#8217; that she ought to take
+it before she becomes too famous; before
+it would be necessary, for instance, to describe
+her as Madame Tucker-Appleton!&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_65' name='page_65'></a>65</span></p>
+<div class='ce'>
+<p style=' font-size:1.4em;'>VI</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>These are the verses:</p>
+<table summary='poetry' style='margin:0 auto'><tr><td>
+<p  style='text-align: center;'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>To Miss Tommy Tucker</span></p>
+<p  style='text-align: center;'>(<span style='font-variant: small-caps'>with a bunch of mignonette</span>)</p>
+<br />
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>A garden and a yellow wedge</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 1.1037527593819em;'>Of sunshine slipping through,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>And there, beside a bit of hedge,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 1.1037527593819em;'>Forget-me-nots so blue,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>Bright four-o&#8217;clocks and spicy pinks,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 1.1037527593819em;'>And sweet, old-fashioned roses,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>With daffodils and crocuses,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 1.1037527593819em;'>And other fragrant posies,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>And in a corner, &#8217;neath the shade</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>By flowering apple branches made,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 2.57542310522443em;'>Grew mignonette.</p>
+<br />
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>I do not know, I cannot say,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 1.1037527593819em;'>Why, when I hear you sing,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>Those by-gone days come back to me,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 1.1037527593819em;'>And in their long train bring</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>To mind that dear old garden, with</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 1.1037527593819em;'>Its hovering honey-bees,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>And liquid-throated songsters on</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 1.1037527593819em;'>The blossom-laden trees;</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>Nor why a fragrance, fresh and rare,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>Should on a sudden fill the air,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 2.57542310522443em;'>Of mignonette!</p>
+<br />
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_66' name='page_66'></a>66</span></div>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>Your mem&#8217;ry seems a garden fair</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 1.1037527593819em;'>Of old-time flowers of song.</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>There Annie Laurie lives and loves,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 1.1037527593819em;'>And Mary Morison,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>And Black-eyed Susan, Alice Grey,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 1.1037527593819em;'>Phillida, with her frown&mdash;</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>And Barbara Allen, false and fair,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 1.1037527593819em;'>From famous Scarlet Town.</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>What marvel such a garland rare</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>Should breathe sweet odors on the air,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 2.57542310522443em;'>Like mignonette?</p>
+<p  style='text-align: right;'>F. A.       </p>
+</td></tr></table>
+
+<div class='ce'>
+<p style=' font-size:1.4em;'>VII</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>There was never such a summer of enchanting
+weather as that particular summer
+in Wells. The whole population of Somersetshire,
+save those who had crops requiring
+rain, were in a heaven of delight from
+morning till night. Miss Tommy Tucker
+was very busy with some girl pupils, and as
+accompanist for oratorio practice; but there
+were blissful hours when she &#8220;studied&#8221; the
+cathedral with Fergus Appleton, watching
+him sketch the stately Central Tower, or
+the Lady Chapel, or the Chain Gate. There
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_67' name='page_67'></a>67</span>
+were afternoon walks to Tor Hill, winding
+up almost daily with tea at the palace, for
+the bishop and his wife were miracles of
+hospitality to the two Americans.</p>
+<p>Fergus Appleton had declared the state of
+his mind and heart to Mrs. Kennion a few days
+after his arrival, though after his confidence
+had been received she said that it was quite
+unnecessary, as she had guessed the entire situation
+the moment she saw them together.</p>
+<p>&#8220;If you do, it is more than Miss Tucker
+does,&#8221; said Appleton, &#8220;for I can&#8217;t flatter
+myself that she suspects in the least what I
+am about.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You haven&#8217;t said anything yet?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;My dear Mrs. Kennion, I&#8217;ve known
+her less than a fortnight! It&#8217;s bad enough
+for a man to fall in love in that absurd
+length of time, but I wouldn&#8217;t ask a girl
+to marry me on two weeks&#8217; acquaintance.
+It would simply be courting refusal.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am glad you feel that way about it,
+for we have grown greatly attached to Miss
+Tucker,&#8221; said the bishop&#8217;s wife. &#8220;She is
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_68' name='page_68'></a>68</span>
+so simple and unaffected, so lovable, and
+such good company! So alone in the world,
+yet so courageous and independent. I
+hope it will come out all right for your dear
+mother&#8217;s son,&#8221; she added affectionately,
+with a squeeze of her kind hand. &#8220;Miss
+Tucker is dining here to-morrow, and you
+must come, too, for she has offered to sing
+for our friends.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Everybody agreed that Mrs. Kennion&#8217;s
+party for the young American singer was
+a delightful and memorable occasion. She
+gave them song after song, accompanying
+herself on the Erard grand piano, at which
+she always made such a pretty picture. It
+drifted into a request programme, and
+Tommy, whose memory was inexhaustible,
+seemed always to have the wished-for song
+at the tip of her tongue, were it English,
+Scotch, Irish, or Welsh. There was general
+laughter and surprise when Madame Eriksson,
+a Norwegian lady who was among the
+guests, asked her for a certain song of Halfdan
+Kjerulf&#8217;s.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_69' name='page_69'></a>69</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;I only know it in its English translation,&#8221;
+Tommy said, &#8220;and I haven&#8217;t sung
+it for a year, but I think I remember it.
+Forgive me if I halt in the words:</p>
+<table summary='poetry' style='margin:0 auto'><tr><td>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>&#8220;&#8216;I hardly know, my darling,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>What mostly took my heart,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>Unless perhaps your singing</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>Has done the greater part.</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>I&#8217;ve thrilled to many voices,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>The passionate, the strong,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>But I forgot the singer,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>And I forgot the song.</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>But there&#8217;s one song, my darling,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>That I can ne&#8217;er forget.</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>I listened and I trembled,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>And felt my cheek was wet;</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>It seemed my heart within me</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>Gave answer clear and low</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>When first I heard you sing, dear,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>Then first I loved you so!&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>Tommy had sung the song hundreds of
+times in earlier years, and she had not the
+slightest self-consciousness when she began
+it; but just as she reached the last four
+lines her eyes met Fergus Appleton&#8217;s. He
+was seated in a far corner of the room,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_70' name='page_70'></a>70</span>
+leaning eagerly forward, with one arm on the
+back of a chair in front of him. She was
+singing the words to the company, but if
+ever a man was uttering and confirming
+them it was Fergus Appleton at that moment.
+The blindest woman could see, the
+deafest could hear, the avowal.</p>
+<p>Tommy caught her breath quickly, looked
+away, braced her memory, and finished, to
+the keen delight of old Madame Eriksson,
+who rose and kissed her on both cheeks.</p>
+<p>Tommy was glad that her part of the
+evening was over, and to cover her confusion
+offered to sing something of her
+own composing, the Mother Goose rhyme
+of &#8220;Little Tommy Tucker Sings for His
+Supper,&#8221; arranged as an operatic recitative
+and aria. The humor of this performance
+penetrated even to the remotest fastnesses
+of the staid cathedral circle, and the palace
+party ended in something that positively
+resembled merriment, a consummation not
+always to be reached in gatherings exclusively
+clerical in character.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_71' name='page_71'></a>71</span></p>
+<p>The bishop&#8217;s coachman always drove
+Miss Tucker home, and Appleton always
+walked to his lodgings, which were in the
+opposite direction, so nothing could be
+done that night, but he determined that
+another sun should not go down before he
+put his fate to the touch.</p>
+<p>How could he foresee what the morning
+post would bring and deposit, like an unwelcome
+bomb, upon his breakfast tray?</p>
+<p>His London publishers wanted to see him
+at once, not only on a multitude of details
+concerning his forthcoming book, but on a
+subject, as they hoped, of great interest and
+importance to him.</p>
+<p>Thinking it a matter of a day or so,
+Appleton scribbled notes to Mrs. Kennion
+and Miss Tucker, with whom he was to go
+on an excursion, and departed forthwith to
+London.</p>
+<p>Everything happened in London. The
+American publishers wanted a different
+title for the book and four more chapters
+to lengthen it to a size selling (at a profit)
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_72' name='page_72'></a>72</span>
+for two dollars and a half. The English
+publishers thought he had dealt rather
+slightingly with a certain very interesting
+period, and he remembered, guiltily, that
+he had been at Bexley Sands when he wrote
+the chapters in question. It would take
+three days&#8217; labor to fill up these gaps, he
+calculated, and how fortunate that Miss
+Thomasina Tucker was safely entrenched in
+the heart of an ecclesiastical stronghold for
+the next month or two; a town where he
+had not, so far as he knew, a single formidable
+rival. He wrote her regarding his unexpected
+engagements, adding with legitimate
+pride that one of England&#8217;s foremost
+critics had offered to write a preface for his
+book; then he settled to his desk and slaved
+at his task until it was accomplished, when
+he departed with a beating heart for the
+town and county that held Miss Thomasina
+Tucker in their keeping.</p>
+<p>Alighting at the familiar railway station,
+he took a hansom, intending to drop his portmanteau
+at his lodgings and go on to the palace
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_73' name='page_73'></a>73</span>
+for news, but as he was driving by the
+deanery on the north side of Cathedral Green,
+he encountered Mrs. Kennion in her victoria.
+She signaled him with her hand and spoke
+to her coachman, who drew up his horses.
+Alighting from his hansom, he strode forward
+to take her welcoming hand, his face radiating
+the pleasure of a home-coming traveler.</p>
+<p>&#8220;If you&#8217;ll let the cabman take your luggage,
+I&#8217;d like to drive you home myself. I
+have something to tell you,&#8221; said Mrs.
+Kennion, making room for him by her side.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Nothing has happened, I hope?&#8221; he
+asked anxiously.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Miss Tucker is leaving for America
+to-morrow morning.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Going away?&#8221; Appleton&#8217;s tone was one
+of positive dismay.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes. It is all very sudden and unexpected.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Sailing to-morrow?&#8221; exclaimed Appleton,
+taking out his watch. &#8220;From where?
+How can I get there?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Not sailing to-morrow&mdash;leaving Wells
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_74' name='page_74'></a>74</span>
+to-morrow on an early train and sailing
+Saturday from Southampton.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, the world is not lost entirely, then!&#8221;&mdash;and
+Appleton leaned back and wiped his
+forehead. &#8220;What has happened? I ought
+never to have gone to London.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;She had a cable yesterday from her
+Brooklyn church, offering her a better
+position in the choir, but saying that they
+could hold it only ten days. By post on
+the same day she received a letter from a
+New York friend&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Was it a Carl Bothwick?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No; a Miss Macleod, who said that a
+much better position was in the market in a
+church where Miss Tucker had influential
+friends. She was sure that if Miss Tucker
+returned immediately to sing for the committee
+she could secure a thousand-dollar
+salary. We could do nothing but advise her
+to make the effort, you see.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Did she seem determined to go?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No; she appeared a little undecided and
+timid. However, she said frankly that,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_75' name='page_75'></a>75</span>
+though she had earned enough in England
+to pay her steamer passage to America, and
+a month&#8217;s expenses afterward, she could
+not be certain of continuing to do so much
+through a London winter. &#8216;If I only had a
+little more time to think it out,&#8217; she kept
+saying, &#8216;but I haven&#8217;t, so I must go!&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Where is she now?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;At her lodgings. The bishop is detained
+in Bath and I am dining with friends
+in his stead. I thought you might go and
+take her to dinner at the Swan, so that she
+shouldn&#8217;t be alone, and then bring her to
+the palace afterward&mdash;if&mdash;if all is well.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;If I have any luck two churches will be
+lamenting her loss to-morrow morning,&#8221;
+said Fergus gloomily; &#8220;but she wouldn&#8217;t
+have consented to go if she cared anything
+about me!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Nonsense, my dear boy! You were
+away. No self-respecting girl would wire
+you to come back. She was helpless even
+if she did care. Here we are! Shall I send
+a hansom back in half an hour?&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_76' name='page_76'></a>76</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Twenty-five minutes will do it,&#8221; Appleton
+answered briskly. &#8220;You are an
+angel, dear lady!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Keep your blarney! I hope you&#8217;ll need
+it all for somebody else to-night! Good
+fortune, dear boy!&#8221;</p>
+<div class='ce'>
+<p style=' font-size:1.4em;'>VIII</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>Appleton flung the contents of his portmanteau
+into his closet, rid himself of the
+dust of travel, made a quick change, and in
+less than forty minutes was at the door of
+Miss Tucker&#8217;s lodgings.</p>
+<p>She had a little sitting-room on the first
+floor, and his loud rat-a-tat brought her to
+the door instead of the parlor-maid.</p>
+<p>At the unexpected sight of him she turned
+pale.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why&mdash;why, I thought it was the luggage-man.
+Where did you come from?&#8221;
+she stammered.</p>
+<p>&#8220;From London, an hour ago. I met Mrs.
+Kennion on my way from the station.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh! Then she told you I am going home?&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_77' name='page_77'></a>77</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, she told me. How could you go
+to America without saying good-bye, Miss
+Tommy?&#8221;</p>
+<p>She flushed and looked perilously near
+tears.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I wrote to you this morning as soon as
+I had decided,&#8221; she said. &#8220;I don&#8217;t like to
+dart off in this way, you can imagine, but
+it&#8217;s a question of must.&#8221;</p>
+<p>He did not argue this with her; that was
+a bridge to be crossed when a better understanding
+had been reached; so, as if taking
+the journey as an inexorable fact, he said:
+&#8220;Come out and dine with me somewhere,
+and let us have a good talk.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m afraid I can&#8217;t. I&#8217;m eating now on a
+tray in my sitting-room,&#8221;&mdash;and she waved
+a table napkin she was holding in her hand.
+&#8220;I am rather tired, and Miss Scattergood
+gave me some bacon and an egg from the
+nest.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Give the bacon to the cat and put back
+the egg in the nest,&#8221; he said coaxingly.
+&#8220;Mrs. Kennion said: &#8216;Don&#8217;t let her eat
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_78' name='page_78'></a>78</span>
+her last dinner alone. Take her to the
+Swan.&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, I am only in my traveling-clothes
+and the Swan is full of strangers to-night.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;The Green Dragon, then, near the cathedral.
+You look dressed for Buckingham
+Palace.&#8221;</p>
+<p>She hesitated a moment, and then melted
+at the eagerness of his wish. &#8220;Well, then,
+if you&#8217;ll wait five minutes.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Of course; I&#8217;ll go along to the corner
+and whistle a hansom from the stand.
+Don&#8217;t hurry!&#8221;</p>
+<p>The mental processes of Miss Thomasina
+Tucker had been very confused during
+the excitement of the last twenty-four hours.</p>
+<p>That she loved Fergus Appleton she was
+well aware since the arrival of the cablegram
+calling her back to America. Up to
+that time she had fenced with her love&mdash;parried
+it, pricked it, thrust it off, drawn
+it back, telling herself that she had plenty
+of time to meet the issue if it came. That
+Fergus Appleton loved her she was also
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_79' name='page_79'></a>79</span>
+fairly well convinced, but that fact did not
+always mean&mdash;everything&mdash;she told herself,
+with a pitiful little attempt at worldly
+wisdom. Perhaps he preferred his liberty
+to any woman; perhaps he did not want to
+settle down; perhaps he was engaged to
+some one whom he didn&#8217;t care for now, but
+would have to marry; perhaps he hadn&#8217;t
+money enough to share with a wife; perhaps
+he was a flirt&mdash;no, she would not
+admit that for an instant. Anyway, she
+was alone in the world, and the guardian of
+her own dignity. If she could have allowed
+matters to drift along in the heavenly uncertainty
+of these last days, there would have
+been no problem; but when she was forced
+to wake from her delicious dream and fly
+from everything that held her close and
+warm, fly during Fergus Appleton&#8217;s absence,
+without his knowledge or consent&mdash;that
+indeed was heart-breaking. And still
+her pride showed her but the one course.
+She was alone in the world and without
+means save those earned by her own exertions.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_80' name='page_80'></a>80</span>
+A living income was offered her in
+America and she must take it or leave it on
+the instant. She could not telegraph Fergus
+Appleton in London and acquaint him with
+her plans, as if they depended on him for
+solution; she could only write him a warm
+and friendly good-bye. If he loved her as
+much as a man ought who loved at all, he
+had time to follow her to Southampton before
+her ship sailed. If business kept him
+from such a hurried journey, he could ask
+her to marry him in a sixpenny wire, reply
+paid. If he neither came nor wired, but sent
+a box of mignonette to the steamer with his
+card and &#8220;Bon voyage&#8221; written on it, she
+would bury something unspeakably dear and
+precious that had only just been born&mdash;bury
+it, and plant mignonette over it. And
+she could always sing! Thank Heaven for the
+gift of song!</p>
+<p>This was Tommy&#8217;s mood when she was
+packing her belongings, after hearing the
+bishop say that Appleton could not return
+till noon next day. It had changed a trifle by
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_81' name='page_81'></a>81</span>
+the time that Fergus had gone to the corner
+to whistle for a hansom. Her gray frieze
+jacket and skirt were right enough when she
+hastily slipped on a better blouse with a deep
+embroidered collar, pinned with Helena
+Markham&#8217;s parting gift of an emerald clover-leaf.
+Her gray straw hat had a becoming band
+of flat green leaves, and she had a tinge of
+color. (Nothing better for roses in the cheeks
+than hurrying to be ready for the right man.)
+Anyway, such beauty as Tommy had was
+always there, and when she came to the
+door she smote Appleton&#8217;s eyes as if she
+were &#8220;the first beam from the springing
+east.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Once in the hansom, they talked gayly.
+They dared not stop, indeed, for when they
+kept on whipping the stream they forgot the
+depth of the waters underneath.</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<p>Meantime the Green Dragon, competitor
+of the Swan, had great need of their lavish
+and interesting patronage.</p>
+<p>The Swiss head waiter, who was new to
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_82' name='page_82'></a>82</span>
+Wells, was a man of waxed mustaches and
+sleepless ambitions. The other hotels had
+most of the tourists, but he intended to
+retrieve the fortunes of his employer, and
+bring prosperity back to the side streets.
+He adored his vocation, and would have
+shed his heart&#8217;s blood on the altar of any
+dining-room of which he had charge.</p>
+<p>There were nine tables placed about the
+large room, though not more than three had
+been occupied in his tenure of office; but all
+were beautifully set with flowers and bright
+silver and napkins in complicated foldings.
+Pasteboard cards with large black numbers
+from one to eight stood erect on eight of the
+tables, and on the ninth an imposing placard
+bore the sign:</p>
+<div class='ce'>
+<p>ENGAGED</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>in letters two inches high, giving the idea
+that a hungry crowd was waiting to surge in
+and take the seats.</p>
+<p>The second man, trained within an inch
+of his life, had been already kindled by the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_83' name='page_83'></a>83</span>
+enthusiasm of his superior, and shared his
+vigils.</p>
+<p>This very evening there had been hopes
+deferred and sickened hearts over the indifference
+of the public to a menu fit for a
+king. Were there not consommé royale, filet
+of sole, maître d&#8217;hôtel, poulet en casserole,
+pommes de terres sautés, haricots verts, and
+a wonderful Camembert? A savory could be
+inserted in an instant, and a sweet arranged
+in the twinkling of an eye.</p>
+<p>&#8220;A carriage, Walter! Prepare!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Both flew silently to the window.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Two ladies; ah, they are not alighting!
+They wish to know if there is evening service
+in the cathedral.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;A gentleman, Walter! In a four-wheeler!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, he dines not. He has come to request
+his umbrella of the porter.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;A hansom, Walter!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ah, they alight. She is of an elegance
+unmistakable. They are young married ones,
+and will dine well. Hasten, Walter, and order
+both sweet and savory!&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_84' name='page_84'></a>84</span></p>
+<p>Fergus and Tommy looked about the cozy
+room with pleasure as they entered, receiving
+the salute of Gustave and the English
+bow of Walter as tributes to their deep, unspoken
+hopes.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Where will you sit, Miss Tucker?&#8221;
+asked Appleton, and as he spoke his quick
+eye observed the &#8220;Engaged&#8221; placard, and
+with lightning dexterity he steered his guest
+toward that table. (There <i>was</i> an opening,
+if you like!) Not quick enough for Tommy,
+though, for she had seen it and dropped into
+a seat several feet away, declaring its position
+was perfect. Gustave put menus before
+his distinguished clients with a flourish, and
+indicated the wine card as conspicuously as
+was consistent with good form. Then he
+paused and made mental notes of the situation.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ah, very good, very good,&#8221; murmured
+Appleton. &#8220;You might move the flowers,
+please; they rather hide&mdash;the view; and
+bring the soup, please.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Very young married ones!&#8221; thought Gustave,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_85' name='page_85'></a>85</span>
+summoning his slave and retiring to a
+point where he could watch the wine card.
+Walter brought the consommé, and then
+busied himself at the other tables. They
+would never be occupied, but it was just as
+well to pretend, so he set hideous colored
+wine-glasses, red, green, and amber, at the
+various places, and polished them ostentatiously
+with a clean napkin in the hope that
+the gentleman would experience a desire for
+liquid refreshment.</p>
+<p>&#8220;This is very jolly, and very unexpected,&#8221;
+said Appleton.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It is, indeed.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I hope you don&#8217;t miss the nest-egg.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You mustn&#8217;t call it a nest-egg! That&#8217;s
+a stale thing, or a china one that they leave
+in, I don&#8217;t know why&mdash;for an example, or a
+pattern, or a suggestion,&#8221; said Tommy, laughing.
+&#8220;An egg from the nest is Miss Scattergood&#8217;s
+phrase, and it means a new-laid one.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, I see!&mdash;well, do you regret it?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Certainly not, with this sumptuous repast
+just beginning!&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_86' name='page_86'></a>86</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;You always give me an appetite,&#8221; exclaimed
+Appleton.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s a humble function, but not one to
+be despised,&#8221; Tommy answered mischievously,
+fencing, fencing every minute, with
+her heart beating against her ribs like a
+sledge-hammer.</p>
+<p>Walter brought the fish and solicitously
+freed the wine card that had somehow crept
+under a cover of knives and forks.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I beg ten thousand pardons. What will
+you drink, Miss Tucker? We must have a
+drop of something to cheer us at a farewell
+dinner. Here is a vintage champagne, a good
+honest wine that will hearten us up and
+leave no headache in its train.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I couldn&#8217;t to-night, Mr. Appleton; I
+really couldn&#8217;t.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Then I refuse to be exhilarated alone,&#8221;
+said Fergus gallantly; &#8220;and you always have
+the effect of champagne on me anyway. I
+decline to say good-bye. I can&#8217;t even believe
+it is &#8216;au revoir&#8217; between us. We had such
+delightful days ahead, and so many plans.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_87' name='page_87'></a>87</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes; it isn&#8217;t nice to make up your mind
+so suddenly that it turns everything topsy-turvy,&#8221;
+sighed Tommy&mdash;&#8220;I won&#8217;t have
+any meat, thank you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Walter looked distinctly grieved. &#8220;I can
+recommend the pulley-ong-cazzerole, miss,
+and there&#8217;s potatoes sortey with it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Tommy&#8217;s appetite kindled at the sound
+of his accent, and she relented. &#8220;Yes, I&#8217;ll
+have a small portion, please, after all.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;When friends are together the world
+seems very small, and when they are separated
+it becomes a space too vast for human
+comprehension&mdash;I think I&#8217;ve heard that
+before, but it&#8217;s true,&#8221; said Appleton.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes,&#8221; Tommy answered, for lack of anything
+better to say.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It seems as if we had known each other
+for years.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;And it is less than three weeks,&#8221; was
+Tommy&#8217;s contribution to the lagging conversation.</p>
+<p>&#8220;The bishop offered me a letter of introduction
+to you when he wrote me at the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_88' name='page_88'></a>88</span>
+Bexley Sands Inn, you remember, but he
+added in a postscript that in case of accident
+he was not to be held responsible. Rather
+cryptic, I thought&mdash;at the time.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;A little Commonburg, sir?&#8221; asked Walter.
+&#8220;It is a very fine ripe one, and we have
+some fresh water-cress.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;&#8216;Commonburg,&#8217; Miss Tucker? No? Then
+bring the coffee, please.&#8221;</p>
+<p>A desperate silence fell between them,
+they who had talked unendingly for days
+and evenings!</p>
+<p>When Walter brought the tray with the
+coffee-pot and the two little cups, Appleton
+suddenly pushed his chair back, saying:
+&#8220;Let us take our coffee over by the
+window, shall we, and perhaps I may have
+a cigarette later? Don&#8217;t light the gas,
+waiter&mdash;we want to see the hills and the
+afterglow.&#8221;</p>
+<p>There was no avoiding it; Appleton and
+the waiter conveyed Tommy helplessly over
+to a table commanding the view and the
+sunset, and it was the one on which the huge
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_89' name='page_89'></a>89</span>
+&#8220;Engaged&#8221; placard reared itself persuasively
+and suggestively.</p>
+<p>&#8220;We shall need nothing more, waiter; you
+may go; I think this will cover the bill,&#8221;&mdash;and
+scorning the chair opposite Tommy,
+Appleton seated himself beside her.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You have turned your back to the afterglow,&#8221;
+she said, as she reached forward to
+move &#8220;Engaged&#8221; to a position a trifle less
+obvious.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t care tuppence about the afterglow,&#8221;
+and Appleton covered her hand with
+his own. &#8220;Make it come true, dear, dear
+Tommy! Make it come true!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;What?&#8221; she asked, between a smile and
+a tear.</p>
+<p>&#8220;The placard, dear, the placard! If you
+should travel the world over, you couldn&#8217;t
+find a man who loves you as I do.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;What would be the use in my traveling
+about to find another man when I am so
+satisfied with this one?&#8221; whispered Tommy.
+&#8220;Oh, remember! they may come back at
+any moment!&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_90' name='page_90'></a>90</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;I will, I will, if only I may have the comfort
+of holding your hand after all my miserable
+doubts! I never knew what companionship
+meant before I met you! I never really
+cared about life until now.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I have always cared about it, but never
+like this,&#8221; confessed Tommy. &#8220;You see, I
+have always been alone, ever since I grew up.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;And I! How wonderful of Fate to bring
+us together! And will you let me cable to the
+churches that you cannot come home just
+yet?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You think I&#8217;d better not go&mdash;so soon?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Without me? Never! You shall go anywhere
+you like, any time you like, so long as
+you take me with you. We&#8217;ll settle all those
+things to-morrow&mdash;the blessedest day that
+ever dawned, that&#8217;s what to-morrow will
+be! Couldn&#8217;t you marry me to-morrow,
+Tommy?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Certainly not! At any rate&mdash;not in the
+morning!&#8221; said Tommy mischievously, withdrawing
+her hand and moving out of the
+danger zone.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_91' name='page_91'></a>91</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;And you must remember that your
+talent is your own, to use as you like!&#8221; Appleton
+continued after a well-filled pause.
+&#8220;Your voice is a unique and precious gift.
+I&#8217;ll try not to be selfish with it, or jealous of
+it, though if it had half the effect on other
+men that it has upon me, the floor would be
+strewn with broken hearts every time you
+sing!&#8221;&mdash;and he hummed under his breath:</p>
+<table summary='poetry' style='margin:0 auto'><tr><td>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>&#8220;I hardly know, my darling,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>What mostly took my heart,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>Unless perhaps your singing</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>Has done the greater part.&#8221;</p>
+</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, you dear absurdity!&#8221; said Tommy,
+twinkling and sparkling enchantingly.&mdash;&#8220;I
+wish the waiter wouldn&#8217;t come in every
+time I want to say something especially
+private!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;&#8216;Confound his politics, frustrate his
+knavish tricks,&#8217; but we shall soon be out of
+his reach, spinning along to the palace.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Are we going there? Oh! I shall be afraid
+to tell the bishop and Mrs. Kennion!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You needn&#8217;t be. I told Mrs. Kennion
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_92' name='page_92'></a>92</span>
+this afternoon that I loved you to distraction.
+If the bishop is back from Bath, she&#8217;ll
+have passed on the information by now.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I was just going to say, when the waiter
+came so near, that it isn&#8217;t the public I love,
+it&#8217;s the singing! Just to sing and sing, that&#8217;s
+what I long to do!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;And what you shall do, so help me! You
+know you wanted me to find a new name for
+you? Wasn&#8217;t I clever to think of Appleton?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Very! And you&#8217;re kindly freeing me of
+half of my &#8216;bizarre Americanism,&#8217; as my
+Torquay correspondent called it. How shall
+we deal with Thomasina?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;We&#8217;ll call her Tommy. A darling, kissable
+little name, Tommy!&mdash;No, I&#8217;m not
+going to do anything!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You don&#8217;t think it&#8217;s cowardly of me to
+marry you?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Cowardly?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, when I haven&#8217;t actually proved
+that I can earn my living; at least, I haven&#8217;t
+done it long enough, or well enough, yet.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_93' name='page_93'></a>93</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;I think it&#8217;s brave of you to marry me.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Brave?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;To turn your back on a possible career.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s not the &#8216;careering&#8217; that I love;
+though it will seem very strange when
+Tommy Tucker doesn&#8217;t have to sing for
+her supper!&mdash;Shall we go? The waiter is
+coming in again. I believe he thinks we are
+going to run off with the spoons!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;So we are! At least, when we go, the
+spoons will go! I know it&#8217;s a poor joke, but
+I am too happy to be brilliant. Call the head
+waiter, please,&#8221;&mdash;this to Walter, who despaired
+of ever getting rid of his guests, and
+was agreeably disappointed that a gentleman
+who had not ordered wine should ask for
+Gustave.</p>
+<p>Appleton took the &#8220;Engaged&#8221; placard off
+the table and used it nonchalantly as a fan
+in crossing the room. Then as he drew near
+the men he slipped two gold pieces into
+Tommy&#8217;s hand.</p>
+<p>&#8220;May I carry away this placard, waiter?&#8221;
+he asked, as if it were quite a sane request.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_94' name='page_94'></a>94</span>
+&#8220;I&#8217;ve taken a fancy to it as a souvenir of a
+most delightful and memorable dinner.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Assuredly, assuredly!&#8221; murmured Gustave.
+He knew that there was romance in the
+air, although he did not perceive the exact
+point of Appleton&#8217;s request.</p>
+<p>&#8220;The young lady will reward you for
+your courtesy. No; I&#8217;ll help with her jacket,
+thank you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Tommy, overcome with laughter and confusion
+and blushes, pressed the gold pieces
+into the hands of the astonished waiters, who
+bowed almost to the floor.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You are always giving me sovereigns,
+dear Fergus,&#8221; she whispered with a laugh
+and something like a sob, as they drove
+along in the delicious nearness provided by
+the hansom.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Never mind,&#8221; said Fergus. &#8220;You will
+be giving me one when you marry me!&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='THE_TURNINGPOINT' id='THE_TURNINGPOINT'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_97' name='page_97'></a>97</span>
+<h2>THE TURNING-POINT</h2>
+</div>
+
+<p>Not far from the village of Bonny Eagle,
+on the west bank of the Saco, stood two
+little low-roofed farmhouses; the only two
+that had survived among others of the same
+kind that once dotted the green brink of the
+river.</p>
+<p>Long years before, in 1795 or thereabouts,
+there had been a cluster of log
+houses on this very spot, known then as the
+Dalton Right Settlement, and these in turn
+had been succeeded at a later date by the
+more comfortable frame-roof farmhouses of
+the period.</p>
+<p>In the old days, before the sound of the
+axe for the first time disturbed the stillness
+of the forest, the otter swam in the shadowy
+coves near the shore and the beaver built
+his huts near by. The red deer came down to
+dip his antlers and cool his flanks in the still
+shallows. The speckled grouse sat on her
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_98' name='page_98'></a>98</span>
+nest in the low pine boughs, while her mate
+perched on the mossy logs by the riverside
+unmolested.</p>
+<p>The Sokokis built their bark wigwams
+here and there on the bank, paddling their
+birch canoes over the river&#8217;s smooth surface,
+or threading the foamy torrents farther
+down its course.</p>
+<p>Here was the wonderful spring that fed,
+and still feeds, Aunt Judy&#8217;s Brook, the most
+turbulent little stream in the county. Many
+a moccasin track has been made in the
+soft earth around the never-failing fountain,
+and many the wooden bucket lowered into
+its crystal depths by the Dalton Righters
+when in their turn they possessed the land.</p>
+<p>The day of the Indian was over now, and
+the day of the farmer who succeeded him
+was over, too. The crash of the loom and
+the whir of the spinning-wheel were heard
+no longer, but Amanda Dalton, spinster,&mdash;descendant
+of the original Tristram Dalton,
+to whom the claim belonged,&mdash;sat on alone
+in her house, and not far away sat Caleb
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_99' name='page_99'></a>99</span>
+Kimball, sole living heir of the original Caleb,
+himself a Dalton Righter, and contemporary
+of Tristram Dalton.</p>
+<p>Neither of these personages took any interest
+in pedigree or genealogy. They knew
+that their ancestors had lived and died on the
+same acres now possessed by them, but the
+acres had dwindled sadly, and the ancestors
+had seemingly left little for which to be
+grateful. Indeed, in Caleb&#8217;s case they had
+been a distinct disadvantage, since the local
+sense of humor, proverbially strong in York
+County, had always preserved a set of Kimball
+stories among its most cherished possessions.
+Some of them might have been forgotten
+in the century and a half that had
+elapsed, if the Caleb of our story had not
+been the inheritor of certain family traits
+famous in their day and generation.</p>
+<p>Caleb the first had been the &#8220;cuss&#8221; of
+his fellow farmers, because in coming from
+Scarboro to join the Dalton Righters he had
+brought whiteweed with the bundle of hay
+for his cattle when he was clearing the land.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_100' name='page_100'></a>100</span>
+The soil of this particular region must have
+been especially greedy for, and adapted to,
+this obnoxious grass-killer, for it flourished as
+in no other part of the county; flourishes
+yet, indeed&mdash;though, if one can forget
+that its presence means poor feed for cattle
+where might be a crop of juicy hay, the
+blossoming fields of the old Dalton Settlement
+look, in early June, the loveliest, most
+ethereal, in New England. There, a million
+million feathery daisies sway and dance in
+the breeze, lifting their snowy wheels to the
+blue June sky. There they grow and thrive,
+the slender green stalks tossing their pearly
+disks among sister groves of buttercups till
+the eye is fairly dazzled with the symphony
+of white and gold. The back-aching farmers
+of the original Dalton Settlement had
+indeed tried to root out the lovely pests, but
+little did our Caleb care! If he had ever trod
+his ancestral acres either for pleasure or
+profit he might in time have &#8220;stomped out&#8221;
+the whiteweed, so the neighbors said, for he
+had the family foot, the size of an anvil; but
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_101' name='page_101'></a>101</span>
+he much preferred a sedentary life, and the
+whiteweed went on seeding itself from year
+to year.</p>
+<p>Caleb was tall, loose-jointed, and black
+as a thunder-cloud&mdash;the swarthy skin, like
+the big foot, having been bequeathed to him
+by the original Caleb, whose long-legged,
+shaggy-haired sons had been known as
+&#8220;Caleb&#8217;s colts.&#8221; Tall and black, all of them,
+the &#8220;colts,&#8221; so black that the village wits
+said the Kimball children must have eaten
+smut and soot and drunk cinder tea during
+the years their parents were clearing the
+land. Tall and black also were all the Kimball
+daughters, so tall it was their boast to
+be able to look out over the tops of the window
+curtains; and proud enough of their
+height to cry with rage when any rival Amazon
+came into the neighborhood.</p>
+<p>Whatever else they were or were not, however,
+the Kimballs had always been industrious
+and frugal. It had remained for the
+last scion of the old stock to furnish a byword
+for slackness. In a village where stories
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_102' name='page_102'></a>102</span>
+of outlandish, ungodly, or supernatural
+laziness were sacredly preserved from year
+to year, Caleb Kimball&#8217;s indolence easily
+took the palm. His hay commonly went to
+seed in the field. His cow yielded her morning&#8217;s
+milk about noon, and her evening
+&#8220;mess&#8221; was taken from her (when she was
+lucky) by the light of a lantern. He was a
+bachelor of forty-five, dwelt alone, had no
+visitors and made his living, such as it was,
+off the farm, with the help of a rack-o&#8217;-bones
+horse. He had fifty acres of timber-land, and
+when his easy-going methods of farming
+found him without money he simply sold a
+few trees.</p>
+<p>The house and barn were gradually falling
+into ruins; the farm implements stood in the
+yard all winter, and the sleigh all summer.
+The gate flapped on its hinges, the fences
+were broken down, and the stone walls were
+full of gaps. His pipe, and a snarling rough-haired
+dog, were his only companions. Hour
+after hour he sat on the side steps looking
+across the sloping meadows that separated
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_103' name='page_103'></a>103</span>
+his place from Amanda Dalton&#8217;s; hour after
+hour he puffed his pipe and gazed on the
+distant hills and the sparkling river; gazed
+and gazed&mdash;whether he saw anything or
+thought anything, remembered anything, or
+even dreamed anything, nobody could guess,
+not even Amanda Dalton, who was good
+at guessing, having very few other mental
+recreations to keep her mother-wit alive.</p>
+<p>Caleb Kimball, as seen on his doorstep
+from Amanda Dalton&#8217;s sink window, was
+but a speck, to be sure, but he was her nearest
+neighbor; if a person whose threshold
+you never cross, and who never crosses
+yours, can be called a neighbor. There were
+seldom or never meetings or greetings between
+the two, yet each unconsciously was
+very much alive to the existence of the other.
+In days or evenings of solitude one can make
+neighbors of very curious things.</p>
+<p>The smoke of Amanda&#8217;s morning fire
+cried &#8220;Shame&#8221; to Caleb&#8217;s when it issued
+languidly from his kitchen chimney an hour
+later. Amanda&#8217;s smoke was like herself,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_104' name='page_104'></a>104</span>
+and betokened the brisk fire she would be
+likely to build; Caleb&#8217;s showed wet wood,
+poor draught, a fallen brick in the chimney.</p>
+<p>Later on in the morning Caleb&#8217;s dog would
+sometimes saunter down the road and have a
+brief conversation with Amanda&#8217;s cat. They
+were neither friends nor enemies, but merely
+enlivened a deadly, dull existence with a few
+casual remarks on current topics.</p>
+<p>Once Caleb had possessed a flock of hens,
+but in the course of a few years they had
+dwindled to one lonely rooster, who stalked
+gloomily through the wilderness of misplaced
+objects in the Kimball yard, and
+wondered why he had been born.</p>
+<p>Amanda pitied him, and flung him a
+surreptitious handful of corn from her apron
+pocket when she met him walking dejectedly
+in the road halfway between the two houses.
+So encouraged he extended his rambles, and
+one afternoon Amanda, looking out of her
+window, saw him stop at her gate and hold
+a tête-à-tête with one of her Plymouth Rock
+hens. The interview was brief but effective.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_105' name='page_105'></a>105</span>
+In a twinkling he had told her of his miserable
+life and his abject need of sympathy.</p>
+<p>&#8220;There are times,&#8221; he said, &#8220;when, I give
+you my word, I would rather be stewed for
+dinner than lead my present existence! It
+is weak for me to trouble you with my difficulties,
+but you have always understood me
+from the first.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Say no more,&#8221; she replied. &#8220;I am a
+woman and pity is akin to love. The fowls
+of Amanda Dalton&#8217;s flock do not need me
+as you do. Eleven eggs a day are laid here
+regularly, and I will go where my egg will be
+a daily source of pleasure and profit.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;The coop is draughty and the corn
+scarce,&#8221; confessed the rooster, doing his best
+to be noble.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am of the sex created especially to
+supply companionship,&#8221; returned the hen,
+&#8220;therefore I will accompany you, regardless
+of personal inconvenience.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Amanda saw the departure of the eloping
+couple and pursued them not.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Land sakes!&#8221; she exclaimed, &#8220;if any
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_106' name='page_106'></a>106</span>
+male thing hereabouts has sprawl enough
+to go courtin&#8217; I&#8217;m willin&#8217; to encourage &#8217;em.
+She&#8217;ll miss her clean house and good food, I
+guess, but I ain&#8217;t sure. She&#8217;s &#8216;women-folks&#8217;
+after all, and I shouldn&#8217;t wonder a mite but
+she&#8217;d take real comfort in makin&#8217; things
+pleasanter up there for that pindlin&#8217;, God-forsaken
+old rooster! She&#8217;ll have her hands
+full, but there, I know what &#8217;tis to get
+along with empty ones!&#8221;</p>
+<p>There were not many such romances or
+comedies as these to enliven Amanda&#8217;s
+mornings. Then afternoon would slip into
+twilight, darkness would creep over the
+landscape, and Amanda&#8217;s light&mdash;clear,
+steady, bright, serene&mdash;would gleam from
+its place on the sink shelf through the kitchen
+window, over the meadow, &#8220;up to Kimball&#8217;s.&#8221;
+It was such a light as would stream
+from a well-trimmed lamp with a crystal
+clean chimney, but it met with small response
+from its neighbor&#8217;s light during many
+months of the year. In late autumn and winter
+there would be a fugitive candle gleam upstairs
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_107' name='page_107'></a>107</span>
+in the Kimball house, and on stormy
+evenings a dull, smoky light in the living-room.</p>
+<p>From the illumination in the Dalton sink
+window, Caleb thought Amanda sat in the
+kitchen evenings, but she didn&#8217;t. She said
+she kept the second light there because she
+could afford it, and because the cat liked it.
+The cat enjoyed the black haircloth sofa in
+the sitting-room, afternoons, but she greatly
+preferred the kitchen for evening use; it
+made a change, and the high-backed cushioned
+rocker was then vacant. Amanda had
+nobody to consider but the cat, so she naturally
+deferred to her in every possible
+way. It was bad for the cat&#8217;s character, but
+at least it kept Amanda from committing
+suicide, so what would you? Here was a
+woman of insistent, unflagging, unending
+activity. Amanda Dalton had energy enough
+to attend to a husband and six children&mdash;cook,
+wash, iron, churn, sew, nurse&mdash;and
+she lived alone with a cat. The village was
+a mile, and her nearest female neighbor, the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_108' name='page_108'></a>108</span>
+Widow Thatcher, a half-mile away. She had
+buried her only sister in Lewiston years before,
+and she had not a relation in the world.
+All her irrepressible zeal went into the conduct
+of her house and plot of ground. Day
+after day, week after week, year after year,
+the established routine was carried through.
+First the washing of the breakfast dishes
+and the putting to rights of the kitchen,
+which was radiantly clean before she began
+upon it. Next her bedroom; the stirring-up
+of the cornhusk mattress, the shaking of
+the bed of live geese feathers, the replacing
+of cotton sheets, homespun blankets, and
+blue-and-white counterpane. Next came the
+sitting-room with its tall, red, flag-bottomed
+chairs, its two-leaved table, its light stand
+that held the Bible and work-basket and
+lamp. The chest of drawers and tall clock
+were piously dusted, and the frames of the
+Family Register, &#8220;Napoleon Crossing the
+Alps,&#8221; and &#8220;Maidens Welcoming Washington
+in the Streets of Alexandria,&#8221; were
+carefully wiped off. Once a week the parlor
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_109' name='page_109'></a>109</span>
+was cleaned, the tarlatan was lifted from the
+two plaster Samuels on the mantelpiece,
+their kneeling forms were cleaned with a
+damp cloth, the tarlatan replaced, and the
+parlor closed again reverently. There was
+kindling to chop, wood to bring in, the
+modest cooking, washing, ironing, and sewing
+to do, the flower-beds to weed, and the
+little vegetable garden to keep in order.</p>
+<p>But Amanda had a quick foot, a neat
+hand, a light touch, and a peculiar faculty
+of &#8220;turning off&#8221; work so that it simply would
+not last through the day. Why did she
+never think of going to the nearest city and
+linking her powers with those of some one
+who would put them to larger uses? Simply
+because no one ever did that sort of thing
+in Bonny Eagle in those days. Girls crowded
+out of home by poverty sought employment
+here and there, but that a woman of forty,
+with a good home and ten acres of land&mdash;to
+say nothing of coupon bonds that yielded
+a hundred dollars a year in cash&mdash;that such
+a one should seek a larger field in a strange
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_110' name='page_110'></a>110</span>
+place, would have been thought flying in the
+face of Providence, as well as custom.</p>
+<p>Outside Bonny Eagle, in the roar and din
+and clamor of cities, were all sorts of wrongs
+that needed righting, wounds that cried out
+to be healed. There were motherless children,
+there were helpless sufferers moaning
+for the sight of a green field, but the superfluous
+females of Amanda Dalton&#8217;s day had
+not awakened to any sense of responsibility
+with regard to their unknown brothers and
+sisters.</p>
+<p>Amanda was a large-hearted woman. She
+would have shared her soda biscuit, her bean
+soup, her dandelion greens, her hogshead
+cheese, her boiled dinner, her custard pie,
+with any hungry mortal, but no one in
+Bonny Eagle needed bite nor sup. Therefore
+she feather-stitched her dish-towels, piled
+her kindling in a &#8220;wheel pattern&#8221; in the
+shed, named her hens and made friends of
+them, put fourteen tucks in her unbleached
+cotton petticoats, and fried a pancake every
+Saturday for her cat.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_111' name='page_111'></a>111</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s either that or blow your brains out,
+if you&#8217;ve got a busy mind!&#8221; she said grimly
+to Susan Benson, her best friend, who was
+passing a Saturday afternoon with her. It
+was chilly and they liked the cheerful
+warmth of the Saturday fire that was baking
+the beans and steaming the brown bread.</p>
+<p>Susan unrolled her patchwork and, giving
+a flip to the cat with her thimble finger,
+settled herself comfortably in the kitchen
+rocker.</p>
+<p>The cat leaped down and stalked into the
+next room with an air of offended majesty,
+as much as to say: &#8220;Of all the manners I
+ever saw, that woman has the worst! She
+contrives to pass by three empty chairs and
+choose the one I chance to be occupying!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You wouldn&#8217;t be so lonesome if you
+could see a bit of life from your house,
+Mandy,&#8221; said Mrs. Benson. &#8220;William an&#8217;
+I were sayin&#8217; last night you&#8217;d ought to
+move into the village winters, though nothin&#8217;
+could be handsomer than the view from
+your sink window this minute. Daisies,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_112' name='page_112'></a>112</span>
+daisies everywhere! How do you manage
+to keep &#8217;em out o&#8217; your place, Mandy, when
+they&#8217;re so thick on Caleb Kimball&#8217;s?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I just root an&#8217; root, an&#8217; keep on rootin&#8217;,&#8221;
+Amanda responded cheerfully, &#8220;though I
+don&#8217;t take a mite o&#8217; pride out of it, for the
+better my place looks the worse his does, by
+comparison.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It is a sight!&#8221; said Mrs. Benson, standing
+for a moment by the sink and looking up
+to Kimball&#8217;s.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I went up there one night after dark,
+when I knew Caleb &#8217;d gone to Hixam, an&#8217; I
+patched up some o&#8217; the holes in his stone
+wall, thinkin&#8217; his whiteweed seeds wouldn&#8217;t
+blow through quite so thick!&#8221;&mdash;and
+Amanda joined Mrs. Benson at the window.
+&#8220;I&#8217;d &#8217;a&#8217; done a day&#8217;s work on his side o&#8217; the
+wall as lief as not, only I knew folks would
+talk if they saw me.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Land, no, they wouldn&#8217;t, Mandy. Everybody
+knows you wouldn&#8217;t take him if
+he was the last man on earth; an&#8217; as for
+Caleb, I guess he wouldn&#8217;t marry any
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_113' name='page_113'></a>113</span>
+woman above ground, not if she was a
+seraphim. I used to think he&#8217;d spunk up
+some time or other, when he got over his
+mother&#8217;s death; but it&#8217;s too late now, I&#8217;m
+afraid.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Caleb set great store by his mother;
+that&#8217;s one good thing about him,&#8221; said
+Amanda.</p>
+<p>&#8220;He did for certain,&#8221; agreed Mrs. Benson.
+&#8220;If that girl he was engaged to hadn&#8217;t
+&#8217;a&#8217; spoken disrespectful to her in his hearin&#8217;
+there&#8217;d &#8217;a&#8217; been a wife an&#8217; children up there
+now an&#8217; the place would &#8217;a&#8217; looked diff&#8217;rent.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Not so very diff&#8217;rent! He didn&#8217;t lose
+much in Eliza Johnson. I guess he knows
+that by now!&#8221; remarked Amanda serenely;
+&#8220;though I s&#8217;pose &#8217;t was quarrelin&#8217; with her
+that set him runnin&#8217; down hill, all the
+same.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I never thought he cared anything about
+Eliza. She was determined to have him, an&#8217;
+he was too lazy to say no, but you see in the
+end she only got her labor for her pains.
+The Kimball boys never had any luck with
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_114' name='page_114'></a>114</span>
+their love affairs. When Caleb an&#8217; his mother
+was left alone, she was terrible anxious for
+him to marry. She was allers findin&#8217; girls for
+him, but part of &#8217;em wouldn&#8217;t look at him,
+and he wouldn&#8217;t make up to any of &#8217;em.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I was livin&#8217; in Lewiston those years,&#8221;
+said Amanda.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I remember you was. Well, when old
+Mrs. Kimball broke her arm, Charles, the
+youngest son, that was a stage-driver, determined
+he&#8217;d get somebody for Caleb, for
+his own wife wouldn&#8217;t lift her finger to help
+&#8217;bout the house. He saw a girl up to Steep
+Falls that he kind o&#8217; liked the looks of, an&#8217;
+he offered her a ride down to his mother&#8217;s
+to spend the day, thinkin&#8217; if the family liked
+her she might do for Caleb. However, her
+eyes was weak an&#8217; she didn&#8217;t know how to
+milk, so they thought she&#8217;d better go home
+by train. That would &#8217;a&#8217; been fair enough
+for both parties, but when Charles drove her
+to the station he charged her fifteen cents an&#8217;
+it made an awful sight o&#8217; talk. She had a hot
+temper, an&#8217; she kind o&#8217; resented it!&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_115' name='page_115'></a>115</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;I dare say &#8217;t wa&#8217;n&#8217;t so,&#8221; commented
+Amanda; &#8220;but everybody&#8217;s dead that could
+deny it, except Caleb, and he wouldn&#8217;t
+take the trouble.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s one of the days when he&#8217;s real drove,
+ain&#8217;t it?&#8221; asked Susan sarcastically, as she
+looked across the field to the wood-pile
+where a gray-shirted figure sat motionless.
+&#8220;If ever a man needed a wife to patch the
+seat of his pants, it&#8217;s Caleb Kimball! I guess
+it&#8217;s the only part of his clothes he ever
+wears out. He wa&#8217;n&#8217;t like that before his
+mother died; the wheels seemed to stop in
+him then an&#8217; there. He was queer an&#8217; strange
+an&#8217; shy, but I never used to think he&#8217;d
+develop into a reg&#8217;lar hermit. She&#8217;d turn in
+her grave, Mis&#8217; Kimball would, to see him
+look as he does. I don&#8217;t s&#8217;pose he gets any
+proper nourishment. The smartest man in
+the world won&#8217;t take the trouble to make
+pie for himself, yet he&#8217;ll eat it &#8217;s long &#8217;s he
+can stan&#8217; up! Caleb&#8217;s mother was a great
+pie-baker. I can see her now, shovelin&#8217; &#8217;em
+in an&#8217; out o&#8217; the oven Saturdays, with
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_116' name='page_116'></a>116</span>
+her three great black lanky boys standin&#8217;
+roun&#8217; waitin&#8217; for &#8217;em to cool off.&mdash;&#8216;Only
+<i>one</i>, mother?&#8217; Caleb used to say, kind o&#8217;
+wheedlin&#8217;ly, while she laughed up at him
+leanin&#8217; against the door-frame.&mdash;&#8216;What&#8217;s
+one blueb&#8217;ry pie amongst me?&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;He must &#8217;a&#8217; had some fun in him once,&#8221;
+smiled Amanda.</p>
+<p>&#8220;They say women-folks ain&#8217;t got no sense
+o&#8217; humor,&#8221; remarked Mrs. Benson, with a
+twitch of her thread. &#8220;I notice the men that
+live <i>without</i> &#8217;em don&#8217;t seem to have any! We
+may not amount to much, but we&#8217;re somethin&#8217;
+to laugh <i>at</i>.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why don&#8217;t you bake him a pie now
+an&#8217; then, an&#8217; send it up, Susan?&#8221; asked
+Amanda.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, there, I don&#8217;t feel I hardly know
+him well enough, though William does. I
+dare say he wouldn&#8217;t like it, an&#8217; he&#8217;d never
+think to return the plate, so far away.&mdash;Besides,
+there never <i>is</i> an extry pie in a
+house where there&#8217;s a man an&#8217; three boys;
+which reminds me I&#8217;ve got to go home an&#8217;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_117' name='page_117'></a>117</span>
+make one for breakfast, with nothin&#8217; to
+make it out of.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I could lend you a handful o&#8217; dried
+plums.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Thank you; I&#8217;ll take &#8217;em an&#8217; much
+obliged. I declare it seems to me, now the
+rhubarb&#8217;s &#8217;bout gone, as if the apples on the
+trees never would fill out enough to drop
+off. There does come a time in the early
+summer, after you&#8217;re sick of mince, &#8217;n&#8217;
+squash, &#8217;n&#8217; punkin, &#8217;n&#8217; cranberry, &#8217;n&#8217; rhubarb,
+&#8217;n&#8217; custard, &#8217;n&#8217; &#8217;t ain&#8217;t time for currant,
+or green apple, or strawb&#8217;ry, or
+raspb&#8217;ry, or blackb&#8217;ry&mdash;there does come a
+time when it seems as if Providence might
+&#8217;a&#8217; had a little more ingenuity in plannin&#8217;
+pie-fillin&#8217;!&mdash;You might bake a pie for
+Caleb now an&#8217; then yourself, Mandy; you&#8217;re
+so near.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mrs. Thatcher lives half a mile away,&#8221;
+replied Amanda; &#8220;but I couldn&#8217;t carry
+Caleb Kimball a pie without her knowin&#8217; it
+an&#8217; makin&#8217; remarks. I&#8217;d bake one an&#8217; willin&#8217;
+if William &#8217;d take it to him; but there,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_118' name='page_118'></a>118</span>
+&#8217;t would only make him want another. He&#8217;s
+made his bed an&#8217; he&#8217;s got to lie on it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;He <i>lays</i> on his bed sure enough, an&#8217; most
+o&#8217; the time probably&mdash;but do you believe
+he ever makes it?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Amanda shuddered. &#8220;I don&#8217;t know, Susan;
+it&#8217;s one o&#8217; the things that haunts me;
+whether he makes it or whether he don&#8217;t.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Do you ever see any wash hung out?&#8221;
+Mrs. Benson&#8217;s needle stopped in midair
+while she waited for Amanda&#8217;s answer.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ye-es; now an&#8217; then.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;What kind?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Sheets; once a gray blanket; underclothes;
+but naturally I don&#8217;t look when
+they&#8217;re hung out. He generally puts &#8217;em
+on the grass, anyway.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, it&#8217;s a sin for a man to live so in a
+Christian country, an&#8217; the kindest thing to
+say about him is that he&#8217;s crazy. Some o&#8217;
+the men folks over to the store declare he is
+crazy; but William declares he ain&#8217;t. He
+says he&#8217;s asleep. William kind o&#8217; likes him.
+Does he ever pass the time o&#8217; day with you?&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_119' name='page_119'></a>119</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Hardly ever. I meet him once or twice
+a year, maybe, in the road. He bows when
+I go past on an errand an&#8217; holds on to his
+dog when he tries to run out an&#8217; bite me.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;That&#8217;s real kind o&#8217; gentlemanly,&#8221; observed
+Susan.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I never thought of it that way,&#8221; said
+Amanda absently; &#8220;but perhaps it is. All I
+can say is, Caleb Kimball&#8217;s a regular thorn
+in my flesh. I can&#8217;t do anything for him, an&#8217;
+I can&#8217;t forget him, right under foot as he
+is&mdash;his land joinin&#8217; mine. Mornin&#8217;, noon,
+an&#8217; night for years I&#8217;ve wanted to get into
+that man&#8217;s house an&#8217; make it decent for him;
+wanted to milk the cow the right time o&#8217; day;
+feed the horse; weed the garden; scrub the
+floor; wash the windows; black the stove.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;How you do go on, Mandy!&#8221; exclaimed
+Mrs. Benson. &#8220;What diff&#8217;rence does it make
+to you how dirty he is, so long&#8217;s you&#8217;re
+clean?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It does make a diff&#8217;rence, an&#8217; it always
+will. I hate to see the daisies growin&#8217; so
+thick, knowin&#8217; how he needs hay. I want to
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_120' name='page_120'></a>120</span>
+root &#8217;em out same&#8217;s I did mine, after I&#8217;d
+been away three years in Lewiston. I hate
+to take my pot o&#8217; beans out o&#8217; the oven
+Saturday nights an&#8217; know he ain&#8217;t had
+gumption enough to get himself a Christian
+meal. Livin&#8217; alone &#8217;s I do, Susan, things
+&#8216;bulk up&#8217; in my mind bigger&#8217;n they&#8217;d
+ought to.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;They do so,&#8221; agreed Susan; &#8220;an&#8217; you
+mustn&#8217;t let &#8217;em. You must come over to
+our house oftener. You know William loves
+to have you, an&#8217; so do the boys. The Bible
+may insinuate we are our brother&#8217;s keeper,
+but we can&#8217;t none of us help it if he won&#8217;t
+<i>be</i> kept!&mdash;There, I must be gettin&#8217; home.
+I&#8217;ve had considerable many reminders the
+last half-hour that it&#8217;s about time! It&#8217;s none
+o&#8217; my business, Mandy, but you do spoil that
+cat, an&#8217; the time&#8217;s not far off when he won&#8217;t
+be a mite o&#8217; comfort to you. Of course, I&#8217;m
+too intimate here to take offense, but if the
+minister should happen to set in this chair
+when he calls, an&#8217; see that cat promenade
+round an&#8217; round the rockers an&#8217; then rustle
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_121' name='page_121'></a>121</span>
+off into the settin&#8217;-room as mad as Cuffy,
+he&#8217;d certainly take notice an&#8217; think he
+wa&#8217;n&#8217;t a welcome visitor.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Like mistress, like cat!&#8221; sighed Amanda.
+&#8220;Tristram an&#8217; I get awful set in our ways.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Kind o&#8217; queer, Mandy, namin&#8217; a cat for
+your grandfather,&#8221; Mrs. Benson observed
+anxiously as she opened the door. &#8220;William
+an&#8217; me don&#8217;t want you to get queer.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I ain&#8217;t got anything better &#8217;n a cat to
+name for grandfather,&#8221; said poor Amanda,
+in a tone that set her friend Susan thinking
+as she walked homeward.</p>
+<p>The summer wore along and there came
+a certain Tuesday different from all the
+other Tuesdays in that year, or in all the
+forty years that had gone before&mdash;a Tuesday
+when the Kimball side door was not
+opened in the morning. No smoke issued
+from the chimney all day. The rooster and
+his kidnapped hen flew up from the steps
+and pecked at the door panels vigorously.
+Seven o&#8217;clock in the evening came, then eight,
+and no light to be seen anywhere. The dog
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_122' name='page_122'></a>122</span>
+howled; the horse neighed; the cow lowed
+ominously in the closed barn. At nine o&#8217;clock
+Amanda took a lantern and sped across the
+field, found a pail in the shed, slipped into the
+barn, milked the cow, gave the beasts hay
+and water, and leaving the pail of milk on the
+steps, went quietly home again, anxious
+lest she had done too much, anxious also
+lest she had not done enough.</p>
+<p>Next morning she stationed herself at her
+kitchen window and took account of her
+signs. The milk-pail was overturned on the
+steps, the rooster and hen perching on the
+rim, but there was no smoke coming from
+the chimney. She thought quickly as she
+did everything else. She waited long enough
+to make a cup of coffee, then she slipped out
+of her door and up to Kimball&#8217;s. Her apron
+was full of kindling, and on her arm she
+carried a basket with a package of herbs, a
+tiny bottle of brandy, one of cologne, some
+arrowroot and matches, a cake of hard soap
+and a clean towel, bones for the dog and
+corn for the hen.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_123' name='page_123'></a>123</span></p>
+<p>Caleb&#8217;s door was unlocked. The dog
+came out of the shed evincing no desire to
+bark or bite. The kitchen was empty, and&mdash;she
+thanked the Lord silently, as she
+gave a hasty glance about&mdash;not as dreadful
+as she had anticipated. Untidy beyond
+words, bare, dreary, cheerless, but not
+repulsively dirty. She stole softly through
+the lower part of the house, and then with
+a beating heart went up the uncarpeted
+stairs. At the head was an open door that
+showed her all she expected and feared to
+find. The sun streamed in at the dusty, uncurtained
+window over the motionless body
+of Caleb Kimball, who lay in a strange, deep
+sleep, unconscious, on the bed. His hair was
+raven black against the pillow and the lashes
+on his cheeks looked more &#8217;n a yard long,
+Amanda told Susan Benson. (She afterward
+confessed that this was a slight exaggeration
+due to extreme excitement.) She spoke
+his name three times, but he did not stir.
+She must get the doctor and send for William
+Benson, that was clear; but first she
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_124' name='page_124'></a>124</span>
+must try her hand at improving the immediate
+situation.</p>
+<p>Stealing downstairs she tied on her apron
+and lighted a fire in the kitchen stove, with
+the view of making things respectable before
+gossipy neighbors came in. Her sister
+used to say that the minute Amanda tied
+on her apron things began to move and take
+a turn for the better, and it was so now. She
+poured a few drops of cologne into a basin
+of water, and putting the towel over her arm
+went upstairs to Caleb&#8217;s bedside.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ve done him wrong,&#8221; she thought remorsefully
+as she noted his decent night-clothing
+and bedding. &#8220;He ain&#8217;t lost his
+self-respect in all these years, and every soul
+in Bonny Eagle thought he was living like
+an animal!&#8221;</p>
+<p>She bathed his face and throat and hands,
+then moistened and smoothed his hair without
+provoking a movement or a sound. He
+seemed in a profound stupor, but there was
+no stertorous breathing. Straightening the
+bedclothes and giving a hasty wipe to the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_125' name='page_125'></a>125</span>
+tops of the pine bureau and table, she opened
+the window and closed the blinds. At this
+moment she spied one of the Thatcher boys
+going along the road, and ran down to the
+gate to ask him to send William Benson and
+the doctor as soon as possible.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Tell them Miss Dalton says please to
+come quick; Caleb Kimball&#8217;s very sick,&#8221;
+she said.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t you need mother, too?&#8221; asked
+the boy. &#8220;She&#8217;s wanted to git into his house
+for years, and she&#8217;d do most anything for the
+chance.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, thank you,&#8221; said Amanda pitilessly.
+&#8220;I can do everything for the present, and
+Mr. Benson will probably want his wife, if
+anybody.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;All right,&#8221; said the boy as he started
+off on a dog-trot. News was rare in Bonny
+Eagle, and Caleb Kimball was a distinguished
+and interesting figure in village gossip.</p>
+<p>Amanda Dalton had never had to hurry
+in her life. That was one of her crosses, for
+there probably never was a woman who
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_126' name='page_126'></a>126</span>
+could do more in less time. It was an hour
+and a half before William Benson came,
+and in those ninety minutes she had swept
+the kitchen and poured a pail or two of hot
+soap-suds over the floor, that may have
+felt a mop, but certainly had not known a
+scrubbing-brush for years. She tore down the
+fly-specked, tattered, buff shades, and washed
+the three windows; blackened the stove;
+fed the dog and horse; milked the cow;
+strained the milk and carried it down cellar;
+making three trips upstairs in the meantime
+to find no change in the patient. His lids
+stayed down as though they were weighted
+with lead, his long arms lay motionless on
+the counterpane.</p>
+<p>Amanda&#8217;s blood coursed through her
+veins like lightning. Here was work to her
+hand; blessed, healing work for days, perhaps
+weeks to come. In these first moments
+of emotional excitement I fear she hoped it
+would be a long case of helpless invalidism,
+during which it would be her Christian
+duty to clean the lower part of the house
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_127' name='page_127'></a>127</span>
+and perhaps make some impression on the
+shed; but this tempting thought was quickly
+banished as she reflected that Caleb Kimball
+was a bachelor, and the Widow Thatcher
+the person marked out by a just but unsympathetic
+Providence for sick-nurse and housekeeper.</p>
+<p>&#8220;She shan&#8217;t come!&#8221; thought Amanda
+passionately. &#8220;I&#8217;ll make the doctor ask me
+to take charge. William Benson shall stay
+here nights an&#8217; Susan will run in now an&#8217;
+then daytimes, or I&#8217;ll get little Abby Thatcher
+to do the rough work an&#8217; keep me company;
+then her mother won&#8217;t make talk.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t know exactly what&#8217;s the matter
+with the man,&#8221; confessed the doctor, when
+he came. &#8220;There&#8217;s a mark and a swelling on
+the back of his head as if he might have
+fallen somewhere. He hasn&#8217;t got any pulse
+and he&#8217;s all skin and bone. He&#8217;s starved out,
+I guess, and his machinery has just stopped.
+He wants nursing and feeding and all the
+things a woman can do for him. The Lord
+never intended men-folks to live alone!&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_128' name='page_128'></a>128</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;If they ain&#8217;t got wit enough to find that
+out for themselves it ain&#8217;t likely any woman&#8217;ll
+take the trouble to tell &#8217;em!&#8221; exclaimed
+Amanda with some spirit.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t get stuffy, Amanda! Just be a
+good Christian and take hold here for a few
+days till we see whether we&#8217;ve got to have
+a nurse from Portland. Man&#8217;s extremity is
+God&#8217;s opportunity; maybe Caleb&#8217;ll come
+to his senses before he gets over this sickness.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I wonder if he ever had any senses?&#8221;
+said Amanda.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Plenty,&#8221; the doctor answered as he prepared
+the medicines; &#8220;but he hasn&#8217;t used
+them for twenty years.&mdash;I&#8217;ll come back in
+an hour and fetch Bill Benson with me. Then
+I&#8217;ll stay till I can bring Caleb back to consciousness.
+We shall have to get him downstairs
+as soon as he can be moved; it will be
+much easier to take care of him there.&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<p>The details of Caleb Kimball&#8217;s illness
+would be such as fill a nurse&#8217;s bedside record
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_129' name='page_129'></a>129</span>
+book. The mainspring of life had been
+snapped and the machinery refused to move
+for a long time. When he recovered consciousness
+his solemn black eyes followed
+Amanda Dalton&#8217;s movements as if fascinated,
+but he spoke no word save a faltering phrase
+or two at night to William Benson.</p>
+<p>Meantime much had been happening below-stairs,
+where Amanda Dalton reigned
+supreme, with Susan Benson and Abby
+Thatcher taking turns in housework or
+nursing. William Benson was a painter by
+trade, and Amanda&#8217;s ingenious idea was to
+persuade him to paint and paper the Kimball
+kitchen before Caleb was moved downstairs.</p>
+<p>This struck William as a most extraordinary
+and unnecessary performance.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Israel in Egypt!&#8221; he exclaimed. &#8220;What&#8217;s
+the matter with you women? I never heard
+o&#8217; such goin&#8217;s-on in my life! I might lay abed
+a thousand years an&#8217; nobody&#8217;d paint my
+premises. Let Caleb git his strength back
+an&#8217; then use a little elbow grease on his own
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_130' name='page_130'></a>130</span>
+house&mdash;you can&#8217;t teach an old dog new
+tricks, Susan!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;&#8217;Pends on how old the dog is, an&#8217; what
+kind o&#8217; tricks you want to teach him,&#8221; Susan
+replied. &#8220;It&#8217;d be a queer dog that wouldn&#8217;t
+take to a clean kennel, or three good
+meals a day &#8217;stead o&#8217; starvation vittles.
+Amanda says it may be a kind of a turnin&#8217;-point
+in Caleb&#8217;s life, an&#8217; she thinks we&#8217;d
+ought to encourage him a little.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ain&#8217;t I encouragin&#8217; him by sleepin&#8217; on
+his settin&#8217;-room lounge every night an&#8217; givin&#8217;
+him medicine every two hours by the alarm
+clock? I&#8217;ve got my own day&#8217;s work to do;
+when would I paint his kitchen, I&#8217;d like
+to know?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;We thought probably you&#8217;d like to do
+it nights,&#8221; suggested his wife timidly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Saul in Tarsus! Don&#8217;t that beat the
+devil?&#8221; ejaculated William. &#8220;Caleb Kimball
+ain&#8217;t done a good day&#8217;s work for years,
+an&#8217; I&#8217;m to set up nights paintin&#8217; his kitchen!&#8221;
+Nevertheless the magnificent impertinence
+of the idea so paralyzed his will that
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_131' name='page_131'></a>131</span>
+he ended by putting on twelve single rolls
+of fawn-colored paper and painting the woodwork
+yellow to harmonize, working from
+eight to twelve several nights and swearing
+freely at his own foolishness.</p>
+<p>By this time Amanda had made the
+downstairs chamber all tidy and comfortable
+for the patient. She had contributed a window
+shade and dimity curtains; Susan a
+braided rug and a chair cushion. The chamber
+(the one in which Caleb&#8217;s mother had
+died) opened from the kitchen and commanded
+an enticing view of the fresh yellow
+walls and shining cook-stove. On the day
+before Caleb&#8217;s removal Amanda sat on the
+foot of the bed and looked through the doorway
+with silent joy, going to and fro to
+move a bright tin dipper into plainer view
+or retire a drying dish-cloth to greater
+privacy.</p>
+<p>Even Abby Thatcher was by this time a
+trifle exhilarated. She did not understand
+the situation very well, being of a sternly
+practical nature herself, but she caught the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_132' name='page_132'></a>132</span>
+enthusiasm of the two women and scrubbed
+the kitchen floor faithfully every morning
+in order to remove the stains of years of
+neglect.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You wouldn&#8217;t think your old hen &#8217;d be
+such a fool, Miss Dalton,&#8221; she said; &#8220;but
+I kind o&#8217; surmised the reason she&#8217;s been
+missin&#8217;, an&#8217; I found her to-day in a corner
+o&#8217; the haymow sittin&#8217; on five eggs. Now,
+wouldn&#8217;t you s&#8217;pose at her age she&#8217;d know
+better than to try an&#8217; raise chickens in
+October?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m afraid they&#8217;ll die if it should be a
+cold fall, with nobody to look after &#8217;em; but
+maybe I can take &#8217;em home to my shed an&#8217;
+lend Mr. Kimball another hen.&#8221; (Amanda&#8217;s
+tone was motherly.) &#8220;I never like to break
+up a hen&#8217;s nest, somehow; it seems as if
+they must have feelin&#8217;s like other folks.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;d take her off quicker&#8217;n scat, an&#8217; keep
+takin&#8217; her off, till she got some sense,&#8221; said
+Abby, with the Chinese cruelty of sixteen.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, you let her be till Mr. Kimball gets
+well enough to ask; an&#8217; I think, Abby, you
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_133' name='page_133'></a>133</span>
+might clean up the dooryard just a little
+mite this mornin&#8217;,&#8221; suggested Amanda.
+&#8220;If you could straighten up the fence an&#8217;
+find a couple of old hinges to hang the gate
+with, it would kind o&#8217; put new heart into
+Mr. Kimball when he&#8217;s sittin&#8217; up an&#8217; lookin&#8217;
+out the window.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why didn&#8217;t he put heart into hisself by
+hangin&#8217; his <i>own</i> gate, before he took sick?&#8221;
+grumbled Abby, reducing Amanda to momentary
+silence by her pitiless logic.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why didn&#8217;t he, indeed?&#8221; echoed her
+heart gloomily, receiving nothing in the way
+of answer from her limited experience of men.</p>
+<p>Caleb had spoken more frequently the
+last few days. When by the combined exertions
+of the Bensons and the doctor he
+had been brought down into his mother&#8217;s
+old room, Amanda closed the kitchen door,
+thinking one experience at a time was
+enough for a man in his weak and exhausted
+condition. William Benson couldn&#8217;t
+see any sense in this precaution, but he never
+did see much sense in what women-folks
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_134' name='page_134'></a>134</span>
+did. He wanted to show Caleb the new paint
+and paper immediately, and remark casually
+that he had done all the work while he
+was &#8220;night-nursin&#8217;.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The next morning Amanda had seized a
+good opportunity to open the door between
+the two rooms, straightway retiring to the
+side entry to await developments. In a few
+moments she heard Caleb moving, and going
+in found him half sitting up in bed, leaning
+on his elbow.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What&#8217;s the matter with the kitchen?&#8221;
+he asked feebly, staring with wide-open eyes
+at the unaccustomed prospect.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Only fresh paint an&#8217; paper; that&#8217;s William&#8217;s
+work.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;O God, I ain&#8217;t worth it! I ain&#8217;t worth
+it!&#8221; he groaned as he hid his face in the
+pillow.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Have you been here all the time?&#8221; he
+asked Amanda when she brought him his
+gruel later in the day.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, off an&#8217; on, when I could get away
+from my own work.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_135' name='page_135'></a>135</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Who found me?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I did. I knew by the looks somethin&#8217; was
+wrong up here.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Somethin&#8217; wrong, sure enough, an&#8217; always
+was!&#8221; Amanda heard him mutter as
+he turned his face to the wall.</p>
+<p>The next day he opened his eyes suddenly
+as she was passing through the room.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Did you make that pie William Benson
+brought me last month?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;What made you think I did?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, I don&#8217;t know; it looked, an&#8217; it
+tasted like one o&#8217; yours,&#8221; he said, closing
+his eyes again. &#8220;If you know a woman, you
+can tell her pie, somehow!&#8221;</p>
+<p>When had Caleb Kimball ever tasted any
+of her cooking? A mysterious remark, but
+everything he said sounded a trifle lightheaded.</p>
+<p>His questions came back to her when she
+was waiting for William Benson at twilight
+that same day.</p>
+<p>Caleb had been sleeping quietly for an
+hour or more. Amanda was standing at the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_136' name='page_136'></a>136</span>
+stove stirring his arrowroot gruel. The
+kitchen was still.</p>
+<p>A smothered &#8220;<i>miaow</i>&#8221; and the scratching
+of claws on wood arrested her attention,
+and she went hurriedly to the door.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Tristram Dalton; what <i>are</i> you up here
+for, away from your own home?&#8221; she exclaimed.</p>
+<p>Tristram vouchsafed no explanation of
+his appearance, but his demeanor spoke
+louder than words to Amanda&#8217;s guilty conscience,
+as he walked in.</p>
+<p>&#8220;No shelter for me but the shed these
+days!&#8221; he seemed to say. &#8220;Instead of well-served
+meals, a cup of milk set here or there!&#8221;</p>
+<p>He made the circuit of the kitchen discontentedly
+and finding nothing to his taste
+went into the adjoining room, and after
+walking over the full length of Caleb&#8217;s
+prostrate form curled himself up in a hollow
+at the foot of the bed.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ve neglected him!&#8221; thought Amanda;
+&#8220;but his turn&#8217;ll come again soon enough,&#8221;
+and she bent her eyes on the gruel.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_137' name='page_137'></a>137</span></p>
+<p>The blue bowl sat in the pan of hot water
+on the stove, and she stirred and stirred,
+slowly, regularly, continuously, in order
+that the arrowroot should be of a velvety
+smoothness.</p>
+<p>The days were drawing in, and the October
+sun was setting very yellow, sending a
+flood of light over her head and shoulders.
+She wore her afternoon dress of alpaca, with
+a worked muslin collar and cuffs and a white
+apron tied round her trim waist. She was
+one of your wholesome shining women and
+her bright brown hair glistened like satin.</p>
+<p>Caleb&#8217;s black eyes looked yearningly at
+her as she stood there all unconscious, doing
+one of her innumerable neighborly kindnesses
+for him.</p>
+<p>She made a picture of sweet, strong,
+steady womanliness, although she did not
+know it. Caleb knew something extraordinary
+was going on inside of him, but under
+what impulse he was too puzzled and inexperienced
+to say.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Amanda.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_138' name='page_138'></a>138</span></p>
+<p>Amanda turned sharply at the sound of
+his voice as she was lifting the steaming
+arrowroot out of the water.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Whose cat is this?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mine.&mdash;Come off that bed, Tristram!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t disturb him; I like to have him
+there.&mdash;Where&#8217;s Abby Thatcher?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;She&#8217;s gone home on an errand; she&#8217;ll
+be back in fifteen minutes now.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Where&#8217;s William?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s only five o&#8217;clock. He don&#8217;t come till
+six. What can I get for you? Have you had
+a good sleep?&#8221;</p>
+<p>She set the gruel on the back of the stove
+and went in to his bedside.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t sleep much; I just lie an&#8217; think
+... Amanda, ... now, they&#8217;re all away,
+... if I get over this spell, ... an&#8217; take
+a year to straighten up an&#8217; get hold o&#8217; things
+like other folks, ... do you think ... you&#8217;d
+risk ... marryin&#8217; me?&#8221;</p>
+<p>There was a moment&#8217;s dead silence; then
+Amanda said, turning pale: &#8220;Are you in
+your right mind, Caleb Kimball?&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_139' name='page_139'></a>139</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;I am, but I don&#8217;t wonder at your askin&#8217;,&#8221;
+said the man humbly. &#8220;I&#8217;ve kind o&#8217;
+fancied you for years; but you&#8217;ve always
+been way down there across the fields, out
+o&#8217; reach!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m too amazed to think it out,&#8221; faltered
+Amanda.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t you think it out, for God&#8217;s sake,
+or you&#8217;ll never do it!&#8221; He caught at her
+hand as if it had been a life-line&mdash;her kind,
+smooth hand, the helpful hand with the
+bit of white cambric bound round a finger
+burned in his service.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It was the kitchen that put the courage
+into me,&#8221; he went on feverishly. &#8220;I laid
+here an&#8217; thought: &#8216;If she can make a house
+look so different in a week, what could she do
+with a man?&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I ain&#8217;t afraid but I could,&#8221; stammered
+Amanda; &#8220;if the man would help&mdash;not
+hinder.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Just try me, Amanda. I wouldn&#8217;t need
+a year&mdash;honest, I wouldn&#8217;t&mdash;I could show
+you in three months!&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_140' name='page_140'></a>140</span></p>
+<p>Caleb&#8217;s strength was waning now. His
+head dropped forward and Amanda caught
+it on her breast. She put one arm round
+his shoulders to keep him from falling back,
+while her other hand supported his head.
+His cheek was wet and as she felt the tears
+on her palm, mutely calling to her strength,
+all the woman in her gathered itself together
+and rushed to meet the man&#8217;s need.</p>
+<p>&#8220;If only ... you could take me ...
+now ... right off,&#8221; he faltered; &#8220;before
+anything happens ... to prevent? I&#8217;d be
+good to you ... till the day I die!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I ain&#8217;t afraid to risk it, Caleb,&#8221; said
+Amanda. &#8220;I&#8217;ll take you now when you need
+me the most. We&#8217;ll just put our two forlorn
+houses together an&#8217; see if we can make &#8217;em
+into a home!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Caleb gave one choking sob of content
+and gratitude. His hand relaxed its clasp of
+Amanda&#8217;s; his head dropped and he fainted.</p>
+<p>William Benson came in just then.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What&#8217;s the matter?&#8221; he cried, coming
+quickly toward the bed. &#8220;Has he had a
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_141' name='page_141'></a>141</span>
+spell? He was so much better last night I
+expected to see him settin&#8217; up!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;He&#8217;ll come to in a minute,&#8221; said Amanda.
+&#8220;Give me the palm-leaf fan. We&#8217;re goin&#8217; to
+be married in a day or so, an&#8217; he got kind of
+excited talkin&#8217; it over.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Moses in the bulrushes!&#8221; ejaculated
+William Benson, sitting down heavily in
+the nearest chair.</p>
+<p>William Benson was not a sentimental
+or imaginative person, and he confessed he
+couldn&#8217;t make head nor tail out o&#8217; the affair;
+said it was the queerest an&#8217; beatin&#8217;est weddin&#8217;
+that ever took place in Bonny Eagle;
+didn&#8217;t know when they fixed it up, nor how,
+nor why, if you come to that. Amanda Dalton
+had never had a beau, but she was the
+likeliest woman in the village, spite o&#8217; that,
+an&#8217; Caleb Kimball was the onlikeliest man.
+Amanda was the smartest woman, an&#8217;
+Caleb the laziest man. He kind o&#8217; thought
+Amanda &#8217;d married Caleb so &#8217;t she could
+clean house for him; but it seemed an awful
+high price to pay for a job. He guessed she
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_142' name='page_142'></a>142</span>
+couldn&#8217;t bear to have his everlastin&#8217; whiteweed
+seedin&#8217; itself into her hayfield, an&#8217; the
+only way she could stop it was to marry
+him an&#8217; weed it out. He thought, too, that
+Caleb had kind o&#8217; got int&#8217; the habit o&#8217;
+watchin&#8217; Mandy flyin&#8217; about down to her
+place. There&#8217;s nothin&#8217; so fascinatin&#8217; as to
+set still an&#8217; see other folks work. The critter
+was so busy, an&#8217; so diff&#8217;rent from him,
+mebbe it kind o&#8217; tantalized him.</p>
+<p>The Widow Thatcher was convinced
+that Mandy must have gone for Caleb
+hammer &#8217;n&#8217; tongs when he was too weak
+to hold out against her. No woman in her
+sober senses would paper a man&#8217;s kitchen
+for him unless she intended to get some use
+out of it herself. &#8220;We don&#8217;t know what the
+disciples would &#8217;a&#8217; done,&#8221; she said, &#8220;nor
+the apostles, nor the saints, nor the archangels;
+we only know what women-folks
+would &#8217;a&#8217; done, and there ain&#8217;t one above
+ground that would &#8217;a&#8217; cleaned Caleb Kimball&#8217;s
+house without she expected to live
+in it.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_143' name='page_143'></a>143</span></p>
+<p>Susan Benson had a vague instinct with
+regard to the real facts of the case, but even
+she mustered up courage to ask Amanda
+once how the wonderful matter came about.</p>
+<p>Amanda looked at Mrs. Benson with
+some embarrassment, for she was not good
+at confidences.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Susan, you an&#8217; I&#8217;ve been brought up
+together, gone to school together, experienced
+religion an&#8217; joined the church together,
+an&#8217; I stood up with you an&#8217; William
+when you was married, so &#8217;t I&#8217;d speak out
+freer to you than I would to most.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I hope so, I&#8217;m sure.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Though I wouldn&#8217;t want you to repeat
+anything, Susan.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;&#8217;Tain&#8217;t likely I would, Mandy.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, I&#8217;d no sooner got Caleb into a
+clean bed an&#8217; a clean room an&#8217; begun to feed
+him good food than I begun to like him.
+There&#8217;s things in human hearts that I ain&#8217;t
+wise enough to explain, Susan, an&#8217; I ain&#8217;t
+goin&#8217; to try. Caleb Kimball seemed to me
+like a man that was drownin&#8217;, all because
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_144' name='page_144'></a>144</span>
+there wa&#8217;n&#8217;t anybody near to put a hand
+under his chin an&#8217; keep his head out o&#8217; water.
+I didn&#8217;t suspicion he&#8217;d let me do it! I thought
+he&#8217;d just lie there an&#8217; drown, but it didn&#8217;t
+turn out that way.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, it does kind o&#8217; seem as if you&#8217;d
+gone through the woods o&#8217; life to pick up a
+crooked stick at last,&#8221; sighed Susan; &#8220;though
+I will say, now I&#8217;ve been under Caleb Kimball&#8217;s
+roof, he&#8217;s an awful sight nicer man
+close to than he is fur off. So, take it all in
+all, life an&#8217; men-folks bein&#8217; so uncertain, an&#8217;
+old age a-creepin&#8217; on first thing you know,
+perhaps it&#8217;s for the best; an&#8217; I do hope you&#8217;ll
+make out to be happy, Mandy.&#8221;</p>
+<p>There was a quiver of real feeling in Susan
+Benson&#8217;s voice, though she made no
+movement to touch her friend&#8217;s hand.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m goin&#8217; to be happy!&#8221; said Amanda
+cheerfully. &#8220;I always did like plenty to do,
+an&#8217; now I&#8217;ve got it for the rest o&#8217; my
+life!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I only hope you can stan&#8217; his ways,
+Amandy,&#8221; and Susan&#8217;s voice was still doubtful.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_145' name='page_145'></a>145</span>
+&#8220;That&#8217;s all I&#8217;m afraid of; that you&#8217;re
+so diff&#8217;rent you can&#8217;t never stan&#8217; his ways.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;He won&#8217;t have so many ways when
+we&#8217;ve been married a spell,&#8221; said Amanda.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='HULDAH_THE_PROPHETESS' id='HULDAH_THE_PROPHETESS'></a>
+<h2>HULDAH THE PROPHETESS</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='ce'>
+<p>&#8220;And they went unto Huldah the</p>
+<p>Prophetess and communed with her&#8221;</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>Huldah Rumford leaned from her bedroom
+window as she finished plaiting her
+hair.</p>
+<p>The crowing of the white Brahma rooster
+had interrupted her toilet and she craned
+her neck impatiently until she discovered
+that he had come from the hen-yard in
+the rear and established himself on the
+doorsteps, from which dominating position
+he was announcing his message.</p>
+<p>&#8220;That means company coming, and I
+hope it&#8217;s true,&#8221; she said to herself, as she
+looked absent-mindedly in the old-fashioned
+looking glass, with its picture of Washington
+crossing the Delaware.</p>
+<p>Her thoughts were evidently wandering,
+for she took her petticoat from a hook in the
+closet and pulling it over her head found,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_146' name='page_146'></a>146</span>
+when she searched for the buttons in the
+waistband, that she had it on wrong-side
+out.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t care!&#8221; she exclaimed, giving
+the unoffending garment an angry twitch,
+&#8220;but it does seem as if I was possessed!
+I can&#8217;t keep my mind on my clothes long
+enough to get them on straight! I turned my
+petticoat yesterday, in spite of knowing it
+brings bad luck, but to-day I just won&#8217;t take
+the chance.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The pink calico morning dress went
+on without adventure. Then she carefully
+emptied the water from the wash-bowl into
+the jar, wiped it neatly and hung the towel
+to dry; straightened the photograph of her
+deceased father in its black-walnut frame;
+shook the feather bed and tightened a sagging
+cord under the cornhusk mattress; took
+the candlestick from the light-stand by her
+bedside and tripped down the attic stairs
+two at a time.</p>
+<p>Huldah was seventeen, which is a good
+thing; she was bewitchingly pretty, which is
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_147' name='page_147'></a>147</span>
+a better thing; and she was in love, which is
+probably the best thing of all, making due
+allowance, of course, for the occasions in
+which it is the worst possible thing that can
+happen to anybody.</p>
+<p>Mrs. Rumford was in the kitchen frying
+doughnuts for breakfast. She was a comfortable
+figure as she stood over the brimming
+&#8220;spider&#8221; with her three-pronged fork
+poised in the air. She turned the yellow
+rings in the hissing fat until they were nut-brown,
+then dropped them for a moment
+into a bowl of powdered sugar, from which
+they issued the most delicious conspirators
+against the human stomach that can be
+found in the catalogue of New England
+cookery.</p>
+<p>The table was neatly laid near the screen
+door that opened from the kitchen into the
+apple-orchard. A pan of buttermilk biscuits
+was sitting on the back of the stove, and
+half a custard pie, left from the previous
+night&#8217;s supper, held the position of honor in
+front of Mrs. Rumford&#8217;s seat. If the pie had
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_148' name='page_148'></a>148</span>
+been cereal, the doughnuts omelette, and the
+saleratus biscuits leavened bread, the plot
+and the course of this tale might have been
+different; but that is neither here nor there.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Did you hear the Brahma rooster crowing
+on the doorstep, mother?&#8221; asked Huldah.</p>
+<p>&#8220;No; but I ain&#8217;t surprised, for I can&#8217;t seem
+to keep my dish-cloth in my hand this morning;
+if I&#8217;ve dropped it once I&#8217;ve dropped it a
+dozen times: there&#8217;s company coming, sure.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;That rooster was crowin&#8217; on the fence
+last time I seen him, and he&#8217;s up there ag&#8217;in
+now,&#8221; said little Jimmy Rumford, with the
+most offensive skepticism.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What if he is?&#8221; asked his sister sharply.
+&#8220;That means fair weather, and don&#8217;t interfere
+with the sign of company coming; it
+makes it all the more certain.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I bet he ain&#8217;t crowin&#8217; about Pitt Packard,&#8221;
+retorted Jimmy, with a large joy
+illuminating his sunburnt face. &#8220;Pitt ain&#8217;t
+comin&#8217; home from Moderation this week;
+he&#8217;s gone to work on the covered bridge up
+there.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_149' name='page_149'></a>149</span></p>
+<p>Huldah&#8217;s face fell.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;d ought to have known better than to
+turn my white skirt yesterday,&#8221; she sighed.
+&#8220;I never knew it to fail bringing bad luck. I
+vow I&#8217;ll never do it again.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;That&#8217;s one o&#8217; the signs I haven&#8217;t got so
+much confidence in,&#8221; said Mrs. Rumford,
+skimming the cream from a pan of milk into
+the churn and putting the skimmed milk
+on the table. &#8220;It don&#8217;t come true with me
+more &#8217;n three times out o&#8217; five, but there&#8217;s
+others that never fails. You jest hold on,
+Huldy; the dish-cloth and the rooster knows
+as much &#8217;bout what&#8217;s goin&#8217; to happen as
+your white petticoat does.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Jest about as much,&#8221; interpolated Jimmy,
+with his utterance somewhat choked by
+hot doughnut.</p>
+<p>Huldah sat down at the table and made
+a pretense of eating something, but her
+heart was heavy within her.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What are you churning for on Friday,
+mother?&#8221; she asked.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why, I told you I am looking for strangers.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_150' name='page_150'></a>150</span>
+It ain&#8217;t Pitt Packard only that I expect.
+Yesterday mornin&#8217; I swept a black mark on
+the floor; in the afternoon I found two o&#8217; the
+settin&#8217;-room chairs standin&#8217; back to back,
+and my right hand kep&#8217; itchin&#8217; all day, so&#8217;t
+I knew I was goin&#8217; to shake hands with somebody.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You told me &#8217;t was the left hand,&#8221; said
+Jimmy.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I never told you no such thing, Jimmy
+Rumford. Eat your breakfast, and don&#8217;t
+contradict your mother, or I&#8217;ll send you to
+bed quick &#8217;s you finish eatin&#8217;. Don&#8217;t you tell
+me what I said nor what I didn&#8217;t say, for I
+won&#8217;t have it. Do you hear me?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You did!&#8221; responded Jimmy obstinately,
+preparing to dodge under the table in case
+of sudden necessity. &#8220;You said your left
+hand itched, and it meant money comin&#8217;,
+and you hoped Rube Hobson was goin&#8217; to
+pay you for the turkey he bought a year ago
+last Thanksgivin&#8217;-time, so there!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;So I did,&#8221; said the widow reflectively.
+&#8220;Come to think of it, so I did; it must &#8217;a&#8217;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_151' name='page_151'></a>151</span>
+been a Wednesday my right hand kep&#8217;
+itchin&#8217; so.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;And comp&#8217;ny didn&#8217;t come a Wednesday
+neither,&#8221; persevered Jimmy.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Jimmy Rumford, if you don&#8217;t behave
+yourself and speak when you&#8217;re spoken to,
+and not before, you&#8217;ll git a trouncin&#8217; that
+you&#8217;ll remember consid&#8217;able of a spell
+afterwards.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m ready for it!&#8221; replied the youngster,
+darting into the shed and peeping back
+into the kitchen with a malignant smile. &#8220;I
+dreamt o&#8217; Baldwin apples last night.</p>
+<table summary='poetry' style='margin:0 auto'><tr><td>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>&#8216;Dream fruit out o&#8217; season,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>That&#8217;s anger without reason.&#8217;</p>
+</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>I knew when I got up you&#8217;d get mad with
+me the first thing this morning, and I&#8217;m all
+prepared&mdash;when you ketch me!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Both women gave a sigh of relief when the
+boy&#8217;s flying figure disappeared around the
+corner of the barn. He was morally certain
+to be in mischief wherever he was, but if
+he was out of sight there was one point
+gained at least.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_152' name='page_152'></a>152</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Why do you care so dreadfully whether
+Pitt comes or not?&#8221; asked Mrs. Rumford,
+now that quiet was restored, &#8220;If he don&#8217;t
+come to-day, then he&#8217;ll come a Sunday; and
+if he don&#8217;t come this Sunday, then he&#8217;ll
+come the next one, so what&#8217;s the odds? You
+and him didn&#8217;t have a fallin&#8217; out last time
+he was home, did you?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, if you must know it, we did.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Haven&#8217;t you got any common sense,
+Huldy? Sakes alive! I thought when I married
+Daniel Rumford, if I could stand his
+temper it was nobody&#8217;s business but my
+own. I didn&#8217;t foresee that he had so much
+he could keep plenty for his own use, and
+then have a lot left to hand down to his
+children, so &#8217;t I should have to live in the
+house with it to the day of my death! Seems
+to me if I was a girl and lived in a village
+where men-folks is as scarce as they be here,
+I&#8217;d be turrible careful to keep holt of a beau
+after I&#8217;d got him. What in the name o&#8217;
+goodness did you quarrel about?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Huldah got up from the table and carried
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_153' name='page_153'></a>153</span>
+her plate and cup to the sink. She looked
+out of the window to conceal her embarrassment,
+and busied herself with preparations
+for the dish-washing, so that she
+could talk with greater freedom.</p>
+<p>&#8220;We&#8217;ve had words before this, plenty
+of times, but they didn&#8217;t amount to anything.
+Pitt&#8217;s good, and he&#8217;s handsome, and
+he&#8217;s smart; but he&#8217;s awful dictatorial and
+fault-finding, and I just ain&#8217;t goin&#8217; to eat
+too much humble-pie before I&#8217;m married,
+for fear I won&#8217;t have anything else to eat
+afterwards, and it ain&#8217;t very fattening for
+a steady diet. And if there ever was a hateful
+old woman in the world it&#8217;s his stepmother.
+I&#8217;ve heard of her saying mean
+things about our family every once in a
+while, but I wouldn&#8217;t tell you for fear you&#8217;d
+flare up and say Pitt couldn&#8217;t come to see
+me. She&#8217;s tried to set him against me ever
+since we began to keep company together.
+She&#8217;s never quite managed to do it, but
+she&#8217;s succeeded well enough to keep me in
+continual trouble.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_154' name='page_154'></a>154</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;What&#8217;s she got to say?&#8221; inquired Mrs.
+Rumford hotly. &#8220;She never had a silk dress
+in the world, till Eben Packard married
+her, and everybody knows her father was a
+horse-doctor and mine was a reg&#8217;lar one!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;She didn&#8217;t say anything about fathers,
+but she did tell Almira Berry that no member
+of the church in good standing could
+believe in signs as you did and have hope
+of salvation. She said I was a chip off the
+old block, and had been raised like a heathen.
+It seems when I was over there on Sunday
+I refused to stand up and have my height
+measured against the wall, and I told &#8217;em
+if you measured heights on Sunday you&#8217;d
+like as not die before the year was out. I
+didn&#8217;t know then she had such a prejudice
+against signs, but since that time I&#8217;ve
+dragged &#8217;em in every chance I got, just to
+spite her.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;More fool you!&#8221; said her mother, beginning
+to move the dasher of the churn
+up and down with a steady motion. &#8220;You
+might have waited until she was your
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_155' name='page_155'></a>155</span>
+mother-in-law before you began to spite her.
+The first thing you know you won&#8217;t get any
+mother-in-law.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;That&#8217;s the only thing that would console
+me for losing Pitt!&#8221; exclaimed Huldah.
+&#8220;If I can&#8217;t marry him I don&#8217;t have to live
+with her, that&#8217;s one comfort! The last thing
+she did was to tell Aunt Hitty Tarbox she&#8217;d
+as lief have Pitt bring one of the original
+Salem witches into the house as one of the
+Daniel Rumford tribe.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;The land sakes!&#8221; ejaculated the widow,
+giving a desperate and impassioned plunge
+to the churn-dasher. &#8220;Now I know why I
+dreamt of snakes and muddy water the
+night before she come here to the Ladies&#8217;
+Aid Club. Well, she&#8217;s seventy, and she
+can&#8217;t live forever; she can&#8217;t take Eben
+Packard&#8217;s money into the next world with
+her, either, and I guess if she could &#8217;t would
+melt as soon as it got there.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Huldah persevered with her confession,
+dropping an occasional tear in the dishwater.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_156' name='page_156'></a>156</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Last time Pitt came here he said he
+should have three or four days&#8217; vacation
+the 12th of August, and he thought we&#8217;d
+better get married then, if &#8217;t was agreeable
+to me. I was kind of shy, and the almanac
+was hanging alongside of the table, so I took
+it up and looked to see what day of the week
+the 12th fell on. &#8216;Oh, Pitt,&#8217; I said, &#8216;we can&#8217;t
+be married on Friday; it&#8217;s dreadful unlucky.&#8217;
+He began to scold then, and said I didn&#8217;t
+care anything about him if I wouldn&#8217;t
+marry him when it was most convenient;
+and I said I would if &#8217;t was any day but
+Friday; and he said that was all moonshine,
+and nobody but foolish old women believed
+in such nonsense; and I said there wasn&#8217;t a
+girl in town that would marry him on a Friday;
+and he said there was; and I asked him
+to come right out and tell who he meant;
+and he said he didn&#8217;t mean anybody in
+particular; and I said he did; and he said,
+well, Jennie Perkins would, on Friday or
+Sunday or wash-day or any other day; and I
+said if I was a man I vow I wouldn&#8217;t take a
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_157' name='page_157'></a>157</span>
+girl that was so anxious as all that; and he
+said he&#8217;d rather take one that was a little
+too anxious than one that wasn&#8217;t anxious
+enough; and so we had it, back and forth,
+till I got so mad I couldn&#8217;t see the almanac.
+Then, just to show him I had more good
+reasons than one, I said, &#8216;Besides, if we
+should be married on a Friday we&#8217;d have to
+go away on a Saturday, and ten to one
+&#8217;t would rain on our wedding-trip.&#8217;</p>
+<p>&#8220;&#8216;Why would it rain Saturday more than
+any other day?&#8217; said he; and then I mistrusted
+I was getting into fresh trouble, but
+I was too mad to back out, and said I,
+&#8216;They say it rains more Saturdays in the
+year than any other day&#8217;; and he got red
+in the face and said, &#8216;Where&#8217;d you get
+that silly notion?&#8217; Then I said it wasn&#8217;t
+any silly notion, it was Gospel truth, and
+anybody that took notice of anything knew
+it was so; and he said he never heard of it
+in his life; and I said there was considerable
+many things that he&#8217;d never heard of that
+he&#8217;d be all the better for knowing; and he
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_158' name='page_158'></a>158</span>
+said he was like Josh Billings, he&#8217;d rather
+know a few things well than know so many
+things that wa&#8217;n&#8217;t so.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You might have told him how we compared
+notes about rainy days at the Aid
+Club,&#8221; said her mother. &#8220;You remember
+Hannah Sophia Palmer hadn&#8217;t noticed it,
+but the minute you mentioned it she remembered
+how, when she was a child, she
+was always worryin&#8217; for fear she couldn&#8217;t
+wear her new hat a Sunday, and it must have
+been because it was threatening weather a
+Saturday, and she was afraid it would keep
+up for Sunday. And the widow Buzzell said
+she always picked up her apples for pie-baking
+on Friday, it was so apt to be dull
+or wet on a Saturday.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I told him all of that,&#8221; continued Huldah,
+&#8220;and how old Mrs. Bascom said they
+had a literary society over to Edgewood that
+used to meet twice a month on Saturday
+afternoons, and it rained or snowed so often
+they had to change their meetings to a
+Wednesday.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_159' name='page_159'></a>159</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Then the first thing I knew Pitt stood
+up so straight he looked more than ten
+feet tall, and says he, &#8216;If you don&#8217;t marry
+me a Friday, Huldah Rumford, you don&#8217;t
+marry me at all. You&#8217;re nothing but a mass
+of superstition, and if you&#8217;re so scared for
+fear it will rain on your wedding-bonnet a
+Saturday, you can stay home under cover the
+rest of your life, for all I care. I&#8217;ll wash the
+top buggy, put the umbrella under the seat,
+and take Jennie Perkins; she won&#8217;t be
+afraid of a wetting so long as she gets it in
+good company.&#8217;</p>
+<p>&#8220;&#8216;You&#8217;re right,&#8217; I said, &#8216;she won&#8217;t, especially
+if the company&#8217;s a man, for she&#8217;ll
+be so dumfounded at getting one of &#8217;em to
+sit beside her she won&#8217;t notice if it rains
+pitchforks, and so far as I&#8217;m concerned she&#8217;s
+welcome to my leavings.&#8217; Then he went out
+and slammed the kitchen door after him,
+but not so quick that I didn&#8217;t get a good
+slam on the sitting-room door first.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;He&#8217;ll come back,&#8221; churned Mrs. Rumford
+philosophically. &#8220;Jennie Perkins has
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_160' name='page_160'></a>160</span>
+got a pug nose, and a good-sized mole on
+one side of it. A mole on the nose is a sure
+sign of bad luck in love-affairs, particularly
+if it&#8217;s well to one side. He&#8217;ll come back.&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<p>But, as a matter of fact, the days went by,
+the maple-trees turned red, and Pitt Packard
+did not come back to the Rumford farm.
+His comings and his goings were all known
+to Huldah. She knew that he took Jennie
+Perkins to the Sunday-School picnic, and
+escorted her home from evening meetings.
+She knew that old Mrs. Packard had given
+her a garnet pin, a glass handkerchief-box,
+and a wreath of hair flowers made from the
+intertwined tresses of the Packards and the
+Doolittles. If these symptoms could by any
+possibility be misinterpreted, there were various
+other details of an alarmingly corroborative
+character, culminating in the marriage
+of Pitt to Jennie on a certain Friday
+evening at eight o&#8217;clock. He not only married
+her on a Friday, but he drove her to Portland
+on a Saturday morning; and the Fates, who
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_161' name='page_161'></a>161</span>
+are never above taking a little extra trouble
+when they are dealing out misery, decreed
+that it should be one of the freshest, brightest,
+most golden mornings of the early autumn.</p>
+<p>Pitt thought Portland preferable to Biddeford
+or Saco as a place to pass the brief
+honeymoon, if for no other reason than because
+the road thither lay past the Rumford
+house. But the Rumfords&#8217; blinds were
+tightly closed on the eventful Saturday, and
+an unnecessarily large placard hung ostentatiously
+on the front gate, announcing to
+passers-by that the family had gone to Old
+Orchard Beach, and would be home at sundown.
+This was a bitter blow to the bridegroom,
+for he had put down the back of the
+buggy with the intention of kissing the bride
+within full view of the Rumford windows.
+When he found it was of no use, he abandoned
+the idea, as the operation never afforded
+him any especial pleasure. He asked
+Mrs. Pitt if she preferred to go to the beach
+for her trip, but she decidedly favored the
+gayeties of a metropolis.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_162' name='page_162'></a>162</span></p>
+<p>The excitement of passing the Rumford
+house having faded, Jennie&#8217;s nose became
+so oppressive to Pitt that he finally changed
+places with her, explaining that he generally
+drove on the left side. He was more tranquil
+then, for her left profile was more pleasing,
+though for the life of him he could not help
+remembering Huldah&#8217;s sweet outlines, the
+dimple in her chin, her kissable mouth, her
+delicate ear. Why, oh, why, had she inherited
+her father&#8217;s temper and her mother&#8217;s
+gift of prophecy, to say nothing of her grandfather&#8217;s
+obstinacy and her grandmother&#8217;s
+nimble tongue! All at once it dawned upon
+him that he might have jilted Huldah without
+marrying Jennie. It would, it is true,
+have been only a half revenge; but his appetite
+for revenge was so dulled by satisfaction
+he thought he could have been perfectly
+comfortable with half the quantity,
+even if Huldah were not quite so uncomfortable
+as he wished her to be. He dismissed
+these base and disloyal sentiments,
+however, as bravely as he could, and kissed
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_163' name='page_163'></a>163</span>
+Jennie twice, in a little stretch of wood road
+that fell in opportunely with his mood of
+silent penitence.</p>
+<p>About two o&#8217;clock clouds began to gather
+in the sky, and there was a muttering of
+thunder. Pitt endured all the signs of a
+shower with such fortitude as he could
+command, and did not put up the buggy-top
+or unstrap the boot until the rain came down
+in good earnest.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Who&#8217;d have suspicioned this kind of
+weather?&#8221; he growled as he got the last
+strap into place and shook the water from
+his new straw hat.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I was afraid of it, but I didn&#8217;t like to
+speak out,&#8221; said Jennie primly; &#8220;they say
+it gen&#8217;ally does rain Saturdays.&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<p>Meanwhile Huldah lay in the spare room
+at the back of the house and sobbed quietly.
+Mrs. Rumford and the skeptical Jimmy
+had gone to Old Orchard, and Huldah had
+slipped out of the front door, tacked the obtrusive
+placard on the gate-post, and closed
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_164' name='page_164'></a>164</span>
+all the blinds in honor of the buried hopes
+that lay like a dead weight at the bottom of
+her heart.</p>
+<p>She was a silly little thing, a vain little
+thing, and a spitfire to boot, but that did
+not prevent her suffering an appreciable
+amount, all that her nature would allow;
+and if it was not as much as a larger nature
+would have suffered, neither had she much
+philosophy or strength to bear it. The burden
+is fitted to the back as often as the back
+to the burden.</p>
+<p>She frequently declared to herself afterwards
+that she should have had &#8220;a fit of
+sickness&#8221; if it had not been for the thunderstorm
+that came up on that never-to-be-forgotten
+Saturday afternoon. She had
+waked that morning with a dull pain in her
+heart&mdash;a dull pain that had grown keener
+when she looked from her attic window and
+saw the sun shining clear in the sky. Not a
+cloud sullied the surface of that fair blue
+canopy on this day of the faithless Pitt&#8217;s
+wedding-journey. A sweet wind blew the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_165' name='page_165'></a>165</span>
+tail feathers of the golden cock on the
+squire&#8217;s barn till he stared the west directly
+in the eye. What a day to drive to Portland!
+She would have worn tan-colored low shoes
+and brown openwork stockings (what ugly
+feet Jennie Perkins had!), a buff challie
+dress with little brown autumn leaves on it,
+a belt and sash of brown watered ribbon
+(Jennie had a waist like a flour-barrel!),
+and a sailor hat with a bunch of yellow roses
+on one side&mdash;or would two brown quills,
+standing up coquettishly, have been more
+attractive? Then she would have taken a
+brown cloth shoulder-cape, trimmed with
+rows upon rows of cream-colored lace, and a
+brown parasol with an acorn of polished wood
+on the handle. Oh, what was the use of living
+when she could wear none of this bridal
+apparel, but must put on her old pink
+calico and go down to meet Jimmy&#8217;s brotherly
+sneers? Was there ever such a cruelly
+sunshiny morning? A spot of flickering light
+danced and quivered on her blue wallpaper
+until she could bear it no longer, and
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_166' name='page_166'></a>166</span>
+pinned a towel over it. She sat down by the
+open window and leaned dejectedly on the
+sill, the prettiest picture of spiteful, unnecessary
+misery that the eye of mortal man
+ever rested upon, with her bright hair
+tumbling over her unbleached nightgown,
+and her little bare feet curled about the
+chair-rounds like those of a disconsolate
+child. Nobody could have approved of, or
+even sympathized with, so trivial a creature,
+but plenty of people would have been
+so sorry for her that they would have taken
+sensible, conscientious, unattractive Jennie
+Perkins out of Pitt Packard&#8217;s buggy and
+substituted the heedless little Huldah, just
+for the pleasure of seeing her smile and
+blush. There was, however, no guardian
+imp to look after her ruined fortunes, and
+she went downstairs as usual to help about
+the breakfast, wondering to herself if there
+were any tragedies in life too terrible to be
+coexistent with three meals a day and the
+dishes washed after each one of them.</p>
+<p>An infant hope stirred in her heart when
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_167' name='page_167'></a>167</span>
+she saw a red sparkle here and there on the
+sooty bottom of the tea-kettle, and it grew
+a little when her mother remarked that the
+dishwater boiled away so fast and the cows
+lay down so much that she believed it would
+rain the next day. When, that same afternoon,
+the welcome shower came with scarce
+ten minutes&#8217; warning, Huldah could hardly
+believe her eyes and ears. She jumped from
+her couch of anguish and remorse like an excited
+kitten, darted out of the house unmindful
+of the lightning, drove the Jersey calf
+under cover, chased the chickens into the
+coop, bolstered up the tomatoes so that the
+wind and rain would not blow the fruit from
+the heavily laden plants, opened the blinds
+and closed the windows.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It comes from the east,&#8221; she cried, dancing
+up and down in a glow of childish glee&mdash;&#8220;it
+comes from the east, and it&#8217;s blowing in
+on Jennie&#8217;s side of the buggy!&#8221; She did not
+know that Pitt had changed places with his
+bride, and that his broad shoulder was shielding
+her from the &#8220;angry airt.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_168' name='page_168'></a>168</span></p>
+<p>Then she flew into the kitchen and pinned
+up her blown hair in front of the cracked
+looking-glass, thinking with sympathetic
+tenderness how pretty she looked, with her
+crown of chestnut tendrils tightened by the
+dampness, her round young cheeks crimsoned
+by the wind, and her still tearful eyes
+brightened by unchristian joy. She remembered
+with naughty satisfaction how rain
+invariably straightened Jennie Perkins&#8217;s
+frizzes, and was glad, <i>glad</i> that it did. Her
+angry passions were so beautifying that the
+radiant vision in the glass almost dazzled
+her. It made her very sorry for Pitt too. She
+hated to think that his ill-temper and stubborn
+pride and obstinacy had lost him such
+a lovely creature as herself, and had forced
+him to waste his charms on so unappreciative
+and plain a person as Jennie Perkins.
+She remembered that Pitt had asked her to
+marry him coming home from the fair in a
+rainstorm. If he meant anything he said on
+that occasion, he must be suffering pangs of
+regret to-day. Oh, how good, how sweet, how
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_169' name='page_169'></a>169</span>
+kind of it to rain and support her in what
+she had prophesied of Saturday weather!</p>
+<p>All at once a healing thought popped into
+her head. &#8220;I shall not live many years,&#8221; she
+reflected&mdash;&#8220;not after losing Pitt, and having
+his mother crow over me, and that hateful
+Jennie Perkins, having the family hair wreath
+hanging over her sofa, and my wedding ring
+on her hand; but so long as I live I will keep
+account of rainy Saturdays, and find a way
+to send the record to Pitt every New Year&#8217;s
+Day just to prove that I was right. Then I
+shall die young, and perhaps he will plant
+something on my grave, and water it with
+his tears; and perhaps he will put up a marble
+gravestone over me, unbeknownst to
+Jennie, and have an appropriate verse of
+Scripture carved on it, something like:</p>
+<table summary='poetry' style=' font-variant:small-caps;'><tr><td>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>she openeth her mouth with wisdom;</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>and in her tongue is the law of kindness</p>
+</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>I can see it as plain as if it was written. I hope
+they will make it come out even on the edges,
+and that he will think to have a white marble
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_170' name='page_170'></a>170</span>
+dove perched on the top, unless it costs too
+much.&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<p>The years went on. Huldah surprised
+everybody by going away from home to get
+an education. She would have preferred marriage
+at that stage of her development, but
+to her mind there was no one worth marrying
+in Pleasant River save Pitt Packard, and,
+failing him, study would fill up the time as
+well as anything else.</p>
+<p>The education forced a good many helpful
+ideas into pretty Huldah&#8217;s somewhat
+empty pate, though it by no means cured
+her of all her superstitions. She continued
+to keep a record of Saturday weather, and
+it proved as interesting and harmless a
+hobby as the collecting of china or postage-stamps.</p>
+<p>In course of time Pitt Packard moved to
+Goshen, Indiana, where he made a comfortable
+fortune by the invention of an estimable
+pump, after which he was known by his full
+name of W. Pitt Fessenden Packard. In course
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_171' name='page_171'></a>171</span>
+of time the impish and incredulous Jimmy
+Rumford became James, and espoused the
+daughter of a wealthy Boston merchant. His
+social advancement was no surprise to Huldah
+and her mother, for, from the moment
+he had left home, they had never dreamed of
+him save in conjunction with horned cattle,
+which is well known to signify unexampled
+prosperity.</p>
+<p>In course of time, too, old Mrs. Rumford
+was gathered to her fathers after a long illness,
+in which Huldah nursed her dutifully
+and well. Her death was not entirely unexpected,
+for Hannah Sophia Palmer observed
+spots like iron rust on her fingers, a dog
+howled every night under Almira Berry&#8217;s
+window, and Huldah broke the kitchen
+looking-glass. No invalid could hope for recovery
+under these sinister circumstances,
+and Mrs. Rumford would have been the
+last woman in the world to fly in the face of
+such unmistakable signs of death. It is even
+rumored that when she heard the crash of
+glass in the kitchen she murmured piously,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_172' name='page_172'></a>172</span>
+&#8220;Now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in
+peace,&#8221; and expired within the hour.</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<p>Nineteen summers and winters had passed
+since Pitt Packard drove &#8220;her that was Jennie
+Perkins&#8221; to Portland on her wedding-trip.
+He had been a good and loyal husband;
+she had been a good and faithful wife; and
+never once in the nineteen years had they
+so much as touched the hem of the garment
+of happiness.</p>
+<p>Huldah the Prophetess lived on in the old
+house alone. Time would have gone slowly
+and drearily enough had it not been for her
+ruling passion. If the first part of the week
+were fair, she was hopeful that there was
+greater chance of rain or snow by Saturday;
+if it were rainy, she hoped there would be a
+long storm. She kept an elaborate table showing
+the weather on every day of the year.
+Fair Saturdays were printed in red ink, foul
+Saturdays in jet-black. The last days of December
+were generally spent in preparing a
+succinct statement from these daily entries.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_173' name='page_173'></a>173</span>
+Then in the month of January a neat document,
+presenting facts and figures, but no
+word of personal comment or communication,
+was addressed at first to Mr. W. P.
+Packard, and of late years to W. Pitt Fessenden
+Packard, and sent to Goshen, Indiana.</p>
+<p>Mr. Packard was a good and loyal husband,
+as I have said, but there was certainly
+no disloyalty in the annual perusal of statistical
+weather tables. That these tables,
+though made out by one of the weaker sex,
+were accurate and authentic, he had reason
+to believe, because he kept a rigid account
+of the weather himself, and compared
+Huldah&#8217;s yearly record with his own. The
+weather in Pleasant River did not, it is true,
+agree absolutely with the weather in Goshen,
+but the similarity between Maine and Indiana
+Saturdays was remarkable. The first five
+years of Pitt&#8217;s married life Huldah had the
+advantage, and the perusal of her tables afforded
+Pitt little satisfaction, since it proved
+that her superstitions had some apparent
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_174' name='page_174'></a>174</span>
+basis of reason. The next five years his turn
+came, and the fair Saturdays predominated.
+He was not any happier, however, on the
+whole, because, although he had the pleasure
+of being right himself, he lost the pleasure
+of believing Huldah right. So time went
+on until Mrs. Pitt died, and was buried under
+the handsomest granite monument that
+could be purchased by the sale of pumps.
+Not only were the funeral arrangements
+carried out with the liveliest consideration
+for the departed, but Mr. Packard abstained
+from all gay society and conducted himself
+with the greatest propriety. Nevertheless,
+when his partner and only confidential
+friend extolled Jennie&#8217;s virtues as wife,
+housekeeper, companion, and church member,
+he remarked absently: &#8220;She was all
+that, Jim, but somehow I never liked
+her.&#8221;</p>
+<p>For two years after his bereavement Huldah
+omitted sending her weather statistics
+to Mr. Packard, thinking, with some truth,
+that it might seem too marked an attention
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_175' name='page_175'></a>175</span>
+from an attractive Maine spinster to a
+&#8220;likely&#8221; Indiana widower.</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<p>Matters were in this state when Mr. Packard
+alighted at the Edgewood station one
+bright day in August. He declined the offer
+of a drive, and soon found himself on the
+well-remembered road to Pleasant River.
+He had not trodden that dusty thoroughfare
+for many a year, and every tree and shrub
+and rock had a message for him, though he
+was a plain, matter-of-fact maker of pumps.
+There was no old home to revisit, for his
+stepmother had died long ago, and Jennie
+had conscientiously removed the family
+wreath from the glass case and woven some
+of the departed lady&#8217;s hair into the funereal
+garland. He walked with the brisk step of a
+man who knew what he wanted, but there
+was a kind of breathless suspense in his manner
+which showed that he was uncertain of
+getting it. He passed the Whippoorwill Mill,
+the bubbling spring, the old moss-covered
+watering-trough, and then cut across the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_176' name='page_176'></a>176</span>
+widow Buzzell&#8217;s field straight to the Rumford
+farm. He kept rehearsing the subject-matter
+of a certain speech he intended to
+make. He knew it by heart, having repeated
+it once a day for several months, but nobody
+realized better than he that he would
+forget every word of it the moment he saw
+Huldah&mdash;at least, if the Huldah of to-day
+were anything like the Huldah of the olden
+time.</p>
+<p>The house came in sight. It used to be
+painted white; it was drab now, and there
+was a bay-window in the sitting-room. There
+was a new pump in the old place, and, happy
+omen, he discovered it was one of his own
+manufacture. He made his way by sheer
+force of habit past the kitchen windows to
+the side door. That was where they had quarreled
+mostly. He had a kind of sentiment
+about that side door. He paused a moment
+to hide his traveling-bag under the grapevine
+that shaded the porch, and as he raised
+his hand to grasp the knocker the blood
+rushed to his face and his heart leaped into
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_177' name='page_177'></a>177</span>
+his throat. Huldah stood near the window
+winding the old clock. In her right hand was
+a &#8220;Farmer&#8217;s Almanac.&#8221; How well he knew
+the yellow cover! and how like to the Huldah
+of seventeen was the Huldah of thirty-six!
+It was incredible that the pangs of disappointed
+love could make so little inroad on
+a woman&#8217;s charms. Rosy cheeks, plump figure,
+clear eyes, with a little more snap in
+them than was necessary for connubial comfort,
+but not a whit too much for beauty;
+brown hair curling round her ears and temples&mdash;what
+an ornament to a certain house
+he knew in Goshen, Indiana!</p>
+<p>She closed the wooden door of the clock,
+and, turning, took a generous bite from the
+side of a mellow August sweeting that lay
+on the table. At this rather inauspicious moment
+her eye caught Pitt&#8217;s. The sight of her
+old lover drove all prudence and reserve from
+her mind, and she came to the door with
+such an intoxicating smile and such welcoming
+hands that he would have kissed her
+then and there, even if he had not come to
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_178' name='page_178'></a>178</span>
+Pleasant River for that especial purpose. Of
+course he forgot the speech, but his gestures
+were convincing, and he mumbled a sufficient
+number of extracts from it to convince
+Huldah that he was in a proper frame of
+mind&mdash;this phrase meaning to a woman
+the one in which she can do anything she
+likes with a man.</p>
+<p>They were too old, doubtless, to cry and
+laugh in each other&#8217;s arms, and ask forgiveness
+for past follies, and regret the wasted
+years, and be thankful for present hope and
+life and love; but that is what they did, old
+as they were.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I wouldn&#8217;t have any business to ask you
+to marry such a dictatorial fool as I used to
+be, Huldah,&#8221; said Pitt; &#8220;but I&#8217;ve got over
+considerable of my foolishness, and do say
+you will. Say, too, you won&#8217;t make me wait
+any longer, but marry me Sunday or Monday.
+This is Thursday, and I must be back
+in Goshen next week at this time. Will you,
+Huldah?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Huldah blushed, but shook her head. She
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_179' name='page_179'></a>179</span>
+looked lovely when she blushed, and she
+hadn&#8217;t lost the trick of it even at thirty-six.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I know it&#8217;s soon; but never mind getting
+ready. If you won&#8217;t say Monday, make it
+Tuesday&mdash;do.&#8221;</p>
+<p>She shook her head again.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Wednesday, then. <i>Do</i> say Wednesday,
+Huldy dear.&#8221;</p>
+<p>The same smile of gentle negation.</p>
+<p>He dropped her hand disconsolately.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Then I&#8217;ll have to come back at Christmas-time,
+I s&#8217;pose. It&#8217;s just my busy season
+now, or I would stay right here on this doorstep
+till you was ready, for it seems to me
+as if I&#8217;d been waiting for you ever since I
+was born, and couldn&#8217;t get you too soon.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Do you really want me to marry you so
+much, Pitt?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Never wanted anything so bad in my
+life.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Didn&#8217;t you wonder I wasn&#8217;t more surprised
+to see you to-day?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Nothing surprises me in women-folks.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, it was because I&#8217;ve dreamed of a
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_180' name='page_180'></a>180</span>
+funeral three nights running. Do you know
+what that&#8217;s a sign of?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Pitt never winked an eyelash; he had
+learned his lesson. With a sigh of relief that
+his respected stepmother was out of hearing,
+he responded easily, &#8220;I s&#8217;pose it&#8217;s a sign
+somebody&#8217;s dead or going to die.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, it isn&#8217;t: dreams go by contraries.
+It&#8217;s a sign there&#8217;s going to be a wedding.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m glad to know that much, but I wish
+while you was about it you&#8217;d have dreamt
+a little more, and found out when the wedding
+was going to be.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I did; and if you weren&#8217;t the stupidest
+man alive you could guess.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I know I&#8217;m slow-witted,&#8221; said Pitt meekly,
+for he was in a mood to endure anything,
+&#8220;but I&#8217;ve asked you to have me on every
+day there is except the one I&#8217;m afraid to
+name.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You know I&#8217;ve had plenty of offers.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Unless all the men-folks are blind, you
+must have had a thousand, Huldah.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Huldah was distinctly pleased. As a matter
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_181' name='page_181'></a>181</span>
+of fact she had had only five; but five
+offers in the State of Maine implies a superhuman
+power of attraction not to be measured
+by the casual reader.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Are you sorry you called me a mass of
+superstition?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I wish I&#8217;d been horsewhipped where I
+stood.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Very well, then. The first time you
+wouldn&#8217;t marry me at all unless you could
+have me Friday, and of course I wouldn&#8217;t
+take you Friday under those circumstances.
+Now you say you&#8217;re glad and willing to
+marry me any day in the week, and so I&#8217;ll
+choose Friday of my own accord. I&#8217;ll marry
+you to-morrow, Pitt: and&#8221;&mdash;here she
+darted a roguishly sibylline glance at the
+clouds&mdash;&#8220;I have a water-proof; have you
+an umbrella for Saturday?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Pitt took her at her word, you may be
+sure, and married her the next day, but I
+wish you could have seen it rain on Saturday!
+There never was such a storm in Pleasant
+River. The road to the Edgewood station
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_182' name='page_182'></a>182</span>
+was a raging flood; but though the bride
+and groom were drenched to the skin they
+didn&#8217;t take cold&mdash;they were too happy.
+Love within is a beautiful counter-irritant.</p>
+<p>Huldah didn&#8217;t mind waiting a little matter
+of nineteen years, so long as her maiden flag
+sank in a sea of triumph at the end; and it
+is but simple justice to an erring but attractive
+woman to remark that she never
+said &#8220;I told you so!&#8221; to her husband.</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='TWO_ON_A_TOUR' id='TWO_ON_A_TOUR'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_183' name='page_183'></a>183</span>
+<h2>TWO ON A TOUR</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='ce'>
+<p style=' font-size:1.2em;'>LOG-BOOK OF</p>
+<p style=' font-size:1.2em; margin-bottom:2em;'>CHARLOTTE AMALIA CLIFFORD</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class='ra'>
+<p><i>S.S. Diana, January 21, 1918</i></p>
+<p><i>On the way to the Virgin Islands</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>I engrossed the above heading in my journal
+shortly after we left the dock in New
+York, but from what has occurred in the
+past few days I think my occasional entries
+in the log-book are likely to be records of
+Dorothea Valentine&#8217;s love-affairs as they
+occur to her day by day, and as unluckily
+they are poured into my ear for lack of a
+better or more convenient vessel.</p>
+<p>We are dear friends, Dolly and I. Her
+name is Dorothea, but apparently she will
+have to grow up to it, for at present everybody
+calls her Dolly, Dora, Dot, or Dodo,
+according to his or her sex, color, or previous
+condition of servitude. Dolly is twenty and
+I am thirty; indeed, her mother is only forty,
+so that I am rather her contemporary than
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_184' name='page_184'></a>184</span>
+Dolly&#8217;s, but friendship is more a matter of
+sympathy than relative age, and Mrs. Valentine
+and I are by no means twin souls. As a
+matter of fact, that lady would never have
+noticed me, the private secretary of Clive
+Winthrop, a government official in Washington,
+had it not been that, through him and
+his sister, I had access to a more interesting
+group in society than had Mrs. Valentine, a
+widow of large means but a stranger in the
+Capital. Clive Winthrop is a person of distinction
+and influence, and Miss Ellen Winthrop,
+an old friend of my mother&#8217;s, is one
+of the most charming hostesses in Washington,
+while I am in reality nothing but a paid
+scribe; the glad, willing, ardent, but silent
+assistant of a man who is serving the Administration
+with all his heart; but neither
+he nor his sister will have it so considered.
+I almost think that Miss Ellen Winthrop,
+still vivacious and vigorous at seventy, is
+ready to give up to me her place as head of
+the household if I consent to say the word;
+but I am not sure enough yet to say it; and
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_185' name='page_185'></a>185</span>
+because of that uncertainty I cannot trust
+myself in the daily company of the two persons
+most deeply concerned in my decision.</p>
+<p>A sea voyage is the best thing in the world
+to blow away doubts or difficulties; it also
+clears the air so that one can see one&#8217;s course,
+whether it be toward the north of duty or
+the south of desire.</p>
+<p>My work for a long time has been to report
+interviews, take stenographic records,
+and write hundreds of letters for Mr. Winthrop
+during the somewhat protracted discussion
+that preceded the acquisition of the
+Virgin Islands by the United States. It is
+odd that these tasks should have fallen to
+me, who added below Clive Winthrop&#8217;s signature
+to many communications the typed
+initials C. A. C., for I have a special interest
+in these new possessions of ours, a very close
+and sentimental one, since I was born on
+St. Thomas, one of the Virgin Islands, and
+christened Charlotte Amalia after the little
+red-roofed town on the shore of the perfect
+harbor. My birth in St. Thomas was entirely
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_186' name='page_186'></a>186</span>
+unpremeditated, and I was taken away as
+soon as my mother was able to travel; nevertheless,
+I have always longed during the
+twelve years of my loneliness, without father
+or mother, to see the place where they were
+so happy in each other and so blissful in the
+prospect of my appearance.</p>
+<p>I, then, have a right to this particular holiday
+and this opportunity to decide my future.
+Miss Dorothea Valentine, on the contrary,
+is a wholly unexpected, I will not say
+an unwelcome, companion, although when
+I wish to be thinking of my own problems
+she generally desires to discuss hers, which
+are trivial, though interesting and unique.</p>
+<p>Everything about the girl piques interest;
+her beauty, her charm, her childlike gayety
+and inconsequence, which are but the upper
+current of a deeper sea of sincerity and common
+sense. Somebody says: &#8220;Ladies vary
+in looks; they&#8217;re like military flags for a
+funeral or a celebration&mdash;one day furled,
+next day streaming. Men are ships; figureheads,
+about the same in a storm or a calm,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_187' name='page_187'></a>187</span>
+and not too handsome, thanks to the ocean.&#8221;
+The last phrases are peculiarly true of Clive
+Winthrop, who is sometimes called the ugliest
+man in Washington, yet who commands
+attention in any room that he enters because
+of his fine physique, his noble head, and his
+distinction of bearing and speech. Rugged
+he is, &#8220;thanks to the ocean,&#8221; but he looks as
+if he could swim against the strongest current.
+On the other hand, it cannot be said
+that Dolly Valentine varies. She is lovely at
+breakfast, lovelier at luncheon, and loveliest
+at dinner when the dazzling whiteness of her
+neck and shoulders is revealed. Only a tolerably
+generous woman would suffer herself to
+be in the almost daily companionship of such
+a charmer, and that I am in that dangerous
+juxtaposition is her fault, not mine.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You must take me with you on your sea
+voyage, Charlotte,&#8221; she said. &#8220;I must get
+away from Washington and from mother.
+No, don&#8217;t raise your eye-brows and begin
+to scold before you know what I mean! I
+am not going to criticize my maternal parent,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_188' name='page_188'></a>188</span>
+but I am so under her thumb at the
+moment that I am a flabby mass of indecision.
+I have no more mind than a jellyfish,
+yet I have to decide a matter of vital importance
+within a month. How can I make
+up a non-existent mind? Answer me that.
+Your life is so fixed and serene and settled;
+so full of absorbing work; you are so flattered
+and appreciated that you are like a big ship
+anchored in a safe harbor, and you can&#8217;t
+think what it&#8217;s like to be a silly little yacht
+bobbing about on the open sea!&#8221; (Such is
+the uncomprehending viewpoint of twenty
+toward thirty; the calm assumption that
+ladies of that mature age can have no love-affairs
+of their own to perplex them!)</p>
+<p>&#8220;There is no need of your being a silly
+little yacht, Dolly!&#8221; I answered. &#8220;If you
+want to make a real voyage you have the
+power to choose your craft.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mother always chooses for me,&#8221; she
+said with a pout. &#8220;She doesn&#8217;t gag me and
+put me in irons and lead me up the gangplank
+by brute force, but she dominates me.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_189' name='page_189'></a>189</span>
+I start out each morning like a nice, fat, pink
+balloon and by evening, though I haven&#8217;t
+felt any violent pin-pricks, I am nothing but
+a little shrunken heap of shriveled rubber.
+You know it, Charlotte! You have seen me
+bouncing at breakfast and seen me flat at
+dinner!&#8221;</p>
+<p>It was impossible not to laugh at her.
+&#8220;Don&#8217;t be ridiculous!&#8221; I expostulated.
+&#8220;There is nothing between you and happiness
+but a little cloud so diaphanous that a
+breath of common sense would blow it away.
+Now read your magazine and let me write
+in my log-book. It is intended to be an informal
+report to my chief, of the islands we
+are to visit. We shall be at St. Thomas to-morrow
+morning and in the four days we
+have been journeying from New York the
+only topic of conversation in which you
+have shown the slightest enthusiasm is
+whether you should or should not marry
+Marmaduke Hogg!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t call him all of it, Charlotte,&#8221; and
+she shuddered. &#8220;Mother is always doing it
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_190' name='page_190'></a>190</span>
+and I can&#8217;t bear it!&#8221; whereupon she flounced
+about on her deck-chair and hid her face in
+her steamer-rug.</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<p>It was a foolish little love-story, that of
+Dorothea Valentine. Her mother was a mass
+of polite and unnecessary conventions; a
+pretty sort of person with a clear profile like
+that of a cold, old little bird. Her small, sharp
+nose resembled a beak; her eyes were like
+two black beads; and her conversation was
+a lengthy series of twitterings. Charlotte
+Clifford used to tell Miss Winthrop that if
+Mrs. Valentine had been a canary, people
+would have forever been putting a towel
+over her cage to secure silence. She was always
+idle, save for a bewildering succession
+of reconstruction periods, apparently forestalling
+ruins that no one else could have
+prophesied. She dieted and reduced her hips;
+had violet rays applied to her scalp; had
+her wrinkles ironed out by some mysterious
+process. If you caught her before ten in the
+morning you would find her with crescent-shaped
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_191' name='page_191'></a>191</span>
+bits of court-plaster beside her eyes,
+in front of her ears, and between her brows.
+She was beautifully clothed, shod, gloved,
+massaged, manicured, and marcelled. She
+lived on the best sides of the streets and
+at the proper hotels. She answered notes,
+returned calls, and gave wedding presents
+punctiliously. She never used the telephone
+for invitations, nor had anything but contempt
+for abbreviations, carefully writing
+out Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, and Minneapolis,
+Minnesota, when she addressed her
+sisters in those cities. A mass of the most
+glaring virtues was Mrs. Reginald Valentine,
+impeccable and unassailable, with views on
+all subjects as rigid as the laws of the Medes
+and Persians. She had ordered her husband&#8217;s
+life during their ten years of marriage, he
+being a gentle and artistic soul, and she had
+more or less directed his exercise, amusements,
+diet, as well as his political and religious
+opinions. She nursed him faithfully
+in his last illness, but when he timidly begged
+to be cremated instead of buried, she reminded
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_192' name='page_192'></a>192</span>
+him that it was a radical, ultra-modern
+idea; that the Valentine lot and monument
+were very beautiful; that there never
+had been any cremations in the family connection;
+and that she hoped he would not
+break a long-established custom and leave
+behind him a positively irreligious request.
+Various stories of Mr. Valentine&#8217;s docility
+had crept into circulation, and it is said that
+on this occasion he turned his head meekly
+to the wall and sighed: &#8220;Very well, Emma!
+Do just as you think best; it&#8217;s your funeral!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Just how Dorothea blossomed on this stalk
+it is difficult to say. A bright-eyed, sunshiny,
+willful baby, she had grown into an unaffected,
+attractive, breezy young woman,
+outwardly obedient, inwardly mutinous. She
+was generally calm in her mother&#8217;s presence,
+never criticizing her openly, and her merry
+heart kept her from being really unhappy
+in a relationship that many girls would have
+found intolerable. Beaux she had a-plenty
+and lovers not a few. As cream or honey to
+flies, so was Dorothea Valentine to mankind
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_193' name='page_193'></a>193</span>
+in general; but she took them on gayly and
+cast them off lightly, little harm being done
+on either side by the brief experience.</p>
+<p>Of course the suits of some of the suitors
+had been hard-pressed by Mrs. Valentine.
+&#8220;You will go through the woods to find a
+crooked stick at last, Dorothea,&#8221; she would
+say. &#8220;You don&#8217;t know a desirable <i>parti</i> when
+you see one. You must have an extraordinary
+opinion of your own charms to think that you
+have only to pick and choose. Those charms
+will fade, rather prematurely, I fear, and
+when your looked-for ideal comes along it
+may be that he will not regard you as flawless.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t expect him to, mother! I only expect
+him to find my own flaws interesting.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;There is no certainty of that, my dear,&#8221;&mdash;and
+Mrs. Valentine&#8217;s tone was touched
+with cynicism. &#8220;I had an intimate friend
+once, Clara Wyman, a very nice girl she was,
+who had been in love with my cousin Roger
+Benson for years. He seemed much attached
+to her and when time went by and nothing
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_194' name='page_194'></a>194</span>
+happened, I spoke to him plainly one night
+and asked him if he didn&#8217;t intend to propose
+to her, and if not, what were his reasons.
+What do you suppose they were?&#8221;</p>
+<p>Mrs. Valentine&#8217;s tone implied that a
+shock was coming.</p>
+<p>Dolly sat erect on her mother&#8217;s Italian
+day-bed as one prepared.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m sure I have no idea&mdash;how could I
+have?&#8221; she asked.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Roger said that he didn&#8217;t like her wiping
+her nose through her veil!!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Dolly flung herself at length on the couch
+and buried her face in the cushions, her whole
+body shaking convulsively with silent mirth.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You may laugh, Dorothea, but this incident,
+which I have told many times, shows
+how fantastic, erratic, despotic, and hypercritical
+men generally are. You will come
+to your senses some time and realize that
+no one is likely to bear with your perversities
+more patiently than Arthur Wilde or
+Lee Wadsworth, who have both wasted a
+winter dangling about you.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_195' name='page_195'></a>195</span></p>
+<p>Dolly raised her head, patted her hair,
+and wiped her streaming eyes.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I realize the dangerous obstacles between
+me and the altar as I never did before,&#8221;&mdash;and
+the girl&#8217;s voice was full of laughter.
+&#8220;But I should have to lock Arthur Wilde
+in the basement whenever professors came
+to dinner. I couldn&#8217;t marry Arthur&#8217;s vocabulary,
+mother,&mdash;I couldn&#8217;t!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;He is a wonderful son, and a millionaire;
+he has three houses, four motors, and a steam
+yacht!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Sure, but that don&#8217;t &#8216;enthuse me,&#8217; &#8216;tremenjous&#8217;
+as it sounds! (I am imitating Mr.
+Wilde&#8217;s style of conversation.) And as for
+Lee Wadsworth he is bow-legged!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Lee&#8217;s reputation is straight at any rate,
+and his income all that could be desired,&#8221;
+responded Mrs. Valentine loftily. &#8220;I wish
+I could convince you, Dorothea, that there
+are no perfect husbands. You are looking
+for the impossible! Indeed, I have always
+found men singularly imperfect, even as
+friends and companions, and in a more intimate
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_196' name='page_196'></a>196</span>
+relation they leave still more to be
+desired. You dismissed Sir Thomas Scott
+because he was too dictatorial, although
+you knew he intended to have the family
+diamonds reset for you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;He&#8217;d have had them reset in Sheffield
+or Birmingham, but, anyhow, one doesn&#8217;t
+marry diamonds, mother.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;One might at least make the effort, Dorothea!
+I notice that most of the people who
+disdain diamonds generally possess three
+garnets, two amethysts, and one Mexican
+opal.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Dolly laughed. &#8220;You know I did emulate
+the celebrated Mrs. Dombey, mother.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I know you made a very brief and feeble
+effort to be sensible, and you might have
+conquered yourself had it not been for the
+sudden appearance of this young Hogg on
+your horizon.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You shall not call him a young Hogg!&#8221;
+cried Dolly passionately. &#8220;It isn&#8217;t fair; I
+won&#8217;t endure it!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I thought that was his name,&#8221; remarked
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_197' name='page_197'></a>197</span>
+Mrs. Valentine, placidly shifting a wrinkle-plaster
+from one place to another. &#8220;You
+wouldn&#8217;t object if I had alluded to young
+Benham or young Wadsworth. You show
+by your very excitement how disagreeable his
+name is to your ears. It isn&#8217;t a question of
+argument; Marmaduke Hogg is an outrageous,
+offensive name; if he had been Charles
+or James it would have been more decent.
+The &#8216;Marmaduke&#8217; simply calls attention to
+the &#8216;Hogg.&#8217; If any one had asked to introduce
+a person named Hogg to me I should
+have declined.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ve told you a dozen times, mother,
+that the Wilmots&#8217; house-party was at breakfast
+when I arrived from the night train.
+There was a perfect Babel and everybody
+was calling him &#8216;Duke.&#8217; He looked like one,
+and nobody said&mdash;the other. I didn&#8217;t even
+hear his last name till evening, and then it
+was too late.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;&#8216;Too late!&#8217; Really, Dorothea, if you
+have no sense of propriety you may leave
+the room!&#8221;&mdash;and Mrs. Valentine applied the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_198' name='page_198'></a>198</span>
+smelling-bottle to her birdlike nose as a sign
+that her nerves were racked to the limit and
+she might at any moment succumb.</p>
+<p>&#8220;All I know is,&#8221; continued Dorothea obstinately,
+&#8220;that he was the best-looking,
+the most interesting, the cleverest, the most
+companionable man in the house-party, or
+for that matter in the universe. You don&#8217;t
+ask the last name of Orlando, or Benedick,
+or Marcus Aurelius, or Albert of Belgium.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It wouldn&#8217;t be necessary.&#8221; (Here Mrs.
+Valentine was quite imperturbable.) &#8220;The
+Valentines have never been required to associate
+with theatrical people or foreigners. In
+some ways I dislike the name of Marmaduke
+as much as Hogg. It is so bombastic that it
+seems somehow like an assumed name, or as
+if the creature had been born on the stage.
+When coupled with Hogg it loses what little
+distinction it might have had by itself. One
+almost wishes it had been Marmalade. Marmalade
+Hogg suggests a quite nauseating
+combination of food, but there is a certain
+appropriateness about it.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_199' name='page_199'></a>199</span></p>
+<p>Dorothea&#8217;s face was flaming. &#8220;You will
+never allow Duke to explain himself, mother,
+nor hear me through when I attempt to make
+things clear to you. You never acknowledge
+that you know, but you do know, that Duke&#8217;s
+people were English a long way back, and
+&#8216;Marmaduke&#8217; is an old family name. The
+Winthrops will tell you that Duke&#8217;s father
+and mother were named Forrest and that
+they changed it to Hogg to pacify an old
+bachelor uncle who wanted to leave Duke six
+thousand dollars a year. He had no voice in
+the matter; he was only twelve years old.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It was a very short-sighted business
+proposition, and your Duke must have been
+very young for his age,&#8221;&mdash;and Mrs. Valentine
+took another deep sniff of lavender.
+&#8220;Sixty thousand a year wouldn&#8217;t induce me
+to be named Hogg, and I shall never consent
+to have one in my family!&#8221;</p>
+<p>Dorothea burst into tears, a most uncommon
+occurrence.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You have dwelt so long on this purely immaterial
+objection,&#8221; she sobbed, &#8220;that you
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_200' name='page_200'></a>200</span>
+have finally inoculated me with something of
+your own feeling and made me miserable and
+ashamed. I dare say, too, I have hurt Duke&#8217;s
+pride by trying to give him a reason for your
+indifferent attitude, yet never having courage
+for the real, piffling explanation. I am
+mortified at my despicable weakness and I
+will overcome it by realizing how unworthy
+I am to bear Duke&#8217;s honorable, unstained
+name, even if it is Hogg. You might as well
+give up, mother! If the dearest, best, most
+delightful man in the world loves me, I shall
+marry him, name and all.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I do not regard it as settled,&#8221; replied Mrs.
+Valentine calmly. &#8220;The young man may not
+think you so desirable when he learns that
+my refusal to accept him as a son-in-law
+means that he must take you without any income.
+Your dear father must have foreseen
+some such tragedy when he left all his money
+in my care!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Duke will take me without a penny!&#8221;
+cried Dorothea hotly. &#8220;I would stake my life
+on that!&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_201' name='page_201'></a>201</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t be melodramatic, Dorothea. We
+shall see in time. It is just possible that the
+young man may not be greedy, and so belie
+his name.&#8221; This was Mrs. Valentine&#8217;s last
+shaft as Dorothea walked out of the room
+with her chin in the air.</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<div class='ra'>
+<p><i>S.S. Diana, January 26, 1918</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>St. Thomas, and Charlotte Amalia, the little
+town for which I was named, looked so
+lovely when we landed early this morning
+that I felt a positive thrill of pride.</p>
+<p>This halfway house of the sea, this gateway
+of the Caribbean, as it has been picturesquely
+called, seemed, as Dolly and I
+climbed the hills and the stone stairways,
+to materialize into a birthplace instead of a
+vague dream. A year ago, with the <i>Dannebrog</i>,
+the scarlet, white-crossed banner of Denmark,
+floating over the red Danish fortress on the
+water-front, I might have felt an alien, but
+the Stars and Stripes made me feel at home
+and I could only remember that my father
+and mother met and loved each other in this
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_202' name='page_202'></a>202</span>
+little Paradise, and that when I was born
+there they were the two happiest people under
+the sun. If they could have seen their
+daughter saluting the American flag so near
+the very spot in which she first saw the light,
+they would have been comforted, I am sure,
+instead of repining that they had both been
+taken away when she most needed their love
+and protection.</p>
+<p>Such a view from Diana&#8217;s deck as we crept
+into the wonderful harbor! A background of
+towering green hills and a dazzling blue of
+velvet sky and crystal sea, like that of Algiers,
+greeted our enchanted gaze! Like some
+of the coast towns of Italy, Charlotte Amalia
+is gay with color, and its white, red-roofed
+villas nestle among their luxuriant gardens
+and tropical foliage, standing out in a perfect
+riot of orange and yellow, blue and red.</p>
+<p>Never, save in Venice, have I seen such a
+gorgeous array of color in a landscape.</p>
+<p>Five hours we had in St. Thomas while
+the Diana put off hundreds of barrels of
+cement; but what with the gayly painted
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_203' name='page_203'></a>203</span>
+boats and their dark-skinned crews, the
+naked brown boys diving and swimming for
+pennies and dimes in the harbor, a walk to
+Bluebeard&#8217;s Tower and Blackbeard&#8217;s Castle,
+we were well amused. Particularly so was
+Dorothea, who disappeared from my side
+for a half-hour while I chatted with the
+captain, rejoining me in the tiny palm-bordered
+park near the landing.</p>
+<p>She was glowing with happiness.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What do you think, Charlotte?&#8221; she
+exclaimed. &#8220;I have a letter from Duke. Not
+written after we sailed, of course, for it
+couldn&#8217;t have reached me. He bearded
+mother in her fortress the morning we left
+Washington. She was out, or said she was,
+but sent a note saying that I had gone on a
+journey and would be absent for a month.
+He went directly to the Winthrops for news
+and they told him I was with you and that
+if he wrote at once by special delivery he
+could reach the ship before it left New York
+dock. He sent the letter to the captain and
+asked him to give it to me at St. Thomas for
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_204' name='page_204'></a>204</span>
+a surprise. The captain is such a nice man,
+though a good deal of a tease! Mr. Winthrop
+was delighted to hear you were not alone.
+Poor Miss Winthrop has influenza and they
+both wish they had taken this trip. It seems
+they are thinking of it just a little.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;The Winthrops coming on this voyage,&#8221;
+I exclaimed. &#8220;Impossible! They hadn&#8217;t an
+idea of it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mightn&#8217;t he want to interview the
+governor and look at the island?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;He hasn&#8217;t time. I chose this journey
+instead of another so that I could interview
+the governor and look at the islands myself.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, I dare say there&#8217;s nothing in it.
+Duke didn&#8217;t speak of it as anything settled,
+and he may have misunderstood, his mind
+being on me. May I read you the letter&mdash;I
+mean parts of it?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I shouldn&#8217;t expect to hear all of it,&#8221; I
+replied dryly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yet the bits I leave out are the ones
+that show him as he is,&#8221; she said, looking
+off into the grove of palms. &#8220;Duke is so
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_205' name='page_205'></a>205</span>
+conscientious that until we succeed in melting
+mother&mdash;that would be a good title for
+a story, &#8216;Melting Mother&#8217;!&mdash;and until she
+sanctions an engagement he won&#8217;t let himself
+go, even on paper. So I get only a lovely
+sort of &#8216;seepage&#8217; that breaks through in
+spite of him!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Skip the seepage,&#8221; I said unsympathetically,
+&#8220;and give the news.&#8221;</p>
+<p>She re-read the first paragraphs to herself
+with a good deal of dimpling and with
+eyes that suffused with feeling now and then,
+and turning the page began to read aloud:</p>
+<div class='blockquot'>
+<p>Knowing that you were on the high seas far
+away from me, though safe with your charming
+Miss Clifford (Duke admires you extravagantly,
+Charlotte!), I concluded to burn my ships and
+have a straightforward talk with your mother,
+although you have repeatedly warned me that
+this was not the best method of approach and
+that only patience would win my cause. I sent
+up my card at the New Willard, and doubtless she
+would have refused to receive me, but, going from
+the office to one of the reception rooms to await
+her, I found her seated there with your Philadelphia
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_206' name='page_206'></a>206</span>
+aunt and another lady. There had evidently
+been confidences, so they scented trouble and took
+to their heels when I had been introduced to them
+somewhat informally as a friend of Dorothea&#8217;s,
+my name not being mentioned.</p>
+<p>I asked your mother, when we were left alone,
+if she had any objection to me other than my uneuphonious
+and suggestive surname.</p>
+<p>She replied guardedly, no, or at least nothing
+in particular, though she might say without conceit
+that Dorothea might aspire to anybody, even
+the highest.</p>
+<p>I cordially agreed, saying that if the male sex
+had any eye for beauty, charm or loveliness of
+character, Dorothea might marry not only anybody
+but everybody.</p>
+<p>She said she thought persiflage was out of taste
+when the happiness of a mother&#8217;s whole life was
+in question.</p>
+<p>I begged pardon, but said it was necessary for
+me to whistle to keep my courage up, for the happiness
+of <i>my</i> whole life was in question.</p>
+<p>She said that was beside the point and her
+daughter&#8217;s happiness must also be considered.</p>
+<p>I remarked that her daughter, to my infinite
+surprise and gratitude, assured me that her happiness
+lay in the same direction as my own.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_207' name='page_207'></a>207</span></p>
+<p>She vouchsafed the information that Dorothea
+was a romantic fool.</p>
+<p>I denied it.</p>
+<p>She dealt what she considered to be a body-blow
+by affirming that your property would not
+be in your hands till you were twenty-one.</p>
+<p>I replied that I didn&#8217;t care if it didn&#8217;t reach
+you till you were a hundred and twenty-one.</p>
+<p>She said, &#8220;Don&#8217;t be silly,&#8221; and asked me if
+I had ever thought of changing my name back to
+Forrest from Hogg.</p>
+<p>I inquired in return if she would mind the loss
+of six thousand dollars a year, supposing that I
+should take such a step.</p>
+<p>She reflected and said that she should, but
+she would rather lose it than take the name; and
+that we could rub along on Dorothea&#8217;s money,
+she supposed, if that was my idea of a pleasant
+life.</p>
+<p>I hastened to say that I would relinquish the
+six thousand without a pang, confident that I
+could make a living anyway; but that it would be
+disloyal to my good old uncle, whose bounty had
+given me a college course, two years at Oxford
+and three at Harvard Law School. It had also
+permitted me to give my services to the United
+States Shipping Board without compensation.</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_208' name='page_208'></a>208</span></div>
+<p>She said she thought it was very selfish in a
+government to accept a man&#8217;s whole time and
+give him no remuneration; that the Secretary of
+the Treasury had only to say to the banks, &#8220;Let
+there be money,&#8221; and there was money. There
+would be plenty for everybody if only the engravers
+and laborers at the Mint would not
+strike.</p>
+<p>I reminded her that men were remunerated
+sufficiently in being allowed to serve their country
+in time of war.</p>
+<p>She returned that she thought that point of
+view foolish and fantastic, but if she found, after
+a year, that her daughter&#8217;s peace of mind was
+threatened, would I then change my name and
+live on Dorothea&#8217;s income until I could establish
+myself in the practice of the law? She said that
+I must acknowledge that this was a ridiculously
+generous proposition and one that neither my
+talents nor my station in life merited.</p>
+<p>I replied that the proposition meant to me that
+I should simply be selling myself and buying her
+daughter, and that I declined to accept it.</p>
+</div>
+<p>(&#8220;Oh, Charlotte!&#8221; the girl interrupted
+with a catch in her throat, &#8220;don&#8217;t you think
+that was splendid and clever, too?&#8221;)
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_209' name='page_209'></a>209</span></p>
+<div class='blockquot'>
+<p>Your mother said that she wished to take the
+matter into consideration during your absence
+[so the letter ran on], and just as we were rising
+the Philadelphia aunt came in from one door and
+General X, Senator Y, and Lord Z from another.</p>
+<p>They are at the moment three of the most significant
+figures in the moving picture of Washington
+society, and all women pursue them. They
+beamed at me as if they had been commandeered
+for that special purpose, and Senator Y said
+jovially: &#8220;How are you, Duke? Glad to see you.
+Are you free to dine with us?&#8221;</p>
+<p>I hastily turned to your mother, saying: &#8220;I
+was just going to ask you and your sister if you
+would dine with me.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Lord Z, who was at Balliol with me, you remember,
+said: &#8220;Then perhaps you will allow us
+to come to your table for coffee, Hogg?&#8221; Your
+mother gazed at him, astounded that his noble
+tongue could utter the name. Then she actually
+and gracefully &#8220;fell&#8221; for the dinner, lured by
+the bait of the post-prandial coffee with the distinguished
+trio, and the Philadelphia aunt kept
+things going serenely. She is a delightful person
+and will be a perfect companion for your mother
+when&mdash;you know when&mdash;when she needs one&mdash;and
+I no longer do!</p>
+</div>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_210' name='page_210'></a>210</span></div>
+<p>(&#8220;There never was a man who said things
+like Duke!&#8221; interpolated Dolly ecstatically.)</p>
+<div class='blockquot'>
+<p>All would have gone swimmingly to the end
+had not a page suddenly entered the room bawling:
+&#8220;<i>Mr. Hogg wanted at the telephone: Mr. Hogg?
+Telephone message for Mr. HOGG!</i>&#8221;</p>
+<p>Only capitals can give an idea of the volume of
+voice. My ear-drum, grown painfully sensitive
+since I met your mother, echoed and reëchoed
+with the tone as I threaded my way through the
+crowded room, followed by every eye, while I
+imagined people saying: &#8220;I wonder if he&#8217;s called
+to the stockyard?&#8221; (It is queer, but I never felt
+this way in Oxford, for they still remember Hogg,
+the Scottish poet, and I hung myself to his revered
+coat-tails.)</p>
+<p>The telephone message was from my secretary,
+and healed my wounded vanity, for it came
+from the British Embassy conveying the thanks
+of the Foreign Office for Mr. Hogg&#8217;s friendly
+and helpful action in conducting negotiations for
+the chartering of ex-enemy ships lying in South
+American ports.</p>
+</div>
+<p>(&#8220;You see what he is!&#8221; exclaimed Dolly,
+looking up from the letter with eyes full of
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_211' name='page_211'></a>211</span>
+unshed tears! &#8220;Of course he has five or six
+superiors in office but I suppose really that
+Duke&#8217;s extraordinary talent keeps that
+whole shipping board going! You mark my
+words, Charlotte, when Duke gives up his
+position and goes to Plattsburg there&#8217;ll be
+an absolute slump in that office! But just
+hear what follows; it is so discouraging!&#8221;)</p>
+<div class='blockquot'>
+<p>But when, glowing with the delight that always
+comes to me when I have any little tribute to lay
+with my love at your charming number-three
+feet, when I returned to my table your mother
+had gone to her room and the Philadelphia aunt
+remained to explain that she had been taken suddenly
+ill.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It will all come right, Mr.&mdash;my dear boy!&#8221;
+she said. &#8220;My sister has one weakness, an abnormal
+sensitiveness to public opinion. She thinks
+constantly what people will say of this, that, or
+the other trifling thing, and in that way perpetually
+loses sight of the realities of life. There is a
+great deal of good in her that you have never seen
+because for the moment she is absolutely obsessed
+by her objection to your name and her conviction
+that Dorothea might and should marry a
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_212' name='page_212'></a>212</span>
+title. My sister married Reginald Valentine more
+for the effect on her future visiting-card than anything
+else, but Dorothea&#8217;s father bequeathed his
+good looks, his sunny disposition, his charm, and
+his generous nature to his daughter. You have
+chosen wisely, my dear Mr.&mdash;boy, but not more
+wisely, to my mind, than Dorothea has!&#8221;</p>
+<p>So it ended, but I somehow hope that I may
+have converted your mother from an enemy alien
+to an armed neutral!</p>
+</div>
+<p>&#8220;There is nothing more of&mdash;of&mdash;general
+interest,&#8221; said Dolly tearfully, as she slipped
+the letter in the envelope. &#8220;Aunt Maggie is a
+trump. Oh, Charlotte! if only you had ever
+had a love-problem like mine and could
+advise me! Duke always wondered that you
+never married.&#8221;</p>
+<p>(Dorothea ought to be cuffed for impertinence,
+but she is too unconscious and too
+pretty and lovable for corporal punishment.)</p>
+<p>&#8220;Perhaps there may still be hope even at
+thirty!&#8221; I said stiffly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, I didn&#8217;t mean that! You might
+have anybody by lifting your finger! We
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_213' name='page_213'></a>213</span>
+only wonder you&#8217;ve never lifted it! But you
+could be happy only with a very learned
+and prominent man, you are so clever!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m clever enough to prefer love to
+learning, if I have to choose, Dolly, my
+dear.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m so sorry you didn&#8217;t get a letter,
+Charlotte,&#8221; said the girl, snuggling sympathetically
+to my side on the bench.</p>
+<p>This was more than flesh and blood or
+angel could bear!</p>
+<p>I kissed her, and, shaking her off my
+shoulder vigorously, I said, as I straightened
+my hat: &#8220;As a matter of fact, Miss
+Valentine, I have had a letter every day since
+we left New York; a letter delivered before
+breakfast by the steward. You have had but
+one, yet you are twenty and I am thirty!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;<i>Charlotte!</i>&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t add to your impudence by being
+too astonished, darling,&#8221; I continued.
+&#8220;Come! let&#8217;s go and pick bananas and pineapples
+and tamarinds and shaddocks and
+star-apples and sapodillas!&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_214' name='page_214'></a>214</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;I won&#8217;t budge a step till you tell me all
+about it!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Then you&#8217;ll grow to this green bench
+and have to be cut away by your faithful
+Marmaduke!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Is it a secret?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It doesn&#8217;t exist at all for you. You are
+not of age, Dolly.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m old enough to know the things one
+can learn by heart!&#8221; was Dolly&#8217;s comment.</p>
+<p>When the Diana was leaving St. Thomas
+at sunset and we were well on our way to
+St. Croix, Dolly made a half confidence.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You are not my chaperon, Charlotte,
+because in my hour of need I simply fastened
+myself to you like a limpet, or an albatross,
+or a barnacle, or any other form of nautical
+vampire that you prefer. Still, I might as
+well confess that I cabled to Duke, or wirelessed,
+or did something awfully expensive
+of that sort at St. Thomas while you were
+having that interminable talk with the
+captain, who, by the way, is married and
+devoted to his wife, they say.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_215' name='page_215'></a>215</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;That was foolish and extravagant, my
+child,&#8221; I answered. &#8220;I don&#8217;t know what you
+said, but I have the most absolute confidence
+in your indiscretion. I hope you remembered
+that all messages are censored in war-time?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I did, indeed,&#8221; she sighed. &#8220;I was never
+so hampered and handicapped in my life,
+but I think I have outwitted the censors. I
+wish I were as sure about&mdash;mother!&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<div class='ra'>
+<p><i>S.S. Diana, January</i> 26</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>St. Croix was delightful, with a motor-ride
+across the island from Frederikstad to
+Christianstad, where we lunched.</p>
+<p>Dolly&#8217;s mind is not in a state especially
+favorable for instruction, but I took a guidebook,
+and, sitting under a wonderful tamarind
+tree, read her Alexander Hamilton&#8217;s
+well-known letter describing a West Indian
+hurricane, written from St. Croix in 1772.</p>
+<p>We were with a party of Canadian acquaintances
+made on shipboard and greatly
+interested in our first visits to sugar plantations.
+Vast cane-fields of waving green
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_216' name='page_216'></a>216</span>
+stretched mile after mile on the right and
+on the left, making it seem incredible that
+a Food Commissioner need beg the sweet
+tooth to deny itself in the midst of such
+riotous plenty.</p>
+<p>There was a dazzling glare from the
+white buildings of the town and the coral
+roads, but the moment we reached the outlying
+country all was verdant and restful.
+The beautiful hard roads ran like white
+ribbons over velvet hills and through rich
+valleys; tall windmills, belonging to the
+earlier days of sugar-making, rose picturesquely
+from the magnificent palms and
+other shade-trees; there were brilliant flowers
+and blossoming vines breaking through
+hedges here and there, and acres of pineapples
+and orange groves. Truly, our Canadian
+companions might wish us luck in our
+new possessions!</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<div class='ra'>
+<p><i>Later in the day</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>We have left the Virgin Islands now and
+at dawn we neared St. Kitts, of the Leeward
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_217' name='page_217'></a>217</span>
+group, anchoring a half-mile away from the
+landing and putting passengers ashore in
+the small boats that ranged themselves
+near the steamer. There was a very bedlam
+of chatter, argument, and recrimination
+among the black boatmen, mounting at
+times to furious invective in a patois we
+failed wholly to understand, for though the
+majority of the natives speak English on
+all the islands, whether Dutch, French, or
+British, they use a language of their own
+vintage on these undress occasions. I could
+see Dolly&#8217;s bright head and laughing eyes
+peeping through her porthole, nodding good-morning
+to me as I viewed the scene from
+my own little stateroom opposite hers.</p>
+<p>The St. Kitts boatmaster was a superb
+personage in white linen uniform and cap.
+He stood at the top of the steps lowered
+from our steamer to the ocean, and from
+that serene height of power commanded
+his clamorous and refractory legions.</p>
+<p>It was his voice that called me irresistibly
+from my berth and kept my ears, as
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_218' name='page_218'></a>218</span>
+well as my eyes, glued to the porthole of my
+cabin. It was a deep, rich barytone, as full
+of color as his own native skies and sea.
+The white cap set off his dark skin, and a
+pair of eyes that shot lightnings of authority
+gleamed from under his vizor. He ought to
+have been singing the &#8220;Pagliacci&#8221; prologue
+at the Metropolitan Opera House, but instead
+he was calling resonantly (his private
+megaphone seemed to be located in his own
+throat): &#8220;<i>Don&#8217;t crowd, Edward.... Push
+in, Victoria.... Get away, George.... Come
+nearer, come nearer, Mary.... Show your
+number, Albert, or meet me in court to-morrow
+at eleven!</i>&#8221;</p>
+<p>As a matter of fact, these were the names
+painted on the boats crowding and jamming
+their way to the most favorable places for
+securing passengers or freight; but the
+quality of his voice made it seem as if, in
+calling Victoria, Edward, George, Mary, and
+Albert, he were summoning a corporeal
+bevy of kings and queens to do his instant
+bidding. The excitement reached its climax
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_219' name='page_219'></a>219</span>
+when an aged bishop descended the stairway,
+which was under some circumstances as perilous
+as a ladder. The bishop&#8217;s quaint hat
+and gown and hood of various colors made
+him seem like a benign figure in comic opera;
+and perhaps because of his dignity or his
+multiplicity of luggage, all the boats ardently
+desired him as a passenger. Two green boxes,
+carrying much information painted in white
+on the sides, gave us all details of his rank,
+ancestry, and place of residence. These
+were projected down the stairway and then
+followed an imposing procession of servitors
+bearing potted plants, packages done up in
+linen cloth, baskets of eggs, limes, lemons,
+grapefruit, a canary in a cage, some white
+mice, and a Persian cat; the last three, it is
+needless to say, being in separate crates.</p>
+<p>Majestic being, that St. Kitts boatmaster;
+never more impressive than when he successfully
+landed a bishop of the isles! Dolly
+and I recalled the &#8220;Admirable Crichton&#8221;
+in Barrie&#8217;s whimsical play, who, as butler
+in a titled English family, was wrecked with
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_220' name='page_220'></a>220</span>
+the entire household on a desert island. It
+needed only the emergencies of twenty-four
+hours to establish him as the dominant intellectual
+force and the practical governor
+of the sadly inefficient earls, countesses,
+ladies, and honorables; and before long he
+assumed the authority properly belonging
+to him. That the earl&#8217;s daughter finally fell
+in love with him seemed not so much dramatic
+license as a tribute to his obvious superiority.
+In London the lady would have been
+criticized as marrying beneath her; on the
+desert island it actually appeared as if she
+were doing particularly well for herself;
+indeed, Dolly confessed that though she
+would prefer marrying Marmaduke Hogg
+she would rather be wrecked in the company
+of the St. Kitts boatmaster.</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<div class='ra'>
+<p><i>S.S. Diana, Sunday, January 27</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>After breakfast, on our way to anchor at
+Antigua for the night, we saw in the distance
+the towering cone of Nevis, the &#8220;Gorgeous
+Isle&#8221; of Alexander Hamilton&#8217;s birth
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_221' name='page_221'></a>221</span>
+and the famous scene of Lord Nelson&#8217;s
+marriage. It has fallen from its proud estate
+of former years into poverty and neglect,
+but it is still marvelously beautiful to the
+eye. We sat on deck reading, or at least
+glancing drowsily over the pages of our
+books to the sapphire sea and the emerald
+forests of the island shores with a never-ceasing
+delight. There were three Roman
+Catholic priests on board, also four Protestant
+missionaries, one of them with a wife
+and a family of charming children&mdash;Samuel,
+Naomi, Esther, Daniel. Piously they were
+named and never once did they bring contempt
+on the Holy Scriptures! From below
+in a far end of the boat we could hear echoes
+of gospel hymns in some little cabin where
+a Sunday-morning service was being held.</p>
+<p>Dorothea gave a deep sigh.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It is all so peaceful, Charlotte! One day
+just like another and all beautiful and tranquil.
+We haven&#8217;t seen anybody hurry since
+we left New York. Do you remember Rudyard
+Kipling saying, when he came back
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_222' name='page_222'></a>222</span>
+there after a long absence, that he was afraid
+to step slowly lest the man behind him
+should walk up his back? Nobody ever
+seems nervous in these islands. The natives
+can be ragged and hungry without being
+much concerned. Work never appears to be
+a delight to them for its own sake, but only
+as a means to get food. I feel slip&mdash;slip&mdash;slipping
+into a heavenly state of coma. Does
+anything ever stir the tropics except hurricanes
+and earthquakes, I wonder? How can
+women fight for suffrage in this climate?
+How can a man be awakened to great ambitions?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Alexander Hamilton was born on Nevis
+and passed all his boyhood and youthful
+days on what is now our own St. Croix,&#8221; I
+said.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, but he wasn&#8217;t Washington&#8217;s aide-de-camp
+nor secretary of the treasury in the
+tropics!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;True; nevertheless, when he was Nicholas
+Cruger&#8217;s bookkeeper at the age of
+twelve he wrote to an American friend: &#8216;I
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_223' name='page_223'></a>223</span>
+contemn the groveling condition of a clerk
+to which my fortunes condemn me, and I
+would willingly risk my life, though not
+my character, to exalt my station.... My
+youth excludes me from any hope of immediate
+preferment, but I mean to prepare the
+way for futurity.&#8217; You see the yeast was
+stirring, even in the tropics, Dolly!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, I feel no yeast stirring in me,&#8221; she
+said languidly. &#8220;All the morning I have been
+trying to recapture a certain &#8216;Ode to a Cow&#8217;
+written by a man of action in a country hotel
+where mother and I were sojourning last
+summer. I could have echoed it when I first
+regarded the inhabitants of these islands,
+and now anybody might say it of me, for I
+grow more and more cow-like with every
+passing day. It runs this way:</p>
+<table summary='poetry' style='margin:0 auto'><tr><td>
+<br />
+<p  style='text-align: center;'>&#8220;&#8216;ODE TO A CUD-CHEWING COW</p>
+<br />
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>&#8220;&#8216;Why, Cow, art thou so satisfied,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>So well content with all things here below,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>So meek, so lazy, and so awful slow?</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>Dost thou not know that men&#8217;s affairs are mixed?</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_224' name='page_224'></a>224</span></div>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>That grievously the world needs to be fixed?</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>That nothing we can do has any worth?</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>That life is care and trouble and untowardness?</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>Prit, Cow! This is no time for idleness!</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>The cud thou chewest is not what it seems.</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>Get up and moo! Tear round and quit thy dreams!&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>By this time Dorothea was asleep. Her
+book slid to the floor, I shaded her face with
+my green umbrella, pulled down her muslin
+frock over her pretty ankles, and gave myself
+up to vagrant thoughts of her probable
+future.</p>
+<p>Sunday on shipboard is a good day for
+reflections and heart-searchings. My own
+problem, after all, is not so baffling as Dolly&#8217;s.
+She is as loyal as a charming and sensible
+girl can be to a mother like Mrs. Valentine,
+whose soul, if the truth were told, is about
+the size of a mustard-seed. A frivolous, useless,
+bird-minded woman is Dolly&#8217;s mother;
+a woman pecking at life as a canary pecks
+at its cuttlefish, simply to sharpen its bill.
+How the girl can respect her I cannot
+imagine! I suppose flesh calls to flesh and
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_225' name='page_225'></a>225</span>
+she loves her without too much analysis,
+but they seem to have come to the parting
+of the ways. It is Dolly&#8217;s highest self that is
+in love with Marmaduke Hogg, and I don&#8217;t
+believe she will sacrifice it to a maternal
+whim and call it filial obedience. Perhaps
+the absence that makes the heart grow
+fonder is working like a philter in this
+journey planned by Mrs. Valentine with a
+far different purpose.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Let her go with you, Charlotte,&#8221; she
+begged me with tears in her eyes. &#8220;I must
+get her away from this attractive but undesirable
+young man! That absurd uncle
+who didn&#8217;t want his name to die out must
+have been a lunatic or an imbecile. Why
+shouldn&#8217;t such a vulgar name become extinct?
+And to think that my exquisite
+Dorothea&mdash;whose figure and eyelashes
+have been remarked by royalty&mdash;to think
+that she should be expected to graft herself
+on to that family tree of all others! To think
+that she may take that name herself and, for
+aught we know, add half a dozen more to
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_226' name='page_226'></a>226</span>
+the list; all boys, probably, who would marry
+in course of time and produce others, piling
+Hoggs on Hoggs, as it were! It is like one of
+those horrible endless chains that are condemned
+by the government!&#8221;</p>
+<p>I gave way to peals of laughter at this
+impassioned speech, evidently annoying
+Mrs. Valentine, who expected sympathy.
+I tried to placate her with reference to the
+poet of the name which had none but delightful
+associations in Scotland.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Then if they choose to defy me and
+marry each other, let them go and live in
+Scotland!&#8221; she snapped.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Would you have minded Dolly&#8217;s marrying
+Lord Bacon?&#8221; I asked.</p>
+<p>This gave her food for thought.</p>
+<p>&#8220;No,&#8221; she said reflectively, &#8220;for, of
+course, he was a lord, which is something.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;But how about the associations?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I can&#8217;t explain, but somehow they are
+not as repulsive to me,&#8221; she insisted. &#8220;I
+always think of bacon cooked, not raw, and&mdash;the
+other is alive!&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_227' name='page_227'></a>227</span></p>
+<p>As for my own difficulty, it is, after all,
+a conventional one. I cannot bear the idea
+of marrying my employer; a man known
+by sight and reputation to everybody in
+Washington, while I am a relatively unknown
+person without fortune, kith, or kin.
+The thought brings to mind sensational
+headlines in cheap newspapers regarding the
+wedding of some aged millionaire with his
+youthful stenographer, and the consequent
+alarms of his household; or the alliance of
+some scion of a wealthy house with a trained
+nurse of obscure lineage and vaulting ambition.
+I am all alone in the world, and
+though my father, who died when he was
+only five and twenty, left me but the barest
+support, I have gloried in my independence
+and rejoiced in my modest successes.</p>
+<p>My people on both sides were of good
+stock. Even the Winthrops could climb my
+family tree and find no bad fruit on it,
+but the world will say: &#8220;What a splendid
+match for Charlotte Clifford.&#8221; ... &#8220;I wonder
+how Ellen Winthrop will take it?&#8221; ...
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_228' name='page_228'></a>228</span>
+&#8220;I shouldn&#8217;t have thought Clive Winthrop
+would marry his secretary, somehow, though
+there&#8217;s nothing against her; but he could
+look higher!&#8221;</p>
+<p>The world would be quite right. It is a
+splendid marriage for Charlotte Clifford,
+and Clive Winthrop could look higher. He
+is my superior and that is the reason I love
+him. That he loves me proves that there is
+something in me that will rise to his level.
+All the same, I wrote him when I came away
+that I could never cross the bridge between
+us (there is a bridge, although he does not
+see it) until I was no longer his secretary
+and until I was sure his sister would welcome
+me into the household that has been so
+harmonious and delightful to every human
+being that has ever crossed its threshold.
+Nobody could equal Ellen Winthrop as a
+hostess, with her fine, spirited face, lovely
+even at seventy; her gift of repartee, her
+stately manner, her simple, trailing dress,
+always of black or gray, and always reaching
+the floor, when most of the feminine world
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_229' name='page_229'></a>229</span>
+looks, in its best clothes, as if mounted on
+stilts, with a skimpy, semi-detached tail
+wriggling its silly length behind! I could
+never scale the heights on which the splendid
+Ellen perpetually dwells, but I could sit at
+the foot of them and admire with all my
+heart, and perhaps that attitude, if fully
+understood, might win her affection.</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<div class='ra'>
+<p><i>S.S. Diana, January 28, 1918</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>At Antigua we anchored and took a steam
+launch to see the town, where we visited a
+very fine sugar-cane factory, watching the
+whole process from the cane-field to the
+market.</p>
+<p>We did not land at Guadeloupe, the hour
+not being favorable and the stay being too
+brief to compensate for the effort involved.
+But this morning at eight we approached
+Dominica, the largest of the Leeward group,
+the loftiest of the Lesser Antilles, and the
+loveliest&mdash;if one could or ought to make
+comparison&mdash;the loveliest of the West
+Indian Isles. The guidebook calls it &#8220;The
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_230' name='page_230'></a>230</span>
+Caribbean Wonderland,&#8221; and Dolly and
+I were not disposed to quarrel with the
+phrase, after hanging over the deck-rail
+for an hour before breakfast and marveling
+at the beauty of the view. Mountains shimmered
+in the distance like visions seen in
+dreams, mountains like towering emeralds
+springing from a sapphire sea! We passed
+tiny hamlets, half-hidden in lime orchards,
+and cocoa-groves with yellow patches of
+cane gleaming here and there against a
+background of forest. As we drew nearer
+we could see white torrents dashing tempestuously
+down through green valleys, for
+Dominica has a too plenteous water-supply,
+since in some districts three hundred inches
+a year is the average rainfall. It rained seven
+times in the three hours that we passed on
+shore, but the showers were gentle ones, and
+we found generous shelter in the wonderful
+Botanical Garden, where we spent most of
+our time.</p>
+<p>Nature is sometimes a kindly mother;
+often she wears a tragic mask, and now and
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_231' name='page_231'></a>231</span>
+then she indulges in melodrama; but I never
+conceived the possibility of her having a
+sense of humor until we witnessed her freakish
+mood in the Dominica garden. There
+were the usual varieties of magnificent palms
+and brilliant flowering shrubs; but the joy
+of joys was the Sausage-Tree, around which
+we walked in helpless mirth at the incredible
+veracity of the imitation. It reached a goodly
+height, and had a splendid girth and circumference
+of shade; but no factory in
+Bologna or Frankfort, or any other possible
+birthplace of the real article, could rival
+this amazing, this funny, tree in fertility.
+Its product was just a trifle large, save for
+the omnivorous lover of sausage; but in
+other respects it was a faithful copy of the
+original&mdash;unless, indeed, the first sausage-maker
+borrowed the idea from the tree, instead
+of the other way about. These vegetable
+sausages hung in hundreds of strings
+and festoons and clusters from the topmost
+to the lowest branches. Because of the way
+they hung, the way they were strung, their
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_232' name='page_232'></a>232</span>
+shape and color, and the very manner in
+which the skin was neatly drawn over each
+one and fastened, no one possessing a sense
+of the ridiculous but would sit down under
+the tree and laugh at the joke. Oddly enough
+we could find no pictorial postcard of this
+phenomenon to bring home for the enlivening
+of winter evenings, though we bought a
+capital one of the Cannon-Ball Tree, just as
+unique in its way but not so absurd.</p>
+<p>Dorothea was enchanted with Dominica,
+and kept exclaiming every few minutes:
+&#8220;Oh, if only Great Britain would sell us
+this island! I think I&#8217;d choose to live in
+Dominica, because if I had a sausage-tree
+in my garden I should laugh every day, and
+the children wouldn&#8217;t need any playthings.&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<div class='ra'>
+<p><i> S.S. Diana, February 1, 1918</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>We have had a glimpse of France through
+a day at Martinique. The principal feature
+of our visit was a wild motor-drive up an
+eighteen-hundred-foot mountain. It was a
+steady climb from glory to glory, with tropical
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_233' name='page_233'></a>233</span>
+forests on every side. Our method of
+progress was not quite serene, for there was
+not a sufficient number of cars to satisfy the
+demand.</p>
+<p>After a long wait Dolly and I took a
+small mongrel sort of motor that had been
+refused by all the Diana&#8217;s passengers. The
+Creole driver, handsome, debonair, persuasive,
+and fluent, though unintelligible, assured
+us that he had ascended and descended
+the mountain hundreds of times, a fact only
+too obvious to one who examined his means
+of transportation. None of the tires matched,
+and two of them looked like wounded
+soldiers just home from the front, displaying
+patches of adhesive plaster and bandages
+of cotton and woolen rags of every
+color, with an occasional inset of an alien
+material into the rubber. One could catch
+a glimpse of a tin tomato-can neatly introduced
+in the place of some vital bit of
+machinery; a Waterbury alarm-clock figured
+in an unexpected position, apparently adding
+its power to the engine; and there were
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_234' name='page_234'></a>234</span>
+stout ropes, here and there, which I never
+observed before in the rigging of any motor.</p>
+<p>I hesitated to enter, for the future, though
+not absolutely certain, looked full of hope
+and promise; but Dolly was firm and reckless.
+I am ten years her senior, but still
+young to be called a &#8220;&#8217;fraid cat&#8221; with impunity;
+so I finally mounted the vehicle.
+The driver gave a gay, insouciant tap to a
+front tire, as much as to say: &#8220;Courage,
+mon enfant! C&#8217;est la dernière fois!&#8221;&mdash;then
+flung himself into his seat, and, blowing a
+horn, started his base-hospital up the mountain
+at a breakneck pace. The motor&#8217;s own
+horn was out of commission, but there was a
+substitute by the driver&#8217;s side. It was easy
+for him to blow it because he had no particular
+use for either of his hands, his steering
+being left largely to chance. Repeated expostulations
+in boarding-school French only
+elicited a reply that sounded like: &#8220;Soyez
+tranquilles, mesdames. You speak American?
+Bien! Leezy est parfaitement docile!&#8221;</p>
+<p>This conveyed no idea to me, although
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_235' name='page_235'></a>235</span>
+his broad grin convinced me that in his
+own opinion it was a subtle witticism. At
+length, however, it burst upon Dolly, who
+went off into irrepressible gales of laughter.</p>
+<p>&#8220;You have lived so continuously in a
+rarefied Winthrop atmosphere, Charlotte,
+that you haven&#8217;t any modern vocabulary.
+He is telling you the pet name of his car, to
+give you confidence. Nobody ever dies in a
+tin &#8216;Lizzie.&#8217; Not only is the machine indestructible,
+but the people that ride in it.
+Isn&#8217;t the driver a witty, reckless darling?&#8221;</p>
+<p>He was, indeed; and, incredible as it may
+seem, Lizzie ascended and descended the
+mountain in safety&mdash;though only because
+a kind Providence watched over us. Then,
+when we had paid the reckless, danger-proof
+darling twice the sum he should have demanded,
+we sat on a bench in the Savanna,
+where we could be quietly grateful that we
+were alive and watch the coming and going
+of the Fort-de-France townspeople, so unmistakably
+French, with the bright costumes
+of the women, the pose of their turbans or
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_236' name='page_236'></a>236</span>
+hats, their sparkle and chatter and vivacious
+gestures.</p>
+<p>Here in the Savanna travelers always
+gather to look at the marble statue of the
+Empress Josephine, which is called the
+greatest work of art in the West Indies.
+That is not fatuous praise, perhaps, but the
+figure needed the hand of no master sculptor
+to hold the eye and captivate the imagination.
+It is mounted on a huge pedestal
+and is of heroic size, the white glitter of its
+marble enhanced by its truly magnificent
+setting, a circle of towering royal palms.
+There she stands, the lovely Creole woman
+of Martinique, forever looking at &#8220;Trois
+Islets,&#8221; as if she were remembering her
+birth in an overseer&#8217;s shack and her girlhood
+passed in a sugar-mill. Straightway the
+crowds of native men and women chaffering
+in the market-place, the mothers holding
+up their crowing babies to the statue, the
+nursemaids and groups of playing children,
+all vanished, and we re-lived in spirit poor
+Josephine&#8217;s past, thrilling anew at the remembrance
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_237' name='page_237'></a>237</span>
+of her romance, her triumph,
+and her bitter sorrow&mdash;the Creole girl who
+crossed the sea to become Empress of France
+and share a throne with Napoleon, but who
+sailed back to her island home a brokenhearted
+woman.</p>
+<p>Good-bye, Martinique, land of Josephine;
+and land of St. Pierre, the scene of one
+of the greatest tragedies of modern times,
+when the fury of Mont Pelée engulfed the
+growth of centuries and buried forty thousand
+human creatures in its scalding lava.
+St. Lucia, of the Windward group, to-morrow,
+and then Barbados, from whence the
+Diana goes on to Demerara and returns
+a week or so later, so that we are able to
+rejoin her, taking up our former comfortable
+cabins and our much-liked captain.</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<div class='ra'>
+<p style=' margin-right:4em;'><i>S.S. Diana</i></p>
+<p><i>Between Barbados and New York</i></p>
+<p style=' margin-right:4em;'><i>February</i> 11</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>Here we are again on our homeward trip,
+making fewer landings and briefer stops,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_238' name='page_238'></a>238</span>
+principally to take on passengers and thousands
+of barrels of limes.</p>
+<p>Barbados, with its charming hotel at
+Hastings, was an unalloyed delight; and
+Dorothea, who had determined to live in
+each of the islands as it came along, would
+finally have transferred her allegiance for
+good and all had it not seemed more loyal
+for an American to choose one of our own
+possessions and &#8220;grow up with the country.&#8221;
+We found ourselves in the midst of pleasant,
+even distinguished, society&mdash;British officials,
+ex-governors, and judge-advocates of
+the various islands, English and Canadian
+soldiers on sick-leave, and officers commanding
+the U-boat chasers in near-by waters.
+Dorothea danced nightly and held court
+daily on the broad piazzas, reminding me
+of Rudyard Kipling&#8217;s fascinating heroine
+in an Indian army post, who, whenever she
+appeared, caused the horizon to become
+black with majors. Her head and heart remained
+true to the absent Marmaduke&mdash;I
+am not so sure about her dancing feet!
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_239' name='page_239'></a>239</span></p>
+<p>Now that that experience is over, with
+the many others, we are at sea and quiet
+again, with one tranquil day just like the
+other.</p>
+<p>&#8220;What a honeymoon journey it would
+make, Charlotte!&#8221; said Dolly one moonlight
+evening on deck. &#8220;It is so difficult to
+grow in knowledge of people in New York
+or Washington. One doesn&#8217;t even know
+one&#8217;s self.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;All journeys must be good for honeymooners,
+don&#8217;t you think?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, in a way; but some places are
+created for lovers and newlyweds, who are,
+after all, only explorers, Charlotte, forever
+discovering new lands and annexing new
+territories.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes; and sometimes falling into the
+hands of savages and cannibals, I suppose.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes; that must be terrible&mdash;the awakening
+to find that one has been mistaken in
+a man!&#8221; sighed Dolly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I dare say we ought to worry lest men be
+mistaken in us; it might happen, you know.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_240' name='page_240'></a>240</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Your mind is so logical, Charlotte!
+However, this voyage wouldn&#8217;t have to be
+idealized to meet the needs of honeymooners.
+In a Vermont village where I sometimes stay
+I remember a girl who had to be married
+on Sunday because she could not give up
+her position as telegraph-operator till Saturday
+night. That was dull enough in all conscience,
+but she was married in her high-school
+graduating dress, and went to her
+grandmother&#8217;s house, ten miles away, for
+her wedding-journey. I think it required
+considerable inward felicity to exalt that
+situation!&#8221;</p>
+<p>I sat upright in my steamer chair. &#8220;Dorothea,&#8221;
+I said sharply, &#8220;you have been
+manufacturing conversation for the last five
+minutes&mdash;just killing time for fear that I
+should ask you questions. Is there anything
+on your mind? You have been absentminded
+and nervous for days.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Your imagination is working overtime,
+Charlotte,&#8221; she answered. &#8220;We are nearing
+home, that is all; and life presses closer.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_241' name='page_241'></a>241</span></p>
+<p>I could not gainsay her, for every mile
+of ocean crossed makes my heart beat
+faster. I seem to be living just now in a
+sort of pause between my different lives.
+There is the heaven of my childhood in
+the vague background; then the building of
+my &#8220;career,&#8221; if so modest a thing can be
+called by so shining a name; then the steady,
+half-conscious growth of a love that illumines
+my labors, yet makes them difficult
+and perplexing; and now there is a sense of
+suspended activity, of waiting, with a glimmering
+air-castle rising like an iridescent
+bubble out of the hazy future. Sometimes
+there are two welcoming faces at a window
+and sometimes the indistinct figure of a
+woman stretching out a forbidding hand,
+my chief&#8217;s sister, who may not want a third
+person in the family!</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<div class='ra'>
+<p><i>S.S. Diana, February 13, 1918</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>Dolly went on the bridge this afternoon
+and stayed a half-hour with the captain,
+giving no reason save that she liked to talk
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_242' name='page_242'></a>242</span>
+with him, which seemed plausible, but did
+not satisfy me. At bedtime I discovered her
+unpacking and laying out in her upper berth
+a dazzling toilet for our landing at St.
+Thomas to-morrow. She blushed when I
+looked in upon her.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Do dress &#8216;up to me,&#8217; Charlotte,&#8221; she
+coaxed. &#8220;I don&#8217;t want to be conspicuous.
+Wear your gray georgette and the broad hat
+with the roses.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why this sudden display of vanity and
+good clothes?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Hasn&#8217;t your letter of introduction to
+Governor Oliver brought us an invitation
+to luncheon at Government House?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes; but I don&#8217;t suppose it is a banquet.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Charlotte, I must confide in you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I should think it was about time.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;What do you mean?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I have known for days that you were
+concealing something.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I didn&#8217;t want to be secretive, but I
+thought it was only fair to you to keep my
+own counsel. Now you can report to mother
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_243' name='page_243'></a>243</span>
+that you knew nothing, and that therefore
+you couldn&#8217;t interfere.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;But what have you done? You can&#8217;t
+be secretly married&mdash;with your chosen
+man in Washington and you on the vasty
+deep.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No; but I&#8217;m next door to it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;What do you mean by &#8216;next door&#8217;?
+Have you a groom and a minister waiting
+on the New York dock?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No; mother will be there, but I fear
+she won&#8217;t bring a minister. I&#8217;m so glad
+you imagined something far, far worse
+than I ever intended. It shows that you
+are more audacious than I&mdash;though nobody
+would believe it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t like your tone; but go on.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ve been communicating rather frequently
+with Duke.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;So I fancied, from your changing money
+at every stop and doing continual sums on
+paper.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It has made me a pauper&mdash;this telegraphing
+in war-time. The messages go
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_244' name='page_244'></a>244</span>
+by Jamaica or Porto Rico or Trinidad or
+Bermuda and lots of other islands, and I
+think some of the messages must be personally
+conducted straight to New York by
+powerful swimmers, judging by the cost.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Go on. Don&#8217;t temporize.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I needn&#8217;t repeat all of them, and in
+fact I haven&#8217;t copies. Duke, after he had
+my first telegram from St. Thomas, wired
+back to St. Croix, &#8216;<i>You are willing to take
+my name. Why, after all, shouldn&#8217;t I refuse
+your sacrifice and make one of my own by
+taking yours?</i>&#8217; Wasn&#8217;t that noble?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It would have softened the heart of a
+suffragette or a feminist. What did you
+reply?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I said: &#8216;<i>Never in the world!</i>&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;&#8216;Never&#8217; would have been enough. You
+wasted three words at a dollar or so apiece.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I wanted to be strong. I said: &#8216;<i>Never in
+the world! I am not going to have you criticized
+and nagged and made unhappy, as if your
+name were a crime!</i>&#8217; Then he wired: &#8216;<i>But it
+would remove objections, and cost only six
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_245' name='page_245'></a>245</span>
+thousand a year.</i>&#8217; I had to wait two whole
+days and nights before I could cable: &#8216;<i>Objector
+will surely meet me in New York. She
+will probably forgive if we are both firm. My
+mind is made up. I would rather be a you-know-what
+than remain a Valentine.</i>&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;That was strong enough.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I meant it to be. He has been scurrilously
+treated, and somebody must stand by him.
+Now, to-morrow, February 14th, is his
+birthday. I remember it because we met
+on St. Valentine&#8217;s day, and it wasn&#8217;t many
+hours afterward that I guessed how he felt
+about me.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Dorothea! Do you mean to tell me that
+a man spoke to you of his feelings within
+twenty-four hours of the time you met?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, I do not.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You certainly intimated as much. If it
+wasn&#8217;t many hours after you met on the
+14th it must have been on the 15th.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, you are wrong, Charlotte. It was
+the evening of the same day. We met in the
+early morning.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_246' name='page_246'></a>246</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;It sounds like a children&#8217;s party with an
+exchange of those snapping-mottoes.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Duke is nearly twenty-eight, you know,
+Charlotte; so it is simply nonsense to jeer
+at him. You ought to be able to imagine
+what sort of things would be said between
+two persons mutually attracted to each
+other&mdash;when you remember that he was
+born on February 14th and my name is
+Valentine. The coincidence simply put ideas
+into our heads; but I won&#8217;t go on if you
+don&#8217;t sympathize.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t actually disapprove, not at
+heart. Now, what has his birthday got to
+do with to-morrow and St. Thomas?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why, I cabled him as soon as we arrived
+at Barbados: &#8216;<i>What would you like
+for a birthday present from the West Indies?</i>&#8217;
+I knew that he would remember we met on
+St. Valentine&#8217;s day and an answer could
+reach me at St. Thomas.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Couldn&#8217;t you buy him a souvenir without
+inquiring at great expense what he&#8217;d
+prefer?&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_247' name='page_247'></a>247</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Ye-es; but I thought it was a nice, affectionate
+question.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, he cabled one word, Charlotte.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I guessed that the moment you quoted
+your message. When you asked: &#8216;<i>What shall
+I bring you from the West Indies?</i>&#8217; Duke
+promptly answered, &#8216;<i>Yourself.</i>&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Charlotte, you are positively uncanny!
+How did you manage to hit upon it?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It doesn&#8217;t take as much intellect as you
+fancy. You are as transparent as a plate of
+glass. Well, when he said &#8216;<i>Yourself</i>,&#8217; how did
+you answer him?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s the only thing I don&#8217;t like to tell
+you, but I must. I reflected a full half-hour
+at Barbados. It was one of those
+heavenly moonlight nights not suitable for
+reflection. Then I wrote a message and sent
+it to the office by one of the colored waiters
+so that the hotel people shouldn&#8217;t read
+it. It said&#8221; (and here she turned her face
+away from me): &#8220;&#8216;<i>Deliveries from the West
+Indies are uncertain and expensive; come
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_248' name='page_248'></a>248</span>
+and get me.</i>&#8217;&mdash;Do you think that was forward?&#8221;</p>
+<p>I laughed irresistibly and a long time.
+&#8220;It certainly was not backward, but it was
+delicious,&#8221; I said at length, wiping the tears
+from my eyes. &#8220;However, he seems as impetuous
+and tempestuous as you, so perhaps
+it doesn&#8217;t matter.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You see, Charlotte, I knew that probably
+he couldn&#8217;t meet this boat to save his
+life, so I was willing to say, &#8216;<i>Come and get
+me</i>,&#8217; just for fun. I hadn&#8217;t the slightest clue
+as to when he would receive my message
+or the sailing dates of steamers from New
+York, everything is so changed in war-times.
+I know only that the time is slipping away,
+and Duke may leave the Shipping Board at
+any moment for the training-camp. I intend
+to have one brief, straightforward talk with
+mother, and declare my purpose. We are
+going to get your Mr. Winthrop to intercede
+for us, too. I shall be of age in March,
+and I don&#8217;t intend to let a mere name stand
+between me and happiness.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_249' name='page_249'></a>249</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;I think you are right, and that your
+mother will finally agree with you; but I
+still don&#8217;t see the need of an unusual toilet
+for to-morrow.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s for the Governor,&#8221; said Dolly, &#8220;and
+one never knows what may happen.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;If a bromidic remark may also be cryptic,
+Dorothea, you have achieved the combination.
+Now I must ask you a direct question,
+for, although I am not your keeper, but
+your friend, I am not disposed to let you do
+anything reckless. Why did you put that
+idea into Duke&#8217;s head&mdash;the idea of meeting
+you in St. Thomas?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I wanted to talk things over before
+seeing mother. I knew I could trust him.
+He has some elderly cousins and a sister-in-law;
+surely, between them, he could
+find somebody to bring along with him;
+and I have you, safest and wisest of Charlottes!
+Duke is one of the legal advisers
+of the Shipping Board. Why shouldn&#8217;t he
+have business in these islands? Besides, it
+is a practical impossibility that he should
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_250' name='page_250'></a>250</span>
+be able to reach St. Thomas on a given
+date.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Then why did you suggest it?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I think, Charlotte, it must have been
+empty-mindedness.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I regard it as a pure lack of self-control.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ve practiced self-control for one whole,
+endless year.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You have practiced filial obedience, I
+grant that. But what good do you expect
+to achieve if Duke does surmount the insurmountable
+and meet you to-morrow?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;What good?&#8221; Dolly almost shrieked the
+question. &#8220;What good, do you ask? You
+callous, cold-hearted Charlotte! Why, four
+heavenly days spent in his society, to be
+sure&mdash;with you and his chaperon having
+a lovely time together somewhere not too
+near.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;And you haven&#8217;t any sneaking idea
+of marrying him in St. Thomas? Because
+I won&#8217;t allow it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No such luck! He wouldn&#8217;t let me,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_251' name='page_251'></a>251</span>
+unless mother&#8217;s attitude has been miraculously
+changed.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, I can only say that you have
+made me very nervous and uncomfortable,
+Dolly,&#8221; and I prepared to leave her cabin
+and cross the narrow space that divided it
+from mine.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Darling Charlotte!&#8221; Here she drew me
+back. &#8220;If you are nervous and uncomfortable,
+it seems that you think there&#8217;s a bare
+chance that Duke will be in St. Thomas.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I know nothing about the possibilities,&#8221;
+I replied. &#8220;He might persuade the Shipping
+Board that he could be of use in this vicinity,
+and, of course, he would have advantages
+not possessed by ordinary tourists.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;If you had had any experience with
+shipping boards, Charlotte, you would
+know that they can only be moved by
+chloroform or dynamite. Besides, Duke
+would never do anything underhanded; he
+is too patriotic; though, of course, he is
+inventive.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Of course! And inventiveness is only
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_252' name='page_252'></a>252</span>
+one of his gifts, while his virtues are those
+of Sir Galahad, King Arthur, Marcus
+Aurelius, Abraham Lincoln, and a few
+others.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Charlotte, I don&#8217;t want to seem harsh,
+but I hope some time you will get a faint
+inkling of what love really is. Your heart
+reminds me of the Rock of Gibraltar!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;One doesn&#8217;t wear the Rock of Gibraltar
+on one&#8217;s sleeve, at all events,&#8221; I remarked.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Do you mean that if you ever did have
+a love-affair you wouldn&#8217;t confide in me,
+when I adore you so, Charlotte?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I mean something of the sort, my child.&#8221;
+At which she made a feint of beating me
+with her little silver hair-brush, but ended
+in kissing my cheek and whispering: &#8220;Good-night!
+You are a darling, even if you have
+no sentiment.&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<p>Morning came. We anchored outside St.
+Croix at five o&#8217;clock; went through medical
+inspection at six, and if there was anything
+the matter with Dolly&#8217;s heart or mine the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_253' name='page_253'></a>253</span>
+physician did not offer any comment. Then
+about ten we approached St. Thomas for
+the second time.</p>
+<p>If the Virgin Islands looked beautiful
+when we first saw them, they had grown
+in beauty during our brief absence, and
+my birthplace, in the shining distance, was
+a very dream of loveliness. We saw its outline
+rising above a rim of azure sea, with
+the mountains of Porto Rico standing out
+to the westward. The great palm groves on
+the shore led the eye upward to the green
+hills and the clouds topping the higher
+peaks. Gayly painted boats began to come
+near the Diana, and naked diving boys,
+slender shapes of brown mahogany, plunged
+into the sea to catch our pennies. Then we
+saw the red roofs of Charlotte Amalia, the
+little park near the landing, and the pink,
+toy-like fortress with the Stars and Stripes
+floating over it.</p>
+<p>Dorothea and I stood near the deck-rail,
+her hand in mine. In her white dress, her
+broad hat wreathed with corn-flowers, and
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_254' name='page_254'></a>254</span>
+a scarlet sunshade, she looked a youthful
+Columbia, so radiant and bewitching that
+for the first time I secretly hoped Marmaduke
+Hogg might triumph over the obstacles
+in the way and come to meet his ladylove,
+although I saw many embarrassing
+and awkward situations arising from such a
+meeting. I could not be jealous of so bright
+and joyous a creature, and anyway my own
+happiness was only a few days distant, if I
+chose to put out my arms and take it.</p>
+<p>There seemed to be a crowd on the dock,
+which was made most unattractive by a
+colossal mountain of coal that concealed
+everything behind it. The Diana made a
+slow approach, but we finally passed the
+coal-heap and came within thirty feet of the
+shore. I could feel Dolly&#8217;s heart beat through
+her pulse that lay under my hand. Then
+suddenly her quick eyes searched the outer
+edge of the crowd and found the shape they
+were looking for.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I think I see him! I think I am going to
+faint, for I didn&#8217;t really expect him! Yes;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_255' name='page_255'></a>255</span>
+I know it is he, though he is wearing summer
+clothes that I never saw before. Look, Charlotte!
+Away back near that grove of cocoanut-trees!
+He&#8217;s with other people&mdash;I knew
+he would find somebody! Give me the
+glasses. There&#8217;s an elderly man in a Panama
+hat, and two ladies, and&mdash;why, Charlotte,
+take the glasses yourself. It can&#8217;t be, but it
+looks like your Winthrop!&#8221;</p>
+<p>My hand trembled so that I could hardly
+hold the glass. I could scarcely believe Dolly&#8217;s
+eyes or my own; but the Diana crept nearer,
+and it was true! Inch by inch the picture
+grew clearer, and then a pathetic surprise
+met my gaze.</p>
+<p>I could see Clive plainly now, and felt that
+he was searching the line of passengers on
+the Diana&#8217;s deck to find me. My heart gave
+a furious leap to think that a man like my
+chief would look for only one woman&#8217;s face
+in that crowd, and regard it, with all its
+blemishes, as a precious thing.</p>
+<p>Duke had separated himself from the
+little group and was swinging his hat to
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_256' name='page_256'></a>256</span>
+Dorothea; but I could not explain why the
+two men were not standing nearer together
+and what was the meaning of the wheeled
+chair, with the nurse&#8217;s head rising above
+the back. The identity of the person in the
+chair was hidden by a tiny black frilled
+parasol with a handle bent in the middle so
+that it could be used for a shield. Did I know
+that little old-fashioned sunshade? I did! It
+was the property of some one whose belongings
+had a certain air of difference from
+those of other people. She lifted it at last, as
+we came close to the dock, and I met Ellen
+Winthrop&#8217;s affectionate, welcoming glance.
+Her eyes swam in unshed tears, and mine
+were so wet I could see only dimly that her
+beautiful hair was a shade whiter, her face
+paler and thinner, that she had aged mysteriously
+in a month, and the hand that was
+holding the parasol trembled like a leaf. She
+had been very ill; there was no doubt of that.
+She had been ordered a voyage, and I felt
+that she had chosen this one because she
+knew Clive&#8217;s wish. That meant she was willing
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_257' name='page_257'></a>257</span>
+to welcome me into the heart of the
+family; perhaps even that she wished to help
+me fit myself to take her own unique place
+in her brother&#8217;s life. Oh, what joy to feel that
+I could not only take freely all that my
+chief wanted to give me, but that I could
+be of real service to her!</p>
+<p>Down the precipitous landing-steps we
+went, Dolly, as usual, well in the front. Clive
+and Duke were at the foot awaiting us, and,
+as we felt a sense of safety in the midst of
+strangers, Dolly flung herself at once into
+Duke&#8217;s arms, while all the male watchers on
+deck or dock gazed at him with envy. Finding
+myself unobserved in this spectacular
+tableau, I could give Clive my own greeting
+as my heart dictated, while I told him that
+his sister&#8217;s presence answered my last doubt.</p>
+<p>When Dolly withdrew from the embrace
+of her adoring swain&mdash;rosy, joyous, unabashed&mdash;she
+adjusted her hat from its
+perilous position on one side of her head,
+and gazed upon Clive and me with unflattering
+astonishment mixed with awe.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_258' name='page_258'></a>258</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;You, too, perfidious Charlotte! You
+needn&#8217;t deny it; I saw you both&mdash;just
+finishing!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Not at all, Miss Valentine,&#8221; laughed
+Clive, putting out his hand to shake hers.
+&#8220;We were, in fact, only just beginning.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;And to think I never suspected, when
+I might have known that you are the only
+man in the world learned enough and good
+enough for Charlotte.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You were too absorbed in your own
+affairs to think about mine, missy,&#8221; I said.
+&#8220;Now, will you be modest and grateful for
+the rest of your life, since you see that my
+Mr. Winthrop has brought your young man
+to St. Thomas in a discreet manner that
+you never could have achieved by yourself?
+Take me to your sister, Clive; I want her to
+know without a moment&#8217;s delay how I appreciate
+her coming with you.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;She has been terribly ill, Charlotte. For
+ten days after you left it was almost hopeless,
+but at length she rallied, and since the
+doctor insisted on a change of climate her
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_259' name='page_259'></a>259</span>
+whole heart was bent on coming here. She
+has long suspected our feeling for each other,
+and you will be such a joy to her as well as
+to me, my dear.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It makes me so happy, so happy!&#8221; I
+faltered, my eyes swimming with tears. &#8220;I
+was so unwilling to take all and give so little&mdash;now
+it will be more!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t go off by yourselves,&#8221; said Dolly.
+&#8220;Be dignified and indifferent, like us. Take
+Mr. Winthrop&#8217;s arm and I&#8217;ll take Duke&#8217;s.&#8221;
+(Here she suited the action to the word.)
+&#8220;There&#8217;s the Governor, expecting us to
+luncheon and not knowing us by sight. He
+won&#8217;t suspect what has happened; but after
+saluting him and asking him to put some
+more plates on the table, we&#8217;ll all walk up
+to Miss Winthrop&#8217;s chair, and you and I will
+say: &#8216;Good-morning, dear lady. Let us introduce
+to you &#8220;our new possessions,&#8221; our spoils
+of travel, our souvenirs of a sea-voyage.&#8217;
+Then Duke and Mr. Winthrop will make a
+profound obeisance, and all will be over.&#8221;</p>
+<p>And so it turned out! Everybody laughed
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_260' name='page_260'></a>260</span>
+and chatted; Dorothea kissed Ellen Winthrop&#8217;s
+hand prettily, coquetted with Clive,
+and began to lay siege to the nurse&#8217;s heart,
+while she riveted the chains by which she
+held Marmaduke Hogg in bondage. She
+was in high spirits, but she was distinctly
+nervous, and whenever she introduced her
+fiancé to one of her fellow voyagers she
+showed a heightened color as she slid quickly
+over his surname.</p>
+<p>Presently Clive withdrew a little distance
+to talk with the Governor&#8217;s secretary, and
+Dorothea caught the captain on his way
+from the ship and entangled him in a
+merry conversation with Miss Winthrop.
+This gave Marmaduke an opportunity to
+take me aside. I suspected that he wanted
+to confide in me that Mrs. Valentine had
+made one last determined refusal to receive
+him as a son-in-law, and that after the next
+few days of sea-voyaging we should meet an
+irate parent at the landing in New York and
+that there would be metaphorical &#8220;wigs on
+the green.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_261' name='page_261'></a>261</span></p>
+<p>I confess in that moment, as I envisaged
+the recalcitrant Dolly locked in her room
+and fed upon bread and water, that I wished
+Mr. Marmaduke Hogg had remained in
+Washington, which is the scene of so many
+battles that one more or less would not be
+obvious on the horizon. On the contrary, his
+first words were a surprise.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Miss Clifford,&#8221; he said, &#8220;no one knows
+what Dolly and I owe to you!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;But what have I done?&#8221; I inquired
+laughingly.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, a thousand things! Taken my part
+gently and kindly with Mrs. Valentine; and
+above all, allowed Dolly to come on this
+journey with you, when she was so utterly
+confused by her mother&#8217;s objections to our
+marriage that she did not know which way
+to turn.&mdash;It&#8217;s rather a big job for a girl to
+decide whether she&#8217;ll break her mother&#8217;s
+heart, or her lover&#8217;s!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Mrs. Valentine has no heart, save in the
+physiological sense,&#8221; I interrupted.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, I have cut the Gordian knot,&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_262' name='page_262'></a>262</span>
+continued Marmaduke. &#8220;I don&#8217;t want Dolly
+to know just at first, but I have set plans
+in motion for changing my name back to
+Forrest!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;But you lose six thousand dollars a year!&#8221;
+I exclaimed.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It doesn&#8217;t matter. I am offered a New
+York partnership when the war is over and
+it won&#8217;t be very long before I make it up.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;And what about your dear old uncle?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;That hurts me, I confess. But I think if
+departed spirits know nothing of our doings,
+it doesn&#8217;t matter, and if they know everything,
+uncle must have kept an eye on Mrs.
+Valentine and will understand.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I never thought of leaving the whole
+matter to &#8216;uncle,&#8217;&#8221; I observed.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m not shifting the responsibility; I&#8217;m
+simply counting on him. I always counted
+on him and he always trusted me. If I could
+get him on a spiritual long-distance telephone,
+he would see that I cannot part an
+only daughter from her only mother.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, I&#8217;ve often thought only children
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_263' name='page_263'></a>263</span>
+were a mistake; they bulk too heavily in the
+foreground. Where there are six, each one
+cannot take up so much room.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Exactly. You see we&#8217;ve got to go to her
+mother&#8217;s to dinner every other Sunday when
+our cook&#8217;s out. I&#8217;ve learned that much
+about matrimony in advance.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Perhaps you won&#8217;t be invited!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, that would be even worse. Besides,
+she has given up her apartment and leased
+a charming house.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Does she think that you and Dolly are to
+live with her?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;If she does she is mistaken, but to do
+her justice I don&#8217;t believe that&#8217;s her idea at
+all. However, she is all settled and awaiting
+Dorothea. The house is going to be a
+surprise.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Dolly will like it; the apartment didn&#8217;t
+suit her taste.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;A pompous butler is installed. I discovered
+all this when I went to call, and
+conscientiously told her I was going to St.
+Thomas with the Winthrops. He is elderly,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_264' name='page_264'></a>264</span>
+of course, as all the middle-aged and young
+butlers are in khaki; and wonderful to relate,
+there is also an aged but well-preserved
+footman. He dwells on the lower floor,
+and communicates with the butler on the
+floor above, where the drawing- and dining-rooms
+are, by means of a speaking-tube.
+The moment the footman approached me
+with his &#8216;What name, sir?&#8217; and bawled
+&#8216;MR. <span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Hogg</span>!&#8217; through the tube, the butler repeating
+it resonantly to the boudoir where
+Mrs. Valentine was sitting; at that moment
+I knew why she had taken the house.
+It was for the speaking-tubes! I have never
+before seen a small house in Washington
+with these annunciators. The butler and
+footman were engaged for the same purpose,
+that of bawling &#8216;<span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Mr. Hogg</span>&#8217; whenever I
+called upon Dolly. After my interview with
+Mrs. Valentine, which was placid, for she
+thanked me coldly for telling her of my proposed
+journey and said she should go herself,
+but imagined that the steamers were
+small and uncomfortable, and the food villainous;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_265' name='page_265'></a>265</span>
+however, we would talk the whole
+matter over in New York and come to some
+decision; she then went to the speaking-tube
+and called, &#8216;Brown! Ask Jenkins to
+show Mr. Hogg out, please!&#8217;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I left the lady and went at once to Clive
+Winthrop for advice and began the process
+of amputating my surname. Perhaps I shall
+not call at the X Street house till the wedding
+is over, and when the footman asks:
+&#8216;What name, sir?&#8217; I shall say: &#8216;My bachelor
+name, as you may remember, was Hogg, but
+I am now married and it is Forrest!&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='PHILIPPA_S_NERVOUS_PROSTRATION' id='PHILIPPA_S_NERVOUS_PROSTRATION'></a>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_275' name='page_275'></a>275</span>
+<h2>PHILIPPA&#8217;S NERVOUS PROSTRATION</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='ce'>
+<p style=' font-size:1.4em;'>A STUDY IN NOBLENESS</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class='ra'>
+<p style=' margin-right:4em;'><i>Stanwood Sanitarium,</i></p>
+<p style=' margin-right:2em;'><i>Mapleton, Pennsylvania</i>,</p>
+<p><i>June</i>,19&mdash;</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class='ce'>
+<p style=' font-size:1.4em;'>FIRST WEEK</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class='ra'>
+<p><i>Monday</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>The door has just closed behind one of the
+most eminent physicians in the State, and
+I am no longer Philippa Armstrong, but a
+case of neurasthenia, an inmate of Room
+Number 17, which has a yellow placard
+over its entrance; a placard announcing that
+no callers are allowed within, save with the
+special permission of Dr. Levi Stanwood.
+At present the placard is the only thing I
+enjoy about the institution; that, at least,
+promises peace; at all events, such peace as
+can be found outside of one&#8217;s own soul.</p>
+<p>I am counseled to have complete rest,
+cheerful surroundings, abstinence from newspapers
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_276' name='page_276'></a>276</span>
+and letters, sound sleep, careful and
+nourishing diet, freedom from anxiety, gentle
+tonics, with electrical and other treatments
+underlined upon a printed list.</p>
+<p>The head physician (who is a genius in
+the way of diagnosis, seeing through the
+human system as if it were plate glass) has
+made a careful study of my symptoms and
+written my Cousin Sarah that all I need is
+six or eight weeks of his care to be quite
+myself again.</p>
+<p>How little they understand us women,
+after all&mdash;poor, blind, unsuspicious doctors!
+My heart-beats, my color, my temperature,
+my pulse, my blood pressure, even my
+tongue, all these have told no tales to the
+scientific eye, and as it was literally impossible
+for Dr. Stanwood to discern my
+malady, it was equally beyond him to suggest
+a remedy. As a matter of fact, all I need
+to make and keep me well is large and
+constant doses of Richard Morton, Esq., of
+Baltimore; but who would confess that to
+a doctor?
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_277' name='page_277'></a>277</span></p>
+<p>Cousin Sarah does not suspect the state
+of things, the gentleman himself is, I trust,
+quite ignorant, and the doctor will waste
+upon me all the wealth of curative agencies
+at his command without effecting the least
+change in my condition.</p>
+<p>Richard Morton is an orphan; so am I.
+He is young, strong, good-looking, clever,
+and poor. I am the first, second, and fifth; as
+to one&#8217;s own beauty and cleverness it is difficult
+to speak impartially.</p>
+<p>I have thought for nearly six months, and
+indeed I am still inclined to think, that Richard
+Morton loves me, and I was equally certain,
+until a few weeks ago, that he was only
+awaiting a suitable opportunity to declare his
+love and ask me to marry him. I had made
+up my mind, whenever he should put the
+important question, to answer him frankly
+and joyously in the affirmative; not because
+he is the handsomest or most brilliant or
+most desirable person in the world, but because
+for sheer lovableness and husbandliness
+he is unsurpassed and unsurpassable.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_278' name='page_278'></a>278</span></p>
+<p>In March Cousin Sarah made a visit to
+Germantown and met there a Mrs. Taunton,
+Richard Morton&#8217;s widowed aunt. When the
+intimacy had progressed sufficiently Mrs.
+Taunton told Cousin Sarah one day that she
+hoped her nephew would eventually marry a
+certain Amy Darling, a near neighbor of hers;
+that Miss Darling&#8217;s father and Richard&#8217;s had
+been friends from boyhood; and that they had
+always planned a marriage between the two
+young people, each an only child.</p>
+<p>Of course, Mr. Darling, who died only this
+winter, did not indulge in any such melodramatic
+or bookish nonsense as setting down
+commands or desires in his will, nor were any
+of his bequests dependent upon them. He did
+talk with his daughter, however, during his
+last illness, and he did leave Richard Morton
+a letter expressing his regard and confidence,
+and saying that as his daughter was entirely
+without relatives he should have felt much
+happier had he seen her married before his
+death. If he had stopped there all would have
+been well, but he went on. He knew, he said,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_279' name='page_279'></a>279</span>
+that Amy was one of the sweetest and most
+attractive girls in the world, and if a mutual
+affection should grow out of her acquaintance
+with Richard he would be glad to know that
+the fortune he had made by his own energy
+might be a basis for the future prosperity
+and business success of his old friend&#8217;s
+son.</p>
+<p>Cousin Sarah came home from Germantown
+quite excited by this romance and
+discussed it with me daily, in exasperating
+unconsciousness that I could feel the least
+distaste for the subject.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It seems almost providential, Philippa,&#8221;
+she said, over her knitting.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Providential for which of them?&#8221; I
+asked, stabbing my sheet of music paper
+with the pen, while I tried in vain to think
+how many eighth notes would fill a measure.</p>
+<p>&#8220;For both; though I was really thinking of
+Mr. Morton. His business is one that peculiarly
+requires capital; then again he has
+many interests in Philadelphia, and there is
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_280' name='page_280'></a>280</span>
+that beautiful place in Germantown with
+house, stable, horses, and gardens all ready
+for him.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;And the girl, too; don&#8217;t forget her,&#8221; I
+responded. &#8220;Though some men don&#8217;t care
+for these ready-to-wear wives; they prefer
+to look about and to choose.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;He would have to look a long distance before
+he found any one to compare with Miss
+Darling, either in beauty or suitableness,&#8221;
+said Cousin Sarah, thereby injecting the first
+drop of poison in my blood and starting me
+on the downward path toward nervous prostration.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Miss Darling is a man&#8217;s woman,&#8221; she
+continued, unconsciously giving me another
+push; &#8220;the type with which neither you nor
+I have anything in common, but which we
+know to be irresistible.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Now Cousin Sarah is fifty-five, thin, angular,
+erect, uncompromising. I love and respect
+her, but do not care to be lumped with
+her in affairs of the heart, at least not for
+thirty years to come; and although I think it
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_281' name='page_281'></a>281</span>
+is disgusting to be labeled a &#8220;man&#8217;s woman&#8221;
+it is insufferable to be told that one is <i>not</i>!</p>
+<p>&#8220;I can see Amy Darling in my mind&#8217;s eye,&#8221;
+I ventured; &#8220;blonde, dimply, fluffy as to
+head, willowy as to figure so as to cling the
+better, blue eyes swimming in unshed tears,
+and a manner so exquisitely feminine that
+she makes all the other women in her vicinity
+appear independent and mannish. But
+not all men care for pets, Cousin Sarah&mdash;some
+of them prefer companions.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;A pet <i>is</i> a companion,&#8221; remarked Cousin
+Sarah casually as she left the room, giving me
+thereby an entirely new and most unpleasant
+thought.</p>
+<p>I have known Richard Morton for many
+months, and although I have met him very
+often at other places, he has been a constant
+visitor at our house. If he has had any resemblance
+to a possible suitor why hasn&#8217;t Cousin
+Sarah discovered it? Is <i>she</i> deaf and blind, or
+have my ears and eyes played me false? Am I
+so undesirable that it would never cross her
+mind that a man might fall in love with me?
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_282' name='page_282'></a>282</span>
+Hardly, for she is well aware that several men
+have expressed their willingness to annex my
+poverty-stricken charms.</p>
+<p>As I look back upon the weeks that followed
+the interview with Cousin Sarah I see
+that Richard was never the same after he
+received Mr. Darling&#8217;s letter. I felt a nameless
+difference. It was not only that I saw
+him less frequently, but that he gave me less
+of himself when I did see him. I, too, was on
+guard and never succeeded in being quite
+natural. I am not so foolish as to give up to
+another girl a man who loves me, simply because
+she is rich. The thought that worries
+me night and day is this: if at the moment he
+only feels for me friendship, ought I to let it
+grow into love when there is another woman
+who could give him with herself everything
+he needs to assure his career? With Philippa
+Armstrong for a wife he will have to work unceasingly,
+and unless fortune is particularly
+kind he may not achieve a large success for
+many years. If he marries Amy Darling (soft,
+silly, spineless little name!) he has house,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_283' name='page_283'></a>283</span>
+lands, and money, all the influence of her
+father&#8217;s former business associates, and has,
+besides, carried out his own father&#8217;s wishes.</p>
+<p>This is considerable; quite enough to make
+a man reflect and vacillate, unless he is so
+deeply in love already that no temptation is
+strong enough to assail him.</p>
+<p>Richard Morton, I know, likes to dance
+with me, sing with me, golf with me, talk
+with me, consult with me about his affairs,
+write letters to me; and more than that, he
+doesn&#8217;t like to have other men usurp these
+privileges; but I am not prepared to say
+that he would pine away if circumstances
+removed me altogether from his path. At any
+rate, these perplexities have been too much
+for my peace of mind, and when Richard
+Morton announced that he had business
+which would keep him in Philadelphia for a
+month I began to feel physically ill and unable
+to bear Cousin Sarah&#8217;s sympathy, her
+curiosity, even at last her proximity. When
+the doctor advised my coming here to this
+quiet, restful place I eagerly embraced the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_284' name='page_284'></a>284</span>
+opportunity simply because I could be alone,
+and because I need not meet Richard until he
+had enjoyed a full month of Amy Darling&#8217;s
+society, either succumbing to its fascination
+or resisting it, as the case might be.</p>
+<p>Would it be nobler of me to give him up
+before he is really mine, knowing that in this
+way I am advancing his worldly interests?
+This is the question that I hope solitude
+will help me to answer, but its complications
+and side-issues are so many that I feel dazed
+by their number and their difficulty. I went
+to sleep last night echoing the old negro&#8217;s
+prayer: &#8220;Thou knowest what&#8217;s about right,
+Lord. Now do it!&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<div class='ra'>
+<p><i>Tuesday</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>8 <span style='font-variant: small-caps'>a.m.</span>&mdash;Nurse gives me an alcohol bath.</p>
+<p>8.30&mdash;She takes my pulse and temperature
+and enters them in the Bedside Record
+Book, afterwards reading me my diet-list. It
+seems I do not belong to the favored class,
+which, to be cured, is stuffed with pleasant
+things to eat; my symptoms demand a simple,
+unexciting bill of fare.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_285' name='page_285'></a>285</span></p>
+<p>9 o&#8217;clock&mdash;Breakfast.</p>
+<div class='ce'>
+<p>Fruit in season.</p>
+<div style='margin-top:1em'></div>
+<p>(This is its only name, but everybody knows it</p>
+<p>by sight.)</p>
+<div style='margin-top:1em'></div>
+<p>Poweretta Grits with Cream.</p>
+<p>Graham Muffins.</p>
+<p>Wheatoata Process Coffee.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>10.30&mdash;Hot fomentations.</p>
+<p>11.15&mdash;Drop of blood extracted from ear
+and subjected to examination.</p>
+<p>11.30&mdash;Glass of Certified Milk.</p>
+<p>12&mdash;Visit from physician.</p>
+<p>1&mdash;Dinner.</p>
+<div class='ce'>
+<p>Barley Broth.</p>
+<p>Lamb Chop&mdash;Hominy or Rice.</p>
+<p>Bread-and-butter Pudding</p>
+<p>Custard Sauce.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>2 to 3&mdash;Silent hour.</p>
+<p>3.30&mdash;Static electricity.</p>
+<p>4.15&mdash;Weight taken.</p>
+<p>4.30&mdash;Cold pack.</p>
+<p>5&mdash;Cup of Predigested Maltese Milk.</p>
+<p>5.30&mdash;Visit from head nurse.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_286' name='page_286'></a>286</span></p>
+<p>6.30&mdash;Supper.</p>
+<div class='ce'>
+<p>Cornetta Mush.</p>
+<p>Poached Egg on Whole-Wheat Toast.</p>
+<p>Sterilized Stewed Apples&mdash;Zephyrettes.</p>
+<p>Cup of Somnolina.</p>
+<p>(A beverage from which everything pleasant and</p>
+<p>harmful has been extracted by a beneficent process.)</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>7.30&mdash;Miss Blossom, the nurse, insists on
+reading to me. It is not a good performance
+but it doesn&#8217;t matter. I know that Dick and
+Amy Darling are just starting for the theater.</p>
+<p>8.30&mdash;Tepid sponge bath.</p>
+<p>9&mdash;Massage.</p>
+<p>9.30&mdash;Glass of peptonized water.</p>
+<p>9.45&mdash;Temperature and pulse taken.</p>
+<p>10&mdash;Lights out.</p>
+<p>Never in all my twenty-five years of life
+have I passed a busier or more exhausting
+day.</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<div class='ra'>
+<p><i>Wednesday</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>Precisely like Tuesday save for some new
+experiences in diet. There was a mild process-drink
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_287' name='page_287'></a>287</span>
+called Cocoatina; Teaette also made
+its appearance. There were dolls&#8217; mattresses
+of shredded excelsior moistened with milk;
+nut salad, and Grahamata mush. I could
+never have supposed so many new cereals
+could be invented.</p>
+<table summary='poetry' style='margin:0 auto'><tr><td>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>There is mush in the evening, mush in the morning,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>Mush when it&#8217;s looked for and mush without warning.</p>
+</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>It is rather like the immortal &#8220;Charge of
+the Light Brigade&#8221;:</p>
+<table summary='poetry' style='margin:0 auto'><tr><td>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>Oats to the right of them,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>Corn to the left of them,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>Wheat to the north of them,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>Grits to the south of them,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>Into the Valley of Mush rode the two hundred.</p>
+</td></tr></table>
+
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<div class='ra'>
+<p><i>Thursday</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>I was allowed to sit on my balcony for an
+hour this morning. This would have been a
+pleasant change had I not heartily disliked at
+first sight my next-door neighbor who was
+sitting on the adjoining balcony. At noon she
+sent me a bunch of pansies and her card:
+Mrs. Grosvenor Chittenden-Ffollette.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_288' name='page_288'></a>288</span></p>
+<p>Among fifty or sixty attendants there are
+always a few who gossip in spite of repeated
+warnings from the authorities. Sometimes it is
+a young nurse, sometimes a masseuse, a manicure
+or a shampooer, but there are always
+those who retail the news, mostly innocent
+news, of an institution like this. Cold-packing,
+or rubbing, or spraying, or electrifying, or
+brushing, or polishing&mdash;all these operations
+open the flood-gates of speech and no damming
+process is effectual. Miss Ph&oelig;be Blossom
+is the herald who proclaims tidings of
+various kinds in my room, and there is also a
+neophyte in the electricity department who
+is always full of information and quite unable
+to retain it. It would be almost more than human
+to ask them to be silent when they are
+the only links with the world outside. A system
+reduced to nothingness by a supper of
+Wheatoata Coffee, Cracker-dust Croquettes,
+Cosmos with milk, and a choice of Cerealina,
+Nuttetta, Proteinetta, or Glucosa is in no
+fit state to resist gossip.</p>
+<p>It seems that Mrs. Chittenden-Ffollette
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_289' name='page_289'></a>289</span>
+is more than a mere woman&mdash;she is a remarkable
+&#8220;case,&#8221; and has proved a worldwide
+advertisement for this sanitarium. Dr.
+Stanwood has almost effected a cure; her disease
+has had to be named and her symptoms
+have been written up in all the medical journals.
+I don&#8217;t know what sort of person she
+was before she became a case, but she is now
+a greater tyrant than Caligula or Catherine
+of Russia. As to her disease, she has those
+things that she ought not to have, and she
+has not those things that she ought to have,
+and there is no health in her; or at least there
+was not until she came here a year ago. Now
+she is strong enough to perambulate in the
+corridor a little while each morning or be
+wheeled along the board-walk in the afternoon,
+and when she hears that some of the
+other patients are suffering, she sneers at
+their modest, uninteresting ailments and
+glances in at their doors with half-disguised
+contempt. You know the expression of the
+prize dog who is borne from the show hung
+with medals and ribbons&mdash;how he gazes
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_290' name='page_290'></a>290</span>
+on the little mongrel curs that gather with
+the crowd in the streets?</p>
+<p>Her name, Chittenden-Ffollette, is of as
+vital importance as her medical-journal malady.
+When the third floor is in dire confusion;
+when Mrs. Parks has hysterics and Miss
+Simmons is crying for her mother, and Mrs.
+Bell&#8217;s hot-water bottle has burst in the bed,
+and Miss Phipps has discovered that the undergraduate
+has bandaged the wrong ankle,
+Miss Blossom sometimes becomes flustered
+and hurried and calls her patient Mrs. Follett,
+whereupon she says, &#8220;<i>Chittenden</i>-Ffoll<i>ette,
+if</i> you please!&#8221;</p>
+<p>If by any chance she sees the Chittenden-Ffollette
+without the hyphen in the Nurses&#8217;
+Bedside Record Book or scribbled on the
+morning paper she doesn&#8217;t need any stimulant
+the rest of the day. The omission of the
+hyphen sends up her pulse and temperature
+to the required point for several hours,
+though there is always a reaction afterward.
+I&#8217;ve told Dr. Levi that I should name one
+of her complaints hyphenitis. The occasional
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_291' name='page_291'></a>291</span>
+operation performed on the hyphen by Miss
+Blossom, or the young lady at the stationery
+counter, might be called hyphenotomy.
+Everybody detests Mrs. Chittenden-Ffollette,
+but as the banner patient of the sanitarium
+she must be treated with respectful
+consideration. All America&#8217;s most skillful
+physicians have struggled with her organism.
+They have tried to get her symptoms into
+line, so to speak, so as to deduce some theory
+from the grand array of phenomena, but
+the symptoms courteously decline to point
+in any one direction. When the doctors get
+seven eighths of them in satisfactory relation
+there are always two or three that stay out
+and sulk, refusing to collaborate in any sort of
+harmony. They act precisely like an obstinate
+jury, in that they calmly refuse to agree,
+and then Mrs. Chittenden-Ffollette appeals
+to a higher court where flaws in the testimony
+are always found, judgment is reversed,
+and a new trial ordered. The greatest surgeons
+in Europe have left the bedsides of
+crowned heads to ponder over her inscrutable
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_292' name='page_292'></a>292</span>
+mysteries, and have returned to their
+sovereigns crushed and humbled. All this attention
+would have upset a stronger character
+than hers, and now that she is in a fair
+way to recover, her pride will have its inevitable
+fall. Though much more agreeable and
+docile than when she entered, she is in uniformly
+low spirits. The truth is, she liked
+being an unsolved mystery and she is a good
+deal nettled at being found at last both soluble
+and curable&mdash;obliged to live, like an
+ex-president, on the glories of the past.</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<div class='ra'>
+<p><i>Friday</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>Buckle, in his &#8220;History of Civilization,&#8221;
+claims that men and women are divided into
+three classes. The first and lowest talks of
+persons, the second of things, and the third
+and highest, of ideas. I should divide the human
+race into four, instead of three classes,
+and name as the lowest those persons who
+discuss their symptoms. The patients here
+are counseled not to do it, so the vice is reduced
+to a minimum, being practiced, say,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_293' name='page_293'></a>293</span>
+not more than three out of the fourteen waking
+hours.</p>
+<p>Swinging in a hammock in a shady nook
+this afternoon the conversation that floated
+to me under my distant tree was somewhat
+after this fashion.</p>
+<p><i>Mrs. A.</i> &#8220;Once I had neurasthenia. For
+three months I couldn&#8217;t be moved in bed,
+and for nine weeks I couldn&#8217;t turn my head
+on the pillow.&#8221;</p>
+<div class='la'>
+<p><i>Mrs. B.</i> } &#8220;Mercy!&#8221;</p>
+<p><i>Mrs. C.</i> } &#8220;Oh, Mrs. A.!&#8221;</p>
+<p><i>Mrs. D.</i> } &#8220;Good gracious!&#8221;</p>
+</div>
+
+<p><i>Mrs. E.</i> &#8220;Cerebro-spinal meningitis is
+worse than neurasthenia. I had it four years
+ago, and the doctor said he&#8217;d never seen a
+woman live that was as ill as I was. One
+night my temperature was 167.&#8221;</p>
+<div class='la'>
+<p><i>Mrs. C.</i> } &#8220;Goodness!&#8221;</p>
+<p><i>Mrs. B.</i> } &#8220;That&#8217;s pretty high!&#8221;</p>
+<p><i>Mrs. A.</i> } &#8220;Are you sure?&#8221;</p>
+</div>
+
+<p><i>Mrs. E.</i> &#8220;Yes, I&#8217;m perfectly sure, or at
+least I think I am; I am seldom wrong on figures.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_294' name='page_294'></a>294</span></p>
+<p><i>Mrs. A.</i> &#8220;I asked, because I&#8217;ve noticed
+here that the thermometers register only 110,
+and I wondered how they measured the temperature
+when it rose above that point.&#8221;</p>
+<p><i>Mrs. E. (huffily).</i> &#8220;Probably they have
+extra long thermometers for extreme cases.&#8221;</p>
+<p><i>Mrs. F.</i> &#8220;I am glad that in this sanitarium
+they take the temperature by tucking the
+barometer-thing under the arm. My doctor
+at home always puts it under the tongue, and
+it is a perfect nuisance. He never gets it well
+placed but that I think of something I want
+to say. Then, of course, I have to keep still
+for three minutes, which seem three hundred,
+and by that time I have either forgotten it or
+changed my mind, so there I am!&#8221;</p>
+<p><i>Mrs. G.</i> &#8220;Just after my youngest child was
+three years old&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p><i>Mrs. F. (interrupting).</i> &#8220;I was going to say,
+when Mrs. E. spoke about the barometer,
+that after I was engaged to Mr. F. I had a
+dreadful attack of brain fever. I was ill in bed
+three months and they couldn&#8217;t touch a
+brush to my hair for nine days.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_295' name='page_295'></a>295</span></p>
+<div class='la'>
+<p><i>Mrs. D.</i> } &#8220;Horrors!&#8221;</p>
+<p><i>Mrs. E.</i> } &#8220;Dreadful!&#8221;</p>
+<p><i>Mrs. C.</i> } &#8220;Heavens!&#8221;</p>
+</div>
+
+<p><i>Mrs. G. (bravely).</i> &#8220;Just after my youngest
+child was three&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p><i>Mrs. X.</i> &#8220;A man patient was brought on
+to our floor this morning.&#8221;</p>
+<p><i>Mrs. S.</i> &#8220;<i>Our</i> floor? I wish they <i>would</i> have
+separate corridors for male patients.&#8221;</p>
+<p><i>Mrs. X.</i> &#8220;This gentleman is an old friend
+of Dr. Levi&#8217;s. His wife has been here four
+weeks, and now he&#8217;s been taken ill, so they&#8217;ve
+put him next her on the first floor.&#8221;</p>
+<p><i>Mrs. S.</i> &#8220;I don&#8217;t care, I hate to have him
+near us.&#8221;</p>
+<p><i>Mrs. B.</i> &#8220;Why? He&#8217;s perfectly harmless;
+he is too ill to move.&#8221;</p>
+<p><i>Mrs. C.</i> &#8220;I&#8217;m sure I wish he could! Anything
+to relieve this hideous dullness. What&#8217;s
+the matter with him, I wonder!&#8221;</p>
+<p><i>Mrs. D.</i> &#8220;I&#8217;ll ask Miss Oaks when I have
+my hot fomentations this afternoon; she
+knows everything and she&#8217;s as generous as a
+prince with her knowledge.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_296' name='page_296'></a>296</span></p>
+<p><i>Mrs. G. (patiently).</i> &#8220;Just after my youngest
+child was&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>A nurse passes through the grove, bearing
+a sterilized tray with peptonized preparations
+on it.</p>
+<p><i>Mrs. Y. (calling her).</i> &#8220;Nurse! what&#8217;s the
+matter with the new man-patient on our
+floor?&#8221;</p>
+<p><i>Nurse (discreetly).</i> &#8220;I don&#8217;t know, Mrs. Y.&#8221;</p>
+<p><i>Mrs. X. (as the nurse vanishes).</i> &#8220;She does,
+but she&#8217;s a stiff thing! Anyway, I heard the
+attendants whispering about him in the corridor
+before breakfast. Something&mdash;I think
+it&#8217;s an organ&mdash;is floating about in him.&#8221;</p>
+<p><i>All.</i> &#8220;<i>Floating?</i> What kind of an organ?
+Horrors!&#8221;</p>
+<p><i>Mrs. X.</i> &#8220;I couldn&#8217;t understand exactly.
+You know people always roar if they have
+nothing particular to say, but if it is interesting
+they whisper. I distinctly heard the
+word &#8216;<i>floating</i>.&#8217; I don&#8217;t know whether it&#8217;s one
+of his regular organs, or something he swallowed
+accidentally.&#8221;</p>
+<p><i>Mrs. C. (plaintively).</i> &#8220;Doctors are never
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_297' name='page_297'></a>297</span>
+satisfied. If anything floats they want to get
+it stationary, and if it&#8217;s stationary they want
+to cut it loose.&#8221;</p>
+<p><i>Mrs. G.</i> &#8220;<i>Just after my youngest child</i>&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p><i>Mrs. B.</i> &#8220;They say Mrs. H. is going to
+leave to-morrow; she doesn&#8217;t like the food or
+the service.&#8221;</p>
+<p><i>Mrs. E.</i> &#8220;Goodness, she has all the service
+there is on our floor! Nobody else gets
+a chance! She spends her whole silent hour
+pushing the electric button.&#8221;</p>
+<p><i>Mrs. D.</i> &#8220;Yes, Miss Oaks declares she
+&#8216;lays&#8217; on it. She says that the head nurse
+told Mrs. H. she must ring less frequently,
+or the bell would be removed. Miss Oaks says
+the patients that pay the smallest rates always
+ring the bells most. It isn&#8217;t fair that a
+thirty-dollar patient should annoy a whole
+row of eighty-dollar ones and prevent their
+bells from being answered.&#8221;</p>
+<p><i>Mrs. X.</i> &#8220;There&#8217;s nothing made out of
+Mrs. H. at thirty dollars a week. She was as
+contented as possible last night, but this
+morning she wanted her bed in the other
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_298' name='page_298'></a>298</span>
+corner, awnings put on the windows, and the
+bureau changed for a chiffonier. Come, we
+must all go in for treatment&mdash;it wants five
+minutes of four.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Mrs. G., in despair, as she sees the occupants
+of the hammocks dispersing, almost
+shrieks: &#8220;<span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Just after my youngest</span>&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>But the ladies, for some reason or other, do
+not care to hear anything about Mrs. G.&#8217;s
+youngest, and she is obliged to seek another
+audience.</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<div class='ra'>
+<p><i>Saturday</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>The doctor found me &#8220;over-treated&#8221; this
+morning and advised a day of quiet, with a
+couple of hours on the roof-garden or under
+the trees.</p>
+<p>I have heard at various times sighs of weariness
+or discontent or pain issuing from the
+room opposite mine, and this afternoon when
+Miss Blossom had gone into Number 19 to sit
+with the haughty Mrs. Chittenden-Ffollette
+I stole across the corridor and glanced in at
+the half-open door of Number 18.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_299' name='page_299'></a>299</span></p>
+<p>The quaintest girl raised herself from a
+mound of sofa-pillows and exclaimed: &#8220;Why,
+you beautiful thing! Are you Number 17?
+I didn&#8217;t know you looked like that!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s very kind of you,&#8221; I answered,
+blushing at this outspoken greeting; &#8220;but I
+am not beautiful in the least; it is because
+you do not expect much from a person who
+has just crept out of bed. I don&#8217;t look any
+better when I am dressed for a party.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You don&#8217;t need to,&#8221; she said. &#8220;Now get
+on my bed and cuddle under the afghan and
+we&#8217;ll talk till Miss Blossom comes back.
+Won&#8217;t she beat you for being out of your
+room? Why are you here? You haven&#8217;t the
+least resemblance to a rest cure! What is the
+matter with you?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Backache, sideache, shoulderache, headache,
+sensation of handcuffs on wrists, balls
+and chains on ankles, lack of appetite, and
+insomnia.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Is that all? Haven&#8217;t you any disease?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I believe not,&#8221; I answered humbly, &#8220;but
+the effect is the same as if I had. Why are you
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_300' name='page_300'></a>300</span>
+here?&#8221; I asked in return, as I looked admiringly
+at her shining brown hair, plump, rosy
+cheeks, and dancing eyes.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I came here, so to speak, in response to
+an ideal; not my ideal&mdash;I never have any&mdash;but
+Laura Simonds&#8217;s. She is my dearest
+friend and one of the noblest girls you ever
+knew. She said the separation from the world
+would do us both good, and so it might if she
+could have stayed to keep me company. Now
+she has the world and I have the separation.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;She isn&#8217;t here, then?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, worse luck! She is always working
+and planning for the good of others, but she
+is constantly meeting with ingratitude and
+misunderstanding. She had just brought me
+here when she was telegraphed for to turn
+about and go home. You see she had sent two
+ailing slum children to be taken care of at her
+house, and it proved to be scarlet fever,
+and, of course, her stepmother took it the
+first thing&mdash;she&#8217;s a hateful person and takes
+everything she can get&mdash;and then the cook
+followed suit. Now they blame Laura and
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_301' name='page_301'></a>301</span>
+she has to find trained nurses and settle
+everything before she comes back to me.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Then you&#8217;re not an invalid? I thought
+you were in pain and couldn&#8217;t reach the bell.
+That&#8217;s the reason I looked in.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, dear, no, I was only yawning! I came
+for what Laura calls the healing influence of
+solitude, but Laura thought as the place was
+so expensive, and treatment was included,
+we&#8217;d better take Turkish baths, massage,
+and electricity, they&#8217;re so good for the complexion.
+I have a little table to myself in
+the convalescents&#8217; dining-room and haven&#8217;t
+made any acquaintances. I can&#8217;t stand their
+sweetbread complexions and their double
+chins. The patients are all so fat they might
+sing Isaac Watts&#8217; hymn in unison: &#8216;Much of
+my time has run to waist.&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;It is not an inspiring assemblage,&#8221; I
+agreed, &#8220;though I haven&#8217;t seen them all
+together, as you have.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;And they think of nothing but themselves,
+which is exactly what I want to think
+about&mdash;myself, I mean. There&#8217;s one charming
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_302' name='page_302'></a>302</span>
+girl on this floor. Something&#8217;s the matter
+with her solar plexus and they won&#8217;t allow
+her to talk, so we have had some nice conversations
+in the silent hour. They&#8217;ve told
+me now I mustn&#8217;t call again; it seems that I
+was too exciting. Tell me something about
+yourself, Vashti&mdash;I am sure that&#8217;s your
+name, or Semiramis or Zenobia or Judith,
+and if it isn&#8217;t one or another of those I don&#8217;t
+want to hear what it is, for you wouldn&#8217;t
+look like it.&#8221;</p>
+<p>Just here a page brought in a letter which
+she glanced through with an &#8220;Excuse me,
+please.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, dear! Now Laura can&#8217;t come to-morrow!
+She is certainly the most unfortunate
+being in the universe. She became very much
+interested in a deaf man that she met in her
+settlement work, and so as to give the poor
+thing employment she appointed him Superintendent
+of the Working Boys&#8217; Club. Now
+the working boys refuse to play with him and
+the directors have had a meeting asking
+Laura to remove him at once. I do think they
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_303' name='page_303'></a>303</span>
+might have endured him one season when
+I gave him a twenty-dollar ear-trumpet,
+but some people are utterly unreasonable;
+and here I am, in need of advice every moment,
+and Laura kept in the city!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Haven&#8217;t you any family?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Not a soul; have you?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No one but a cousin.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I believe nobody nice and interesting
+has a family nowadays. Laura has no one
+but an uncongenial stepmother, and that
+is the reason we are so intimate. I am so
+giddy and frivolous, and Laura is so noble
+and self-sacrificing that I try to form myself
+on her now and then, when I&#8217;m not too
+busy.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You live with her, do you?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, no! I don&#8217;t live anywhere in particular.
+Of course I have a house and a lady
+housekeeper, but she doesn&#8217;t count. I&#8217;ve
+been staying mostly with a Mrs. Beckett, an
+old friend of my mother&#8217;s. She is the dearest
+and loveliest woman in the world and I can&#8217;t
+bear to be away from her.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_304' name='page_304'></a>304</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Why can&#8217;t she join forces with you if you
+are so alone in the world?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Because there&#8217;s a son.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Is he too young, or too old, to join
+forces?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, he&#8217;s just right, and he&#8217;d be only too
+glad to join forces, or anything else that had
+me in it, but he mustn&#8217;t, and that&#8217;s the reason
+Laura made me come here!&#8221; And with
+this she punched the sofa-pillows rebelliously,
+looking more like an enraged Angora kitten
+than anything else.</p>
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s your hour for cold spray,&#8221; said Jimmy,
+the page-boy, peeping in at the crack of
+the door.</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ll come!&#8221; she responded unwillingly.
+&#8220;Now do steal in again,&#8221; she whispered,
+turning to me, &#8220;for I must talk to somebody,
+and if Laura could see you I know she would
+think you safer than anybody here.&#8221;</p>
+<p>That afternoon, as I swung in my hammock
+in the grove below the sanitarium, I
+looked up at its three stories of height and
+its rows upon rows of windows, and wondered
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_305' name='page_305'></a>305</span>
+how many cases of neurasthenia under its roof
+were traceable to a conflict between love and
+conscience. &#8220;I begin to have an interest in
+that chatterbox neighbor of mine,&#8221; I thought
+drowsily, &#8220;and that, after vowing not to make
+an acquaintance in this place. Love will be a
+side dish, not the roast, in her bill of fare, if
+I am any judge of character, and why does
+her Laura attempt to stem the natural tide
+of events? It is almost wicked of the Fates
+to give such a featherhead any problems to
+solve; she ought to have her what&#8217;s-his-name,
+Beckett, if she wants him, particularly if he
+wants her. As for the noble Laura, I long to
+make her acquaintance. I can almost hear
+the uncongenial stepmother, the feverish
+cook, and the infuriated directors, clamoring
+for a providence to remove her from their
+field of vision, and substitute some thoroughly
+practical and ignoble person in her
+stead.&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<div class='ra'>
+<p><i>Sunday</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>I was very happy all the morning; so happy
+that I forgot my tonics, massage, and sedative
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_306' name='page_306'></a>306</span>
+tablets; but the doctor called at noon
+and spoke of the wonderful way in which my
+system responded to his remedies, so I said
+nothing.</p>
+<p>Cousin Sarah forwarded me a letter from
+Richard Morton, who is superintending some
+surveying near a small town in Pennsylvania.
+He knows that I am not well and away from
+home on a visit to the country, but, of course,
+he is not aware of my exact whereabouts. It
+was just one of his gay, friendly letters, with
+an undertone of something warmer in it.
+Among other things he said:</p>
+<div class='blockquot'>
+<p>How weak a thing is man! Now that you are so
+far away and I am exiled in a village where there
+is but one post a day I suffer pangs of hunger for
+a word from you. So far the one daily mail would
+have been all too ample for your desires, since
+you have not written a word as yet; but there is
+always the hope! I have been speculating to-night
+upon the frightful risks and dangers surrounding
+the man who is waiting for a letter. It seems to
+me the very best postal service is inadequate to
+take care of a letter from you to me! Think of the
+uncertainties and perils to which it is exposed in
+.pm +1
+transit! You give it to a maid to drop in a pillar
+post-box, but she may forget and leave it in her
+pocket, or she may lose it. Or say she drops it in;
+it must be removed from the box by an ordinary
+human being who has no conception of the issues
+involved in the rigid performance of this particular
+duty. The letter is then taken to the branch
+office of your section, then to the general post, and
+then to the railway, where new dangers menace
+its precious existence. The train may be robbed;
+and if a single letter is stolen it will be yours to
+me. No man alive could resist a letter of yours
+after he had once read one.</p>
+</div>
+<p>Is there not a note of tenderness here, a
+note that has crept in only during the last
+few months? But what if there is? It occurred
+to me after dinner that the question of his
+feeling for me is not the only, nor even the
+principal one to be considered. The point
+under advisement is, shall I allow him to love
+me when there is something better in store
+for him?</p>
+<p>Miss Blossom had scarcely left my room
+this evening when I heard a pattering step
+and a hurried tap on my door. On my saying
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_307' name='page_307'></a>307</span>
+&#8220;Come,&#8221; my opposite neighbor slipped in
+and turned the key in the lock. It was an
+unconventional and amusing performance,
+but I didn&#8217;t mind. Somehow one couldn&#8217;t
+mind anything with such a spoiled baby.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Good-evening, Zuleika!&#8221; she said. &#8220;No,
+you needn&#8217;t smile and raise your finger at me
+as if you were dying to tell me your name is
+Abigail! Miss Blossom has gone for the night,
+hasn&#8217;t she? I thought so. You know it&#8217;s the
+nurses&#8217; ball this evening, and there&#8217;s only
+one attendant on duty in each corridor from
+now to half-past nine. May I have this big
+chair by the window? I am so bored with this
+place that it excites me even to think how
+stupid it is. I almost wish I had a symptom
+or two, just by way of sensation. Did you
+have Somnolina for supper? I did, and some
+time I shall make a scene in the dining-room
+when I watch the hundred and fifty dyspeptics
+simultaneously lifting cups of Teaette
+or Somnolina to their parched lips.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You ought to be ashamed,&#8221; I chided,
+&#8220;when you know almost every one who is
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_308' name='page_308'></a>308</span>
+here needs to be put upon a diet. You wouldn&#8217;t
+expect champagne, terrapin, and canvasback
+ducks?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I know it; don&#8217;t scold, it makes you look
+like Cassandra. Isn&#8217;t the moonlight enchanting,
+and if this weren&#8217;t a health resort
+wouldn&#8217;t it be a heaven upon earth?&#8221;</p>
+<p>The broad, unscreened windows were wide
+open and vines of woodbine or honeysuckle
+framed them on every side. A lake shone like
+a silver mirror in the distant landscape and
+the elms and maples and chestnuts swayed
+in the summer breeze. Little groups chatted
+on the broad piazzas, and here and there on
+a rustic bench in the moonlight sat a man
+and a woman&mdash;two minds with but a single
+thought, and that thought his or her own solar
+plexus.</p>
+<p>It was an hour for confidences, and I remember
+that my troubled heart cried out
+for a strong, tried friendship on which to
+draw for counsel and sympathy. What wonder,
+then, that the Angora kitten, deprived
+of her Laura, emptied her silky little head
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_309' name='page_309'></a>309</span>
+of some of its worries, divining that I was
+older and graver and perhaps would find her
+lost ball and give it to her to play with
+again.</p>
+<p>&#8220;There&#8217;s no telling when Laura will be
+here!&#8221; she exclaimed despairingly. &#8220;When
+there is any duty within a thousand miles she
+stays to perform it. Mrs. Beckett has poisoned
+herself with mercury and Laura thinks she
+ought to go and nurse her for a day or two&mdash;as
+if Mrs. Beckett hadn&#8217;t six maids and
+twenty thousand a year to spend in nurses!
+Laura can&#8217;t bear Tom, his incurable levity
+gets on her nerves, and why she wants to martyr
+herself by staying in the house with him
+when I&#8217;d be only too glad to go, passes my
+comprehension!&#8221;</p>
+<p>(I can&#8217;t explain it, but at this juncture I
+seemed to have visions of Laura flirting with
+the Beckett during the Kitten&#8217;s absence.)</p>
+<p>&#8220;Sometimes,&#8221; she continued, rippling
+along as if natural speech had been denied
+her for hours, &#8220;sometimes I wish I hadn&#8217;t
+selected such a superior being for a bosom
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_310' name='page_310'></a>310</span>
+friend, and then again I despise myself for
+harboring such a mean feeling. I&#8217;m forever
+trying to climb, and Laura is continually
+trying to drag me to her level, but I suppose
+I don&#8217;t belong there, and that&#8217;s the reason
+I keep slipping off and sliding down. At this
+minute, if she&#8217;d let me be the groveling little
+earthworm I am by nature, I could marry
+Tom Beckett and be as happy as the day is
+long.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;What is the matter?&#8221; I asked sympathetically,
+though rather ashamed to drop
+a plummet into so shallow a brook. &#8220;If you
+love his mother so dearly, and love him too,
+and are sure of his affection, why don&#8217;t you
+marry him? Isn&#8217;t he suitable?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes; he&#8217;s almost too suitable; that&#8217;s
+one of the lions in the way. His family is good,
+he is as handsome as Apollo, and he has a
+much larger income than mine, but you see
+there&#8217;s another man.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Another man! You didn&#8217;t mention him
+yesterday.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Didn&#8217;t I? How funny! But after all it was
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_311' name='page_311'></a>311</span>
+our very first interview, and even silly I have
+my reserves.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Do you love them both equally?&#8221; I
+asked, trying to keep the note of sarcasm
+out of my voice.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Certainly not. I care nothing about anybody
+but Tom Beckett, but Laura says that
+such a marriage will simply mean a life of
+self-indulgent luxury, idleness, and pleasure.
+She says marriage is something loftier and
+nobler than pleasing one&#8217;s self; that it ought
+to mean growth and development both to
+the man and the woman. She says that I
+should have no influence on Tom, and that
+I need somebody strong and serious to
+steady me. She says Tom and I would only
+frisk through life and leave the world no better
+or wiser than we found it. She even says&#8221;
+(and here she turned her face to the honeysuckles)&mdash;&#8220;I
+don&#8217;t like to repeat it, but
+Laura is so advanced she makes my embarrassment
+seem simply idiotic&mdash;she even
+says that the children of such a union would
+be incurably light-minded and trivial; and
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_312' name='page_312'></a>312</span>
+oh, Zuleika, if one isn&#8217;t a bit advanced in
+any way, doesn&#8217;t it seem hard to keep from
+marrying somebody you love just for the
+good of a few frivolous children you&#8217;ve never
+seen in your life?&#8221;</p>
+<p>It was neither the place, the hour, nor the
+subject for laughter, but I forgot my neurasthenia
+and gave way to a burst of wholehearted
+mirth! Every second of time seemed
+to increase the unconscious humor of her
+point of view, and only fear of the nurse on
+duty in the corridor enabled me to control
+myself at all.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Have I been funny?&#8221; she asked delightedly,
+as she drew her head in the window.
+&#8220;I never can see my own jokes, but I&#8217;m
+glad to have amused you, only I did hope
+for a little sympathy. Everybody can&#8217;t be
+Zenobias and Vashtis and Lauras, superior
+to common weaknesses!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I do, I do sympathize,&#8221; I said, wiping
+the tears of merriment from my eyes, &#8220;and
+I agree with you much more than with
+Laura. Now the &#8216;other man&#8217; is, I suppose,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_313' name='page_313'></a>313</span>
+all that is grave and reverend&mdash;a complete
+contrast to the too trivial Thomas?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, and he&#8217;s as good as good can be;
+trustworthy, talented, honorable, everything;
+you know the kind? I never get on
+with them.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Does he love you?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Laura thinks he does, but I&#8217;ve no reason
+to suppose so. We&#8217;ve always been friends,
+while Tom Beckett and I squabble and make
+up twice a week; but anyway, even if he
+doesn&#8217;t adore me in Tom&#8217;s silly way, Laura
+says I ought not to mind. She says it would
+be noble of me to help him to a splendid and
+prosperous career, and thinks I ought to remember
+how much my father wanted him
+for a son-in-law&mdash;you see he is awfully poor.&#8221;</p>
+<p>At this coupling of fathers and poverty a
+sudden light blazed in upon my consciousness
+and I sat bolt upright among the sofa-pillows.
+How could I have guessed that the
+love-affairs of this rosy-cheeked dumpling,
+the casual acquaintance of a rest-cure, could
+have any connection with my own? If she
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_314' name='page_314'></a>314</span>
+hadn&#8217;t been the sort of person who confides
+at first sight we should have learned each
+other&#8217;s names at the beginning and been on
+guard. The truth is, I had thought of no one
+but Tom Beckett in her confessions; the personality
+of &#8220;the other man&#8221; had stolen into
+the chronicle so late in the day that I had
+taken no interest in him.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Are you Amy Darling?&#8221; I asked her
+plump.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, but how mean of you to pump Blossom!
+I wanted to go on thinking of you as
+Zuleika and have you call me something
+imaginary and romantic.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I am Philippa Armstrong. Did you ever
+hear the name?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, but it&#8217;s all right; it looks like you,
+and it&#8217;s nearly as pretty as Zenobia. Now if
+Tom Beckett had only chosen you and I
+could have obliged Laura by falling in love
+with&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t mention the other man&#8217;s name!&#8221;
+I cried hastily; &#8220;it just comes to me that I
+may have met him.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_315' name='page_315'></a>315</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Met Dick Morton?&#8221;</p>
+<p>It was true then! Here was the girl whom
+Richard ought, for his worldly good, to
+marry, and she was not a woman at all, only
+an Angora kitten, and moreover a kitten in
+love with Tom Beckett!</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, I have met him, but I only this moment
+suspected it!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Have you known him long?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Less than a year.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;That settles it!&#8221; she cried, leaping to her
+feet excitedly. &#8220;If Dick Morton has known
+you for a year he won&#8217;t want me and I can
+marry Tom! Goody, goody, goody!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Stuff and nonsense!&#8221; I said quickly.
+&#8220;Richard Morton is only a very dear
+friend.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Stuff and nonsense yourself! No man
+with an eye in his head could be a dear friend
+to you! And Dick Morton is the hero
+sort who doesn&#8217;t care for Dottie Dimples,
+but worships Vashtis and Zuleika-Zenobias.
+Have you any money?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Not a penny!&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_316' name='page_316'></a>316</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, dear! I might have known you
+wouldn&#8217;t have, with that hair and those eyes.
+Never mind! I&#8217;m certain that Dick would
+rather have a pauper goddess than a rich
+little earthworm.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You mustn&#8217;t talk any more about the
+matter,&#8221; I said with as much dignity as I
+could muster in the midst of her laughter-provoking
+nonsense, which made the most
+sacred subjects seem a natural matter of
+discussion. &#8220;I know through Mrs. Taunton
+all about the circumstances&mdash;your father&#8217;s
+wishes and his letter to Richard. If you can
+possibly love him you must accept him, advance
+his fortunes, and do your duty by
+your father. I am determined to be as noble
+as Laura Simonds in this matter and I refuse
+to be a stumbling-block!&#8221;</p>
+<p>The girl fell limply into the lounging-chair.</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh,&#8221; she said despondently, &#8220;if <i>you</i> are
+going to be noble, too, there&#8217;s no use discussing
+the matter. What an example we
+shall be for the heathen nations! You will
+be noble and give up Dick Morton; I shall
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_317' name='page_317'></a>317</span>
+be noble and marry him; and be noble at
+the same time in giving up Tom; Tom will be
+noble in suffering me to marry anybody but
+himself; Dick will be noble in obliging my
+father and marrying me instead of you; Laura
+is always noble! We could use up a whole
+order of nobility among us! And it is all so
+silly! Do you suppose my dear father would
+want four of us to be unhappy, his own
+daughter among them? It&#8217;s really only Laura
+who matters, and if you had any ingenuity
+you could pacify her and persuade her that
+it is my duty for once to follow my ignoble
+inclinations. I am afraid of her, but <i>you</i>
+needn&#8217;t be! You could blaze and flash and
+tower, if you only would, and save us all!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;You seem to forget,&#8221; I urged, &#8220;that Mr.
+Morton has never asked me to marry him.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;That&#8217;s nothing; he has probably been
+thinking how he could get me nicely disposed
+of, or how he could earn a roof under which
+he could ask you to step in wet weather. He&#8217;s
+been too stupid and moody and dull this last
+winter for any use, and now I understand
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_318' name='page_318'></a>318</span>
+him. Has he ever seen you like this with your
+Rebecca-at-the-well hair down?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Certainly not!&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;I thought so; or he&#8217;d have forgotten the
+necessary roof!&mdash;Come in!&mdash;Goodness!
+it&#8217;s your room and I locked the door! Do excuse
+me; I&#8217;ll open it. A telegram for you.&mdash;Wait
+outside for an answer, Jimmy.&#8221;</p>
+<p>I tore open the envelope, confidently expecting
+that Cousin Sarah had been struck
+with paralysis; instead of which I read:</p>
+<div class='blockquot'>
+<div class='ra'>
+<p><i>Archville, Pennsylvania</i>,</p>
+<p><i>June</i> 16</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>Have this moment secured a large and important
+contract assuring two years&#8217; lucrative work.
+May I come to see you immediately? Name earliest
+day.</p>
+<div class='ra'>
+<p>R. M.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+<p>I handed the message to the Kitten, who
+read it and exclaimed: &#8220;I knew he was only
+waiting for the roof! You see he doesn&#8217;t
+worry about <i>my</i> prospects&mdash;selfish pig!
+Answer it and say Thursday&mdash;you can get
+well by Thursday, can&#8217;t you?&mdash;for I want
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_319' name='page_319'></a>319</span>
+to send for Tom on the same day. There&#8217;s a
+polo game at home on Saturday, and Tom
+has a new motor car. Tell Dick the best
+hotel in the town is the Brooks House. I
+must wire to Laura, too. I shall say, let me
+see: I shall say: &#8216;<i>You shouldn&#8217;t have left me.
+I couldn&#8217;t be noble alone.</i>&#8217; That&#8217;s just ten
+words. She&#8217;ll understand fast enough, and it
+will pave the way for you when you explain
+the situation to her. We&#8217;ll leave the sanitarium
+Friday and get your Cousin Sarah to
+chaperon us on the journey home. Here,
+I&#8217;ve written my messages, now do yours&mdash;hurry!
+There!&mdash;Jimmy, you&#8217;re too old to
+play with matches, aren&#8217;t you?&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, marm.&#8221;</p>
+<p>&#8220;Very well, then, you can be trusted with
+these two telegrams. Don&#8217;t hold them near
+the fire; there&#8217;s a match in each of them.&#8221;</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+
+<div class='ce'>
+<p style=' font-size:1.4em;'>SECOND WEEK</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>As a patient Dr. Levi says I am almost
+as great a credit to the institution as Mrs.
+Chittenden-Ffollette herself.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_320' name='page_320'></a>320</span></p>
+<p><i>Monday</i>.&mdash;I slept all day, waking only
+for meals.</p>
+<p><i>Tuesday</i>.&mdash;The handcuffs slipped off my
+wrists and the balls and chains off my ankles.</p>
+<p><i>Wednesday</i>.&mdash;My headache, sideache,
+backache, and shoulderache disappeared.
+Breakfasted with the doctor on coffee, hot
+biscuits, beefsteak, and griddle cakes with
+sausage.</p>
+<p><i>Thursday</i>.&mdash;Richard Morton came.</p>
+<p><i>Friday</i>.&mdash;Dismissed as completely cured.</p>
+<p>&#8220;The dimensions of this mercy are above
+my thoughts,&#8221; as Cromwell wrote after the
+Worcester fight.</p>
+<div class='ce'>
+<p style=' margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:3em;'><b>THE END</b></p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class='silver' />
+
+<div class='ce'>
+<p>The Riverside Press</p>
+<p>CAMBRIDGE · MASSACHUSSETTS</p>
+<p>U · S · A</p>
+</div>
+
+<!-- generated by ppgen.rb version: 2.27 -->
+<!-- timestamp: Wed Oct 15 10:51:15 -0400 2008 -->
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Ladies-In-Waiting, by Kate Douglas Wiggin
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@@ -0,0 +1,6596 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Ladies-In-Waiting, by Kate Douglas Wiggin
+
+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: Ladies-In-Waiting
+
+Author: Kate Douglas Wiggin
+
+Illustrator: Christine Tucke Curtiss
+
+Release Date: October 15, 2008 [EBook #26928]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LADIES-IN-WAITING ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+LADIES-IN-WAITING
+
+By
+KATE DOUGLAS WIGGIN
+
+WITH FRONTISPIECE BY
+CHRISTINE TUCKE CURTISS
+
+BOSTON AND NEW YORK
+HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY
+
+The Riverside Press Cambridge
+
+
+
+
+COPYRIGHT, 1919, BY KATE DOUGLAS RIGGS
+ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
+
+
+
+
+FOREWORD
+
+It may be urged that all proper heroines go through a period of
+uncertainty before giving their hands and hearts in marriage.
+Occasionally, however, there are longer seasons of indecision,
+incident to pride, high temper, or misunderstanding on the lady's
+side, or to poverty, undue timidity, or lack of high pressure on the
+part of the gentleman. I have christened the heroines of this volume
+"Ladies-in-Waiting," and that no mental picture may be formed of Queen
+and Court and Maids of Honor I have asked the artist to portray for
+the frontispiece a marriageable maiden seated pensively upon a
+hillside. Her attitude is plainly one of suspended animation while the
+new moon above her shoulders suggests to the reader that she will not
+wait in vain.
+
+                                                KATE DOUGLAS WIGGIN
+
+August 11, 1919
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+CHAPTER                         PAGE
+Miss Thomasina Tucker              1
+The Turning-Point                 97
+Huldah The Prophetess            145
+Two On A Tour                    183
+Philippa's Nervous Prostration   275
+
+
+
+
+LADIES-IN-WAITING
+
+MISS THOMASINA TUCKER
+
+I
+
+
+"Good-bye, Miss Tucker!"
+
+"Good luck, Miss Tommy!"
+
+"Bye, bye, Tomsie!"
+
+"Don't stay away too long!"
+
+These sentiments were being called from the Hoboken dock to the deck
+of an ocean steamer, while a young lady, buried in bouquets and
+bonbons, leaned over the rail, sparkling, inciting, compelling,
+responding.
+
+"Take care of yourself, Tommy!"
+
+"I don't see but that I must! Nobody else to do it!" she responded
+saucily.
+
+"You wouldn't let 'em if they tried!" This from a rosy-cheeked
+youngster who was as close to the water's edge as safety permitted.
+"Say, did you guess what my floral offering was to be when you trimmed
+your hat? I _am_ flattered!"
+
+"Sorry! The hat was trimmed weeks ago, and I'm wearing your bouquet
+because it matches."
+
+"Thanks, awfully," replied the crestfallen youth. "Plans for reduction
+of head-size constantly on file in Miss Tucker's office."
+
+"Just Carl's luck to hit on a match."
+
+"Don't see any particular luck in being accessory to a hat trimming,"
+grumbled Carl.
+
+"Write now and then, Miss Tommy, won't you?" said a fellow with
+eyeglasses and an air of fashion.
+
+"Won't promise! I'll wait till I'm rich enough to cable!"
+
+"Shilling a word's expensive, but you can send 'em to me collect. My
+word is 'Hopeful,'"--at which the little party laughed.
+
+"Register another, and make it 'Uncertain,'" called the girl
+roguishly, seeing that no one was paying any attention to her friends
+and their nonsense.
+
+"London first, is it?" asked the rosy youth. "Decided on your hotel?"
+
+"Hotel? It's going to be my share of a modest Bloomsbury lodging," she
+answered. "Got to sing my way from a third-floor-back in a side street
+to a gorgeous suite at the Ritz!"
+
+"We'll watch you!" cried three in chorus.
+
+"But we'd rather hear you, darling," said a nice, tailor-made girl,
+whose puffy eyelids looked as if she had been crying.
+
+"Blessed lamb! I hope I'll be better worth hearing! Oh, do go home,
+all of you; especially you, Jessie! My courage is oozing out at the
+heels of my shoes. Disappear! I've been farewelling actively for an
+hour and casually for a week. If they don't take off the gangplank in
+a minute or two I shan't have pluck enough to stick to the ship."
+
+"You can't expect us to brace you up, Tommy," said the rosy youth.
+"We're losing too much by it. Come along back! What's the matter with
+America?"
+
+"Don't talk to her that way, Carl,"--and the tailor-made girl looked
+at him reproachfully. "You know she's got nobody and nothing to come
+back to. She's given up her room. She's quarreled with her beastly
+uncle at last; all her belongings are in the hold of the steamer, and
+she's made up her mind."
+
+"All ashore that's going ashore!" The clarion tones of the steward
+rang through the air for the third time, and the loud beating of the
+ship's gong showed that the last moment had come. The gangplank was
+removed and the great liner pushed off and slowly wended her way
+down-river, some of the more faithful ones in the crowd waving
+handkerchiefs until she was a blur in the distance.
+
+"Well, there's no truer way of showing loyalty than by going to
+Hoboken to see a friend off," said the eyeglassed chap as he walked
+beside Jessie Macleod to the ferry. "I wouldn't do it for anybody but
+Tommy."
+
+"Nor I!" exclaimed the rosy youth. "Good old Tommy! I wonder whether
+she'll sing and have a career, or fall in love over there?"
+
+"She might do both, I should think; at least it has been done, though
+not, perhaps, with conspicuous success," was Carl's reply.
+
+"Whatever she does, we've lost her," sighed the girl; "and our little
+set will be so dull without Tommy!"
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+Fergus Appleton had leaned over the deck rail for a few moments before
+the ship started on her voyage; leaned there idly and indifferently,
+as he did most things, smoking his cigarette with an air of complete
+detachment from the world. He was going to no one, and leaving no one
+behind. He had money enough to live on, but life had always been
+something of a bore to him and he could not have endured it without
+regular occupation. His occasional essays on subjects connected with
+architecture, his critical articles in similar fields, his travels in
+search of wider information, the book on which he was working at the
+moment,--these kept him busy and gave him a sense of being tolerably
+useful in his generation. The particular group of juveniles shouting
+more or less intimate remarks to a girl passenger on board the steamer
+attracted his attention for a moment.
+
+"They are very young," he thought, "or they would realize that they
+are all revealing themselves with considerable frankness, although
+nobody seems to be listening but me!"
+
+He would not have listened, as a matter of fact, had it not been for
+the voice of the girl they called Tommy. It was not loud, but it had
+the quality of a golden bell, and Fergus was susceptible to a
+beautiful voice. One other thing--the slightest possible
+thing--enlisted his notice. She wore a great bunch of mignonette stuck
+in the waistband of her green cloth dress, and her small hat had a
+flat wreath of the same flower. Mignonette was, perhaps, the only
+growing thing of which Fergus Appleton ever took note, and its perfume
+was the only one that particularly appealed to his rather dull sense
+of smell; the reason being that in the old garden of the house in
+which he was born there was always a huge straggling patch of
+mignonette. His mother used to sit there on summer mornings and read
+to him, and when he lay on his back in the sunshine he used to watch
+the butterflies and humming-birds and trees, and sniff the fragrance
+that filled the air. When his mother died, he wandered into the
+garden, sought the familiar corner, and flung himself on the bed of
+mignonette to cry his heart out--the lonely heart of an eight-year-old
+boy. That was five and twenty years ago, but he never passed a
+florist's open door in summer-time without remembering that despairing
+hour and the fragrance of the flowers, bruised with his weight and
+moist with his tears.
+
+The girl vanished the moment the steamer was out of sight of the dock,
+and Fergus did not give her another thought for a day or two. He had
+liked her green cloth dress and the hat that framed her young,
+laughing, plucky face. He had thought her name suited her, and
+wondered what dignified appellation had been edited, cut, and
+metamorphosed to make "Tommy," deciding after a look at the passenger
+list that it was Thomasina, and that the girl must be Miss Thomasina
+Tucker, an alliterative combination which did not appeal to his
+literary taste.
+
+The voyage was a rough one, and he saw her only now and then, always
+alone, and generally standing on the end of the ship, her green cape
+blowing in a gale of wind and showing a scarlet lining, her mignonette
+hat exchanged for a soft green thing with an upstanding scarlet quill.
+She was the only companionable person on board, but he did not know
+her and sat nowhere near her at table, an assemblage of facts that
+seemed to settle the matter, considering the sort of man he was and
+the sort of girl she was.
+
+"She's too pretty and too young to be gallivanting about 'on her
+own,'" he said to himself one morning, when Tommy stood on the upper
+deck looking out to sea and, as far as he could judge, singing, though
+there was such a gale blowing that he could not hear her voice. "But
+all the girls are the same nowadays,"--and he puffed his pipe
+disconsolately; "all the same; brisk, self-supporting, good fellows.
+If I ever met a nice, unsuccessful-but-not-depressed sort of girl,
+soft but not silly, mild but not tame, flexible but not docile,
+spirited but not domineering, I think I should capitulate; but they're
+all dead. The type has changed, and I haven't changed with it."
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+Fergus Appleton did not make acquaintances easily; no man does who has
+had a lonely, neglected boyhood, his only companion a father who
+seldom remembered his existence, and, when he did, apparently
+regretted it. He had known girls, but he was a shy, silent, ugly boy,
+and appealed as little to them as they to him. He did not live through
+the twenties without discovering that a fine crop of sentiment was
+growing in his heart; he also discovered that he didn't know in the
+least what to do with it. George Meredith, speaking of Romance, says:
+"The young who avoid that region escape the title of Fool at the cost
+of a Celestial crown." Fergus Appleton wouldn't have minded being
+called a fool if only he could have contrived to deserve the title,
+and the glimmer of the crown celestial had been in his imagination
+more than once until he turned thirty and decided it was not for his
+head. Guileless school-girls did not appeal to him, and elderly sirens
+certainly had no power to charm; he was even widow-proof, so he became
+a thoroughfare for sisterly affection. Girls suffocated him with
+friendliness, which was not the stuff of which his dreams were made.
+
+However, he had nothing to complain of, for he got as good as he gave,
+and it occurred to him that he could not expect to start a disastrous
+conflagration in any maiden bosom so long as he had no brimstone, nor
+any substitute for it, on his own premises.
+
+"Anyway," he reflected (though perhaps not oftener than once a year),
+"if I haven't a tie in the world, I have complete freedom to do as I
+like!" And if the said freedom palled upon him occasionally, nobody
+was the wiser, for Fergus Appleton did not wear his heart on his
+sleeve.
+
+As for Tommy, there had been several Thomas Tuckers in genealogical
+line, and the father of Thomasina was already Thomas Tucker the third.
+Mr. and Mrs. Tucker, the parents of the first Thomas, must have been
+somewhat lacking in humor, and somewhat ignorant of the classics, for
+although they could not, perhaps, help being Tuckers, they needn't
+have saddled their offspring with a Christian name which would suggest
+Mother Goose to every properly educated person. However, the first
+Thomas grew into a great man, healthy, wealthy, and wise, and his
+descendants could hardly do less than keep his name alive. Thomas the
+third was disappointed, not to say mortified, when his only child,
+born in his old age, turned out to be a girl, but he bravely did the
+best he could and named her Thomasina. Mrs. Tucker did not like the
+name, but she died before the baby was three days old. The baby hated
+it herself when she reached years of discretion, and when she found
+that she possessed a voice and had a possible career before her, she
+saw plainly that something more mellifluous must be substituted if
+programmes should ever be in question. Meantime she was Tommy to her
+friends, and the gay little name suited her to a T. The gay little
+rhyme suited her, too, for like the Tommy Tucker in Mother Goose, she
+had to "sing for her supper"; for her breakfast, and her dinner, and
+her tea also, for that matter, if any were to be eaten.
+
+Her only relation, a disagreeable bachelor uncle, had given her a home
+during her orphaned girlhood, and her first idea on growing up was to
+get out of it. This she did promptly when she secured a place in a
+Brooklyn choir. The salary was modest, but it provided a room and at
+least one meal a day, not, of course, a Roman banquet, but something
+to satisfy a youthful appetite. It seemed to the intrepid possessor of
+a charming voice, an equally charming face, and a positive gift for
+playing accompaniments, that the other two meals, and a few clothes
+and sundries, might be forthcoming. As a matter of fact, they were,
+although the uncle said that Tommy would starve, and he almost hoped
+that she would, just to break the back of her obstinate independence.
+
+
+II
+
+
+Tommy had none too much to eat, and, according to her own aesthetic
+ambitions, nothing at all to wear; but she was busy all day long and
+absurdly happy. Her income was uncertain, but that was amusing and
+thrilling rather than pitiful or tragic. She had two or three
+"steadies" among singers, who gave her engagements as accompanist at
+small drawing-room recitals or charitable entertainments. There was a
+stout prima donna whose arias for dramatic soprano kept her practicing
+until midnight, and a rich young lady amateur who needed a very
+friendly and careful accompaniment because she sang flat and always
+lost her breath before the end of a long phrase. The manner in which
+Tommy concealed these defects was thoroughly ingenious and
+sympathetic. When Miss Guggenheim paused for breath, Tommy filled the
+gap with instrumental arabesques; when she was about to flat, Tommy
+gave her the note suggestively. If she was too dreadfully below pitch,
+and had breath enough to hang on to the note so long that the audience
+(always composed of invited guests) writhed obviously, Tommy would
+sometimes drop a sheet of music on the floor and create a diversion,
+always apologizing profusely for her clumsiness. The third patron was
+a young baritone, who liked Miss Tucker's appearance on the platform
+and had her whenever he didn't sing Schubert's "Erl Koenig," which
+Tommy couldn't play. This was her most profitable engagement, but it
+continued alas! for only three months, for the baritone wanted to
+marry her, and she didn't like him because he was bald and his neck
+was too fat. Also, she was afraid she would have to learn to play the
+"Erl Koenig" properly.
+
+All this time Tommy was longing to sing in public herself, and trying
+to save money enough to take more lessons by way of preparation.
+
+When she lost the baritone, who was really peevish at being rejected
+after suiting his programmes to her capacities for a whole season,
+Tommy conceived a new idea. She influenced Jessie Macleod, who had a
+fine contralto, and two other girls with well-trained voices, to form
+a quartette.
+
+"We can't get anything to do separately; perhaps we can make a
+pittance together," she said. "We'll do good simple things; our voices
+blend well, and if we practice enough there's no reason why we
+shouldn't sing beautifully."
+
+"Singing beautifully is one thing and getting engagements is another,"
+sighed Jessie Macleod.
+
+"As if I didn't know that! We can't hope to be superior to other
+quartettes, so we must be different--unusual, unique--I can't think
+just how at the moment, but I will before we make our debut."
+
+And she did, for Tommy was nothing if not fertile in ideas.
+
+Every hour that the girls could spare in the month of October was
+given to rehearsal, till the four fresh young voices were like one.
+They had decided to give nothing but English songs, to sing entirely
+from memory, and to make a specialty of good words well spoken. All
+the selections but one or two were to be without accompaniment, and in
+these Tommy would sit at the piano surrounded by the other three in a
+little group.
+
+Miss Guggenheim was to give them their first appearance, invite fifty
+or sixty people, and serve tea. She kindly offered to sing some solos
+herself, but Tommy, shuddering inwardly, said she thought it was
+better that the quartette should test its own strength unaided.
+
+Miss Guggenheim couldn't sing, but she could dress, and she had an
+inspiration a week before the concert.
+
+"What are you going to wear, girls?" she asked.
+
+"Anything we have, is the general idea," said Tommy. "Mine is black."
+
+"Mine's blue"--"White"--"Pink!" came from the other three.
+
+"But must you wear those particular dresses? Can't you each compromise
+a little so as to look better together?"
+
+"So hard to compromise when each of us has one dress hanging on one
+nail; one neck and sleeves filled up for afternoons and ripped out for
+evenings!"
+
+"I should get four simple dresses just alike," said Miss Guggenheim,
+who had a dozen.
+
+"What if they should hang in our closets unworn and unpaid for?" asked
+Jessie Macleod.
+
+"We're sure to get at least one engagement some time or other. Nothing
+ventured, nothing have. We ought to earn enough to pay for the
+dresses, if we do nothing more,"--and Tommy's vote settled it.
+
+Miss Guggenheim knew people, if she did sing flat, and her
+drawing-room was full on the occasion of the debut. Carl Bothwick, a
+friend of Tommy's, was in a publishing office, and nobly presented
+programmes for the occasion. The quartette had not thought of naming
+itself, but Carl had grouped the songs under the heading, "The Singing
+Girls," and luckily they liked the idea.
+
+At four o'clock the hum of conversation ceased at the sound of singing
+voices in the distance. A sort of processional effect had been Tommy's
+suggestion, and the quartette formed in the dressing-room and sang its
+way to the audience.
+
+             "Hark, hark, the lark at Heaven's gate sings,
+             And Phoebus 'gins to rise."
+
+The voices rang high and clear, coming nearer and nearer. All the
+words could be heard and understood. The hall portieres divided, and
+the girls entered, all in soft gray crepe, gardenias at the belt,
+little brimmed hats of black velvet with a single gardenia on the
+side, the flowers being the offering of the dramatic soprano, who
+loved Tommy. They were young, they were pretty, they sang delightfully
+in tune, and with quite bewitching effect. Several ladies fell in love
+with them at first sight, and hoped that they would sing for nothing a
+few times, "just to get themselves known." They had done nothing else
+for two years, so that Tommy said they must be acquainted with the
+entire State of New York, though nothing ever came of it. It was a
+joyous surprise, then, when an old gentleman in the company (who was
+seen to wipe tears away when the girls sang "Darby and Joan") engaged
+them to sing at his golden wedding the next night. That was the
+beginning of a season of modest prosperity. Tommy's baritone had
+married his new accompanist (he seemed determined to have a
+piano-playing wife), and wishing to show Miss Tucker that his heart
+was not broken by her rejection, he gave a handsome party and engaged
+the quartette, paying for their services in real coin of the realm.
+Other appearances followed in and out of town, and Tommy paid for her
+gray dress, spent a goodly sum for an attack of tonsillitis, the
+result of overwork, and still saved two hundred dollars. The season
+was over. She was fagged, but not disheartened. Who is at twenty-two?
+But it was late April, and drawing-room entertainments were no more.
+The two hundred dollars when augmented by the church salary would
+barely take her through till October.
+
+"It is very annoying," thought Tommy, "when you have to eat, drink,
+sleep, and dress twelve months in the year, that the income by which
+you do these things should cease abruptly for four months. Still,
+furriers can't sell furs in hot weather, and summer boarders can't
+board in winter, so I suppose other people have to make enough money
+in eight months to spend in twelve."
+
+             "'Hark, hark, the lark at Heaven's gate sings,
+             And Phoebus 'gins to rise!'"
+
+she caroled, splashing about in her morning tub as she finished making
+these reflections, the tub being an excellent place for trills and
+scales.
+
+Proceeding from tub to her sitting-room to make things ready for
+toilet and breakfast, her mind ran on her little problems.
+
+"I want to learn more, see more, hear more," she thought. "I have one
+of those nasty, unserviceable, betwixt-and-between talents: voice not
+high enough for 'Robert, toi que j'aime,' nor low enough for
+'Staendchen'; not flexible enough for 'Caro Nome,' nor big enough for
+'Ocean, Thou Mighty Monster'; poor French accent, worse German;
+awfully good English, but that doesn't count. Can sing old ballads,
+folk-songs, and nice, forgotten things that make dear old gentlemen
+and ladies cry--but not pay. If I were billed at all, it ought to be
+
+              "First Appearance in Public[[v:small-caps]]
+                           of[[v:small-caps]]
+                Behind-the-Times Tommy"[[v:small-caps]]
+
+This appellation so tickled her fancy that she nearly upset the
+coffee-pot, and she continued to laugh at her own wit until a fat
+letter was pushed under her door from the hall outside. She picked it
+up. It had an English postmark.
+
+"Helena Markham!" she cried, joyously.
+
+  DEAR TOMMY: [the letter read]
+
+  Don't you want to come over to London for the season? You never
+  make any money at home from June to October, and if by chance
+  you have a penny in the bank (I don't know why I say "if" when
+  none of us ever had such a thing!) I think I can put enough in
+  your way to pay part of your expenses. I am really beginning to
+  get on!--three engagements in the provincial towns all arranged.
+  My accompanist plays lots better than you do, but I don't sing
+  half so well with him as I used to with you. You somehow infuse
+  the spirit into me that I lack. I incline to be lumpy and heavy.
+  They may not notice it in the provinces, for I dare say they are
+  lumpy and heavy there, too. However, though I shall have to have
+  somebody well known over here for concerts of any great
+  pretensions, I could work you into smaller ones, and coach with
+  you, too, since I must have somebody. And you are so
+  good-looking, Tommy dear, and have such a winning profile! I am
+  plainer than ever, but no plainer than Madame Titiens, so the
+  papers say. I never saw or heard her, of course, but the critics
+  say I have the same large, "massive" style of voice and person.
+  My present accompanist would take first prize for ugliness in
+  any competition; he is more like a syndicate of plainness than
+  one single exemplification of it! I must have a noble nature to
+  think more of my audiences than of myself, but I should like to
+  give them something to please their eyes--I flatter myself I can
+  take care of their ears!
+
+  Oh, do come, Tommy! Say you will!
+
+                                                        HELENA.
+
+Tommy pirouetted about the room like an intoxicated bird, waving the
+letter, and trilling and running joyful chromatic scales, for the most
+part badly done.
+
+"Will I go to London?" she warbled in a sort of improvised recitative.
+"Will I take two or two and a half lessons of Georg Henschel? Will I
+grace platforms in the English provinces? Will I take my two hundred
+dollars out of the bank and risk it royally? Perhaps the bystanders
+will glance in at my windows and observe me giving the landlady
+notice, and packing my trunk, both of which delightful tasks I shall
+be engaged in before the hour strikes."
+
+
+III
+
+
+Fergus Appleton thought he saw "the singing girl" of his voyage from
+New York one May day in Wells, where he went to study the cathedral.
+He noticed a hansom with a pink-clad figure in the opening, looking
+like a rosebud of a new and odd sort on wheels. At least, it looked
+like a rosebud at the moment the doors rolled back like the leaves of
+a calyx, and the flower issued, triumphant and beautiful. She was
+greeted by a tall, stout young lady, who climbed into the hansom, and
+the two settled themselves quickly and drove off.
+
+Appleton's hansom followed on its own course, which chanced to be in
+the same direction, and he saw the slim and the stout disappear up a
+hilly street, at the top of which was a famous old house. He walked
+that way in the afternoon, having nothing better to do, but could
+observe no dwelling at which the two ladies might be staying. There
+was a pretty cottage with a long, graveled pathway leading to it, and
+a little sign on the locked gate reading: "Spring Cleaning. Please do
+not knock or ring." Farther along was a more pretentious house, so
+attractive that he was sorry he had never noticed it before, for the
+sign "Apartments to Let" was in one of the front windows. He heard a
+piano in the rear somewhere, but on reaching the front door another
+sign confronted him: "The parlor maid is slightly deaf. If doorbell is
+not answered at once, please step inside and ring the dinner bell on
+the hall table."
+
+This somehow required more courage than Appleton possessed, though he
+determined to look at the rooms on his next visit, so he stole down
+the path and went about his business, wondering why in the world he
+had done such a besotted thing as to take a walk among the furnished
+lodgings of the cathedral town of Wells.
+
+The summer waxed. He had nearly finished his book, and feeling the
+need of some peaceful retreat where he could do the last chapters and
+work up his sketches, he took the advice of an English friend and went
+down to Devonshire, intending to go from place to place until he found
+a hotel and surroundings to his mind.
+
+The very first one pleased his exacting taste, and he felt that the
+Bexley Sands Inn would be the very spot in which to write; comfortable
+within, a trifle too large, perhaps, and at week-ends too full of
+people, but clean, well-kept, and sunny.
+
+It was a Friday evening, and the number of guests who arrived on the
+last train from Torquay was rather disturbing. The dining-room service
+was not interfered with, but Appleton made up his mind to smoke his
+pipe in his own sitting-room and go down to the lounge later to read
+the papers, when the crowd might have dispersed. At nine o'clock,
+accordingly, he descended, and was preparing to settle himself with
+the last "Spectator" when the young lady in the office observed:
+"There's a very good concert going on in the drawing-room, sir, if you
+enjoy music. No admittance, you know; just a plate at the door as you
+leave--quite optional."
+
+Appleton bowed his thanks, filled his pipe, and taking up his
+newspaper with a sensation of comfortable idleness, was beginning an
+article on the situation in the Balkans, when a voice floated out from
+the distant drawing-room, down the long corridor, through the
+writing-room into the lounge. It was not a little voice nor a big
+voice, it seemed to have no extraordinarily high notes and no low
+ones, it did not arrest attention by the agility of its use; but it
+was as fresh and young as a bird's and sweeter than honey in the comb.
+It began by caroling "My Love's an Arbutus," went on to "The Little
+Red Lark" and "The Low-Backed Car," so that Appleton, his head thrown
+back in the easy-chair, the smoke wreaths from his pipe circling in
+the air, the Balkans forgotten, decided that the singer was Irish.
+
+"A pretty voice, sir," remarked the goddess of the hotel office. "I'm
+sorry so many of our guests are playing bowls this evening, and
+there's a bridge party of three tables in our first-floor private
+sitting-room, or the young lady would have had an audience. She seems
+a nice little thing, quite a stranger, with no experience."
+
+If the singer had even a small group of hearers, they were apparently
+delighted with "The Low-Backed Car," for with only a second's pause
+she gave "The Minstrel Boy." A certain individual quality of tone and
+spirit managed to bridge the distance between the drawing-room and
+lounge; or perhaps it was the piano accompaniment, so beautifully
+played that one could almost imagine it a harp; or was it that the
+words were so familiar to Appleton that every syllable was understood,
+so that the passion and fire of the old song suffered no loss?
+
+               "The minstrel fell, but the foeman's chain
+                 Could not bring that proud soul under!
+               The harp he loved ne'er spoke again,
+                 For he tore its chords asunder."
+
+"It's a pity her programme is so old-fashioned," said the young lady
+of the office, passing his chair to give an order to the page. "It's
+true only the elderly people went in, but our week-enders are very
+up-to-date in everything. There's a lot of Londoners here, and those
+from Torquay are frightfully musical. If they don't get Debewssy, it
+seems they think nothing of the programme."
+
+"Well, I confess that Debussy seems a trifle alien to this time and
+place," said Appleton, "and these old ballads suit my taste much
+better. I think I'll take a nearer view."
+
+He shoved his pipe into its case and strolled down the corridor,
+pausing behind the heavy velvet portieres that shut off the
+drawing-room. There was no buzz of conversation going on, because
+there was not a sufficient number of persons to buzz. A very quiet,
+stodgy audience it was, with no friendly grouping; just a few old
+gentlemen here and a few old ladies there, sometimes with their
+prematurely aged and chastened paid companions by their sides. There
+were some girls of fifteen or sixteen, too, scattered about, a few of
+them accompanied by prim governesses.
+
+Appleton heard the entrance of some one from the anteroom beyond the
+grand piano, then a few chords, struck by hands that loved the ivory
+keys and evoked a reciprocal tenderness every time they touched them;
+then:
+
+                 "Near Woodstock Town in Oxfordshire
+                 As I walked forth to take the air,
+                 To view the fields and meadows round,
+                 Methought I heard a mournful sound."
+
+So the chronicle ran on until the crisis came:
+
+                  "The lady round the meadow ran,
+                  And gathered flowers as they sprang.
+                  Of every sort she there did pull
+                  Until she got her apron full."
+
+The history of the distracted lady's unhappy passion persevered:
+
+                 "The green ground served her as a bed,
+                 The flowers a pillow for her head.
+                 She laid her down and nothing spoke.
+                 Alas! for love her heart was broke."
+
+Appleton was at first too enchanted with the mischievous yet
+sympathetic rendition of this tragedy to do anything but listen. The
+voice, the speech, were so full of color and personality he forgot for
+the moment that there would be a face behind them; but there was an
+irresistible something in the line, "Until she got her apron full,"
+that forced him to peep behind the curtain just in time to catch the
+singer's smile.
+
+As this is not a story of plot, suspense, or mystery, there is no
+earthly use in denying that the lady in question was Miss Thomasina
+Tucker, nor any sense in affirming that her appearance in Fergus
+Appleton's hotel was in the nature of a dramatic coincidence, since
+Americans crossing the Atlantic on the same steamer are continually
+meeting in the British Isles and on the Continent.
+
+Appleton was pleased to see the girl again because he had always liked
+her face, and he was delighted to find that her voice not only
+harmonized with it, but increased its charm a hundredfold. Miss Tommy
+had several rather uncommon qualities in her equipment. One was that
+when she sang a high note she did it without exposing any of the
+avenues which led to her singing apparatus. She achieved her effects
+without pain to herself or to the observer, just flinging them off as
+gayly and irresponsibly as a bird on a bough, without showing any
+_modus operandi_. She had tenderness also, and fire, and a sense of
+humor which, while she never essayed a "comic" song, served her in
+good stead in certain old ballads with an irresistibly quaint twist in
+them. She made it perfectly clear that she was sorry for the poor lady
+who was running around the meadow preparing her flowery bier, but the
+conviction crept over you that she was secretly amused at the same
+time. Appleton heard the smile in her voice before he pulled aside the
+curtain and saw its counterpart on her face; heard and responded, for
+when Tommy tossed a smile at you, you caught it gratefully and tossed
+it back in the hope of getting a second and a third.
+
+Another arrow in Tommy's modest quiver was the establishment of an
+instantaneous intimacy between herself and her audience. The singing
+of her songs was precisely like the narration of so many stories, told
+so simply and directly that the most hardened critic would have his
+sting removed without being aware of it. He would know that Tommy
+hadn't a remarkable voice, but he would forget to mention it because
+space was limited. Sometimes he would say that she was an interpreter
+rather than a singer, and Tommy, for her part, was glad to be called
+anything, and grateful when she wasn't brutally arraigned for the
+microscopic size of her talent.
+
+It was Tommy's captivating friendliness and the quality of her smile
+that "did" for the shyest and stiffest of men, for by the time she had
+finished her programme the thunderbolt, the classic, the eternal
+thunderbolt, had fallen, and Fergus Appleton was in love. Tommy began
+her unconscious depredations with "Near Woodstock Town" and "Phillida
+Flouts Me," added fuel to the flames with "My Heart's in the
+Highlands" and "Charlie Is My Darling," and reduced his heart to ashes
+with "Allan Water" and "Has Sorrow Thy Young Days Shaded?" The smile
+began it, but it was tears that worked the final miracle, though
+moisture very rarely has this effect on fires of any sort.
+
+Tommy was tired and a bit disheartened; Appleton, the only responsive
+person in the audience, was seated in a far corner of the room,
+completely hidden behind a lady of formidable width and thickness, so
+the singer could not be expected to feel the tidal waves of
+appreciation he was sending toward her, although they ran so high at
+one moment that he could have risen to his feet and begged her to
+elope with him. The rest of her hearers sat heavily, stodgily in their
+seats without moving a muscle, mental, emotional, or physical. They
+had no private sitting-rooms, and they might as well be where they
+were as anywhere else; that was the idea they conveyed in every
+feature of their expressionless faces. An old gentleman in the front
+row left the room during the last song on the programme, and Appleton
+was beset by, and resisted, a vulgar temptation to put out his foot
+and trip him up in the doorway. When Tommy sang:
+
+                 "Has hope, like the bird in the story,
+                 That flitted from tree to tree
+                 With the talisman's glitt'ring glory,
+                 Has hope been that bird to thee?
+                 On branch after branch alighting,
+                 The gem did she still display,
+                 And when nearest and most inviting,
+                 Then waft the fair gem away."
+
+"Yes, yes, a thousand times yes," answered Fergus Appleton's heart,
+for the first time in his life conscious of loneliness, lack of
+purpose, lack of anchorage, lack of responsibilities, lack of
+everything he had never wanted before, but wanted desperately all at
+once, and quite independent of logic.
+
+He slipped out of the door and let the scattered units in the audience
+assemble, pass him, and drift down the corridor toward the office and
+lounge. To his astonishment and anger they dropped shillings on the
+plate, and the young people sixpences and, great Heavens! even
+pennies; one half-crown, the tacit apology of the old gentleman who
+had left early, was the only respectable offering. Appleton took out a
+sovereign, and then was afraid to put it in the collection for fear of
+exciting the singer's curiosity, so he rummaged his pockets for
+half-crowns and two-shilling pieces. Finding only two or three, he
+changed his mind and put back the gold-piece just in time to avoid the
+eye of the page, who came to take the offering back to Miss Tucker.
+Appleton twisted his mustache nervously, and walked slowly toward the
+anteroom with no definite idea in mind, save perhaps that she might
+issue from her retreat and recognize him as she passed. (As a matter
+of fact she had never once noticed him on the steamer, but the poor
+wretch was unconscious of that misfortune!) The page came out, putting
+something in his pocket, and left the door half open behind him.
+Appleton wheeled swiftly, feeling like a spy, but not until he had
+seen Miss Thomasina Tucker take a large copper coin from the plate,
+fling it across the room, bury the plate of silver upside down in a
+sofa cushion, and precipitate herself upon it with a little quivering
+wail of shame, or disappointment, or rage, he could hardly determine
+which.
+
+Appleton followed the unfeeling, unmusical, penurious old ladies and
+gentlemen back into the lounge, glaring at them as belligerently and
+offensively as a gentleman could and maintain his self-respect. Then
+he went into the waiting-room and embarked upon a positive orgy of
+letter-writing. Looking up from the last of his pile a half-hour
+later, he observed the young lady who was unconsciously preventing a
+proper flow of epistolary inspiration on his part, seated at a desk in
+the opposite corner. A pen was in her right hand, and in her left she
+held a tiny embroidered handkerchief, rather creased. Sometimes she
+bit the corner of it, sometimes she leaned her cheek upon it,
+sometimes she tapped the blotting-pad with the pen-handle, very much
+as if she had no particular interest in what she was doing, or else
+she was very doubtful about the wisdom of it.
+
+Presently she took some pennies from a small purse, and rising, took
+her letters with her with the evident intention of posting them.
+Appleton rose too, lifting his pile of correspondence, and followed
+close at her heels. She went to the office, laid down threepence, with
+her letters, turned, saw Fergus Appleton with the physical eye, but
+looked directly through him as if he were a man of glass and poor
+quality of glass at that, and sauntered upstairs as if she were
+greatly bored with life.
+
+However, the top letter of her three was addressed very plainly to the
+"Bishop of Bath and Wells," and Fergus Appleton had known the bishop,
+and the bishop's wife, for several years. Accordingly, the post-bag
+that night held two letters addressed to the Bishop's Palace, and
+there was every prospect of an immediate answer to one of them.
+
+
+IV
+
+
+As for the country roundabout the Bexley Sands Inn, it is one of the
+loveliest in Devonshire. It does not waste a moment, but, realizing
+the brevity of week-end visits and the anxiety of tourists to see the
+greatest amount of scenery in the shortest space, it begins its duty
+at the very door of the inn and goes straight on from one stretch of
+loveliness to another.
+
+If you have been there, you remember that if you turn to the right and
+go over the stone bridge that crosses the sleepy river, you are in the
+very heart of beauty. You pick your way daintily along the edge of the
+road, for it is carpeted so thickly with sea-pinks and yellow and
+crimson crow's-foot that you scarcely know where to step. Sea-poppies
+there are, too, groves of them, growing in the sandy stretches that
+lie close to and border the wide, shingly beach. In summer the long,
+low, narrow stone bridge crosses no water, but just here is an acre or
+two of tall green rushes. You walk down the bank a few steps and sit
+under the shadow of a wall. The green garden of rushes stretches in
+front of you, with a still, shallow pool between you and it, a pool
+floating with blossoming water-weeds. On the edge of the rushes grow
+tall yellow irises in great profusion; the cuckoo's note sounds in the
+distance; the sun, the warmth, the intoxication of color, make you
+drowsy, and you lean back among the green things, close your eyes, and
+then begin listening to the wonderful music of the rushes. A million
+million reeds stirred by the breeze bend to and fro, making a faint
+silken sound like that of a summer wave lapping the shore, but far
+more ethereal.
+
+Thomasina Tucker went down the road, laden with books, soon after
+breakfast Monday morning. Appleton waited until after the post came
+in, and having received much-desired letters and observed with joy the
+week-enders setting forth, hither and thither on their return
+journeys, followed what he supposed to be Miss Tucker's route; at
+least, it was her route on Saturday and Sunday, and he could not
+suppose her to harbor caprice or any other feminine weakness.
+
+Yes, there she was, in the very loveliest nook, the stone wall at her
+back, and in front nice sandy levels for books and papers and
+writing-pad.
+
+"Miss Tucker, may I invade your solitude for a moment? Our mutual
+friend, the Bishop of Bath and Wells, has written asking me to look
+you up as a fellow countryman and see if I can be of any service to
+you so far away from home."
+
+Tommy looked up, observed a good-looking American holding a letter in
+one hand and lifting a hat with the other, and bade him welcome.
+
+"How kind of the bishop! But he is always doing kind things; his wife,
+too. I have seen much of them since I came to England."
+
+"My name is Appleton, Fergus Appleton, at your service."
+
+"Won't you take a stone, or make yourself a hollow in the sand?" asked
+Tommy hospitably. "I came out here to read and study, and get rid of
+the week-enders. Isn't Bexley Sands a lovely spot, and do you ever get
+tired of the bacon and the kippered herring, and the fruit tarts with
+Devonshire cream?"
+
+"I can't bear to begin an acquaintance with a lady by differing on
+such vital points, but I do get tired of these Bexley delicacies."
+
+"Perhaps you have been here too long--or have you just come this
+morning?"
+
+Appleton swallowed his disappointment and hurt vanity, and remarked:
+"No, I came on Friday." (He laid some emphasis on Friday.)
+
+"The evening train is so incorrigibly slow! I only reached the hotel
+at ten o'clock when I arrived on Thursday night." Miss Tucker shot a
+rapid glance at the young man as she made this remark.
+
+"I came by the morning express and arrived here at three on Friday,"
+said Appleton.
+
+Miss Tucker, with a slight display of perhaps legitimate temper,
+turned suddenly upon him. "There! I have been trying for two minutes
+to find out when you came, and now I know you were at my beastly
+concert on Friday evening!"
+
+"I certainly was, and very grateful I am, too."
+
+"I suppose all through my life people will be turning up who were in
+that room!" said Miss Tucker ungraciously. "I must tell somebody what
+I feel about that concert! I should prefer some one who wasn't a
+stranger, but you are a great deal better than nobody. Do you mind?"
+
+Appleton laughed like a boy, and flung his hat a little distance into
+a patch of sea-pinks.
+
+"Not a bit. Use me, or abuse me, as you like, so long as you don't
+send me away, for this was my favorite spot before you chose it for
+yours."
+
+"I live in New York, and I came abroad early in the summer," began
+Tommy.
+
+"I know that already!" interrupted Appleton.
+
+"Oh, I suppose the bishop told you."
+
+"No, I came with you; that is, I was your fellow passenger."
+
+"Did you? Why, I never saw you on the boat."
+
+"My charms are not so dazzling that I expect them to be noted and
+remembered," laughed Appleton.
+
+"It is true I was very tired, and excited, and full of anxieties,"
+said Tommy meekly.
+
+"Don't apologize! If you tried for an hour, you couldn't guess just
+why I noticed and remembered _you_!"
+
+"I conclude then it was not for _my_ dazzling charms," Tommy answered
+saucily.
+
+"It was because you wore the only flower I ever notice, one that is
+associated with my earliest childhood. I never knew a woman to wear a
+bunch of mignonette before."
+
+"Some one sent it to me, I remember, and it had some hideous scarlet
+pinks in the middle. I put the pinks in my room and pinned on the
+mignonette because it matched my dress. I am very fond of green."
+
+"My mother loved mignonette. We always had beds of it in our garden
+and pots of it growing in the house in winter. I can smell it whenever
+I close my eyes."
+
+Tommy glanced at him. She felt something in his voice that she liked,
+something that attracted her and wakened an instantaneous response.
+
+"But go on," he said. "I only know as yet that you sailed from New
+York in the early summer, as I did."
+
+"Well, I went to London to join a great friend, a singer, Helena
+Markham. Have you heard of her?"
+
+"No; is she an American?"
+
+"Yes, a Western girl, from Montana, with oh! such a magnificent voice
+and such a big talent!" (The outward sweep of Tommy's hands took in
+the universe.) "We've had some heavenly weeks together. I play
+accompaniments, and--"
+
+"I know you do!"
+
+"I forgot for the moment how much too much you know! I went with her
+to Birmingham, and Manchester, and Leeds, and Liverpool. I wasn't
+really grand enough for her, but the audiences didn't notice me,
+Helena was so superb. In between I took some lessons of Henschel. He
+told me I hadn't much voice, but very nice brains. I am always called
+'intelligent,' and no one can imagine how I hate the word!"
+
+"It is offensive, but not so bad as some others. I, for example, have
+been called a 'conscientious writer'!"
+
+"Oh, are you a writer?"
+
+"Of a sort, yes. But, as you were saying--"
+
+"As I was saying, everything was going so beautifully until ten days
+ago, when Helena's people cabled her to come home. Her mother is
+seriously ill and cannot live more than a few months. She went at
+once, but I couldn't go with her--not very well, in midsummer--and so
+here I am, all alone, high and dry."
+
+She leaned her chin in the cup of her hand and, looking
+absent-mindedly at the shimmering rushes, fell into a spell of silence
+that took no account of Appleton.
+
+To tell the truth, he didn't mind looking at her unobserved for a
+moment or two. He had almost complete control of his senses, and he
+didn't believe she could be as pretty as he thought she was. There was
+no reason to think that she was better to look at than an out-and-out
+beauty. Her nose wasn't Greek. It was just a trifle faulty, but it was
+piquant and full of mischief. There was nothing to be said against her
+mouth or her eyelashes, which were beyond criticism, and he
+particularly liked the way her dark-brown hair grew round her temples
+and her ears--but the quality in her face that appealed most to
+Appleton was a soft and touching youthfulness.
+
+Suddenly she remembered herself, and began again:
+
+"Miss Markham and I had twice gone to large seaside hotels with great
+success, but, of course, she had a manager and a reputation. I thought
+I would try the same thing alone in some very quiet retreat, and see
+if it would do. Oh! wasn't it funny!" (Here she broke into a perfectly
+childlike fit of laughter.) "It was such a well-behaved, solemn little
+audience, that never gave me an inkling of its liking or its
+loathing."
+
+"Oh, yes, it did!" remonstrated Appleton. "They loved your Scotch
+songs."
+
+"Silently!" cried Tommy. "I had dozens and dozens of other things
+upstairs to sing to them, but I thought I was suiting my programme to
+the place and the people. I looked at them during luncheon and made my
+selections."
+
+"You are flattering the week-enders."
+
+"I believe you are musical," she ventured, looking up at him as she
+played with a tuft of sea-pinks.
+
+"I am passionately fond of singing, so I seldom go to concerts," he
+answered, somewhat enigmatically. "Your programme was an enchanting
+one to me."
+
+"It was good of its kind, if the audience would have helped me,"--and
+Tommy's lip trembled a little; "but perhaps I could have borne that,
+if it hadn't been for the--plate."
+
+"Not a pleasant custom, and a new one to me," said Appleton.
+
+"And to me!" (Here she made a little grimace of disgust.) "I knew
+beforehand I had to face the plate--but the contents! Where did you
+sit?"
+
+"I was forced to stay a trifle in the background, I entered so late.
+It was your 'Minstrel Boy' that dragged me out of my armchair in the
+lounge."
+
+"Then perhaps you saw the plate? I know by your face that you did! You
+saw the sixpences, which I shall never forget, and the pennies, which
+I will never forgive! I thirst for the blood of those who put in
+pennies!"
+
+"They would all have been sitting in boiling oil since Friday if I had
+had my way," responded Appleton.
+
+Tommy laughed delightedly. "I know now who put in the sovereign! I
+knew every face in that audience--that wasn't difficult in so small a
+one--and I tried and tried to fix the sovereign on any one of them,
+and couldn't. At last I determined that it was the old gentleman who
+went out in the middle of 'Allan Water,' feeling that he would rather
+pay anything than stay any longer. Confess! it _was_ you!"
+
+Appleton felt very sheepish as he met Tommy's dancing eyes and
+heightened color.
+
+"I couldn't bear to let you see those pennies," he stammered, "but I
+couldn't get them out before the page came to take the plate."
+
+"Perhaps you were 'pound foolish,' and the others were 'penny wise,'
+but it was awfully nice of you. If I can pay my bill here without
+spending that sovereign, I believe I'll keep it for a lucky piece. I
+shall be very rich by Saturday night, anyway."
+
+"A legacy due?"
+
+"Goodness, no! I haven't a relation in the world except one, who
+disapproves of me; not so much as I disapprove of him, however. No,
+Albert Spalding and Donald Tovey have engaged me for a concert in
+Torquay."
+
+"I have some business in Torquay which will keep me there for a few
+days on my way back to Wells," said Appleton nonchalantly. (The
+bishop's letter had been a pure and undefiled source of information on
+all points.)
+
+"Why, how funny! I hope you'll be there on Saturday. There'll be no
+plate! Tickets two and six to seven and six, but you shall be my
+guest, my sovereign guest. I am going to Wells myself to stay
+till--till I make up my mind about a few things."
+
+"America next?" inquired Appleton, keeping his voice as colorless as
+possible.
+
+"I don't know. Helena made me resign my church position in Brooklyn,
+and for the moment my 'career' is undecided."
+
+She laughed, but her eyes denied the mirth that her lips affirmed, and
+Appleton had such a sudden, illogical desire to meddle with her
+career, to help or hinder it, to have a hand in it at any rate, that
+he could hardly hold his tongue.
+
+"The Torquay concert will be charming, I hope. You know what
+Spalding's violin-playing is, and Donald Tovey is a young genius at
+piano-playing and composing. He is going to accompany me in some of
+his own songs, and he wants me to sing a group of American
+ones--Macdowell, Chadwick, Nevin, Mrs. Beach, and Margaret Lang."
+
+"I hope you'll accompany yourself in some of your own ballads!"
+
+"No, the occasion is too grand; unless they should happen to like me
+very much. Then I could play for myself, and sing 'Allan Water,' or
+'Believe Me,' or 'Early One Morning,' or 'Barbara Allen.'"
+
+(Appleton wondered if a claque of sizable, trustworthy boys could be
+secured in Torquay, and under his intelligent and inspired leadership
+carry Miss Thomasina Tucker like a cork on the wave of success.)
+
+"Wouldn't it be lunch-time?" asked Miss Tucker, after a slight pause.
+
+"It is always time for something when I'm particularly enjoying
+myself," grumbled Appleton, looking at his watch. "It's not quite one
+o'clock. Must we go in?"
+
+"Oh, yes; we've ten minutes' walk,"--and Tommy scrambled up and began
+to brush sand from her skirts.
+
+"Couldn't I sit at your table--under the chaperonage of the Bishop of
+Bath and Wells?" And Appleton got on his feet and collected Tommy's
+books.
+
+The girl's laugh was full-hearted this time. "Certainly not," she
+said. "What does Bexley Sands know of the bishop and his interest in
+us? But if you can find the drawing-room utterly deserted at any time,
+I'll sing for you."
+
+"How about a tea-basket and a walk to Gray Rocks at four o'clock?"
+asked Appleton as they strolled toward the hotel.
+
+"Charming! And I love singing out of doors without accompaniment. I'm
+determined to earn that sovereign in course of time! Are you from New
+England?"
+
+"Yes; and you?"
+
+"Oh, I'm from New York. I was born in a row of brown-stone fronts, in
+a numbered street, twenty-five or thirty houses to a block, all
+exactly alike. I wonder how I've outlived my start. And you?"
+
+"In the country, bless it,--in the eastern part of Massachusetts. We
+had a garden and my mother and I lived in it during all the months of
+my life that matter. That's where the mignonette grew."
+
+"'And He planted a garden eastward in Eden,'" quoted Tommy, half to
+herself.
+
+"It's the only Eden I ever knew! Do you like it over here, Miss
+Tucker, or are you homesick now that your friend is in America?"
+
+"Oh, I'm never homesick; for the reason that I have never had any home
+since I was ten years old, when I was left an orphan. I haven't any
+deep roots in New York; it's like the ocean, too big to love. I
+respect and admire the ocean, but I love a little river. You know the
+made-over aphorism: 'The home is where the hat is'? For 'hat' read
+'trunk,' and you have my case, precisely."
+
+"That's because you are absurdly, riotously young! It won't suit you
+forever."
+
+"Does anything suit one forever?" asked Tommy frivolously, not
+cynically, but making Appleton a trifle uncomfortable nevertheless.
+"Anything except singing, I mean? Perhaps you feel the same way about
+writing? You haven't told me anything about your work, and I've
+confided my past history, present prospects, and future aspirations to
+you!"
+
+"There's not so much to say. It is good work, and it is growing
+better. I studied architecture at the Beaux-Arts. I do art-criticism,
+and I write about buildings chiefly. That would seem rather dull to a
+warbler like you."
+
+"Not a bit. Doesn't somebody say that architecture is frozen music?"
+
+"I don't get as immediate response to my work as you do to yours."
+
+"No, but you never had sixpences and pennies put into your plate! Now
+give me my books, please. I'll go in at the upper gate alone, and run
+upstairs to my room. You enter by the lower one and go through the
+lounge, where the guests chiefly congregate waiting for the opening of
+the dining-room. Au revoir!"
+
+When Tommy opened her bedroom door she elevated her pretty,
+impertinent little nose and sniffed the air. It was laden with a
+delicate perfume that came from a huge bunch of mignonette on the
+table. It was long-stemmed, fresh, and moist, loosely bound together,
+and every one of its tiny brown blossoms was sending out fragrance
+into the room. It did not need Fergus Appleton's card to identify the
+giver, but there it was.
+
+"What a nice, kind, understanding person he is! And how cheerful it
+makes life to have somebody from your own country taking an interest
+in you, and liking your singing, and hating those beastly pennies!"
+And Tommy, quickly merging artist in woman, slipped on a coatee of
+dull-green crepe over her old black taffeta, and taking down her hat
+with the garland of mignonette from the shelf in her closet, tucked
+some of the green sprays in her belt, and went down to luncheon. She
+didn't know where Fergus Appleton's table was, but she would make her
+seat face his. Then she could smile thanks at him over the
+mulligatawny soup, or the filet of sole, or the boiled mutton, or the
+apple tart. Even the Bishop of Bath and Wells couldn't object to
+that!
+
+
+V
+
+
+Their friendship grew perceptibly during the next two days, though
+constantly under the espionage of the permanent guests of the Bexley
+Sands Inn, but on Wednesday night Miss Tucker left for Torquay,
+according to schedule. Fergus Appleton remained behind, partly to make
+up arrears in his literary work, and partly as a sop to decency and
+common sense. He did not deem it either proper or dignified to escort
+the young lady on her journey (particularly as he had not been asked
+to do so), so he pined in solitary confinement at Bexley until
+Saturday morning, when he followed her to the scene of her labors.
+
+After due reflection he gave up the idea of the claque, and rested
+Tommy's case on the knees of the gods, where it transpired that it was
+much safer, for Torquay liked Tommy, and the concert went off with
+enormous eclat. From the moment that Miss Thomasina Tucker appeared on
+the platform the audience looked pleased. She wore a quaint dress of
+white flounced chiffon, with a girdle of green, and a broad white hat
+with her old mignonette garland made into two little nosegays perched
+on either side of the transparent brim. She could not wear the
+mignonette that Appleton had sent to her dressing-room, because she
+would have been obscured by the size of the offering, but she carried
+as much of it as her strength permitted, and laid the fragrant bouquet
+on the piano as she passed it. (A poem had come with it, but Tommy did
+not dare read it until the ordeal was over, for no one had ever
+written her a poem before. It had three long verses, and was signed
+"F.A."--that was all she had time to note.)
+
+A long-haired gentleman sitting beside Appleton remarked to his
+neighbor: "The girl looks like a flower; it's a pity she has such a
+heathenish name! Why didn't they call her Hope, or Flora, or Egeria,
+or Cecilia?"
+
+When the audience found that Miss Tucker's singing did not belie her
+charming appearance, they cast discretion to the winds and loved her.
+Appleton himself marveled at the beauty of her performance as it
+budded and bloomed under the inspiration of her fellow artists and the
+favor of the audience, and the more he admired the more depressed he
+became.
+
+"She may be on the threshold of a modest 'career,' of a sort, after
+all," he thought, "and she will never give it up for me. Would she be
+willing to combine me with the career, and how would it work? I
+shouldn't be churl enough to mind her singing now and then, but it
+seems to me I couldn't stand 'tours.' Besides, hers is such a
+childlike, winsome, fragrant little gift it ought not to be exploited
+like a great, booming talent!"
+
+The audience went wild over Donald Tovey's songs. He played, and Tommy
+sang them from memory, and it seemed as if they had been written then
+and there, struck off at white heat; as if the composer happened to be
+at the piano, and the singer chanced with his help to be interpreting
+those particular verses for that particular moment.
+
+His setting of "Jock o'Hazeldean" proved irresistible:
+
+                "They sought her baith by bower an ha';
+                   The ladie was not seen."
+
+And then with a swirl and a torrent of sound, a clangor of sword and a
+clatter of hoofs:
+
+                    "She's o'er the Border and awa'
+                         Wi' Jock o' Hazeldean."
+
+Appleton didn't see any valid reason why Tovey should kiss Tommy's
+hand in responding to the third recall, but supposed it must be a
+composer's privilege, and wished that he were one.
+
+Then the crowd made its way into the brilliant Torquay sunshine, and
+Appleton lingered in the streets until the time came for the tea-party
+arranged for the artists at the hotel.
+
+It was a gay little gathering, assisted by a charming lady of the
+town, who always knew the celebrated people who flock there in all
+seasons. Spalding and Tovey were the lions, but Miss Thomasina Tucker
+did not lack for compliments. Her cheeks glowed and her eyes sparkled
+under the white tulle brim of her hat. Her neck looked deliciously
+white and young, rising from its transparent chiffons, and her bunch
+of mignonette gave a note of delicate distinction. The long-haired
+gentleman was present, and turned out to be a local poet. He told Miss
+Tucker that she ought never to wear or to carry another flower. "Not,
+at all events, till you pass thirty!" he said. "You belong
+together--you, your songs, and the mignonette!"--at which she flung a
+shy upward glance at Appleton, saying: "It is this American friend who
+has really established the connection, though I have always worn green
+and white and always loved the flower."
+
+"You sent me some verses, Mr. Appleton," she said, as the poet moved
+away. "I have them safe" (and she touched her bodice), "but I haven't
+had a quiet moment to read them."
+
+"Just a little tribute," Appleton answered carelessly. "Are you
+leaving? If so, I'll get your flowers into a cab and drive you on."
+
+"No. I am going, quite unexpectedly, to Exeter to-night. Let us sit
+down in this corner a moment and I'll tell you. Mr. Tovey has asked me
+to substitute for a singer who is ill. The performance is on Monday
+and I chance to know the cantata. I shall not be paid, but it will be
+a fine audience and it may lead to something; after all, it's not out
+of my way in going to Wells."
+
+"Aren't you overtired to travel any more to-night?"
+
+"No, I am treading air! I have no sense of being in the body at all.
+Mrs. Cholmondeley, that dark-haired lady you were talking with a
+moment ago, lives in Exeter and will take me to her house. And how
+nice that I don't have to say good-bye, for you still mean to go to
+Wells?"
+
+"Oh, yes! I haven't nearly finished with the cathedral--I shall be
+there before you. Can I look up lodgings or do anything for you?"
+
+"Oh, no, thank you. I shall go to the old place where Miss Markham and
+I lived before. The bishop and Mrs. Kennion sent us there because
+there is a piano, and the old ladies, being deaf, don't mind musical
+lodgers. Didn't the concert go off beautifully! Such artists, those
+two men; so easy to do one's best in such company."
+
+"It was a triumph! Doesn't it completely efface the memory of the
+plate and the pennies?"
+
+"Yes," Tommy answered. "I bear no ill-will to any living creature. The
+only flaw is my horrid name. Can't you think of another for me? I've
+just had an anonymous note. Hear it!" (taking it from her glove):
+
+  DEAR MADAM:
+
+  The name of Thomasina Tucker is one of those bizarre
+  Americanisms that pain us so frequently in England. I fancy you
+  must have assumed it for public use, and if so, I beg you will
+  change it now, before you become too famous. The grotesque name
+  of Thomasina Tucker belittles your exquisite art.
+
+                                          Very truly yours,
+                                                 A WELL WISHER.
+
+"What do you think of that?"
+
+Appleton laughed heartily and scanned the note. "It is from some
+doddering old woman," he said. "The name given you by your sponsors in
+baptism to be condemned as a 'bizarre Americanism'!"
+
+"I cannot think why the loyalty of my dear mother and father to
+Tucker, and to Thomas, should have made them saddle me with such a
+handicap! They might have known I was going to sing, for I bawled
+incessantly from birth to the age of twelve months. I shall have to
+change my name, and you must help me to choose. Au revoir!"--and she
+darted away with a handshake and a friendly backward glance from the
+door.
+
+"Can I think of another name for her?" apostrophized Appleton to
+himself. "Can feminine unconsciousness and cruelty go farther than
+that? Another name for her shrieks from the very housetops, and I
+agree with 'Well Wisher' that she ought to take it before she becomes
+too famous; before it would be necessary, for instance, to describe
+her as Madame Tucker-Appleton!"
+
+
+VI
+
+
+These are the verses:
+
+                          TO MISS TOMMY TUCKER
+                      (WITH A BUNCH OF MIGNONETTE)
+
+                 A garden and a yellow wedge
+                    Of sunshine slipping through,
+                 And there, beside a bit of hedge,
+                    Forget-me-nots so blue,
+                 Bright four-o'clocks and spicy pinks,
+                    And sweet, old-fashioned roses,
+                 With daffodils and crocuses,
+                    And other fragrant posies,
+                 And in a corner, 'neath the shade
+                 By flowering apple branches made,
+                        Grew mignonette.
+
+                 I do not know, I cannot say,
+                    Why, when I hear you sing,
+                 Those by-gone days come back to me,
+                    And in their long train bring
+                 To mind that dear old garden, with
+                    Its hovering honey-bees,
+                 And liquid-throated songsters on
+                    The blossom-laden trees;
+                 Nor why a fragrance, fresh and rare,
+                 Should on a sudden fill the air,
+                        Of mignonette!
+
+                 Your mem'ry seems a garden fair
+                    Of old-time flowers of song.
+                 There Annie Laurie lives and loves,
+                    And Mary Morison,
+                 And Black-eyed Susan, Alice Grey,
+                    Phillida, with her frown--
+                 And Barbara Allen, false and fair,
+                    From famous Scarlet Town.
+                 What marvel such a garland rare
+                 Should breathe sweet odors on the air,
+                        Like mignonette?
+                                           F. A.
+
+
+VII
+
+
+There was never such a summer of enchanting weather as that particular
+summer in Wells. The whole population of Somersetshire, save those who
+had crops requiring rain, were in a heaven of delight from morning
+till night. Miss Tommy Tucker was very busy with some girl pupils, and
+as accompanist for oratorio practice; but there were blissful hours
+when she "studied" the cathedral with Fergus Appleton, watching him
+sketch the stately Central Tower, or the Lady Chapel, or the Chain
+Gate. There were afternoon walks to Tor Hill, winding up almost daily
+with tea at the palace, for the bishop and his wife were miracles of
+hospitality to the two Americans.
+
+Fergus Appleton had declared the state of his mind and heart to Mrs.
+Kennion a few days after his arrival, though after his confidence had
+been received she said that it was quite unnecessary, as she had
+guessed the entire situation the moment she saw them together.
+
+"If you do, it is more than Miss Tucker does," said Appleton, "for I
+can't flatter myself that she suspects in the least what I am about."
+
+"You haven't said anything yet?"
+
+"My dear Mrs. Kennion, I've known her less than a fortnight! It's bad
+enough for a man to fall in love in that absurd length of time, but I
+wouldn't ask a girl to marry me on two weeks' acquaintance. It would
+simply be courting refusal."
+
+"I am glad you feel that way about it, for we have grown greatly
+attached to Miss Tucker," said the bishop's wife. "She is so simple
+and unaffected, so lovable, and such good company! So alone in the
+world, yet so courageous and independent. I hope it will come out all
+right for your dear mother's son," she added affectionately, with a
+squeeze of her kind hand. "Miss Tucker is dining here to-morrow, and
+you must come, too, for she has offered to sing for our friends."
+
+Everybody agreed that Mrs. Kennion's party for the young American
+singer was a delightful and memorable occasion. She gave them song
+after song, accompanying herself on the Erard grand piano, at which
+she always made such a pretty picture. It drifted into a request
+programme, and Tommy, whose memory was inexhaustible, seemed always to
+have the wished-for song at the tip of her tongue, were it English,
+Scotch, Irish, or Welsh. There was general laughter and surprise when
+Madame Eriksson, a Norwegian lady who was among the guests, asked her
+for a certain song of Halfdan Kjerulf's.
+
+"I only know it in its English translation," Tommy said, "and I
+haven't sung it for a year, but I think I remember it. Forgive me if I
+halt in the words:
+
+                   "'I hardly know, my darling,
+                   What mostly took my heart,
+                   Unless perhaps your singing
+                   Has done the greater part.
+                   I've thrilled to many voices,
+                   The passionate, the strong,
+                   But I forgot the singer,
+                   And I forgot the song.
+                   But there's one song, my darling,
+                   That I can ne'er forget.
+                   I listened and I trembled,
+                   And felt my cheek was wet;
+                   It seemed my heart within me
+                   Gave answer clear and low
+                   When first I heard you sing, dear,
+                   Then first I loved you so!'"
+
+Tommy had sung the song hundreds of times in earlier years, and she
+had not the slightest self-consciousness when she began it; but just
+as she reached the last four lines her eyes met Fergus Appleton's. He
+was seated in a far corner of the room, leaning eagerly forward, with
+one arm on the back of a chair in front of him. She was singing the
+words to the company, but if ever a man was uttering and confirming
+them it was Fergus Appleton at that moment. The blindest woman could
+see, the deafest could hear, the avowal.
+
+Tommy caught her breath quickly, looked away, braced her memory, and
+finished, to the keen delight of old Madame Eriksson, who rose and
+kissed her on both cheeks.
+
+Tommy was glad that her part of the evening was over, and to cover her
+confusion offered to sing something of her own composing, the Mother
+Goose rhyme of "Little Tommy Tucker Sings for His Supper," arranged as
+an operatic recitative and aria. The humor of this performance
+penetrated even to the remotest fastnesses of the staid cathedral
+circle, and the palace party ended in something that positively
+resembled merriment, a consummation not always to be reached in
+gatherings exclusively clerical in character.
+
+The bishop's coachman always drove Miss Tucker home, and Appleton
+always walked to his lodgings, which were in the opposite direction,
+so nothing could be done that night, but he determined that another
+sun should not go down before he put his fate to the touch.
+
+How could he foresee what the morning post would bring and deposit,
+like an unwelcome bomb, upon his breakfast tray?
+
+His London publishers wanted to see him at once, not only on a
+multitude of details concerning his forthcoming book, but on a
+subject, as they hoped, of great interest and importance to him.
+
+Thinking it a matter of a day or so, Appleton scribbled notes to Mrs.
+Kennion and Miss Tucker, with whom he was to go on an excursion, and
+departed forthwith to London.
+
+Everything happened in London. The American publishers wanted a
+different title for the book and four more chapters to lengthen it to
+a size selling (at a profit) for two dollars and a half. The English
+publishers thought he had dealt rather slightingly with a certain very
+interesting period, and he remembered, guiltily, that he had been at
+Bexley Sands when he wrote the chapters in question. It would take
+three days' labor to fill up these gaps, he calculated, and how
+fortunate that Miss Thomasina Tucker was safely entrenched in the
+heart of an ecclesiastical stronghold for the next month or two; a
+town where he had not, so far as he knew, a single formidable rival.
+He wrote her regarding his unexpected engagements, adding with
+legitimate pride that one of England's foremost critics had offered to
+write a preface for his book; then he settled to his desk and slaved
+at his task until it was accomplished, when he departed with a beating
+heart for the town and county that held Miss Thomasina Tucker in their
+keeping.
+
+Alighting at the familiar railway station, he took a hansom, intending
+to drop his portmanteau at his lodgings and go on to the palace for
+news, but as he was driving by the deanery on the north side of
+Cathedral Green, he encountered Mrs. Kennion in her victoria. She
+signaled him with her hand and spoke to her coachman, who drew up his
+horses. Alighting from his hansom, he strode forward to take her
+welcoming hand, his face radiating the pleasure of a home-coming
+traveler.
+
+"If you'll let the cabman take your luggage, I'd like to drive you
+home myself. I have something to tell you," said Mrs. Kennion, making
+room for him by her side.
+
+"Nothing has happened, I hope?" he asked anxiously.
+
+"Miss Tucker is leaving for America to-morrow morning."
+
+"Going away?" Appleton's tone was one of positive dismay.
+
+"Yes. It is all very sudden and unexpected."
+
+"Sailing to-morrow?" exclaimed Appleton, taking out his watch. "From
+where? How can I get there?"
+
+"Not sailing to-morrow--leaving Wells to-morrow on an early train and
+sailing Saturday from Southampton."
+
+"Oh, the world is not lost entirely, then!"--and Appleton leaned back
+and wiped his forehead. "What has happened? I ought never to have gone
+to London."
+
+"She had a cable yesterday from her Brooklyn church, offering her a
+better position in the choir, but saying that they could hold it only
+ten days. By post on the same day she received a letter from a New
+York friend--"
+
+"Was it a Carl Bothwick?"
+
+"No; a Miss Macleod, who said that a much better position was in the
+market in a church where Miss Tucker had influential friends. She was
+sure that if Miss Tucker returned immediately to sing for the
+committee she could secure a thousand-dollar salary. We could do
+nothing but advise her to make the effort, you see."
+
+"Did she seem determined to go?"
+
+"No; she appeared a little undecided and timid. However, she said
+frankly that, though she had earned enough in England to pay her
+steamer passage to America, and a month's expenses afterward, she
+could not be certain of continuing to do so much through a London
+winter. 'If I only had a little more time to think it out,' she kept
+saying, 'but I haven't, so I must go!'"
+
+"Where is she now?"
+
+"At her lodgings. The bishop is detained in Bath and I am dining with
+friends in his stead. I thought you might go and take her to dinner at
+the Swan, so that she shouldn't be alone, and then bring her to the
+palace afterward--if--if all is well."
+
+"If I have any luck two churches will be lamenting her loss to-morrow
+morning," said Fergus gloomily; "but she wouldn't have consented to go
+if she cared anything about me!"
+
+"Nonsense, my dear boy! You were away. No self-respecting girl would
+wire you to come back. She was helpless even if she did care. Here we
+are! Shall I send a hansom back in half an hour?"
+
+"Twenty-five minutes will do it," Appleton answered briskly. "You are
+an angel, dear lady!"
+
+"Keep your blarney! I hope you'll need it all for somebody else
+to-night! Good fortune, dear boy!"
+
+
+VIII
+
+
+Appleton flung the contents of his portmanteau into his closet, rid
+himself of the dust of travel, made a quick change, and in less than
+forty minutes was at the door of Miss Tucker's lodgings.
+
+She had a little sitting-room on the first floor, and his loud
+rat-a-tat brought her to the door instead of the parlor-maid.
+
+At the unexpected sight of him she turned pale.
+
+"Why--why, I thought it was the luggage-man. Where did you come from?"
+she stammered.
+
+"From London, an hour ago. I met Mrs. Kennion on my way from the
+station."
+
+"Oh! Then she told you I am going home?"
+
+"Yes, she told me. How could you go to America without saying
+good-bye, Miss Tommy?"
+
+She flushed and looked perilously near tears.
+
+"I wrote to you this morning as soon as I had decided," she said. "I
+don't like to dart off in this way, you can imagine, but it's a
+question of must."
+
+He did not argue this with her; that was a bridge to be crossed when a
+better understanding had been reached; so, as if taking the journey as
+an inexorable fact, he said: "Come out and dine with me somewhere, and
+let us have a good talk."
+
+"I'm afraid I can't. I'm eating now on a tray in my sitting-room,"--and
+she waved a table napkin she was holding in her hand. "I am rather
+tired, and Miss Scattergood gave me some bacon and an egg from the nest."
+
+"Give the bacon to the cat and put back the egg in the nest," he said
+coaxingly. "Mrs. Kennion said: 'Don't let her eat her last dinner
+alone. Take her to the Swan.'"
+
+"Oh, I am only in my traveling-clothes and the Swan is full of
+strangers to-night."
+
+"The Green Dragon, then, near the cathedral. You look dressed for
+Buckingham Palace."
+
+She hesitated a moment, and then melted at the eagerness of his wish.
+"Well, then, if you'll wait five minutes."
+
+"Of course; I'll go along to the corner and whistle a hansom from the
+stand. Don't hurry!"
+
+The mental processes of Miss Thomasina Tucker had been very confused
+during the excitement of the last twenty-four hours.
+
+That she loved Fergus Appleton she was well aware since the arrival of
+the cablegram calling her back to America. Up to that time she had
+fenced with her love--parried it, pricked it, thrust it off, drawn it
+back, telling herself that she had plenty of time to meet the issue if
+it came. That Fergus Appleton loved her she was also fairly well
+convinced, but that fact did not always mean--everything--she told
+herself, with a pitiful little attempt at worldly wisdom. Perhaps he
+preferred his liberty to any woman; perhaps he did not want to settle
+down; perhaps he was engaged to some one whom he didn't care for now,
+but would have to marry; perhaps he hadn't money enough to share with
+a wife; perhaps he was a flirt--no, she would not admit that for an
+instant. Anyway, she was alone in the world, and the guardian of her
+own dignity. If she could have allowed matters to drift along in the
+heavenly uncertainty of these last days, there would have been no
+problem; but when she was forced to wake from her delicious dream and
+fly from everything that held her close and warm, fly during Fergus
+Appleton's absence, without his knowledge or consent--that indeed was
+heart-breaking. And still her pride showed her but the one course. She
+was alone in the world and without means save those earned by her own
+exertions. A living income was offered her in America and she must
+take it or leave it on the instant. She could not telegraph Fergus
+Appleton in London and acquaint him with her plans, as if they
+depended on him for solution; she could only write him a warm and
+friendly good-bye. If he loved her as much as a man ought who loved at
+all, he had time to follow her to Southampton before her ship sailed.
+If business kept him from such a hurried journey, he could ask her to
+marry him in a sixpenny wire, reply paid. If he neither came nor
+wired, but sent a box of mignonette to the steamer with his card and
+"Bon voyage" written on it, she would bury something unspeakably dear
+and precious that had only just been born--bury it, and plant
+mignonette over it. And she could always sing! Thank Heaven for the
+gift of song!
+
+This was Tommy's mood when she was packing her belongings, after
+hearing the bishop say that Appleton could not return till noon next
+day. It had changed a trifle by the time that Fergus had gone to the
+corner to whistle for a hansom. Her gray frieze jacket and skirt were
+right enough when she hastily slipped on a better blouse with a deep
+embroidered collar, pinned with Helena Markham's parting gift of an
+emerald clover-leaf. Her gray straw hat had a becoming band of flat
+green leaves, and she had a tinge of color. (Nothing better for roses
+in the cheeks than hurrying to be ready for the right man.) Anyway,
+such beauty as Tommy had was always there, and when she came to the
+door she smote Appleton's eyes as if she were "the first beam from the
+springing east."
+
+Once in the hansom, they talked gayly. They dared not stop, indeed,
+for when they kept on whipping the stream they forgot the depth of the
+waters underneath.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+Meantime the Green Dragon, competitor of the Swan, had great need of
+their lavish and interesting patronage.
+
+The Swiss head waiter, who was new to Wells, was a man of waxed
+mustaches and sleepless ambitions. The other hotels had most of the
+tourists, but he intended to retrieve the fortunes of his employer,
+and bring prosperity back to the side streets. He adored his vocation,
+and would have shed his heart's blood on the altar of any dining-room
+of which he had charge.
+
+There were nine tables placed about the large room, though not more
+than three had been occupied in his tenure of office; but all were
+beautifully set with flowers and bright silver and napkins in
+complicated foldings. Pasteboard cards with large black numbers from
+one to eight stood erect on eight of the tables, and on the ninth an
+imposing placard bore the sign:
+
+                                ENGAGED
+
+in letters two inches high, giving the idea that a hungry crowd was
+waiting to surge in and take the seats.
+
+The second man, trained within an inch of his life, had been already
+kindled by the enthusiasm of his superior, and shared his vigils.
+
+This very evening there had been hopes deferred and sickened hearts
+over the indifference of the public to a menu fit for a king. Were
+there not consomme royale, filet of sole, maitre d'hotel, poulet en
+casserole, pommes de terres sautes, haricots verts, and a wonderful
+Camembert? A savory could be inserted in an instant, and a sweet
+arranged in the twinkling of an eye.
+
+"A carriage, Walter! Prepare!"
+
+Both flew silently to the window.
+
+"Two ladies; ah, they are not alighting! They wish to know if there is
+evening service in the cathedral."
+
+"A gentleman, Walter! In a four-wheeler!"
+
+"No, he dines not. He has come to request his umbrella of the
+porter."
+
+"A hansom, Walter!"
+
+"Ah, they alight. She is of an elegance unmistakable. They are young
+married ones, and will dine well. Hasten, Walter, and order both sweet
+and savory!"
+
+Fergus and Tommy looked about the cozy room with pleasure as they
+entered, receiving the salute of Gustave and the English bow of Walter
+as tributes to their deep, unspoken hopes.
+
+"Where will you sit, Miss Tucker?" asked Appleton, and as he spoke his
+quick eye observed the "Engaged" placard, and with lightning dexterity
+he steered his guest toward that table. (There _was_ an opening, if
+you like!) Not quick enough for Tommy, though, for she had seen it and
+dropped into a seat several feet away, declaring its position was
+perfect. Gustave put menus before his distinguished clients with a
+flourish, and indicated the wine card as conspicuously as was
+consistent with good form. Then he paused and made mental notes of the
+situation.
+
+"Ah, very good, very good," murmured Appleton. "You might move the
+flowers, please; they rather hide--the view; and bring the soup,
+please."
+
+"Very young married ones!" thought Gustave, summoning his slave and
+retiring to a point where he could watch the wine card. Walter brought
+the consomme, and then busied himself at the other tables. They would
+never be occupied, but it was just as well to pretend, so he set
+hideous colored wine-glasses, red, green, and amber, at the various
+places, and polished them ostentatiously with a clean napkin in the
+hope that the gentleman would experience a desire for liquid
+refreshment.
+
+"This is very jolly, and very unexpected," said Appleton.
+
+"It is, indeed."
+
+"I hope you don't miss the nest-egg."
+
+"You mustn't call it a nest-egg! That's a stale thing, or a china one
+that they leave in, I don't know why--for an example, or a pattern, or
+a suggestion," said Tommy, laughing. "An egg from the nest is Miss
+Scattergood's phrase, and it means a new-laid one."
+
+"Oh, I see!--well, do you regret it?"
+
+"Certainly not, with this sumptuous repast just beginning!"
+
+"You always give me an appetite," exclaimed Appleton.
+
+"It's a humble function, but not one to be despised," Tommy answered
+mischievously, fencing, fencing every minute, with her heart beating
+against her ribs like a sledge-hammer.
+
+Walter brought the fish and solicitously freed the wine card that had
+somehow crept under a cover of knives and forks.
+
+"I beg ten thousand pardons. What will you drink, Miss Tucker? We must
+have a drop of something to cheer us at a farewell dinner. Here is a
+vintage champagne, a good honest wine that will hearten us up and
+leave no headache in its train."
+
+"I couldn't to-night, Mr. Appleton; I really couldn't."
+
+"Then I refuse to be exhilarated alone," said Fergus gallantly; "and
+you always have the effect of champagne on me anyway. I decline to say
+good-bye. I can't even believe it is 'au revoir' between us. We had
+such delightful days ahead, and so many plans."
+
+"Yes; it isn't nice to make up your mind so suddenly that it turns
+everything topsy-turvy," sighed Tommy--"I won't have any meat, thank
+you."
+
+Walter looked distinctly grieved. "I can recommend the
+pulley-ong-cazzerole, miss, and there's potatoes sortey with it."
+
+Tommy's appetite kindled at the sound of his accent, and she relented.
+"Yes, I'll have a small portion, please, after all."
+
+"When friends are together the world seems very small, and when they
+are separated it becomes a space too vast for human comprehension--I
+think I've heard that before, but it's true," said Appleton.
+
+"Yes," Tommy answered, for lack of anything better to say.
+
+"It seems as if we had known each other for years."
+
+"And it is less than three weeks," was Tommy's contribution to the
+lagging conversation.
+
+"The bishop offered me a letter of introduction to you when he wrote
+me at the Bexley Sands Inn, you remember, but he added in a postscript
+that in case of accident he was not to be held responsible. Rather
+cryptic, I thought--at the time."
+
+"A little Commonburg, sir?" asked Walter. "It is a very fine ripe one,
+and we have some fresh water-cress."
+
+"'Commonburg,' Miss Tucker? No? Then bring the coffee, please."
+
+A desperate silence fell between them, they who had talked unendingly
+for days and evenings!
+
+When Walter brought the tray with the coffee-pot and the two little
+cups, Appleton suddenly pushed his chair back, saying: "Let us take
+our coffee over by the window, shall we, and perhaps I may have a
+cigarette later? Don't light the gas, waiter--we want to see the hills
+and the afterglow."
+
+There was no avoiding it; Appleton and the waiter conveyed Tommy
+helplessly over to a table commanding the view and the sunset, and it
+was the one on which the huge "Engaged" placard reared itself
+persuasively and suggestively.
+
+"We shall need nothing more, waiter; you may go; I think this will
+cover the bill,"--and scorning the chair opposite Tommy, Appleton
+seated himself beside her.
+
+"You have turned your back to the afterglow," she said, as she reached
+forward to move "Engaged" to a position a trifle less obvious.
+
+"I don't care tuppence about the afterglow," and Appleton covered her
+hand with his own. "Make it come true, dear, dear Tommy! Make it come
+true!"
+
+"What?" she asked, between a smile and a tear.
+
+"The placard, dear, the placard! If you should travel the world over,
+you couldn't find a man who loves you as I do."
+
+"What would be the use in my traveling about to find another man when
+I am so satisfied with this one?" whispered Tommy. "Oh, remember! they
+may come back at any moment!"
+
+"I will, I will, if only I may have the comfort of holding your hand
+after all my miserable doubts! I never knew what companionship meant
+before I met you! I never really cared about life until now."
+
+"I have always cared about it, but never like this," confessed Tommy.
+"You see, I have always been alone, ever since I grew up."
+
+"And I! How wonderful of Fate to bring us together! And will you let
+me cable to the churches that you cannot come home just yet?"
+
+"You think I'd better not go--so soon?"
+
+"Without me? Never! You shall go anywhere you like, any time you like,
+so long as you take me with you. We'll settle all those things
+to-morrow--the blessedest day that ever dawned, that's what to-morrow
+will be! Couldn't you marry me to-morrow, Tommy?"
+
+"Certainly not! At any rate--not in the morning!" said Tommy
+mischievously, withdrawing her hand and moving out of the danger
+zone.
+
+"And you must remember that your talent is your own, to use as you
+like!" Appleton continued after a well-filled pause. "Your voice is a
+unique and precious gift. I'll try not to be selfish with it, or
+jealous of it, though if it had half the effect on other men that it
+has upon me, the floor would be strewn with broken hearts every time
+you sing!"--and he hummed under his breath:
+
+                      "I hardly know, my darling,
+                      What mostly took my heart,
+                      Unless perhaps your singing
+                      Has done the greater part."
+
+"Oh, you dear absurdity!" said Tommy, twinkling and sparkling
+enchantingly.--"I wish the waiter wouldn't come in every time I want
+to say something especially private!"
+
+"'Confound his politics, frustrate his knavish tricks,' but we shall
+soon be out of his reach, spinning along to the palace."
+
+"Are we going there? Oh! I shall be afraid to tell the bishop and Mrs.
+Kennion!"
+
+"You needn't be. I told Mrs. Kennion this afternoon that I loved you
+to distraction. If the bishop is back from Bath, she'll have passed on
+the information by now."
+
+"I was just going to say, when the waiter came so near, that it isn't
+the public I love, it's the singing! Just to sing and sing, that's
+what I long to do!"
+
+"And what you shall do, so help me! You know you wanted me to find a
+new name for you? Wasn't I clever to think of Appleton?"
+
+"Very! And you're kindly freeing me of half of my 'bizarre
+Americanism,' as my Torquay correspondent called it. How shall we deal
+with Thomasina?"
+
+"We'll call her Tommy. A darling, kissable little name, Tommy!--No,
+I'm not going to do anything!"
+
+"You don't think it's cowardly of me to marry you?"
+
+"Cowardly?"
+
+"Yes, when I haven't actually proved that I can earn my living; at
+least, I haven't done it long enough, or well enough, yet."
+
+"I think it's brave of you to marry me."
+
+"Brave?"
+
+"To turn your back on a possible career."
+
+"It's not the 'careering' that I love; though it will seem very
+strange when Tommy Tucker doesn't have to sing for her supper!--Shall
+we go? The waiter is coming in again. I believe he thinks we are going
+to run off with the spoons!"
+
+"So we are! At least, when we go, the spoons will go! I know it's a
+poor joke, but I am too happy to be brilliant. Call the head waiter,
+please,"--this to Walter, who despaired of ever getting rid of his
+guests, and was agreeably disappointed that a gentleman who had not
+ordered wine should ask for Gustave.
+
+Appleton took the "Engaged" placard off the table and used it
+nonchalantly as a fan in crossing the room. Then as he drew near the
+men he slipped two gold pieces into Tommy's hand.
+
+"May I carry away this placard, waiter?" he asked, as if it were quite
+a sane request. "I've taken a fancy to it as a souvenir of a most
+delightful and memorable dinner."
+
+"Assuredly, assuredly!" murmured Gustave. He knew that there was
+romance in the air, although he did not perceive the exact point of
+Appleton's request.
+
+"The young lady will reward you for your courtesy. No; I'll help with
+her jacket, thank you."
+
+Tommy, overcome with laughter and confusion and blushes, pressed the
+gold pieces into the hands of the astonished waiters, who bowed almost
+to the floor.
+
+"You are always giving me sovereigns, dear Fergus," she whispered with
+a laugh and something like a sob, as they drove along in the delicious
+nearness provided by the hansom.
+
+"Never mind," said Fergus. "You will be giving me one when you marry
+me!"
+
+
+
+
+THE TURNING-POINT
+
+
+Not far from the village of Bonny Eagle, on the west bank of the Saco,
+stood two little low-roofed farmhouses; the only two that had survived
+among others of the same kind that once dotted the green brink of the
+river.
+
+Long years before, in 1795 or thereabouts, there had been a cluster of
+log houses on this very spot, known then as the Dalton Right
+Settlement, and these in turn had been succeeded at a later date by
+the more comfortable frame-roof farmhouses of the period.
+
+In the old days, before the sound of the axe for the first time
+disturbed the stillness of the forest, the otter swam in the shadowy
+coves near the shore and the beaver built his huts near by. The red
+deer came down to dip his antlers and cool his flanks in the still
+shallows. The speckled grouse sat on her nest in the low pine boughs,
+while her mate perched on the mossy logs by the riverside unmolested.
+
+The Sokokis built their bark wigwams here and there on the bank,
+paddling their birch canoes over the river's smooth surface, or
+threading the foamy torrents farther down its course.
+
+Here was the wonderful spring that fed, and still feeds, Aunt Judy's
+Brook, the most turbulent little stream in the county. Many a moccasin
+track has been made in the soft earth around the never-failing
+fountain, and many the wooden bucket lowered into its crystal depths
+by the Dalton Righters when in their turn they possessed the land.
+
+The day of the Indian was over now, and the day of the farmer who
+succeeded him was over, too. The crash of the loom and the whir of the
+spinning-wheel were heard no longer, but Amanda Dalton,
+spinster,--descendant of the original Tristram Dalton, to whom the
+claim belonged,--sat on alone in her house, and not far away sat Caleb
+Kimball, sole living heir of the original Caleb, himself a Dalton
+Righter, and contemporary of Tristram Dalton.
+
+Neither of these personages took any interest in pedigree or
+genealogy. They knew that their ancestors had lived and died on the
+same acres now possessed by them, but the acres had dwindled sadly,
+and the ancestors had seemingly left little for which to be grateful.
+Indeed, in Caleb's case they had been a distinct disadvantage, since
+the local sense of humor, proverbially strong in York County, had
+always preserved a set of Kimball stories among its most cherished
+possessions. Some of them might have been forgotten in the century and
+a half that had elapsed, if the Caleb of our story had not been the
+inheritor of certain family traits famous in their day and
+generation.
+
+Caleb the first had been the "cuss" of his fellow farmers, because in
+coming from Scarboro to join the Dalton Righters he had brought
+whiteweed with the bundle of hay for his cattle when he was clearing
+the land. The soil of this particular region must have been especially
+greedy for, and adapted to, this obnoxious grass-killer, for it
+flourished as in no other part of the county; flourishes yet,
+indeed--though, if one can forget that its presence means poor feed
+for cattle where might be a crop of juicy hay, the blossoming fields
+of the old Dalton Settlement look, in early June, the loveliest, most
+ethereal, in New England. There, a million million feathery daisies
+sway and dance in the breeze, lifting their snowy wheels to the blue
+June sky. There they grow and thrive, the slender green stalks tossing
+their pearly disks among sister groves of buttercups till the eye is
+fairly dazzled with the symphony of white and gold. The back-aching
+farmers of the original Dalton Settlement had indeed tried to root out
+the lovely pests, but little did our Caleb care! If he had ever trod
+his ancestral acres either for pleasure or profit he might in time
+have "stomped out" the whiteweed, so the neighbors said, for he had
+the family foot, the size of an anvil; but he much preferred a
+sedentary life, and the whiteweed went on seeding itself from year to
+year.
+
+Caleb was tall, loose-jointed, and black as a thunder-cloud--the
+swarthy skin, like the big foot, having been bequeathed to him by the
+original Caleb, whose long-legged, shaggy-haired sons had been known
+as "Caleb's colts." Tall and black, all of them, the "colts," so black
+that the village wits said the Kimball children must have eaten smut
+and soot and drunk cinder tea during the years their parents were
+clearing the land. Tall and black also were all the Kimball daughters,
+so tall it was their boast to be able to look out over the tops of the
+window curtains; and proud enough of their height to cry with rage
+when any rival Amazon came into the neighborhood.
+
+Whatever else they were or were not, however, the Kimballs had always
+been industrious and frugal. It had remained for the last scion of the
+old stock to furnish a byword for slackness. In a village where
+stories of outlandish, ungodly, or supernatural laziness were sacredly
+preserved from year to year, Caleb Kimball's indolence easily took the
+palm. His hay commonly went to seed in the field. His cow yielded her
+morning's milk about noon, and her evening "mess" was taken from her
+(when she was lucky) by the light of a lantern. He was a bachelor of
+forty-five, dwelt alone, had no visitors and made his living, such as
+it was, off the farm, with the help of a rack-o'-bones horse. He had
+fifty acres of timber-land, and when his easy-going methods of farming
+found him without money he simply sold a few trees.
+
+The house and barn were gradually falling into ruins; the farm
+implements stood in the yard all winter, and the sleigh all summer.
+The gate flapped on its hinges, the fences were broken down, and the
+stone walls were full of gaps. His pipe, and a snarling rough-haired
+dog, were his only companions. Hour after hour he sat on the side
+steps looking across the sloping meadows that separated his place from
+Amanda Dalton's; hour after hour he puffed his pipe and gazed on the
+distant hills and the sparkling river; gazed and gazed--whether he saw
+anything or thought anything, remembered anything, or even dreamed
+anything, nobody could guess, not even Amanda Dalton, who was good at
+guessing, having very few other mental recreations to keep her
+mother-wit alive.
+
+Caleb Kimball, as seen on his doorstep from Amanda Dalton's sink
+window, was but a speck, to be sure, but he was her nearest neighbor;
+if a person whose threshold you never cross, and who never crosses
+yours, can be called a neighbor. There were seldom or never meetings
+or greetings between the two, yet each unconsciously was very much
+alive to the existence of the other. In days or evenings of solitude
+one can make neighbors of very curious things.
+
+The smoke of Amanda's morning fire cried "Shame" to Caleb's when it
+issued languidly from his kitchen chimney an hour later. Amanda's
+smoke was like herself, and betokened the brisk fire she would be
+likely to build; Caleb's showed wet wood, poor draught, a fallen brick
+in the chimney.
+
+Later on in the morning Caleb's dog would sometimes saunter down the
+road and have a brief conversation with Amanda's cat. They were
+neither friends nor enemies, but merely enlivened a deadly, dull
+existence with a few casual remarks on current topics.
+
+Once Caleb had possessed a flock of hens, but in the course of a few
+years they had dwindled to one lonely rooster, who stalked gloomily
+through the wilderness of misplaced objects in the Kimball yard, and
+wondered why he had been born.
+
+Amanda pitied him, and flung him a surreptitious handful of corn from
+her apron pocket when she met him walking dejectedly in the road
+halfway between the two houses. So encouraged he extended his rambles,
+and one afternoon Amanda, looking out of her window, saw him stop at
+her gate and hold a tete-a-tete with one of her Plymouth Rock hens.
+The interview was brief but effective. In a twinkling he had told her
+of his miserable life and his abject need of sympathy.
+
+"There are times," he said, "when, I give you my word, I would rather
+be stewed for dinner than lead my present existence! It is weak for me
+to trouble you with my difficulties, but you have always understood me
+from the first."
+
+"Say no more," she replied. "I am a woman and pity is akin to love.
+The fowls of Amanda Dalton's flock do not need me as you do. Eleven
+eggs a day are laid here regularly, and I will go where my egg will be
+a daily source of pleasure and profit."
+
+"The coop is draughty and the corn scarce," confessed the rooster,
+doing his best to be noble.
+
+"I am of the sex created especially to supply companionship," returned
+the hen, "therefore I will accompany you, regardless of personal
+inconvenience."
+
+Amanda saw the departure of the eloping couple and pursued them not.
+
+"Land sakes!" she exclaimed, "if any male thing hereabouts has sprawl
+enough to go courtin' I'm willin' to encourage 'em. She'll miss her
+clean house and good food, I guess, but I ain't sure. She's
+'women-folks' after all, and I shouldn't wonder a mite but she'd take
+real comfort in makin' things pleasanter up there for that pindlin',
+God-forsaken old rooster! She'll have her hands full, but there, I
+know what 'tis to get along with empty ones!"
+
+There were not many such romances or comedies as these to enliven
+Amanda's mornings. Then afternoon would slip into twilight, darkness
+would creep over the landscape, and Amanda's light--clear, steady,
+bright, serene--would gleam from its place on the sink shelf through
+the kitchen window, over the meadow, "up to Kimball's." It was such a
+light as would stream from a well-trimmed lamp with a crystal clean
+chimney, but it met with small response from its neighbor's light
+during many months of the year. In late autumn and winter there would
+be a fugitive candle gleam upstairs in the Kimball house, and on
+stormy evenings a dull, smoky light in the living-room.
+
+From the illumination in the Dalton sink window, Caleb thought Amanda
+sat in the kitchen evenings, but she didn't. She said she kept the
+second light there because she could afford it, and because the cat
+liked it. The cat enjoyed the black haircloth sofa in the
+sitting-room, afternoons, but she greatly preferred the kitchen for
+evening use; it made a change, and the high-backed cushioned rocker
+was then vacant. Amanda had nobody to consider but the cat, so she
+naturally deferred to her in every possible way. It was bad for the
+cat's character, but at least it kept Amanda from committing suicide,
+so what would you? Here was a woman of insistent, unflagging, unending
+activity. Amanda Dalton had energy enough to attend to a husband and
+six children--cook, wash, iron, churn, sew, nurse--and she lived alone
+with a cat. The village was a mile, and her nearest female neighbor,
+the Widow Thatcher, a half-mile away. She had buried her only sister
+in Lewiston years before, and she had not a relation in the world. All
+her irrepressible zeal went into the conduct of her house and plot of
+ground. Day after day, week after week, year after year, the
+established routine was carried through. First the washing of the
+breakfast dishes and the putting to rights of the kitchen, which was
+radiantly clean before she began upon it. Next her bedroom; the
+stirring-up of the cornhusk mattress, the shaking of the bed of live
+geese feathers, the replacing of cotton sheets, homespun blankets, and
+blue-and-white counterpane. Next came the sitting-room with its tall,
+red, flag-bottomed chairs, its two-leaved table, its light stand that
+held the Bible and work-basket and lamp. The chest of drawers and tall
+clock were piously dusted, and the frames of the Family Register,
+"Napoleon Crossing the Alps," and "Maidens Welcoming Washington in the
+Streets of Alexandria," were carefully wiped off. Once a week the
+parlor was cleaned, the tarlatan was lifted from the two plaster
+Samuels on the mantelpiece, their kneeling forms were cleaned with a
+damp cloth, the tarlatan replaced, and the parlor closed again
+reverently. There was kindling to chop, wood to bring in, the modest
+cooking, washing, ironing, and sewing to do, the flower-beds to weed,
+and the little vegetable garden to keep in order.
+
+But Amanda had a quick foot, a neat hand, a light touch, and a
+peculiar faculty of "turning off" work so that it simply would not
+last through the day. Why did she never think of going to the nearest
+city and linking her powers with those of some one who would put them
+to larger uses? Simply because no one ever did that sort of thing in
+Bonny Eagle in those days. Girls crowded out of home by poverty sought
+employment here and there, but that a woman of forty, with a good home
+and ten acres of land--to say nothing of coupon bonds that yielded a
+hundred dollars a year in cash--that such a one should seek a larger
+field in a strange place, would have been thought flying in the face
+of Providence, as well as custom.
+
+Outside Bonny Eagle, in the roar and din and clamor of cities, were
+all sorts of wrongs that needed righting, wounds that cried out to be
+healed. There were motherless children, there were helpless sufferers
+moaning for the sight of a green field, but the superfluous females of
+Amanda Dalton's day had not awakened to any sense of responsibility
+with regard to their unknown brothers and sisters.
+
+Amanda was a large-hearted woman. She would have shared her soda
+biscuit, her bean soup, her dandelion greens, her hogshead cheese, her
+boiled dinner, her custard pie, with any hungry mortal, but no one in
+Bonny Eagle needed bite nor sup. Therefore she feather-stitched her
+dish-towels, piled her kindling in a "wheel pattern" in the shed,
+named her hens and made friends of them, put fourteen tucks in her
+unbleached cotton petticoats, and fried a pancake every Saturday for
+her cat.
+
+"It's either that or blow your brains out, if you've got a busy mind!"
+she said grimly to Susan Benson, her best friend, who was passing a
+Saturday afternoon with her. It was chilly and they liked the cheerful
+warmth of the Saturday fire that was baking the beans and steaming the
+brown bread.
+
+Susan unrolled her patchwork and, giving a flip to the cat with her
+thimble finger, settled herself comfortably in the kitchen rocker.
+
+The cat leaped down and stalked into the next room with an air of
+offended majesty, as much as to say: "Of all the manners I ever saw,
+that woman has the worst! She contrives to pass by three empty chairs
+and choose the one I chance to be occupying!"
+
+"You wouldn't be so lonesome if you could see a bit of life from your
+house, Mandy," said Mrs. Benson. "William an' I were sayin' last night
+you'd ought to move into the village winters, though nothin' could be
+handsomer than the view from your sink window this minute. Daisies,
+daisies everywhere! How do you manage to keep 'em out o' your place,
+Mandy, when they're so thick on Caleb Kimball's?"
+
+"I just root an' root, an' keep on rootin'," Amanda responded
+cheerfully, "though I don't take a mite o' pride out of it, for the
+better my place looks the worse his does, by comparison."
+
+"It is a sight!" said Mrs. Benson, standing for a moment by the sink
+and looking up to Kimball's.
+
+"I went up there one night after dark, when I knew Caleb 'd gone to
+Hixam, an' I patched up some o' the holes in his stone wall, thinkin'
+his whiteweed seeds wouldn't blow through quite so thick!"--and Amanda
+joined Mrs. Benson at the window. "I'd 'a' done a day's work on his
+side o' the wall as lief as not, only I knew folks would talk if they
+saw me."
+
+"Land, no, they wouldn't, Mandy. Everybody knows you wouldn't take him
+if he was the last man on earth; an' as for Caleb, I guess he wouldn't
+marry any woman above ground, not if she was a seraphim. I used to
+think he'd spunk up some time or other, when he got over his mother's
+death; but it's too late now, I'm afraid."
+
+"Caleb set great store by his mother; that's one good thing about
+him," said Amanda.
+
+"He did for certain," agreed Mrs. Benson. "If that girl he was engaged
+to hadn't 'a' spoken disrespectful to her in his hearin' there'd 'a'
+been a wife an' children up there now an' the place would 'a' looked
+diff'rent."
+
+"Not so very diff'rent! He didn't lose much in Eliza Johnson. I guess
+he knows that by now!" remarked Amanda serenely; "though I s'pose 't
+was quarrelin' with her that set him runnin' down hill, all the
+same."
+
+"I never thought he cared anything about Eliza. She was determined to
+have him, an' he was too lazy to say no, but you see in the end she
+only got her labor for her pains. The Kimball boys never had any luck
+with their love affairs. When Caleb an' his mother was left alone, she
+was terrible anxious for him to marry. She was allers findin' girls
+for him, but part of 'em wouldn't look at him, and he wouldn't make up
+to any of 'em."
+
+"I was livin' in Lewiston those years," said Amanda.
+
+"I remember you was. Well, when old Mrs. Kimball broke her arm,
+Charles, the youngest son, that was a stage-driver, determined he'd
+get somebody for Caleb, for his own wife wouldn't lift her finger to
+help 'bout the house. He saw a girl up to Steep Falls that he kind o'
+liked the looks of, an' he offered her a ride down to his mother's to
+spend the day, thinkin' if the family liked her she might do for
+Caleb. However, her eyes was weak an' she didn't know how to milk, so
+they thought she'd better go home by train. That would 'a' been fair
+enough for both parties, but when Charles drove her to the station he
+charged her fifteen cents an' it made an awful sight o' talk. She had
+a hot temper, an' she kind o' resented it!"
+
+"I dare say 't wa'n't so," commented Amanda; "but everybody's dead
+that could deny it, except Caleb, and he wouldn't take the trouble."
+
+"It's one of the days when he's real drove, ain't it?" asked Susan
+sarcastically, as she looked across the field to the wood-pile where a
+gray-shirted figure sat motionless. "If ever a man needed a wife to
+patch the seat of his pants, it's Caleb Kimball! I guess it's the only
+part of his clothes he ever wears out. He wa'n't like that before his
+mother died; the wheels seemed to stop in him then an' there. He was
+queer an' strange an' shy, but I never used to think he'd develop into
+a reg'lar hermit. She'd turn in her grave, Mis' Kimball would, to see
+him look as he does. I don't s'pose he gets any proper nourishment.
+The smartest man in the world won't take the trouble to make pie for
+himself, yet he'll eat it 's long 's he can stan' up! Caleb's mother
+was a great pie-baker. I can see her now, shovelin' 'em in an' out o'
+the oven Saturdays, with her three great black lanky boys standin'
+roun' waitin' for 'em to cool off.--'Only _one_, mother?' Caleb used
+to say, kind o' wheedlin'ly, while she laughed up at him leanin'
+against the door-frame.--'What's one blueb'ry pie amongst me?'"
+
+"He must 'a' had some fun in him once," smiled Amanda.
+
+"They say women-folks ain't got no sense o' humor," remarked Mrs.
+Benson, with a twitch of her thread. "I notice the men that live
+_without_ 'em don't seem to have any! We may not amount to much, but
+we're somethin' to laugh _at_."
+
+"Why don't you bake him a pie now an' then, an' send it up, Susan?"
+asked Amanda.
+
+"Well, there, I don't feel I hardly know him well enough, though
+William does. I dare say he wouldn't like it, an' he'd never think to
+return the plate, so far away.--Besides, there never _is_ an extry pie
+in a house where there's a man an' three boys; which reminds me I've
+got to go home an' make one for breakfast, with nothin' to make it out
+of."
+
+"I could lend you a handful o' dried plums."
+
+"Thank you; I'll take 'em an' much obliged. I declare it seems to me,
+now the rhubarb's 'bout gone, as if the apples on the trees never
+would fill out enough to drop off. There does come a time in the early
+summer, after you're sick of mince, 'n' squash, 'n' punkin, 'n'
+cranberry, 'n' rhubarb, 'n' custard, 'n' 't ain't time for currant, or
+green apple, or strawb'ry, or raspb'ry, or blackb'ry--there does come
+a time when it seems as if Providence might 'a' had a little more
+ingenuity in plannin' pie-fillin'!--You might bake a pie for Caleb now
+an' then yourself, Mandy; you're so near."
+
+"Mrs. Thatcher lives half a mile away," replied Amanda; "but I
+couldn't carry Caleb Kimball a pie without her knowin' it an' makin'
+remarks. I'd bake one an' willin' if William 'd take it to him; but
+there, 't would only make him want another. He's made his bed an' he's
+got to lie on it."
+
+"He _lays_ on his bed sure enough, an' most o' the time probably--but
+do you believe he ever makes it?"
+
+Amanda shuddered. "I don't know, Susan; it's one o' the things that
+haunts me; whether he makes it or whether he don't."
+
+"Do you ever see any wash hung out?" Mrs. Benson's needle stopped in
+midair while she waited for Amanda's answer.
+
+"Ye-es; now an' then."
+
+"What kind?"
+
+"Sheets; once a gray blanket; underclothes; but naturally I don't look
+when they're hung out. He generally puts 'em on the grass, anyway."
+
+"Well, it's a sin for a man to live so in a Christian country, an' the
+kindest thing to say about him is that he's crazy. Some o' the men
+folks over to the store declare he is crazy; but William declares he
+ain't. He says he's asleep. William kind o' likes him. Does he ever
+pass the time o' day with you?"
+
+"Hardly ever. I meet him once or twice a year, maybe, in the road. He
+bows when I go past on an errand an' holds on to his dog when he tries
+to run out an' bite me."
+
+"That's real kind o' gentlemanly," observed Susan.
+
+"I never thought of it that way," said Amanda absently; "but perhaps
+it is. All I can say is, Caleb Kimball's a regular thorn in my flesh.
+I can't do anything for him, an' I can't forget him, right under foot
+as he is--his land joinin' mine. Mornin', noon, an' night for years
+I've wanted to get into that man's house an' make it decent for him;
+wanted to milk the cow the right time o' day; feed the horse; weed the
+garden; scrub the floor; wash the windows; black the stove."
+
+"How you do go on, Mandy!" exclaimed Mrs. Benson. "What diff'rence
+does it make to you how dirty he is, so long's you're clean?"
+
+"It does make a diff'rence, an' it always will. I hate to see the
+daisies growin' so thick, knowin' how he needs hay. I want to root 'em
+out same's I did mine, after I'd been away three years in Lewiston. I
+hate to take my pot o' beans out o' the oven Saturday nights an' know
+he ain't had gumption enough to get himself a Christian meal. Livin'
+alone 's I do, Susan, things 'bulk up' in my mind bigger'n they'd
+ought to."
+
+"They do so," agreed Susan; "an' you mustn't let 'em. You must come
+over to our house oftener. You know William loves to have you, an' so
+do the boys. The Bible may insinuate we are our brother's keeper, but
+we can't none of us help it if he won't _be_ kept!--There, I must be
+gettin' home. I've had considerable many reminders the last half-hour
+that it's about time! It's none o' my business, Mandy, but you do
+spoil that cat, an' the time's not far off when he won't be a mite o'
+comfort to you. Of course, I'm too intimate here to take offense, but
+if the minister should happen to set in this chair when he calls, an'
+see that cat promenade round an' round the rockers an' then rustle off
+into the settin'-room as mad as Cuffy, he'd certainly take notice an'
+think he wa'n't a welcome visitor."
+
+"Like mistress, like cat!" sighed Amanda. "Tristram an' I get awful
+set in our ways."
+
+"Kind o' queer, Mandy, namin' a cat for your grandfather," Mrs. Benson
+observed anxiously as she opened the door. "William an' me don't want
+you to get queer."
+
+"I ain't got anything better 'n a cat to name for grandfather," said
+poor Amanda, in a tone that set her friend Susan thinking as she
+walked homeward.
+
+The summer wore along and there came a certain Tuesday different from
+all the other Tuesdays in that year, or in all the forty years that
+had gone before--a Tuesday when the Kimball side door was not opened
+in the morning. No smoke issued from the chimney all day. The rooster
+and his kidnapped hen flew up from the steps and pecked at the door
+panels vigorously. Seven o'clock in the evening came, then eight, and
+no light to be seen anywhere. The dog howled; the horse neighed; the
+cow lowed ominously in the closed barn. At nine o'clock Amanda took a
+lantern and sped across the field, found a pail in the shed, slipped
+into the barn, milked the cow, gave the beasts hay and water, and
+leaving the pail of milk on the steps, went quietly home again,
+anxious lest she had done too much, anxious also lest she had not done
+enough.
+
+Next morning she stationed herself at her kitchen window and took
+account of her signs. The milk-pail was overturned on the steps, the
+rooster and hen perching on the rim, but there was no smoke coming
+from the chimney. She thought quickly as she did everything else. She
+waited long enough to make a cup of coffee, then she slipped out of
+her door and up to Kimball's. Her apron was full of kindling, and on
+her arm she carried a basket with a package of herbs, a tiny bottle of
+brandy, one of cologne, some arrowroot and matches, a cake of hard
+soap and a clean towel, bones for the dog and corn for the hen.
+
+Caleb's door was unlocked. The dog came out of the shed evincing no
+desire to bark or bite. The kitchen was empty, and--she thanked the
+Lord silently, as she gave a hasty glance about--not as dreadful as
+she had anticipated. Untidy beyond words, bare, dreary, cheerless, but
+not repulsively dirty. She stole softly through the lower part of the
+house, and then with a beating heart went up the uncarpeted stairs. At
+the head was an open door that showed her all she expected and feared
+to find. The sun streamed in at the dusty, uncurtained window over the
+motionless body of Caleb Kimball, who lay in a strange, deep sleep,
+unconscious, on the bed. His hair was raven black against the pillow
+and the lashes on his cheeks looked more 'n a yard long, Amanda told
+Susan Benson. (She afterward confessed that this was a slight
+exaggeration due to extreme excitement.) She spoke his name three
+times, but he did not stir. She must get the doctor and send for
+William Benson, that was clear; but first she must try her hand at
+improving the immediate situation.
+
+Stealing downstairs she tied on her apron and lighted a fire in the
+kitchen stove, with the view of making things respectable before
+gossipy neighbors came in. Her sister used to say that the minute
+Amanda tied on her apron things began to move and take a turn for the
+better, and it was so now. She poured a few drops of cologne into a
+basin of water, and putting the towel over her arm went upstairs to
+Caleb's bedside.
+
+"I've done him wrong," she thought remorsefully as she noted his
+decent night-clothing and bedding. "He ain't lost his self-respect in
+all these years, and every soul in Bonny Eagle thought he was living
+like an animal!"
+
+She bathed his face and throat and hands, then moistened and smoothed
+his hair without provoking a movement or a sound. He seemed in a
+profound stupor, but there was no stertorous breathing. Straightening
+the bedclothes and giving a hasty wipe to the tops of the pine bureau
+and table, she opened the window and closed the blinds. At this moment
+she spied one of the Thatcher boys going along the road, and ran down
+to the gate to ask him to send William Benson and the doctor as soon
+as possible.
+
+"Tell them Miss Dalton says please to come quick; Caleb Kimball's very
+sick," she said.
+
+"Don't you need mother, too?" asked the boy. "She's wanted to git into
+his house for years, and she'd do most anything for the chance."
+
+"No, thank you," said Amanda pitilessly. "I can do everything for the
+present, and Mr. Benson will probably want his wife, if anybody."
+
+"All right," said the boy as he started off on a dog-trot. News was
+rare in Bonny Eagle, and Caleb Kimball was a distinguished and
+interesting figure in village gossip.
+
+Amanda Dalton had never had to hurry in her life. That was one of her
+crosses, for there probably never was a woman who could do more in
+less time. It was an hour and a half before William Benson came, and
+in those ninety minutes she had swept the kitchen and poured a pail or
+two of hot soap-suds over the floor, that may have felt a mop, but
+certainly had not known a scrubbing-brush for years. She tore down the
+fly-specked, tattered, buff shades, and washed the three windows;
+blackened the stove; fed the dog and horse; milked the cow; strained
+the milk and carried it down cellar; making three trips upstairs in
+the meantime to find no change in the patient. His lids stayed down as
+though they were weighted with lead, his long arms lay motionless on
+the counterpane.
+
+Amanda's blood coursed through her veins like lightning. Here was work
+to her hand; blessed, healing work for days, perhaps weeks to come. In
+these first moments of emotional excitement I fear she hoped it would
+be a long case of helpless invalidism, during which it would be her
+Christian duty to clean the lower part of the house and perhaps make
+some impression on the shed; but this tempting thought was quickly
+banished as she reflected that Caleb Kimball was a bachelor, and the
+Widow Thatcher the person marked out by a just but unsympathetic
+Providence for sick-nurse and housekeeper.
+
+"She shan't come!" thought Amanda passionately. "I'll make the doctor
+ask me to take charge. William Benson shall stay here nights an' Susan
+will run in now an' then daytimes, or I'll get little Abby Thatcher to
+do the rough work an' keep me company; then her mother won't make
+talk."
+
+"I don't know exactly what's the matter with the man," confessed the
+doctor, when he came. "There's a mark and a swelling on the back of
+his head as if he might have fallen somewhere. He hasn't got any pulse
+and he's all skin and bone. He's starved out, I guess, and his
+machinery has just stopped. He wants nursing and feeding and all the
+things a woman can do for him. The Lord never intended men-folks to
+live alone!"
+
+"If they ain't got wit enough to find that out for themselves it ain't
+likely any woman'll take the trouble to tell 'em!" exclaimed Amanda
+with some spirit.
+
+"Don't get stuffy, Amanda! Just be a good Christian and take hold here
+for a few days till we see whether we've got to have a nurse from
+Portland. Man's extremity is God's opportunity; maybe Caleb'll come to
+his senses before he gets over this sickness."
+
+"I wonder if he ever had any senses?" said Amanda.
+
+"Plenty," the doctor answered as he prepared the medicines; "but he
+hasn't used them for twenty years.--I'll come back in an hour and
+fetch Bill Benson with me. Then I'll stay till I can bring Caleb back
+to consciousness. We shall have to get him downstairs as soon as he
+can be moved; it will be much easier to take care of him there."
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+The details of Caleb Kimball's illness would be such as fill a nurse's
+bedside record book. The mainspring of life had been snapped and the
+machinery refused to move for a long time. When he recovered
+consciousness his solemn black eyes followed Amanda Dalton's movements
+as if fascinated, but he spoke no word save a faltering phrase or two
+at night to William Benson.
+
+Meantime much had been happening below-stairs, where Amanda Dalton
+reigned supreme, with Susan Benson and Abby Thatcher taking turns in
+housework or nursing. William Benson was a painter by trade, and
+Amanda's ingenious idea was to persuade him to paint and paper the
+Kimball kitchen before Caleb was moved downstairs.
+
+This struck William as a most extraordinary and unnecessary
+performance.
+
+"Israel in Egypt!" he exclaimed. "What's the matter with you women? I
+never heard o' such goin's-on in my life! I might lay abed a thousand
+years an' nobody'd paint my premises. Let Caleb git his strength back
+an' then use a little elbow grease on his own house--you can't teach
+an old dog new tricks, Susan!"
+
+"'Pends on how old the dog is, an' what kind o' tricks you want to
+teach him," Susan replied. "It'd be a queer dog that wouldn't take to
+a clean kennel, or three good meals a day 'stead o' starvation
+vittles. Amanda says it may be a kind of a turnin'-point in Caleb's
+life, an' she thinks we'd ought to encourage him a little."
+
+"Ain't I encouragin' him by sleepin' on his settin'-room lounge every
+night an' givin' him medicine every two hours by the alarm clock? I've
+got my own day's work to do; when would I paint his kitchen, I'd like
+to know?"
+
+"We thought probably you'd like to do it nights," suggested his wife
+timidly.
+
+"Saul in Tarsus! Don't that beat the devil?" ejaculated William.
+"Caleb Kimball ain't done a good day's work for years, an' I'm to set
+up nights paintin' his kitchen!" Nevertheless the magnificent
+impertinence of the idea so paralyzed his will that he ended by
+putting on twelve single rolls of fawn-colored paper and painting the
+woodwork yellow to harmonize, working from eight to twelve several
+nights and swearing freely at his own foolishness.
+
+By this time Amanda had made the downstairs chamber all tidy and
+comfortable for the patient. She had contributed a window shade and
+dimity curtains; Susan a braided rug and a chair cushion. The chamber
+(the one in which Caleb's mother had died) opened from the kitchen and
+commanded an enticing view of the fresh yellow walls and shining
+cook-stove. On the day before Caleb's removal Amanda sat on the foot
+of the bed and looked through the doorway with silent joy, going to
+and fro to move a bright tin dipper into plainer view or retire a
+drying dish-cloth to greater privacy.
+
+Even Abby Thatcher was by this time a trifle exhilarated. She did not
+understand the situation very well, being of a sternly practical
+nature herself, but she caught the enthusiasm of the two women and
+scrubbed the kitchen floor faithfully every morning in order to remove
+the stains of years of neglect.
+
+"You wouldn't think your old hen 'd be such a fool, Miss Dalton," she
+said; "but I kind o' surmised the reason she's been missin', an' I
+found her to-day in a corner o' the haymow sittin' on five eggs. Now,
+wouldn't you s'pose at her age she'd know better than to try an' raise
+chickens in October?"
+
+"I'm afraid they'll die if it should be a cold fall, with nobody to
+look after 'em; but maybe I can take 'em home to my shed an' lend Mr.
+Kimball another hen." (Amanda's tone was motherly.) "I never like to
+break up a hen's nest, somehow; it seems as if they must have feelin's
+like other folks."
+
+"I'd take her off quicker'n scat, an' keep takin' her off, till she
+got some sense," said Abby, with the Chinese cruelty of sixteen.
+
+"Well, you let her be till Mr. Kimball gets well enough to ask; an' I
+think, Abby, you might clean up the dooryard just a little mite this
+mornin'," suggested Amanda. "If you could straighten up the fence an'
+find a couple of old hinges to hang the gate with, it would kind o'
+put new heart into Mr. Kimball when he's sittin' up an' lookin' out
+the window."
+
+"Why didn't he put heart into hisself by hangin' his _own_ gate,
+before he took sick?" grumbled Abby, reducing Amanda to momentary
+silence by her pitiless logic.
+
+"Why didn't he, indeed?" echoed her heart gloomily, receiving nothing
+in the way of answer from her limited experience of men.
+
+Caleb had spoken more frequently the last few days. When by the
+combined exertions of the Bensons and the doctor he had been brought
+down into his mother's old room, Amanda closed the kitchen door,
+thinking one experience at a time was enough for a man in his weak and
+exhausted condition. William Benson couldn't see any sense in this
+precaution, but he never did see much sense in what women-folks did.
+He wanted to show Caleb the new paint and paper immediately, and
+remark casually that he had done all the work while he was
+"night-nursin'."
+
+The next morning Amanda had seized a good opportunity to open the door
+between the two rooms, straightway retiring to the side entry to await
+developments. In a few moments she heard Caleb moving, and going in
+found him half sitting up in bed, leaning on his elbow.
+
+"What's the matter with the kitchen?" he asked feebly, staring with
+wide-open eyes at the unaccustomed prospect.
+
+"Only fresh paint an' paper; that's William's work."
+
+"O God, I ain't worth it! I ain't worth it!" he groaned as he hid his
+face in the pillow.
+
+"Have you been here all the time?" he asked Amanda when she brought
+him his gruel later in the day.
+
+"Yes, off an' on, when I could get away from my own work."
+
+"Who found me?"
+
+"I did. I knew by the looks somethin' was wrong up here."
+
+"Somethin' wrong, sure enough, an' always was!" Amanda heard him
+mutter as he turned his face to the wall.
+
+The next day he opened his eyes suddenly as she was passing through
+the room.
+
+"Did you make that pie William Benson brought me last month?"
+
+"What made you think I did?"
+
+"Oh, I don't know; it looked, an' it tasted like one o' yours," he
+said, closing his eyes again. "If you know a woman, you can tell her
+pie, somehow!"
+
+When had Caleb Kimball ever tasted any of her cooking? A mysterious
+remark, but everything he said sounded a trifle lightheaded.
+
+His questions came back to her when she was waiting for William Benson
+at twilight that same day.
+
+Caleb had been sleeping quietly for an hour or more. Amanda was
+standing at the stove stirring his arrowroot gruel. The kitchen was
+still.
+
+A smothered "_miaow_" and the scratching of claws on wood arrested her
+attention, and she went hurriedly to the door.
+
+"Tristram Dalton; what _are_ you up here for, away from your own
+home?" she exclaimed.
+
+Tristram vouchsafed no explanation of his appearance, but his demeanor
+spoke louder than words to Amanda's guilty conscience, as he walked
+in.
+
+"No shelter for me but the shed these days!" he seemed to say.
+"Instead of well-served meals, a cup of milk set here or there!"
+
+He made the circuit of the kitchen discontentedly and finding nothing
+to his taste went into the adjoining room, and after walking over the
+full length of Caleb's prostrate form curled himself up in a hollow at
+the foot of the bed.
+
+"I've neglected him!" thought Amanda; "but his turn'll come again soon
+enough," and she bent her eyes on the gruel.
+
+The blue bowl sat in the pan of hot water on the stove, and she
+stirred and stirred, slowly, regularly, continuously, in order that
+the arrowroot should be of a velvety smoothness.
+
+The days were drawing in, and the October sun was setting very yellow,
+sending a flood of light over her head and shoulders. She wore her
+afternoon dress of alpaca, with a worked muslin collar and cuffs and a
+white apron tied round her trim waist. She was one of your wholesome
+shining women and her bright brown hair glistened like satin.
+
+Caleb's black eyes looked yearningly at her as she stood there all
+unconscious, doing one of her innumerable neighborly kindnesses for
+him.
+
+She made a picture of sweet, strong, steady womanliness, although she
+did not know it. Caleb knew something extraordinary was going on
+inside of him, but under what impulse he was too puzzled and
+inexperienced to say.
+
+"Amanda."
+
+Amanda turned sharply at the sound of his voice as she was lifting the
+steaming arrowroot out of the water.
+
+"Whose cat is this?"
+
+"Mine.--Come off that bed, Tristram!"
+
+"Don't disturb him; I like to have him there.--Where's Abby
+Thatcher?"
+
+"She's gone home on an errand; she'll be back in fifteen minutes
+now."
+
+"Where's William?"
+
+"It's only five o'clock. He don't come till six. What can I get for
+you? Have you had a good sleep?"
+
+She set the gruel on the back of the stove and went in to his
+bedside.
+
+"I don't sleep much; I just lie an' think ... Amanda, ... now, they're
+all away, ... if I get over this spell, ... an' take a year to
+straighten up an' get hold o' things like other folks, ... do you
+think ... you'd risk ... marryin' me?"
+
+There was a moment's dead silence; then Amanda said, turning pale:
+"Are you in your right mind, Caleb Kimball?"
+
+"I am, but I don't wonder at your askin'," said the man humbly. "I've
+kind o' fancied you for years; but you've always been way down there
+across the fields, out o' reach!"
+
+"I'm too amazed to think it out," faltered Amanda.
+
+"Don't you think it out, for God's sake, or you'll never do it!" He
+caught at her hand as if it had been a life-line--her kind, smooth
+hand, the helpful hand with the bit of white cambric bound round a
+finger burned in his service.
+
+"It was the kitchen that put the courage into me," he went on
+feverishly. "I laid here an' thought: 'If she can make a house look so
+different in a week, what could she do with a man?'"
+
+"I ain't afraid but I could," stammered Amanda; "if the man would
+help--not hinder."
+
+"Just try me, Amanda. I wouldn't need a year--honest, I wouldn't--I
+could show you in three months!"
+
+Caleb's strength was waning now. His head dropped forward and Amanda
+caught it on her breast. She put one arm round his shoulders to keep
+him from falling back, while her other hand supported his head. His
+cheek was wet and as she felt the tears on her palm, mutely calling to
+her strength, all the woman in her gathered itself together and rushed
+to meet the man's need.
+
+"If only ... you could take me ... now ... right off," he faltered;
+"before anything happens ... to prevent? I'd be good to you ... till
+the day I die!"
+
+"I ain't afraid to risk it, Caleb," said Amanda. "I'll take you now
+when you need me the most. We'll just put our two forlorn houses
+together an' see if we can make 'em into a home!"
+
+Caleb gave one choking sob of content and gratitude. His hand relaxed
+its clasp of Amanda's; his head dropped and he fainted.
+
+William Benson came in just then.
+
+"What's the matter?" he cried, coming quickly toward the bed. "Has he
+had a spell? He was so much better last night I expected to see him
+settin' up!"
+
+"He'll come to in a minute," said Amanda. "Give me the palm-leaf fan.
+We're goin' to be married in a day or so, an' he got kind of excited
+talkin' it over."
+
+"Moses in the bulrushes!" ejaculated William Benson, sitting down
+heavily in the nearest chair.
+
+William Benson was not a sentimental or imaginative person, and he
+confessed he couldn't make head nor tail out o' the affair; said it
+was the queerest an' beatin'est weddin' that ever took place in Bonny
+Eagle; didn't know when they fixed it up, nor how, nor why, if you
+come to that. Amanda Dalton had never had a beau, but she was the
+likeliest woman in the village, spite o' that, an' Caleb Kimball was
+the onlikeliest man. Amanda was the smartest woman, an' Caleb the
+laziest man. He kind o' thought Amanda 'd married Caleb so 't she
+could clean house for him; but it seemed an awful high price to pay
+for a job. He guessed she couldn't bear to have his everlastin'
+whiteweed seedin' itself into her hayfield, an' the only way she could
+stop it was to marry him an' weed it out. He thought, too, that Caleb
+had kind o' got int' the habit o' watchin' Mandy flyin' about down to
+her place. There's nothin' so fascinatin' as to set still an' see
+other folks work. The critter was so busy, an' so diff'rent from him,
+mebbe it kind o' tantalized him.
+
+The Widow Thatcher was convinced that Mandy must have gone for Caleb
+hammer 'n' tongs when he was too weak to hold out against her. No
+woman in her sober senses would paper a man's kitchen for him unless
+she intended to get some use out of it herself. "We don't know what
+the disciples would 'a' done," she said, "nor the apostles, nor the
+saints, nor the archangels; we only know what women-folks would 'a'
+done, and there ain't one above ground that would 'a' cleaned Caleb
+Kimball's house without she expected to live in it."
+
+Susan Benson had a vague instinct with regard to the real facts of the
+case, but even she mustered up courage to ask Amanda once how the
+wonderful matter came about.
+
+Amanda looked at Mrs. Benson with some embarrassment, for she was not
+good at confidences.
+
+"Susan, you an' I've been brought up together, gone to school
+together, experienced religion an' joined the church together, an' I
+stood up with you an' William when you was married, so 't I'd speak
+out freer to you than I would to most."
+
+"I hope so, I'm sure."
+
+"Though I wouldn't want you to repeat anything, Susan."
+
+"'Tain't likely I would, Mandy."
+
+"Well, I'd no sooner got Caleb into a clean bed an' a clean room an'
+begun to feed him good food than I begun to like him. There's things
+in human hearts that I ain't wise enough to explain, Susan, an' I
+ain't goin' to try. Caleb Kimball seemed to me like a man that was
+drownin', all because there wa'n't anybody near to put a hand under
+his chin an' keep his head out o' water. I didn't suspicion he'd let
+me do it! I thought he'd just lie there an' drown, but it didn't turn
+out that way."
+
+"Well, it does kind o' seem as if you'd gone through the woods o' life
+to pick up a crooked stick at last," sighed Susan; "though I will say,
+now I've been under Caleb Kimball's roof, he's an awful sight nicer
+man close to than he is fur off. So, take it all in all, life an'
+men-folks bein' so uncertain, an' old age a-creepin' on first thing
+you know, perhaps it's for the best; an' I do hope you'll make out to
+be happy, Mandy."
+
+There was a quiver of real feeling in Susan Benson's voice, though she
+made no movement to touch her friend's hand.
+
+"I'm goin' to be happy!" said Amanda cheerfully. "I always did like
+plenty to do, an' now I've got it for the rest o' my life!"
+
+"I only hope you can stan' his ways, Amandy," and Susan's voice was
+still doubtful. "That's all I'm afraid of; that you're so diff'rent
+you can't never stan' his ways."
+
+"He won't have so many ways when we've been married a spell," said
+Amanda.
+
+
+
+
+HULDAH THE PROPHETESS
+
+
+                     "And they went unto Huldah the
+                   Prophetess and communed with her"
+
+Huldah Rumford leaned from her bedroom window as she finished plaiting
+her hair.
+
+The crowing of the white Brahma rooster had interrupted her toilet and
+she craned her neck impatiently until she discovered that he had come
+from the hen-yard in the rear and established himself on the
+doorsteps, from which dominating position he was announcing his
+message.
+
+"That means company coming, and I hope it's true," she said to
+herself, as she looked absent-mindedly in the old-fashioned looking
+glass, with its picture of Washington crossing the Delaware.
+
+Her thoughts were evidently wandering, for she took her petticoat from
+a hook in the closet and pulling it over her head found, when she
+searched for the buttons in the waistband, that she had it on
+wrong-side out.
+
+"I don't care!" she exclaimed, giving the unoffending garment an angry
+twitch, "but it does seem as if I was possessed! I can't keep my mind
+on my clothes long enough to get them on straight! I turned my
+petticoat yesterday, in spite of knowing it brings bad luck, but
+to-day I just won't take the chance."
+
+The pink calico morning dress went on without adventure. Then she
+carefully emptied the water from the wash-bowl into the jar, wiped it
+neatly and hung the towel to dry; straightened the photograph of her
+deceased father in its black-walnut frame; shook the feather bed and
+tightened a sagging cord under the cornhusk mattress; took the
+candlestick from the light-stand by her bedside and tripped down the
+attic stairs two at a time.
+
+Huldah was seventeen, which is a good thing; she was bewitchingly
+pretty, which is a better thing; and she was in love, which is
+probably the best thing of all, making due allowance, of course, for
+the occasions in which it is the worst possible thing that can happen
+to anybody.
+
+Mrs. Rumford was in the kitchen frying doughnuts for breakfast. She
+was a comfortable figure as she stood over the brimming "spider" with
+her three-pronged fork poised in the air. She turned the yellow rings
+in the hissing fat until they were nut-brown, then dropped them for a
+moment into a bowl of powdered sugar, from which they issued the most
+delicious conspirators against the human stomach that can be found in
+the catalogue of New England cookery.
+
+The table was neatly laid near the screen door that opened from the
+kitchen into the apple-orchard. A pan of buttermilk biscuits was
+sitting on the back of the stove, and half a custard pie, left from
+the previous night's supper, held the position of honor in front of
+Mrs. Rumford's seat. If the pie had been cereal, the doughnuts
+omelette, and the saleratus biscuits leavened bread, the plot and the
+course of this tale might have been different; but that is neither
+here nor there.
+
+"Did you hear the Brahma rooster crowing on the doorstep, mother?"
+asked Huldah.
+
+"No; but I ain't surprised, for I can't seem to keep my dish-cloth in
+my hand this morning; if I've dropped it once I've dropped it a dozen
+times: there's company coming, sure."
+
+"That rooster was crowin' on the fence last time I seen him, and he's
+up there ag'in now," said little Jimmy Rumford, with the most
+offensive skepticism.
+
+"What if he is?" asked his sister sharply. "That means fair weather,
+and don't interfere with the sign of company coming; it makes it all
+the more certain."
+
+"I bet he ain't crowin' about Pitt Packard," retorted Jimmy, with a
+large joy illuminating his sunburnt face. "Pitt ain't comin' home from
+Moderation this week; he's gone to work on the covered bridge up
+there."
+
+Huldah's face fell.
+
+"I'd ought to have known better than to turn my white skirt
+yesterday," she sighed. "I never knew it to fail bringing bad luck. I
+vow I'll never do it again."
+
+"That's one o' the signs I haven't got so much confidence in," said
+Mrs. Rumford, skimming the cream from a pan of milk into the churn and
+putting the skimmed milk on the table. "It don't come true with me
+more 'n three times out o' five, but there's others that never fails.
+You jest hold on, Huldy; the dish-cloth and the rooster knows as much
+'bout what's goin' to happen as your white petticoat does."
+
+"Jest about as much," interpolated Jimmy, with his utterance somewhat
+choked by hot doughnut.
+
+Huldah sat down at the table and made a pretense of eating something,
+but her heart was heavy within her.
+
+"What are you churning for on Friday, mother?" she asked.
+
+"Why, I told you I am looking for strangers. It ain't Pitt Packard
+only that I expect. Yesterday mornin' I swept a black mark on the
+floor; in the afternoon I found two o' the settin'-room chairs
+standin' back to back, and my right hand kep' itchin' all day, so't I
+knew I was goin' to shake hands with somebody."
+
+"You told me 't was the left hand," said Jimmy.
+
+"I never told you no such thing, Jimmy Rumford. Eat your breakfast,
+and don't contradict your mother, or I'll send you to bed quick 's you
+finish eatin'. Don't you tell me what I said nor what I didn't say,
+for I won't have it. Do you hear me?"
+
+"You did!" responded Jimmy obstinately, preparing to dodge under the
+table in case of sudden necessity. "You said your left hand itched,
+and it meant money comin', and you hoped Rube Hobson was goin' to pay
+you for the turkey he bought a year ago last Thanksgivin'-time, so
+there!"
+
+"So I did," said the widow reflectively. "Come to think of it, so I
+did; it must 'a' been a Wednesday my right hand kep' itchin' so."
+
+"And comp'ny didn't come a Wednesday neither," persevered Jimmy.
+
+"Jimmy Rumford, if you don't behave yourself and speak when you're
+spoken to, and not before, you'll git a trouncin' that you'll remember
+consid'able of a spell afterwards."
+
+"I'm ready for it!" replied the youngster, darting into the shed and
+peeping back into the kitchen with a malignant smile. "I dreamt o'
+Baldwin apples last night.
+
+                     'Dream fruit out o' season,
+                     That's anger without reason.'
+
+I knew when I got up you'd get mad with me the first thing this
+morning, and I'm all prepared--when you ketch me!"
+
+Both women gave a sigh of relief when the boy's flying figure
+disappeared around the corner of the barn. He was morally certain to
+be in mischief wherever he was, but if he was out of sight there was
+one point gained at least.
+
+"Why do you care so dreadfully whether Pitt comes or not?" asked Mrs.
+Rumford, now that quiet was restored, "If he don't come to-day, then
+he'll come a Sunday; and if he don't come this Sunday, then he'll come
+the next one, so what's the odds? You and him didn't have a fallin'
+out last time he was home, did you?"
+
+"Yes, if you must know it, we did."
+
+"Haven't you got any common sense, Huldy? Sakes alive! I thought when
+I married Daniel Rumford, if I could stand his temper it was nobody's
+business but my own. I didn't foresee that he had so much he could
+keep plenty for his own use, and then have a lot left to hand down to
+his children, so 't I should have to live in the house with it to the
+day of my death! Seems to me if I was a girl and lived in a village
+where men-folks is as scarce as they be here, I'd be turrible careful
+to keep holt of a beau after I'd got him. What in the name o' goodness
+did you quarrel about?"
+
+Huldah got up from the table and carried her plate and cup to the
+sink. She looked out of the window to conceal her embarrassment, and
+busied herself with preparations for the dish-washing, so that she
+could talk with greater freedom.
+
+"We've had words before this, plenty of times, but they didn't amount
+to anything. Pitt's good, and he's handsome, and he's smart; but he's
+awful dictatorial and fault-finding, and I just ain't goin' to eat too
+much humble-pie before I'm married, for fear I won't have anything
+else to eat afterwards, and it ain't very fattening for a steady diet.
+And if there ever was a hateful old woman in the world it's his
+stepmother. I've heard of her saying mean things about our family
+every once in a while, but I wouldn't tell you for fear you'd flare up
+and say Pitt couldn't come to see me. She's tried to set him against
+me ever since we began to keep company together. She's never quite
+managed to do it, but she's succeeded well enough to keep me in
+continual trouble."
+
+"What's she got to say?" inquired Mrs. Rumford hotly. "She never had a
+silk dress in the world, till Eben Packard married her, and everybody
+knows her father was a horse-doctor and mine was a reg'lar one!"
+
+"She didn't say anything about fathers, but she did tell Almira Berry
+that no member of the church in good standing could believe in signs
+as you did and have hope of salvation. She said I was a chip off the
+old block, and had been raised like a heathen. It seems when I was
+over there on Sunday I refused to stand up and have my height measured
+against the wall, and I told 'em if you measured heights on Sunday
+you'd like as not die before the year was out. I didn't know then she
+had such a prejudice against signs, but since that time I've dragged
+'em in every chance I got, just to spite her."
+
+"More fool you!" said her mother, beginning to move the dasher of the
+churn up and down with a steady motion. "You might have waited until
+she was your mother-in-law before you began to spite her. The first
+thing you know you won't get any mother-in-law."
+
+"That's the only thing that would console me for losing Pitt!"
+exclaimed Huldah. "If I can't marry him I don't have to live with her,
+that's one comfort! The last thing she did was to tell Aunt Hitty
+Tarbox she'd as lief have Pitt bring one of the original Salem witches
+into the house as one of the Daniel Rumford tribe."
+
+"The land sakes!" ejaculated the widow, giving a desperate and
+impassioned plunge to the churn-dasher. "Now I know why I dreamt of
+snakes and muddy water the night before she come here to the Ladies'
+Aid Club. Well, she's seventy, and she can't live forever; she can't
+take Eben Packard's money into the next world with her, either, and I
+guess if she could 't would melt as soon as it got there."
+
+Huldah persevered with her confession, dropping an occasional tear in
+the dishwater.
+
+"Last time Pitt came here he said he should have three or four days'
+vacation the 12th of August, and he thought we'd better get married
+then, if 't was agreeable to me. I was kind of shy, and the almanac
+was hanging alongside of the table, so I took it up and looked to see
+what day of the week the 12th fell on. 'Oh, Pitt,' I said, 'we can't
+be married on Friday; it's dreadful unlucky.' He began to scold then,
+and said I didn't care anything about him if I wouldn't marry him when
+it was most convenient; and I said I would if 't was any day but
+Friday; and he said that was all moonshine, and nobody but foolish old
+women believed in such nonsense; and I said there wasn't a girl in
+town that would marry him on a Friday; and he said there was; and I
+asked him to come right out and tell who he meant; and he said he
+didn't mean anybody in particular; and I said he did; and he said,
+well, Jennie Perkins would, on Friday or Sunday or wash-day or any
+other day; and I said if I was a man I vow I wouldn't take a girl that
+was so anxious as all that; and he said he'd rather take one that was
+a little too anxious than one that wasn't anxious enough; and so we
+had it, back and forth, till I got so mad I couldn't see the almanac.
+Then, just to show him I had more good reasons than one, I said,
+'Besides, if we should be married on a Friday we'd have to go away on
+a Saturday, and ten to one 't would rain on our wedding-trip.'
+
+"'Why would it rain Saturday more than any other day?' said he; and
+then I mistrusted I was getting into fresh trouble, but I was too mad
+to back out, and said I, 'They say it rains more Saturdays in the year
+than any other day'; and he got red in the face and said, 'Where'd you
+get that silly notion?' Then I said it wasn't any silly notion, it was
+Gospel truth, and anybody that took notice of anything knew it was so;
+and he said he never heard of it in his life; and I said there was
+considerable many things that he'd never heard of that he'd be all the
+better for knowing; and he said he was like Josh Billings, he'd rather
+know a few things well than know so many things that wa'n't so."
+
+"You might have told him how we compared notes about rainy days at the
+Aid Club," said her mother. "You remember Hannah Sophia Palmer hadn't
+noticed it, but the minute you mentioned it she remembered how, when
+she was a child, she was always worryin' for fear she couldn't wear
+her new hat a Sunday, and it must have been because it was threatening
+weather a Saturday, and she was afraid it would keep up for Sunday.
+And the widow Buzzell said she always picked up her apples for
+pie-baking on Friday, it was so apt to be dull or wet on a Saturday."
+
+"I told him all of that," continued Huldah, "and how old Mrs. Bascom
+said they had a literary society over to Edgewood that used to meet
+twice a month on Saturday afternoons, and it rained or snowed so often
+they had to change their meetings to a Wednesday.
+
+"Then the first thing I knew Pitt stood up so straight he looked more
+than ten feet tall, and says he, 'If you don't marry me a Friday,
+Huldah Rumford, you don't marry me at all. You're nothing but a mass
+of superstition, and if you're so scared for fear it will rain on your
+wedding-bonnet a Saturday, you can stay home under cover the rest of
+your life, for all I care. I'll wash the top buggy, put the umbrella
+under the seat, and take Jennie Perkins; she won't be afraid of a
+wetting so long as she gets it in good company.'
+
+"'You're right,' I said, 'she won't, especially if the company's a
+man, for she'll be so dumfounded at getting one of 'em to sit beside
+her she won't notice if it rains pitchforks, and so far as I'm
+concerned she's welcome to my leavings.' Then he went out and slammed
+the kitchen door after him, but not so quick that I didn't get a good
+slam on the sitting-room door first."
+
+"He'll come back," churned Mrs. Rumford philosophically. "Jennie
+Perkins has got a pug nose, and a good-sized mole on one side of it. A
+mole on the nose is a sure sign of bad luck in love-affairs,
+particularly if it's well to one side. He'll come back."
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+But, as a matter of fact, the days went by, the maple-trees turned
+red, and Pitt Packard did not come back to the Rumford farm. His
+comings and his goings were all known to Huldah. She knew that he took
+Jennie Perkins to the Sunday-School picnic, and escorted her home from
+evening meetings. She knew that old Mrs. Packard had given her a
+garnet pin, a glass handkerchief-box, and a wreath of hair flowers
+made from the intertwined tresses of the Packards and the Doolittles.
+If these symptoms could by any possibility be misinterpreted, there
+were various other details of an alarmingly corroborative character,
+culminating in the marriage of Pitt to Jennie on a certain Friday
+evening at eight o'clock. He not only married her on a Friday, but he
+drove her to Portland on a Saturday morning; and the Fates, who are
+never above taking a little extra trouble when they are dealing out
+misery, decreed that it should be one of the freshest, brightest, most
+golden mornings of the early autumn.
+
+Pitt thought Portland preferable to Biddeford or Saco as a place to
+pass the brief honeymoon, if for no other reason than because the road
+thither lay past the Rumford house. But the Rumfords' blinds were
+tightly closed on the eventful Saturday, and an unnecessarily large
+placard hung ostentatiously on the front gate, announcing to
+passers-by that the family had gone to Old Orchard Beach, and would be
+home at sundown. This was a bitter blow to the bridegroom, for he had
+put down the back of the buggy with the intention of kissing the bride
+within full view of the Rumford windows. When he found it was of no
+use, he abandoned the idea, as the operation never afforded him any
+especial pleasure. He asked Mrs. Pitt if she preferred to go to the
+beach for her trip, but she decidedly favored the gayeties of a
+metropolis.
+
+The excitement of passing the Rumford house having faded, Jennie's
+nose became so oppressive to Pitt that he finally changed places with
+her, explaining that he generally drove on the left side. He was more
+tranquil then, for her left profile was more pleasing, though for the
+life of him he could not help remembering Huldah's sweet outlines, the
+dimple in her chin, her kissable mouth, her delicate ear. Why, oh,
+why, had she inherited her father's temper and her mother's gift of
+prophecy, to say nothing of her grandfather's obstinacy and her
+grandmother's nimble tongue! All at once it dawned upon him that he
+might have jilted Huldah without marrying Jennie. It would, it is
+true, have been only a half revenge; but his appetite for revenge was
+so dulled by satisfaction he thought he could have been perfectly
+comfortable with half the quantity, even if Huldah were not quite so
+uncomfortable as he wished her to be. He dismissed these base and
+disloyal sentiments, however, as bravely as he could, and kissed
+Jennie twice, in a little stretch of wood road that fell in
+opportunely with his mood of silent penitence.
+
+About two o'clock clouds began to gather in the sky, and there was a
+muttering of thunder. Pitt endured all the signs of a shower with such
+fortitude as he could command, and did not put up the buggy-top or
+unstrap the boot until the rain came down in good earnest.
+
+"Who'd have suspicioned this kind of weather?" he growled as he got
+the last strap into place and shook the water from his new straw hat.
+
+"I was afraid of it, but I didn't like to speak out," said Jennie
+primly; "they say it gen'ally does rain Saturdays."
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+Meanwhile Huldah lay in the spare room at the back of the house and
+sobbed quietly. Mrs. Rumford and the skeptical Jimmy had gone to Old
+Orchard, and Huldah had slipped out of the front door, tacked the
+obtrusive placard on the gate-post, and closed all the blinds in honor
+of the buried hopes that lay like a dead weight at the bottom of her
+heart.
+
+She was a silly little thing, a vain little thing, and a spitfire to
+boot, but that did not prevent her suffering an appreciable amount,
+all that her nature would allow; and if it was not as much as a larger
+nature would have suffered, neither had she much philosophy or
+strength to bear it. The burden is fitted to the back as often as the
+back to the burden.
+
+She frequently declared to herself afterwards that she should have had
+"a fit of sickness" if it had not been for the thunderstorm that came
+up on that never-to-be-forgotten Saturday afternoon. She had waked
+that morning with a dull pain in her heart--a dull pain that had grown
+keener when she looked from her attic window and saw the sun shining
+clear in the sky. Not a cloud sullied the surface of that fair blue
+canopy on this day of the faithless Pitt's wedding-journey. A sweet
+wind blew the tail feathers of the golden cock on the squire's barn
+till he stared the west directly in the eye. What a day to drive to
+Portland! She would have worn tan-colored low shoes and brown openwork
+stockings (what ugly feet Jennie Perkins had!), a buff challie dress
+with little brown autumn leaves on it, a belt and sash of brown
+watered ribbon (Jennie had a waist like a flour-barrel!), and a sailor
+hat with a bunch of yellow roses on one side--or would two brown
+quills, standing up coquettishly, have been more attractive? Then she
+would have taken a brown cloth shoulder-cape, trimmed with rows upon
+rows of cream-colored lace, and a brown parasol with an acorn of
+polished wood on the handle. Oh, what was the use of living when she
+could wear none of this bridal apparel, but must put on her old pink
+calico and go down to meet Jimmy's brotherly sneers? Was there ever
+such a cruelly sunshiny morning? A spot of flickering light danced and
+quivered on her blue wallpaper until she could bear it no longer, and
+pinned a towel over it. She sat down by the open window and leaned
+dejectedly on the sill, the prettiest picture of spiteful, unnecessary
+misery that the eye of mortal man ever rested upon, with her bright
+hair tumbling over her unbleached nightgown, and her little bare feet
+curled about the chair-rounds like those of a disconsolate child.
+Nobody could have approved of, or even sympathized with, so trivial a
+creature, but plenty of people would have been so sorry for her that
+they would have taken sensible, conscientious, unattractive Jennie
+Perkins out of Pitt Packard's buggy and substituted the heedless
+little Huldah, just for the pleasure of seeing her smile and blush.
+There was, however, no guardian imp to look after her ruined fortunes,
+and she went downstairs as usual to help about the breakfast,
+wondering to herself if there were any tragedies in life too terrible
+to be coexistent with three meals a day and the dishes washed after
+each one of them.
+
+An infant hope stirred in her heart when she saw a red sparkle here
+and there on the sooty bottom of the tea-kettle, and it grew a little
+when her mother remarked that the dishwater boiled away so fast and
+the cows lay down so much that she believed it would rain the next
+day. When, that same afternoon, the welcome shower came with scarce
+ten minutes' warning, Huldah could hardly believe her eyes and ears.
+She jumped from her couch of anguish and remorse like an excited
+kitten, darted out of the house unmindful of the lightning, drove the
+Jersey calf under cover, chased the chickens into the coop, bolstered
+up the tomatoes so that the wind and rain would not blow the fruit
+from the heavily laden plants, opened the blinds and closed the
+windows.
+
+"It comes from the east," she cried, dancing up and down in a glow of
+childish glee--"it comes from the east, and it's blowing in on
+Jennie's side of the buggy!" She did not know that Pitt had changed
+places with his bride, and that his broad shoulder was shielding her
+from the "angry airt."
+
+Then she flew into the kitchen and pinned up her blown hair in front
+of the cracked looking-glass, thinking with sympathetic tenderness how
+pretty she looked, with her crown of chestnut tendrils tightened by
+the dampness, her round young cheeks crimsoned by the wind, and her
+still tearful eyes brightened by unchristian joy. She remembered with
+naughty satisfaction how rain invariably straightened Jennie Perkins's
+frizzes, and was glad, _glad_ that it did. Her angry passions were so
+beautifying that the radiant vision in the glass almost dazzled her.
+It made her very sorry for Pitt too. She hated to think that his
+ill-temper and stubborn pride and obstinacy had lost him such a lovely
+creature as herself, and had forced him to waste his charms on so
+unappreciative and plain a person as Jennie Perkins. She remembered
+that Pitt had asked her to marry him coming home from the fair in a
+rainstorm. If he meant anything he said on that occasion, he must be
+suffering pangs of regret to-day. Oh, how good, how sweet, how kind of
+it to rain and support her in what she had prophesied of Saturday
+weather!
+
+All at once a healing thought popped into her head. "I shall not live
+many years," she reflected--"not after losing Pitt, and having his
+mother crow over me, and that hateful Jennie Perkins, having the
+family hair wreath hanging over her sofa, and my wedding ring on her
+hand; but so long as I live I will keep account of rainy Saturdays,
+and find a way to send the record to Pitt every New Year's Day just to
+prove that I was right. Then I shall die young, and perhaps he will
+plant something on my grave, and water it with his tears; and perhaps
+he will put up a marble gravestone over me, unbeknownst to Jennie, and
+have an appropriate verse of Scripture carved on it, something like:
+
+                she openeth her mouth with wisdom;
+                and in her tongue is the law of kindness
+
+I can see it as plain as if it was written. I hope they will make it
+come out even on the edges, and that he will think to have a white
+marble dove perched on the top, unless it costs too much."
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+The years went on. Huldah surprised everybody by going away from home
+to get an education. She would have preferred marriage at that stage
+of her development, but to her mind there was no one worth marrying in
+Pleasant River save Pitt Packard, and, failing him, study would fill
+up the time as well as anything else.
+
+The education forced a good many helpful ideas into pretty Huldah's
+somewhat empty pate, though it by no means cured her of all her
+superstitions. She continued to keep a record of Saturday weather, and
+it proved as interesting and harmless a hobby as the collecting of
+china or postage-stamps.
+
+In course of time Pitt Packard moved to Goshen, Indiana, where he made
+a comfortable fortune by the invention of an estimable pump, after
+which he was known by his full name of W. Pitt Fessenden Packard. In
+course of time the impish and incredulous Jimmy Rumford became James,
+and espoused the daughter of a wealthy Boston merchant. His social
+advancement was no surprise to Huldah and her mother, for, from the
+moment he had left home, they had never dreamed of him save in
+conjunction with horned cattle, which is well known to signify
+unexampled prosperity.
+
+In course of time, too, old Mrs. Rumford was gathered to her fathers
+after a long illness, in which Huldah nursed her dutifully and well.
+Her death was not entirely unexpected, for Hannah Sophia Palmer
+observed spots like iron rust on her fingers, a dog howled every night
+under Almira Berry's window, and Huldah broke the kitchen
+looking-glass. No invalid could hope for recovery under these sinister
+circumstances, and Mrs. Rumford would have been the last woman in the
+world to fly in the face of such unmistakable signs of death. It is
+even rumored that when she heard the crash of glass in the kitchen she
+murmured piously, "Now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace," and
+expired within the hour.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+Nineteen summers and winters had passed since Pitt Packard drove "her
+that was Jennie Perkins" to Portland on her wedding-trip. He had been
+a good and loyal husband; she had been a good and faithful wife; and
+never once in the nineteen years had they so much as touched the hem
+of the garment of happiness.
+
+Huldah the Prophetess lived on in the old house alone. Time would have
+gone slowly and drearily enough had it not been for her ruling
+passion. If the first part of the week were fair, she was hopeful that
+there was greater chance of rain or snow by Saturday; if it were
+rainy, she hoped there would be a long storm. She kept an elaborate
+table showing the weather on every day of the year. Fair Saturdays
+were printed in red ink, foul Saturdays in jet-black. The last days of
+December were generally spent in preparing a succinct statement from
+these daily entries. Then in the month of January a neat document,
+presenting facts and figures, but no word of personal comment or
+communication, was addressed at first to Mr. W. P. Packard, and of
+late years to W. Pitt Fessenden Packard, and sent to Goshen, Indiana.
+
+Mr. Packard was a good and loyal husband, as I have said, but there
+was certainly no disloyalty in the annual perusal of statistical
+weather tables. That these tables, though made out by one of the
+weaker sex, were accurate and authentic, he had reason to believe,
+because he kept a rigid account of the weather himself, and compared
+Huldah's yearly record with his own. The weather in Pleasant River did
+not, it is true, agree absolutely with the weather in Goshen, but the
+similarity between Maine and Indiana Saturdays was remarkable. The
+first five years of Pitt's married life Huldah had the advantage, and
+the perusal of her tables afforded Pitt little satisfaction, since it
+proved that her superstitions had some apparent basis of reason. The
+next five years his turn came, and the fair Saturdays predominated. He
+was not any happier, however, on the whole, because, although he had
+the pleasure of being right himself, he lost the pleasure of believing
+Huldah right. So time went on until Mrs. Pitt died, and was buried
+under the handsomest granite monument that could be purchased by the
+sale of pumps. Not only were the funeral arrangements carried out with
+the liveliest consideration for the departed, but Mr. Packard
+abstained from all gay society and conducted himself with the greatest
+propriety. Nevertheless, when his partner and only confidential friend
+extolled Jennie's virtues as wife, housekeeper, companion, and church
+member, he remarked absently: "She was all that, Jim, but somehow I
+never liked her."
+
+For two years after his bereavement Huldah omitted sending her weather
+statistics to Mr. Packard, thinking, with some truth, that it might
+seem too marked an attention from an attractive Maine spinster to a
+"likely" Indiana widower.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+Matters were in this state when Mr. Packard alighted at the Edgewood
+station one bright day in August. He declined the offer of a drive,
+and soon found himself on the well-remembered road to Pleasant River.
+He had not trodden that dusty thoroughfare for many a year, and every
+tree and shrub and rock had a message for him, though he was a plain,
+matter-of-fact maker of pumps. There was no old home to revisit, for
+his stepmother had died long ago, and Jennie had conscientiously
+removed the family wreath from the glass case and woven some of the
+departed lady's hair into the funereal garland. He walked with the
+brisk step of a man who knew what he wanted, but there was a kind of
+breathless suspense in his manner which showed that he was uncertain
+of getting it. He passed the Whippoorwill Mill, the bubbling spring,
+the old moss-covered watering-trough, and then cut across the widow
+Buzzell's field straight to the Rumford farm. He kept rehearsing the
+subject-matter of a certain speech he intended to make. He knew it by
+heart, having repeated it once a day for several months, but nobody
+realized better than he that he would forget every word of it the
+moment he saw Huldah--at least, if the Huldah of to-day were anything
+like the Huldah of the olden time.
+
+The house came in sight. It used to be painted white; it was drab now,
+and there was a bay-window in the sitting-room. There was a new pump
+in the old place, and, happy omen, he discovered it was one of his own
+manufacture. He made his way by sheer force of habit past the kitchen
+windows to the side door. That was where they had quarreled mostly. He
+had a kind of sentiment about that side door. He paused a moment to
+hide his traveling-bag under the grapevine that shaded the porch, and
+as he raised his hand to grasp the knocker the blood rushed to his
+face and his heart leaped into his throat. Huldah stood near the
+window winding the old clock. In her right hand was a "Farmer's
+Almanac." How well he knew the yellow cover! and how like to the
+Huldah of seventeen was the Huldah of thirty-six! It was incredible
+that the pangs of disappointed love could make so little inroad on a
+woman's charms. Rosy cheeks, plump figure, clear eyes, with a little
+more snap in them than was necessary for connubial comfort, but not a
+whit too much for beauty; brown hair curling round her ears and
+temples--what an ornament to a certain house he knew in Goshen,
+Indiana!
+
+She closed the wooden door of the clock, and, turning, took a generous
+bite from the side of a mellow August sweeting that lay on the table.
+At this rather inauspicious moment her eye caught Pitt's. The sight of
+her old lover drove all prudence and reserve from her mind, and she
+came to the door with such an intoxicating smile and such welcoming
+hands that he would have kissed her then and there, even if he had not
+come to Pleasant River for that especial purpose. Of course he forgot
+the speech, but his gestures were convincing, and he mumbled a
+sufficient number of extracts from it to convince Huldah that he was
+in a proper frame of mind--this phrase meaning to a woman the one in
+which she can do anything she likes with a man.
+
+They were too old, doubtless, to cry and laugh in each other's arms,
+and ask forgiveness for past follies, and regret the wasted years, and
+be thankful for present hope and life and love; but that is what they
+did, old as they were.
+
+"I wouldn't have any business to ask you to marry such a dictatorial
+fool as I used to be, Huldah," said Pitt; "but I've got over
+considerable of my foolishness, and do say you will. Say, too, you
+won't make me wait any longer, but marry me Sunday or Monday. This is
+Thursday, and I must be back in Goshen next week at this time. Will
+you, Huldah?"
+
+Huldah blushed, but shook her head. She looked lovely when she
+blushed, and she hadn't lost the trick of it even at thirty-six.
+
+"I know it's soon; but never mind getting ready. If you won't say
+Monday, make it Tuesday--do."
+
+She shook her head again.
+
+"Wednesday, then. _Do_ say Wednesday, Huldy dear."
+
+The same smile of gentle negation.
+
+He dropped her hand disconsolately.
+
+"Then I'll have to come back at Christmas-time, I s'pose. It's just my
+busy season now, or I would stay right here on this doorstep till you
+was ready, for it seems to me as if I'd been waiting for you ever
+since I was born, and couldn't get you too soon."
+
+"Do you really want me to marry you so much, Pitt?"
+
+"Never wanted anything so bad in my life."
+
+"Didn't you wonder I wasn't more surprised to see you to-day?"
+
+"Nothing surprises me in women-folks."
+
+"Well, it was because I've dreamed of a funeral three nights running.
+Do you know what that's a sign of?"
+
+Pitt never winked an eyelash; he had learned his lesson. With a sigh
+of relief that his respected stepmother was out of hearing, he
+responded easily, "I s'pose it's a sign somebody's dead or going to
+die."
+
+"No, it isn't: dreams go by contraries. It's a sign there's going to
+be a wedding."
+
+"I'm glad to know that much, but I wish while you was about it you'd
+have dreamt a little more, and found out when the wedding was going to
+be."
+
+"I did; and if you weren't the stupidest man alive you could guess."
+
+"I know I'm slow-witted," said Pitt meekly, for he was in a mood to
+endure anything, "but I've asked you to have me on every day there is
+except the one I'm afraid to name."
+
+"You know I've had plenty of offers."
+
+"Unless all the men-folks are blind, you must have had a thousand,
+Huldah."
+
+Huldah was distinctly pleased. As a matter of fact she had had only
+five; but five offers in the State of Maine implies a superhuman power
+of attraction not to be measured by the casual reader.
+
+"Are you sorry you called me a mass of superstition?"
+
+"I wish I'd been horsewhipped where I stood."
+
+"Very well, then. The first time you wouldn't marry me at all unless
+you could have me Friday, and of course I wouldn't take you Friday
+under those circumstances. Now you say you're glad and willing to
+marry me any day in the week, and so I'll choose Friday of my own
+accord. I'll marry you to-morrow, Pitt: and"--here she darted a
+roguishly sibylline glance at the clouds--"I have a water-proof; have
+you an umbrella for Saturday?"
+
+Pitt took her at her word, you may be sure, and married her the next
+day, but I wish you could have seen it rain on Saturday! There never
+was such a storm in Pleasant River. The road to the Edgewood station
+was a raging flood; but though the bride and groom were drenched to
+the skin they didn't take cold--they were too happy. Love within is a
+beautiful counter-irritant.
+
+Huldah didn't mind waiting a little matter of nineteen years, so long
+as her maiden flag sank in a sea of triumph at the end; and it is but
+simple justice to an erring but attractive woman to remark that she
+never said "I told you so!" to her husband.
+
+
+
+
+TWO ON A TOUR
+
+
+LOG-BOOK OF CHARLOTTE AMALIA CLIFFORD
+
+                                       S.S. Diana, January 21, 1918
+                                   On the way to the Virgin Islands
+
+I engrossed the above heading in my journal shortly after we left the
+dock in New York, but from what has occurred in the past few days I
+think my occasional entries in the log-book are likely to be records
+of Dorothea Valentine's love-affairs as they occur to her day by day,
+and as unluckily they are poured into my ear for lack of a better or
+more convenient vessel.
+
+We are dear friends, Dolly and I. Her name is Dorothea, but apparently
+she will have to grow up to it, for at present everybody calls her
+Dolly, Dora, Dot, or Dodo, according to his or her sex, color, or
+previous condition of servitude. Dolly is twenty and I am thirty;
+indeed, her mother is only forty, so that I am rather her contemporary
+than Dolly's, but friendship is more a matter of sympathy than
+relative age, and Mrs. Valentine and I are by no means twin souls. As
+a matter of fact, that lady would never have noticed me, the private
+secretary of Clive Winthrop, a government official in Washington, had
+it not been that, through him and his sister, I had access to a more
+interesting group in society than had Mrs. Valentine, a widow of large
+means but a stranger in the Capital. Clive Winthrop is a person of
+distinction and influence, and Miss Ellen Winthrop, an old friend of
+my mother's, is one of the most charming hostesses in Washington,
+while I am in reality nothing but a paid scribe; the glad, willing,
+ardent, but silent assistant of a man who is serving the
+Administration with all his heart; but neither he nor his sister will
+have it so considered. I almost think that Miss Ellen Winthrop, still
+vivacious and vigorous at seventy, is ready to give up to me her place
+as head of the household if I consent to say the word; but I am not
+sure enough yet to say it; and because of that uncertainty I cannot
+trust myself in the daily company of the two persons most deeply
+concerned in my decision.
+
+A sea voyage is the best thing in the world to blow away doubts or
+difficulties; it also clears the air so that one can see one's course,
+whether it be toward the north of duty or the south of desire.
+
+My work for a long time has been to report interviews, take
+stenographic records, and write hundreds of letters for Mr. Winthrop
+during the somewhat protracted discussion that preceded the
+acquisition of the Virgin Islands by the United States. It is odd that
+these tasks should have fallen to me, who added below Clive Winthrop's
+signature to many communications the typed initials C. A. C., for I
+have a special interest in these new possessions of ours, a very close
+and sentimental one, since I was born on St. Thomas, one of the Virgin
+Islands, and christened Charlotte Amalia after the little red-roofed
+town on the shore of the perfect harbor. My birth in St. Thomas was
+entirely unpremeditated, and I was taken away as soon as my mother was
+able to travel; nevertheless, I have always longed during the twelve
+years of my loneliness, without father or mother, to see the place
+where they were so happy in each other and so blissful in the prospect
+of my appearance.
+
+I, then, have a right to this particular holiday and this opportunity
+to decide my future. Miss Dorothea Valentine, on the contrary, is a
+wholly unexpected, I will not say an unwelcome, companion, although
+when I wish to be thinking of my own problems she generally desires to
+discuss hers, which are trivial, though interesting and unique.
+
+Everything about the girl piques interest; her beauty, her charm, her
+childlike gayety and inconsequence, which are but the upper current of
+a deeper sea of sincerity and common sense. Somebody says: "Ladies
+vary in looks; they're like military flags for a funeral or a
+celebration--one day furled, next day streaming. Men are ships;
+figureheads, about the same in a storm or a calm, and not too
+handsome, thanks to the ocean." The last phrases are peculiarly true
+of Clive Winthrop, who is sometimes called the ugliest man in
+Washington, yet who commands attention in any room that he enters
+because of his fine physique, his noble head, and his distinction of
+bearing and speech. Rugged he is, "thanks to the ocean," but he looks
+as if he could swim against the strongest current. On the other hand,
+it cannot be said that Dolly Valentine varies. She is lovely at
+breakfast, lovelier at luncheon, and loveliest at dinner when the
+dazzling whiteness of her neck and shoulders is revealed. Only a
+tolerably generous woman would suffer herself to be in the almost
+daily companionship of such a charmer, and that I am in that dangerous
+juxtaposition is her fault, not mine.
+
+"You must take me with you on your sea voyage, Charlotte," she said.
+"I must get away from Washington and from mother. No, don't raise your
+eye-brows and begin to scold before you know what I mean! I am not
+going to criticize my maternal parent, but I am so under her thumb at
+the moment that I am a flabby mass of indecision. I have no more mind
+than a jellyfish, yet I have to decide a matter of vital importance
+within a month. How can I make up a non-existent mind? Answer me that.
+Your life is so fixed and serene and settled; so full of absorbing
+work; you are so flattered and appreciated that you are like a big
+ship anchored in a safe harbor, and you can't think what it's like to
+be a silly little yacht bobbing about on the open sea!" (Such is the
+uncomprehending viewpoint of twenty toward thirty; the calm assumption
+that ladies of that mature age can have no love-affairs of their own
+to perplex them!)
+
+"There is no need of your being a silly little yacht, Dolly!" I
+answered. "If you want to make a real voyage you have the power to
+choose your craft."
+
+"Mother always chooses for me," she said with a pout. "She doesn't gag
+me and put me in irons and lead me up the gangplank by brute force,
+but she dominates me. I start out each morning like a nice, fat, pink
+balloon and by evening, though I haven't felt any violent pin-pricks,
+I am nothing but a little shrunken heap of shriveled rubber. You know
+it, Charlotte! You have seen me bouncing at breakfast and seen me flat
+at dinner!"
+
+It was impossible not to laugh at her. "Don't be ridiculous!" I
+expostulated. "There is nothing between you and happiness but a little
+cloud so diaphanous that a breath of common sense would blow it away.
+Now read your magazine and let me write in my log-book. It is intended
+to be an informal report to my chief, of the islands we are to visit.
+We shall be at St. Thomas to-morrow morning and in the four days we
+have been journeying from New York the only topic of conversation in
+which you have shown the slightest enthusiasm is whether you should or
+should not marry Marmaduke Hogg!"
+
+"Don't call him all of it, Charlotte," and she shuddered. "Mother is
+always doing it and I can't bear it!" whereupon she flounced about on
+her deck-chair and hid her face in her steamer-rug.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+It was a foolish little love-story, that of Dorothea Valentine. Her
+mother was a mass of polite and unnecessary conventions; a pretty sort
+of person with a clear profile like that of a cold, old little bird.
+Her small, sharp nose resembled a beak; her eyes were like two black
+beads; and her conversation was a lengthy series of twitterings.
+Charlotte Clifford used to tell Miss Winthrop that if Mrs. Valentine
+had been a canary, people would have forever been putting a towel over
+her cage to secure silence. She was always idle, save for a
+bewildering succession of reconstruction periods, apparently
+forestalling ruins that no one else could have prophesied. She dieted
+and reduced her hips; had violet rays applied to her scalp; had her
+wrinkles ironed out by some mysterious process. If you caught her
+before ten in the morning you would find her with crescent-shaped bits
+of court-plaster beside her eyes, in front of her ears, and between
+her brows. She was beautifully clothed, shod, gloved, massaged,
+manicured, and marcelled. She lived on the best sides of the streets
+and at the proper hotels. She answered notes, returned calls, and gave
+wedding presents punctiliously. She never used the telephone for
+invitations, nor had anything but contempt for abbreviations,
+carefully writing out Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, and Minneapolis,
+Minnesota, when she addressed her sisters in those cities. A mass of
+the most glaring virtues was Mrs. Reginald Valentine, impeccable and
+unassailable, with views on all subjects as rigid as the laws of the
+Medes and Persians. She had ordered her husband's life during their
+ten years of marriage, he being a gentle and artistic soul, and she
+had more or less directed his exercise, amusements, diet, as well as
+his political and religious opinions. She nursed him faithfully in his
+last illness, but when he timidly begged to be cremated instead of
+buried, she reminded him that it was a radical, ultra-modern idea;
+that the Valentine lot and monument were very beautiful; that there
+never had been any cremations in the family connection; and that she
+hoped he would not break a long-established custom and leave behind
+him a positively irreligious request. Various stories of Mr.
+Valentine's docility had crept into circulation, and it is said that
+on this occasion he turned his head meekly to the wall and sighed:
+"Very well, Emma! Do just as you think best; it's your funeral!"
+
+Just how Dorothea blossomed on this stalk it is difficult to say. A
+bright-eyed, sunshiny, willful baby, she had grown into an unaffected,
+attractive, breezy young woman, outwardly obedient, inwardly mutinous.
+She was generally calm in her mother's presence, never criticizing her
+openly, and her merry heart kept her from being really unhappy in a
+relationship that many girls would have found intolerable. Beaux she
+had a-plenty and lovers not a few. As cream or honey to flies, so was
+Dorothea Valentine to mankind in general; but she took them on gayly
+and cast them off lightly, little harm being done on either side by
+the brief experience.
+
+Of course the suits of some of the suitors had been hard-pressed by
+Mrs. Valentine. "You will go through the woods to find a crooked stick
+at last, Dorothea," she would say. "You don't know a desirable _parti_
+when you see one. You must have an extraordinary opinion of your own
+charms to think that you have only to pick and choose. Those charms
+will fade, rather prematurely, I fear, and when your looked-for ideal
+comes along it may be that he will not regard you as flawless."
+
+"I don't expect him to, mother! I only expect him to find my own flaws
+interesting."
+
+"There is no certainty of that, my dear,"--and Mrs. Valentine's tone
+was touched with cynicism. "I had an intimate friend once, Clara
+Wyman, a very nice girl she was, who had been in love with my cousin
+Roger Benson for years. He seemed much attached to her and when time
+went by and nothing happened, I spoke to him plainly one night and
+asked him if he didn't intend to propose to her, and if not, what were
+his reasons. What do you suppose they were?"
+
+Mrs. Valentine's tone implied that a shock was coming.
+
+Dolly sat erect on her mother's Italian day-bed as one prepared.
+
+"I'm sure I have no idea--how could I have?" she asked.
+
+"Roger said that he didn't like her wiping her nose through her
+veil!!"
+
+Dolly flung herself at length on the couch and buried her face in the
+cushions, her whole body shaking convulsively with silent mirth.
+
+"You may laugh, Dorothea, but this incident, which I have told many
+times, shows how fantastic, erratic, despotic, and hypercritical men
+generally are. You will come to your senses some time and realize that
+no one is likely to bear with your perversities more patiently than
+Arthur Wilde or Lee Wadsworth, who have both wasted a winter dangling
+about you."
+
+Dolly raised her head, patted her hair, and wiped her streaming eyes.
+
+"I realize the dangerous obstacles between me and the altar as I never
+did before,"--and the girl's voice was full of laughter. "But I should
+have to lock Arthur Wilde in the basement whenever professors came to
+dinner. I couldn't marry Arthur's vocabulary, mother,--I couldn't!"
+
+"He is a wonderful son, and a millionaire; he has three houses, four
+motors, and a steam yacht!"
+
+"Sure, but that don't 'enthuse me,' 'tremenjous' as it sounds! (I am
+imitating Mr. Wilde's style of conversation.) And as for Lee Wadsworth
+he is bow-legged!"
+
+"Lee's reputation is straight at any rate, and his income all that
+could be desired," responded Mrs. Valentine loftily. "I wish I could
+convince you, Dorothea, that there are no perfect husbands. You are
+looking for the impossible! Indeed, I have always found men singularly
+imperfect, even as friends and companions, and in a more intimate
+relation they leave still more to be desired. You dismissed Sir Thomas
+Scott because he was too dictatorial, although you knew he intended to
+have the family diamonds reset for you."
+
+"He'd have had them reset in Sheffield or Birmingham, but, anyhow, one
+doesn't marry diamonds, mother."
+
+"One might at least make the effort, Dorothea! I notice that most of
+the people who disdain diamonds generally possess three garnets, two
+amethysts, and one Mexican opal."
+
+Dolly laughed. "You know I did emulate the celebrated Mrs. Dombey,
+mother."
+
+"I know you made a very brief and feeble effort to be sensible, and
+you might have conquered yourself had it not been for the sudden
+appearance of this young Hogg on your horizon."
+
+"You shall not call him a young Hogg!" cried Dolly passionately. "It
+isn't fair; I won't endure it!"
+
+"I thought that was his name," remarked Mrs. Valentine, placidly
+shifting a wrinkle-plaster from one place to another. "You wouldn't
+object if I had alluded to young Benham or young Wadsworth. You show
+by your very excitement how disagreeable his name is to your ears. It
+isn't a question of argument; Marmaduke Hogg is an outrageous,
+offensive name; if he had been Charles or James it would have been
+more decent. The 'Marmaduke' simply calls attention to the 'Hogg.' If
+any one had asked to introduce a person named Hogg to me I should have
+declined."
+
+"I've told you a dozen times, mother, that the Wilmots' house-party
+was at breakfast when I arrived from the night train. There was a
+perfect Babel and everybody was calling him 'Duke.' He looked like
+one, and nobody said--the other. I didn't even hear his last name till
+evening, and then it was too late."
+
+"'Too late!' Really, Dorothea, if you have no sense of propriety you
+may leave the room!"--and Mrs. Valentine applied the smelling-bottle
+to her birdlike nose as a sign that her nerves were racked to the
+limit and she might at any moment succumb.
+
+"All I know is," continued Dorothea obstinately, "that he was the
+best-looking, the most interesting, the cleverest, the most
+companionable man in the house-party, or for that matter in the
+universe. You don't ask the last name of Orlando, or Benedick, or
+Marcus Aurelius, or Albert of Belgium."
+
+"It wouldn't be necessary." (Here Mrs. Valentine was quite
+imperturbable.) "The Valentines have never been required to associate
+with theatrical people or foreigners. In some ways I dislike the name
+of Marmaduke as much as Hogg. It is so bombastic that it seems somehow
+like an assumed name, or as if the creature had been born on the
+stage. When coupled with Hogg it loses what little distinction it
+might have had by itself. One almost wishes it had been Marmalade.
+Marmalade Hogg suggests a quite nauseating combination of food, but
+there is a certain appropriateness about it."
+
+Dorothea's face was flaming. "You will never allow Duke to explain
+himself, mother, nor hear me through when I attempt to make things
+clear to you. You never acknowledge that you know, but you do know,
+that Duke's people were English a long way back, and 'Marmaduke' is an
+old family name. The Winthrops will tell you that Duke's father and
+mother were named Forrest and that they changed it to Hogg to pacify
+an old bachelor uncle who wanted to leave Duke six thousand dollars a
+year. He had no voice in the matter; he was only twelve years old."
+
+"It was a very short-sighted business proposition, and your Duke must
+have been very young for his age,"--and Mrs. Valentine took another
+deep sniff of lavender. "Sixty thousand a year wouldn't induce me to
+be named Hogg, and I shall never consent to have one in my family!"
+
+Dorothea burst into tears, a most uncommon occurrence.
+
+"You have dwelt so long on this purely immaterial objection," she
+sobbed, "that you have finally inoculated me with something of your
+own feeling and made me miserable and ashamed. I dare say, too, I have
+hurt Duke's pride by trying to give him a reason for your indifferent
+attitude, yet never having courage for the real, piffling explanation.
+I am mortified at my despicable weakness and I will overcome it by
+realizing how unworthy I am to bear Duke's honorable, unstained name,
+even if it is Hogg. You might as well give up, mother! If the dearest,
+best, most delightful man in the world loves me, I shall marry him,
+name and all."
+
+"I do not regard it as settled," replied Mrs. Valentine calmly. "The
+young man may not think you so desirable when he learns that my
+refusal to accept him as a son-in-law means that he must take you
+without any income. Your dear father must have foreseen some such
+tragedy when he left all his money in my care!"
+
+"Duke will take me without a penny!" cried Dorothea hotly. "I would
+stake my life on that!"
+
+"Don't be melodramatic, Dorothea. We shall see in time. It is just
+possible that the young man may not be greedy, and so belie his name."
+This was Mrs. Valentine's last shaft as Dorothea walked out of the
+room with her chin in the air.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+                                       S.S. Diana, January 26, 1918
+
+St. Thomas, and Charlotte Amalia, the little town for which I was
+named, looked so lovely when we landed early this morning that I felt
+a positive thrill of pride.
+
+This halfway house of the sea, this gateway of the Caribbean, as it
+has been picturesquely called, seemed, as Dolly and I climbed the
+hills and the stone stairways, to materialize into a birthplace
+instead of a vague dream. A year ago, with the _Dannebrog_, the
+scarlet, white-crossed banner of Denmark, floating over the red Danish
+fortress on the water-front, I might have felt an alien, but the Stars
+and Stripes made me feel at home and I could only remember that my
+father and mother met and loved each other in this little Paradise,
+and that when I was born there they were the two happiest people under
+the sun. If they could have seen their daughter saluting the American
+flag so near the very spot in which she first saw the light, they
+would have been comforted, I am sure, instead of repining that they
+had both been taken away when she most needed their love and
+protection.
+
+Such a view from Diana's deck as we crept into the wonderful harbor! A
+background of towering green hills and a dazzling blue of velvet sky
+and crystal sea, like that of Algiers, greeted our enchanted gaze!
+Like some of the coast towns of Italy, Charlotte Amalia is gay with
+color, and its white, red-roofed villas nestle among their luxuriant
+gardens and tropical foliage, standing out in a perfect riot of orange
+and yellow, blue and red.
+
+Never, save in Venice, have I seen such a gorgeous array of color in a
+landscape.
+
+Five hours we had in St. Thomas while the Diana put off hundreds of
+barrels of cement; but what with the gayly painted boats and their
+dark-skinned crews, the naked brown boys diving and swimming for
+pennies and dimes in the harbor, a walk to Bluebeard's Tower and
+Blackbeard's Castle, we were well amused. Particularly so was
+Dorothea, who disappeared from my side for a half-hour while I chatted
+with the captain, rejoining me in the tiny palm-bordered park near the
+landing.
+
+She was glowing with happiness.
+
+"What do you think, Charlotte?" she exclaimed. "I have a letter from
+Duke. Not written after we sailed, of course, for it couldn't have
+reached me. He bearded mother in her fortress the morning we left
+Washington. She was out, or said she was, but sent a note saying that
+I had gone on a journey and would be absent for a month. He went
+directly to the Winthrops for news and they told him I was with you
+and that if he wrote at once by special delivery he could reach the
+ship before it left New York dock. He sent the letter to the captain
+and asked him to give it to me at St. Thomas for a surprise. The
+captain is such a nice man, though a good deal of a tease! Mr.
+Winthrop was delighted to hear you were not alone. Poor Miss Winthrop
+has influenza and they both wish they had taken this trip. It seems
+they are thinking of it just a little."
+
+"The Winthrops coming on this voyage," I exclaimed. "Impossible! They
+hadn't an idea of it."
+
+"Mightn't he want to interview the governor and look at the island?"
+
+"He hasn't time. I chose this journey instead of another so that I
+could interview the governor and look at the islands myself."
+
+"Well, I dare say there's nothing in it. Duke didn't speak of it as
+anything settled, and he may have misunderstood, his mind being on me.
+May I read you the letter--I mean parts of it?"
+
+"I shouldn't expect to hear all of it," I replied dryly.
+
+"Yet the bits I leave out are the ones that show him as he is," she
+said, looking off into the grove of palms. "Duke is so conscientious
+that until we succeed in melting mother--that would be a good title
+for a story, 'Melting Mother'!--and until she sanctions an engagement
+he won't let himself go, even on paper. So I get only a lovely sort of
+'seepage' that breaks through in spite of him!"
+
+"Skip the seepage," I said unsympathetically, "and give the news."
+
+She re-read the first paragraphs to herself with a good deal of
+dimpling and with eyes that suffused with feeling now and then, and
+turning the page began to read aloud:
+
+  Knowing that you were on the high seas far away from me, though
+  safe with your charming Miss Clifford (Duke admires you
+  extravagantly, Charlotte!), I concluded to burn my ships and
+  have a straightforward talk with your mother, although you have
+  repeatedly warned me that this was not the best method of
+  approach and that only patience would win my cause. I sent up my
+  card at the New Willard, and doubtless she would have refused to
+  receive me, but, going from the office to one of the reception
+  rooms to await her, I found her seated there with your
+  Philadelphia aunt and another lady. There had evidently been
+  confidences, so they scented trouble and took to their heels
+  when I had been introduced to them somewhat informally as a
+  friend of Dorothea's, my name not being mentioned.
+
+  I asked your mother, when we were left alone, if she had any
+  objection to me other than my uneuphonious and suggestive
+  surname.
+
+  She replied guardedly, no, or at least nothing in particular,
+  though she might say without conceit that Dorothea might aspire
+  to anybody, even the highest.
+
+  I cordially agreed, saying that if the male sex had any eye for
+  beauty, charm or loveliness of character, Dorothea might marry
+  not only anybody but everybody.
+
+  She said she thought persiflage was out of taste when the
+  happiness of a mother's whole life was in question.
+
+  I begged pardon, but said it was necessary for me to whistle to
+  keep my courage up, for the happiness of _my_ whole life was in
+  question.
+
+  She said that was beside the point and her daughter's happiness
+  must also be considered.
+
+  I remarked that her daughter, to my infinite surprise and
+  gratitude, assured me that her happiness lay in the same
+  direction as my own.
+
+  She vouchsafed the information that Dorothea was a romantic
+  fool.
+
+  I denied it.
+
+  She dealt what she considered to be a body-blow by affirming
+  that your property would not be in your hands till you were
+  twenty-one.
+
+  I replied that I didn't care if it didn't reach you till you
+  were a hundred and twenty-one.
+
+  She said, "Don't be silly," and asked me if I had ever thought
+  of changing my name back to Forrest from Hogg.
+
+  I inquired in return if she would mind the loss of six thousand
+  dollars a year, supposing that I should take such a step.
+
+  She reflected and said that she should, but she would rather
+  lose it than take the name; and that we could rub along on
+  Dorothea's money, she supposed, if that was my idea of a
+  pleasant life.
+
+  I hastened to say that I would relinquish the six thousand
+  without a pang, confident that I could make a living anyway; but
+  that it would be disloyal to my good old uncle, whose bounty had
+  given me a college course, two years at Oxford and three at
+  Harvard Law School. It had also permitted me to give my services
+  to the United States Shipping Board without compensation.
+
+  She said she thought it was very selfish in a government to
+  accept a man's whole time and give him no remuneration; that the
+  Secretary of the Treasury had only to say to the banks, "Let
+  there be money," and there was money. There would be plenty for
+  everybody if only the engravers and laborers at the Mint would
+  not strike.
+
+  I reminded her that men were remunerated sufficiently in being
+  allowed to serve their country in time of war.
+
+  She returned that she thought that point of view foolish and
+  fantastic, but if she found, after a year, that her daughter's
+  peace of mind was threatened, would I then change my name and
+  live on Dorothea's income until I could establish myself in the
+  practice of the law? She said that I must acknowledge that this
+  was a ridiculously generous proposition and one that neither my
+  talents nor my station in life merited.
+
+  I replied that the proposition meant to me that I should simply
+  be selling myself and buying her daughter, and that I declined
+  to accept it.
+
+("Oh, Charlotte!" the girl interrupted with a catch in her throat,
+"don't you think that was splendid and clever, too?")
+
+  Your mother said that she wished to take the matter into
+  consideration during your absence [so the letter ran on], and
+  just as we were rising the Philadelphia aunt came in from one
+  door and General X, Senator Y, and Lord Z from another.
+
+  They are at the moment three of the most significant figures in
+  the moving picture of Washington society, and all women pursue
+  them. They beamed at me as if they had been commandeered for
+  that special purpose, and Senator Y said jovially: "How are you,
+  Duke? Glad to see you. Are you free to dine with us?"
+
+  I hastily turned to your mother, saying: "I was just going to
+  ask you and your sister if you would dine with me."
+
+  Lord Z, who was at Balliol with me, you remember, said: "Then
+  perhaps you will allow us to come to your table for coffee,
+  Hogg?" Your mother gazed at him, astounded that his noble tongue
+  could utter the name. Then she actually and gracefully "fell"
+  for the dinner, lured by the bait of the post-prandial coffee
+  with the distinguished trio, and the Philadelphia aunt kept
+  things going serenely. She is a delightful person and will be a
+  perfect companion for your mother when--you know when--when she
+  needs one--and I no longer do!
+
+("There never was a man who said things like Duke!" interpolated Dolly
+ecstatically.)
+
+  All would have gone swimmingly to the end had not a page
+  suddenly entered the room bawling: "Mr. Hogg wanted at the
+  telephone: Mr. Hogg? Telephone message for Mr. HOGG!"
+
+  Only capitals can give an idea of the volume of voice. My
+  ear-drum, grown painfully sensitive since I met your mother,
+  echoed and reechoed with the tone as I threaded my way through
+  the crowded room, followed by every eye, while I imagined people
+  saying: "I wonder if he's called to the stockyard?" (It is
+  queer, but I never felt this way in Oxford, for they still
+  remember Hogg, the Scottish poet, and I hung myself to his
+  revered coat-tails.)
+
+  The telephone message was from my secretary, and healed my
+  wounded vanity, for it came from the British Embassy conveying
+  the thanks of the Foreign Office for Mr. Hogg's friendly and
+  helpful action in conducting negotiations for the chartering of
+  ex-enemy ships lying in South American ports.
+
+("You see what he is!" exclaimed Dolly, looking up from the letter
+with eyes full of unshed tears! "Of course he has five or six
+superiors in office but I suppose really that Duke's extraordinary
+talent keeps that whole shipping board going! You mark my words,
+Charlotte, when Duke gives up his position and goes to Plattsburg
+there'll be an absolute slump in that office! But just hear what
+follows; it is so discouraging!")
+
+  But when, glowing with the delight that always comes to me when
+  I have any little tribute to lay with my love at your charming
+  number-three feet, when I returned to my table your mother had
+  gone to her room and the Philadelphia aunt remained to explain
+  that she had been taken suddenly ill.
+
+  "It will all come right, Mr.--my dear boy!" she said. "My sister
+  has one weakness, an abnormal sensitiveness to public opinion.
+  She thinks constantly what people will say of this, that, or the
+  other trifling thing, and in that way perpetually loses sight of
+  the realities of life. There is a great deal of good in her that
+  you have never seen because for the moment she is absolutely
+  obsessed by her objection to your name and her conviction that
+  Dorothea might and should marry a title. My sister married
+  Reginald Valentine more for the effect on her future
+  visiting-card than anything else, but Dorothea's father
+  bequeathed his good looks, his sunny disposition, his charm, and
+  his generous nature to his daughter. You have chosen wisely, my
+  dear Mr.--boy, but not more wisely, to my mind, than Dorothea
+  has!"
+
+  So it ended, but I somehow hope that I may have converted your
+  mother from an enemy alien to an armed neutral!
+
+"There is nothing more of--of--general interest," said Dolly
+tearfully, as she slipped the letter in the envelope. "Aunt Maggie is
+a trump. Oh, Charlotte! if only you had ever had a love-problem like
+mine and could advise me! Duke always wondered that you never
+married."
+
+(Dorothea ought to be cuffed for impertinence, but she is too
+unconscious and too pretty and lovable for corporal punishment.)
+
+"Perhaps there may still be hope even at thirty!" I said stiffly.
+
+"Oh, I didn't mean that! You might have anybody by lifting your
+finger! We only wonder you've never lifted it! But you could be happy
+only with a very learned and prominent man, you are so clever!"
+
+"I'm clever enough to prefer love to learning, if I have to choose,
+Dolly, my dear."
+
+"I'm so sorry you didn't get a letter, Charlotte," said the girl,
+snuggling sympathetically to my side on the bench.
+
+This was more than flesh and blood or angel could bear!
+
+I kissed her, and, shaking her off my shoulder vigorously, I said, as
+I straightened my hat: "As a matter of fact, Miss Valentine, I have
+had a letter every day since we left New York; a letter delivered
+before breakfast by the steward. You have had but one, yet you are
+twenty and I am thirty!"
+
+"_Charlotte!_"
+
+"Don't add to your impudence by being too astonished, darling," I
+continued. "Come! let's go and pick bananas and pineapples and
+tamarinds and shaddocks and star-apples and sapodillas!"
+
+"I won't budge a step till you tell me all about it!"
+
+"Then you'll grow to this green bench and have to be cut away by your
+faithful Marmaduke!"
+
+"Is it a secret?"
+
+"It doesn't exist at all for you. You are not of age, Dolly."
+
+"I'm old enough to know the things one can learn by heart!" was
+Dolly's comment.
+
+When the Diana was leaving St. Thomas at sunset and we were well on
+our way to St. Croix, Dolly made a half confidence.
+
+"You are not my chaperon, Charlotte, because in my hour of need I
+simply fastened myself to you like a limpet, or an albatross, or a
+barnacle, or any other form of nautical vampire that you prefer.
+Still, I might as well confess that I cabled to Duke, or wirelessed,
+or did something awfully expensive of that sort at St. Thomas while
+you were having that interminable talk with the captain, who, by the
+way, is married and devoted to his wife, they say."
+
+"That was foolish and extravagant, my child," I answered. "I don't
+know what you said, but I have the most absolute confidence in your
+indiscretion. I hope you remembered that all messages are censored in
+war-time?"
+
+"I did, indeed," she sighed. "I was never so hampered and handicapped
+in my life, but I think I have outwitted the censors. I wish I were as
+sure about--mother!"
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+                                             S.S. Diana, January 26
+
+St. Croix was delightful, with a motor-ride across the island from
+Frederikstad to Christianstad, where we lunched.
+
+Dolly's mind is not in a state especially favorable for instruction,
+but I took a guidebook, and, sitting under a wonderful tamarind tree,
+read her Alexander Hamilton's well-known letter describing a West
+Indian hurricane, written from St. Croix in 1772.
+
+We were with a party of Canadian acquaintances made on shipboard and
+greatly interested in our first visits to sugar plantations. Vast
+cane-fields of waving green stretched mile after mile on the right and
+on the left, making it seem incredible that a Food Commissioner need
+beg the sweet tooth to deny itself in the midst of such riotous
+plenty.
+
+There was a dazzling glare from the white buildings of the town and
+the coral roads, but the moment we reached the outlying country all
+was verdant and restful. The beautiful hard roads ran like white
+ribbons over velvet hills and through rich valleys; tall windmills,
+belonging to the earlier days of sugar-making, rose picturesquely from
+the magnificent palms and other shade-trees; there were brilliant
+flowers and blossoming vines breaking through hedges here and there,
+and acres of pineapples and orange groves. Truly, our Canadian
+companions might wish us luck in our new possessions!
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+                                                   Later in the day
+
+We have left the Virgin Islands now and at dawn we neared St. Kitts,
+of the Leeward group, anchoring a half-mile away from the landing and
+putting passengers ashore in the small boats that ranged themselves
+near the steamer. There was a very bedlam of chatter, argument, and
+recrimination among the black boatmen, mounting at times to furious
+invective in a patois we failed wholly to understand, for though the
+majority of the natives speak English on all the islands, whether
+Dutch, French, or British, they use a language of their own vintage on
+these undress occasions. I could see Dolly's bright head and laughing
+eyes peeping through her porthole, nodding good-morning to me as I
+viewed the scene from my own little stateroom opposite hers.
+
+The St. Kitts boatmaster was a superb personage in white linen uniform
+and cap. He stood at the top of the steps lowered from our steamer to
+the ocean, and from that serene height of power commanded his
+clamorous and refractory legions.
+
+It was his voice that called me irresistibly from my berth and kept my
+ears, as well as my eyes, glued to the porthole of my cabin. It was a
+deep, rich barytone, as full of color as his own native skies and sea.
+The white cap set off his dark skin, and a pair of eyes that shot
+lightnings of authority gleamed from under his vizor. He ought to have
+been singing the "Pagliacci" prologue at the Metropolitan Opera House,
+but instead he was calling resonantly (his private megaphone seemed to
+be located in his own throat): "_Don't crowd, Edward.... Push in,
+Victoria.... Get away, George.... Come nearer, come nearer, Mary....
+Show your number, Albert, or meet me in court to-morrow at eleven!_"
+
+As a matter of fact, these were the names painted on the boats
+crowding and jamming their way to the most favorable places for
+securing passengers or freight; but the quality of his voice made it
+seem as if, in calling Victoria, Edward, George, Mary, and Albert, he
+were summoning a corporeal bevy of kings and queens to do his instant
+bidding. The excitement reached its climax when an aged bishop
+descended the stairway, which was under some circumstances as perilous
+as a ladder. The bishop's quaint hat and gown and hood of various
+colors made him seem like a benign figure in comic opera; and perhaps
+because of his dignity or his multiplicity of luggage, all the boats
+ardently desired him as a passenger. Two green boxes, carrying much
+information painted in white on the sides, gave us all details of his
+rank, ancestry, and place of residence. These were projected down the
+stairway and then followed an imposing procession of servitors bearing
+potted plants, packages done up in linen cloth, baskets of eggs,
+limes, lemons, grapefruit, a canary in a cage, some white mice, and a
+Persian cat; the last three, it is needless to say, being in separate
+crates.
+
+Majestic being, that St. Kitts boatmaster; never more impressive than
+when he successfully landed a bishop of the isles! Dolly and I
+recalled the "Admirable Crichton" in Barrie's whimsical play, who, as
+butler in a titled English family, was wrecked with the entire
+household on a desert island. It needed only the emergencies of
+twenty-four hours to establish him as the dominant intellectual force
+and the practical governor of the sadly inefficient earls, countesses,
+ladies, and honorables; and before long he assumed the authority
+properly belonging to him. That the earl's daughter finally fell in
+love with him seemed not so much dramatic license as a tribute to his
+obvious superiority. In London the lady would have been criticized as
+marrying beneath her; on the desert island it actually appeared as if
+she were doing particularly well for herself; indeed, Dolly confessed
+that though she would prefer marrying Marmaduke Hogg she would rather
+be wrecked in the company of the St. Kitts boatmaster.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+                                     S.S. Diana, Sunday, January 27
+
+After breakfast, on our way to anchor at Antigua for the night, we saw
+in the distance the towering cone of Nevis, the "Gorgeous Isle" of
+Alexander Hamilton's birth and the famous scene of Lord Nelson's
+marriage. It has fallen from its proud estate of former years into
+poverty and neglect, but it is still marvelously beautiful to the eye.
+We sat on deck reading, or at least glancing drowsily over the pages
+of our books to the sapphire sea and the emerald forests of the island
+shores with a never-ceasing delight. There were three Roman Catholic
+priests on board, also four Protestant missionaries, one of them with
+a wife and a family of charming children--Samuel, Naomi, Esther,
+Daniel. Piously they were named and never once did they bring contempt
+on the Holy Scriptures! From below in a far end of the boat we could
+hear echoes of gospel hymns in some little cabin where a
+Sunday-morning service was being held.
+
+Dorothea gave a deep sigh.
+
+"It is all so peaceful, Charlotte! One day just like another and all
+beautiful and tranquil. We haven't seen anybody hurry since we left
+New York. Do you remember Rudyard Kipling saying, when he came back
+there after a long absence, that he was afraid to step slowly lest the
+man behind him should walk up his back? Nobody ever seems nervous in
+these islands. The natives can be ragged and hungry without being much
+concerned. Work never appears to be a delight to them for its own
+sake, but only as a means to get food. I feel slip--slip--slipping
+into a heavenly state of coma. Does anything ever stir the tropics
+except hurricanes and earthquakes, I wonder? How can women fight for
+suffrage in this climate? How can a man be awakened to great
+ambitions?"
+
+"Alexander Hamilton was born on Nevis and passed all his boyhood and
+youthful days on what is now our own St. Croix," I said.
+
+"Yes, but he wasn't Washington's aide-de-camp nor secretary of the
+treasury in the tropics!"
+
+"True; nevertheless, when he was Nicholas Cruger's bookkeeper at the
+age of twelve he wrote to an American friend: 'I contemn the groveling
+condition of a clerk to which my fortunes condemn me, and I would
+willingly risk my life, though not my character, to exalt my
+station.... My youth excludes me from any hope of immediate
+preferment, but I mean to prepare the way for futurity.' You see the
+yeast was stirring, even in the tropics, Dolly!"
+
+"Well, I feel no yeast stirring in me," she said languidly. "All the
+morning I have been trying to recapture a certain 'Ode to a Cow'
+written by a man of action in a country hotel where mother and I were
+sojourning last summer. I could have echoed it when I first regarded
+the inhabitants of these islands, and now anybody might say it of me,
+for I grow more and more cow-like with every passing day. It runs this
+way:
+
+
+                      "'ODE TO A CUD-CHEWING COW
+
+           "'Why, Cow, art thou so satisfied,
+           So well content with all things here below,
+           So meek, so lazy, and so awful slow?
+           Dost thou not know that men's affairs are mixed?
+           That grievously the world needs to be fixed?
+           That nothing we can do has any worth?
+           That life is care and trouble and untowardness?
+           Prit, Cow! This is no time for idleness!
+           The cud thou chewest is not what it seems.
+           Get up and moo! Tear round and quit thy dreams!'"
+
+By this time Dorothea was asleep. Her book slid to the floor, I shaded
+her face with my green umbrella, pulled down her muslin frock over her
+pretty ankles, and gave myself up to vagrant thoughts of her probable
+future.
+
+Sunday on shipboard is a good day for reflections and heart-searchings.
+My own problem, after all, is not so baffling as Dolly's. She is as
+loyal as a charming and sensible girl can be to a mother like Mrs.
+Valentine, whose soul, if the truth were told, is about the size of a
+mustard-seed. A frivolous, useless, bird-minded woman is Dolly's
+mother; a woman pecking at life as a canary pecks at its cuttlefish,
+simply to sharpen its bill. How the girl can respect her I cannot
+imagine! I suppose flesh calls to flesh and she loves her without too
+much analysis, but they seem to have come to the parting of the ways.
+It is Dolly's highest self that is in love with Marmaduke Hogg, and I
+don't believe she will sacrifice it to a maternal whim and call it
+filial obedience. Perhaps the absence that makes the heart grow
+fonder is working like a philter in this journey planned by Mrs.
+Valentine with a far different purpose.
+
+"Let her go with you, Charlotte," she begged me with tears in her
+eyes. "I must get her away from this attractive but undesirable young
+man! That absurd uncle who didn't want his name to die out must have
+been a lunatic or an imbecile. Why shouldn't such a vulgar name become
+extinct? And to think that my exquisite Dorothea--whose figure and
+eyelashes have been remarked by royalty--to think that she should be
+expected to graft herself on to that family tree of all others! To
+think that she may take that name herself and, for aught we know, add
+half a dozen more to the list; all boys, probably, who would marry in
+course of time and produce others, piling Hoggs on Hoggs, as it were!
+It is like one of those horrible endless chains that are condemned by
+the government!"
+
+I gave way to peals of laughter at this impassioned speech, evidently
+annoying Mrs. Valentine, who expected sympathy. I tried to placate her
+with reference to the poet of the name which had none but delightful
+associations in Scotland.
+
+"Then if they choose to defy me and marry each other, let them go and
+live in Scotland!" she snapped.
+
+"Would you have minded Dolly's marrying Lord Bacon?" I asked.
+
+This gave her food for thought.
+
+"No," she said reflectively, "for, of course, he was a lord, which is
+something."
+
+"But how about the associations?"
+
+"I can't explain, but somehow they are not as repulsive to me," she
+insisted. "I always think of bacon cooked, not raw, and--the other is
+alive!"
+
+As for my own difficulty, it is, after all, a conventional one. I
+cannot bear the idea of marrying my employer; a man known by sight and
+reputation to everybody in Washington, while I am a relatively unknown
+person without fortune, kith, or kin. The thought brings to mind
+sensational headlines in cheap newspapers regarding the wedding of
+some aged millionaire with his youthful stenographer, and the
+consequent alarms of his household; or the alliance of some scion of a
+wealthy house with a trained nurse of obscure lineage and vaulting
+ambition. I am all alone in the world, and though my father, who died
+when he was only five and twenty, left me but the barest support, I
+have gloried in my independence and rejoiced in my modest successes.
+
+My people on both sides were of good stock. Even the Winthrops could
+climb my family tree and find no bad fruit on it, but the world will
+say: "What a splendid match for Charlotte Clifford." ... "I wonder how
+Ellen Winthrop will take it?" ... "I shouldn't have thought Clive
+Winthrop would marry his secretary, somehow, though there's nothing
+against her; but he could look higher!"
+
+The world would be quite right. It is a splendid marriage for
+Charlotte Clifford, and Clive Winthrop could look higher. He is my
+superior and that is the reason I love him. That he loves me proves
+that there is something in me that will rise to his level. All the
+same, I wrote him when I came away that I could never cross the bridge
+between us (there is a bridge, although he does not see it) until I
+was no longer his secretary and until I was sure his sister would
+welcome me into the household that has been so harmonious and
+delightful to every human being that has ever crossed its threshold.
+Nobody could equal Ellen Winthrop as a hostess, with her fine,
+spirited face, lovely even at seventy; her gift of repartee, her
+stately manner, her simple, trailing dress, always of black or gray,
+and always reaching the floor, when most of the feminine world looks,
+in its best clothes, as if mounted on stilts, with a skimpy,
+semi-detached tail wriggling its silly length behind! I could never
+scale the heights on which the splendid Ellen perpetually dwells, but
+I could sit at the foot of them and admire with all my heart, and
+perhaps that attitude, if fully understood, might win her affection.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+                                       S.S. Diana, January 28, 1918
+
+At Antigua we anchored and took a steam launch to see the town, where
+we visited a very fine sugar-cane factory, watching the whole process
+from the cane-field to the market.
+
+We did not land at Guadeloupe, the hour not being favorable and the
+stay being too brief to compensate for the effort involved. But this
+morning at eight we approached Dominica, the largest of the Leeward
+group, the loftiest of the Lesser Antilles, and the loveliest--if one
+could or ought to make comparison--the loveliest of the West Indian
+Isles. The guidebook calls it "The Caribbean Wonderland," and Dolly
+and I were not disposed to quarrel with the phrase, after hanging over
+the deck-rail for an hour before breakfast and marveling at the beauty
+of the view. Mountains shimmered in the distance like visions seen in
+dreams, mountains like towering emeralds springing from a sapphire
+sea! We passed tiny hamlets, half-hidden in lime orchards, and
+cocoa-groves with yellow patches of cane gleaming here and there
+against a background of forest. As we drew nearer we could see white
+torrents dashing tempestuously down through green valleys, for
+Dominica has a too plenteous water-supply, since in some districts
+three hundred inches a year is the average rainfall. It rained seven
+times in the three hours that we passed on shore, but the showers were
+gentle ones, and we found generous shelter in the wonderful Botanical
+Garden, where we spent most of our time.
+
+Nature is sometimes a kindly mother; often she wears a tragic mask,
+and now and then she indulges in melodrama; but I never conceived the
+possibility of her having a sense of humor until we witnessed her
+freakish mood in the Dominica garden. There were the usual varieties
+of magnificent palms and brilliant flowering shrubs; but the joy of
+joys was the Sausage-Tree, around which we walked in helpless mirth at
+the incredible veracity of the imitation. It reached a goodly height,
+and had a splendid girth and circumference of shade; but no factory in
+Bologna or Frankfort, or any other possible birthplace of the real
+article, could rival this amazing, this funny, tree in fertility. Its
+product was just a trifle large, save for the omnivorous lover of
+sausage; but in other respects it was a faithful copy of the
+original--unless, indeed, the first sausage-maker borrowed the idea
+from the tree, instead of the other way about. These vegetable
+sausages hung in hundreds of strings and festoons and clusters from
+the topmost to the lowest branches. Because of the way they hung, the
+way they were strung, their shape and color, and the very manner in
+which the skin was neatly drawn over each one and fastened, no one
+possessing a sense of the ridiculous but would sit down under the tree
+and laugh at the joke. Oddly enough we could find no pictorial
+postcard of this phenomenon to bring home for the enlivening of winter
+evenings, though we bought a capital one of the Cannon-Ball Tree, just
+as unique in its way but not so absurd.
+
+Dorothea was enchanted with Dominica, and kept exclaiming every few
+minutes: "Oh, if only Great Britain would sell us this island! I think
+I'd choose to live in Dominica, because if I had a sausage-tree in my
+garden I should laugh every day, and the children wouldn't need any
+playthings."
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+                                       S.S. Diana, February 1, 1918
+
+We have had a glimpse of France through a day at Martinique. The
+principal feature of our visit was a wild motor-drive up an
+eighteen-hundred-foot mountain. It was a steady climb from glory to
+glory, with tropical forests on every side. Our method of progress was
+not quite serene, for there was not a sufficient number of cars to
+satisfy the demand.
+
+After a long wait Dolly and I took a small mongrel sort of motor that
+had been refused by all the Diana's passengers. The Creole driver,
+handsome, debonair, persuasive, and fluent, though unintelligible,
+assured us that he had ascended and descended the mountain hundreds of
+times, a fact only too obvious to one who examined his means of
+transportation. None of the tires matched, and two of them looked like
+wounded soldiers just home from the front, displaying patches of
+adhesive plaster and bandages of cotton and woolen rags of every
+color, with an occasional inset of an alien material into the rubber.
+One could catch a glimpse of a tin tomato-can neatly introduced in the
+place of some vital bit of machinery; a Waterbury alarm-clock figured
+in an unexpected position, apparently adding its power to the engine;
+and there were stout ropes, here and there, which I never observed
+before in the rigging of any motor.
+
+I hesitated to enter, for the future, though not absolutely certain,
+looked full of hope and promise; but Dolly was firm and reckless. I am
+ten years her senior, but still young to be called a "'fraid cat" with
+impunity; so I finally mounted the vehicle. The driver gave a gay,
+insouciant tap to a front tire, as much as to say: "Courage, mon
+enfant! C'est la derniere fois!"--then flung himself into his seat,
+and, blowing a horn, started his base-hospital up the mountain at a
+breakneck pace. The motor's own horn was out of commission, but there
+was a substitute by the driver's side. It was easy for him to blow it
+because he had no particular use for either of his hands, his steering
+being left largely to chance. Repeated expostulations in
+boarding-school French only elicited a reply that sounded like: "Soyez
+tranquilles, mesdames. You speak American? Bien! Leezy est
+parfaitement docile!"
+
+This conveyed no idea to me, although his broad grin convinced me that
+in his own opinion it was a subtle witticism. At length, however, it
+burst upon Dolly, who went off into irrepressible gales of laughter.
+
+"You have lived so continuously in a rarefied Winthrop atmosphere,
+Charlotte, that you haven't any modern vocabulary. He is telling you
+the pet name of his car, to give you confidence. Nobody ever dies in a
+tin 'Lizzie.' Not only is the machine indestructible, but the people
+that ride in it. Isn't the driver a witty, reckless darling?"
+
+He was, indeed; and, incredible as it may seem, Lizzie ascended and
+descended the mountain in safety--though only because a kind
+Providence watched over us. Then, when we had paid the reckless,
+danger-proof darling twice the sum he should have demanded, we sat on
+a bench in the Savanna, where we could be quietly grateful that we
+were alive and watch the coming and going of the Fort-de-France
+townspeople, so unmistakably French, with the bright costumes of the
+women, the pose of their turbans or hats, their sparkle and chatter
+and vivacious gestures.
+
+Here in the Savanna travelers always gather to look at the marble
+statue of the Empress Josephine, which is called the greatest work of
+art in the West Indies. That is not fatuous praise, perhaps, but the
+figure needed the hand of no master sculptor to hold the eye and
+captivate the imagination. It is mounted on a huge pedestal and is of
+heroic size, the white glitter of its marble enhanced by its truly
+magnificent setting, a circle of towering royal palms. There she
+stands, the lovely Creole woman of Martinique, forever looking at
+"Trois Islets," as if she were remembering her birth in an overseer's
+shack and her girlhood passed in a sugar-mill. Straightway the crowds
+of native men and women chaffering in the market-place, the mothers
+holding up their crowing babies to the statue, the nursemaids and
+groups of playing children, all vanished, and we re-lived in spirit
+poor Josephine's past, thrilling anew at the remembrance of her
+romance, her triumph, and her bitter sorrow--the Creole girl who
+crossed the sea to become Empress of France and share a throne with
+Napoleon, but who sailed back to her island home a brokenhearted
+woman.
+
+Good-bye, Martinique, land of Josephine; and land of St. Pierre, the
+scene of one of the greatest tragedies of modern times, when the fury
+of Mont Pelee engulfed the growth of centuries and buried forty
+thousand human creatures in its scalding lava. St. Lucia, of the
+Windward group, to-morrow, and then Barbados, from whence the Diana
+goes on to Demerara and returns a week or so later, so that we are
+able to rejoin her, taking up our former comfortable cabins and our
+much-liked captain.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+                                                     S.S. Diana
+                                      Between Barbados and New York
+                                                    February 11
+
+Here we are again on our homeward trip, making fewer landings and
+briefer stops, principally to take on passengers and thousands of
+barrels of limes.
+
+Barbados, with its charming hotel at Hastings, was an unalloyed
+delight; and Dorothea, who had determined to live in each of the
+islands as it came along, would finally have transferred her
+allegiance for good and all had it not seemed more loyal for an
+American to choose one of our own possessions and "grow up with the
+country." We found ourselves in the midst of pleasant, even
+distinguished, society--British officials, ex-governors, and
+judge-advocates of the various islands, English and Canadian soldiers
+on sick-leave, and officers commanding the U-boat chasers in near-by
+waters. Dorothea danced nightly and held court daily on the broad
+piazzas, reminding me of Rudyard Kipling's fascinating heroine in an
+Indian army post, who, whenever she appeared, caused the horizon to
+become black with majors. Her head and heart remained true to the
+absent Marmaduke--I am not so sure about her dancing feet!
+
+Now that that experience is over, with the many others, we are at sea
+and quiet again, with one tranquil day just like the other.
+
+"What a honeymoon journey it would make, Charlotte!" said Dolly one
+moonlight evening on deck. "It is so difficult to grow in knowledge of
+people in New York or Washington. One doesn't even know one's self."
+
+"All journeys must be good for honeymooners, don't you think?"
+
+"Yes, in a way; but some places are created for lovers and newlyweds,
+who are, after all, only explorers, Charlotte, forever discovering new
+lands and annexing new territories."
+
+"Yes; and sometimes falling into the hands of savages and cannibals, I
+suppose."
+
+"Yes; that must be terrible--the awakening to find that one has been
+mistaken in a man!" sighed Dolly.
+
+"I dare say we ought to worry lest men be mistaken in us; it might
+happen, you know."
+
+"Your mind is so logical, Charlotte! However, this voyage wouldn't
+have to be idealized to meet the needs of honeymooners. In a Vermont
+village where I sometimes stay I remember a girl who had to be married
+on Sunday because she could not give up her position as
+telegraph-operator till Saturday night. That was dull enough in all
+conscience, but she was married in her high-school graduating dress,
+and went to her grandmother's house, ten miles away, for her
+wedding-journey. I think it required considerable inward felicity to
+exalt that situation!"
+
+I sat upright in my steamer chair. "Dorothea," I said sharply, "you
+have been manufacturing conversation for the last five minutes--just
+killing time for fear that I should ask you questions. Is there
+anything on your mind? You have been absentminded and nervous for
+days."
+
+"Your imagination is working overtime, Charlotte," she answered. "We
+are nearing home, that is all; and life presses closer."
+
+I could not gainsay her, for every mile of ocean crossed makes my
+heart beat faster. I seem to be living just now in a sort of pause
+between my different lives. There is the heaven of my childhood in the
+vague background; then the building of my "career," if so modest a
+thing can be called by so shining a name; then the steady,
+half-conscious growth of a love that illumines my labors, yet makes
+them difficult and perplexing; and now there is a sense of suspended
+activity, of waiting, with a glimmering air-castle rising like an
+iridescent bubble out of the hazy future. Sometimes there are two
+welcoming faces at a window and sometimes the indistinct figure of a
+woman stretching out a forbidding hand, my chief's sister, who may not
+want a third person in the family!
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+                                      S.S. Diana, February 13, 1918
+
+Dolly went on the bridge this afternoon and stayed a half-hour with
+the captain, giving no reason save that she liked to talk with him,
+which seemed plausible, but did not satisfy me. At bedtime I
+discovered her unpacking and laying out in her upper berth a dazzling
+toilet for our landing at St. Thomas to-morrow. She blushed when I
+looked in upon her.
+
+"Do dress 'up to me,' Charlotte," she coaxed. "I don't want to be
+conspicuous. Wear your gray georgette and the broad hat with the
+roses."
+
+"Why this sudden display of vanity and good clothes?"
+
+"Hasn't your letter of introduction to Governor Oliver brought us an
+invitation to luncheon at Government House?"
+
+"Yes; but I don't suppose it is a banquet."
+
+"Charlotte, I must confide in you."
+
+"I should think it was about time."
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"I have known for days that you were concealing something."
+
+"I didn't want to be secretive, but I thought it was only fair to you
+to keep my own counsel. Now you can report to mother that you knew
+nothing, and that therefore you couldn't interfere."
+
+"But what have you done? You can't be secretly married--with your
+chosen man in Washington and you on the vasty deep."
+
+"No; but I'm next door to it."
+
+"What do you mean by 'next door'? Have you a groom and a minister
+waiting on the New York dock?"
+
+"No; mother will be there, but I fear she won't bring a minister. I'm
+so glad you imagined something far, far worse than I ever intended. It
+shows that you are more audacious than I--though nobody would believe
+it."
+
+"I don't like your tone; but go on."
+
+"I've been communicating rather frequently with Duke."
+
+"So I fancied, from your changing money at every stop and doing
+continual sums on paper."
+
+"It has made me a pauper--this telegraphing in war-time. The messages
+go by Jamaica or Porto Rico or Trinidad or Bermuda and lots of other
+islands, and I think some of the messages must be personally conducted
+straight to New York by powerful swimmers, judging by the cost."
+
+"Go on. Don't temporize."
+
+"I needn't repeat all of them, and in fact I haven't copies. Duke,
+after he had my first telegram from St. Thomas, wired back to St.
+Croix, '_You are willing to take my name. Why, after all, shouldn't I
+refuse your sacrifice and make one of my own by taking yours?_' Wasn't
+that noble?"
+
+"It would have softened the heart of a suffragette or a feminist. What
+did you reply?"
+
+"I said: '_Never in the world!_'"
+
+"'Never' would have been enough. You wasted three words at a dollar or
+so apiece."
+
+"I wanted to be strong. I said: '_Never in the world! I am not going
+to have you criticized and nagged and made unhappy, as if your name
+were a crime!_' Then he wired: '_But it would remove objections, and
+cost only six thousand a year._' I had to wait two whole days and
+nights before I could cable: '_Objector will surely meet me in New
+York. She will probably forgive if we are both firm. My mind is made
+up. I would rather be a you-know-what than remain a Valentine._'"
+
+"That was strong enough."
+
+"I meant it to be. He has been scurrilously treated, and somebody must
+stand by him. Now, to-morrow, February 14th, is his birthday. I
+remember it because we met on St. Valentine's day, and it wasn't many
+hours afterward that I guessed how he felt about me."
+
+"Dorothea! Do you mean to tell me that a man spoke to you of his
+feelings within twenty-four hours of the time you met?"
+
+"No, I do not."
+
+"You certainly intimated as much. If it wasn't many hours after you
+met on the 14th it must have been on the 15th."
+
+"No, you are wrong, Charlotte. It was the evening of the same day. We
+met in the early morning."
+
+"It sounds like a children's party with an exchange of those
+snapping-mottoes."
+
+"Duke is nearly twenty-eight, you know, Charlotte; so it is simply
+nonsense to jeer at him. You ought to be able to imagine what sort of
+things would be said between two persons mutually attracted to each
+other--when you remember that he was born on February 14th and my name
+is Valentine. The coincidence simply put ideas into our heads; but I
+won't go on if you don't sympathize."
+
+"I don't actually disapprove, not at heart. Now, what has his birthday
+got to do with to-morrow and St. Thomas?"
+
+"Why, I cabled him as soon as we arrived at Barbados: '_What would you
+like for a birthday present from the West Indies?_' I knew that he
+would remember we met on St. Valentine's day and an answer could reach
+me at St. Thomas."
+
+"Couldn't you buy him a souvenir without inquiring at great expense
+what he'd prefer?"
+
+"Ye-es; but I thought it was a nice, affectionate question."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"Well, he cabled one word, Charlotte."
+
+"I guessed that the moment you quoted your message. When you asked:
+'_What shall I bring you from the West Indies?_' Duke promptly
+answered, '_Yourself._'"
+
+"Charlotte, you are positively uncanny! How did you manage to hit upon
+it?"
+
+"It doesn't take as much intellect as you fancy. You are as
+transparent as a plate of glass. Well, when he said '_Yourself_,' how
+did you answer him?"
+
+"It's the only thing I don't like to tell you, but I must. I reflected
+a full half-hour at Barbados. It was one of those heavenly moonlight
+nights not suitable for reflection. Then I wrote a message and sent it
+to the office by one of the colored waiters so that the hotel people
+shouldn't read it. It said" (and here she turned her face away from
+me): "'_Deliveries from the West Indies are uncertain and expensive;
+come and get me._'--Do you think that was forward?"
+
+I laughed irresistibly and a long time. "It certainly was not
+backward, but it was delicious," I said at length, wiping the tears
+from my eyes. "However, he seems as impetuous and tempestuous as you,
+so perhaps it doesn't matter."
+
+"You see, Charlotte, I knew that probably he couldn't meet this boat
+to save his life, so I was willing to say, '_Come and get me_,' just
+for fun. I hadn't the slightest clue as to when he would receive my
+message or the sailing dates of steamers from New York, everything is
+so changed in war-times. I know only that the time is slipping away,
+and Duke may leave the Shipping Board at any moment for the
+training-camp. I intend to have one brief, straightforward talk with
+mother, and declare my purpose. We are going to get your Mr. Winthrop
+to intercede for us, too. I shall be of age in March, and I don't
+intend to let a mere name stand between me and happiness."
+
+"I think you are right, and that your mother will finally agree with
+you; but I still don't see the need of an unusual toilet for
+to-morrow."
+
+"It's for the Governor," said Dolly, "and one never knows what may
+happen."
+
+"If a bromidic remark may also be cryptic, Dorothea, you have achieved
+the combination. Now I must ask you a direct question, for, although I
+am not your keeper, but your friend, I am not disposed to let you do
+anything reckless. Why did you put that idea into Duke's head--the
+idea of meeting you in St. Thomas?"
+
+"I wanted to talk things over before seeing mother. I knew I could
+trust him. He has some elderly cousins and a sister-in-law; surely,
+between them, he could find somebody to bring along with him; and I
+have you, safest and wisest of Charlottes! Duke is one of the legal
+advisers of the Shipping Board. Why shouldn't he have business in
+these islands? Besides, it is a practical impossibility that he should
+be able to reach St. Thomas on a given date."
+
+"Then why did you suggest it?"
+
+"I think, Charlotte, it must have been empty-mindedness."
+
+"I regard it as a pure lack of self-control."
+
+"I've practiced self-control for one whole, endless year."
+
+"You have practiced filial obedience, I grant that. But what good do
+you expect to achieve if Duke does surmount the insurmountable and
+meet you to-morrow?"
+
+"What good?" Dolly almost shrieked the question. "What good, do you
+ask? You callous, cold-hearted Charlotte! Why, four heavenly days
+spent in his society, to be sure--with you and his chaperon having a
+lovely time together somewhere not too near."
+
+"And you haven't any sneaking idea of marrying him in St. Thomas?
+Because I won't allow it."
+
+"No such luck! He wouldn't let me, unless mother's attitude has been
+miraculously changed."
+
+"Well, I can only say that you have made me very nervous and
+uncomfortable, Dolly," and I prepared to leave her cabin and cross the
+narrow space that divided it from mine.
+
+"Darling Charlotte!" Here she drew me back. "If you are nervous and
+uncomfortable, it seems that you think there's a bare chance that Duke
+will be in St. Thomas."
+
+"I know nothing about the possibilities," I replied. "He might
+persuade the Shipping Board that he could be of use in this vicinity,
+and, of course, he would have advantages not possessed by ordinary
+tourists."
+
+"If you had had any experience with shipping boards, Charlotte, you
+would know that they can only be moved by chloroform or dynamite.
+Besides, Duke would never do anything underhanded; he is too
+patriotic; though, of course, he is inventive."
+
+"Of course! And inventiveness is only one of his gifts, while his
+virtues are those of Sir Galahad, King Arthur, Marcus Aurelius,
+Abraham Lincoln, and a few others."
+
+"Charlotte, I don't want to seem harsh, but I hope some time you will
+get a faint inkling of what love really is. Your heart reminds me of
+the Rock of Gibraltar!"
+
+"One doesn't wear the Rock of Gibraltar on one's sleeve, at all
+events," I remarked.
+
+"Do you mean that if you ever did have a love-affair you wouldn't
+confide in me, when I adore you so, Charlotte?"
+
+"I mean something of the sort, my child." At which she made a feint of
+beating me with her little silver hair-brush, but ended in kissing my
+cheek and whispering: "Good-night! You are a darling, even if you have
+no sentiment."
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+Morning came. We anchored outside St. Croix at five o'clock; went
+through medical inspection at six, and if there was anything the
+matter with Dolly's heart or mine the physician did not offer any
+comment. Then about ten we approached St. Thomas for the second time.
+
+If the Virgin Islands looked beautiful when we first saw them, they
+had grown in beauty during our brief absence, and my birthplace, in
+the shining distance, was a very dream of loveliness. We saw its
+outline rising above a rim of azure sea, with the mountains of Porto
+Rico standing out to the westward. The great palm groves on the shore
+led the eye upward to the green hills and the clouds topping the
+higher peaks. Gayly painted boats began to come near the Diana, and
+naked diving boys, slender shapes of brown mahogany, plunged into the
+sea to catch our pennies. Then we saw the red roofs of Charlotte
+Amalia, the little park near the landing, and the pink, toy-like
+fortress with the Stars and Stripes floating over it.
+
+Dorothea and I stood near the deck-rail, her hand in mine. In her
+white dress, her broad hat wreathed with corn-flowers, and a scarlet
+sunshade, she looked a youthful Columbia, so radiant and bewitching
+that for the first time I secretly hoped Marmaduke Hogg might triumph
+over the obstacles in the way and come to meet his ladylove, although
+I saw many embarrassing and awkward situations arising from such a
+meeting. I could not be jealous of so bright and joyous a creature,
+and anyway my own happiness was only a few days distant, if I chose to
+put out my arms and take it.
+
+There seemed to be a crowd on the dock, which was made most
+unattractive by a colossal mountain of coal that concealed everything
+behind it. The Diana made a slow approach, but we finally passed the
+coal-heap and came within thirty feet of the shore. I could feel
+Dolly's heart beat through her pulse that lay under my hand. Then
+suddenly her quick eyes searched the outer edge of the crowd and found
+the shape they were looking for.
+
+"I think I see him! I think I am going to faint, for I didn't really
+expect him! Yes; I know it is he, though he is wearing summer clothes
+that I never saw before. Look, Charlotte! Away back near that grove of
+cocoanut-trees! He's with other people--I knew he would find somebody!
+Give me the glasses. There's an elderly man in a Panama hat, and two
+ladies, and--why, Charlotte, take the glasses yourself. It can't be,
+but it looks like your Winthrop!"
+
+My hand trembled so that I could hardly hold the glass. I could
+scarcely believe Dolly's eyes or my own; but the Diana crept nearer,
+and it was true! Inch by inch the picture grew clearer, and then a
+pathetic surprise met my gaze.
+
+I could see Clive plainly now, and felt that he was searching the line
+of passengers on the Diana's deck to find me. My heart gave a furious
+leap to think that a man like my chief would look for only one woman's
+face in that crowd, and regard it, with all its blemishes, as a
+precious thing.
+
+Duke had separated himself from the little group and was swinging his
+hat to Dorothea; but I could not explain why the two men were not
+standing nearer together and what was the meaning of the wheeled
+chair, with the nurse's head rising above the back. The identity of
+the person in the chair was hidden by a tiny black frilled parasol
+with a handle bent in the middle so that it could be used for a
+shield. Did I know that little old-fashioned sunshade? I did! It was
+the property of some one whose belongings had a certain air of
+difference from those of other people. She lifted it at last, as we
+came close to the dock, and I met Ellen Winthrop's affectionate,
+welcoming glance. Her eyes swam in unshed tears, and mine were so wet
+I could see only dimly that her beautiful hair was a shade whiter, her
+face paler and thinner, that she had aged mysteriously in a month, and
+the hand that was holding the parasol trembled like a leaf. She had
+been very ill; there was no doubt of that. She had been ordered a
+voyage, and I felt that she had chosen this one because she knew
+Clive's wish. That meant she was willing to welcome me into the heart
+of the family; perhaps even that she wished to help me fit myself to
+take her own unique place in her brother's life. Oh, what joy to feel
+that I could not only take freely all that my chief wanted to give me,
+but that I could be of real service to her!
+
+Down the precipitous landing-steps we went, Dolly, as usual, well in
+the front. Clive and Duke were at the foot awaiting us, and, as we
+felt a sense of safety in the midst of strangers, Dolly flung herself
+at once into Duke's arms, while all the male watchers on deck or dock
+gazed at him with envy. Finding myself unobserved in this spectacular
+tableau, I could give Clive my own greeting as my heart dictated,
+while I told him that his sister's presence answered my last doubt.
+
+When Dolly withdrew from the embrace of her adoring swain--rosy,
+joyous, unabashed--she adjusted her hat from its perilous position on
+one side of her head, and gazed upon Clive and me with unflattering
+astonishment mixed with awe.
+
+"You, too, perfidious Charlotte! You needn't deny it; I saw you
+both--just finishing!"
+
+"Not at all, Miss Valentine," laughed Clive, putting out his hand to
+shake hers. "We were, in fact, only just beginning."
+
+"And to think I never suspected, when I might have known that you are
+the only man in the world learned enough and good enough for
+Charlotte."
+
+"You were too absorbed in your own affairs to think about mine,
+missy," I said. "Now, will you be modest and grateful for the rest of
+your life, since you see that my Mr. Winthrop has brought your young
+man to St. Thomas in a discreet manner that you never could have
+achieved by yourself? Take me to your sister, Clive; I want her to
+know without a moment's delay how I appreciate her coming with you."
+
+"She has been terribly ill, Charlotte. For ten days after you left it
+was almost hopeless, but at length she rallied, and since the doctor
+insisted on a change of climate her whole heart was bent on coming
+here. She has long suspected our feeling for each other, and you will
+be such a joy to her as well as to me, my dear."
+
+"It makes me so happy, so happy!" I faltered, my eyes swimming with
+tears. "I was so unwilling to take all and give so little--now it will
+be more!"
+
+"Don't go off by yourselves," said Dolly. "Be dignified and
+indifferent, like us. Take Mr. Winthrop's arm and I'll take Duke's."
+(Here she suited the action to the word.) "There's the Governor,
+expecting us to luncheon and not knowing us by sight. He won't suspect
+what has happened; but after saluting him and asking him to put some
+more plates on the table, we'll all walk up to Miss Winthrop's chair,
+and you and I will say: 'Good-morning, dear lady. Let us introduce to
+you "our new possessions," our spoils of travel, our souvenirs of a
+sea-voyage.' Then Duke and Mr. Winthrop will make a profound
+obeisance, and all will be over."
+
+And so it turned out! Everybody laughed and chatted; Dorothea kissed
+Ellen Winthrop's hand prettily, coquetted with Clive, and began to lay
+siege to the nurse's heart, while she riveted the chains by which she
+held Marmaduke Hogg in bondage. She was in high spirits, but she was
+distinctly nervous, and whenever she introduced her fiance to one of
+her fellow voyagers she showed a heightened color as she slid quickly
+over his surname.
+
+Presently Clive withdrew a little distance to talk with the Governor's
+secretary, and Dorothea caught the captain on his way from the ship
+and entangled him in a merry conversation with Miss Winthrop. This
+gave Marmaduke an opportunity to take me aside. I suspected that he
+wanted to confide in me that Mrs. Valentine had made one last
+determined refusal to receive him as a son-in-law, and that after the
+next few days of sea-voyaging we should meet an irate parent at the
+landing in New York and that there would be metaphorical "wigs on the
+green."
+
+I confess in that moment, as I envisaged the recalcitrant Dolly locked
+in her room and fed upon bread and water, that I wished Mr. Marmaduke
+Hogg had remained in Washington, which is the scene of so many battles
+that one more or less would not be obvious on the horizon. On the
+contrary, his first words were a surprise.
+
+"Miss Clifford," he said, "no one knows what Dolly and I owe to you!"
+
+"But what have I done?" I inquired laughingly.
+
+"Oh, a thousand things! Taken my part gently and kindly with Mrs.
+Valentine; and above all, allowed Dolly to come on this journey with
+you, when she was so utterly confused by her mother's objections to
+our marriage that she did not know which way to turn.--It's rather a
+big job for a girl to decide whether she'll break her mother's heart,
+or her lover's!"
+
+"Mrs. Valentine has no heart, save in the physiological sense," I
+interrupted.
+
+"Well, I have cut the Gordian knot," continued Marmaduke. "I don't
+want Dolly to know just at first, but I have set plans in motion for
+changing my name back to Forrest!"
+
+"But you lose six thousand dollars a year!" I exclaimed.
+
+"It doesn't matter. I am offered a New York partnership when the war
+is over and it won't be very long before I make it up."
+
+"And what about your dear old uncle?"
+
+"That hurts me, I confess. But I think if departed spirits know
+nothing of our doings, it doesn't matter, and if they know everything,
+uncle must have kept an eye on Mrs. Valentine and will understand."
+
+"I never thought of leaving the whole matter to 'uncle,'" I observed.
+
+"I'm not shifting the responsibility; I'm simply counting on him. I
+always counted on him and he always trusted me. If I could get him on
+a spiritual long-distance telephone, he would see that I cannot part
+an only daughter from her only mother."
+
+"Yes, I've often thought only children were a mistake; they bulk too
+heavily in the foreground. Where there are six, each one cannot take
+up so much room."
+
+"Exactly. You see we've got to go to her mother's to dinner every
+other Sunday when our cook's out. I've learned that much about
+matrimony in advance."
+
+"Perhaps you won't be invited!"
+
+"Well, that would be even worse. Besides, she has given up her
+apartment and leased a charming house."
+
+"Does she think that you and Dolly are to live with her?"
+
+"If she does she is mistaken, but to do her justice I don't believe
+that's her idea at all. However, she is all settled and awaiting
+Dorothea. The house is going to be a surprise."
+
+"Dolly will like it; the apartment didn't suit her taste."
+
+"A pompous butler is installed. I discovered all this when I went to
+call, and conscientiously told her I was going to St. Thomas with the
+Winthrops. He is elderly, of course, as all the middle-aged and young
+butlers are in khaki; and wonderful to relate, there is also an aged
+but well-preserved footman. He dwells on the lower floor, and
+communicates with the butler on the floor above, where the drawing-
+and dining-rooms are, by means of a speaking-tube. The moment the
+footman approached me with his 'What name, sir?' and bawled 'MR.
+HOGG!' through the tube, the butler repeating it resonantly to the
+boudoir where Mrs. Valentine was sitting; at that moment I knew why
+she had taken the house. It was for the speaking-tubes! I have never
+before seen a small house in Washington with these annunciators. The
+butler and footman were engaged for the same purpose, that of bawling
+'MR. HOGG' whenever I called upon Dolly. After my interview with Mrs.
+Valentine, which was placid, for she thanked me coldly for telling her
+of my proposed journey and said she should go herself, but imagined
+that the steamers were small and uncomfortable, and the food
+villainous; however, we would talk the whole matter over in New York
+and come to some decision; she then went to the speaking-tube and
+called, 'Brown! Ask Jenkins to show Mr. Hogg out, please!'
+
+"I left the lady and went at once to Clive Winthrop for advice and
+began the process of amputating my surname. Perhaps I shall not call
+at the X Street house till the wedding is over, and when the footman
+asks: 'What name, sir?' I shall say: 'My bachelor name, as you may
+remember, was Hogg, but I am now married and it is Forrest!'"
+
+
+
+
+PHILIPPA'S NERVOUS PROSTRATION
+
+
+A STUDY IN NOBLENESS
+
+                                           Stanwood Sanitarium,
+                                          Mapleton, Pennsylvania,
+                                                          June,19--
+
+FIRST WEEK
+
+                                                             Monday
+
+The door has just closed behind one of the most eminent physicians in
+the State, and I am no longer Philippa Armstrong, but a case of
+neurasthenia, an inmate of Room Number 17, which has a yellow placard
+over its entrance; a placard announcing that no callers are allowed
+within, save with the special permission of Dr. Levi Stanwood. At
+present the placard is the only thing I enjoy about the institution;
+that, at least, promises peace; at all events, such peace as can be
+found outside of one's own soul.
+
+I am counseled to have complete rest, cheerful surroundings,
+abstinence from newspapers and letters, sound sleep, careful and
+nourishing diet, freedom from anxiety, gentle tonics, with electrical
+and other treatments underlined upon a printed list.
+
+The head physician (who is a genius in the way of diagnosis, seeing
+through the human system as if it were plate glass) has made a careful
+study of my symptoms and written my Cousin Sarah that all I need is
+six or eight weeks of his care to be quite myself again.
+
+How little they understand us women, after all--poor, blind,
+unsuspicious doctors! My heart-beats, my color, my temperature, my
+pulse, my blood pressure, even my tongue, all these have told no tales
+to the scientific eye, and as it was literally impossible for Dr.
+Stanwood to discern my malady, it was equally beyond him to suggest a
+remedy. As a matter of fact, all I need to make and keep me well is
+large and constant doses of Richard Morton, Esq., of Baltimore; but
+who would confess that to a doctor?
+
+Cousin Sarah does not suspect the state of things, the gentleman
+himself is, I trust, quite ignorant, and the doctor will waste upon me
+all the wealth of curative agencies at his command without effecting
+the least change in my condition.
+
+Richard Morton is an orphan; so am I. He is young, strong,
+good-looking, clever, and poor. I am the first, second, and fifth; as
+to one's own beauty and cleverness it is difficult to speak
+impartially.
+
+I have thought for nearly six months, and indeed I am still inclined
+to think, that Richard Morton loves me, and I was equally certain,
+until a few weeks ago, that he was only awaiting a suitable
+opportunity to declare his love and ask me to marry him. I had made up
+my mind, whenever he should put the important question, to answer him
+frankly and joyously in the affirmative; not because he is the
+handsomest or most brilliant or most desirable person in the world,
+but because for sheer lovableness and husbandliness he is unsurpassed
+and unsurpassable.
+
+In March Cousin Sarah made a visit to Germantown and met there a Mrs.
+Taunton, Richard Morton's widowed aunt. When the intimacy had
+progressed sufficiently Mrs. Taunton told Cousin Sarah one day that
+she hoped her nephew would eventually marry a certain Amy Darling, a
+near neighbor of hers; that Miss Darling's father and Richard's had
+been friends from boyhood; and that they had always planned a marriage
+between the two young people, each an only child.
+
+Of course, Mr. Darling, who died only this winter, did not indulge in
+any such melodramatic or bookish nonsense as setting down commands or
+desires in his will, nor were any of his bequests dependent upon them.
+He did talk with his daughter, however, during his last illness, and
+he did leave Richard Morton a letter expressing his regard and
+confidence, and saying that as his daughter was entirely without
+relatives he should have felt much happier had he seen her married
+before his death. If he had stopped there all would have been well,
+but he went on. He knew, he said, that Amy was one of the sweetest and
+most attractive girls in the world, and if a mutual affection should
+grow out of her acquaintance with Richard he would be glad to know
+that the fortune he had made by his own energy might be a basis for
+the future prosperity and business success of his old friend's son.
+
+Cousin Sarah came home from Germantown quite excited by this romance
+and discussed it with me daily, in exasperating unconsciousness that I
+could feel the least distaste for the subject.
+
+"It seems almost providential, Philippa," she said, over her
+knitting.
+
+"Providential for which of them?" I asked, stabbing my sheet of music
+paper with the pen, while I tried in vain to think how many eighth
+notes would fill a measure.
+
+"For both; though I was really thinking of Mr. Morton. His business is
+one that peculiarly requires capital; then again he has many interests
+in Philadelphia, and there is that beautiful place in Germantown with
+house, stable, horses, and gardens all ready for him."
+
+"And the girl, too; don't forget her," I responded. "Though some men
+don't care for these ready-to-wear wives; they prefer to look about
+and to choose."
+
+"He would have to look a long distance before he found any one to
+compare with Miss Darling, either in beauty or suitableness," said
+Cousin Sarah, thereby injecting the first drop of poison in my blood
+and starting me on the downward path toward nervous prostration.
+
+"Miss Darling is a man's woman," she continued, unconsciously giving
+me another push; "the type with which neither you nor I have anything
+in common, but which we know to be irresistible."
+
+Now Cousin Sarah is fifty-five, thin, angular, erect, uncompromising.
+I love and respect her, but do not care to be lumped with her in
+affairs of the heart, at least not for thirty years to come; and
+although I think it is disgusting to be labeled a "man's woman" it is
+insufferable to be told that one is _not_!
+
+"I can see Amy Darling in my mind's eye," I ventured; "blonde, dimply,
+fluffy as to head, willowy as to figure so as to cling the better,
+blue eyes swimming in unshed tears, and a manner so exquisitely
+feminine that she makes all the other women in her vicinity appear
+independent and mannish. But not all men care for pets, Cousin
+Sarah--some of them prefer companions."
+
+"A pet _is_ a companion," remarked Cousin Sarah casually as she left
+the room, giving me thereby an entirely new and most unpleasant
+thought.
+
+I have known Richard Morton for many months, and although I have met
+him very often at other places, he has been a constant visitor at our
+house. If he has had any resemblance to a possible suitor why hasn't
+Cousin Sarah discovered it? Is _she_ deaf and blind, or have my ears
+and eyes played me false? Am I so undesirable that it would never
+cross her mind that a man might fall in love with me? Hardly, for she
+is well aware that several men have expressed their willingness to
+annex my poverty-stricken charms.
+
+As I look back upon the weeks that followed the interview with Cousin
+Sarah I see that Richard was never the same after he received Mr.
+Darling's letter. I felt a nameless difference. It was not only that I
+saw him less frequently, but that he gave me less of himself when I
+did see him. I, too, was on guard and never succeeded in being quite
+natural. I am not so foolish as to give up to another girl a man who
+loves me, simply because she is rich. The thought that worries me
+night and day is this: if at the moment he only feels for me
+friendship, ought I to let it grow into love when there is another
+woman who could give him with herself everything he needs to assure
+his career? With Philippa Armstrong for a wife he will have to work
+unceasingly, and unless fortune is particularly kind he may not
+achieve a large success for many years. If he marries Amy Darling
+(soft, silly, spineless little name!) he has house, lands, and money,
+all the influence of her father's former business associates, and has,
+besides, carried out his own father's wishes.
+
+This is considerable; quite enough to make a man reflect and
+vacillate, unless he is so deeply in love already that no temptation
+is strong enough to assail him.
+
+Richard Morton, I know, likes to dance with me, sing with me, golf
+with me, talk with me, consult with me about his affairs, write
+letters to me; and more than that, he doesn't like to have other men
+usurp these privileges; but I am not prepared to say that he would
+pine away if circumstances removed me altogether from his path. At any
+rate, these perplexities have been too much for my peace of mind, and
+when Richard Morton announced that he had business which would keep
+him in Philadelphia for a month I began to feel physically ill and
+unable to bear Cousin Sarah's sympathy, her curiosity, even at last
+her proximity. When the doctor advised my coming here to this quiet,
+restful place I eagerly embraced the opportunity simply because I
+could be alone, and because I need not meet Richard until he had
+enjoyed a full month of Amy Darling's society, either succumbing to
+its fascination or resisting it, as the case might be.
+
+Would it be nobler of me to give him up before he is really mine,
+knowing that in this way I am advancing his worldly interests? This is
+the question that I hope solitude will help me to answer, but its
+complications and side-issues are so many that I feel dazed by their
+number and their difficulty. I went to sleep last night echoing the
+old negro's prayer: "Thou knowest what's about right, Lord. Now do
+it!"
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+                                                            Tuesday
+
+8 A.M.--Nurse gives me an alcohol bath.
+
+8.30--She takes my pulse and temperature and enters them in the
+Bedside Record Book, afterwards reading me my diet-list. It seems I do
+not belong to the favored class, which, to be cured, is stuffed with
+pleasant things to eat; my symptoms demand a simple, unexciting bill
+of fare.
+
+9 o'clock--Breakfast.
+
+Fruit in season.
+
+(This is its only name, but everybody knows it
+by sight.)
+
+Poweretta Grits with Cream.
+Graham Muffins.
+Wheatoata Process Coffee.
+
+10.30--Hot fomentations.
+
+11.15--Drop of blood extracted from ear and subjected to examination.
+
+11.30--Glass of Certified Milk.
+
+12--Visit from physician.
+
+1--Dinner.
+
+Barley Broth.
+Lamb Chop--Hominy or Rice.
+Bread-and-butter Pudding
+Custard Sauce.
+
+2 to 3--Silent hour.
+
+3.30--Static electricity.
+
+4.15--Weight taken.
+
+4.30--Cold pack.
+
+5--Cup of Predigested Maltese Milk.
+
+5.30--Visit from head nurse.
+
+6.30--Supper.
+
+Cornetta Mush.
+Poached Egg on Whole-Wheat Toast.
+Sterilized Stewed Apples--Zephyrettes.
+Cup of Somnolina.
+(A beverage from which everything pleasant and
+harmful has been extracted by a beneficent process.)
+
+7.30--Miss Blossom, the nurse, insists on reading to me. It is not a
+good performance but it doesn't matter. I know that Dick and Amy
+Darling are just starting for the theater.
+
+8.30--Tepid sponge bath.
+
+9--Massage.
+
+9.30--Glass of peptonized water.
+
+9.45--Temperature and pulse taken.
+
+10--Lights out.
+
+Never in all my twenty-five years of life have I passed a busier or
+more exhausting day.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+                                                          Wednesday
+
+Precisely like Tuesday save for some new experiences in diet. There
+was a mild process-drink called Cocoatina; Teaette also made its
+appearance. There were dolls' mattresses of shredded excelsior
+moistened with milk; nut salad, and Grahamata mush. I could never have
+supposed so many new cereals could be invented.
+
+          There is mush in the evening, mush in the morning,
+          Mush when it's looked for and mush without warning.
+
+It is rather like the immortal "Charge of the Light Brigade":
+
+             Oats to the right of them,
+             Corn to the left of them,
+             Wheat to the north of them,
+             Grits to the south of them,
+             Into the Valley of Mush rode the two hundred.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+                                                           Thursday
+
+I was allowed to sit on my balcony for an hour this morning. This
+would have been a pleasant change had I not heartily disliked at first
+sight my next-door neighbor who was sitting on the adjoining balcony.
+At noon she sent me a bunch of pansies and her card: Mrs. Grosvenor
+Chittenden-Ffollette.
+
+Among fifty or sixty attendants there are always a few who gossip in
+spite of repeated warnings from the authorities. Sometimes it is a
+young nurse, sometimes a masseuse, a manicure or a shampooer, but
+there are always those who retail the news, mostly innocent news, of
+an institution like this. Cold-packing, or rubbing, or spraying, or
+electrifying, or brushing, or polishing--all these operations open the
+flood-gates of speech and no damming process is effectual. Miss Phoebe
+Blossom is the herald who proclaims tidings of various kinds in my
+room, and there is also a neophyte in the electricity department who
+is always full of information and quite unable to retain it. It would
+be almost more than human to ask them to be silent when they are the
+only links with the world outside. A system reduced to nothingness by
+a supper of Wheatoata Coffee, Cracker-dust Croquettes, Cosmos with
+milk, and a choice of Cerealina, Nuttetta, Proteinetta, or Glucosa is
+in no fit state to resist gossip.
+
+It seems that Mrs. Chittenden-Ffollette is more than a mere woman--she
+is a remarkable "case," and has proved a worldwide advertisement for
+this sanitarium. Dr. Stanwood has almost effected a cure; her disease
+has had to be named and her symptoms have been written up in all the
+medical journals. I don't know what sort of person she was before she
+became a case, but she is now a greater tyrant than Caligula or
+Catherine of Russia. As to her disease, she has those things that she
+ought not to have, and she has not those things that she ought to
+have, and there is no health in her; or at least there was not until
+she came here a year ago. Now she is strong enough to perambulate in
+the corridor a little while each morning or be wheeled along the
+board-walk in the afternoon, and when she hears that some of the other
+patients are suffering, she sneers at their modest, uninteresting
+ailments and glances in at their doors with half-disguised contempt.
+You know the expression of the prize dog who is borne from the show
+hung with medals and ribbons--how he gazes on the little mongrel curs
+that gather with the crowd in the streets?
+
+Her name, Chittenden-Ffollette, is of as vital importance as her
+medical-journal malady. When the third floor is in dire confusion; when
+Mrs. Parks has hysterics and Miss Simmons is crying for her mother, and
+Mrs. Bell's hot-water bottle has burst in the bed, and Miss Phipps has
+discovered that the undergraduate has bandaged the wrong ankle, Miss
+Blossom sometimes becomes flustered and hurried and calls her patient
+Mrs. Follett, whereupon she says, "_Chittenden_-Ffoll_ette, if_ you
+please!"
+
+If by any chance she sees the Chittenden-Ffollette without the hyphen
+in the Nurses' Bedside Record Book or scribbled on the morning paper
+she doesn't need any stimulant the rest of the day. The omission of
+the hyphen sends up her pulse and temperature to the required point
+for several hours, though there is always a reaction afterward. I've
+told Dr. Levi that I should name one of her complaints hyphenitis. The
+occasional operation performed on the hyphen by Miss Blossom, or the
+young lady at the stationery counter, might be called hyphenotomy.
+Everybody detests Mrs. Chittenden-Ffollette, but as the banner patient
+of the sanitarium she must be treated with respectful consideration.
+All America's most skillful physicians have struggled with her
+organism. They have tried to get her symptoms into line, so to speak,
+so as to deduce some theory from the grand array of phenomena, but the
+symptoms courteously decline to point in any one direction. When the
+doctors get seven eighths of them in satisfactory relation there are
+always two or three that stay out and sulk, refusing to collaborate in
+any sort of harmony. They act precisely like an obstinate jury, in
+that they calmly refuse to agree, and then Mrs. Chittenden-Ffollette
+appeals to a higher court where flaws in the testimony are always
+found, judgment is reversed, and a new trial ordered. The greatest
+surgeons in Europe have left the bedsides of crowned heads to ponder
+over her inscrutable mysteries, and have returned to their sovereigns
+crushed and humbled. All this attention would have upset a stronger
+character than hers, and now that she is in a fair way to recover, her
+pride will have its inevitable fall. Though much more agreeable and
+docile than when she entered, she is in uniformly low spirits. The
+truth is, she liked being an unsolved mystery and she is a good deal
+nettled at being found at last both soluble and curable--obliged to
+live, like an ex-president, on the glories of the past.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+                                                             Friday
+
+Buckle, in his "History of Civilization," claims that men and women
+are divided into three classes. The first and lowest talks of persons,
+the second of things, and the third and highest, of ideas. I should
+divide the human race into four, instead of three classes, and name as
+the lowest those persons who discuss their symptoms. The patients here
+are counseled not to do it, so the vice is reduced to a minimum, being
+practiced, say, not more than three out of the fourteen waking hours.
+
+Swinging in a hammock in a shady nook this afternoon the conversation
+that floated to me under my distant tree was somewhat after this
+fashion.
+
+Mrs. A. "Once I had neurasthenia. For three months I couldn't be moved
+in bed, and for nine weeks I couldn't turn my head on the pillow."
+
+_Mrs. B._ } "Mercy!"
+_Mrs. C._ } "Oh, Mrs. A.!"
+_Mrs. D._ } "Good gracious!"
+
+Mrs. E. "Cerebro-spinal meningitis is worse than neurasthenia. I had
+it four years ago, and the doctor said he'd never seen a woman live
+that was as ill as I was. One night my temperature was 167."
+
+_Mrs. C._ } "Goodness!"
+_Mrs. B._ } "That's pretty high!"
+_Mrs. A._ } "Are you sure?"
+
+Mrs. E. "Yes, I'm perfectly sure, or at least I think I am; I am
+seldom wrong on figures."
+
+Mrs. A. "I asked, because I've noticed here that the thermometers
+register only 110, and I wondered how they measured the temperature
+when it rose above that point."
+
+Mrs. E. (huffily). "Probably they have extra long thermometers for
+extreme cases."
+
+Mrs. F. "I am glad that in this sanitarium they take the temperature
+by tucking the barometer-thing under the arm. My doctor at home always
+puts it under the tongue, and it is a perfect nuisance. He never gets
+it well placed but that I think of something I want to say. Then, of
+course, I have to keep still for three minutes, which seem three
+hundred, and by that time I have either forgotten it or changed my
+mind, so there I am!"
+
+Mrs. G. "Just after my youngest child was three years old--"
+
+Mrs. F. (interrupting). "I was going to say, when Mrs. E. spoke about
+the barometer, that after I was engaged to Mr. F. I had a dreadful
+attack of brain fever. I was ill in bed three months and they couldn't
+touch a brush to my hair for nine days."
+
+Mrs. D. } "Horrors!"
+Mrs. E. } "Dreadful!"
+Mrs. C. } "Heavens!"
+
+Mrs. G. (bravely). "Just after my youngest child was three--"
+
+Mrs. X. "A man patient was brought on to our floor this morning."
+
+Mrs. S. "_Our_ floor? I wish they _would_ have separate corridors for
+male patients."
+
+Mrs. X. "This gentleman is an old friend of Dr. Levi's. His wife has
+been here four weeks, and now he's been taken ill, so they've put him
+next her on the first floor."
+
+Mrs. S. "I don't care, I hate to have him near us."
+
+Mrs. B. "Why? He's perfectly harmless; he is too ill to move."
+
+Mrs. C. "I'm sure I wish he could! Anything to relieve this hideous
+dullness. What's the matter with him, I wonder!"
+
+Mrs. D. "I'll ask Miss Oaks when I have my hot fomentations this
+afternoon; she knows everything and she's as generous as a prince with
+her knowledge."
+
+Mrs. G. (patiently). "Just after my youngest child was--"
+
+A nurse passes through the grove, bearing a sterilized tray with
+peptonized preparations on it.
+
+Mrs. Y. (calling her). "Nurse! what's the matter with the new
+man-patient on our floor?"
+
+Nurse (discreetly). "I don't know, Mrs. Y."
+
+Mrs. X. (as the nurse vanishes). "She does, but she's a stiff thing!
+Anyway, I heard the attendants whispering about him in the corridor
+before breakfast. Something--I think it's an organ--is floating about
+in him."
+
+All. "_Floating?_ What kind of an organ? Horrors!"
+
+Mrs. X. "I couldn't understand exactly. You know people always roar if
+they have nothing particular to say, but if it is interesting they
+whisper. I distinctly heard the word '_floating_.' I don't know
+whether it's one of his regular organs, or something he swallowed
+accidentally."
+
+Mrs. C. (plaintively). "Doctors are never satisfied. If anything
+floats they want to get it stationary, and if it's stationary they
+want to cut it loose."
+
+Mrs. G. "_Just after my youngest child_--"
+
+Mrs. B. "They say Mrs. H. is going to leave to-morrow; she doesn't
+like the food or the service."
+
+Mrs. E. "Goodness, she has all the service there is on our floor!
+Nobody else gets a chance! She spends her whole silent hour pushing
+the electric button."
+
+Mrs. D. "Yes, Miss Oaks declares she 'lays' on it. She says that the
+head nurse told Mrs. H. she must ring less frequently, or the bell
+would be removed. Miss Oaks says the patients that pay the smallest
+rates always ring the bells most. It isn't fair that a thirty-dollar
+patient should annoy a whole row of eighty-dollar ones and prevent
+their bells from being answered."
+
+Mrs. X. "There's nothing made out of Mrs. H. at thirty dollars a week.
+She was as contented as possible last night, but this morning she
+wanted her bed in the other corner, awnings put on the windows, and
+the bureau changed for a chiffonier. Come, we must all go in for
+treatment--it wants five minutes of four."
+
+Mrs. G., in despair, as she sees the occupants of the hammocks
+dispersing, almost shrieks: "JUST AFTER MY YOUNGEST--"
+
+But the ladies, for some reason or other, do not care to hear anything
+about Mrs. G.'s youngest, and she is obliged to seek another
+audience.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+                                                           Saturday
+
+The doctor found me "over-treated" this morning and advised a day of
+quiet, with a couple of hours on the roof-garden or under the trees.
+
+I have heard at various times sighs of weariness or discontent or pain
+issuing from the room opposite mine, and this afternoon when Miss
+Blossom had gone into Number 19 to sit with the haughty Mrs.
+Chittenden-Ffollette I stole across the corridor and glanced in at the
+half-open door of Number 18.
+
+The quaintest girl raised herself from a mound of sofa-pillows and
+exclaimed: "Why, you beautiful thing! Are you Number 17? I didn't know
+you looked like that!"
+
+"It's very kind of you," I answered, blushing at this outspoken
+greeting; "but I am not beautiful in the least; it is because you do
+not expect much from a person who has just crept out of bed. I don't
+look any better when I am dressed for a party."
+
+"You don't need to," she said. "Now get on my bed and cuddle under the
+afghan and we'll talk till Miss Blossom comes back. Won't she beat you
+for being out of your room? Why are you here? You haven't the least
+resemblance to a rest cure! What is the matter with you?"
+
+"Backache, sideache, shoulderache, headache, sensation of handcuffs on
+wrists, balls and chains on ankles, lack of appetite, and insomnia."
+
+"Is that all? Haven't you any disease?"
+
+"I believe not," I answered humbly, "but the effect is the same as if
+I had. Why are you here?" I asked in return, as I looked admiringly at
+her shining brown hair, plump, rosy cheeks, and dancing eyes.
+
+"I came here, so to speak, in response to an ideal; not my ideal--I
+never have any--but Laura Simonds's. She is my dearest friend and one
+of the noblest girls you ever knew. She said the separation from the
+world would do us both good, and so it might if she could have stayed
+to keep me company. Now she has the world and I have the separation."
+
+"She isn't here, then?"
+
+"No, worse luck! She is always working and planning for the good of
+others, but she is constantly meeting with ingratitude and
+misunderstanding. She had just brought me here when she was
+telegraphed for to turn about and go home. You see she had sent two
+ailing slum children to be taken care of at her house, and it proved
+to be scarlet fever, and, of course, her stepmother took it the first
+thing--she's a hateful person and takes everything she can get--and
+then the cook followed suit. Now they blame Laura and she has to find
+trained nurses and settle everything before she comes back to me."
+
+"Then you're not an invalid? I thought you were in pain and couldn't
+reach the bell. That's the reason I looked in."
+
+"Oh, dear, no, I was only yawning! I came for what Laura calls the
+healing influence of solitude, but Laura thought as the place was so
+expensive, and treatment was included, we'd better take Turkish baths,
+massage, and electricity, they're so good for the complexion. I have a
+little table to myself in the convalescents' dining-room and haven't
+made any acquaintances. I can't stand their sweetbread complexions and
+their double chins. The patients are all so fat they might sing Isaac
+Watts' hymn in unison: 'Much of my time has run to waist.'"
+
+"It is not an inspiring assemblage," I agreed, "though I haven't seen
+them all together, as you have."
+
+"And they think of nothing but themselves, which is exactly what I
+want to think about--myself, I mean. There's one charming girl on this
+floor. Something's the matter with her solar plexus and they won't
+allow her to talk, so we have had some nice conversations in the
+silent hour. They've told me now I mustn't call again; it seems that I
+was too exciting. Tell me something about yourself, Vashti--I am sure
+that's your name, or Semiramis or Zenobia or Judith, and if it isn't
+one or another of those I don't want to hear what it is, for you
+wouldn't look like it."
+
+Just here a page brought in a letter which she glanced through with an
+"Excuse me, please."
+
+"Oh, dear! Now Laura can't come to-morrow! She is certainly the most
+unfortunate being in the universe. She became very much interested in
+a deaf man that she met in her settlement work, and so as to give the
+poor thing employment she appointed him Superintendent of the Working
+Boys' Club. Now the working boys refuse to play with him and the
+directors have had a meeting asking Laura to remove him at once. I do
+think they might have endured him one season when I gave him a
+twenty-dollar ear-trumpet, but some people are utterly unreasonable;
+and here I am, in need of advice every moment, and Laura kept in the
+city!"
+
+"Haven't you any family?"
+
+"Not a soul; have you?"
+
+"No one but a cousin."
+
+"I believe nobody nice and interesting has a family nowadays. Laura
+has no one but an uncongenial stepmother, and that is the reason we
+are so intimate. I am so giddy and frivolous, and Laura is so noble
+and self-sacrificing that I try to form myself on her now and then,
+when I'm not too busy."
+
+"You live with her, do you?"
+
+"Oh, no! I don't live anywhere in particular. Of course I have a house
+and a lady housekeeper, but she doesn't count. I've been staying
+mostly with a Mrs. Beckett, an old friend of my mother's. She is the
+dearest and loveliest woman in the world and I can't bear to be away
+from her."
+
+"Why can't she join forces with you if you are so alone in the
+world?"
+
+"Because there's a son."
+
+"Is he too young, or too old, to join forces?"
+
+"No, he's just right, and he'd be only too glad to join forces, or
+anything else that had me in it, but he mustn't, and that's the reason
+Laura made me come here!" And with this she punched the sofa-pillows
+rebelliously, looking more like an enraged Angora kitten than anything
+else.
+
+"It's your hour for cold spray," said Jimmy, the page-boy, peeping in
+at the crack of the door.
+
+"I'll come!" she responded unwillingly. "Now do steal in again," she
+whispered, turning to me, "for I must talk to somebody, and if Laura
+could see you I know she would think you safer than anybody here."
+
+That afternoon, as I swung in my hammock in the grove below the
+sanitarium, I looked up at its three stories of height and its rows
+upon rows of windows, and wondered how many cases of neurasthenia
+under its roof were traceable to a conflict between love and
+conscience. "I begin to have an interest in that chatterbox neighbor
+of mine," I thought drowsily, "and that, after vowing not to make an
+acquaintance in this place. Love will be a side dish, not the roast,
+in her bill of fare, if I am any judge of character, and why does her
+Laura attempt to stem the natural tide of events? It is almost wicked
+of the Fates to give such a featherhead any problems to solve; she
+ought to have her what's-his-name, Beckett, if she wants him,
+particularly if he wants her. As for the noble Laura, I long to make
+her acquaintance. I can almost hear the uncongenial stepmother, the
+feverish cook, and the infuriated directors, clamoring for a
+providence to remove her from their field of vision, and substitute
+some thoroughly practical and ignoble person in her stead."
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+                                                             Sunday
+
+I was very happy all the morning; so happy that I forgot my tonics,
+massage, and sedative tablets; but the doctor called at noon and spoke
+of the wonderful way in which my system responded to his remedies, so
+I said nothing.
+
+Cousin Sarah forwarded me a letter from Richard Morton, who is
+superintending some surveying near a small town in Pennsylvania. He
+knows that I am not well and away from home on a visit to the country,
+but, of course, he is not aware of my exact whereabouts. It was just
+one of his gay, friendly letters, with an undertone of something
+warmer in it. Among other things he said:
+
+  How weak a thing is man! Now that you are so far away and I am
+  exiled in a village where there is but one post a day I suffer
+  pangs of hunger for a word from you. So far the one daily mail
+  would have been all too ample for your desires, since you have
+  not written a word as yet; but there is always the hope! I have
+  been speculating to-night upon the frightful risks and dangers
+  surrounding the man who is waiting for a letter. It seems to me
+  the very best postal service is inadequate to take care of a
+  letter from you to me! Think of the uncertainties and perils to
+  which it is exposed in transit! You give it to a maid to drop in
+  a pillar post-box, but she may forget and leave it in her
+  pocket, or she may lose it. Or say she drops it in; it must be
+  removed from the box by an ordinary human being who has no
+  conception of the issues involved in the rigid performance of
+  this particular duty. The letter is then taken to the branch
+  office of your section, then to the general post, and then to
+  the railway, where new dangers menace its precious existence.
+  The train may be robbed; and if a single letter is stolen it
+  will be yours to me. No man alive could resist a letter of yours
+  after he had once read one.
+
+Is there not a note of tenderness here, a note that has crept in only
+during the last few months? But what if there is? It occurred to me
+after dinner that the question of his feeling for me is not the only,
+nor even the principal one to be considered. The point under
+advisement is, shall I allow him to love me when there is something
+better in store for him?
+
+Miss Blossom had scarcely left my room this evening when I heard a
+pattering step and a hurried tap on my door. On my saying "Come," my
+opposite neighbor slipped in and turned the key in the lock. It was an
+unconventional and amusing performance, but I didn't mind. Somehow one
+couldn't mind anything with such a spoiled baby.
+
+"Good-evening, Zuleika!" she said. "No, you needn't smile and raise
+your finger at me as if you were dying to tell me your name is
+Abigail! Miss Blossom has gone for the night, hasn't she? I thought
+so. You know it's the nurses' ball this evening, and there's only one
+attendant on duty in each corridor from now to half-past nine. May I
+have this big chair by the window? I am so bored with this place that
+it excites me even to think how stupid it is. I almost wish I had a
+symptom or two, just by way of sensation. Did you have Somnolina for
+supper? I did, and some time I shall make a scene in the dining-room
+when I watch the hundred and fifty dyspeptics simultaneously lifting
+cups of Teaette or Somnolina to their parched lips."
+
+"You ought to be ashamed," I chided, "when you know almost every one
+who is here needs to be put upon a diet. You wouldn't expect
+champagne, terrapin, and canvasback ducks?"
+
+"I know it; don't scold, it makes you look like Cassandra. Isn't the
+moonlight enchanting, and if this weren't a health resort wouldn't it
+be a heaven upon earth?"
+
+The broad, unscreened windows were wide open and vines of woodbine or
+honeysuckle framed them on every side. A lake shone like a silver
+mirror in the distant landscape and the elms and maples and chestnuts
+swayed in the summer breeze. Little groups chatted on the broad
+piazzas, and here and there on a rustic bench in the moonlight sat a
+man and a woman--two minds with but a single thought, and that thought
+his or her own solar plexus.
+
+It was an hour for confidences, and I remember that my troubled heart
+cried out for a strong, tried friendship on which to draw for counsel
+and sympathy. What wonder, then, that the Angora kitten, deprived of
+her Laura, emptied her silky little head of some of its worries,
+divining that I was older and graver and perhaps would find her lost
+ball and give it to her to play with again.
+
+"There's no telling when Laura will be here!" she exclaimed
+despairingly. "When there is any duty within a thousand miles she
+stays to perform it. Mrs. Beckett has poisoned herself with mercury
+and Laura thinks she ought to go and nurse her for a day or two--as if
+Mrs. Beckett hadn't six maids and twenty thousand a year to spend in
+nurses! Laura can't bear Tom, his incurable levity gets on her nerves,
+and why she wants to martyr herself by staying in the house with him
+when I'd be only too glad to go, passes my comprehension!"
+
+(I can't explain it, but at this juncture I seemed to have visions of
+Laura flirting with the Beckett during the Kitten's absence.)
+
+"Sometimes," she continued, rippling along as if natural speech had
+been denied her for hours, "sometimes I wish I hadn't selected such a
+superior being for a bosom friend, and then again I despise myself for
+harboring such a mean feeling. I'm forever trying to climb, and Laura
+is continually trying to drag me to her level, but I suppose I don't
+belong there, and that's the reason I keep slipping off and sliding
+down. At this minute, if she'd let me be the groveling little
+earthworm I am by nature, I could marry Tom Beckett and be as happy as
+the day is long."
+
+"What is the matter?" I asked sympathetically, though rather ashamed
+to drop a plummet into so shallow a brook. "If you love his mother so
+dearly, and love him too, and are sure of his affection, why don't you
+marry him? Isn't he suitable?"
+
+"Oh, yes; he's almost too suitable; that's one of the lions in the
+way. His family is good, he is as handsome as Apollo, and he has a
+much larger income than mine, but you see there's another man."
+
+"Another man! You didn't mention him yesterday."
+
+"Didn't I? How funny! But after all it was our very first interview,
+and even silly I have my reserves."
+
+"Do you love them both equally?" I asked, trying to keep the note of
+sarcasm out of my voice.
+
+"Certainly not. I care nothing about anybody but Tom Beckett, but
+Laura says that such a marriage will simply mean a life of
+self-indulgent luxury, idleness, and pleasure. She says marriage is
+something loftier and nobler than pleasing one's self; that it ought
+to mean growth and development both to the man and the woman. She says
+that I should have no influence on Tom, and that I need somebody
+strong and serious to steady me. She says Tom and I would only frisk
+through life and leave the world no better or wiser than we found it.
+She even says" (and here she turned her face to the honeysuckles)--"I
+don't like to repeat it, but Laura is so advanced she makes my
+embarrassment seem simply idiotic--she even says that the children of
+such a union would be incurably light-minded and trivial; and oh,
+Zuleika, if one isn't a bit advanced in any way, doesn't it seem hard
+to keep from marrying somebody you love just for the good of a few
+frivolous children you've never seen in your life?"
+
+It was neither the place, the hour, nor the subject for laughter, but
+I forgot my neurasthenia and gave way to a burst of wholehearted
+mirth! Every second of time seemed to increase the unconscious humor
+of her point of view, and only fear of the nurse on duty in the
+corridor enabled me to control myself at all.
+
+"Have I been funny?" she asked delightedly, as she drew her head in
+the window. "I never can see my own jokes, but I'm glad to have amused
+you, only I did hope for a little sympathy. Everybody can't be
+Zenobias and Vashtis and Lauras, superior to common weaknesses!"
+
+"I do, I do sympathize," I said, wiping the tears of merriment from my
+eyes, "and I agree with you much more than with Laura. Now the 'other
+man' is, I suppose, all that is grave and reverend--a complete
+contrast to the too trivial Thomas?"
+
+"Yes, and he's as good as good can be; trustworthy, talented,
+honorable, everything; you know the kind? I never get on with them."
+
+"Does he love you?"
+
+"Laura thinks he does, but I've no reason to suppose so. We've always
+been friends, while Tom Beckett and I squabble and make up twice a
+week; but anyway, even if he doesn't adore me in Tom's silly way,
+Laura says I ought not to mind. She says it would be noble of me to
+help him to a splendid and prosperous career, and thinks I ought to
+remember how much my father wanted him for a son-in-law--you see he is
+awfully poor."
+
+At this coupling of fathers and poverty a sudden light blazed in upon
+my consciousness and I sat bolt upright among the sofa-pillows. How
+could I have guessed that the love-affairs of this rosy-cheeked
+dumpling, the casual acquaintance of a rest-cure, could have any
+connection with my own? If she hadn't been the sort of person who
+confides at first sight we should have learned each other's names at
+the beginning and been on guard. The truth is, I had thought of no one
+but Tom Beckett in her confessions; the personality of "the other man"
+had stolen into the chronicle so late in the day that I had taken no
+interest in him.
+
+"Are you Amy Darling?" I asked her plump.
+
+"Yes, but how mean of you to pump Blossom! I wanted to go on thinking
+of you as Zuleika and have you call me something imaginary and
+romantic."
+
+"I am Philippa Armstrong. Did you ever hear the name?"
+
+"No, but it's all right; it looks like you, and it's nearly as pretty
+as Zenobia. Now if Tom Beckett had only chosen you and I could have
+obliged Laura by falling in love with--"
+
+"Don't mention the other man's name!" I cried hastily; "it just comes
+to me that I may have met him."
+
+"Met Dick Morton?"
+
+It was true then! Here was the girl whom Richard ought, for his
+worldly good, to marry, and she was not a woman at all, only an Angora
+kitten, and moreover a kitten in love with Tom Beckett!
+
+"Yes, I have met him, but I only this moment suspected it!"
+
+"Have you known him long?"
+
+"Less than a year."
+
+"That settles it!" she cried, leaping to her feet excitedly. "If Dick
+Morton has known you for a year he won't want me and I can marry Tom!
+Goody, goody, goody!"
+
+"Stuff and nonsense!" I said quickly. "Richard Morton is only a very
+dear friend."
+
+"Stuff and nonsense yourself! No man with an eye in his head could be
+a dear friend to you! And Dick Morton is the hero sort who doesn't
+care for Dottie Dimples, but worships Vashtis and Zuleika-Zenobias.
+Have you any money?"
+
+"Not a penny!"
+
+"Oh, dear! I might have known you wouldn't have, with that hair and
+those eyes. Never mind! I'm certain that Dick would rather have a
+pauper goddess than a rich little earthworm."
+
+"You mustn't talk any more about the matter," I said with as much
+dignity as I could muster in the midst of her laughter-provoking
+nonsense, which made the most sacred subjects seem a natural matter of
+discussion. "I know through Mrs. Taunton all about the
+circumstances--your father's wishes and his letter to Richard. If you
+can possibly love him you must accept him, advance his fortunes, and
+do your duty by your father. I am determined to be as noble as Laura
+Simonds in this matter and I refuse to be a stumbling-block!"
+
+The girl fell limply into the lounging-chair.
+
+"Oh," she said despondently, "if _you_ are going to be noble, too,
+there's no use discussing the matter. What an example we shall be for
+the heathen nations! You will be noble and give up Dick Morton; I
+shall be noble and marry him; and be noble at the same time in giving
+up Tom; Tom will be noble in suffering me to marry anybody but
+himself; Dick will be noble in obliging my father and marrying me
+instead of you; Laura is always noble! We could use up a whole order
+of nobility among us! And it is all so silly! Do you suppose my dear
+father would want four of us to be unhappy, his own daughter among
+them? It's really only Laura who matters, and if you had any ingenuity
+you could pacify her and persuade her that it is my duty for once to
+follow my ignoble inclinations. I am afraid of her, but _you_ needn't
+be! You could blaze and flash and tower, if you only would, and save
+us all!"
+
+"You seem to forget," I urged, "that Mr. Morton has never asked me to
+marry him."
+
+"That's nothing; he has probably been thinking how he could get me
+nicely disposed of, or how he could earn a roof under which he could
+ask you to step in wet weather. He's been too stupid and moody and
+dull this last winter for any use, and now I understand him. Has he
+ever seen you like this with your Rebecca-at-the-well hair down?"
+
+"Certainly not!"
+
+"I thought so; or he'd have forgotten the necessary roof!--Come
+in!--Goodness! it's your room and I locked the door! Do excuse me;
+I'll open it. A telegram for you.--Wait outside for an answer,
+Jimmy."
+
+I tore open the envelope, confidently expecting that Cousin Sarah had
+been struck with paralysis; instead of which I read:
+
+                                       Archville, Pennsylvania,
+                                                        June 16
+
+  Have this moment secured a large and important contract assuring
+  two years' lucrative work. May I come to see you immediately?
+  Name earliest day.
+
+                                                          R. M.
+
+I handed the message to the Kitten, who read it and exclaimed: "I knew
+he was only waiting for the roof! You see he doesn't worry about _my_
+prospects--selfish pig! Answer it and say Thursday--you can get well
+by Thursday, can't you?--for I want to send for Tom on the same day.
+There's a polo game at home on Saturday, and Tom has a new motor car.
+Tell Dick the best hotel in the town is the Brooks House. I must wire
+to Laura, too. I shall say, let me see: I shall say: '_You shouldn't
+have left me. I couldn't be noble alone._' That's just ten words.
+She'll understand fast enough, and it will pave the way for you when
+you explain the situation to her. We'll leave the sanitarium Friday
+and get your Cousin Sarah to chaperon us on the journey home. Here,
+I've written my messages, now do yours--hurry! There!--Jimmy, you're
+too old to play with matches, aren't you?"
+
+"Yes, marm."
+
+"Very well, then, you can be trusted with these two telegrams. Don't
+hold them near the fire; there's a match in each of them."
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+SECOND WEEK
+
+As a patient Dr. Levi says I am almost as great a credit to the
+institution as Mrs. Chittenden-Ffollette herself.
+
+Monday.--I slept all day, waking only for meals.
+
+Tuesday.--The handcuffs slipped off my wrists and the balls and chains
+off my ankles.
+
+Wednesday.--My headache, sideache, backache, and shoulderache
+disappeared. Breakfasted with the doctor on coffee, hot biscuits,
+beefsteak, and griddle cakes with sausage.
+
+Thursday.--Richard Morton came.
+
+Friday.--Dismissed as completely cured.
+
+"The dimensions of this mercy are above my thoughts," as Cromwell
+wrote after the Worcester fight.
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+
+The Riverside Press
+CAMBRIDGE . MASSACHUSSETTS
+U . S . A
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Ladies-In-Waiting, by Kate Douglas Wiggin
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