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-*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30090 ***

-

-ROBINETTA

-

-

-

-

-By Kate Douglas Wiggin

-

-ROBINETTA. Illustrated. 12mo, $1.10 net. Postage, 10 cents.

-

-REBECCA OF SUNNYBROOK FARM. Holiday Edition. Illustrated. Crown 8vo, $1.50.

-

-SUSANNA AND SUE. Illustrated by Alice Barber Stephens. Crown 8vo, $1.50

-net. Postage 15 cents.

-

-THE OLD PEABODY PEW. With decorations and illustrations. Large crown 8vo,

-$1.50.

-

-REBECCA OF SUNNYBROOK FARM. 12mo, $1.25.

-

-NEW CHRONICLES OF REBECCA. Illustrated by F. C. Yohn. 12mo, $1.25.

-

-ROSE O' THE RIVER. Illustrated in color. 12mo, 1.25.

-

-THE AFFAIR AT THE INN. Illustrated. 12mo, $1.25.

-

-THE DIARY OF A GOOSE GIRL. Illustrated. 12mo, $1.00.

-

-A CATHEDRAL COURTSHIP, AND PENELOPE'S ENGLISH EXPERIENCES. Illustrated.

-16mo, $1.00.

-

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-

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-

-PENELOPE'S EXPERIENCES. I. England; II. Scotland; III. Ireland; Holiday

-Edition. With many illustrations by Charles E. Brock. 3 vols., each 12mo,

-$2.00; the set, $6.00.

-

-A CATHEDRAL COURTSHIP. Holiday Edition, enlarged. Illustrated by C. E.

-Brock. 12mo, $1.50.

-

-THE BIRDS' CHRISTMAS CAROL. Illustrated. Square 12mo, 50 cents.

-

-THE STORY OF PATSY. Illustrated. Square 12mo, 60 cents.

-

-A SUMMER IN A CAÑON. A California Story. Illustrated. 16mo, $1.25.

-

-TIMOTHY'S QUEST. A Story for Anybody, Young or Old, who cares to read it.

-16mo, $1.00. Holiday Edition. Illustrated. Crown 8vo, $1.50.

-

-POLLY OLIVER'S PROBLEM. Illustrated. 16mo, $1.00. In Riverside School

-Library. 60 cents, net; postpaid.

-

-THE VILLAGE WATCH-TOWER. 16mo, $1.00.

-

-MARM LISA. 16mo, $1.00.

-

-NINE LOVE SONGS, AND A CAROL. Music by Mrs. Wiggin. Words by Herrick,

-Sill, and others. Square 8vo, $1.25.

-

-HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY

-

-Boston and New York

-

-

-

-

-[Illustration]

-

-

-

-

-ROBINETTA

-

-by

-

-Kate Douglas Wiggin

-

-Mary Findlater

-

-Jane Findlater

-

-Allan McAulay

-

-BOSTON AND NEW YORK

-

-Houghton Mifflin Company

-

-The Riverside Press, Cambridge

-

-

-

-

-COPYRIGHT, 1910 AND 1911, BY KATE DOUGLAS RIGGS

-

-COPYRIGHT, 1911, BY HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY

-

-ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

-

-Published February 1911

-

-

-

-

-CONTENTS

-

-      I. THE PLUM TREE                                               1

-     II. THE MANOR HOUSE                                             7

-    III. YOUNG MRS. LORING                                          19

-     IV. A CHILLY RECEPTION                                         29

-      V. AT WITTISHAM                                               39

-     VI. MARK LAVENDAR                                              54

-    VII. A CROSS-EXAMINATION                                        69

-   VIII. SUNDAY AT STOKE REVEL                                      87

-     IX. POINTS OF VIEW                                             99

-      X. A NEW KINSMAN                                             113

-     XI. THE SANDS AT WESTON                                       127

-    XII. LOVE IN THE MUD                                           151

-   XIII. CARNABY TO THE RESCUE                                     170

-    XIV. THE EMPTY SHRINE                                          181

-     XV. "NOW LUBIN IS AWAY"                                       194

-    XVI. TWO LETTERS                                               210

-   XVII. MRS. DE TRACY CROSSES THE FERRY                           217

-  XVIII. THE STOKE REVEL JEWELS                                    234

-    XIX. LAWYER AND CLIENT                                         250

-     XX. THE NEW HOME                                              260

-    XXI. CARNABY CUTS THE KNOT                                     273

-   XXII. CONSEQUENCES                                              284

-  XXIII. DEATH AND LIFE                                            299

-   XXIV. GRANDMOTHER AND GRANDSON                                  309

-    XXV. THE BELLS OF STOKE REVEL                                  324

-

-

-

-

-ROBINETTA

-

-I

-

-THE PLUM TREE

-

-

-At Wittisham several of the little houses had crept down very close to

-the river. Mrs. Prettyman's cottage was just like a hive made for the

-habitation of some gigantic bee; its pointed roof covered with deep,

-close-cut thatch the colour of a donkey's hide. There were small

-windows under the overhanging eaves, a pathway of irregular flat

-stones ran up to the doorway, and a bit of low wall divided the tiny

-garden from the river. The Plum Tree grew just beside the wall, so

-near indeed that it could look at itself on spring days when the water

-was like a mirror. In autumn the branches on that side of the tree

-were the first to be shaken, lest any of the fruit should fall down

-and be lost. Sometimes a village child treading cautiously on bare

-toes amongst the stones along the narrow margin, would pounce upon a

-plum with a squeal of joy, for although the village was surrounded

-with orchards, the fruit of Mrs. Prettyman's tree had a flavour all

-its own.

-

-The tree had been given to her by a nephew who was a gardener in a

-great fruit orchard in the North, and her husband had planted and

-tended it for years. It began life as a slender thing with two or

-three rods of branches, that looked as if the first wind of winter

-would blow it away, but before the storms came, it had begun to

-trust itself to the new earth, and to root itself with force and

-determination. There were good soil and water near it, and plenty of

-sunshine, and, as is the way of Nature, it set itself to do its own

-business at all seasons, unlike the distracted heart of man. The

-traffic of the river came and went; around the headland the big

-ships were steering in, or going out to sea; and in the village

-the human life went on while the Plum Tree grew high enough to look

-over the wall. Its stem by that time had a firm footing; next it took

-a charming bend to the side, and then again threw out new branches

-in that direction. It turned itself from the prevailing wind, throwing

-a new grace into its attitude, and went on growing; returning in

-blossom and leaves and fruit an hundredfold for all that it received

-from the earth and the sun.

-

-In spring it was enchanting; at first, before the blossoms came out,

-with small bright leaves, and buds like pearls, heaped upon the

-branches; then, later, when the whole tree was white, imaged like a

-bride, in the looking-glass of the river. It only wanted a nightingale

-to sing in it by moonlight. There were no nightingales there, but the

-thrushes sang in the dawning, and the little birds whose voices were

-sweet and thin chirruped about it in crowds, while the larks, trilling

-out the ardour of mating time, sometimes rose from their nests in the

-grass and soared over its topmost branches on their skyward flight.

-

-Spring, therefore, was its merriest time, for then every passer-by

-would cry, "What a beautiful tree!" or "Did ye ever see the likes of

-it?"

-

-There were a few days of inevitable sadness a little later when its

-million petals fell and made a delicate carpet of snow on the ground.

-There they lay in a kind of fairy ring, as if there had been a shower

-of mother-of-pearl in the April night; and no human creature would

-have dared set a vandal foot on that magic circle, and mar the

-perfection of its beauty. All the same the Plum Tree had lost its

-petals, and that was hard to bear at first. But though its Wittisham

-neighbours often said to summer trippers, "I wish you could have seen

-it in blossom!" the Plum Tree did not repine, because of the

-secrets--the thousand, thousand secrets--it held under its leaves.

-"The blossoms were but a promise," it thought, "and soon everybody

-will see the meaning of them."

-

-Then the tiny green globes began to appear on every branch and twig;

-crowding, crowding, crowding till it seemed as if there could never be

-room for so many to grow; but the weaker ones fell from the boughs or

-were blown away when the wind was fierce, so the Plum Tree felt no

-anxiety, knowing that it was built for a large family! The little

-green globes grew and grew, and drank in sweet mother-juices, and

-swelled, and when the summer sun touched their cheeks all day they

-flushed and reddened, till when August came the tree was laden with

-purpling fruit; fruit so tempting that its rosy beauty had sometimes

-to be hidden under a veil of grey fishing net, lest the myriad

-bird-friends it had made during the summer should love it too much for

-its own good.

-

-So the Plum Tree grew and flourished, taking its part in the pageant

-of the seasons, unaware that its existence was to be interwoven with

-that of men; or that creatures of another order of being were to owe

-some changes in their fortunes to its silent obedience to the motive

-of life.

-

-

-

-

-II

-

-THE MANOR HOUSE

-

-

-The long, low drawing room of the Manor at Stoke Revel was the warmest

-and most genial room in the old Georgian house. It was four-windowed

-and faced south, and even on this morning of a chilly and backward

-spring, the tentative sunshine of April had contrived to put out the

-fire in the steel grate. One of the windows opened wide to the garden,

-and let in a scent which was less of flowers than of the promise of

-flowers--a scent of earth and green leaves, of the leafless daphne

-still a-bloom in the shrubbery, of hyacinths and daffodils and tulips

-and primroses still sheathed in their buds and awaiting a warmer air.

-

-But this promise of spring borne into the room by the wandering breeze

-from the river, was nipped, as it were, by the frigid spirit of age

-and formalism in its living occupants. Mrs. de Tracy, a lady of

-seventy-five, sat at her writing-table. Her companion, Miss Smeardon,

-a person of indeterminate age, nursed the lap-dog Rupert during such

-time as her employer was too deeply engaged to fulfil that agreeable

-duty. Mrs. de Tracy, as she wrote, was surrounded by countless

-photographs of her family and her wide connection, most prominent

-among them two--that of her husband, Admiral de Tracy, who had died

-many years ago, and that of her grandson, his successor, whose

-guardian she was, and whose minority she directed. Her eldest son, the

-father of this boy, who had died on his ship off the coast of Africa;

-his wife, dead too these many years; her other sons as well (she had

-borne four); their wives and children--grown men, fashionable women,

-beautiful children, fat babies: the likenesses of them all were around

-her, standing amid china and flowers and bric-a-brac on the crowded

-tables and what-nots of the not inharmonious and yet shabby Victorian

-room. Mrs. de Tracy, it might at a glance be seen, was no innovator,

-either in furniture, in dress, or probably in ideas. As she was

-dressed now, in the severely simple black of a widow, so she had been

-dressed when she first mourned Admiral de Tracy. The muslin ends of

-her widow's cap fell upon her shoulders, and its border rested on the

-hard lines of iron-grey hair which framed a face small, pale, aquiline

-in character and decidedly austere in expression.

-

-She took one from a docketed pile of letters and held it up under her

-glasses, the sun suddenly striking a dazzle of blue and green from the

-diamond rings on her small, withered hands. Then she read it aloud to

-her companion in an even and chilly voice. She had read it before, in

-the same way, at the same hour, several times. The letter, couched in

-an epistolary style largely dependent upon underlining, appeared to

-contain, nevertheless, some matter of moment. It was dated from Eaton

-Square, in London, some weeks before, and signed Maria Spalding. ("Her

-mother was a Gallup," Mrs. de Tracy would say, if any one asked who

-Maria Spalding was; and this was considered sufficient, for Mrs. de

-Tracy's maiden name had been Gallup,--not euphonious but nevertheless

-aristocratic.)

-

-                  *       *       *       *       *

-

-MY DEAR AUGUSTA (Maria Spalding wrote): I am going to ask you to

-help me out of a _difficulty_. There is no _use_ beating about the

-bush. You know that Cynthia's daughter Robinetta (Loring is her

-_married_ name) has been with me for a month. _American_ or no

-_American_, I meant to have had her for a part of the season, and to

-_present_ her, if possible (so _good_ for these Americans to learn

-what royalty _is_ and to breathe the atmosphere which doth hedge a

-_King_ as Shakespeare says, and which they can never _have_, of

-course, in a country like theirs). I know you can't _approve_, dear

-Augusta, and you will blame me for sentimentality--but I never

-_can_ forget what a _sweet_ creature Cynthia was before she ran away

-with that odious American--and my _greatest_ friend in girlhood, too,

-you must remember. So Robinette, as she is generally called, has

-come to my house as a _home_, but a most _unlucky_ thing has

-happened. I have had influenza so badly that it has affected my

-_heart_ (an old trouble), I am ordered to Nauheim, and Robinette is

-_stranded_, poor dear. She has few friends in London and certainly

-none who can put her up. Tho' she _is_ a widow, she is only twenty-two

-(just _imagine_!), very pretty, and really, tho' you won't believe

-it, _quite_ nice. I am _desperate_, and just wondering if you

-would let by-gones be by-gones, and receive her at Stoke Revel. She

-has set her heart upon seeing the place, and some _picture_ she

-was called after (I can't remember it, so it can't be one of the

-_famous_ Stoke Revel group--a _copy_, I fancy), and on paying a

-visit to Lizzie Prettyman, her mother's old nurse at Wittisham over

-the river. She _promised_ her mother she would do this--and such a

-promise is _sacred_, don't you think? It's such an _old_ story

-now, Cynthia's American marriage, and no fault of _Robinette's_,

-poor dear child. Her wish is almost a _pious_ one, don't you agree, to

-pay respect to her mother's memory and the family, and is _much_ to

-be encouraged in these days of radicalism, when every natural tie

-is loosened and people pay no more _respect_ to their parents than if

-they hadn't any, but had made themselves and brought themselves up

-from the beginning. So don't you think it's a _good_ thing to

-encourage the _right_ kind of feeling in Robinette, especially as

-she is an _American_, you know....

-

-                  *       *       *       *       *

-

-Mrs. de Tracy paused, and replaced the letter in the package from

-which she had withdrawn it.

-

-"Maria Spalding's point of view," she observed, "has, I confess,

-helped me to overcome the extreme reluctance I felt to receive the

-child of that American here. Cynthia de Tracy's elopement nearly broke

-my dear husband's heart. She was the apple of his eye before our

-marriage; so much younger than himself that she was like his child

-rather than his sister."

-

-"What a shock it must have been!" murmured the companion. "What

-ingratitude! Can you really receive her child? Of course you know

-best, Mrs. de Tracy; but it seems a risk."

-

-"Hardly a risk," rejoined Mrs. de Tracy with dignity. "But it is a

-trial to me, and an effort that I scarcely feel called upon to make."

-

-Miss Smeardon was so well versed in her duties that she knew she

-always had to urge her employer to do exactly what she most wanted to

-do, and the poor creature had developed a really wonderful ingenuity

-in divining what these wishes were. Just now, however, she was, to use

-a sporting phrase, "at fault" for a minute. She could not exactly

-tell whether Mrs. de Tracy wanted to be urged to ask her niece to

-Stoke Revel, or whether she wanted to be supplied with a really

-plausible excuse for not doing so. Those of you who have seen a hound

-at fault can imagine the companion at this moment: irresolute, tense,

-desperately anxious to find and follow up the right scent. Compromise,

-that useful refuge, came to her aid.

-

-"It _is_ difficult to know," she faltered. Then Mrs. de Tracy gave her

-the lead.

-

-"Maria Spalding is right when she says that my husband's niece

-contemplates a duty in visiting Stoke Revel," she announced. "The

-young woman is the lawful daughter of Cynthia de Tracy that was: our

-solicitors could never discover anything dubious in the marriage,

-though we long suspected it. Therefore, though I never could have

-invited her here, I admit that the Admiral's niece has a right to

-come, in a way."

-

-"Though her maiden name was Bean!" ejaculated the companion, almost

-under her breath. "There are Pease in the North, as everyone knows;

-perhaps there are Beans somewhere."

-

-"There have never been Beans," said Mrs. de Tracy solemnly and totally

-unconscious of a pun. "Look for yourself!"

-

-Miss Smeardon did not need to rise from her seat and fetch Burke: it

-lay always close at hand. She merely lifted it on to her knee and ran

-her finger down the names beginning with B-e-a.

-

-"Beaton, Beare, Beatty, Beale--" she read out, and she shook her head

-in dismal triumph; "but never a Bean! No! we English have no such

-dreadful names, thank Heavens!"

-

-"This is the beginning of April," pursued Mrs. de Tracy, referring to

-a date-card. "Maria Spalding's course at Nauheim will take three

-weeks. We must allow her a week for going and coming. During that time

-Mrs. David Loring can be my guest."

-

-"A whole month!" cried the companion, as though in ecstasy at her

-employer's generosity. "A whole month at Stoke Revel!"

-

-Mrs. de Tracy took no notice. "Write in my name to Maria Spalding,

-please," she commanded. "Be sure that there is no mistake about dates.

-Mention the departure and arrival of trains, and say that Mrs. David

-Loring will find a fly at the station. That is all, I think."

-

-The companion bent officiously forward. "You remember, of course, that

-young Mr. Lavendar comes down next week upon business?"

-

-"Well, what if he does?" asked Mrs. de Tracy shortly.

-

-"Mrs. David Loring is a widow," murmured the companion darkly; "a

-young American widow; and they are said to be so dangerous!"

-

-Mrs. de Tracy drew herself up. "Do you insinuate that the Admiral's

-niece will lay herself out to attract Mr. Lavendar, a widow in the

-house of a widow! You go rather too far, Miss Smeardon, though you are

-speaking of an American. Besides, allusions of this character are

-extremely distasteful to me. I have been told that the minds of

-unmarried women are always running upon love affairs, but I should

-hardly have thought it of you."

-

-"I'm sure I never imagined any about myself!" murmured Miss Smeardon

-with the pitiable writhe of the trodden-on worm.

-

-"I should suppose not," rejoined Mrs. de Tracy gravely, and the

-companion took up her pen obediently to write to Maria Spalding.

-

-"Shall I send your love to the Admiral's niece?" she humbly enquired,

-"or--or something of the kind?" There was irony in the last phrase,

-but it was quite unconscious.

-

-"Not my love," replied Mrs. de Tracy, "some suitable message. Make no

-mistake about the dates, remember."

-

-Thus a letter containing dates, and though not love, the substitute

-described by Miss Smeardon as "something of the kind" for an unwanted

-niece from an unknown aunt, left Stoke Revel by the afternoon post and

-reached Robinette Loring at breakfast next morning.

-

-

-

-

-III

-

-YOUNG MRS. LORING

-

-

-Young Mrs. Loring thought she had never taken so long a drive as that

-from the Weston railway station to Stoke Revel. The way stretched

-through narrow winding roads, always up hill, always between high

-Devonshire hedges. The rain-soaked lanes were slippery and she was

-unpleasantly conscious of the size and weight of the American wardrobe

-trunk that reared its mighty frame in front of her almost to the

-blotting-out of the driver, who steadied it with one hand as he plied

-the whip with the other. It struck her humorously that the trunk was

-larger than most of the cottages they were passing.

-

-It was a late spring that year in England,--Robinette was a new-comer

-and did not know that England runs to late and wet springs, believing

-that they make more conversation than early, fine ones,--and the

-trees were just bursting into leaf. The sun had not shone for three

-days and the landscape, for all its beautiful greenness, looked gloomy

-to an eye accustomed to a good deal of crude sunshine.

-

-As the horse mounted higher and higher Robinette glanced out of the

-windows at the dripping boughs and her face lost something of its

-sparkle of anticipation. She had little to expect in the way of a warm

-welcome, she knew that; or at least her mind knew it, but Robinette's

-heart always expected surprises, although she had lived two and twenty

-summers and was a widow at that.

-

-Her mother had been a de Tracy of Stoke Revel whose connection with

-that ancient family had ceased abruptly when she met an American

-architect while traveling on the Continent, married him out of hand

-and went to his native New England with him. The de Tracys had no

-opinion of America, its government, its institutions, its customs, or

-its people, and when they learned that Cynthia de Tracy had not only

-allied herself with this undesirable nation, but had selected a native

-by the name of Harold Bean, they regarded the incident of the marriage

-as closed.

-

-The union had been a happy one, though the de Tracys of Stoke Revel

-had always regarded the unfortunately named architect more as a

-vegetable than a human being; and the daughter of the marriage was the

-young Mrs. Loring now driving in the station fly to the home of her

-mother's people.

-

-Her father had died when she was fifteen and her mother followed three

-years after, leaving her with a respectable fortune but no relations;

-the entire family (happily, Mrs. de Tracy would have said) having died

-out with Harold. Robinette was unspeakably lonely, even with her

-hundred friends, for there was enough English blood in her to make her

-cry out inwardly for kith and kin, for family ties, for all the dear

-familiar backgrounds of hearth and home. Had a welcoming hand been

-stretched across the sea she would have flown at once to make

-acquaintance with the de Tracys, cold and indifferent as they had

-always been, but no bidding ever came, and the picture of the Manor

-House of Stoke Revel on her dressing-table was the only reminder of

-her connection with that ancient and honourable house.

-

-It is not difficult to see, under the circumstances, how the

-nineteen-year-old Robinette became the wife of the first man in whom

-she inspired a serious passion.

-

-It is incredible that women should confuse the passive process of

-being loved with the active process of loving, but it occurs

-nevertheless, and Robinette drifted into marriage with the vaguest

-possible notions of what it meant; feeling and knowing that she needed

-something, and supposing it must be a husband. It was better fortune,

-perhaps, than she merited, and equally kind for both parties, that her

-husband died before either of them realized the tragic mistake. David

-Loring was too absorbed in his own emotions to note the absence of

-full response on the part of his wife; Robinette was too much a child

-and too inexperienced to be conscious of her own lack of feeling.

-

-It was death, not life, that opened her eyes. When David Loring lay in

-his coffin, Robinette's heart was suddenly seized with growing pains.

-Her vision widened; words and promises took on a new and larger

-meaning, and she became a serious woman for her years, although there

-was an ineradicable gaiety of spirit in her that needed only sunshine

-to make it the dominant note of her nature.

-

-At the moment, Robinette, in the station fly on her way to Stoke

-Revel, was only in the making, although she herself considered her

-life as practically finished. The past and the present were moulding

-her into something that only the future could determine. Sometimes

-April, sometimes July, sometimes witch, sometimes woman; impetuous,

-intrepid, romantic, tempestuous, illogical,--these were but the

-elements of which the coming years of experience had yet to shape a

-character. Young Mrs. Loring had plenty of briars, but she had good

-roots and in favorable soil would be certain to bear roses.

-

-But in the immediate present, the fly with the immense American

-wardrobe trunk beside the driver, turned into the avenue of Stoke

-Revel, and Mrs. David Loring bestowed upon herself those little

-feminine attentions which precede arrival--pattings of the hair behind

-the ears, twitches of the veil, and pullings down about the waist and

-sleeves. A little toy of a purse made of golden chainwork, hanging

-from her wrist, was searched for the driver's fare, and it had hardly

-snapped to again when the fly drew up before the entrance to the

-house. How interesting it looked! Robinette put her head out of the

-carriage window and gazed up at the long row of windows, the old

-weather-coloured stones, and the carved front of the building. Here

-was a house where things might happen, she thought, and her young

-heart gave a sudden bound of anticipation.

-

-But the door was shut, alas! and a blank feeling came over Robinette

-as she looked at it. Some one perhaps would come out and welcome

-her, she thought for a brief moment, but only the butler appeared,

-who, with the formal announcement of her name, ushered her into a

-long, low room with a row of windows on one side and a pleasant

-old-fashioned look of comfort and habitation. She caught a glimpse

-of a tea-table with a steaming urn upon it, heard the furious barking

-of a little dog, saw that there were two figures in the room and

-moved instinctively towards the one beside the window, the figure in

-weeds, neither very tall nor very imposing, yet somehow formidable.

-

-"How do you do?" said an icy voice, and a chill hand held hers for a

-moment, but did not press it. The colour in Robinette's cheeks paled

-and then rushed back, as she drew herself up unconsciously.

-

-"I am very well, thank you, Aunt de Tracy," she answered with

-commendable composure.

-

-"This is my friend and companion, Miss Smeardon," continued Mrs. de

-Tracy, advancing to the tea-table where that useful personage

-officiated. "Mrs. David Loring--Miss Smeardon." Miss Smeardon had the

-dog upon her lap, yapping, clashing his teeth together, and obviously

-thirsting for the visitor's blood. He was quieted with soothing words,

-and Robinette seated herself innocently in the nearest chair, beside

-the table.

-

-"Excuse me!" the companion said with a slight cough; "Mrs. de Tracy's

-chair! Do you mind taking another?" There was something disagreeable

-in her voice, and in Mrs. de Tracy's deliberate scrutiny something so

-nearly insulting that a childish impulse to cry then and there

-suddenly seized upon Robinette. This was her mother's home--and no

-kiss had welcomed her to it, no kind word! There were perfunctory

-questions about her journey, references to the coldness and lateness

-of the spring, enquiries after the health of Maria Spalding (whose

-mother was a Gallup), but no claiming of kinship, no naming of her

-mother's name nor of her native country! Robinette's ardent spirit had

-felt sorrow, but it had never met rebuff nor known injustice, and the

-sudden stir of revolt at her heart was painful with an almost physical

-pain.

-

-After a long drawn hour of this social torture, Mrs. de Tracy rang,

-and a hard-featured elderly maid appeared.

-

-"Show Mrs. Loring to her room, Benson," said the mistress of the

-house, "and help her to unpack."

-

-Robinette followed her conductor upstairs with a sinking heart. Oh!

-but the chill of this English spring was in her bones, and the

-coldness of a reception so frigid that her passionate young spirit

-almost rebelled on the spot, prompting wild ideas and impulsive

-impossibilities; even a flight to her mother's old nurse--to Lizzie

-Prettyman, so often lovingly described, with her little thatched

-cottage beyond the river! Surely she would find the welcome there that

-was lacking here, and the touch of human kindness that one craved in a

-foreign land. But no! Robinette called to her aid her strong American

-common sense and the "grit" that her countrymen admire. Was she to

-confess herself routed in the very first onset--the very first attempt

-in storming the ancestral stronghold? With a characteristically quick

-return of hope, the Admiral's niece exclaimed, "Certainly not!"

-

-

-

-

-IV

-

-A CHILLY RECEPTION

-

-

-Mrs. Benson approached the wardrobe trunk with the air of a person who

-has taken an immediate and violent dislike to an object.

-

-"We have all looked at your box, ma'am, but I am sorry to say we are

-not sure that it is set up properly. It is very different from any we

-have ever seen at the Manor, and the men had some difficulty in

-getting it up to the room. I fancy it is upside down, is it not? No?

-We rather thought it was. I would call the boot-and-knife boy to

-unlock it, but he jammed his hand in attempting to force the catches,

-and I thought you would be kind enough to instruct me how to open it,

-perhaps?"

-

-"I am quite able to do it myself," said Robinette, keeping down a

-hysterical laugh. "See how easily it goes when you know the secret!"

-and she deftly turned her key in two locks one after the other, let

-down the mysterious façade of the affair, and pulled out an

-extraordinary rack on which hung so many dresses and wraps that Mrs.

-Benson lost her breath in surprise.

-

-"Would you like me to carry some of your things into another room,

-ma'am?" she asked. "They will never go in the wardrobe; it is only a

-plain English wardrobe, ma'am. We have never had any American

-guests."

-

-"The things needn't be moved," said Robinette, "many of them will be

-quite convenient where they are;--and now you need not trouble about

-me; I am well used to helping myself, if you will be kind enough to

-come in just before dinner for a moment."

-

-Mrs. Benson disappeared below stairs, where she regaled the injured

-boot-and-knife boy and the female servants with the first instalment

-of what was destined to be the most dramatic and sensational serial

-story ever told at the Manor House.

-

-"The lid of the box don't lift up," she explained, "like all the box

-lids as ever I saw, and me with Lady Chitterton for six years,

-traveling constantly. The front of the thing splits in the middle and

-the bottom half falls on the floor. A heathenish kind of tray lifts

-off from its hinges like a door, and a clothes rack pulls out on

-runners. 'T is a sight to curdle your blood; and the number of dresses

-she's brought would make her out to be richer than Crusoe!--though I

-have heard from a cousin of mine who was in service in America that

-the ladies over there spend every penny they can rake and scrape on

-their clothes. Their husbands may work their fingers to the bone, and

-their parents be in the workhouse, but fine frocks they will have!"

-

-"Rather!" said the boot-and-knife boy, nursing his injured thumb.

-

-On the departure of Mrs. Benson from her room, Robinette gave a

-stifled shriek in which laughter and tears were equally mingled. Then

-she flew like a lapwing to the fire-place and lifted off a fan of

-white paper from the grate.

-

-"No possibility of help there!" she exclaimed. "Cold within, cold

-without! How shall I unpack? How shall I dress? How shall I live

-without a fire? Ah! here is the coal box! Empty! Empty, and it is only

-the month of April! 'Oh! to be in England now that April's there!' How

-could Browning write that line without his teeth chattering! How well

-I understand the desire of the British to keep India and South Africa!

-They must have some place to go where they can get warm! Now for

-unpacking, or any sort of manual labour which will put my frozen blood

-in circulation!"

-

-Slapping her hands, beating her breast, stamping her feet, Mrs. Loring

-removed a few dresses from the offending trunk to the mahogany

-wardrobe, and disposed her effects neatly in the drawers of bureau and

-highboy.

-

-"I have made a mistake at the very beginning," she thought. "I

-supposed nothing could be too pretty for the Manor House and now I am

-afraid my worst is too fine. The Manor House of Stoke Revel! Wouldn't

-that appeal to anyone's imagination? Now what for to-night? White

-satin with crystal? Back you go into the trunk! Back goes the

-silver grey chiffon! I'll have it re-hung over flannel! Avaunt!

-heliotrope velvet with amethyst spangles, made with a view to

-ensnaring the High Church clergy! I wish I had a princess dress of

-moleskin with a court train of squirrel hanging from the shoulders!

-Here is the thing; my black Liberty satin two years old. I will

-cover part of my exposed neck and shoulders with a fichu of lace; my

-black silk openwork stockings will be drawn on over a pair of

-balbriggans, and the number of petticoats I shall don would discourage

-a Scotch fishwife! To-morrow I'll write Mrs. Spalding's maid to buy

-me two hot-water bottles, mittens, a box of quinine tablets and a

-Shetland shawl.... What are these--_fans?_ Retire into the depths of

-that tray and never look me in the face again!... _Parasols?_ I

-wonder at your impertinence in coming here! I shall give you cod

-liver oil and make you grow into umbrellas!"

-

-Presently the dinner gong growled through the house, and Robinette,

-still shivering, flung across her shoulders a shimmering scarf of

-white and silver. It fell over her simple black dress in just the

-right way, adding a last touch to the somewhat exotic grace which made

-her a stranger in her mother's home. Then she fled down the darkening

-passages, instinctively aware that unpunctuality was a crime in this

-house. Yet in spite of her haste, she paused before the window of an

-upper lobby, arrested by the scene it framed. Heavy rain still fell,

-and the light, made greenish by the nearness of great trees just

-coming into leaf, was cheerless and singularly cold. But that could

-not mar the majesty of the outlook which made the Manor of Stoke

-Revel, on its height, unique. Far below the house, the broad river

-slipped towards the sea, between woods that rose tier upon tier above

-and beyond--woods of beech and of oak, not yet green, but purplish

-under the rainy mist. On the bank, woods too, and here, where the

-river, in excess of strength, swirled into a creek--a shining

-sand-bank where fishing nets were hung. Then the low, strong tower of

-a church, with the sombreness of cypress beside it, and the thatched

-roofs of cottages.

-

-Something stirred in the heart of Robinette as she looked, that part

-of her blood which her English mother had given her. This scene, so

-indescribably English as hardly to be imaginable in another land, had

-been painted for her again and again by her mother with all the

-retrospective romance of an exile's touch. She knew it, but she did

-not know if she could ever love it, beautiful though it was and

-noble.

-

-But she banished these misgivings and ran down the twisted stairway

-so fast that she was almost panting when she reached the drawing-room

-door.

-

-"I will take your arm, please," said the hostess coldly, while Miss

-Smeardon wore the virtuous and injured air of one who has been kept

-waiting. Mrs. de Tracy laid, on the warm and smooth arm of her guest,

-one of her small, dry hands, sparkling with rings, and the procession

-closed with the companion and the lap-dog.

-

-In the dining room, the shutters were closed, and the candles, in

-branching candlesticks of silver, only partially lit a room long and

-low like the other. The walls were darkened with pictures, and

-Robinette's bright eyes searched them eagerly.

-

-"The Sir Joshua is not here!" she thought. "And it was not in the

-drawing room. Has Aunt de Tracy given, or hidden it away--my very own

-name-picture?"

-

-With all her determination, Robinette somehow could not summon courage

-enough to ask where this picture was. Such a question would involve

-the mention of her mother's name, and from that she shrank. Young Mrs.

-Loring had never before found herself in a society where conversation

-was apparently regarded as a crime, and to fit herself to her

-environment, under the scrutiny of Mrs. de Tracy and the decidedly

-inimical looks of the companion, took all her time. A burden of

-self-consciousness lay upon her such as her light and elastic spirit

-had never known. She found herself morbidly observant of minute

-details; the pattern of the tablecloth; the crest upon the spoons; the

-curious red knobs upon Miss Smeardon's fingers, and the odd mincing

-way she held her fork; the almost athletic efforts of the butler when

-he raised an enormous silver dish-cover, and the curiously frugal and

-unappetizing nature of the viand it disclosed. The wizened face of the

-lap-dog, too, peering over the table's edge, out of Miss Smeardon's

-lap, might have acquired its distrustful expression, Robinette

-thought, from habitual doubts as to whether enough to eat would ever

-be his good fortune. The meal ended with the ceremonious presentation

-to each lady in turn, of three wrinkled apples and two crooked bananas

-in a probably priceless dish of Crown Derby. Then the procession

-re-formed and returned to the drawing room.

-

-"And the evening and the morning were the first day!" sighed Robinette

-to herself in the chilly solitude of her own room. How often could she

-endure the repetition?

-

-

-

-

-V

-

-AT WITTISHAM

-

-

-"May I have a fire to dress by, Benson?" Robinette asked rather

-timidly that night, her head just peeping above the blankets.

-

-"_Fire_?" returned Benson, in italics, with an interrogation point.

-

-Robinette longed to spell the word and ask Benson if it had ever come

-to her notice before, but she stifled her desire and said, "I am quite

-ashamed, Benson, but you see I am not used to the climate yet. If

-you'll pamper me just a little at the beginning, I shall behave better

-presently."

-

-"I will give orders for a fire night and morning, certainly, ma'am,"

-said Benson. "I did not offer it because our ladies never have one in

-their bedrooms at this time of the year. Mrs. de Tracy is very strong

-and active for her age."

-

-"It's my opinion she's a w'eedler," remarked Benson at the housekeeper's

-luncheon table. "She asks for what she wants like a child. She has a

-pretty way with her, I can't deny that, but is she a w'eedler?"

-

-Wheedler or not, Robinette got her fire to dress by, and so was able

-to come down in the morning feeling tolerably warm. It was well that

-she was, for the cold tea and tough toast of the de Tracy breakfast

-had little in them to warm the heart. Conversation languished during

-the meal, and after a walk to the stables Robinette was thankful to

-return to her own room again on the pretext of writing letters. There

-she piled up the fire, drew her chair close up to the hearth, and

-employed herself until noon, when she took her embroidery and joined

-her aunt in the drawing room. Luncheon was announced at half past one,

-and immediately after it Mrs. de Tracy and Miss Smeardon went to their

-respective bedrooms for rest.

-

-"Are there indeed only twelve hours in the day?" Robinette asked

-herself desperately as she heard the great, solemn-toned hall clock

-strike two. It seemed quite impossible that it could be only two; the

-whole afternoon had still to be accounted for, and how? Well, she

-might look over her clothes again, re-arranging them in all their

-dainty variety in the wardrobe and drawers; she might put tissue paper

-into the sleeves of each bodice, smoothing out every crease; she might

-even find that some tiny repairs were needed! There were three new

-hats, and several pairs of new gloves to be tried on; her accounts

-must be made up, her cheque book balanced; yet all these things would

-take but a short time. Then the hall clock struck three.

-

-"I must go out," she thought.

-

-Coming through the hall from her room Robinette met her aunt and Miss

-Smeardon descending the staircase.

-

-"We are driving this afternoon," said Mrs. de Tracy, "would you not

-like to come with us?"

-

-The thought turned Robinette to stone: she had visited the stables,

-and seen the coachman lead what seemed to her a palsied horse out into

-the yard. Her sympathetic allusion to the supposed condition of the

-steed had not been well received, for the man had given her to

-understand that this was the one horse of the establishment, but

-Robinette had vowed never to sit behind it.

-

-"I think I'd rather walk, Aunt de Tracy," she said, "I'd like to go

-and see my mother's old nurse, Mrs. Prettyman. Can I do any errands

-for you?"

-

-"None, thank you. To go to Wittisham you have to cross the ferry,

-remember."

-

-"Oh! that must be simple! you may be sure I shall not lose myself!"

-said Robinette.

-

-Both the older women looked curiously at her for a moment; then Mrs.

-de Tracy said:--

-

-"You will kindly not use the public ferry; the footman will row you

-across to Wittisham at any hour you may mention to him."

-

-"Oh, but Aunt de Tracy, I'd really prefer the public ferry."

-

-"Nonsense, impossible; the footman shall row you," said Mrs. de Tracy

-with finality.

-

-Robinette said nothing; she hated the idea of the footman, but it

-seemed inevitable. "Am I never to get away from their dullnesses?" she

-thought. "A public ferry sounds quite lively in place of being rowed

-by William!"

-

-When the shore was reached, however, Robinette discovered that the

-passage across the river in a leaky little boat, rowed by a painfully

-inexperienced servant, was almost too much for her. To see him

-fumbling with the oars, made her tingle to take them herself; she

-could not abide the irritation of a return journey with such a

-boatman. This determination was hastened when she saw that instead of

-the three-decker steamer of her native land, the ferry at Wittisham

-was just like an ordinary row-boat; that one rang a bell hanging from

-a picturesque tower; that a nice young man with a sprig of wallflower

-in his cap rowed one across, and that each passenger handed out a

-penny to him on the farther side.

-

-"How enchantingly quaint!" she cried. "William, you can go home; I

-shall return by the public ferry."

-

-William looked surprised but only replied, "Very good, ma'am."

-

-On warm summer afternoons the tiny square of Mrs. Prettyman's garden

-made as delightful a place to sit in as one could wish. There was

-sunshine on the turf, and a thin shade was cast by the drooping boughs

-of the plum tree; just enough to shelter old eyes from the glare. When

-she was very tired with doing her work Mrs. Prettyman would totter out

-into the garden. She was getting terribly lame now, yet afraid to

-acknowledge it, knowing, with the desperate wisdom of poverty, that

-once to give in, very often ended in giving up altogether. So her

-lameness was 'blamed on the weather,' 'blamed on scrubbing the

-floor,' blamed on anything rather than the tragic, incurable fact of

-old age. This afternoon her rheumatism had been specially bad: she had

-an inclination to cry out when she rose from her chair, and every step

-was an effort. Yet the sunshine was tempting; it warmed old and aching

-bones through and through as no fire could do; and Mrs. Prettyman

-thought she must make the effort to go out.

-

-She had just arrived at this conclusion, when a tap came to the door.

-

-"That you, Mrs. Darke?" she called out in her piping old voice. "Come

-in, me dear, I'm that stiff with me rheumatics to-day I can't scarce

-rise out of me chair."

-

-"It's not Mrs. Darke," said Robinette, stooping to enter through the

-tiny doorway. "It's a stranger, Mrs. Prettyman, come all the way from

-America to see you."

-

-"Lor' now, Miss, whoever may you be?" the old woman cried, making as

-if she would rise from her chair. But Robinette caught her arm and

-made her sit still.

-

-"Don't get up; please sit right there where you are, and I'll take

-this chair beside you. Now, Mrs. Prettyman, look at me hard, and tell

-me if you know who I am."

-

-The old woman gazed into Robinette's face, and then a light seemed to

-break over her.

-

-"It's Miss Cynthia's daughter you are!" she cried. "My Miss Cynthia as

-went and married in America!"

-

-She caught Robinette's white ringed hands in hers, and Robinette bent

-down and kissed the wrinkled old face.

-

-"I know that mother loved you, Nurse," she said. "She used often,

-often to tell me about you."

-

-After the fashion of old people, Mrs. Prettyman was too much moved to

-speak. Her face worked all over, and then slow tears began to run down

-her furrowed cheeks. She got up from her chair and walked across the

-uneven floor, leaning on a stick.

-

-"I've something here, Miss, I've something here; something I never

-parts with," she said. A tall chest of drawers stood against the wall,

-and the old woman began to search among its contents as she spoke. At

-last she found a little kid shoe, laid away in a handkerchief.

-

-"See here, Miss! here's my Miss Cynthia's shoe! 'T was tied on to my

-wedding coach the day I got married and left her. My 'usband 'e

-laughed at me cruel because I'd have that shoe with me; but I've kept

-it ever since."

-

-Robinette came and stood beside her, and they both wept together over

-the silly little shoe.

-

-"I want to talk a great deal to you, Nurse; I want to tell you all

-about mother and father, and how they died," said Robinette through

-her tears. How strange that she should have to come to this cottage

-and to this poor old woman before she found anyone to whom she could

-speak of her beloved dead! Her heart was so full that she could

-scarcely speak. A crowd of memories rushed into her mind; last scenes

-and parting words; those innumerable unforgettable details that are

-printed once for all upon the heart that loves and feels.

-

-"I'd like to tell you about it out of doors, Nurse dear," she said

-tearfully; "can you come out under the plum tree in your garden? It's

-lovely there."

-

-"Yes, dearie, yes, we'll come out under the plum tree, we will,"

-echoed Mrs. Prettyman.

-

-"See, Nursie, take my arm, I'll help you out into the warm sunshine,"

-Robinette said.

-

-They progressed very slowly, the old woman leaning with all her weight

-upon the arm of her strong young helper. Then under the flickering

-shade of the tree they sat down together for their talk.

-

-So much to tell, so much to hear, the afternoon slipped away unknown

-to them, and still they were sitting there hand in hand talking and

-listening; sometimes crying a little, sometimes laughing; a queerly

-assorted couple, these new-made friends.

-

-But when all the recollections had been talked over and wept over,

-when Mrs. Prettyman had told Robinette, with the extraordinary detail

-that old people can put into their memories of long ago, all that she

-remembered of Cynthia de Tracy's childhood, then Robinette began to

-question the old woman about her own life. Was she comfortable? Was

-she tolerably well off? Or had she difficulty in making ends meet?

-

-To these questions Mrs. Prettyman made valiant answers: she had a fine

-spirit, and no wish to let a stranger see the skeleton in the

-cupboard. But Robinette's quick instinct pierced through the veil of

-well-meant bravery and touched the truth.

-

-"Nurse dear," she said, "you say you're comfortable, and well off, but

-you won't mind my telling you that I just don't quite believe you."

-

-"Oh, my dear heart, what's that you be sayin'? callin' of me a liar?"

-chuckled the old woman fondly.

-

-Robinette rose from her seat on the bench and stood back to

-scrutinize the cottage. It was exquisitely picturesque, but this

-very picturesqueness constituted its danger; for the place was a

-perfect death trap. The crumbling cob-walls that had taken on those

-wonderful patches of green colour, soaked in the damp like a sponge:

-the irregularity of the thatched roof that looked so well, admitted

-trickles of rain on wet nights; and the uneven mud floor of the

-kitchen revealed the fact that the cottage had been built without any

-proper foundation. The door did not fit, and in cold weather a

-knife-like draught must run in under it. All this Robinette's

-quick, practical glance took in; she gave a little nod or two,

-murmuring to herself, "A new thatch roof, a new door, a new cement

-floor." Then she came and sat down again.

-

-"Tell me now, how much do you have to live on every week, Nurse?" she

-asked.

-

-"Oh, Miss Robinette--ma'am, I should say--'t is wonderful how I gets

-on; and then there's the plum tree--just see the flourish on it,

-Missie dear! 'T will have a crop o' plums come autumn will about drag

-down the boughs! I don't know how 't would be with me without I had

-the plum tree."

-

-"Do you really make something by it?" Robinette asked.

-

-The old woman chuckled again. "To be sure I makes; makes jam every

-autumn; a sight o' jam. Come inside again, me dear, an' see me jam

-cupboard and you'll know."

-

-She hobbled into the kitchen, and opened the door of a wall press in

-the corner. There, row above row stood a solid phalanx of jam pots; it

-seemed as if a whole town might be supplied out of Mrs. Prettyman's

-cupboard.

-

-"'T is well thought of, me jam," the old woman said, grinning with

-pleasure. "I be very careful in the preparing of 'en; gets a penny the

-pound more for me jam than others, along of its being so fine."

-

-Robinette was charmed to see that here Mrs. Prettyman had a reliable

-source of income, however slender.

-

-"How much do you reckon to get from it every year?" she asked.

-

-"Going five pounds, dear: four pounds fifteen shillings and sixpence,

-last autumn; and please the Lord there's a better crop this season, so

-'t will be the clear five pounds. Oh! I do be loving me plum tree like

-a friend, I do."

-

-They turned back into the sunshine again, that Robinette should admire

-this wonderful tree-friend once more. She stood under its shadow with

-great delight, as the Bible says, gazing up through the intricate

-network of boughs and blossom to the cloudless blue above her.

-

-"It's heavenly, Nurse, just heavenly!" she sighed as she came and sat

-down beside the old woman again.

-

-"Then there's me duck too, Missie! Lard, now I don't know how I'd be

-without I had me duck. Duckie I calls 'er and Duckie she is; company

-she is, too, to me mornin's, with her 'Quack, Quack,' under the

-winder."

-

-So the old woman prattled on, giving Robinette all the history of her

-life, with its tiny joys and many struggles, till it seemed to the

-listener that she had always known Mrs. Prettyman, the plum tree, and

-her duck--known them and loved them, all three.

-

-

-

-

-VI

-

-MARK LAVENDAR

-

-

-Hundreds of years ago the street of Stoke Revel village, if street it

-could be called, and the tower of the ancient church, must have looked

-very much the same as now.

-

-On such a day, when the oak woods were budding, and the English birds

-singing, and the spring sun was hot in a clear sky, a knight riding

-down the steep lane would have taken the same turn to the left on his

-way to the Manor. Were he a young man, he would probably have reined

-up his horse for a moment, and looked, as Mark Lavendar did now, at

-the blithe landscape before him. Only then the accessories would have

-been so different: the great horse, somewhat tired by long hours of

-riding, the armour that glinted in the sun, the casque pushed up to

-let the fresh air play upon the rider's face; such a figure must have

-often stood just at that turn where the lane wound up the little hill.

-The landscape was the same, and young men in all ages are very much

-the same, so--although this one had merely arrived by train, and

-walked from the nearest station--Mark Lavendar stopped and leaned over

-the low wall when he came to the turn of the road, and looked down at

-the river.

-

-He boasted no war horse nor armour; none of the trappings of the older

-world added to his distinction, and yet he was a very pleasing figure

-of a man.

-

-The gaunt brown face was quite hard and solemn in expression; ugly,

-but not commonplace, for as a friend once said of him, "His eyes seem

-to belong to another person." It was not this, but only that the eyes,

-blue as Saint Veronica's flower, showed suddenly a different aspect of

-the man, an unexpected tenderness that flatly contradicted the hard

-features of his face. He looked very nice when he laughed too, so

-that most people when they had found out the trick, tried to make him

-laugh as often as possible.

-

-"What a day! Heavens! what a lovely day," he said to himself as he

-leaned on the low wall. "I want to be courting Amaryllis somewhere in

-these woods, and instead I've got to go and talk business with that

-old woman;" and he looked ruefully towards the Manor House; for this

-was not his first visit by any means, and he knew only too well the

-hours of boredom that awaited him. Mrs. de Tracy, strange to say, had

-a soft side towards this young man, the son of her family solicitor.

-Mark was invariably sent down by his father when there was any

-business to be transacted at Stoke Revel. The older man was fond of a

-good dinner, and hated circumlocution about affairs, and it was only

-when a death in the family, or some other crucial event, made his

-presence absolutely necessary that he came down himself. Mark was

-sacrificed instead, and many a wearisome hour had he spent in that

-house. However on this occasion he had been glad enough to get out of

-London for a while; the country was divine, and even the de Tracy

-business did not occupy the whole day. There would be hours on the

-river; afternoons spent riding along those green lanes through which

-he had just passed, where the banks were starred with little vivid

-flowers. Mark had an almost childish delight in such beauty. He had

-loitered on the way along, flung himself down on a bank for a few

-minutes, and burying his face amongst the flowers, listened with a

-smile upon his mouth to the birds that chirruped in the branches of

-the oak above him.

-

-Now he leaned on the low wall, and gazed at the shining reaches of the

-river. "What a day!" he said to himself again. "What a divine

-afternoon"; then he added quite simply, "I wish I were in love;

-everyone under eighty ought to be, on such a day!"

-

-Even at the age of thirty most men of any personal attractions have

-some romantic memories. Lavendar had his share, but somehow that

-morning he was disconcertingly candid to himself. It may have been the

-sudden change from London air and London noise; something in the clear

-transparency of the April day, in the flute-like melody of the birds'

-song, in the dream-like beauty of the scene before him, that made all

-the moth and rust that had consumed the remembrances of the past more

-apparent. There was little of the treasure of heaven there,--it had

-mostly been nonsense or vanity or worse. He wanted, oh, how he wanted,

-to be able just for once to surrender himself to what was absolutely

-ideal; to have a memory when he was an old man, of something that had

-no fault in it.

-

-"No, I've never been really in love," he said to himself, "I may as

-well confess it; and I daresay I never shall be, but marry on an

-impulse like most men, make the best of it afterwards, and have a

-sort of middle-class happiness in the end of the day."

-

-"One, Two, Three," said the church clock from the ancient tower,

-booming out the note, and Lavendar started, and rubbed his hands

-across his dazzled eyes. "Luncheon is a late meal in that awful house,

-if I remember," he said, "but it must be over by this time. I really

-must go in. Let me collect my thoughts; the business is 'just things

-in general,' but especially the sale of some cottage or other and the

-land it stands on. Yes, yes, I remember; the papers are all right. Now

-for the old ladies."

-

-He made his entrance into the Manor drawing room a few minutes later

-with a charming smile.

-

-Mrs. de Tracy actually walked a few steps to meet him, with a greeting

-less frigid than usual.

-

-"I'm glad to see you, Mark," said she. "Bates said you preferred to

-walk from the station."

-

-Mark turned his kind eyes on Miss Smeardon, and held her knuckly hand

-in his own almost tenderly. It was a very bad habit, which had led to

-some mischief in the past, that when he was sorry for a thing he

-wanted to be very kind to it; and this made him unusually pleasing,

-and dangerous!

-

-"Business first and pleasure afterwards; excellent maxim!" he said to

-himself half an hour later, as he removed the dust of travel from his

-person, preparatory to an interview with Mrs. de Tracy. "Now for it!"

-

-He liked the drawing room at Stoke Revel and always wished it had

-other occupants when he entered it. This afternoon it seemed

-particularly agreeable, the open windows letting in the slanting

-sunshine and a strong scent of jonquils and sweet briar.

-

-"Well, Mrs. de Tracy," said Mark, "I am my father's spokesman, you

-know, and we have serious business to discuss. But tell me first,

-how's my young friend Carnaby?"

-

-"Thank you; my grandson has a severe attack of quinsy," replied Mrs.

-de Tracy. "He is to have sick-leave whenever the Endymion returns to

-Portsmouth."

-

-"Oh! Carnaby will make short work of an attack of quinsy," said

-Lavendar, genially.

-

-"It would please me better," retorted Mrs. de Tracy severely, "if my

-grandson showed signs of mental improvement as well as bodily health.

-His letters are ill-spelled, ill-written, and ill-expressed. They are

-the letters of a school-boy."

-

-"He is not much more than a school-boy, is he?" suggested Mark, "only

-fifteen! The mental improvement will come; too soon, for my taste. I

-like Carnaby as he is!"

-

-The young man had seated himself beside his hostess in an attitude of

-perfect ease. Though bored by his present environment, he was entirely

-at home in it. Just because he greatly dared towards her and was never

-afraid, Mrs. de Tracy liked him. With the mere flicker of an eyelid,

-she dismissed the attendant Smeardon.

-

-"There has been an offer for the land at Wittisham," Lavendar said,

-when they were alone.

-

-Mrs. de Tracy winced. "That is no matter of congratulation with me,"

-she said bleakly.

-

-"But it is with us, for it is a most excellent one!" returned the

-young man hardily. "The firm has had the responsibility of advising

-the sale, which we consider absolutely unavoidable in the present

-financial condition of Stoke Revel. We have advertised for a year, and

-advertisement is costly. Now comes an offer of a somewhat peculiar

-kind, but sound enough." Lavendar here produced a bundle of documents

-tied with the traditional red tape. "An artist," he continued,

-"Waller, R. A.--you know the name?"

-

-"I do not," interpolated Mrs. de Tracy grimly.

-

-"Nevertheless, a well known painter," persisted Mark, "and one, as it

-happens, of the orchard scenery of this part of England. He has known

-Wittisham for a long time, and only last year he made a success with

-the painting of a plum tree which grows in front of one of the

-cottages. It was sold for a large sum, and, as a matter of sentiment,

-I suppose, Waller wishes to buy the cottage and make it into a summer

-retreat or studio for himself."

-

-"He cannot buy it," said Mrs. de Tracy with the snort of a war horse.

-

-"He cannot buy it apart from the land," insinuated Mark, "but he is

-flush of cash and ready to buy the land too--very nearly as much as we

-want to sell, and the bargain merely waits your consent. The sum that

-has been agreed upon is of the kind that a man in the height of his

-triumph offers for a fancy article. No such sum will ever be offered

-for land at Wittisham again; old orchard land, falling into desuetude

-as it is and covered with condemned cottages."

-

-Mrs. de Tracy was sternly silent, and Mark awaited her next words with

-some curiosity. He felt like a torturer drawing the tooth of a Jew in

-the good old days. This sale of land was a bitter pill to the widow,

-as it well might be, for it was the beginning of the end, as the de

-Tracy solicitors could have told you. There had been de Tracys of

-Stoke Revel since Queen Elizabeth's time, but there would not be de

-Tracys of Stoke Revel much longer,--unless young Carnaby married an

-heiress when he came of age--and that no de Tracy had ever done.

-

-"The land across the river," Mrs. de Tracy said at last, "was the

-first land the de Tracys held, but much of it went at the Restoration.

-Well, let this go too!" she added harshly.

-

-Mark blessed himself that indecision was no part of the lady's

-character and sighed with relief. "My father would like to know," he

-said, "what you propose to do with regard to the old woman who is the

-present tenant of the cottage."

-

-"Elizabeth Prettyman is not a tenant," said Mrs. de Tracy coldly.

-"She is practically a pensioner, since she lives rent-free."

-

-"True, I forgot," said Mark soothingly. "I beg your pardon."

-

-"Do not suppose that it is by my wish," continued Mrs. de Tracy

-coldly. "I have never approved of supporting the peasantry in

-idleness. This woman happened to be for some years nurse to Cynthia de

-Tracy, my husband's younger sister, who deeply offended her family by

-marrying an American named Bean. I see no claim in that to a pension

-of any kind."

-

-"But your husband saw it, I imagine," interpolated Mark quietly, and

-Mrs. de Tracy gave him a fierce look, which he met, however, without a

-sign of flinching.

-

-"My husband had a mistaken idea that Prettyman was poor when she

-became a widow," said Mrs. de Tracy. "On the contrary she had

-relations quite well able to support her, I believe. I never cross the

-river, in these days, and the matter has escaped my memory, so that

-things have been left as they were."

-

-"No great loss," said Mark candidly, "since the cottage in its present

-state is utterly unfit for any tenant. As to Prettyman, is it your

-intention to give her notice to quit?"

-

-"Unquestionably, since the cottage is needed," answered Mrs. de Tracy.

-"She has occupied it too long as it is." The speaker's lips closed

-like a vice over the words.

-

-"God pity Elizabeth Prettyman!" ejaculated Lavendar to himself. "Might

-is Right still, apparently, at Stoke Revel!" Aloud he merely said, "A

-weak deference to public opinion was never a foible of yours, Mrs. de

-Tracy; but I think I would advise you to consider some question of

-compensation to Mrs. Prettyman for the loss of the cottage."

-

-"If you can show me that the woman has any legal claim upon the

-estate, I will consider the question, but not otherwise," said Mrs. de

-Tracy with such an air of finality that Lavendar was inclined to let

-the matter drop for the moment.

-

-"The firm," he said, "will communicate your wishes to Mrs. Prettyman

-by letter."

-

-"Prettyman cannot read," snapped Mrs. de Tracy. "She must be told, and

-the sooner the better."

-

-"Well, Mrs. de Tracy," said the young man with a short laugh,

-"provided it is not I who have to tell her, well and good. I warn you

-the task would not be to my taste unless compensation were offered

-her."

-

-Mrs. de Tracy's features hardened to a degree unusual even to her.

-

-"I am apparently less tender-hearted than you," she said sardonically.

-"I shall, if I think fit, deal with Prettyman in person." The subject

-was dropped, and Lavendar rose to leave the room, but Mrs. de Tracy

-detained him.

-

-"The Admiral's niece, Mrs. David Loring, is my guest at present," she

-said. "It happens that she has crossed the river to Wittisham and is

-paying a visit to Prettyman. I should be obliged, Mark, if you would

-row across and fetch her back, as by some misunderstanding, my servant

-has not waited for her. You are an oarsman, I know."

-

-The young man consented with alacrity. "I shall kill two birds with

-one stone," he said cheerfully, "I shall visit the famous plum tree

-cottage and see Mrs. Prettyman for myself; and I shall have the

-privilege of executing your commission as Mrs. Loring's escort. It

-sounds a very agreeable one!"

-

-"You have no time to lose," said Mrs. de Tracy with a glance at the

-clock.

-

-

-

-

-VII

-

-A CROSS-EXAMINATION

-

-

-Lavendar escaped from the house, where, even in the smoke-room, it

-seemed unregenerate to light a cigar, and took the path to the shore.

-

-"I wonder if one woman staying in a house full of men would find life

-as depressing as I do cooped up here under precisely opposite

-circumstances," he thought, as he made his way through the little

-churchyard. "It cannot be the atmosphere of femininity that bores me,

-however, for Mrs. de Tracy has a strongly masculine flavour and Miss

-Smeardon is as nearly neuter as a person can be."

-

-He took a couple of oars from the boat-house as he passed, and going

-to the little landing stage untied the boat and started for the

-farther shore.

-

-It was good to feel the water parting under his vigorous strokes and

-delightful to exert his strength after the hours of stifled irritation

-at the Manor. It was a bright, calm close of day, when in the rarefied

-evening air each sound began to acquire the sharpness that marks the

-hour. He could hear the rush of the waters behind the boat and the

-voices of the fishers farther up the stream. As he drew up to the bank

-and took in his oars the stillness was so great that you could have

-heard a pin fall, when suddenly from a tree above him a bird broke

-into one little finished song and then was still, as if it had uttered

-all it wished to say.

-

-"What a heavenly evening!" thought Lavendar, "and what a lovely spot!

-That must be the cottage just above me. Mrs. de Tracy said I should

-know it by the plum tree. Ah, there it is!" Tying up the boat he

-sprang up the steps and walked along the flagged path. The plum tree

-these last few days had begun to look its fairest. The blossoms did

-not yet conceal the leaves, but it was a very bower of beauty already.

-There was a little table spread for tea under its branches, and an old

-woman like thousands of old women in thousands of cottages all over

-England, was sitting behind it, precisely as if she had been a

-coloured illustration in a summer number of an English weekly. She was

-on the typical bench in the typical attitude, but instead of the

-typical old man in a clean smock frock who should have occupied the

-end of the bench, there sat beside her a distinctly lovely young

-woman. What struck Lavendar was the wealth of colour she brought into

-the picture: goldy brown hair, brown tweed dress, with a cape of blue

-cloth slipping off her shoulders, and a brown toque with a pert

-upstanding quill that seemed to express spirit and pluck, and a merry

-heart. His quick glance took in the little hands that held the

-withered old ones. Both heads were bowed and in the brown tweed lap

-was a child's shoe,--a wee, worn, fat shoe. Beside it lay an absurd

-bit of crumpled, tear-soaked embroidery that had been intended to do

-duty as a handkerchief but had evidently proved quite unseaworthy.

-

-Waddling about on the flags close to the little table was a large fat

-duck wearing a look of inexpressible greed. "_Quack, quack, quack_!"

-it said, waddling off angrily as Lavendar approached.

-

-At the sound of the duck's raucous voice both the women looked up.

-

-"Is this Mrs. Prettyman's cottage, ma'am?" Lavendar asked with his

-charming smile.

-

-"Yes, sir, 't is indeed, and who may you be, if I may be so bold as to

-ask?"

-

-"I'm Mr. Lavendar, Mrs. de Tracy's lawyer, Mrs. Prettyman. I'm come to

-do some business at Stoke Revel," he added, for the old face had

-clouded over, and Mrs. Prettyman's whole expression changed to one of

-timid mistrust. "I really was sent by Mrs. de Tracy," he went on,

-turning to Robinette, "to take you home; Mrs. Loring, isn't it?"

-

-"Yes, I am Mrs. Loring," she said, frankly holding out her hand to

-him. "I knew you were expected at Stoke Revel, but I sent the footman

-back myself. He spoils the scenery and the river altogether."

-

-"I've got a boat down there; Mrs. de Tracy doesn't quite like your

-taking the ferry; may I have the honour of rowing you across? My

-orders were to bring you back as soon as possible."

-

-"I'm blest if I hurry," was his unspoken comment as Robinette gaily

-agreed, and, having bidden good-bye to the old woman, with a quick

-caress that astonished him a good deal, she laid down the little shoe

-gently upon the bench, and turned to accompany him to the boat.

-

-The river was like a looking-glass; the air like balm. "We'll

-take some time getting across, against the tide," said Lavendar

-reflectively, as he resolved that the little voyage should be

-prolonged to its fullest possible extent. He was not going into

-the Manor a moment earlier than he could help, when this charming

-person was sitting opposite to him. So this was Mrs. Loring! How

-different from the stout middle-aged lady whom Mrs. de Tracy's

-words had conjured up when he set out to find her!

-

-"Old Mrs. Prettyman was my mother's nurse," Robinette remarked as

-Lavendar dipped his oars gently into the stream and began to row. "I

-went to see her feeling quite grown up, and she seemed to consider me

-still a child; I was feeling about four years old at the moment when

-you appeared and woke me to the real world again."

-

-She had dried her eyes now and had pulled her hat down so as to shade

-her face, but Lavendar could see the traces of her weeping, and the

-dear little ineffectual rag of a handkerchief was still in one hand.

-

-"What on earth was she crying about?" he thought, as with lowered eyes

-he rowed very slowly across, only just keeping the boat's head

-against the current, and glancing now and then at the young woman.

-

-Was it possible that this lovely person was going to be his

-fellow-guest in that dull house? "My word! but she's pretty! and what

-were the tears about ... and the little shoe? Did it belong to a child

-of her own? Can she be a widow, I wonder," said Lavendar to himself.

-

-"I often think," he said suddenly, raising his head, "that when two

-people meet for the first time as utter strangers to each other, they

-should be encouraged, not forbidden, to ask plain questions. It may be

-my legal training, but I'd like all conversation to begin in that way.

-As a child I was constantly reproved for my curiosity, especially when

-I once asked a touchy old gentleman, 'Which is your glass eye? The one

-that moves, or the one that stands still?'"

-

-The tears had dried, the hat was pushed back again, the young woman's

-face broke into an April smile that matched the day and the weather.

-

-"Oh, come, let us do it," she exclaimed. "I'd love to play it like a

-new game: we know nothing at all about each other, any more than if we

-had dropped from the moon into the boat together. Oh! do be quick!

-We've so little time; the river is quite narrow; who's to open the

-ball?"

-

-"I'll begin, by right of my profession; put the witness in the box,

-please.--What is your name, madam?"

-

-"Robinette Loring," she said demurely, clasping her hands on her knee,

-an almost childlike delight in the new game dimpling the corners of

-her mouth from time to time.

-

-"What is your age, madam?" Lavendar hesitated just for a moment before

-putting this question.

-

-"I refuse to answer; you must guess."

-

-"Contempt of Court--"

-

-"Well, go on; I'm twenty-two and six weeks."

-

-"Thank you, you are remarkably well preserved. I can hardly

-believe--those six-weeks! What nationality?"

-

-"American, of course, or half and half; with an English mother and

-American ideas."

-

-"Thank you. Where is your present place of residence?"

-

-"Stoke Revel Manor House."

-

-"What is the duration of the visit?"

-

-"Fixed at a month, but may be shortened at any time for bad

-behaviour."

-

-"Your purpose in coming to Stoke Revel?"

-

-"A Sentimental Journey, in search of fond relations."

-

-"Have you found these relations?"

-

-"I've found them; but the fondness is still to seek."

-

-"Have you left your family in America?"

-

-"I have no one belonging to me in the world," she answered simply, and

-her bright face clouded suddenly.

-

-There was a moment's rather embarrassed silence. "It's getting to be a

-sad game"; she said. "It's my turn now. I'll be the cross-examiner,

-but not having had your legal training, I'll tell you a few facts

-about this witness to begin with. He's a lawyer; I know that already.

-Your Christian name, sir?"

-

-"Mark."

-

-"Mark Lavendar. 'Mark the perfect man.' Where have I heard that; in

-Pope or in the Bible? Thank you; very good; your age is between thirty

-and thirty-five, with a strong probability that it is thirty-three. Am

-I right?"

-

-"Approximately, madam."

-

-"You are unmarried, for married men don't play games like this; they

-are too sedate."

-

-"You reassure me! Am I expected to acknowledge the truth of all your

-observations?"

-

-"You have only to answer my questions, sir."

-

-"I am unmarried, madam."

-

-"Your nationality?"

-

-"English of course. You don't count a French grandmother, I suppose?"

-

-Robinette clapped her hands. "Of course I do; it accounts for this

-game; it just makes all the difference.--Why have you come to Stoke

-Revel; couldn't you help it?"

-

-A twinkle passed from the blue eyes to the brown ones.

-

-"I am here on business connected with the estate."

-

-"For how long?"

-

-"An hour ago I thought all might be completed in a few days, but these

-affairs are sometimes unaccountably prolonged!" (Was there another

-twinkle? Robinette could hardly say.) They were half-way across the

-river now. She leaned over and looked at herself in the water for a

-moment.

-

-Lavendar rested on his oars, and began to rub the palms of his hands,

-smiling a little to himself as he bent his head.

-

-"Yours is an odd Christian name," he said. "I've never heard it

-before."

-

-"Then you haven't visited your National Gallery faithfully enough,"

-said Mrs. Loring. "Robinetta is one of the Sir Joshua pictures there,

-you know, and it was a great favourite of my mother's in her girlhood.

-Indeed she saved up her pin-money for nearly two years that she might

-have a good copy of it made to hang in her bedroom where she could

-look at it night and morning."

-

-"Then you were named after the picture?"

-

-"I was named from the memory of it," said Robinette, trailing her hand

-through the clear water. "Mother took nothing to America with her but

-my father's love (there was so much of that, it made up for all she

-left behind), so the picture was thousands of miles away when I was

-born. Mother told me that when I was first put into her arms she

-thought suddenly, as she saw my dark head, 'Here is my own Robinetta,

-in place of the one I left behind,' and fell asleep straight away,

-full of joy and content."

-

-"And they shortened the name to Robinette?"

-

-"I was christened properly enough," she answered. "It was the world

-that clipped my name's little wings; the world refuses to take me

-seriously; I can't think why, I'm sure; I never regarded _it_ as a

-joke."

-

-"A joke," said Lavendar reflectively; "it's a sort of grim one at

-times; and yet it's funny too," he said, suddenly raising his eyes.

-

-"Now that's the odd thing I was thinking as I looked at you just now,"

-Robinette said frankly. "You seem so deadly solemn until you look up

-and laugh--and then you _do_ laugh, you know. That's the French

-grandmother again! It was nice in her to marry your grandfather! It

-helped a lot!"

-

-He laughed then certainly, and so did she, and then pointed out to him

-that they were being slowly drifted out of their course, and that if

-he meant to get across to the landing-stage he must row a little

-harder.

-

-"I have met American women casually;" he said, bending to his oars,

-"but I have never known one well."

-

-"It's rather too bad to disturb the tranquillity of your impressions,"

-returned Mrs. Loring composedly.

-

-Lavendar looked up with another twinkle. She seemed to provoke

-twinkles; he did not realize he had so many in stock.

-

-"You mean American women are not painted in quite the right colours?"

-

-"I suppose black _is_ a colour?"

-

-"Oh! I see your point of view!" and Lavendar twinkled again.

-

-"I can tell you in five sentences exactly what you have heard about

-us. Will you say whether I am right? If you refuse I'll put you in the

-witness box and then you'll be forced to speak!"

-

-"Very well; proceed."

-

-"One: We are clever, good conversationalists, and as cold as

-icicles."

-

-"Yes."

-

-"Two: We dress beautifully and use extravagant means to compass our

-ends in this direction."

-

-"Yes."

-

-"Three: We keep our overworked husbands under strict discipline."

-

-"Yes! I say,--I don't like this game."

-

-"Neither do I, but it's very much played,--"

-

-"Four: We prefer hotels to home life and don't bring up our children

-well."

-

-"Yes."

-

-"Five: We interfere with the proper game laws by bagging English

-husbands instead of staying on our own preserves. That's about all, I

-think. Were not those rumours tolerably familiar to you in the

-ha'penny papers and their human counterparts?"

-

-Lavendar was so amused by this direct storming of his opinion that he

-could hardly keep his laughter within bounds. "I've heard one other

-criticism," he said, "that you were all pretty and all had small feet

-and hands! I am now able to declare that to be a base calumny and to

-hope that all the others will prove just as false!" Then Robinette

-laughed too; eyes, lips, cheeks! When Lavendar looked at her he wished

-that his father would keep him at Stoke Revel for a month.

-

-The sun was going down now, and the rising tide came swelling up from

-the sea, lifting itself and silently swelling the volume of the river,

-in a way that had something awful about it. The whole current of the

-great stream was against it, but behind was the force of the sea and

-so it filled and filled with hardly a ripple, as the heart is filled

-with a new desire. Up from the mouth of the river came a faint breeze

-bringing the taste of the ocean into the deeply wooded creeks. It had

-freshened into a little wind, as they drew up at the boat-house, that

-flapped Robinette's blue cape about her, and dyed the colour in her

-cheeks to a livelier tint. As they walked up the narrow pathway to the

-house a deep silence fell between them that neither attempted to

-break.

-

-At the top of the hill, she paused to take breath, and look across the

-river. It was half dark already there, on the other side in the deep

-shadow of the hill; and a lamp in the window of the cottage shone like

-a star beside the faintly green shape of the budding plum tree.

-

-As Robinette entered the door of the Manor House she took out her

-little gold-meshed purse and handed Mark Lavendar a penny.

-

-"It's none too much," she said, meeting his astonished gaze with a

-smile. "I should have had to pay it on the public ferry, and you were

-ever so much nicer than the footman!"

-

-Lavendar put the penny in his waistcoat pocket and has never spent it

-to this day. It is impossible to explain these things; one can only

-state them as facts. Another fact, too, that he suddenly remembered,

-when he went to his room, was, that the moment her personality touched

-his he was filled with curiosity about her. He had met hundreds of

-women and enjoyed their conversation, but seldom longed to know on the

-instant everything that had previously happened to them.

-

-

-

-

-VIII

-

-SUNDAY AT STOKE REVEL

-

-

-On Sundays, the Stoke Revel household was expected to appear at church

-in full strength, visitors included.

-

-"We meet in the hall punctually at a quarter to eleven," it was Miss

-Smeardon's duty to announce to strangers. "Mrs. de Tracy always

-prefers that the Stoke Revel guests should walk down together, as it

-sets a good example to the villagers."

-

-"What Nelson said about going to church with Lady Hamilton!" Lavendar

-had once commented, irrepressibly, but the allusion, rather

-fortunately, was lost upon Miss Smeardon. Mark began to picture the

-familiar Sunday scene to himself; Miss Smeardon in the hall at a

-quarter to eleven punctually, marshalling the church-goers; and Mrs.

-Loring,--she would be late of course, and come fluttering downstairs

-in some bewitching combination of flowery hat and floating scarf that

-no one had ever seen before. What a lover's opportunity in this

-lateness, thought the young man to himself; but one could enjoy a walk

-to church in charming company, though something less than a lover.

-

-It was Mrs. de Tracy's custom, on Sunday mornings, to precede her

-household by half an hour in going to the sanctuary. No infirmities of

-old age had invaded her iron constitution, and it was nothing to her

-to walk alone to the church of Stoke Revel, steep though the hill was

-which led down through the ancient village to the yet more ancient

-edifice at its foot. During this solitary interval, Mrs. de Tracy

-visited her husband's tomb, and no one knew, or dared, or cared to

-enquire, what motive encouraged this pious action in a character so

-devoid of tenderness and sentiment. Was it affection, was it duty, was

-it a mere form, a tribute to the greatness of an owner of Stoke

-Revel, such as a nation pays to a dead king? Who could tell?

-

-The graveyard of Stoke Revel owned a yew tree, so very, very old that

-the count of its years was lost and had become a fable or a fairy

-tale. It was twisted, gnarled, and low; and its long branches, which

-would have reached the ground, were upheld, like the arms of some

-dying patriarch, by supports, themselves old and moss-grown. Under the

-spreading of this ancient tree were graves, and from the carved,

-age-eaten porch of the church, a path led among them, under the green

-tunnel, out into the sunny space beyond it. The Admiral lay in a vault

-of which the door was at the side of the church, for no de Tracy, of

-course, could occupy a mere grave, like one of the common herd; and

-here walked the funereal figure of Mrs. de Tracy, fair weather or

-foul, nearly every Sunday in the year.

-

-In justice to Mrs. de Tracy, it must be made plain that with all her

-faults, small spite was not a part of her character. Yet to-day, her

-anger had been stirred by an incident so small that its very

-triviality annoyed her pride. It was Mark Lavendar's custom, when his

-visits to Stoke Revel included a Sunday, cheerfully to evade

-church-going. His Sundays in the country were few, he said, and he

-preferred to enjoy them in the temple of nature, generally taking a

-long walk before lunch. But to-day he had announced his intention of

-coming to service, and well Mrs. de Tracy, versed in men and in human

-nature, knew why. Robinette would be there, and Lavendar followed, as

-the bee follows a basket of flowers on a summer day. As Mrs. de Tracy,

-like the Stoic that she was, accepted all the inevitable facts of

-life,--birth, death, love, hate (she had known them all in her day),

-she accepted this one also. But in that atrophy of every feeling

-except bitterness, that atrophy which is perhaps the only real

-solitude, the only real old age, her animosity was stirred. It was as

-though a dead branch upon some living tree was angry with the spring

-for breathing on it. As she returned, herself unseen in the shadow of

-the yew tree, she saw Lavendar and Robinette enter together under the

-lych-gate, the figure of the young woman touched with sunlight and

-colour, her lips moving, and Lavendar smiling in answer. In the

-clashing of the bells--bells which shook the air, the earth, the

-ancient stones, the very nests upon the trees--their voices were

-inaudible, but in their faces was a young happiness and hope to which

-the solitary woman could not blind herself.

-

-Presently in the lukewarm air within, Robinette was finding the

-church's immemorial smell of prayer-books, hassocks, decaying wood,

-damp stones, matting, school-children, and altar flowers, a harmonious

-and suggestive one if not pleasant. What an ancient air it was, she

-thought; breathed and re-breathed by slow generations of Stoke

-Revellers during their sleepy devotions! The very light that entered

-through the dim stained glass seemed old and dusty, it had seen so

-much during so many hundred years, seen so much, and found out so many

-secrets! Soon the clashing of the bells ceased and upon the still

-reverberating silence there broke the small, snoring noises of a

-rather ineffectual organ, while the amiable curate, Rev. Tobias Finch,

-made his appearance, and the service began.

-

-Mrs. de Tracy had entered the pew first, naturally; Miss Smeardon sat

-next, then Robinetta. Lavendar occupied the pew in front, alone, and

-through her half-closed eyelids Robinetta could see the line of his

-lean cheek and bony temple. He had not wished to sit there at all and

-he was so unresigned as to be badly in need of the soothing influences

-of Morning Prayer. Robinetta was beginning to wonder dreamily what

-manner of man this really was, behind his plain face and non-committal

-manner, when the muffled slam of a door behind, startled her, followed

-as it was by a quick step upon the matted aisle. Then without further

-warning, a big, broad-shouldered boy, in the uniform of a British

-midshipman, thrust himself into the pew beside her, hot and breathless

-after running hard. Mrs. Loring guessed at once that this must be

-Carnaby de Tracy, the young hopeful and heir of Stoke Revel of whom

-Mr. Lavendar had so often spoken, but the startling and unconventional

-nature of his appearance was not at all what one expected in a member

-of his family. Robinette stole more than one look at him as the

-offertory went round; a robust boy with a square chin, a fair face

-burnt red by the sun, a rollicking eye and an impudent nose; not

-handsome certainly, indeed quite plain, but he looked honest and

-strong and clean, and Robinette's frolicsome youth was drawn to his,

-all ready for fun. Carnaby hitched about a good deal, dropped his

-hymn-book, moved the hassock, took out his handkerchief, and on

-discovering a huge hole, turned crimson.

-

-Service over, the congregation shuffled out into the sunshine, and

-Mrs. de Tracy, after a characteristically cool and disapproving

-recognition of her grandson, became occupied with villagers.

-Lavendar made known young Carnaby to Mrs. David Loring, but the

-midshipman's light grey eyes had discovered the pretty face without

-any assistance.

-

-"This lady is your American cousin, Carnaby," said Mark. "Did you know

-you had one?"

-

-"I don't think I did," answered the boy, "but it's never too late to

-mend!" He attempted a bow of finished grown-upness, failed somewhat,

-and melted at once into an engaging boyishness, under which his

-frank admiration of his new-found relative was not to be hidden. "I

-say, are you stopping at Stoke Revel?" he asked, as though the news

-were too good to be true. "Jolly! Hullo--" he broke off with

-animation as the cassocked figure of the Rev. Tobias Finch fluttered

-out from the porch--"here's old Toby! Watch Miss Smeardon now! She

-expects to catch him, you know, but he says he's going to be a

-celly--celly-what-d'you-call-'em?"

-

-"Celibate?" suggested Lavendar, with laughing eyes.

-

-"The very word, thank you!" said Carnaby. "Yes: a celibate. Not so

-easily nicked, good old Toby--you bet!"

-

-"Do the clergymen over here always dress like that?" inquired

-Robinetta, trying to suppress a tendency to laugh at his slang.

-

-"Cassock?" said Carnaby. "Toby wouldn't be seen without it. High, you

-know! Bicycles in it. Fact! Goes to bed in it, I believe."

-

-"Carnaby, Carnaby! Come away!" said Lavendar. "Restrain these flights

-of imagination! Don't you see how they shock Mrs. Loring?"

-

-Before the Manor was reached, Robinetta and Carnaby had sworn eternal

-friendship deeper than any cousinship, they both declared. They met

-upon a sort of platform of Stoke Revel, predestined to sympathy upon

-all its salient characteristics; two naughty children on a holiday.

-

-"Do you get enough to eat here?" asked Carnaby in a hollow whisper, in

-the drawing-room before lunch.

-

-"Of course I have enough, Middy," answered Robinetta with unconscious

-reservation. She had rejected "Carnaby" at once as a name quite

-impossible: he was "Middy" to her almost from the first moment of

-their acquaintance.

-

-"Enough?" he ejaculated, "_I_ don't! I'd never be fed if it weren't

-for old Bates and Mrs. Smith and Cooky." Bates was the butler, Mrs.

-Smith the housekeeper, and Cooky her satellite. "Nobody gets enough to

-eat in this house!" added Carnaby darkly, "except the dog."

-

-At the lunch-table, the antagonism natural between a hot-blooded

-impetuous boy and a grandmother such as Mrs. de Tracy became rather

-painfully apparent. He had already been hauled over the coals for his

-arrival on Sunday and his indecorous appearance in church after

-service had begun.

-

-"It does not appear to me that you are at all in need of sick-leave,"

-said Mrs. de Tracy suspiciously.

-

-Carnaby, sensitive for all his robustness, flushed hotly, and then

-became impertinent. "My pulse is twenty beats too quick still, after

-quinsy. If you don't believe the doctor, ma'am, it's not my fault."

-

-"Carnaby has committed indiscretions in the way of growing since I

-last saw him," Lavendar broke in hastily. "At sixteen one may easily

-outgrow one's strength!"

-

-"Indeed!" said Mrs. de Tracy, frigidly. The situation was saved by the

-behaviour of the lap-dog, which suddenly burst into a passion of

-barking and convulsive struggling in Miss Smeardon's arms. His enemy

-had come, and Carnaby had fifty ways of exasperating his grandmother's

-favourite, secrets between him and the bewildered dog. Rupert was a

-Prince Charles of pedigree as unquestioned as his mistress's and an

-appearance dating back to Vandyke, but Carnaby always addressed him as

-"Lord Roberts," for reasons of his own. It annoyed his grandmother and

-it infuriated the dog, who took it for a deadly insult.

-

-"Lord Roberts! Bobs, old man, hi! hi!" Carnaby had but to say the

-words to make the little dog convulsive. He said them now, and the

-results seemed likely to be fatal to a dropsical animal so soon after

-a full meal.

-

-"You'll kill him!" whispered Robinette as they left the dining room.

-

-"I mean to!" was the calm reply. "I'd like to wring old Smeardon's

-neck too!" but the broad good humour of the rosy face, the twinkling

-eyes, belied these truculent words. In spite of infinite powers of

-mischief, there was not an ounce of vindictiveness in Carnaby de

-Tracy, though there might be other qualities difficult to deal with.

-

-"There's a man to be made there--or to be marred!" said Robinette to

-herself.

-

-

-

-

-IX

-

-POINTS OF VIEW

-

-

-Evenings at Stoke Revel were of a dullness all too deep to be sounded

-and too closely hedged in by tradition and observance to be evaded or

-shortened by the boldest visitor. Lavendar and the boy would have

-prolonged their respite in the smoking room had they dared, but in

-these later days Lavendar found he wished to be below on guard. The

-thought of Robinette alone between the two women downstairs made him

-uneasy. It was as though some bird of bright plumage had strayed into

-a barnyard to be pecked at by hens. Not but what he realised that this

-particular bird had a spirit of her own, and plenty of courage, but no

-man with even a prospective interest in a pretty woman, likes to think

-of the object of his admiration as thoroughly well able to look after

-herself. She must needs have a protector, and the heaven-sent one is

-himself.

-

-He had to take up arms in her defense on this, the first night of his

-arrival. Mrs. Loring had gone up to her room for some photographs of

-her house in America, and as she flitted through the door her scarf

-caught on the knob, and he had been obliged to extricate it. He had

-known her exactly four hours, and although he was unconscious of it,

-his heart was being pulled along the passage and up the stairway at

-the tail-end of that wisp of chiffon, while he listened to her

-retreating footsteps. Closing the door he came back to Mrs. de Tracy's

-side.

-

-"Her dress is indecorous for a widow," said that lady severely.

-

-"Oh, I don't see that," replied Lavendar. "She is in reality only a

-girl, and her widowhood has already lasted two years, you say."

-

-"Once a widow always a widow," returned Mrs. de Tracy sententiously,

-with a self-respecting glance at her own cap and the half-dozen dull

-jet ornaments she affected. Lavendar laughed outright, but she rather

-liked his laughter: it made her think herself witty. Once he had told

-her she was "delicious," and she had never forgotten it.

-

-"That's going pretty far, my dear lady," he replied. "Not all women

-are so faithful to a memory as you. I understand Americans don't wear

-weeds, and to me her blue cape is a delightful note in the landscape.

-Her dresses are conventional and proper, and I fancy she cannot

-express herself without a bit of colour."

-

-"The object of clothing, Mark, is to cover and to protect yourself,

-not to express yourself," said Mrs. de Tracy bitingly.

-

-"The thought of wearing anything bright always makes me shrink,"

-remarked Miss Smeardon, who had never apparently observed the tip of

-her own nose, "but some persons are less sensitive on these points

-than others."

-

-Mrs. de Tracy bowed an approving assent to this. "A widow's only

-concern should be to refrain from attracting notice," she said, as

-though quoting from a private book of proverbial philosophy soon to be

-published.

-

-"Then Mrs. Loring might as well have burned herself on her husband's

-funeral pyre, Hindoo fashion!" argued Lavendar. "A woman's life hasn't

-ended at two and twenty. It's hardly begun, and I fear the lady in

-question will arouse attention whatever she wears."

-

-"Would she be called attractive?" asked Mrs. de Tracy with surprise.

-

-"Oh, yes, without a doubt!"

-

-"In gentlemen's eyes, I suppose you mean?" said Miss Smeardon.

-

-"Yes, in gentlemen's eyes," answered Lavendar, firmly. "Those of women

-are apparently furnished with different lenses. But here comes the

-fair object of our discussion, so we must decide it later on."

-

-The question of ancestors, a favourite one at Stoke Revel, came up in

-the course of the next evening's conversation, and Lavendar found

-Robinette a trifle flushed but smiling under a double fire of

-questions from Mrs. de Tracy and her companion. Mrs. de Tracy was in

-her usual chair, knitting; Miss Smeardon sat by the table with a piece

-of fancy-work; Robinette had pulled a foot-stool to the hearthrug and

-sat as near the flames as she conveniently could. She shielded her

-face with the last copy of _Punch_, and let her shoulders bask in the

-warmth of the fire, which made flickering shadows on her creamy neck.

-Her white skirts swept softly round her feet, and her favourite

-turquoise scarf made a note of colour in her lap. She was one of those

-women who, without positive beauty, always make pictures of

-themselves.

-

-Lavendar analyzed her looks as he joined the circle, pretending to

-read. "She isn't posing," he thought, "but she ought to be painted.

-She ought always to be painted, each time one sees her, for

-everything about her suggests a portrait. That blue ribbon in her hair

-is fairly distracting! What the dickens is the reason one wants to

-look at her all the time! I've seen far handsomer women!"

-

-"Do you use Burke and Debrett in your country, Mrs. Loring?" Miss

-Smeardon was enquiring politely, as she laid down one red volume after

-the other, having ascertained the complete family tree of a lady who

-had called that afternoon.

-

-Robinette smiled. "I'm afraid we've nothing but telephone or business

-directories, social registers, and 'Who's Who,' in America," she

-said.

-

-"You are not interested in questions of genealogy, I suppose?" asked

-Mrs. de Tracy pityingly.

-

-"I can hardly say that. But I think perhaps that we are more occupied

-with the future than with the past."

-

-"That is natural," assented the lady of the Manor, "since you have so

-much more of it, haven't you? But the mixture of races in your

-country," she continued condescendingly, "must have made you

-indifferent to purity of strain."

-

-"I hope we are not wholly indifferent," said Robinette, as though she

-were stopping to consider. "I think every serious-minded person must

-be proud to inherit fine qualities and to pass them on. Surely it

-isn't enough to give _old_ blood to the next generation--it must be

-_good_ blood. Yes! the right stock certainly means something to an

-American."

-

-"But if you've nothing that answers to Burke and Debrett, I don't see

-how you can find out anybody's pedigree," objected Miss Smeardon. Then

-with an air of innocent curiosity and a glance supposed to be arch,

-"Are the Red Indians, the Negroes, and the Chinese in your so-called

-directories?"

-

-"As many of them as are in business, or have won their way to any

-position among men no doubt are there, I suppose," answered Robinette

-straightforwardly. "I think we just guess at people's ancestry by the

-way they look, act, and speak," she continued musingly. "You can

-'guess' quite well if you are clever at it. No Indians or Chinese ever

-dine with me, Miss Smeardon, though I'd rather like a peaceful Indian

-at dinner for a change; but I expect he'd find me very dull and

-uneventful!"

-

-"Dull!--that's a word I very often hear on American lips," broke in

-Lavendar as he looked over the top of Henry Newbolt's poems. "I

-believe being dull is thought a criminal offence in your country. Now,

-isn't there some danger involved in this fear of dullness?"

-

-"I shouldn't wonder," Robinette answered thoughtfully, looking into

-the fire. "Yes; I dare say there is, but I'm afraid there are social

-and mental dangers involved in _not_ being afraid of it, too!" Her

-mischievous eyes swept the room, with Mrs. de Tracy's solemn figure

-and Miss Smeardon's for its bright ornaments. "The moment a person or

-a nation allows itself to be too dull, it ceases to be quite alive,

-doesn't it? But as to us Americans, Mr. Lavendar, bear with us for a

-few years, we are so ridiculously young! It is our growing time, and

-what you want in a young plant is growth, isn't it?"

-

-"Y-yes," Lavendar replied: then with a twinkle in his blue eyes he

-added: "Only somehow we don't like to hear a plant grow! It should

-manage to perform the operation quite silently, showing not processes

-but results. That's a counsel of perfection, perhaps, but don't slay

-me for plain-speaking, Mrs. Loring!"

-

-Robinette laughed. "I'll never slay you for saying anything so wise

-and true as that!" she said, and Lavendar, flushing under her praise,

-was charmed with her good humour.

-

-"America's a very large country, is it not?" enquired Miss Smeardon

-with her usual brilliancy. "What is its area?"

-

-"Bigger than England, but not as big as the British Empire!" suggested

-Carnaby, feeling the conversation was drifting into his ken.

-

-"It's just the size of the moon, I've heard!" said Robinette

-teasingly. "Does that throw any light on the question?"

-

-"Moonlight!" laughed Carnaby, much pleased with his own wit. "Ha! ha!

-That's the first joke I've made this holidays. _Moonlight!_ Jolly

-good!"

-

-"If you'd take a joke a little more in your stride, my son," said

-Lavendar, "we should be more impressed by your mental sparkles."

-

-"Straighten the sofa-cushions, Carnaby," said his grandmother, "and

-don't lounge. I missed the point of your so-called joke entirely. As

-to the size of a country or anything else, I have never understood

-that it affected its quality. In fruit or vegetables, for instance, it

-generally means coarseness and indifferent flavour." Miss Smeardon

-beamed at this palpable hit, but Mrs. Loring deprived the situation of

-its point by backing up Mrs. de Tracy heartily. She had no opinion of

-mere size, either, she declared.

-

-"You don't stand up for your country half enough," objected Carnaby to

-his cousin. ("Why don't you give the old cat beans?" was his

-supplement, _sotto voce_.)

-

-"Just attack some of my pet theories and convictions, Middy dear, if

-you wish to see me in a rage," said Robinette lightly, "but my motto

-will never be 'My country right or wrong.'"

-

-"Nor mine," agreed Lavendar. "I'm heartily with you there."

-

-"It's a great venture we're trying in America. I wish every one would

-try to look at it in that light," said Robinette with a slight flush

-of earnestness.

-

-"What do you mean by a venture?" asked Mrs. de Tracy.

-

-"The experiment we're making in democracy," answered Robinette. "It's

-fallen to us to try it, for of course it simply had to be tried. It

-is thrillingly interesting, whatever it may turn out, and I wish I

-might live to see the end of it. We are creating a race, Aunt de

-Tracy; think of that!"

-

-"It's as difficult for nations as for individuals to hit the happy

-medium," said Lavendar, stirring the fire. "Enterprise carried too far

-becomes vulgar hustling, while stability and conservatism often pass

-the coveted point of repose and degenerate into torpor."

-

-"This part of England seems to me singularly free from faults,"

-interposed Mrs. de Tracy in didactic tones. "We have a wonderful

-climate; more sunshine than in any part of the island, I believe. Our

-local society is singularly free from scandal. The clergy, if not

-quite as eloquent or profound as in London (and in my opinion it is

-the better for being neither) is strictly conscientious. We have no

-burglars or locusts or gnats or even midges, as I'm told they

-unfortunately have in Scotland, and our dinner-parties, though quiet

-and dignified, are never dull.... What is the matter, Robinetta?"

-

-"A sudden catch in my throat," said Robinette, struggling with some

-sort of vocal difficulty and avoiding Lavendar's eye. "Thank you," as

-he offered her a glass of water from the punctual and strictly

-temperate evening tray. "Don't look at me," she added under her

-voice.

-

-"Not for a million of money!" he whispered. Then he said aloud: "If I

-ever stand for Parliament, Mrs. Loring, I should like you to help me

-with my constituency!"

-

-The unruffled temper and sweet reasonableness of Robinette's answers

-to questions by no means always devoid of malice, had struck the young

-man very much, as he listened.

-

-"She is good!" he thought to himself. "Good and sweet and generous.

-Her loveliness is not only in her face; it is in her heart." And some

-favorite lines began to run in his head that night, with new

-conviction:--

-

-                 He that loves a rosy cheek,

-                   Or a coral lip admires,

-                 Or from star-like eyes doth seek

-                   Fuel to maintain his fires,--

-                 As old Time makes these decay,

-                   So his flames will waste away.

-

-                 But a smooth and steadfast mind,

-                   Gentle thoughts and calm desires,

-                 Hearts with equal love combined--

-

-but here Lavendar broke off with a laugh.

-

-"It's not come to that yet!" he thought. "I wonder if it ever will?"

-

-

-

-

-X

-

-A NEW KINSMAN

-

-

-Young Mrs. Loring was making her way slowly at Stoke Revel Manor, and

-Mrs. de Tracy, though never affectionate, treated her with a little

-less indifference as the days went on. "The Admiral's niece is a

-lady," she admitted to herself privately; "not perhaps the highest

-type of English lady; that, considering her mixed ancestry and

-American education, would be too much to expect; but in the broad,

-general meaning of the word, unmistakably a lady!"

-

-Mrs. Benson, though not melting outwardly as yet, held more lenient

-views still with regard to the American guest. Bates, the butler, was

-elderly, and severely Church of England; his knowledge of widows was

-confined to the type ably represented by his mistress and he regarded

-young Mrs. Loring as inclined to be "flighty." The footman, who was

-entirely under the butler's thumb in mundane matters, had fallen into

-the habit of sharing his opinions, and while agreeing in the general

-feeling of flightiness, declared boldly that the lady in question gave

-a certain "style" to the dinner-table that it had lacked before her

-advent.

-

-For a helpless victim, however, a slave bound in fetters of steel, one

-would have to know Cummins, the under housemaid, who lighted Mrs.

-Loring's fire night and morning. She was young, shy, country bred, and

-new to service. When Mrs. Benson sent her to the guest's room at eight

-o'clock on the morning after her arrival she stopped outside the door

-in a panic of fear.

-

-"Come in!" called a cheerful voice. "Come in!"

-

-Cummins entered, bearing her box with brush and cloth and kindlings.

-To her further embarrassment Mrs. Loring was sitting up in bed with an

-ermine coat on, over which her bright hair fell in picturesque

-disorder. She had brought the coat for theatre and opera, but as these

-attractions were lacking at Stoke Revel and as life there was, to her,

-one prolonged Polar expedition, with dashes farthest north morning and

-evening, she had diverted it to practical uses.

-

-"Make me a quick fire please, a big fire, a hot fire," she begged, "or

-I shall be late for breakfast; I never can step into that tin tub till

-the ice is melted."

-

-"There's no ice in it, ma'am," expostulated Cummins gently, with the

-voice of a wood dove.

-

-"You can't see it because you're English," said the strange lady, "but

-I can see it and feel it. Oh, you make _such_ a good fire! What is

-your name, please?"

-

-"Cummins, ma'am."

-

-"There's another Cummins downstairs, but she is tall and large. You

-shall be 'Little Cummins.'"

-

-Now every morning the shy maid palpitated outside the bedroom door,

-having given her modest knock; palpitated for fear it should be all a

-dream. But no, it was not! there would be a clear-voiced "Come in!"

-and then, as she entered; "Good morning, Little Cummins. I've been

-longing for you since daybreak!" A trifle later on it was, "Good

-Little Cummins bearing coals of comfort! Kind Little Cummins," and

-other strange and wonderful terms of praise, until Little Cummins felt

-herself consumed by a passion to which Mrs. de Tracy's coals became as

-less than naught unless they could be heaped on the altar of the

-beloved.

-

-So life went on at Stoke Revel, outwardly even and often dull, while

-in reality many subtle changes were taking place below the surface;

-changes slight in themselves but not without meaning.

-

-Robinette ran up to her room directly after breakfast one morning and

-pinned on her hat as she came downstairs. Mark Lavendar had gone to

-London for a few days, but even the dullness of breakfast-table

-conversation had not robbed her of her joy in the early sunshine, made

-more cheery by the prospect of a walk with Carnaby, with whom she was

-now fast friends.

-

-Carnaby looked at her beamingly as they stood together on the steps.

-"You're the best turned-out woman of my acquaintance," he said

-approvingly, with a laughable struggle for the tone of a middle-aged

-man of the world.

-

-"How many ladies of fashion do you know, my child?" enquired

-Robinetta, pulling on her gloves.

-

-"I see a lot of 'em off and on," Carnaby answered somewhat huffily,

-"and they don't call me a child either!"

-

-"Don't they? Then that's because they're timid and don't dare address

-a future Admiral as Infant-in-Arms! Come on, Middy dear, let's walk."

-

-Robinette wore a white serge dress and jacket, and her hat was a rough

-straw turned up saucily in two places with black owls' heads. Mrs.

-Benson and Little Cummins had looked at it curiously while Robinette

-was at breakfast.

-

-"'Tis black underneath and white on top, Mrs. Benson. 'Ow can that be?

-It looks as if one 'at 'ad been clapped on another!"

-

-"That's what it is, Cummins. It's a double hat; but they'll do

-anything in America. It's a double hat with two black owls' heads, and

-I'll wager they charged double price for it!"

-

-"She's a lovely beauty in anythink and everythink she wears," said

-Little Cummins loyally.

-

-"May I call you 'Cousin Robin'?" Carnaby asked as they walked along.

-"Robinette is such a long name."

-

-"Cousin Robin is very nice, I think," she answered. "As a matter

-of fact I ought to be your Aunt Robin; it would be much more

-appropriate."

-

-"Aunt be blowed!" ejaculated Carnaby.

-

-"You're very fond of making yourself out old, but it's no go! When I

-first heard you were a widow I thought you would be grandmother's

-age,--I say--do you think you will marry another time, Cousin Robin?"

-

-"That's a very leading question for a gentleman to put to a lady! Were

-you intending to ask me to wait for you, Middy dear?" asked Robinette,

-putting her arm in the boy's laughingly, quite unconscious of his

-mood.

-

-"I'd wait quick enough if you'd let me! I'd wait a lifetime! There

-never was anybody like you in the world!"

-

-The words were said half under the boy's breath and the emotion in his

-tone was a complete and disagreeable surprise. Here was something that

-must be nipped in the bud, instantly and courageously. Robinette

-dropped Carnaby's arm and said: "We'll talk that over at once, Middy

-dear, but first you shall race me to the top of the twisting path,

-down past the tulip beds, to the seat under the big ash tree.--Come

-on!"

-

-The two reached the tree in a moment, Carnaby sufficiently in advance

-to preserve his self-respect and with a colour heightened by something

-other than the exercise of running.

-

-"Sit down, first cousin once removed!" said Robinette. "Do you know

-the story of Sydney Smith, who wrote apologizing to somebody for not

-being able to come to dinner? 'The house is full of cousins,' he said;

-'would they were "once removed"!'"

-

-"It's no good telling me literary anecdotes!--You're not treating me

-fairly," said Carnaby sulkily.

-

-"I'm treating you exactly as you should be treated, Infant-in-Arms,"

-Robinette answered firmly. "Give me your two paws, and look me

-straight in the eye."

-

-Carnaby was no coward. His steel-grey eyes blazed as he met his

-cousin's look. "Carnaby dear, do you know what you are to me? You are

-my kinsman; my only male relation. I'm so fond of you already, don't

-spoil it! Think what you can be to me if you will. I am all alone in

-the world and when you grow a little older how I should like to depend

-upon you! I need affection; so do you, dear boy; can't I see how you

-are just starving for it? There is no reason in the world why we

-shouldn't be fond of each other! Oh! how grateful I should be to think

-of a strong young middy growing up to advise me and take me about! It

-was that kind of care and thought of me that was in your mind just

-now!"

-

-"You'll be marrying somebody one of these days," blurted Carnaby,

-wholly moved, but only half convinced. "Then you'll forget all about

-your 'kinsman.'"

-

-"I have no intention in that direction," said Robinette, "but if I

-change my mind I'll consult you first; how will that do?"

-

-"It wouldn't do any good," sighed the boy, "so I'd rather you

-wouldn't! You'd have your own way spite of everything a fellow could

-say against it!"

-

-There was a moment of embarrassment; then the silence was promptly

-broken by Robinette.

-

-"Well, Middy dear, are we the best of friends?" she asked, rising from

-the bench and putting out her hand.

-

-The lad took it and said all in a glow of chivalry, "You're the

-dearest, the best, and the prettiest cousin in the world! You don't

-mind my thinking you're the prettiest?"

-

-"Mind it? I delight in it! I shall come to your ship and pour out tea

-for you in my most fetching frock. Your friends will say: 'Who is that

-particularly agreeable lady, Carnaby?' And you, with swelling chest,

-will respond, 'That's my American cousin, Mrs. Loring. She's a nice

-creature; I'm glad you like her!'"

-

-Robinette's imitation of Carnaby's possible pomposity was so amusing

-and so clever that it drew a laugh from the boy in spite of himself.

-

-"Just let anyone try to call you a 'creature'!" he exclaimed. "He'd

-have me to reckon with! Oh! I am so tired of being a boy! The inside

-of me is all grown up and everybody keeps on looking at the outside

-and thinking I'm just the same as I always was!"

-

-"Dear old Middy, you're quite old enough to be my protector and that

-is what you shall be! Now shall we go in? I want you to stand near by

-while I ask your grandmother a favor."

-

-"She won't do it if she can help it," was Carnaby's succinct reply.

-

-"Oh, I am not sure! Where shall we find her,--in the library?"

-

-"Yes; come along! Get up your circulation; you'll need it!"

-

-"Aunt de Tracy, there is something at Stoke Revel I am very anxious to

-have if you will give it to me," said Robinette, as she came into the

-library a few minutes later.

-

-Mrs. de Tracy looked up from her knitting solemnly. "If it belongs to

-me, I shall no doubt be willing, as I know you would not ask for

-anything out of the common; but I own little here; nearly all is

-Carnaby's."

-

-"This was my mother's," said Robinette. "It is a picture hanging in

-the smoking room; one that was a great favorite of hers, called

-'Robinetta.' Her drawing-master found an Italian artist in London who

-went to the National Gallery and made a copy of the Sir Joshua

-picture, and I was named after it."

-

-"I wish your mother could have been a little less romantic," sighed

-Mrs. de Tracy. "There were such fine old family names she might have

-used: Marcia and Elspeth, and Rosamond and Winifred!"

-

-"I am sorry, Aunt de Tracy. If I had been consulted I believe I should

-have agreed with you. Perhaps when my mother was in America the family

-ties were not drawn as tightly as in the former years?"

-

-"If it was so, it was only natural," said the old lady. "However, if

-you ask Carnaby, and if the picture has no great value, I am sure he

-will wish you to have it, especially if you know it to have been your

-mother's property." Here Carnaby sauntered into the room. "That's all

-right, grandmother," he said, "I heard what you were saying; only I

-wish it was a real Sir Joshua we were giving Cousin Robin instead of a

-copy!"

-

-"Thank you, Carnaby dear, and thank you, too, Aunt de Tracy. You can't

-think how much it is to me to have this; it is a precious link between

-mother's girlhood, and mother, and me." So saying, she dropped a timid

-kiss upon Mrs. de Tracy's iron-grey hair, and left the room.

-

-"If she could live in England long enough to get over that excessive

-freedom of manner, your cousin would be quite a pleasing person, but I

-am afraid it goes too deep to be cured," Mrs. de Tracy remarked as she

-smoothed the hairs that might have been ruffled by Robinette's kiss.

-

-Carnaby made no reply. He was looking out into the garden and feeling

-half a boy, half a man, but wholly, though not very contentedly, a

-kinsman.

-

-

-

-

-XI

-

-THE SANDS AT WESTON

-

-

-"Thursday morning? Is it possible that this is Thursday morning? And I

-must run up to London on Saturday," said Lavendar to himself as he

-finished dressing by the open window. He looked up the day of the week

-in his calendar first, in order to make quite sure of the fact. Yes,

-there was no doubt at all that it was Thursday. His sense of time must

-have suffered some strange confusion; in one way it seemed only an

-hour ago that he had arrived from the clangour and darkness of London

-to the silence of the country, the cuckoos calling across the river

-between the wooded hills, and the April sunshine on the orchard trees;

-in another, years might have passed since the moment when he first saw

-Robinette Loring sitting under Mrs. Prettyman's plum tree.

-

-"Eight days have we spent together in this house, and yet since that

-time when we first crossed in the boat, I've never been more than half

-an hour alone with her," he thought. "There are only three other

-people in the house after all, but they seem to have the power of

-multiplying themselves like the loaves and fishes (only when they're

-not wanted) so that we're eternally in a crowd. That boy particularly!

-I like Carnaby, if he could get it into his thick head that his

-presence isn't always necessary; it must bother Mrs. Loring too; he's

-quite off his head about her if she only knew it. However, it's my

-last day very likely, and if I have to outwit Machiavelli I'll manage

-it somehow! Surely one lame old woman, and a torpid machine for

-knitting and writing notes like Miss Smeardon, can't want to be out of

-doors all day. Hang that boy, though! He'll come anywhere." Here he

-stopped and sat down suddenly at the dressing-table, covering his face

-with his hands in comic despair. "Mrs. Loring can't like it! She must

-be doing it on purpose, avoiding being alone with me because she sees

-I admire her," he sighed. "After all why should I ever suppose that I

-interest her as much as she does me?"

-

-No one could have told from Lavendar's face, when he appeared fresh

-and smiling at the breakfast table half an hour later, that he was

-hatching any deep-laid schemes.

-

-Robinette entered the dining room five minutes late, as usual, pretty

-as a pink, breathless with hurrying. She wore a white dress again,

-with one rose stuck at her waistband, "A little tribute from the

-gardener," she said, as she noticed Lavendar glance at it. She went

-rapidly around the table shaking hands, and gave Carnaby's red cheeks

-a pinch in passing that made Lavendar long to tweak the boy's ear.

-

-"Good morning, all!" she said cheerily, "and how is my first cousin

-once removed? Is he going to Weston with me this morning to buy

-hairpins?"

-

-"He is!" Carnaby answered joyfully, between mouthfuls of bacon and

-eggs. "He has been out of hairpins for a week."

-

-"Does he need tapes and buttons also?" asked Robinette, taking the

-piece of muffin from his hand and buttering it for herself; an act

-highly disapproved of by Mrs. de Tracy, who hurriedly requested Bates

-to pass the bread.

-

-"He needs everything you need," Carnaby said with heightened colour.

-

-"My hair is giving me a good deal of trouble, lately," remarked

-Lavendar, passing his hand over a thickly thatched head.

-

-"I have an excellent American tonic that I will give you after

-breakfast," said Robinette roguishly. "You need to apply it with a

-brush at ten, eleven, and twelve o'clock, sitting in the sun

-continuously between those hours so that the scalp may be well

-invigorated. Carnaby, will you buy me butter scotch and lemonade and

-oranges in Weston?"

-

-"I will, if Grandmother'll increase my allowance," said Carnaby

-malevolently, "for I need every penny I've got in hand for the

-hairpins."

-

-"I hope you are not hungry, Robinetta," said Mrs. de Tracy, "that you

-have to buy food in Weston."

-

-"No, indeed," said Robinette, "I was only longing to test Carnaby's

-generosity and educate him in buying trifles for pretty ladies."

-

-"He can probably be relied on to educate himself in that line when the

-time comes," Mrs. de Tracy remarked; "and now if you have all finished

-talking about hair, I will take up my breakfast again."

-

-"Oh, Aunt de Tracy, I am so sorry if it wasn't a nice subject, but I

-never thought. Anyway I only talked about hairpins; it was Mr.

-Lavendar who introduced hair into the conversation; wasn't it, Middy

-dear?"

-

-Lavendar thought he could have annihilated them both for their open

-comradeship, their obvious delight in each other's society. Was he to

-be put on the shelf like a dry old bachelor? Not he! He would

-circumvent them in some way or another, although the rôle of

-gooseberry was new to him.

-

-The two young people set off in high spirits, and Mrs. de Tracy and

-Miss Smeardon watched them as they walked down the avenue on their way

-to the station, their clasped hands swinging in a merry rhythm as they

-hummed a bit of the last popular song.

-

-"I hope Robinetta will not Americanize Carnaby," said Mrs. de Tracy.

-"He seems so foolishly elated, so feverishly gay all at once. Her

-manner is too informal; Carnaby requires constant repression."

-

-"Perhaps his temperature has not returned to normal since his attack

-of quinsy," Miss Smeardon observed, reassuringly.

-

-Meanwhile Lavendar sat in Admiral de Tracy's old smoking room for half

-an hour writing letters. Every time that he glanced up from his work,

-and he did so pretty often, his eyes fell on a picture that hung upon

-the opposite wall. It was the copy of Sir Joshua's "Robinetta" made

-long ago and just presented to its namesake.

-

-In the portrait the girl's hair was a still brighter gold; yet

-certainly there was a likeness somewhere about it, he thought; partly

-in the expression, partly in the broad low forehead, and the eyes that

-looked as if they were seeing fairies.

-

-Of course to his mind Mrs. Loring was a hundred times more lovely than

-Sir Joshua's famous girl with a robin. He felt very ill-used because

-Robinette and Carnaby had deliberately gone for an excursion without

-him and had left him toiling over business papers when they had gone

-off to enjoy themselves.

-

-How bright it was out there in the sunshine, to be sure! And why

-should it be Carnaby, not he, who was by this time walking along the

-sea front of Weston, and watching the breeze flutter Robinette's scarf

-and bring a brighter colour to her lips?

-

-There! the last words were written, and taking up his bunch of

-letters, watch in hand, he sought Mrs. de Tracy, and explained that he

-would bicycle to Weston and catch the London post himself.

-

-"I'll send William"--she began; but Lavendar hastily assured her that

-he should enjoy the ride, and hurried off in triumph. Miss Smeardon

-smiled an acid smile as she watched him go. "He has forgotten all

-about poor Miss Meredith, I suppose," she murmured. "Yet it was not so

-long ago that they were supposed to be all in all to each other!"

-

-"It was a foolish engagement, Miss Smeardon," said Mrs. de Tracy in a

-cold voice. "I never thought the girl was suited to Mark, and I

-understand that old Mr. Lavendar was relieved when the whole thing

-came to an end."

-

-"Quite so; certainly; no doubt Miss Meredith would never have made him

-happy," said Miss Smeardon at once, "though it is always more

-agreeable when the lady discovers the fact first. In this case she

-confessed openly that Mr. Lavendar broke her heart with his

-indifference."

-

-"She was an ill-bred young woman," said Mrs. de Tracy, as if the

-subject were now closed. "However, I hope that the son of my family

-solicitor would think it only proper to pay a certain amount of

-attention to the Admiral's niece, were she ever so obnoxious to him."

-

-Miss Smeardon made no audible reply, but her thoughts were to the

-effect that never was an obnoxious duty performed by any man with a

-better grace.

-

-The sea front at Weston was the most prosaic scene in the world, a

-long esplanade with an asphalt path running its full length, and ugly

-jerrybuilt houses glaring out upon it, a gimcrack pier with a

-gingerbread sort of band-stand and glass house at the end;--all that

-could have been done to ruin nature had been determinedly done there.

-But you cannot ruin a spring day, nor youth, nor the colour of the

-sea. Along the level shore, the placid waves swept and broke, and then

-gathered up their white skirts, and retreated to return with the same

-musical laugh. Children and dogs played about on the wet sands. The

-wind blew freshly and the sea stretched all one pure blue, till it met

-on the horizon with the bluer skies.

-

-Weston seemed to Lavendar a very fresh and delightful spot at

-that moment, although had he been in a different mood its sordidness

-only would have struck him. Yes, there they were in the distance;

-he knew Robinette's white dress and the figure of the boy beside

-her. Hang that boy! Were they really going to buy hairpins? If

-so, then a hair-dresser's he must find. Lavendar turned up the

-little street that led from the sea-front, scanning all the

-signs--Boots--Dairies--Vegetable shops--Heavens! were there

-nothing but vegetable and boot shops in Weston? Boots again. At last

-a Hairdresser; Lavendar stood in the doorway until he made sure

-that Robinette and the middy had turned in that direction, and

-then he boldly entered the shop.

-

-To his horror he found himself confronted by a smiling young woman,

-whose own very marvellous erection of hair made him think she must be

-used as an advertisement for the goods she supplied.

-

-In another moment Robinette and the boy would be upon him, and he must

-be found deep in fictitious business. He cast one agonized glance at

-the mysteries of the toilet that surrounded him on every side, then

-clearing his throat, he said modestly but firmly, that he wanted to

-buy a pair of curling tongs for a lady.

-

-"These are the thing if you wish a Marcel wave," was the reply, "but

-just for an ordinary crimp we sell a good many of the plain ones."

-

-"Yes, thank you. They will do; the lady--my sister, also wished--"

-

-"A little 'addition,' was it, sir?" she moved smilingly to a drawer.

-"A few pin curls are very easily adjusted, or would our guinea

-switch--"

-

-At this moment the boy and Robinette entered the shop. Lavendar was

-paying for the curling tongs, and not a muscle of his face relaxed.

-"Oh, here you are. I have just finished my business," he said, turning

-round, "I thought we might encounter one another somewhere!"

-

-Robinette and Carnaby exchanged knowing glances of which Lavendar was

-perfectly conscious, but he stood by while Mrs. Loring bought her

-hairpins, and Carnaby endeavoured to persuade her to invest in a few

-"pin curls." "Not an hour before it is absolutely necessary, Middy

-dear," she said; "then I shall bear it as bravely as I can. Come now,

-carry the hairpins for me, and let me take Mr. Lavendar out of this

-shop, or he will be tempted to buy more than he needs."

-

-"Oh, no!" Lavendar remarked pointedly. "I have what I came for!"

-

-"Don't forget your parcel," Carnaby exclaimed, darting after Lavendar

-as they went into the street. "You've left it on the counter."

-

-"How careless!" said Mark. "It was for my sister."

-

-"You never told me you had a sister," said Robinette, as they walked

-together, Lavendar wheeling his bicycle and Carnaby sulking behind

-them.

-

-"I am blessed with two; one married now; the other, my sister Amy,

-lives at home."

-

-"Well, you see, in spite of all our questions the first time we met,

-we really know very little about each other," she went on lightly. "It

-takes such a long time to get thoroughly acquainted in this country.

-Do they ever count you a friend if you do not know all their aunts and

-second cousins?"

-

-Lavendar laughed. "Willingly would I introduce you to my aunts and my

-uttermost cousins, and lay the map of my life before you, uneventful

-as it has been, if that would further our acquaintance."

-

-Even as he spoke a hateful memory darted into his thoughts, and he

-reddened to his temples, until Mrs. Loring wondered if she had said

-anything to annoy him.

-

-Some fortunate accident at this point ordered that Carnaby should

-meet a friend, another middy about his own age, and they set off

-together in quest of a third boy who was supposed to be in the near

-neighbourhood.

-

-As soon as the lads were out of sight Lavendar found the jests they

-had been bandying together die on his lips. "I'm going down deeper; I

-shall be out of my depth very soon," he thought to himself, as he

-walked in silence by Robinette's side.

-

-"Let us come down to the beach again; we can't go to the station for

-half an hour yet," she said. "I like to look out to sea, and realize

-that if I sailed long enough I could step off that pier, and arrive in

-America."

-

-They stood by the sea-wall together with the fresh wind playing on

-their faces. "Isn't it curious," said Robinette, "how instinctively

-one always turns to look at the sea; inland may be ever so lovely, but

-if the sea is there we generally look in that direction."

-

-"Because it is unbounded, like the future," said Lavendar. He was

-looking as he spoke at some children playing on the sands just

-beside them. There was a gallant little boy among them with a bare

-curly head, who refused help from older sisters and was toiling away

-at his sand castle, his whole soul in his work; throwing up

-spadefuls--tremendous ones for four years old--upon its ramparts,

-as if certain they could resist the advancing tide.

-

-"What a noble little fellow!" exclaimed Robinette, catching the

-direction of Lavendar's glance. "Isn't he splendid? toiling like that;

-stumping about on those fat brown legs!"

-

-"How beautiful to have a child like that, of one's own!" thought

-Lavendar as he looked. On the sands around them, there were numbers of

-such children playing there in the sun. It seemed a happy world to him

-at the moment.

-

-Suddenly he saw his companion turn quickly aside; a nurse in uniform

-came towards them pushing, not a happy crooning baby this time, but a

-little emaciated wisp of a child lying back wearily in a wheel chair.

-Something in Robinette's face, or perhaps the bit of fluttering lace

-she wore upon her white dress, had attracted its notice, and it

-stretched out two tiny skeleton hands towards her as it passed. With a

-quick gesture, brushing tears away that in a moment had rushed to her

-eyes, young Mrs. Loring stepped forward, and put her fingers into the

-wasted hands that were held out to her. She hung above the child for a

-moment, a radiant figure, her face shining with sympathy and a sort of

-heavenly kindness; her eyes the sweeter for their tears.

-

-"What is it, darling?" she asked. "Oh, it's the bright rose!" Then she

-hurriedly unfastened the flower from her waist-belt and turned to

-Lavendar. "Will you please take your penknife and scrape away all the

-little thorns," she asked.

-

-"The rose looked very charming where it was," he remarked, half

-regretfully, as he did what she commanded.

-

-"It will look better still, presently," she answered.

-

-The child's hands were outstretched longingly to grasp the flower, its

-eyes, unnaturally deep and wise with pain, were fixed upon Robinette's

-face. She bent over the chair, and her voice was like a dove's voice,

-Lavendar thought, as she spoke. Then the little melancholy carriage

-was wheeled away. Motherhood always seemed the most sacred, the

-supreme experience to Robinette; a thing high and beautiful like the

-topmost blooms of Nurse Prettyman's plum tree. "If one had to choose

-between that sturdy boy and this wistful wraith, it would be hard,"

-she thought. "All my pride would run out to the boy, but I could die

-for love and pity if this suffering baby were mine!"

-

-Lavendar had turned, and leaned on the wall with averted face. "Sweet

-woman!" he was saying to himself. "It is more than a merry heart that

-is able to give such sympathy; it's a sad old world after all where

-such things can be; but a woman like that can bring good out of

-evil."

-

-Robinette had seated herself on a low wall beside him. Her little

-embroidered futility of a handkerchief was in her hand once more. "A

-rose and a smile! that's all we could give it," she said; "and we

-would either of us share some of that burden if we only could." She

-watched the merry, healthy children playing beside them, and added,

-"After all let us comfort ourselves that brown cheeks and fat legs are

-in the majority. Rightness somehow or other must be at the root of

-things, or we shouldn't be a living world at all."

-

-"Amen," said Lavendar, "but the sight of suffering innocents like

-that, sometimes makes me wish I were dead."

-

-"Dead!" she echoed. "Why, it makes me wish for a hundred lives, a

-hundred hearts and hands to feel with and help with."

-

-"Ah, some women are made that way. My stepmother, the only mother I've

-known, was like that," Lavendar went on, dropping suddenly again into

-personal talk, as they had done before. He and she, it seemed, could

-not keep barriers between them very long; every hour they spent

-together brought them more strangely into knowledge of each other's

-past.

-

-"She was a fine woman," he went on, "with a certain comfortable

-breadth about her, of mind and body; and those large, warm, capable

-hands that seem so fitted to lift burdens."

-

-Lavendar was in an absent-minded mood, and never much given to noting

-details at any time. He bent over on the low wall in retrospective

-silence, looking at the blue sea before them.

-

-Robinette, who was perched beside him, spread her two small hands on

-her white serge knees and regarded them fixedly for a moment.

-

-"I wonder if it's a matter of size," she said after a moment. "I

-wonder! Let's be confidential. When I was a little girl we were not at

-all well-to-do, and my hands were very busy. My father's success came

-to him only two or three years before his death, when his reputation

-began to grow and his plans for great public buildings began to be

-accepted, so I was my mother's helper. We had but one servant, and I

-learned to make beds, to dust, to wipe dishes, to make tea and coffee,

-and to cook simple dishes. If Admiral de Tracy's sister had to work,

-Admiral de Tracy's niece was certainly going to help! Later on came my

-father's illness and death. We had plenty of servants then, but my

-hands had learned to be busy. I gave him his medicines, I changed his

-pillows, I opened his letters and answered such of them as were within

-my powers, I fanned him, I stroked his aching head. The end came, and

-mother and I had hardly begun to take hold of life again when her

-health failed. I wasn't enough for her; she needed father and her face

-was bent towards him. My hands were busy again for months, and they

-held my mother's when she died. Time went on. Then I began again to

-make a home out of a house; to use my strength and time as a good wife

-should, for the comfort of her husband; but oh! so faultily, for I was

-all too young and inexperienced. It was only for a few months, then

-death came into my life for the third time, and I was less than

-twenty. For the first time since I can remember, my hands are idle,

-but it will not be for long. I want them to be busy always. I want

-them to be full! I want them to be tired! I want them ready to do the

-tasks my head and heart suggest."

-

-Lavendar had a strong desire to take those same hands in his and kiss

-them, but instead he rose and spread out his own long brown fingers on

-the edge of the wall, a man's hands, fine and supple, but meant to

-work.

-

-"I seem to have done nothing," he exclaimed. "You look so young, so

-irresponsible, so like a bird on a bough, that I cannot associate dull

-care with you, yet you have lived more deeply than I. Life seems to

-have touched me on the shoulder and passed me by; these hands of mine

-have never done a real day's work, Mrs. Loring, for they've been the

-servants of an unwilling brain. I hated my own work as a younger man,

-and, though I hope I did not shirk it, I certainly did nothing that I

-could avoid." He paused, and went on slowly, "I've thought sometimes,

-of late I mean, that if life is to be worth much, if it is to be real

-life, and not mere existence, one must put one's whole heart into it,

-and that two people--" He stopped; he was silent with embarrassment,

-conscious of having said too much.

-

-"Can help each other. Indeed they can," Mrs. Loring went on serenely,

-"if they have the same ideals. Hardly anyone, fortunately, is so alone

-as I, and so I have to help myself! Your sisters, now; don't they

-help?"

-

-"Not a great deal," Lavendar confessed. "One would, but she's married

-and in India, worse luck! The other is--well, she's a candid sister."

-He laughed, and looked up. "If my best friend could hear my sister

-Amy's view of me, just have a little sketch of me by Amy without fear

-or favour, he, or she, would never have a very high opinion of me

-again, and I am not sure but that I should agree with her."

-

-"Nonsense! my dear friend," exclaimed Robinette in a maternal tone she

-sometimes affected,--a tone fairly agonizing to Mark Lavendar; "we

-should never belittle the stuff that's been put into us! My equipment

-isn't particularly large, but I am going to squeeze every ounce of

-power from it before I die."

-

-"Life is extraordinarily interesting to you, isn't it?"

-

-"Interesting? It is thrilling! So will it be to you when you make up

-your mind to squeeze it," said Robinette, jumping off the wall. "There

-is Carnaby signalling; it is time we went to the station."

-

-"Life would thrill me considerably more if Carnaby were not eternally

-in evidence," said Lavendar, but Robinette pretended not to hear.

-

-

-

-

-XII

-

-LOVE IN THE MUD

-

-

-The next day Robinette was once more sitting in the boat opposite to

-Lavendar as he rowed. They were going down the river this time, not

-across it. Somehow they had managed that afternoon to get out by

-themselves, which sounds very simple, but is a wonderfully difficult

-thing to accomplish when there is no special reason for it, and when

-there are several other people in the house.

-

-Fortunately Mrs. de Tracy did not like to be alone, so that wherever

-she went Miss Smeardon had to go too, and there happened to be a sale

-of work at a neighbouring vicarage that afternoon where she considered

-her presence a necessity. Robinette had vanished soon after luncheon

-and the middy had been dull, so after loitering around for a while, he

-too had disappeared upon some errand of his own. Lavendar walked very

-slowly toward the avenue gateway, then he turned and came back. He

-could scarcely believe his good fortune when he saw Mrs. Loring come

-out of the house, and pause at the door as if uncertain of her next

-movements. She looked uncommonly lovely in a white frock with touches

-of blue, while the ribbon in her hair brought out all its gold. She

-wore a flowery garden hat, and a pair of dainty most un-English shoes

-peeped from beneath her short skirt.

-

-"Are you going out, or can I take you on the river?" Lavendar asked,

-trying without much success to conceal the eagerness that showed in

-his voice and eyes.

-

-Robinette stood for a moment looking at him (it seemed as if she read

-him like a book) and then she said frankly, "Why yes, there is nothing

-I should like so much, but where is Carnaby?"

-

-"Hang Carnaby! I mean I don't know, or care. I've had too much of his

-society to-day to be pining for it now."

-

-"Well, he does chatter like a magpie, but I feel he must have such a

-dull time here with no one anywhere near his own age. Elderly as I am,

-I seem a bit nearer than Aunt de Tracy or Miss Smeardon. Aunt de

-Tracy, all the same, will never understand my relations with that boy,

-or with anyone else for that matter. I did try so hard," she went on,

-"when I first arrived, just to strike the right note with her, and

-I've missed it all the time, by that very fact, no doubt. I'm so

-unused to trying--at home."

-

-"You mean in America?"

-

-"Yes, of course; I don't try there at all, and yet my friends seem to

-understand me."

-

-"Does it seem to you that you could ever call England 'home'?"

-

-"I could not have believed that England would so sink into my heart,"

-she said, sitting down in the doorway and arranging the flowers on her

-hat. "During those first dull wet days when I was still a stranger,

-and when I looked out all the time at the dripping cedars, and felt

-whenever I opened my lips that I said the wrong thing, it seemed to me

-I should never be gay for an hour in this country; but the last

-enchanting sunny days have changed all that. I remember it's my

-mother's country, and if only I could have found a little affection

-waiting for me, all would have been perfect."

-

-"You may find it yet." Lavendar could not for the life of him help

-saying the words, but there was nothing in the tone in which he said

-them to make Robinette conscious of his meaning.

-

-"I'm afraid not," she sighed, thinking of Mrs. de Tracy's indifference.

-"I'm much more American than English, much more my father's daughter

-than the Admiral's niece; perhaps my aunt feels that instinctively. Now

-I must slip upstairs and change if we are going boating."

-

-"Never!" cried Lavendar. "If I don't snatch you this moment from the

-devouring crowd I shall lose you! I will keep you safe and dry, never

-fear, and we shall be back well before dark."

-

-They went down the river after leaving the little pier, passing the

-orchards heaped on the hillsides above Wittisham, and Lavendar wanted

-to row out to sea, but Robinette preferred the river; so he rowed

-nearer to the shore, where the current was less swift, and the boat

-rocked and drifted with scarcely a touch of the oars. They had talked

-for some time, and then a silence had fallen, which Robinette broke by

-saying, "I half wish you'd forsake the law and follow lines of lesser

-resistance, Mr. Lavendar. Do you know, you seem to me to be drifting,

-not rowing! I've been thinking ever since of what you said to me on

-the sands at Weston."

-

-"Ungrateful woman!" he exclaimed, trying to evade the subject, "when

-these two faithful arms have been at your service every day since we

-first met! Think of the pennies you would have taken from that tiny

-gold purse of yours for the public ferry! However, I know what you

-mean; I never met anyone so plain-spoken as you, Mrs. Robin; I haven't

-forgotten, I assure you!"

-

-"How about the candid sister? Isn't she plain-spoken?"

-

-"Oh, she attacks the outside of the cup and platter; you question

-motive power and ideals. Well, I confess I have less of the former

-than I ought, and more of the latter than I've ever used." Lavendar

-had rested on his oars now and was looking down, so that the twinkle

-of his eyes was lost. "I suppose I shall go on as I have done

-hitherto, doing my work in a sort of a way, and getting a certain

-amount of pleasure out of things,--unless--"

-

-"Oh, but that's not living!" she exclaimed; "that's only existing.

-Don't you remember:--

-

-                   It is not growing like a tree

-                   In bulk doth make man better be.

-

-It's really _living_ I mean, forgetting the things that are behind,

-and going on and on to something ahead, whatever one's aim may be."

-

-"What are you going to do with yourself, if I may ask?" said Lavendar.

-"Don't be too philanthropic, will you? You're so delightfully

-symmetrical now!"

-

-"I shall have plenty to do," cried Robinette ardently. "I've told you

-before, I have so much motive power that I don't know how to use it."

-

-"How about sharing a little of it with a friend!"

-

-Lavendar's voice was full of meaning, but Robinette refused to hear

-it. She had succumbed as quickly to his charm as he to hers, but while

-she still had command over her heart she did not intend parting with

-it unless she could give it wholly. She knew enough of her own nature

-to recognize that she longed for a rowing, not a drifting mate, and

-that nothing else would content her; but her instinct urged that

-Lavendar's indecisions and his uncertainties of aim were accidents

-rather than temperamental weaknesses. She suspected that his

-introspective moods and his occasional lack of spirits had a definite

-cause unknown to her.

-

-"I haven't a large income," she said, after a moment's silence,

-changing the subject arbitrarily, and thereby reducing her companion

-to a temporary state of silent rage.

-

-"Yet no one would expect a woman like this to fall like a ripe plum

-into a man's mouth," he thought presently; "she will drop only when

-she has quite made up her mind, and the bough will need a good deal of

-shaking!"

-

-"I haven't a large income," repeated Robinette, while Lavendar was

-silent, "only five thousand dollars a year, which is of course

-microscopic from the American standpoint and cost of living; so I

-can't build free libraries and swimming baths and playgrounds, or do

-any big splendid things; but I can do dear little nice ones, left

-undone by city governments and by the millionaires. I can sing, and

-read, and study; I can travel; and there are always people needing

-something wherever you are, if you have eyes to see them; one needn't

-live a useless life even if one hasn't any responsibilities. But"--she

-paused--"I've been talking all this time about my own plans and

-ambitions, and I began by asking yours! Isn't it strange that the

-moment one feels conscious of friendship, one begins to want to know

-things?"

-

-"My sister Amy would tell you I had no ambitions, except to buy as

-many books as I wish, and not to have to work too hard," said Mark

-smiling, "but I think that would not be quite true. I have some, of a

-dull inferior kind, not beautiful ones like yours."

-

-"Do tell me what they are."

-

-He shook his head. "I couldn't; they're not for show; shabby things

-like unsuccessful poor relations, who would rather not have too much

-notice taken of them. In a few weeks I am going to drag them out of

-their retreat, brighten them up, inject some poetry into their veins,

-and then display them to your critical judgment."

-

-They were almost at a standstill now and neither of them was noticing

-it at all. As Mrs. Loring moved her seat the boat lurched somewhat to

-one side. Mark, to steady her, placed his hand over hers as it rested

-on the rail, and she did not withdraw it. Then he found the other hand

-that lay upon her knee, and took it in his own, scarcely knowing what

-he did. He looked into her face and found no anger there. "I wish to

-tell you more about myself," he stammered, "something not altogether

-creditable to me; but perhaps you will understand. Perhaps even if you

-don't understand you will forgive."

-

-She drew her hands gently away from his grasp. "I shall try to

-understand, you may rely on that!" she said.

-

-"I'm not going to trouble you with any very dreadful confessions," he

-said, "only it's better to hear things directly from the people

-concerned, and you are sure to hear a wrong version sooner or

-later."--Then stopping suddenly he exclaimed, "Hullo! we're stuck, I

-declare! look at that!"

-

-Robinette turned and saw that their boat was now scarcely surrounded

-with water at all. On every side, as if the flanks of some great whale

-were upheaving from below, there appeared stretches of glistening mud.

-Just in front of them, where there still was a channel of water, was

-an upstanding rock. "Shall we row quickly there?" she cried. "Then

-perhaps we can get out and pull the boat to the other side, where

-there is more water. What has happened?"

-

-"Oh, something not unusual," said Lavendar grimly, "that I'm a fool,

-and the sea-tide has ebbed, as tides have been known to do before. I'm

-afraid a man doesn't watch tides when he has a companion like you! Now

-we're left high, but not at all dry, as you see, till the tide

-turns."

-

-By a swift stroke or two he managed to propel their craft as far as

-the rock. They scrambled up on it, and then he tried to haul the boat

-around the miniature islet; but the more he hauled, the quicker the

-water seemed to run away, and the deeper the wretched thing stuck in

-the mud. He jumped in again, and made an effort to push her off with

-an oar; meanwhile Robinette nearly fell off the rock in her efforts to

-get the head of the boat around towards the current again, and making

-a frantic plunge into the ooze, sank above her ankles in an instant.

-Lavendar caught hold of her and helped her to scramble back into the

-boat. "It's all right; only my skirt wet, and one shoe gone!" she

-panted. "Now, what are we to do?" She spread out her hands in dismay,

-and looked down at her draggled mud-stained skirt, her little feet,

-one shoeless and both covered with mud and slime. "What an object I

-shall be to meet Aunt de Tracy's eye, when, if ever, it does light on

-me again! Meanwhile it seems as if we might be here for some hours.

-The boat is just settling herself into the mud bank, like a rather

-tired fat old woman into an armchair, and pray, Mr. Lavendar, what do

-you propose to do? as Talleyrand said to the lady who told him she

-couldn't bear it."

-

-Lavendar looked about them; the main bed of the river was fifty yards

-away; between it and them was now only an expanse of mud.

-

-"It's perfectly hopeless," he said, "the best thing we can do is to

-beget some philosophy."

-

-"Which at any moment we would exchange for a foot of water," she

-interpolated.

-

-"We must just sit here and wait for the tide. Shall it be in the boat

-or on the rock?"

-

-"I don't see much difference, do you? Except that the passing boats,

-if there are any, might think it was a matter of choice to sit on a

-damp rock for two hours, but no one could think we wanted to sit in a

-boat in the mud."

-

-They landed on the rock for the second time. "For my part it's no

-great punishment," said Lavendar, when they settled themselves, "since

-the place is big enough for two and you're one of them!"

-

-"Wouldn't this be as good a stool of repentance from which to confess

-your faults as any?" asked Robinette, as she tucked her shoeless foot

-beneath her mud-stained skirt and made herself as comfortable as

-possible. "I'll even offer a return of confidence upon my own

-weaknesses, if I can find them, but at present only miles of virtue

-stretch behind me. Ugh! How the mud smells; quite penitential! Now:--

-

-            "What have you sought you should have shunned,

-            And into what new follies run?"

-

-"Oh, what a bad rhyme!" said Lavendar.

-

-"It's Pythagoras, any way," she explained.

-

-Then suddenly changing his tone, Lavendar went on. "This is not merely

-a jest, Mrs. Loring. Before you admit me really amongst the number of

-your friends I should like you to know that--to put it plainly--my

-own little world would tell you at the moment that I am a heartless

-jilt."

-

-"That is a very ugly expression, Mr. Lavendar, and I shall choose not

-to believe it, until you give me your own version of the story."

-

-"In one way I can give you no other; except that I was just fool

-enough to drift into an engagement with a woman whom I did not really

-love, and just not enough of a fool to make both of us miserable for

-life when I, all too late, found out my mistake."

-

-There passed before him at that moment other foolish blithe little

-loves, like faded flowers with the sweetness gone out of them. They

-had been so innocent, so fragile, so free from blame; all but the

-last; and this last it was that threatened to rise like a shadow

-perhaps, and defeat his winning the only woman he could ever love.

-

-Robinette stared at the stretches of ooze, and then stole a look at

-Mark Lavendar. "The idea of calling that man a jilt," she thought.

-"Look at his eyes; look at his mouth; listen to his voice; there is

-truth in them all. Oh for a sight of the girl he jilted! How much it

-would explain! No, not altogether, because the careless making of his

-engagement would have to be accounted for, as well as the breaking of

-it. Unless he did it merely to oblige her--and men are such idiots

-sometimes,--then he must have fancied he was in love with her. Perhaps

-he is continually troubled with those fancies. Nonsense! you believe

-in him, and you know you do." Then aloud she said, sympathetically,

-"I'm afraid we are apt to make these little experimental journeys in

-youth, when the heart is full of _wanderlust_. We start out on them so

-lightly, then they lead nowhere, and the walking back alone is

-wearisome and depressing."

-

-"My return journey was depressing enough at first," said Lavendar,

-"because the particular She was unkinder to me than I deserved even;

-but better counsels have prevailed and I shall soon be able to meet

-the reproachful gaze of stout matrons and sour spinsters more easily

-than I have for a year past; you see the two families were friends and

-each family had a large and interested connection!"

-

-"If the opinion of a comparative stranger is of any use to you," said

-Robinette, standing on the rock and scraping her stockinged foot free

-of mud, "_I_ believe in you, personally! You don't seem a bit 'jilty'

-to me! I'd let you marry my sister to-morrow and no questions asked!"

-

-"I didn't know you had a sister," cried Lavendar.

-

-"I haven't; that's only a figure of speech; just a phrase to show my

-confidence."

-

-"And isn't it ungrateful to be obliged to say I can't marry your

-sister, after you have given me permission to ask her!"

-

-"Not only ungrateful but unreasonable," said Robinette saucily,

-turning her head to look up the river and discovering from her point

-of vantage a moving object around the curve that led her to make

-hazardous remarks, knowing rescue was not far away. "What have you

-against my sister, pray?"

-

-"Very little!" he said daringly, knowing well that she held him in her

-hand, and could make him dumb or let him speak at any moment she

-desired. "Almost nothing! only that _she_ is not offering me _her_

-sister as a balm to my woes."

-

-"She _has_ no sister; she is an only child!--There! there!" cried

-Robinette, "the tide is coming up again, and the mud banks off in that

-direction are all covered with water! I see somebody in a boat, rowing

-towards us with superhuman energy. Oh! if I hadn't worn a white dress!

-It will _not_ come smooth; and my lovely French hat is ruined by the

-dampness! My one shoe shows how inappropriately I was shod, and

-whoever is coming will say it is because I am an American. He will

-never know you wouldn't let me go upstairs and dress properly."

-

-"It doesn't matter anyway," rejoined Mark, "because it is only Carnaby

-coming. You might know he would find us even if we were at the bottom

-of the river."

-

-

-

-

-XIII

-

-CARNABY TO THE RESCUE

-

-

-At Stoke Revel, in the meantime, the solemn rites of dinner had been

-inaugurated as usual by the sounding of the gong at seven o'clock.

-Mrs. de Tracy, Miss Smeardon, and Bates waited five minutes in silent

-resignation, then Carnaby came down and was scolded for being late,

-but there was no Robinette and no Lavendar.

-

-"Carnaby," said his grandmother, "do you know where Mark intended

-going this afternoon?"

-

-"No, I don't," said Carnaby, sulkily.

-

-"Your cousin Robinetta,"--with meaning,--"perhaps you know her

-whereabouts?"

-

-"Not I!" replied Carnaby with affected nonchalance. "I was ferreting

-with Wilson." He had ferreted perhaps for fifteen minutes and then

-spent the rest of the afternoon in solitary discontent, but he would

-not have owned it for the world.

-

-"Call Bates," commanded Mrs. de Tracy. Bates entered. "Do you know if

-Mr. Lavendar intended going any distance to-day? Did he leave any

-message?"

-

-"Mr. Lavendar, ma'am," said Bates, "Mr. Lavendar and Mrs. Loring they

-went out in the boat after tea. Mr. Lavendar asked William for the

-key, and William he went down and got out the oars and rudder,

-ma'am."

-

-"Does William know where they went?" asked Mrs. de Tracy in high

-displeasure. "Was it to Wittisham?"

-

-"No, ma'am, William says they went down stream. He thinks perhaps they

-were going to the Flag Rock, and he says the gentleman wouldn't have a

-hard pull, as the tide was going out. But Mr. Lavendar knows the river

-well, ma'am, as well as Mr. Carnaby here."

-

-"Then I conclude there is no immediate cause for anxiety," said Mrs.

-de Tracy with satire. "You can serve dinner, Bates; there seems no

-reason why we should fast as yet! However, Carnaby," she continued,

-"as the men cannot be spared at this hour, you had better go at once

-and see what has happened to our guests."

-

-"Right you are," cried Carnaby with the utmost alacrity. He was

-hungry, but the prospect of escape was better than food. He rushed

-away, and his boat was in mid-river before Mrs. de Tracy and Miss

-Smeardon had finished their tepid soup.

-

-A very slim young moon was just rising above the woods, but her tender

-light cast no shadows as yet, and there were no stars in the sky, for

-it was daylight still. The evening air was very fresh and cool; there

-was no wind, and the edges of the river were motionless and smooth,

-although in mid-stream the now in-coming tide clucked and swirled as

-it met the rush. Over at Wittisham one or two lights were beginning to

-twinkle, and there came drifting across the water a smell of wood

-smoke that suggested evening fires. Carnaby handled a boat well, for

-he had been born a sailor, as it were, and his long, powerful strokes

-took him along at a fine pace. But although he was going to look for

-Robinette and Mark, he was rather angry with both of them, and in no

-hurry. He rested on his oars indifferently and let the tide carry him

-up as it liked, while, with infinite zest, he unearthed a cigarette

-case from the recesses of his person, lit a cigarette, and smoked it

-coolly. Under Carnaby's apparent boyishness, there was a certain

-somewhat dangerous quality of precocity, which was stimulated rather

-than checked by his grandmother's repressive system. His smoking now

-was less the monkey-trick of a boy, than an act of slightly cynical

-defiance. He was no novice in the art, and smoked slowly and daintily,

-throwing back his head and blowing the smoke sometimes through his

-lips and sometimes through his nose. He looked for the moment older

-than his years, and a difficult young customer at that. His present

-sulky expression disappeared, however, under the influence of tobacco

-and adventure.

-

-"Where the dickens are they?" he began to wonder, pulling harder.

-

-A bend in the river presently solved the mystery. On a wide stretch of

-mud-bank, which the tide had left bare in going out, but was now

-beginning to cover again, a solitary boat was stranded.

-

-With this clue to guide him, Carnaby's bright eyes soon discovered the

-two dim forms in the distance.

-

-"Ahoy!" he shouted, and received a joyous answer. Robinette and Mark

-were the two derelicts, and their rescuer skimmed towards them with

-all his strength.

-

-He could get only within a few yards of the rock to which their boat

-was tied, and from that distance he surveyed them, expecting to find a

-dismal, ship-wrecked pair, very much ashamed of themselves and

-getting quite weary of each other. On the contrary the faces he could

-just distinguish in the uncertain light, were radiant, and Robinette's

-voice was as gay as ever he had heard it. He leaned upon his oars and

-looked at them with wonder.

-

-"Angel cousin!" cried Robinette. "Have you a little roast mutton about

-you somewhere, we are so hungry!"

-

-"You _are_ a pretty pair!" he remarked. "What have you been and

-done?"

-

-"We just went for a row after tea, Middy dear," said Robinette, "and

-look at the result."

-

-"You're not rowing now," observed Carnaby pointedly.

-

-"No," said Mark, "we gave up rowing when the water left us, Carnaby.

-Conversation is more interesting in the mud."

-

-"But how did you get here? I thought you were going to the Flag Rock?"

-demanded Carnaby.

-

-"Is there a Flag Rock, Middy dear? I didn't know," said Robinette

-innocently. "It shows we shouldn't go anywhere without our first

-cousin once removed. We just began to talk, here in the boat, and the

-water went away and left us." Then she laughed, and Mark laughed too,

-and Carnaby's look of unutterable scorn seemed to have no effect upon

-them. They might almost have been laughing at him, their mirth was so

-senseless, viewed in any other light.

-

-"It's nearly eight o'clock," he said solemnly. "Perhaps you can form

-some idea as to what grandmother's saying, and Bates."

-

-"Well, you're going to be our rescuer, Middy darling, so it doesn't

-matter," said Robinette. "Look! the water's coming up."

-

-But Carnaby seemed in no mood for waiting. He had taken off his boots,

-and rolled up his trousers above his knees.

-

-"I'd let Lavendar wade ashore the best way he could!" he said, "but I

-s'pose I've got to save you or there'd be a howl."

-

-"No one would howl any louder than you, dear, and you know it. Don't

-step in!" shrieked Robinette, "I've confided a shoe already to the

-river-mud! I just put my foot in a bit, to test it, and down the poor

-foot went and came up without its shoe. Oh, Middy dear, if your young

-life--"

-

-"Blow my young life!" retorted Carnaby. He was performing gymnastics

-on the edge of his boat, letting himself down and heaving himself up,

-by the strength of his arms. His legs were covered with mud.

-

-"No go!" he said. "It's as deep as the pit here; sometimes you can

-find a rock or a hard bit. We must just wait."

-

-They had not long to wait after all, for presently a rush of the tide

-sent the water swirling round the stranded boat, and carried Carnaby's

-craft to it.

-

-"Now it'll be all right," said he. "You push with the boat-hook, Mark,

-and I'll pull"; but it took a quarter of an hour's pushing and pulling

-to get the boat free of the mud.

-

-Except for the moon it would have been quite dark when the party

-reached the pier. They mounted the hill in some silence. It was

-difficult for Robinette to get along with her shoeless foot; Lavendar

-wanted to help her, but she demanded Carnaby's arm. He was sulking

-still. There was something he felt, but could not understand, in the

-subtle atmosphere of happiness by which the truant couple seemed to be

-surrounded; a something through which he could not reach; that seemed

-to put Robinette at a distance from him, although her shoulder touched

-his and her hand was on his arm. Growing pangs of his manhood assailed

-him, the male's jealousy of the other male. For the moment he hated

-Mark; Mark talking joyous nonsense in a way rather unlike himself, as

-if the night air had gone to his head.

-

-"I am glad you had the ferrets to amuse you this afternoon," said

-Robinette, in a propitiatory tone. "Ferrets are such darlings, aren't

-they, with their pink eyes?"

-

-"O! _darlings_," assented Carnaby derisively. "One of the darlings

-bit my finger to the bone, not that that's anything to you."

-

-"Oh! Middy dear, I am sorry!" cried Robinette. "I'd kiss the place to

-make it well, if we weren't in such a hurry!"

-

-Carnaby began to find that a dignified reserve of manner was very

-difficult to keep up. His grandmother could manage it, he reflected,

-but he would need some practice. When they came to a place where there

-were sharp stones strewn on the road, he became a mere boy again quite

-suddenly, and proposed a "queen's chair" for Robinette. And so he and

-Lavendar crossed hands, and one arm of Robinette encircled the boy's

-head, while the other just touched Lavendar's neck enough to be

-steadied by it. Their laughter frightened the sleepy birds that night.

-The demoralized remnant of a Bank Holiday party would have been,

-Lavendar observed, respectability itself in comparison with them; and

-certainly no such group had ever approached Stoke Revel before. They

-were to enter by a back door, and Carnaby was to introduce them to

-the housekeeper's room, where he undertook that Bates would feed them.

-Lavendar alone was to be ambassador to the drawing room.

-

-"The only one of us with a boot on each foot, of course we appoint him

-by a unanimous vote," said Robinette.

-

-But the chief thing that Carnaby remembered, after all, of that

-evening's adventure, was Robinette's sudden impulsive kiss as she bade

-him good-night, Lavendar standing by. She had never kissed him before,

-for all her cousinliness, but she just brushed his cool, round cheek

-to-night as if with a swan's-down puff.

-

-"That's a shabby thing to call a kiss!" said the embarrassed but

-exhilarated youth.

-

-"Stop growling, you young cub, and be grateful; half a loaf is better

-than no bread," was Lavendar's comment as he watched the draggled and

-muddy but still charming Robinette up the stairway.

-

-

-

-

-XIV

-

-THE EMPTY SHRINE

-

-

-Lavendar had discovered, much to his dismay, that he must return to

-London upon important business; it was even a matter of uncertainty

-whether his father could spare him again or would consent to his

-returning to Stoke Revel to conclude Mrs. de Tracy's arrangements

-about the sale of the land.

-

-Affairs of the heart are like thunderstorms; the atmosphere may

-sometimes seem charged with electricity, and yet circumstances, like a

-sudden wind that sweeps the clouds away before they break, may cause

-the lovers to drift apart. Or all in a moment may come thunder,

-lightning, and rain from a clear sky, and there is nothing that is apt

-to precipitate matters like an unexpected parting.

-

-When Lavendar announced that he had to leave Stoke Revel, two pairs

-of eyes, Miss Smeardon's and Carnaby's, instantly looked at Robinette

-to see how she received the news, but she only smiled at the moment.

-She was just beginning her breakfast, and like the famous Charlotte,

-"went on cutting bread and butter," without any sign of emotion.

-

-"Hurrah!" thought the boy. "Now we can have some fun, and I'll perhaps

-make her see that old Lavendar isn't the only companion in the

-world."

-

-"She minds," thought Miss Smeardon, "for she buttered that piece of

-bread on the one side a minute ago, and now she's just done it on the

-other--and eaten it too."

-

-"She doesn't care a bit," thought Lavendar. "She's not even changed

-colour; my going or staying is nothing to her; I needn't come back."

-

-He had made up his mind to return just the same, if it were at all

-possible, and he told Mrs. de Tracy so. She remarked graciously that

-he was a welcome guest at any time, and Carnaby, hearing this,

-pinched Lord Roberts till he howled like a fiend, and fled for comfort

-to his mistress's lap.

-

-"You little coward," said Carnaby, "you should be ashamed to bear the

-name of a hero."

-

-"I've mentioned to you before, Carnaby, I think, that I dislike that

-jest," said his grandmother, and Carnaby advancing to the injured

-beast said, "Yes, ma'am, and so does Bobs, doesn't he, Bobs?" reducing

-the lap-dog to paroxysms of fury. "Would it be any better if I called

-him _Kitchener_?" hissing the word into the animal's face. "Jealous,

-Bobs? Eh? _Kitchener_." This last word had a rasping sound that

-irritated the little creature more than ever; his teeth jibbered with

-anger, and Miss Smeardon had to offer him a saucer of cream before he

-could be calmed down enough for the rest of the party to hear

-themselves speak.

-

-"Had you nice letters this morning? Mine were very uninteresting,"

-Robinette remarked to Lavendar as they stood together at the doorway

-in the sunshine, while Carnaby chased the lap-dog round and round the

-lawn.

-

-"I had only two letters; one was from my sister Amy, the candid one!

-her letters are not generally exhilarating."

-

-"Oh, I know, home letters are usually enough to send one straight to

-bed with a headache! They never sound a note of hope from first to

-last; although if you had no home, but only a house, like me, with no

-one but a caretaker in it, you'd be very thankful to get them, doleful

-or not."

-

-"I doubt it," Mark answered, for Amy's letter seemed to be burning a

-hole in his pocket at that moment. He had skimmed it hurriedly

-through, but parts of it were already only too plain.

-

-When the others had gone into the house, he went off by himself, and

-jumping the low fence that divided the lawn from the fields beyond, he

-flung himself down under a tree to read it over again. Carnaby,

-spying him there, came rushing from the house, and was soon pouring

-out a tale of something that had happened somewhere, and throwing

-stones as he talked, at the birds circling about the ivied tower of

-the little church.

-

-The field was full of buttercups up to the very churchyard walls. "I

-must get away by myself for a bit," Lavendar thought. "That boy's

-chatter will drive me mad." At this point Carnaby's volatile attention

-was diverted by the sight of a gardener mounting a ladder to clear the

-sparrows' nests from the water chutes, and he jumped up in a twinkling

-to take his part in this new joy. Lavendar rose, and strolled off with

-his hands in his pockets and his bare head bent. The grass he walked

-in was a very Field of the Cloth of Gold. His shoes were gilded by the

-pollen from the buttercups, his eyes dazzled by their colour; it was a

-relief to pass through the stone archway that led into the little

-churchyard. To his spirit at that moment the chill was refreshing. He

-loitered about for a few minutes, and then seeing that the door was

-open, he entered the church, closing the door gently behind him.

-

-It was very quiet in there and even the chirping of the sparrows was

-softened into a faint twitter. Here at last was a place set apart, a

-moment of stillness when he might think things out by himself.

-

-He took out Amy's letter, smoothing it flat on the prayer books before

-him, and forced himself to read it through. The early paragraphs dealt

-with some small item of family news which in his present state of mind

-mattered to Lavendar no more than the distant chirruping of the birds,

-out there in the sunshine. "You seem determined to stay for some time

-at Stoke Revel," his sister wrote. "No doubt the pretty American is

-the attraction. She sounds charming from your description, but my dear

-man, that's all froth! How many times have I heard this sort of thing

-from you before! Remember I know everything about your former loves."

-

-"You _don't_, then," said Lavendar to himself. Down, down, down at the

-bottom of the well of the heart where truth lies, there is always some

-remembrance, generally a very little one, that can never be told to

-any confidant.

-

-"You will find out faults in Mrs. Loring presently, just like the rest

-of them," continued the pitiless writer. (Amy's handwriting was

-painfully distinct.) "I must tell you that at the Cowleys' the other

-day, I suddenly came face to face with Gertrude Meredith _and Dolly_!

-Dolly looks a good deal older already and fatter, I thought. I fear

-she is losing her looks, for her colour has become fixed, and she

-_will_ wear no collars still, although on a rather thick neck, it's

-not at all becoming. I spoke to her for about three minutes, as it was

-less awkward, when we met suddenly face to face like that. She laughed

-a good deal, and asked for you rather audaciously, I thought. They

-live near Winchester now, and since the Colonel's death are pretty

-badly off, Gertrude says. Dolly is going to Devonshire to stay with

-the Cowleys; you may meet her there any day, remember. It does seem

-incredible to me that a man of your discrimination could have been won

-by the obvious devotion of a girl like Dolly; but having given your

-word I almost think you would better have kept it, rather than suffer

-all this criticism from a host of mutual friends."

-

-Lavendar groaned aloud. He had a good memory, and with all too great

-distinctness did he now remember Dolly Meredith's laugh. How wretched

-it had all been; not a word had ever passed between them that had any

-value now. If he could have washed the thought of her forever from his

-memory, how greatly he would have rejoiced at that moment.

-

-Well, it was over; written down against him, that he had been what the

-world called a jilt and a fool; yes, certainly a fool, but not so

-great a one as to follow his folly to its ultimate conclusion, and tie

-himself for life to a woman he did not love.

-

-Lavendar was extraordinarily sensitive about the breaking of his

-engagement; partly because Miss Meredith herself, in her first rage,

-had avowed his responsibility for her blighted future, giving him no

-chance for chivalrous behaviour; partly because in all his transient

-love affairs he had easily tired of the women who inspired them. He

-seemed thirsty for love, but weary of it almost as soon as the draught

-reached his lips.

-

-And now had he a chance again?--or was it all to end in disappointment

-once more, in that cold disappointment of the heart that has received

-stones for bread? It was not entirely his own fault; he had expected

-much from life, and hitherto had received very little. But Robinette!

-

-"Let me find all her faults now," he said to himself, "or evermore

-keep silent; meantime I hope I am not concealing too many of my

-own."

-

-He tried to force himself into criticism; to look at her as a cold

-observer from the outside would have done; for that curious Border

-country of Love which he had entered has not an equable climate at

-all. It is fire and frost alternate; and criticism is either roused

-almost to a morbid pitch, or else the faculty is drugged, and nothing,

-not even the enumeration of a hundred foibles will awaken it for a

-time.

-

-When the cold fit had been upon him the evening before, Lavendar had

-said to himself that her manner was too free--that she had led him on

-too quickly; no, that expression was dishonourable and unjust; he

-repented it instantly; she had been too unself-conscious, too girlish,

-too unthinking, in what she said and did. "But she's a widow after

-all, though she's only two and twenty," he went on to himself. "Hang

-it! I wish she were not! If her heart were in her husband's grave I

-should be moaning at that; and because I see that it is not, I become

-critical. There's nothing quite perfect in life!"

-

-He had begun by noticing some little defects in her personal

-appearance, but he was long past that now; what did such trifles

-matter, here or there? Then he remembered all that he had heard said

-about American women. Did those pretty clothes of hers mean that she

-would be extravagant and selfish to obtain them? Could a young man

-with no great fortune offer her the luxury that was necessary to her?

-and even so, what changes come with time! He had a full realization of

-what the boredom of family life can be, when passion has grown stale.

-

-"At seventy, say, when I am palsied and she is old and fat, will

-romance be alive then? Will such feeling leave anything real behind it

-when it falls away, as the white blossoms on Mrs. Prettyman's plum

-tree will shrink and fall a fortnight hence?"

-

-He looked about him. On the walls of the little church were tablets

-with the de Tracy names; the names of her forefathers amongst them.

-Under his feet were other flags with names upon them too; and out

-there in the sunshine were the grave-stones of a hundred dead. How

-many of them had been happy in their loves?

-

-Not so many, he thought, if all were told, and why should he hope to

-be different? Yet surely this was a new feeling, a worthy one, at

-last. It was not for her charming person that he loved her; not

-because of her beauty and her gaiety only; but because he had seen in

-her something that gave a promise of completion to his own nature, the

-something that would satisfy not only his senses but his empty heart.

-

-He clenched his hands on the carved top of the old pew in front of

-him, which was fashioned into a laughing gnome with the body of a

-duck. "And if this should be all a dream," he asked himself again, "if

-this should all be false too! Good Lord!" he cried half aloud, "I

-want to be honest now! I want to find the truth. My whole life is on

-the throw this time!"

-

-There was a moment's silence after he had uttered the words. He got up

-and moved slowly down the aisle, opening the door, seeing again the

-meadow of buttercups, yellow as gold, and listening again to the

-sparrows chirruping in the sunshine outside.

-

-"I have been in that church a quarter of an hour," he said to himself,

-"and in trying to dive to the depths of myself and find out whether I

-was giving a woman all I had to give, I did not get time to consider

-that woman's probable answer, should I place my uninteresting life and

-liberty at her disposal."

-

-

-

-

-XV

-

-"NOW LUBIN IS AWAY"

-

-

-Lavendar made his adieux after luncheon and went off to London.

-"Good-bye for the present, Mrs. de Tracy; I shall be back on Wednesday

-probably, if I can arrange it," he said. "Good-bye, Mrs. Loring," and

-here he altered the phrase to "Shall I come back on Wednesday?" for

-his hostess had left the open door.

-

-There was no hesitation, but all too little sentiment, about

-Robinette's reply.

-

-"Wednesday, at the latest, are my orders," she answered merrily, and

-with the words ringing in his ears Lavendar took his departure.

-

-"Do you remember that this is the afternoon of the garden party at

-Revelsmere?" Mrs. de Tracy enquired, coming into the drawing room a

-few minutes later, where Mrs. Loring stood by the open window. She

-had allowed herself just five minutes of depression, staring out at

-the buttercup meadow. How black the rooks looked as they flew about it

-and how dreary everything was, now that Lavendar had gone! She was

-woman enough to be able to feel inwardly amused at her own absurdity,

-when she recognized that the ensuing three days seemed to stretch out

-into a limitless expanse of dullness. "The village seemed asleep or

-dead now Lubin was away!" Still, after all, it was an occasion for

-wearing a pretty frock, and she knew herself well enough to feel sure

-that the sight of a few of her fellow-creatures even pretending to

-enjoy themselves, would make her volatile spirits rise like the

-mercury in a thermometer on a hot day.

-

-Miss Smeardon was to be her companion, as Mrs. de Tracy had a headache

-that afternoon and was afraid of the heat, she said. "What heat?"

-Robinette had asked innocently, for in spite of the brilliant sunlight

-the wind blew from the east, keen as a knife. "I shall take a good

-wrap in the carriage in spite of this tropical temperature," she

-thought. Carnaby refused point blank to drive with them; he would

-bicycle to the party or else not go at all, so it was alone with Miss

-Smeardon that Robinette started in the heavy old landau behind the

-palsied horse.

-

-Miss Smeardon gave one glance at Mrs. Loring's dress, and Robinette

-gave one glance at Miss Smeardon's, each making her own comments.

-

-"That white cloth will go to the cleaner, I suppose, after one

-wearing, and as for that thing on her head with lilac wistaria

-drooping over the brim, it can't be meant as a covering, or a

-protection, either from sun or wind; it's nothing but an ornament!"

-Miss Smeardon commented; while to herself Robinette ejaculated,--

-

-"A penwiper, an old, much-used penwiper, is all that Miss Smeardon

-resembles in that black rag!"

-

-Carnaby, watching the start at the door, whistled in open admiration

-as Robinette came down the steps.

-

-"Well, well! we are got up to kill this afternoon; pity old Mark has

-just gone; but cheer up, Cousin Robin, there's always a curate on

-hand!"

-

-For once Robinette's ready tongue played her false, and a sense of

-loneliness overcame her at the sound of Lavendar's name. She gathered

-up her long white skirts and got into the carriage with as much

-dignity as she could muster, while Carnaby, his eyes twinkling with

-mischief, stood ready to shut the door after Miss Smeardon.

-

-"Hope you'll enjoy your drive," he jeered. "You'll need to hold on

-your hats. Bucephalus goes at such fiery speed that they'll be torn

-off your heads unless you do."

-

-"Middy dear, you're not the least amusing," said Robinette quite

-crossly, and with a lurch the carriage moved off.

-

-Miss Smeardon settled herself for conversation. "I'm afraid you will

-find me but a dull companion, Mrs. Loring," she said, glancing

-sideways at Robinette from under the brim of her mushroom hat.

-

-"Oh, you will be able to tell me who everyone is," said Robinette as

-cheerfully as she could.

-

-"I am no gossip," Miss Smeardon protested.

-

-"It isn't necessary to gossip, is it?--but I've a wholesome interest

-in my fellow creatures."

-

-"And it is well to know about people a little; when one comes among

-strangers as you do, Mrs. Loring; one can't be too careful--an

-American, particularly."

-

-Miss Smeardon's voice trailed off upon a note of insinuation; but

-Robinette took no notice of the remark. She did not seem to have

-anything to say, so Miss Smeardon took up another subject.

-

-"What a pity that Mr. Lavendar had to leave before this afternoon; he

-would have been such an addition to our party!"

-

-"Yes, wouldn't he?" Robinette agreed, though she carefully kept out of

-her voice the real passion of assent that was in her heart.

-

-"Mr. Lavendar is so agreeable, I always think," Miss Smeardon went on.

-"Everyone likes him; he almost carries his pleasant ways too far. I

-suppose that was how--" She paused, and added again, "Oh, but as I

-said, I never talk scandal!"

-

-"Do you think it's possible to be too pleasant?" Robinette remarked,

-stupidly enough, scarcely caring what she said.

-

-"Well, when it leads a poor girl to imagine that she is loved! I hear

-that Dolly Meredith is just heart-broken. The engagement kept on for

-quite a year, I believe, and then to break it off so heartlessly!--I

-was reminded of it all by coming here. Miss Meredith is a cousin of

-our hostess, and they met first at Revelsmere when they were quite

-young."

-

-"There is always a certain amount of talk when an engagement has to

-be broken off," said Robinette in a cold voice.

-

-"They seemed quite devoted at first," Miss Smeardon began; but

-Robinette interrupted her.

-

-"The sooner such things are forgotten the better, I think," she said.

-"No one, except the two people concerned, ever knows the real

-truth.--Tell me, Miss Smeardon, whom we are likely to meet at

-Revelsmere? Who is our hostess? What sort of parties does she give?"

-

-Being so firmly switched off from the affairs of Mr. Lavendar and Miss

-Meredith, it was impossible for Miss Smeardon to talk about them any

-more, and she had to turn to a less congenial theme.

-

-"We shall meet the neighbours," she told Robinette, "but I am afraid

-they may not interest you very much. I understand that in America you

-are accustomed to a great deal of the society of gentlemen. Here there

-are so few, and all of them are married."

-

-"All?" laughed Robinette.

-

-"Well, there is Mr. Finch, the curate, but he is a celibate; and young

-Mr. Tait of Strewe, but he is slightly paralysed."

-

-"Why, Carnaby must be quite an eligible bachelor in these parts," said

-Robinette; but Miss Smeardon was so deadly literal that she accepted

-the remark as a serious one.

-

-"Not quite yet; in a few years' time we shall need to be very careful,

-there are so many girls here, but not all of them desirable, of

-course."

-

-"There are? What a dull time they must have with the Married Men, the

-Celibate, the Paralytic, and Carnaby! I'm glad my girlhood wasn't

-spent in Devonshire."

-

-Conversation ended here, for the carriage rumbled up the avenue, and

-Robinette looked about her eagerly. Revelsmere was a nice old house,

-surrounded by fine sloping lawns and a background of sombre

-beechwoods. The lawns to-day were dotted with groups of people, mainly

-women, and elderly at that. As Robinette and Miss Smeardon alighted

-at the door an elderly hostess welcomed them, and an elderly host led

-them across the lawn and straightly they fell into the clutches of

-more and more elderlies.

-

-"It is fairly bewildering!" Robinette cried in her heart; then she saw

-a bevy of girls approaching; such nice-looking girls, happy, well

-dressed, but all unattended by their suitable complement of young

-men.

-

-"For whom do they dress, here? They've a deal of self-respect, I

-think, to go on getting themselves up so nicely for themselves and the

-Celibate, the Paralytic, and Carnaby," thought Robinette, as she

-watched them.

-

-Presently another couple came across the lawn; the young woman was by

-no means a girl, rather heavily built, with a high fixed colour. She

-was attended by a man. "Not the Celibate certainly," thought Mrs.

-Loring with a glance at his bullock-like figure, his thick neck, and

-glossy black hair, "nor the Paralytic; and it's not Carnaby. It must

-be a new arrival!"

-

-At that moment it began to rain, but nothing daunted, their hostess

-approached her, and saying pleasantly that she wished to introduce her

-to Miss Meredith, she left Robinette and the young woman standing

-together under a spreading tree, and took the gentleman away with

-her.

-

-The moment that she heard the name, Robinette realized who Miss

-Meredith was. They seated themselves side by side on a garden bench,

-and Miss Meredith remarked upon the heat, planting a rather fat hand

-upon the arm of the garden seat, and surveying it complacently,

-especially the very bright diamond ring upon the third finger.

-

-After a few preliminary remarks, she asked Mrs. Loring if she were

-stopping in the neighbourhood.

-

-"Yes, I am staying at Stoke Revel for a short time," Robinette

-replied; "Mrs. de Tracy is my aunt, or at least I am Admiral de

-Tracy's niece."

-

-Her companion did not seem to take the least interest in this part of

-the information, only when Stoke Revel was mentioned she looked around

-suddenly as if surprised.

-

-They talked upon indifferent subjects, while Robinette, as she watched

-Miss Meredith, was saying a good deal to herself, although she only

-spoke aloud about the weather and the Devonshire scenery.

-

-"I will be just, if I can't be generous," she thought. "She has (or

-she must once have had) a fine complexion. I dare say she is sincere

-enough; she may be sensible; she might be good-humoured,--when

-pleased."

-

-"There is going to be a shower," said Miss Meredith, "but I've nothing

-on to spoil," she added, glancing at Robinette's hat.

-

-Sitting there on the bench, hearing the spitting rain upon the water

-below them and watching the leaden mists that slowly gathered over the

-landscape, Robinette fell upon a moment of soul sickness very unusual

-to her. Miss Meredith too was silent, absorbed in her own thoughts.

-

-"If she had looked even a little different it would have been so much

-easier to explain," thought Robinette. Then suddenly she glanced up.

-She saw that her companion's face had softened, and changed. There was

-a look,--Robinette caught it just for one moment,--such as a proud

-angry child might have worn: sulky, hurt to the heart, but determined

-not to cry. Instantly a chord was struck in Robinette's soul. "She has

-suffered, anyway," she thought. "May I be forgiven for my harsh

-judgment!"

-

-With a shiver she drew her wrap about her shoulders, and Miss Meredith

-turned towards her. The expression Robinette had noticed passed from

-the high-coloured face and left it as before, self-complacent and

-slightly patronizing. "You seem to feel cold," she said. "I never do;

-which is rather unfortunate, as I'm just going out to India!"

-

-"Indeed? How soon are you going?"

-

-"In about six weeks. I'm just going to be married, and we sail

-directly afterwards," said Miss Meredith. "You saw Mr. Joyce, I think,

-when we came up together a few minutes ago?"

-

-A weight as if of a ton of lead was lifted from Robinette's heart as

-she spoke. She could scarcely refrain from jumping up to throw her

-arms about Dolly Meredith's neck and kiss her. As it was, she bubbled

-over with a kind of sympathetic interest that astonished the other

-woman. It is only too easy to lead an approaching bride to talk about

-her own affairs, for she can seldom take in the existence of even her

-nearest and dearest at such a time, and in a few minutes the two young

-women were deep in conversation. When a quarter of an hour later Miss

-Smeardon appeared to tell Robinette that they must be going, she

-looked up with a start at the sound of footsteps on the gravel path.

-"Oh, you are here, Mrs. Loring; we couldn't think where you had

-gone," said Miss Smeardon, acidly.

-

-"And here is Miss Meredith of all people!" she continued, "I thought

-you were sure to be on the tennis court, Miss Meredith; Mr. Joyce is

-playing now."

-

-"Oh, we have had such a delightful talk," said Dolly, so flushed with

-pleasure that Miss Smeardon gazed at her in astonishment.

-

-"If only I knew her well enough to send her a munificent wedding

-present! How I should love to do so; just to register my own joy,"

-said Robinette to herself. As it was she shook hands very warmly with

-Miss Meredith before they parted, and when half way across the lawn,

-looked back again, and waved her hand gaily. Miss Meredith was pacing

-the grass, and treading heavily beside her, with a very gallant air,

-was her bullock-like young man.

-

-"Mr. Joyce is quite wealthy," said Miss Smeardon. "I understand that

-he is an only son too, and will some day inherit a fine property.

-Miss Meredith is most fortunate, at her age and with her history."

-

-Robinette said nothing. She looked out at the glistening reaches of

-the river, now shining through the silver mist; at the fields yellow

-with buttercups, and the folds of the distant hills. As they drove up

-the lane to the house, the birds, refreshed by the rain, were singing

-like angels. In her heart too, something was singing as blithely as

-any bird amongst them all.

-

-"Sometimes, sometimes our mistakes do not come home to roost!" she

-thought, "but fly away and make nests elsewhere--rich nests in India

-too!"

-

-"How did you enjoy the party, Cousin Robin?" said Carnaby, who

-was waiting for them in the doorway. "I had a good tuck-in of

-strawberries. The ladies were a little young for my taste; just

-immature girls; no one under sixty, and rather frisky, don't you

-think? By the way did you see Number One and her millionaire?"

-

-"I don't know what you mean by Number One," said Robinette, haughtily,

-as she passed in at the door.

-

-"You will, when you're Number Two!" rejoined Carnaby, stooping to

-pinch Lord Roberts' tail till the hero yelped aloud.

-

-

-

-

-XVI

-

-TWO LETTERS

-

-

-Lavendar tore up his fourth sheet of paper and began afresh. "Dear

-Mrs. Loring." No, that would not do; he took another sheet, and began

-again:--

-

-"My dear Mrs. Loring,--Your commission for old Mrs. Prettyman has

-taken some little time to execute, for I had to go to two or three

-shops before finding a chair 'with green cushions, and a wide seat, so

-comfortable that it would almost act as an anæsthetic if her

-rheumatism happened to be bad, and yet quite suitable for a cottage

-room.' These were my orders, I think, and like all your orders they

-demand something better than the mere perfunctory observance. My own

-proportions differing a good deal from those of the old lady, it is

-still an open question whether what seemed comfortable to me will be

-quite the same to her. I can but hope so, and the chair will be

-dispatched at once.

-

-"London is noisy and dusty, and grimy and stuffy, and, to one man at

-least, very, very dull. A boat on Greenshaw ferry seems the only spot

-in the world where any gaiety is to be found. You can hear the cuckoos

-calling across the river as you read this, no doubt, and Carnaby is

-rendered happier than he deserves by being allowed to row you down to

-tell Mrs. Prettyman about the chair. I feel as if, like the Japanese,

-I could journey a hundred miles to worship that wonderful tree.--Don't

-let the blossoms fall until I come!

-

-"There seems a good deal of business to be done. My father unfortunately

-is no better, so he cannot come down to Stoke Revel, and I shall

-probably return upon Wednesday morning. A poem of Browning's runs in my

-head--something about three days--I can't quote exactly.

-

-"If my sister were writing this letter, she would say that I have been

-very hard to please, and uninterested in everything since I came home.

-Indeed it seems as if I were. London in this part of it, in hot

-weather, makes a man weary for green woods, a sliding river, and a

-Book of Verses underneath a Bough. Well, perhaps I shall have all of

-them by Wednesday afternoon. You will think I can do nothing but

-grumble. All the same, into what was the mere dull routine of

-uncongenial work before, your influence has come with a current of new

-energy; like the tide from the sea swelling up into the inland

-river.--I'm at it again! Rivers on the brain evidently.

-

-"I hope meanwhile that Carnaby behaves himself, and is not too much of

-a bore, and that England,--England in spring at least, is gaining a

-corner in your heart? Your mother called it home, remember. Yes, do

-try to remember that!

-

-"Did you go to the garden party? Did you walk? Did you drive? Did you

-like it? Who was there? Were you dull?"

-

-                  *       *       *       *       *

-

-There was a postscript:--

-

-"I have found the verse from Browning, 'So I shall see her in three

-days.'

-

-                                                               "M. L."

-

-                  *       *       *       *       *

-

-                                                       "Tuesday, 19th.

-

-"Dear Mr. Lavendar: First, many thanks for Nurse's armchair, which

-arrived in perfect order, and is a shining monument to your good

-taste. She does nothing but look at it, shrouding it when she retires

-to bed with an old table-cover, to protect it from the night air.

-

-"Whether she will ever make its acquaintance thoroughly enough to sit

-in it I do not know, but it will give her an enormous amount of

-pleasure. Perhaps her glow of pride in its possession does her as much

-good as the comfort she might take in its use.

-

-"Her 'rheumatics' are very painful just now, and I have a good deal to

-do with Duckie. You remember Duckie? I call her Mrs. Mackenzie, after

-that lady in The Newcomes who talked the Colonel to death. Mrs.

-Mackenzie is heavy, elderly, and strong-willed. I am acquainted with

-every bone, tendon, and sinew in her body, having to lift her into a

-coop behind the cottage where she will not wake Nurse at dawn with her

-eternal quacking. She has heretofore slept under Nurse's bedroom

-window and dislikes change of any kind. So lucky she has no offspring!

-I tremble to think of what maternal example might do in such a

-talkative family!

-

-"Stoke Revel is as it was and ever will be, world without end; only

-Aunt de Tracy is crosser than when you are here and life is not as

-gay, although Carnaby does his dear, cubbish best. If ever you

-desire your mental jewels to shine at their brightest; if ever you

-wish a tolerably good disposition to seem like that of an angel; if

-ever, in a fit of vanity, you would like to appear as a blend of

-Apollo, Lancelot, Demosthenes, Prince Charlie, Ajax, and Solomon,

-just fly to Stoke Revel and become part of the household. Assume

-nothing; simply appear, and the surroundings will do the rest; like

-the penny-in-the-slot arrangements. Seen upon a background of Bates,

-William, Benson, Big Cummins, the Curate, Miss Smeardon, and may I

-dare to add, the lady of the Manor herself,--any living breathing

-man takes on an Olympian majesty. I shouldn't miss you in Boston

-nor in London; perhaps even in Weston I might find a wretched

-substitute, but here you are priceless!

-

-"I have some news for you. On Saturday Miss Smeardon and I went to a

-garden party. That was what it was called. The thermometer was only

-slightly below zero when we started, and that luminary masquerading as

-the sun was pretending to shine. Soon after we arrived at the festive

-scene, there were gusts of wind and rain. I sought the shelter of a

-spreading tree, the kitchen fire not being available, and I was joined

-there by the hostess, who presented her niece, your Miss Meredith.

-

-"Dear Mr. Lavendar, this is a subject we cannot write about, you and

-I. I am loyal to my sex, and what Miss Meredith said, and looked, and

-did, are all as sacred to me as they ought to be. I only want to tell

-you that she is happy; that she has this very week become engaged, and

-is going to India with her husband in a month. Now that little

-cankerworm, that has been gnawing at your roots of life for the last

-year or two, has done its worst, and you are perfectly free to go and

-make other mistakes. I only hope you'll get 'scot free' from those,

-too, for I don't like to see nice men burn their fingers. We became

-such good friends huddled up in that boat when we were stuck in the

-mud--Ugh! I can smell it now!--that I am glad to be the first to send

-you pleasant news.

-

-                                             "Sincerely yours,

-                                                 "ROBINETTA LORING."

-

-

-

-

-XVII

-

-MRS. DE TRACY CROSSES THE FERRY

-

-

-Lavendar's blunt refusal, except under certain conditions, to

-announce to Mrs. Prettyman her coming ejection from the cottage at

-Wittisham, was unprofessional enough, as he himself felt; but it

-was final and categorical. Conveying as it did a sort of tacit

-remonstrance, this refusal had an unfortunate effect, for it only

-served to rouse Mrs. de Tracy's formidable obstinacy. She had

-seized upon one point only in their numberless and wearisome

-discussions of the matter: Mrs. Prettyman had no legal claim upon

-Stoke Revel. To give her compensation for the plum tree would be to

-allow that she had; to create a precedent highly dangerous under the

-circumstances. How could one refuse to other old women or old men

-leaving their cottages what one had weakly granted to her? The

-demands would be unceasing, the trouble endless. So arguing, Mrs. de

-Tracy soon brought herself to a state of determination bordering on a

-sort of mania. She was old, and in exaggerated harshness her life was

-retreating as it were into its last stronghold, at bay.

-

-As good as her word, for she had vowed she would warn Mrs. Prettyman

-herself, and she was never one to procrastinate, the lady of the Manor

-proceeded to plan her visit to Wittisham. She had not crossed the

-river for years. Wittisham, one of the loveliest villages in England,

-perhaps, though little known, was a thorn in her side, as it would

-have been in that of any other landlord with empty pockets.

-

-What you could not deal with to your own advantage, it was better to

-ignore, and on this autocratic principle, Mrs. de Tracy had left

-Wittisham to itself.

-

-But now the boat carried her there, alone and fierce--_thrawn_, as

-the Scotch say--bent upon a course of conduct that she knew would

-hold her up to the hatred of every right-thinking person of her

-acquaintance, and bitterly triumphant in the knowledge. The

-meanness of her errand never struck her. On the contrary, she would

-have argued it was one well worthy of her, a part of the scheme in

-the consummation of which she had spent her married life and her whole

-indomitable energy, losing actually her own identity in the process,

-and becoming an inexorable machine. That scheme was the holding

-together of Stoke Revel for the de Tracys, the maintenance of family

-dignity and power, the pre-eminence of a race that had always ruled.

-The river beneath her, carrying her to the fulfilment of her duty,

-the noble river, widening to the sea, subject to its tides and made

-turbulent by its storms, typified to Mrs. de Tracy only the

-greatness of Stoke Revel. From its banks the de Tracys had sent out,

-generation after generation, men who had commanded fleets, who

-had upheld the national honour upon the farthest seas, very often at

-the cost of life. There was no sacrifice of herself at which Mrs.

-de Tracy would have hesitated in upholding this ideal, no sacrifice

-of others, either. What was Lizzie Prettyman in comparison? A bag

-of old bones, fit for nothing but the workhouse!

-

-"A little faster, William," said the widow, sitting upright in the

-stern, and William the footman bent to his oars, the beads of

-perspiration standing on his brow. When Mrs. de Tracy stepped out upon

-the pier, she had to be reminded where the Prettyman cottage was.

-

-"You'll know it by the plum tree, ma'am," said William respectfully,

-"everybody does."

-

-It was not far off on the river side. The tide had ebbed and left a

-stretch of muddy foreshore in front of it, where the rotting poles for

-hanging the fishing nets out to dry stood gauntly up. Mrs. de Tracy

-approached the steps, which merged into the flagged path before the

-door, and paused to survey the property she intended to part with. She

-had no eye for the picturesque. A few white petals from the blossoming

-plum tree, scattered by the breeze, fell upon her black bonnet and

-shoulders. A faint scent of honey came from it and the hum of bees,

-for the day was warm. The tumble-down condition of the cottage engaged

-Mrs. de Tracy's attention.

-

-"And for this," she thought scornfully, "a man will give hundreds of

-pounds! There's truth in the adage that a fool and his money are soon

-parted!"

-

-She mounted the steps that led up to the patch of garden, her keen,

-cold eyes everywhere at once. "A cat can't sneeze without she 'ears

-'im!" her villagers at Stoke Revel were wont to say, disappearing into

-their houses as rabbits into their burrows at sight of a terrier.

-

-Old Elizabeth Prettyman stood at her door, and it took some time to

-make her realize who her august visitor was. She was getting blind;

-she had never been a favourite with Mrs. de Tracy, nor had she entered

-Stoke Revel Manor since her nursling disgraced it by marrying a Bean.

-She curtseyed humbly to the great lady.

-

-"There now, ma'am," she said, "it's not often we have seen you across

-the river. Will you please to come inside and sit down, ma'am? 'T is

-very warm this afternoon, it is." She was a good deal fluttered in her

-welcome, for there was that in Mrs. de Tracy's air that seemed to bode

-misfortune.

-

-"I shall sit down for a few minutes, Elizabeth," was the reply, "while

-I explain my visit to you."

-

-Mrs. Prettyman stood aside respectfully, and Mrs. de Tracy swept past

-her into the cottage and seated herself there. It never occurred to

-her to ask the old woman to sit down in her own house; she expected

-her to stand throughout the interview. Without further preamble,

-then, Mrs. de Tracy came to the point:--

-

-"Elizabeth," she said, "I have come to tell you that I am going to

-sell the land on which this cottage stands, and that you will have to

-find some other home."

-

-The old woman did not understand for a minute. "You be going to sell

-the land, ma'am?" she repeated stupidly.

-

-"Yes, I am. A gentleman from London wishes to buy it; you will need to

-go."

-

-"A gentleman from London! Lor, ma'am, no gentleman from London

-wouldn't live 'ere!" Elizabeth cried, perfectly dazed by the

-statement.

-

-Mrs. de Tracy repeated: "It is not your business, Elizabeth, what he

-intends to do with the place; all you have to do is to remove from the

-house."

-

-The old woman sank down on the nearest chair and covered her face with

-her hands. She was so old and so tired that she had no heart to face

-life under new conditions, even should they be better than those she

-left. A younger woman would have snapped her fingers in Mrs. de

-Tracy's face, so to speak, and wished her joy of her old rattletrap of

-a house, but Elizabeth Prettyman, after a lifetime of struggles, had

-not vitality enough for such an action. She had never dreamed of

-leaving the cottage, and where was she to go? Her furrowed face wore

-an expression of absolute terror now when she looked up.

-

-"But where be I to live, ma'am?" she cried.

-

-"I do not know, Elizabeth; you must arrange that with your relations,"

-said Mrs. de Tracy.

-

-"I don't 'ave but only me niece--'er as married down Exeter way."

-

-"Well, you should write to her then."

-

-"She don't want to keep me, Nettie don't,--she's but a poor man's

-wife, and five chillen she 'as; it's not like as if she were me

-daughter, ma'am."

-

-"You have some small sum of money of your own every year, have you

-not?" Mrs. de Tracy asked.

-

-"Ten pound a year, ma'am; the same that me 'usband left me; two

-'undred pounds 'e 'ad saved and 't is in an annuity; that's all I

-'ave--that and me plum tree."

-

-"The plum tree is not yours, either, Elizabeth; that belongs to the

-land," said Mrs. de Tracy curtly.

-

-"'T was me 'usband planted it, ma'am, years ago. We watched 'en and

-pruned 'en and tended 'en like a child we did--an' now to be told 'er

-ain't mine!"

-

-"You're forgetting yourself, Elizabeth, I think," said Mrs. de Tracy.

-It was simply impossible for her to see with the old woman's eyes; all

-she remembered was the legal fact that any tree planted in Stoke Revel

-ground belonged to the owner of the ground.

-

-"But ma'am, 't is a big part of me living is the plum tree; only

-yesterday I says to the young lady--Miss Cynthia's young lady--I

-says, 'Dear knows how 't would be with me without I had the plum

-tree.'"

-

-"I cannot help that, Elizabeth: the plum tree is not yours, it belongs

-to Stoke Revel."

-

-"Then ma'am, you'll be 'lowing me something for it surely?"

-

-"No," said Mrs. de Tracy obstinately, "you have no legal claim to

-compensation, Elizabeth. I cannot undertake to allow you anything for

-what is not yours. If I did it in your case you know quite well I

-should have to do it in many others."

-

-There was a long and heavy silence. Elizabeth Prettyman was taking in

-her sentence of banishment from her old home; Mrs. de Tracy was merely

-wondering how long it would take her to walk down that nasty steep bit

-of path to the ferry. At last the old woman looked up.

-

-"When must I be goin' then, ma'am?" she asked meekly.

-

-Mrs. de Tracy considered. "The transfer of land from one person to

-another generally takes some time: you will have several weeks here

-still; I shall send you notice later which day to quit."

-

-"Thank you, ma'am," said Elizabeth simply, and added, "The plum tree

-blossoms 'ul be over by that time."

-

-"I don't see what that has to do with it," said Mrs. de Tracy, in

-whose heart there was room for no sentiment.

-

-"'T would have been 'arder leavin' it in blossom time," the old woman

-explained; but her hearer could not see the point. She rose slowly

-from her chair and looked around the cottage.

-

-"I am glad to see that you keep your place clean and respectable,

-Elizabeth," she said. "I wish you good afternoon."

-

-Elizabeth never rose from her chair to see her visitor to the door--(an

-omission which Mrs. de Tracy was not likely to overlook)--she just sat

-there gazing stupidly around the tiny kitchen and muttering a word or

-two now and then. At last she got up and tottered to the garden.

-

-"I'll 'ave to leave it all--leave the old bench as me William did put

-for me with his own 'ands, and leave Duckie, Duckie can't never go to

-Exeter if I goes there,--and leave the plum tree." She limped across

-the little bit of sunny turf, and stood under the white canopy of the

-blossoming tree, leaning against its slender trunk. "Pity 't is we

-ain't rooted in the ground same as the trees are," she mused. "Then no

-one couldn't turn us out; only the Lord Almighty cut us down when our

-time came; Lord knows I'm about ready for that now--grave-ripe as you

-may say." She leaned her poor weary old head against the tree stem and

-wept, ready, ah! how ready, at that moment, to lay down the burden of

-her long and toilsome life.

-

-"Good afternoon, Nursie dear!" a clear voice called out in her ear,

-and Elizabeth started to find that Robinette had tip-toed across the

-grass and was standing close beside her. She lifted her tear-stained

-face up to Robinette's as a child might have done.

-

-"I've to quit, Missie," she sobbed, "to leave me 'ome and Duckie and

-the plum tree, an' I've no place to go to, and naught but my ten

-pounds to live on--and 't won't keep me without I've the plum tree,

-not when I've rent to pay from it; not if I don't eat nothing but tea

-an' bread never again!"

-

-In a moment Robinette's arms were about her: her soft young cheeks

-pressed against the withered old face.

-

-"What's this you're saying, Nurse?" she cried. "Leaving your cottage?

-Who said so?"

-

-"It's true, dear, quite true; 'asn't the lady 'erself been here to

-tell me so?"

-

-"Was that what Aunt de Tracy was here about? I met her on the road

-five minutes ago; she said she had been here on business! But tell me,

-Nurse, why does she want you to leave? Are you going to get a better

-cottage? Does she think this one isn't healthy for you?"

-

-"No, no, dear, 't isn't that, she 've sold the cottage over me 'ead,

-that's what 't is, or she's going to sell it, to a gentleman from

-London--Lord knows what a gentleman from London wants wi' 'en--and

-I've to quit."

-

-Robinette tried to be a peacemaker.

-

-"Then you'll get a much more comfortable house, that's quite certain.

-You know, though this one is lovely on fine days like this, that the

-thatch is all coming off, and I'm sure it's damp inside! Just wait a

-bit, and see if you don't get some nice cosy little place, with a

-sound roof and quite dry, that will cure this rheumatism of yours."

-

-But Mrs. Prettyman shook her head.

-

-"No, no, there won't be no cosy place given to me; I'm no more worth

-than an old shoe now, Missie, and I'm to be turned out, the lady said

-so 'erself; said as I must go to Exeter to live with me niece Nettie,

-and 'er don't want us--Nettie don't--and whatever shall I do without I

-'ave Duckie and the plum tree?"

-

-"Oh, but"--Robinette began, quite incredulously, and the old woman

-took up her lament again.

-

-"And I asked the lady, wouldn't I 'ave something allowed me for the

-plum tree--that 'ave about clothed me for years back? And 'No,' she

-says, ''t ain't your plum tree, Elizabeth, 't is mine; I can't 'low

-nothing on me own plum tree.'"

-

-Robinette still refused to believe the story.

-

-"Nurse, dear," she said, "you're a tiny bit deaf now, you know, and

-perhaps you misunderstood about leaving. Suppose you keep your dear

-old heart easy for to-night, and I'll come down bright and early

-to-morrow and tell you what it really is! If you have to leave the

-plum tree you'll get a fine price put on it that may last you for

-years; it's such a splendid tree, anyone can see it's worth a good

-deal."

-

-"That it be, Missie, the finest tree in Wittisham," the old woman

-said, drying her eyes, a little comforted by the assurance in

-Robinette's voice and manner.

-

-"There now, we won't have any more tears: I've brought a new canister

-of tea I sent for to London. I'm just dying to taste if it's good;

-we'll brew it together, Nursie; I shall carry out the little table

-from the kitchen and we'll drink our tea under the plum tree,"

-Robinette cried.

-

-She was carrying a great parcel under her arm, and when Mrs. Prettyman

-opened it, she could scarcely believe that this lovely red tin

-canister, filled with pounds of fragrant tea, could really be hers!

-The sight of such riches almost drove away her former fears. Robinette

-whisked into the kitchen and came out carrying the little round table

-which she set down under the white canopy of the plum tree. Then

-together they brought out the rest of the tea things, and what a merry

-meal they had!

-

-"It's just nonsense and a bit of deafness on your part, Nurse, so we

-won't remember anything about leaving the house, we are only going to

-think of enjoyment," Robinette announced. Then the old woman was

-comforted, as old people are wont to be by the brave assurances of

-those younger and stronger than themselves, forgot the spectre that

-seemed to have risen suddenly across her path, and laughed and talked

-as she sipped the fragrant London tea.

-

-

-

-

-XVIII

-

-THE STOKE REVEL JEWELS

-

-

-"Hullo! Cousin Robin, hurry up, you'll need all your time!" It was

-Carnaby of course who saluted Robinette thus, as she came towards the

-house on her return from Wittisham.

-

-"I'm not late, am I?" she said, consulting her watch.

-

-"I thought you'd be making a tremendous toilette; one of your killing

-ones to-night," Carnaby said. "Do! I love to see you all dressed up

-till old Smeardon's eyes look as if they would drop out when you come

-into the room."

-

-"I'll wear my black dress, and her eyes may remain in her head,"

-Robinette laughed.

-

-"And what about Mark's eyes? Wouldn't you like them to drop out?" the

-boy asked mischievously. "He's come back by the afternoon train while

-you were away at Wittisham."

-

-"Oh, has he?" Robinette said, and Carnaby stared so hard at her, that

-to her intense annoyance she blushed hotly.

-

-"Horrid lynx-eyed boy," she said to herself as she ran upstairs, "He's

-growing up far too quickly. He needs to be snubbed." She dashed to the

-wardrobe, pulled out the black garment, and gave it a vindictive shake.

-"Old, dowdy, unbecoming, deaconess-district-visitor-bible-woman,

-great-grand-auntly thing!" she cried.

-

-Then her eye lighted on a cherished lavender satin. She stood for a

-moment deliberating, the black dress over her arm, her eyes fixed upon

-the lavender one that hung in the wardrobe.

-

-"I don't care," she cried suddenly: "I'll wear the lavender, so here

-goes! Men are all colour blind, so he'll merely notice that I look

-nice. I must conceal from myself and everybody else how depressed I am

-over the interview with Nurse, and how I dread discussing the cottage

-with Aunt de Tracy. That must be done the first thing after dinner, or

-I shall lose what little courage I have."

-

-Lavendar thought he had never seen her look so lovely as when he met

-her in the drawing room a quarter of an hour later. There was nothing

-extraordinary about the dress but its exquisite tint and the sheen of

-the soft satin. The suggestion that lay in the colour was entirely

-lost upon him, however: if asked to name it he would doubtless have

-said "purplish." How he wished that he might have escorted her into

-the dining room, but Mrs. de Tracy was his portion as usual, and

-Robinette was waiting for Carnaby, who seemed unaccountably slow.

-

-"Your arm, Middy, when you are quite ready," she said to him at last.

-Carnaby's extraordinary unreadiness seemed to arise from his trying to

-smuggle some object up his sleeve. This proved, a few moments later,

-to be a bundle of lavender sticks tied with violet ribbon that he had

-discovered in his bureau drawer. He laid it by Robinette's plate with

-a whispered "My compliments."

-

-"What does your cousin want that bunch of lavender for, at the table?"

-Mrs. de Tracy enquired.

-

-"She likes lavender anywhere, ma'am," Carnaby said with a wink on the

-side not visible by his grandmother. "It's a favourite of hers."

-

-Robinette could only be thankful that Lavendar was occupied in a

-_sotto voce_ discussion of wine with Bates, and she was able to

-conceal the bundle of herbs before his eyes met hers, for the fury she

-felt against her precious young kinsman at that moment she could have

-expressed only by blows.

-

-Dinner seemed interminably long. Robinette, for more reasons than one,

-was preoccupied; Lavendar made few remarks, and Carnaby was possessed

-by a spirit of perfectly fiendish mischief, saying and doing

-everything that could most exasperate his grandmother, put her guests

-to the blush, and shock Miss Smeardon.

-

-But at last Mrs. de Tracy rose from the table, and the ladies followed

-her from the room, leaving Lavendar to cope alone with Carnaby.

-

-"My fair American cousin is more than usually lovely to-night, eh, Mr.

-Lavendar?" the boy said, with his laughable assumption of a man of the

-world.

-

-"There, my young friend; that will do! you're talking altogether too

-much," said Lavendar, as he poured himself out a glass of wine and sat

-down by the open window to drink it. Carnaby, perhaps not unreasonably

-offended, lounged out of the room, and left the older man to his own

-meditations.

-

-Robinette in the meantime went into the drawing room with her aunt,

-and they sat down together in the dim light while Miss Smeardon went

-upstairs to write a letter.

-

-"Aunt de Tracy," Robinette began, "I was calling on Mrs. Prettyman

-just after you had been with her this afternoon, and do you know the

-dear old soul had taken the strangest idea into her head! She says you

-are going to ask her to leave the cottage."

-

-"The land on which her cottage stands is about to be sold," said Mrs.

-de Tracy. "It is necessary that she should move."

-

-"Yes, she quite understood that; but she thinks she is not going to

-get another house; that was what was distressing her, naturally. Of

-course she hates to leave the old place, but I believe if she gets

-another nicer cottage, that will quite console her," said Robinette

-quickly.

-

-"I have no vacant cottage on the estate just now," said Mrs. de Tracy

-quietly.

-

-"Then what is she to do? Isn't it impossible that she should move

-until another place is made ready for her?" Robinette rose and stood

-beside the table, leaning the tips of her fingers on it in an attitude

-of intense earnestness. She was trying to conceal the anger and dismay

-she felt at her aunt's reply.

-

-"Mrs. Prettyman has relatives at Exeter," said Mrs. de Tracy without

-the quiver of an eyelid.

-

-"Yes; but they are poor. They aren't very near relations, and they

-don't want her. O Aunt de Tracy, is it necessary to make her leave?

-She depends upon the plum tree so! She makes twenty-five dollars a

-year from the jam!"

-

-"Dollars have no significance for me," said Mrs. de Tracy with an icy

-smile.

-

-"Well, pounds then: five pounds she makes. How is she ever going to

-live without that, unless you give her the equivalent? It's half her

-livelihood! I promised you would consider it? Was I wrong?"

-

-Old bitternesses rose in Mrs. de Tracy's heart, the prejudices and the

-grudges of a lifetime. Everything connected with Robinette's mother

-had been wrong in her eyes, and now everything connected with

-Robinette was wrong too, and becoming more so with startling

-rapidity.

-

-"You had no right whatsoever to make any promises on my behalf," she

-now said harshly. "You have acted foolishly and officiously. This is

-no business of yours."

-

-"I'll gladly make it my business if you'll let me, Aunt de Tracy!"

-pleaded Robinette. "If you don't feel inclined to provide for Mrs.

-Prettyman, mayn't I? She is my mother's old nurse and she shan't want

-for anything as long as I have a penny to call my own!" Robinette's

-eyes filled with tears, but Mrs. de Tracy was not a whit moved by this

-show of emotion, which appeared to her unnecessary and theatrical.

-

-"You are forgetting yourself a good deal in your way of speaking to me

-on this subject," she said coldly. "When I behaved unbecomingly in my

-youth, my mother always recommended me to go upstairs, shut myself up

-alone in my room, and collect my thoughts. The process had invariably

-a calming effect. I advise you to try it."

-

-Robinette did not need to be proffered the hint twice. She rushed out

-of the room like a whirlwind, not looking where she went. In the hall,

-she came face to face with Lavendar, who had just left the dining

-room.

-

-"Mr. Lavendar!" she cried. "Do go into the drawing room and speak to

-my aunt. Preach to her! Argue with her! Convince her that she can't

-and mustn't act in this way; can't go and turn Mrs. Prettyman out, and

-rob her of the plum tree, and leave her with hardly a penny in the

-world or a roof over her head!"

-

-"It's not a very pretty or a very pleasant business, Mrs. Loring, I

-admit," said Lavendar quietly.

-

-"Is it English law?" cried Robinette with indignation. "If it is, I

-call it mean and unjust!"

-

-"Sometimes the laws seem very hard," said Lavendar. "I'd like to

-discuss this affair with you quietly another time."

-

-As he spoke, Carnaby appeared and wanted to be told what the matter

-was, but Robinette discovered that it is not very easy to criticise a

-grandmother to her youthful grandson, more especially when the lady in

-question is your hostess.

-

-"Aunt de Tracy and I have had a little difference of opinion about

-Mrs. Prettyman and her cottage, and the plum tree," she said to the

-boy quietly, and Lavendar nodded approval.

-

-"Prettyman's got the sack, hasn't she?" Carnaby enquired with a boy's

-carelessness.

-

-Robinette looked very grave. "My dear old nurse is to leave her

-cottage," she said with a quiver in her voice. "She's to lose her plum

-tree--"

-

-"But of course she'll get compensation," cried Carnaby.

-

-"No, Middy; she's to get no compensation," said Robinette in a low

-voice.

-

-"Well, I call that jolly hard! It's a beastly shame," said Carnaby,

-evidently pricking up his ears and with a sudden frown that changed

-his face. "I say, Mark--" But Lavendar did not think the moment

-suitable for a discussion of Mrs. Prettyman's wrongs. Besides, he did

-not wish Robinette to be banished from the drawing room for a whole

-interminable evening. He contrived to silence Carnaby for the time

-being.

-

-"Let's bury the hatchet for a little while," he suggested. "Have you

-forgotten, Mrs. Loring, that I made Mrs. de Tracy promise to show off

-the Stoke Revel jewels for your benefit this very night?"

-

-"O! but now I'm in disgrace, she won't!" said Robinette.

-

-"Yes, she will!" said Carnaby. "Nothing puts the old lady in such a

-heavenly temper as showing off the jewels. Don't you miss it, Cousin

-Robin! It's like the Tower of London and Madam Tussaud's rolled into

-one, this show, I can assure you. Come on! Come back into the drawing

-room. Needn't be afraid when Mark's there!"

-

-Robinette found that a black look or two was all that she had to fear

-from Mrs. de Tracy at present, and even these became less severe

-under the alchemy of Lavendar's tact. A reminder that an exhibition of

-the jewelry had been promised was graciously received. Bates and

-Benson were summoned, and armed with innumerable keys, they descended

-to subterranean regions where safes were unlocked and jewel-boxes

-solemnly brought into the drawing room. Mrs. de Tracy wore an air

-almost devotional, as she unlocked the final receptacles with keys

-never allowed to leave her own hands.

-

-"If the proceedings had begun with prayer and ended with a hymn, it

-wouldn't have surprised me in the least!" Robinette said to herself,

-looking silently on. Her silence, luckily for her, was taken for the

-speechlessness of awe, and did a good deal to make up, in the eyes of

-her august relative, for her late indiscretions. As a matter of fact,

-her irreverent thoughts were mostly to the effect that all but the

-historical pieces of the Stoke Revel _corbeille_ would be the better

-of re-setting by Tiffany or Cartier.

-

-Mrs. de Tracy opened an old shagreen case and the firelight flickered

-on the diamonds of a small tiara.

-

-"This is a part of the famous Montmorency set," she announced proudly,

-with the tone of a Keeper of Regalia. Then she took out a rope of

-pearls ending in tassels. "These belonged to Marie Antoinette," she

-said.

-

-An emerald set was next produced, and the emeralds, it was explained,

-had once adorned a crown. Deep green they were, encrusted in their

-diamond setting; costly, unique; but they left Robinette cold, though

-like most American women, she loved precious stones as an adornment.

-One of those emeralds, she was thinking, was worth fifty times more

-than old Lizzie Prettyman's cottage: the sale of one of them would

-have averted that other sale which was to cause so much distress to a

-poor harmless old woman.

-

-"When do you wear your jewels, Aunt de Tracy?" she asked gravely.

-

-"I have not worn them since the Admiral's death," was the virtuous

-reply, "and I have never called or considered them mine, Robinetta.

-They are the de Tracy jewels. When Carnaby takes his place as the head

-of the house, they will be his. He will see that his wife wears them

-on the proper occasions."

-

-"Carnaby's wife!" thought Robinette. "Why! she mayn't be born! He may

-never have a wife! And to think of all those precious stones hiding

-their brightness in these boxes like prisoners in a dungeon for years

-and years, only to be let out now and then by Bates and Benson,

-jingling their keys like jailers! And this house is a prison too!" she

-said to herself; "a prison for souls!" and the thought of its hoarded

-wealth made her indignant; all this hidden treasure in a house where

-there was never enough to eat, where guests shivered in fireless

-bedrooms, where servants would not stay because they were starved! And

-Carnaby, too, whose youth was being embittered by unnecessary

-economies: Carnaby, who had so little pocket-money that he was a

-laughing-stock among his fellows--it was for Carnaby these sacrifices

-were being made! Strange traditions! Fetiches of family pride almost

-as grotesque to her thinking as those of any savages under the sun.

-

-"My poor dear Middy!" she thought. "What chance has he, brought up in

-an atmosphere like this?" But she happened to raise her eyes at the

-moment, and to see the actual Carnaby of the moment, not the Carnaby

-her gloomy imagination was evoking from the future with the "petty

-hoard of maxims preaching down" his heart. He had contrived to get

-hold of the Marie Antoinette pearls without his grandmother's

-knowledge and to hang them around his neck; he had poised the

-Montmorency tiara on his own sleek head; he had forced a heavy

-bracelet by way of collar round Rupert's throat, and now with that

-choking and goggling unfortunate held partner-wise in his arms, he was

-waltzing on tiptoe about the farther drawing room behind the

-unconscious backs of Mrs. de Tracy and Miss Smeardon.

-

-"He's only a careless boy," thought Robinette, "a happy-go-lucky,

-devil-may-care, hare-brained youngster. They can't have poisoned his

-nature yet, and I'm sure he has a good heart. If he were at the head

-of affairs at Stoke Revel instead of his grandmother, I wonder what

-would be done in the matter of my poor old nurse?" Robinette stood in

-the doorway for a moment before going up to her room. Her whole

-attitude spoke depression as Carnaby stole up behind her.

-

-"See here, Cousin Robin, I can't bear to have you go on like this.

-Don't take Prettyman's trouble so to heart. We'll do something! I'll

-do something myself! I have a happy thought."

-

-

-

-

-XIX

-

-LAWYER AND CLIENT

-

-

-Robinette had a bad night after the jewel exhibition, and a heavy head

-and aching eyes prompted her to ask Little Cummins to bring her

-breakfast to her bedroom.

-

-It was touching to see that small person hovering over Robinette:

-stirring the fire, sweeping the hearth, looping back the curtains,

-tucking the slippers out of sight, and moving about the room like a

-mother ministering to an ailing child. Finally she staggered in with

-the heavy breakfast tray that she had carried through long halls and

-up the stairs, and put it on the table by the bed.

-

-"There's a new-laid egg, ma'am, that cook 'ad for the mistress, but I

-thought you needed it more; an' I brewed the tea meself, to be sure,"

-she cooed; "an' I've spread the loaf same as you like, an' cut the

-bread thin, an' 'ere's one o' the roses you allers wears to breakfast;

-an' wouldn't your erming coat be a comfort, ma'am?"

-

-"Dear Little Cummins! How did you know I needed comfort? How did you

-guess I was homesick?"

-

-Robinette leaned her head against the housemaid's rough hand, always

-stained with black spots that would give way to no scrubbing. From

-morning to night she was in the coal scuttle or the grate or the

-saucer of black lead, for she did nothing but lay fires, light fires,

-feed fires, and tidy up after fires, for eight or nine months of the

-year.

-

-"You mustn't touch me, ma'am; I ain't fit; there's smut on me, an'

-hashes, this time o' day," said Little Cummins.

-

-"I don't care. I like you better with ashes than lots of people

-without. You mustn't stay in the coal scuttle all your life, Little

-Cummins; you must be my chambermaid some of these days when we can get

-a good substitute for Mrs. de Tracy. Would you like that, if the

-mistress will let you go?"

-

-Little Cummins put her apron up to her eyes, and from its depths came

-inarticulate bursts of gratitude and joy. Then peeping from it just

-enough to see the way to the door, she ran out like a hare and

-secluded herself in the empty linen-room until she was sufficiently

-herself to join the other servants.

-

-Robinette finished her breakfast and dressed. She had lacked courage

-to meet the family party, although she longed for a talk with Mark

-Lavendar. It was entirely normal, feminine, and according to all law,

-human and divine, but it appealed also to her sense of humour, that

-she should feel that this new man-friend could straighten out all the

-difficulties in the path. She waited patiently at her window until she

-saw him walk around the corner of the house, under the cedars, and up

-the twisting path, his head bent and bare, his hands in his pockets.

-Then she flung her blue cape over her shoulders and followed him.

-

-"Mr. Lavendar," she called, as she caught up with his slow step, "you

-said you would advise me a little. Let us sit on this bench a moment

-and find out how we can untangle all the knots into which Aunt de

-Tracy tied us yesterday. I am so afraid of her that I am sure I spoke

-timidly and respectfully to her at first; but perhaps I showed more

-feeling at the end than I should. I am willing to apologize to her for

-any lack of courtesy, but I don't see how I can retract anything I

-said."

-

-"It is hard for you," Lavendar replied, "because you have a natural

-affection for your mother's old nurse; and Mrs. de Tracy, I begin to

-believe, is more than indifferent to her. She has some active dislike,

-perhaps, the source of which is unknown to us."

-

-"But she is so unjust!" cried Robinette. "I never heard of an Irish

-landlord in a novel who would practice such a piece of eviction. If I

-must stand by and see it done, then I shall assert my right to provide

-for Nurse and move her into a new dwelling. After you left the drawing

-room last night, I begged as tactfully as I could that Aunt de Tracy

-would sell me some of the jewels, so that she need not part with the

-land at Wittisham. She was very angry, and wouldn't hear of it. Then I

-proposed buying the plum-tree cottage, that it might be kept in the

-family, and she was furious at my audacity. Perhaps the Admiral's

-niece is _not_ in the family."

-

-"She cannot endure anything like patronage, or even an assumption of

-equality," said Lavendar. "You must be careful there."

-

-"Should I be likely to patronize?" asked Robinette reproachfully.

-

-"No; but your acquaintance with your aunt is a very brief one, and she

-is an extraordinary character; hard to understand. You may easily

-stumble on a prejudice of hers at every step."

-

-"I shouldn't like to understand her any better than I do now," and

-Robinette pushed back her hair rebelliously.

-

-"Will you be my client for about five minutes?" asked Lavendar.

-

-"Yes, willingly enough, for I see nothing before me but to take Nurse

-Prettyman and depart in the first steamer for America."

-

-Mrs. Loring looked as if she were quite capable of this rather radical

-proceeding, and very much, too, as if any growing love for Lavendar

-that she might have, would easily give way under this new pressure of

-circumstances.

-

-"This is the situation in a nutshell," said Lavendar, filling his

-pipe. "Mrs. de Tracy is entirely within her legal rights when she asks

-Mrs. Prettyman to leave the cottage; legally right also when she

-declines to give compensation for the plum tree that has been a source

-of income; financially right moreover in selling cottage and land at a

-fancy price to find money for needed improvements on the estate."

-

-"None of this can be denied, I allow."

-

-"All these legal rights could have been softened if Mrs. de Tracy had

-been willing to soften them, but unfortunately she has been put on the

-defensive. She did not like it when I opposed her in the first place.

-She did not like it when my father advised her to make some small

-settlement, as he did, several days ago. She resented Mrs. Prettyman's

-assumption of owning the plum tree; she was outraged at your valiant

-espousing of your nurse's cause."

-

-"I see; we have simply made her more determined in her injustice."

-

-"Now it is all very well for you to show your mettle," Lavendar went

-on, "for you to endure your aunt's displeasure rather than give up a

-cause you know to be just; but look where it lands us."

-

-Robinette raised her troubled eyes to Lavendar's, giving a sigh to

-show she realized that her landing-place would be wherever the lawyer

-fixed it, not where she wished it.

-

-"Go on," she sighed patiently.

-

-"Your legal adviser regards it as impossible that you should come over

-from America and quarrel with your mother's family;--your only family,

-in point of fact. If this affair is fought to a finish you will feel

-like leaving your aunt's house."

-

-"I shouldn't have to wait for that feeling," said Robinette

-irrepressibly. "Aunt de Tracy would have it first!"

-

-"In such an event I could and would stand by you, naturally."

-

-"_Would_ you?" cried Robinette glowing instantly like a jewel.

-

-Lavendar looked at her in amazement. "Pray what do you take me for? On

-whose side could I, should I be, my dear--my dear Mrs. Loring? But to

-keep to business. In the event stated above, neither my father nor I

-could very well continue to have charge of the estate. That is a small

-matter, but increases the difficulties, owing to a long friendship

-dating back to the Admiral's time. Then we have Carnaby. Carnaby, my

-dear Mrs. Loring, belongs to you. Do you want to give him up? He

-adores you and you will have an unbounded influence on him, if you

-choose to exercise it."

-

-"How can I influence Carnaby--in America?"

-

-This was a blow, but Lavendar made no sign. "You may not always be in

-America," he said. "Now why not let Mrs. de Tracy sell the land and

-cottage and plum tree in the ordinary course of things? Oh, how I wish

-_I_ could buy the blessed thing!" he exclaimed, parenthetically.

-

-"Oh! how I wish _I_ could buy the plum tree, and keep it, always

-blossoming, in my morning-room!" sighed Robinette.

-

-"But unfortunately, Waller R. A. will buy the plum tree, confound him!

-Now, just after Mrs. de Tracy has definitely sold the premises and all

-their appurtenances, suppose you, in your prettiest and most docile

-way (docility not being your strong point!) ask your aunt if she has

-any objection to your taking care of Mrs. Prettyman during the few

-years remaining to her. Meantime keep her from irritating Mrs. de

-Tracy, and make the poor old dear happy with plans for her future. If

-you are short on docility you are long on making people happy!"

-

-"Never did I hear such an argument! It would make Macduff fall into

-the arms of Macbeth; it would tranquillize the Kilkenny cats

-themselves! I'll run in and apologize abjectly to my thrice guilty

-aunt, then I'll reward myself by going over to Wittisham."

-

-"If you'll take the ferry over, I'd like to come and fetch you if I

-may. That shall be my reward."

-

-"Reward for what?"

-

-"For giving you advice very much against my personal inclinations.

-Courses of action founded entirely on policy do not appeal to me very

-strongly."

-

-

-

-

-XX

-

-THE NEW HOME

-

-

-It was in rather a chastened spirit that Robinette set off to see Mrs.

-Prettyman. "I've been foolish, I've been imprudent; oh! dear me! I've

-still so much to learn!" she sighed to herself. "No good is ever done

-by losing one's temper; it only puts everything wrong. I shall have to

-try and take Mr. Lavendar's advice. I must be very prudent with Nurse

-this morning--never show her that I think Aunt de Tracy is in the

-wrong; just persuade her ever so gently to move to another home, and

-arrange with her where it is to be."

-

-It is always difficult for an impetuous nature like Robinette's to

-hold back about anything. She would have liked to run straight into

-Mrs. Prettyman's room, and, flinging her arms round the old woman's

-neck, cry out to her that everything was settled. And instead she

-must come to the point gently, prudently, wisely, "like other people"

-as she said to herself.

-

-The cottage seemed very still that afternoon, and Robinette knocked

-twice before she heard the piping old voice cry out to her to come

-in.

-

-"Why, Nurse dear, where are you? Were you asleep?" Robinette said as

-she entered, for Mrs. Prettyman was not sitting in the fine new chair.

-Then she found that the voice answered from the little bedroom off the

-kitchen, and that the old woman was in bed.

-

-"I ain't ill, so to speak, dear, just weary in me bones," she

-explained, as Robinette sat down beside her. "And Mrs. Darke, me

-neighbour, she sez to me, 'You do take the day in bed, Mrs. Prettyman,

-me dear, an' I'll do your bit of work for 'ee'--so 'ere I be, Missie,

-right enough."

-

-"I'm afraid you were worried yesterday," said Robinette; "worried

-about leaving the house."

-

-"I were, Missie, I were," she confessed.

-

-"That's why I came to-day; you must stop worrying, for I've settled

-all about it. I spoke to my aunt last night, and it's true that you

-have to leave this house; but now I've come to make arrangements with

-you about a new one."

-

-The old woman covered her face with her hands and gave a little cry

-that went straight to Robinette's heart.

-

-"Lor' now, Miss, 'ow am I ever to leave this place where I've been all

-these years? I thought yesterday as you said 'twas a mistake I'd

-made."

-

-"But alas, it wasn't altogether a mistake," Robinette had to confess

-sadly, her eyes filling with tears as she realized how she had only

-doubled her old friend's disappointment. Then she sat forward and took

-Mrs. Prettyman's hand in hers.

-

-"Nursie dear," she said, "I don't want you to grieve about leaving

-the old home, for it isn't an awfully good one; the new one is going

-to be ever so much better!"

-

-"That's so, I'm sure, dearie, only 'tis _new_," faltered Mrs.

-Prettyman. "If you're spared to my age, Missie, you'll find as new

-things scare you."

-

-"Ah, but not a new house, Nursie! Wait till I describe it! Everything

-strong and firm about it, not shaking in the storms as this one

-does; nice bright windows to let in all the sunshine; so no more

-'rheumatics' and no more tears of pain in your dear old eyes!"

-

-Robinette's voice failed suddenly, for it struck her all in a moment

-that her glowing description of the new home seemed to have in it

-something prophetic. That bent little figure beside her, these shaking

-limbs and dim old eyes,--all this house of life, once so carefully

-builded, was crumbling again into the dust, and its tenant indeed

-wanted a new one, quite, quite different! A sob rose in Robinette's

-throat, but she swallowed it down and went on gaily.

-

-"I've settled about another thing, too; you're to have another plum

-tree, or life wouldn't be the same thing to you. And you know they can

-transplant quite big trees now-a-days and make them grow wonderfully.

-Some one was telling me all about how it is done only a few days ago.

-They dig them up ever so carefully, and when they put them into the

-new hole, every tiny root is spread out and laid in the right

-direction in the ground, and patted and coaxed in, and made firm, and

-they just catch hold on the soil in the twinkle of an eye. Isn't it

-marvellous? Well, I'll have a fine new tree planted for you so

-cleverly that perhaps by next year you'll be having a few plums, who

-knows? And the next year more plums! And the next year, jam!"

-

-"'Twill be beautiful, sure enough," said the old woman, kindling at

-last under the description of all these joys. "And do you think,

-Missie, as the new cottage will really be curing of me rheumatics?"

-

-"Why yes, Nurse. Whoever heard of rheumatism in a dry new house?"

-

-"The house be new, but the rheumatics be old," said Mrs. Prettyman

-sagely.

-

-"Well, we can't make _you_ entirely new, but we'll do our best. I'm

-going to enquire about a nice cottage not very far from here; there's

-plenty of time before this one is sold. It shall be dry and warm and

-cosy, and you will feel another person in it altogether."

-

-"These new houses be terrible dear, bain't they?" the old woman said

-anxiously.

-

-"Not a bit; besides that's another matter I want to settle with you,

-Nursie. I'm going to pay the rent always, and you're going to have a

-nice little girl to help you with the work, and there will be

-something paid to you each month, so that you won't have any

-anxiety."

-

-"Oh, Missie, Missie, whatever be you sayin'? _Me_ never to have no

-anxiety again!"

-

-"You never shall, if I can help it; old people should never have

-worries; that's what young people are here for, to look after them and

-keep them happy."

-

-Mrs. Prettyman lay back on the pillow and gazed at Robinette

-incredulously; it wasn't possible that such a solution had come to all

-her troubles. For seventy odd years she had worked and struggled and

-sometimes very nearly starved and here was some one assuring her that

-these struggles were over forever, that she needn't work hard any

-more, or ever worry again. Could it be true? And all to come from Miss

-Cynthia's daughter!

-

-Robinette bent down and kissed the wrinkled old face softly.

-

-"Good-night, Nursie dear," she said. "I'm not going to stay any longer

-with you to-day, because you're tired. Have a good sleep, and waken up

-strong and bright."

-

-"Good-night, Missie, good-night, dear," the old woman said. Her face

-had taken on an expression of such peacefulness as it had never worn

-before.

-

-She turned over on her pillow and closed her eyes, scarcely waiting

-for Robinette to leave the room.

-

-"I've been allowed to do that, anyway," Robinette said to herself,

-standing in the doorway to look back at the quiet sleeper, and then

-looking forward to a little boat nearing the shore. The cottage

-sheltered almost the only object that connected her with her past; the

-boat, she felt, held all her future.

-

-                  *       *       *       *       *

-

-The river, when Lavendar rowed himself across it, was very quiet. "The

-swelling of Jordan," as Robinette called the rising tide, was over;

-now the glassy water reflected every leaf and twig from the trees that

-hung above its banks and dipped into it here and there.

-

-Mooring his boat at the landing, Mark sauntered up to Mrs. Prettyman's

-cottage, and having tapped lightly at the door to let Mrs. Loring

-know of his arrival, as they had agreed he should do, he went along

-the flagged pathway into the garden, and sat down on the edge of the

-low wall that divided it from the river. Just in front of him was the

-little worn bench where he had first seen Robinette as she sat beside

-her old nurse with the tiny shoe on her lap. It was scarcely a

-fortnight ago; yet it seemed to him that he could hardly remember the

-kind of man he had been that afternoon; a new self, full of a new

-purpose, and at that moment of a new hope, had taken the place of the

-objectless being he had been before.

-

-Everything was very still; there was scarcely a sound from the village

-or from the shipping farther down the river. Lavendar fancied he heard

-Robinette's clear voice within the cottage; then he started suddenly

-and the blood rushed to his heart as he listened to her light steps

-coming along the paved footpath.

-

-"Here you are!" she whispered. "Let us not speak too loud, for Nurse

-was just dropping asleep when I left her. I've put a table-cover and

-a blanket over 'Mrs. Mackenzie' to keep her from quacking. Mrs.

-Prettyman has not been very well, poor dear, and is in bed. We've just

-talked about the lovely new home she's going to have, and the

-transplanted plum tree; small, but warranted to bear in a year or two

-and give plums and jam like this one. I left her so happy!"

-

-She stopped and looked up. "Oh! can any new tree be as beautiful as

-this one? Was ever anything in the world more exquisite? It has

-just come to its hour of perfection, Mr. Lavendar; it couldn't

-last,--anything so lovely in a passing world."

-

-She sat down on the low wall, and looked up at the tree. It stood and

-shone there in its perfect hour. Another day, and the blossoms, too

-fully blown, would begin to drift upon the ground with every little

-shaking wind; now it was at its zenith, a miracle of such white beauty

-that it caused the heart to stop and consider. Bees and butterflies

-hummed and flew around it; it cast a delicate shadow on the grass, and

-leaning across the wall it was imaged again in the river like a bride

-in her looking-glass.

-

-Robinette sat gazing at the tree, and Lavendar sat gazing at her. At

-that moment he "feared his fate too much" to break the silence by any

-question that might shatter his hope, as the first breeze would break

-the picture that had taken shape in the glassy water beneath them.

-

-"I feel in a better temper now," said Robinette. "Who could be angry,

-and look at that beautiful thing? I've left dear old Nurse quite happy

-again, and I haven't yet offended Aunt de Tracy irrevocably, and all

-because you persuaded me not to be unreasonable. All the same I could

-do it again in another minute if I let myself go. Doesn't injustice

-ever make people angry in England?"

-

-Lavendar laughed. "It often makes me feel angry, but I've never found

-that throwing the reins on the horses' necks when they wanted to

-bolt, made one go along the right road any faster in the end."

-

-"I often think," said Robinette, "if we could see people really angry

-and disagreeable before we--" She hesitated and added, "get to know

-them well, we should be so much more careful."

-

-"Yes," said Mark, bending down his head and speaking very deliberately,

-"that's why I wish you could have seen me in all my worst moments.

-I'd stand the shame of it, if you could only know, but, alas, one

-can't show off one's worst moments to order; they must be hit upon

-unexpectedly."

-

-"I don't believe thirty years of life would teach one about some

-people--they are so _crevicey_," said Robinette musingly. She had

-risen and leaned against the plum tree for a moment, looking up

-through the white branches.

-

-Lavendar rose and stood beside her. "Thirty years--I shall be getting

-on to seventy in thirty years."

-

-A little gust of wind shook the tree; some petals came drifting down

-upon them, like white moths, like flakes of summer snow, a warning

-that the brief hour of perfection would soon be past ... and under it

-human creatures were talking about thirty years!

-

-

-

-

-XXI

-

-CARNABY CUTS THE KNOT

-

-

-That afternoon, Carnaby was having what he called "an absolutely

-mouldy time," and since his leave was running out and his remaining

-afternoons were few, he considered himself an injured individual.

-Robinette and Lavendar seemed for ever preoccupied either with each

-other or with some subject of discussion, the ins and outs of which

-they had not confided to him.

-

-"It's partly that blessed plum tree," he said to himself; "but of

-course they're spooning too. Very likely they're engaged by this time.

-Didn't I tell her she'd marry again? Well, if she must, it might as

-well be old Lavendar as anyone else. He's a decent chap, or he was,

-before he fell in love."

-

-Carnaby sighed. This effort of generosity towards his rival made him

-feel peculiarly disconsolate. He had fished and rowed on the river all

-the morning; he had ferreted; he had fed Rupert with a private

-preparation of rabbits which infallibly made him sick, the desired

-result being obtained with almost provoking celerity. Thus even

-success had palled, and Carnaby's sharp and idle wits had begun to

-work on the problem which seemed to be occupying his elders. Neither

-Robinette nor Lavendar could expatiate to the boy on his grandmother's

-peculiarities, but Carnaby had contrived to find out for himself how

-the land lay.

-

-"Why is Waller R. A. so keen on the plum tree?" he had enquired.

-

-"He wants to make a quartette of studies," answered Lavendar. "The

-Plum Tree in spring, summer, autumn, and winter."

-

-"What a rotten idea!" said Carnaby simply.

-

-"Far from rotten, my young friend, I can assure you!" Lavendar

-returned. "It will furnish coloured illustrations for countless

-summer numbers of the _Graphic_ and _The Lady's Pictorial_, and fill

-Waller R. A.'s pockets with gold, some of which will shortly filter in

-advance into the Stoke Revel banking account, we hope."

-

-"I'm not so sure about that!" said Carnaby; but he said it to himself,

-while aloud he only asked with much apparent innocence, "Waller R. A.

-wouldn't look at the cottage or the land without the plum tree, I

-suppose?"

-

-"Certainly not," Lavendar had answered. "The plum tree is safeguarded

-in the agreement as I'm sure no plum tree ever was before. Waller R.

-A.'s no fool!"

-

-Digesting this information and much else that he had gleaned, Carnaby

-now climbed to the top of a tree where he had a favourite perch, and

-did some serious and simple thinking.

-

-"It's a beastly shame," he said to himself, "to turn that old woman

-out of her cottage. Cousin Robin thinks it's a beastly shame, and

-what's more, Mark does, and he's a man, and a lawyer into the

-bargain."

-

-Carnaby thought remorsefully of a pot of jam which old Mrs. Prettyman

-had given him once to take back to college. What good jam it had

-been, and how large the pot! He had never given her anything--he had

-never a penny to bless himself with; and now his grandmother was

-taking away from the poor old creature all that she had. "It's

-regular covetousness," he thought, "and that infernal plum tree's at

-the bottom of it all. Naboth's vineyard is a joke in comparison, and

-What's-his-name and the one ewe lamb simply aren't in it." He grew

-hot with mortification. Then he reflected, "If the plum tree weren't

-there, Waller R. A. wouldn't want the cottage, and old Mrs. Prettyman

-could live in it till the end of the chapter." A slow grin dawned upon

-his face, its most mischievous expression, the one which Rupert with

-canine sagacity had learned to dread. He felt and pinched the

-muscle of his arm fondly. (_Mussle_ he always spelled the word

-himself, upon phonetic principles.)

-

-"I may be a fool and a minor" (generally spelt _miner_ by him), he

-said, as he climbed down from his perch, "but at least I can cut down

-a tree!"

-

-He became lost to view forthwith in the workshops and tool-sheds

-attached to the home premises of Stoke Revel, and presently emerged,

-furnished with the object he had made diligent and particular search

-for; this he proceeded to carry in an inconspicuous way to a distant

-cottage where he knew there was a grindstone. He spent a happy hour

-with the object, the grindstone, and a pail of water. _Whirr_,

-_whirr_, _whirr_, sang the grindstone, now softly, now loudly--"_this

-is an axe, an axe, an axe, and a strong arm that holds it_!"

-

-"You be goin' to do a bit of forestry on your own, Master Carnaby,

-eh?" suggested the grinning owner of the grindstone.

-

-"I am; a very particular bit, Jones!" replied the young master,

-lovingly feeling the edge of the tool, which was now nearly as fine as

-that of a razor.

-

-"You be careful, sir, as you don't chop off one of your own toes with

-that there axe," said the man. "It be full heavy for one o' your age.

-But there! you zailor-men be that handy! 'Tis your trade, so to

-speak!"

-

-"Quite right, Jones, it is!" replied Carnaby. "Good-afternoon and

-thank you for the use of the grindstone." He was already planning

-where he would hide the axe, for he had precise ideas about everything

-and left nothing to chance.

-

-Carnaby went to bed that night at his usual hour. His profession had

-already accustomed him to awaking at odd intervals, and he had more

-than the ordinary boy's knowledge of moon and tide, night and dawn.

-When he slipped out of bed after a few hours of sound sleep, he put on

-a flannel shirt and trousers and a broad belt, and then, carrying his

-boots in his hand, crept out of his room and through the sleeping

-house. He would much rather have climbed out of the window, in a

-manner more worthy of such an adventure, but his return in that

-fashion might offer dangers in daylight. So he was content with an

-unfrequented garden door which he could leave on the latch.

-

-The moon, which had been young when she lighted the lovers in the

-mud-bank adventure, was now a more experienced orb and shed a useful

-light. Carnaby intended to cross the river in a small tub which was

-propelled by a single oar worked at the stern, the rower standing.

-This craft was intended for pottering about the shore; to cross the

-river in it was the dangerous feat of a skilled waterman, but Carnaby

-had a knack of his own with every floating thing. As he balanced

-himself in the rocking tub, bare-headed, bare-necked, bare-armed,

-paddling with the grace and ease of strength and training, he looked

-a man, but a man young with the youth of the gods. The moon shone in

-his keen grey eyes and made them sparkle. A cold sea-wind blew up the

-river, but he did not feel its chill, for blood hot with adventure

-raced in his veins.

-

-Wittisham was in profound darkness when he landed, and the moon having

-gone behind a bank of cloud, he had to grope his way to Mrs.

-Prettyman's cottage, shouldering the axe. The isolated position of the

-house alone made the adventure possible, he reflected; he could not

-have cut down a tree in the hearing of neighbours, and as to old

-Elizabeth herself, he hoped she was deaf. Most old women were, he

-reflected, except unfortunately his grandmother!

-

-Soon he was entering the little garden and sniffing the scent of

-blossom, which was very strong in the night air. He could see the dim

-outline of the plum tree, and just as he wanted light, the moon came

-out and shone upon its whiteness, giving a sort of spiritual beauty

-to the flowering thing that was very exquisite.

-

-"What price, Waller R. A. now?" thought Carnaby impishly. "The plum

-tree in moonlight! eh? Wouldn't he give his eyes to see it! But he

-won't! Not if I know it!" The boy was as blind to the tree's beauty as

-his grandmother had been, but he had scientific ideas how to cut it

-down, for he had watched the felling of many a tree.

-

-First, standing on a lower branch, you lopped off all the side shoots

-as high as you could reach. This made the trunk easy to deal with, and

-its fall less heavy, and Carnaby set to work.

-

-"She goes through them all as slick as butter!" he said to himself in

-high satisfaction. The axe had assumed a personality to him and was

-"she," not "it." "She makes no more noise than a pair of scissors

-cutting flowers; not half so much!" he said proudly. Branch after

-branch fell down and lay about the tree like the discarded garments of

-a bathing nymph. The petals fell upon Carnaby's face, upon his hair

-and shoulders; he was a white figure as he toiled. Frightened birds

-and bats flew about, but he did not notice them. His only care was the

-cottage itself and its inmate. If _she_ should awake! But the little

-habitation, shrouded in thatch and deep in shadow, was dark and silent

-as the grave.

-

-"She must be sound asleep and deaf," thought the boy. "Yes, very

-deaf." He paused. The first stage in his task was accomplished.

-Shivering and naked, one absurd tuft of blossom and leaves at the

-tip--the murdered tree now stood in the moonlight, imploring the _coup

-de grâce_ which should end its shame.

-

-"Jolly well done," said the murderer complacently. He stretched his

-arms, looked at the palms of his hands to see if they had blistered,

-and addressed himself to the second part of his business. Thud! thud!

-went the axe on the trunk of the tree, and the sweat broke out all

-over Carnaby's skin, not with exertion but with nervous terror.

-

-"If that doesn't wake the dead!" he thought--but there was no awaking

-in the cottage. Its tiny window blinked in the moonlight, and Carnaby

-thought he heard the drowsy quack of a duck in an out-house. But the

-danger passed. Thud! went the axe again. The slim severed shaft of the

-tree was poised a moment, motionless, erect before it fell. Then it

-subsided gently among its broken and trodden boughs, and Carnaby's

-task was done.

-

-

-

-

-XXII

-

-CONSEQUENCES

-

-

-Early that morning before the sun had risen, when the light was still

-grey in the coming dawn, Robinette was awakened by a bird that called

-out from a tree close to her open window, every note like the striking

-of a golden bell. She jumped up and looked out, but the little singer,

-silenced, had flown away. Instead, she caught sight of a figure

-stealing across the lawn towards the side door which opened from the

-library. Even in the dim light she could distinguish that it was

-Carnaby, Carnaby with something in his hand. What he carried she could

-not quite make out, but the sleeves of his flannel shirt were rolled

-up above his elbows in a fatally business-like way, and he walked with

-an air of stealth.

-

-"What mischief can that boy have been up to at this time of day?"

-thought Robinette as she lay down again, but she was too sleepy to

-wonder long.

-

-She forgot all about it until she saw Carnaby at the breakfast table

-some hours later. Sometimes the gloom of that meal--never a favorite

-or convivial one in the English household, and most certainly neither

-at Stoke Revel--would be enlivened by some of the boy's pranks. He

-would pass over to the sideboard, pepper-pot slyly in hand, and

-Rupert, whose meal at this hour consisted of grape-nuts and cream,

-would unaccountably sneeze and snuffle over his plate.

-

-"Bless it, Bobs!" his tormentor would exclaim tenderly. "Is it

-catching cold? Poor old Kitchener! Hi! _Kitch!_ _Kitch!_" (like a

-violent sneeze) and the outraged Rupert would forget grape-nuts and

-pepper alike in a fit of impotent fury. But this morning the dog fed

-in peace and Carnaby never glanced at him or his basin. Robinette,

-looking at the boy and remembering where she had seen him last,

-noticed that he was rather silent, that his cheeks were redder than

-common, and that under his eyes were lines of fatigue not usually

-there.

-

-"What were you doing on the lawn at four o'clock this morning?" she

-began, but checked herself, suddenly thinking that if Carnaby had been

-up to mischief she must not allude to it before his grandmother.

-

-No one had heard her. The meal dragged on. Robinette and Lavendar

-talked little. Miss Smeardon was preoccupied with the sufferings and

-the moods of Rupert. Mrs. de Tracy alone seemed in better spirits than

-usual; she was talkative and even balmy.

-

-"The work at the spinney begins to-day," she observed complacently,

-addressing herself to Lavendar and alluding to the rooting up of an

-old copse and the planting of a new one--an improvement she had long

-planned, though hitherto in vain. "The young trees have arrived."

-

-"But where is the money to come from?" enquired Carnaby suddenly, in

-a sepulchral tone. (His voice was at the disagreeable breaking stage,

-an agony and a shame to himself and always a surprise to others.) His

-grandmother stared: the others, too, looked in astonishment at the

-boy's red face.

-

-"I thought it had all been explained to you, Carnaby," said Mrs. de

-Tracy, "but you take so little interest in the estate that I suppose

-what you have been told went in at one ear and out at the other, as

-usual! It is the sale of land at Wittisham which makes these

-improvements possible, advantages drawn from a painful necessity," and

-the iron woman almost sighed.

-

-"There won't be any sale of land at Wittisham,--at least, not of Mrs.

-Prettyman's cottage," said Carnaby abruptly.

-

-"It is practically settled. The transfers only remain to be signed;

-you know that, Carnaby," said Lavendar curtly. He did not wish the

-vexed question to be raised again at a meal.

-

-"It _was_ practically settled--but it's all off now," said the boy,

-looking hard at his grandmother. "Waller R. A. won't want the place

-any more. The bloomin' plum tree's gone--cut down. The bargain's off,

-and old Mrs. Prettyman can stay on in her cottage as long as she

-likes!"

-

-There was a freezing silence, broken only by the stertorous breathing

-of Rupert on Miss Smeardon's lap.

-

-"Repeat, please, what you have just said, Carnaby," said his

-grandmother with dangerous calmness, "and speak distinctly."

-

-"I said that the cottage at Wittisham won't be sold because the plum

-tree's gone," repeated Carnaby doggedly. "It's been cut down."

-

-"How do you know?"

-

-"I've seen it." Carnaby raised his eyes. "I cut it down myself," he

-added, "this morning before daylight."

-

-"Who put such a thing into your head?" Mrs. de Tracy's words were ice:

-her glance of suspicion at Robinette, like the cold thrust of steel.

-"Who told you to cut the plum tree down?"

-

-"My conscience!" was Carnaby's unexpected reply. He was as red as

-fire, but his glance did not falter. Mrs. de Tracy rose. Not a muscle

-of her face had moved.

-

-"Whatever your action has been, Carnaby," she said with dignity--"whether

-foolish and disgraceful, or criminal and dangerous, it cannot be

-discussed here. You will follow me at once to the library, and

-presently I may send for Mark. A lawyer's advice will probably be

-necessary," she added grimly.

-

-Carnaby said not a word. He opened the door for his grandmother and

-followed her out; but as he passed Robinette, he looked at her

-earnestly, half expecting her applause; for one of the motives in his

-boyish mind had certainly been to please her--to shine in her eyes as

-the doer of bold deeds and to avenge her nurse's wrongs. And all that

-he had managed was to make her cry!

-

-For Robinette had put her elbows on the table and had covered her eyes

-with her hands. As he left the room, Carnaby could hear her

-exclamation:--

-

-"To cut down that tree! That beautiful, beautiful, fruitful thing! O!

-how could anyone do it?"

-

-So this was justice; this was all he got for his pains! How

-unaccountable women were!

-

-Lavendar awaited some time his summons to join Mrs. de Tracy and her

-grandson in what seemed to him must be a portentous interview enough,

-trying meanwhile somewhat unsuccessfully to console Mrs. Loring for

-the destruction of the plum tree, and exchanging with her somewhat

-awe-struck comments on the scene they had both just witnessed. No

-summons came, however; but half an hour later, he came across Carnaby

-alone, and an interview promptly ensued. He wanted to plumb the depth

-of the boy-mind and to learn exactly what motives had prompted

-Carnaby to this sudden and startling action in the matter of the plum

-tree.

-

-"Had you a bad quarter of an hour with your grandmother?" was his

-first question. Carnaby, he thought, looked subdued, and not much

-wonder.

-

-The boy hesitated.

-

-"Not so bad as I expected," was his answer. "The old lady was

-wonderfully decent, for her. She gave me a talking to, of course."

-

-"I should hope so!" interpolated Lavendar drily.

-

-"She jawed away about our poverty," continued Carnaby. "She's got

-that on the brain, as you know. She said that this loss of the

-money--Waller R. A.'s money, she means, of course--is an awful blow.

-She _said_ it was, but it seemed to me--" Carnaby paused, looking

-extremely puzzled.

-

-"It seemed to you--?" prompted Lavendar encouragingly.

-

-"That she wasn't so awfully cut up, after all," said Carnaby. "She

-seemed putting it on, if you know what I mean." Lavendar pricked up

-his ears. Mrs. de Tracy's intense reluctance to sell the land recurred

-to him in a flash. To get her consent had been like drawing a tooth,

-like taking her life-blood drop by drop. Could it be that she was not

-very sorry after all that the scheme had fallen through, secretly

-glad, indeed? It was conceivable that this was Mrs. de Tracy's view,

-but her grandson's motive was still obscure.

-

-"Why did you do it, Carnaby?" Lavendar asked with kindness and gravity

-both in his voice. "You have committed a very mischievous action, you

-know, one that would have borne a harsher name had the transfers been

-signed and had the plum tree changed hands."

-

-"But then I shouldn't have done it--you--you juggins, Mark!" cried the

-boy. "I've no earthly grudge against Waller R. A. If he'd actually

-bought the tree, it would have been too late, and his beastly

-money--"

-

-"You need the money, you know," remarked Lavendar. "Remember that, my

-young friend!"

-

-"It would have been dirty money!" said Carnaby, with a sudden

-flash that lit up his rather heavy face with a new expression.

-"You and Cousin Robin have been jolly polite when you thought I was

-listening, but _I_ know what you really thought, and the kind of

-things you were saying to one another about this business! You

-thought it beastly mean to take the cottage away from old Lizzie

-in the way it was being done, and sheer robbery to deprive her of

-the plum tree without paying her for it. I quite agreed with you

-there, and if I felt like that, do you think I could sit still and

-let the money come in to Stoke Revel--money that had been got in

-such a way? What do you take me for?" Lavendar was silent, looking

-at the boy in surprise. "Oh," continued Carnaby, "how I wish I were

-of age! Then I could show Cousin Robin, perhaps, what an English

-landlord can be! I mean that he can be a friend to his tenants, and

-kind and generous as well as just. As it is, Cousin Robin will go

-back to America and tell her friends what selfish brutes we are

-over here, and how jolly glad she was to get away!"

-

-"Mrs. Loring will carry no tales, I am sure," said Lavendar. "But tell

-me, my dear fellow, did you imagine that Mrs. Prettyman would be a

-gainer by your action?"

-

-"Well, why not?" answered the boy. "Didn't you tell me yourself that

-Waller R. A. wouldn't look at the cottage without the tree? What's to

-prevent the old woman living on where she is? Do you think there'll be

-a rush of new tenants for that precious old hovel? Go on! You know

-better than that!"

-

-"But the tree, Carnaby, the plum tree!" cried Lavendar. "My young

-Goth, hadn't you a moment's compunction? That beautiful, flowering

-thing, as your cousin called it; could you destroy it without a

-pang?"

-

-"The _tree_?" echoed Carnaby with unmeasured scorn. "What's a tree?

-It's just a tree, isn't it?"

-

-                    "A primrose by a river's brim

-                    A yellow primrose was to him,

-                    And it was nothing more!"

-

-quoted Mark, despairingly.

-

-"Well; and what more did he expect of a primrose, whoever the Johnny

-was?" asked the contemptuous Carnaby.

-

-"At any rate," commented Lavendar, "it isn't necessary to search as

-far as Peter Bell for an analogy for your character, my young friend!

-You are your grandmother's grandson after all!"

-

-"In some ways I suppose I can't help being," answered Carnaby soberly,

-"but not in all," he added, and suddenly turning red he fumbled in his

-pocket and produced a coin which he held out to Lavendar. "It's only

-ten bob," he said apologetically, "and I wish it was a jolly sight

-more! But please give it to old Mrs. Prettyman to make up a bit for

-the loss of her plums. Daresay I'll manage some more by and by.

-Anyway, I'll make it up to her when I come of age.--I'm nearly sixteen

-already, you know. Be sure you tell her that!"

-

-But Lavendar refused to take the money.

-

-"Mrs. Prettyman is provided for, my boy," he said. "She has become

-your cousin's especial care. You need have no fear about that. The

-poor old woman is very happy and will have a cottage more suited for

-her rheumatism and her general feebleness than the present one. But I

-think your cousin will understand your motives and believe that you

-meant well by old Lizzie in your little piece of midnight madness."

-

-"Though I was a bit rough on the plum tree!" said Carnaby, with a

-broad smile.

-

-"You think it's a laughing matter?" Lavendar asked indignantly. "I

-wish you had my father to deal with, and Waller R. A.! It's all very

-well for you."

-

-But Carnaby only laughed. The blood was still hot in his veins, and

-the joy of his night's adventure. Mark told him that he and Mrs.

-Loring were crossing the river at once to see for themselves the

-extent of his mischief and what effect it had had upon old Mrs.

-Prettyman. Carnaby observed with diabolical meaning that as he had not

-been invited to join the party, he would make himself scarce.

-Gooseberries, he said, were very good fruit, but he wasn't fond of

-them; so he lounged off with his hands in his pockets. Suddenly he

-turned. "See here, old Mark! You'll speak a word for me with Cousin

-Robin, won't you? It's hard on me to have her hate me when I was

-trying to do my best to please her."

-

-"She won't hate you; she couldn't hate anybody," said Lavendar

-absently, watching first the door and then the window.

-

-"You say that because you're in love with her! I've a couple of eyes

-in my head, stupid as you all think me. You can deny it all you like,

-but you won't convince me!"

-

-"I shan't deny it, Carnaby. I am so much in love with her at this

-moment that the room is whirling round and round and I can see two of

-you!"

-

-"Poor old Mark! Do you think she'll take you on?"

-

-"Can't say, Carnaby!"

-

-"You're a lucky beggar if she does; that's my opinion!" said the boy.

-

-"Put it as strong as you like, Carnaby," Lavendar answered. "You can't

-exaggerate my feelings on that subject!"

-

-"If you hadn't fifteen years' start of me I'd give you a run for your

-money!" exclaimed Carnaby with a daring look.

-

-

-

-

-XXIII

-

-DEATH AND LIFE

-

-

-While these incidents were taking place at the Manor House, village

-life at Wittisham had been stirring for hours. Thin blue threads of

-smoke were rising from the other cottages into the windless air: only

-from Nurse Prettyman's there was none. Duckie in the out-house quacked

-and gabbled as she had quacked and gabbled since the light began, yet

-no one came to let her out and feed her. The halfpenny jug of milk had

-been placed on the doorstep long ago, but Mrs. Prettyman had not yet

-opened the door to take it in.

-

-Outside in the garden, where the plum tree stood yesterday, there was

-now only a stump, hacked and denuded, and round about it a ruin of

-broken branches, leaves, and scattered blossoms. Over the wreck the

-bees were busy still, taking what they could of the honey that

-remained; and in the air was the strong odour of juicy green wood and

-torn bark.

-

-The children who brought the milk were the first to discover what had

-happened, and very soon the news spread amongst the other cottagers.

-Then came two neighbours to the scene, wondering and exclaiming. They

-went to the door, but Mrs. Prettyman did not answer their knock or

-their calling. Mrs. Darke looked in through the tiny window.

-

-"She be sleepin' that peaceful in 'er bed in there," she said, "it 'ud

-be a shame to wake 'er. She's deaf now, and belike she never 'eard the

-tree come down, 'ooever's done it. But I'll go and see after Duckie:

-she's makin' noise enough to rouse 'er, anyway."

-

-Then Duckie was released and fed and departed to gabble her wrongs to

-the other white ducks that were preening themselves amongst the deep

-green grass of the adjacent orchard.

-

-"You can 'ear that bird a mile away--she's never done talking!" said

-Mrs. Darke as the indignant gabble grew fainter in the distance. "But

-'ere's my old man a-come to look at the plum tree. Wonder what he'll

-say to it? This be a queer job, sure enough!"

-

-Old Darke, on two sticks, hobbled towards the scene of desolation with

-grunts of mingled satisfaction and dismay. 'Twas a rare sensation,

-though a pity, to be sure!

-

-Mrs. Darke stood by the well at the turn of the road, keeping a sharp

-eye on the cottage while she gossiped with the neighbour who was

-filling her pitcher. She did not want to miss the sight of Mrs.

-Prettyman's face when she opened her door and found out what had

-happened.

-

-"She be sleepin' too long; I'll go and waken her in a minute," said

-Mrs. Darke. "'Tis but right she should be told what's come to 'er

-tree, poor thing."

-

-Then a beggar woman selling bootlaces came along the shore of the

-river; she mounted the cottage steps and the gossips watched her

-trailing up the pathway in her loose old shoes, and knocking at the

-door. She waited for a few minutes: there was no answer, so she turned

-away resignedly and trailed off along the sun-lit lane, in-shore,

-leaving the garden gate swinging to and fro.

-

-"There's summat the matter!" Mrs. Darke had just whispered with

-evident enjoyment, when some one else was seen approaching the cottage

-from the direction of the pier. It was the young lady from the Manor,

-this time. She wore a white dress and a green scarf, and her face was

-tinted with colour. She looked like a young blossoming tree herself,

-all lacy white and pale green, a strange morning vision in a

-work-a-day world! Robinette ran quickly up the pathway and knocked at

-the door, but there was no answer to her knock. She called out in her

-clear voice:--

-

-"Good morning, Nurse! Good morning! Aren't you ready to let me in?

-It's quite late!" But there was no answer to her call. She was just

-trying to open the door, which seemed to be locked, when a gentleman

-came up from the boat and followed her to the cottage. That, the women

-who were watching her thought quite natural, for surely such a young

-lady would be followed by a lover wherever she went! Indeed, Mrs.

-Darke said so.

-

-"'Tis in that there kind," she observed philosophically, "like the

-cuckoo and the bird that follows; never sees one wi'out the other!"

-

-"'Tis quite that way, Mrs. Darke," agreed the neighbour, approvingly.

-

-Robinette turned a white face to Lavendar as he approached.

-

-"Nurse won't answer, and I can't get in!" she cried. "Something must

-have happened. I--I'm afraid to go in alone. The door is locked,

-too."

-

-"It's not locked," said Lavendar, and exerting a little strength, he

-pushed it open and gave a quick glance inside. "I'll go in first," he

-said gently. "Wait here."

-

-He came again to the threshold in a few minutes, a peculiar expression

-on his face which somehow seemed to tell Robinette what had happened.

-

-"Come in, Mrs. Robin," he said very gravely and gently. "You need not

-be afraid."

-

-Robinette instinctively held out her hand to him and they entered the

-little room together.

-

-She need not have feared for the old woman's distress over the ruined

-plum tree, for nothing would ever grieve Nurse Prettyman again. Just

-as she had lain down the night before, she lay upon her bed now,

-having passed away in her sleep. "And they that encounter Death in

-sleep," says the old writer, "go forth to meet him with desire." The

-aged face was turned slightly upwards and wore a look of contentment

-and repose that made life seem almost gaudy; a cheap thing to compare

-with this attainment....

-

-Robinette came out of the cottage a little later, leaving the

-neighbours who had gathered in the room to their familiar and not

-uncongenial duties. She went into the garden, where Mark Lavendar

-awaited her. He longed to try to comfort her; indeed, his whole heart

-ran out to her in a warmth and passion that astounded him; but her

-pale face, stained with weeping, warned him to keep silence yet a

-little while.

-

-"I just came for one branch of the blossom," Robinette said, "if it is

-not all withered. Yes, this is quite fresh still." She took a little

-spray he had found for her and stood holding it as she spoke. "Only

-yesterday it was all so lovely! Oh! Mr. Lavendar, I needn't cry for my

-old Nurse, I'm sure! How should I, after seeing her face? She had come

-to the end of her long life, and she was very tired, and now all that

-is forgotten, and she will never have a moment of vexation about her

-tree. I don't know why I should cry for her; but oh, how could

-Carnaby destroy that beautiful thing!"

-

-"It was a genuine though mistaken act of conscience! You must not be

-too hard on Carnaby!" pleaded Lavendar. "He would not touch the money

-that was to come from the sale of Mrs. Prettyman's cottage under the

-circumstances, so it seemed best to him that the sale should not take

-place, and he prevented it in the directest and simplest way that

-occurred to him. It's like some of the things that men have done to

-please God, Mrs. Robin," Mark added, smiling, "and thought they were

-doing it, too! But Carnaby only wanted to please you!"

-

-"To _please_ me!" exclaimed Robinette, looking round her at the ruin

-before them. "Oh dear!" she sighed, "how confusing the world is, at

-times! I am just going to take this snowy branch and lay it on Nurse's

-pillow. She so loved her tree! See; it's quite fresh and beautiful,

-and the dew still upon it, just like tears!"

-

-"That seemed just right," said Robinette softly as she came out into

-the sunshine again, a few minutes later. "I laid the blossoms in her

-kind old tired hands, the hands that have known so much work and so

-many pains. It is over, and after all, her new home is better than any

-I could have found for her!"

-

-The two walked slowly down the little garden on their way to the gate.

-As they passed, old Mr. Darke, who had hobbled around again to have

-another look at the fallen tree, addressed Lavendar solemnly.

-

-"Best tree in Wittisham 'e was, sir," touching the ruin of the

-branches as he spoke. "'Ooever could ha' thought o' sich a piece of

-wickedness as to cut 'im down? Murder, I calls it! 'Tis well as Mrs.

-Prettyman be gone to 'er rest wi'out knowledge of it; 'twould 'ave

-broken her old 'eart, for certain sure!"

-

-"It nearly breaks mine to see it now, Mr. Darke!" said Robinette in a

-trembling voice. But the old labourer bent down, moving his creaking

-joints with difficulty and steadying himself upon his sticks till he

-could touch the stump of the tree with his rough but skilful hands. He

-pushed away the long grass that grew about the roots and looked up at

-Robinette with a wise old smile.

-

-"'Tisn't dead and done for yet, Missy, never fear!" he said. "Give 'im

-time; give 'im time! 'E's cut above the graft--see! 'E'll grow and

-shoot and bear blossom and fruit same as ever 'e did, given time. See

-to the fine stock of 'im; firm as a rock in the good ground! And the

-roots, they be sound and fresh. 'E'll grow again, Missy; never you

-cry!"

-

-Robinette looked so beautiful as she lifted her luminous eyes and

-parted lips to old Darke, and then turned to him with a gesture of

-hope and joy, that again Lavendar could hardly keep from avowing his

-love; but the remembrance of the old nurse's still shape in the little

-cottage hushed the words that trembled on his lips.

-

-

-

-

-XXIV

-

-GRANDMOTHER AND GRANDSON

-

-

-The disagreeable duty of announcing Mrs. Prettyman's death to the lady

-of the Manor now lay before Lavendar and his companion, and the

-thought of it weighed upon their spirits as they crossed the river.

-Carnaby also must be told. How would he take it? Robinette, still

-under the shock of the plum tree's undoing, expected perhaps some

-further exhibition of youthful callousness, but Lavendar knew better.

-

-In their concern and sorrow, the young couple had forgotten all minor

-matters such as meals, and luncheon had long been over when they

-reached the house. They could see Mrs. de Tracy's figure in the

-drawing room as they passed the windows, occupying exactly her usual

-seat in her usual attitude. It was her hour for reading and

-disapproving of the daily paper.

-

-Robinette and Lavendar entered quietly, but nothing in the gravity of

-their faces struck Mrs. de Tracy as strange.

-

-"I have a disturbing piece of news to give you," Mark began, clearing

-his throat. "Mrs. Prettyman died last night in her cottage at

-Wittisham."

-

-The erect figure in the widow's weeds remained motionless. Perhaps the

-old hand that lowered the newspaper trembled somewhat, so that its

-diamonds quivered a little more than usual.

-

-"So Mrs. Prettyman is dead?" she said. Then, as the young people stood

-looking at her with an air of some expectancy, she added with a sour

-glance, "Do you expect me to be very much agitated by the news?"

-

-"The death was unexpected," began Lavendar lamely.

-

-"She was seventy-five; my age!" said Mrs. de Tracy with a wintry

-smile. "Is death at seventy-five so unexpected an event?"

-

-Lavendar said nothing; he had nothing to say, and Robinette for

-the same reason was silent. She was gazing at her aunt, almost

-unconsciously, with a wondering look. "At any rate," continued Mrs.

-de Tracy, addressing her niece, "your _protégée_ has been fortunate

-in two ways, Robinette. She will neither be turned out of her

-cottage nor see the destruction of her plum tree. By the way--"

-with a perfectly natural change of tone, dismissing at once both

-Mrs. Prettyman and Death--"the plum tree _is_ down, I suppose? You

-saw it?"

-

-"Very much down!" answered Lavendar. "And certainly we saw it! Carnaby

-does nothing by halves!"

-

-A slight change, a kind of shade of softening, passed over Mrs. de

-Tracy's stern features, as the shadow of a summer cloud may pass over

-a rocky hill. She turned suddenly to Robinette. "Can you tell me on

-your word of honour that you had nothing to do with Carnaby's action;

-that you did not put it into his head to cut the plum tree down!"

-

-"I?" exclaimed Robinette, scarlet with indignation. "_I?_ Why--do you

-want to know what I think of the action? I think it was perfectly

-brutal, and the boy who did it next door to a criminal! There!"

-

-Mrs. de Tracy seemed convinced by the energy of this disclaimer. "I

-have always considered yours a very candid character," she observed

-with condescension. "I believe you when you say that you did not

-influence Carnaby in the matter, though I strongly suspected you

-before."

-

-"Well, upon my word!" ejaculated Robinette when they had got out of

-the room, too completely baffled to be more original. "What does she

-mean? Has any one ever understood the workings of Aunt de Tracy's

-mind?"

-

-"Don't come to me for any more explanations! I've done my best for my

-client!" cried Lavendar. "I give up my brief! I always told you Mrs.

-de Tracy's character was entirely singular."

-

-"Let us hope so!" commented Robinette with energy. "I should be sorry

-for the world if it were plural!"

-

-                  *       *       *       *       *

-

-Carnaby was not in the house, and Lavendar proceeded to look for him

-out of doors. He knew the boy was often to be found in a high part of

-the grounds behind the garden, where he had some special resort of his

-own, and he went there first. The afternoon had clouded over, and a

-slight shower was falling, as Mark followed the wooded path leading up

-hill. A rock-garden bordered it, where ferns and flowers were growing,

-each one of which seemed to be contributing some special and delicate

-fragrance to the damp, warm air. The beech trees here had low and

-spreading branches which framed now and again exquisite glimpses of

-the river far below and the wooded hills beyond it.

-

-Lavendar had not gone far when he found Carnaby, Carnaby intensely

-perturbed, walking up and down by himself.

-

-"You don't need to tell me!" said the boy, with a quick and agitated

-gesture of the hand. "Bates told me. Old Mrs. Prettyman's dead!" His

-merry, square-set face was changed and looked actually haggard, and

-his eyes searched Lavendar's with an expression oddly different from

-their usual fearless and straightforward one. They seemed afraid. "Was

-it my grandmother's--was it our fault?" he asked. "I, I feel like a

-murderer. Upon my soul, I do!"

-

-"Don't encourage morbid ideas, my dear fellow!" said Lavendar in a

-matter-of-fact tone. "There's trouble enough in the world without

-foolish exaggeration. Mrs. Prettyman was 'grave-ripe,' as she often

-said to your cousin; a very feeble old woman, whose time had come. The

-doctor's certificate will tell you how rheumatism had affected her

-heart, and the neighbours would very soon set your mind at rest by

-describing the number of times poor old Lizzie had nearly died

-before."

-

-"Think of it, though!" said Carnaby with wondering eyes. "Think of her

-lying dead in the cottage while I hacked and hewed at the plum tree

-just outside! By Jove! it makes a fellow feel queer!" He shuddered.

-The picture he evoked was certainly a strange one enough: a strange

-picture in the moonlight of a night in spring; the doomed beauty of

-the blossoming tree, the blind, headstrong human energy working for

-its destruction, and Death over all, stealthy and strong!

-

-"What an ass I was!" said Carnaby, summing up the situation in the

-only language in which he could express himself. "Sweating and stewing

-and hacking away--thinking myself so awfully clever! And all the time

-things ... things were being arranged in quite a different manner!"

-

-"We are often made to feel our insignificance in ways like this,"

-said Lavendar. "We are very small atoms, Carnaby, in the path of the

-great forces that sweep us on."

-

-"I should rather think so!" assented the wondering boy. "And yet, can

-a fellow sit tight all the time and just wait till things happen?"

-

-"Ask me something else!" suggested Lavendar ironically.

-

-There was a short pause. "I'm awfully sorry old Mrs. Prettyman's

-dead," Carnaby said in a very subdued tone. "I meant to do a lot for

-her, to try and make up for my grandmother's being such a beast." He

-stopped short, and to Lavendar's astonishment, his face worked, and

-two tears squeezed themselves out of his eyes and rolled over his

-round cheeks as they might have done over a baby's. "It's the j-jam I

-was thinking of," he sniffed. "Once a pal of mine and I were playing

-the fool in old Mrs. Prettyman's garden, pretending to steal the

-plums, and giving her duck bits of bread steeped in beer to make it

-s-squiffy (a duck can be just as drunk as a chap). She didn't mind a

-bit. She was a regular old brick, and gave us a jolly good tea and a

-pot of jam to take away.... And now she's dead and--and...." Carnaby's

-feelings became too much for him again, and a handkerchief that had

-seen better and much cleaner days came into play. Lavendar flung an

-arm round the boy's shoulder.

-

-"This kind of regret comes to us all, Carnaby," he said. "I don't

-suppose there's a man with a heart in his breast who hasn't sometime

-had to say to himself, I might have done better: I might have been

-kinder: it's too late now! But it's never too late!" added Lavendar

-under his breath--"not where Love is!"

-

-The shower was over, and though the sun had not come out, a pleasant

-light lay upon the river as the friends walked down; upon the river

-beyond which old Lizzie Prettyman was sleeping so peacefully, the

-sleep of kings and beggars, and just and unjust, and rich and poor

-alike. Carnaby had dried his eyes but continued in a pensive mood.

-

-"Cousin Robin's still angry with me about the tree," he said,

-uncertainly.

-

-"She won't be angry long!" Lavendar assured him. "You and your Cousin

-Robin are going to be firm friends, friends for life."

-

-Carnaby seemed a good deal comforted. "Mind you don't tell her I

-blubbered!" he said in sudden alarm. "Swear!"

-

-"She wouldn't think a bit the worse of you for that!" said Lavendar.

-

-"Swear, though!" repeated Carnaby in deadly earnest.

-

-And Lavendar swore, of course.

-

-                  *       *       *       *       *

-

-But an influence very unlike Lavendar's and a spirit very different

-from Robinette's enfolded Carnaby de Tracy in his home and fought, as

-it were, for his soul. That night, after the last lamp had been put

-out by the careful Bates, and after Benson had bade a respectful

-good-night to her mistress, a light still burned in Mrs. de Tracy's

-room. Presently, carried in her hand, it flitted out along the silent

-passages, past rows of doors which were closed upon empty rooms or

-upon unconscious sleepers, till it came to Carnaby's door; to the

-Boys' Room, as that far-away and most unluxurious apartment had always

-been called. Mrs. de Tracy was making a pilgrimage to the shrine of

-one of her gods. She opened the door, and closing it gently behind

-her, she stood beside Carnaby's bed and looked at him, intently and

-haggardly.

-

-Mrs. de Tracy's was a singular character, as Mark Lavendar had said.

-The circumstances of her widowhood with its heavy responsibilities had

-perhaps hardly been fair to her. There had been little room for the

-kindlier and softer feelings, though it is to be feared that they

-would not have found much congenial soil in her heart. The personal

-selfishness in her had long been merged in the greater and harder

-selfishness of caste; she had become a mere machine for the keeping up

-of Stoke Revel.

-

-But to-night she was moved by the positively human sentiment which had

-been stirred in her by Carnaby's startling act of cutting the plum

-tree down. Ah! let fools believe if they could that she was angry with

-the boy! She had never felt anger less or pride more. While others

-talked and argued, shilly-shallied, made love, muddled and made

-mistakes, her grandson, the man of the race that always ruled, had cut

-the knot for himself, without hesitation and without compunction,

-without consulting anyone or asking anyone's leave. That was the way

-the de Tracys had always acted. And it seemed to Mrs. de Tracy a

-crowning coincidence, a fitting kind of poetical justice, that

-Carnaby's action should actually have prevented the sale of the land;

-that dreaded, detestable sale of the first land that the de Tracys

-had held upon the banks of the river.

-

-So, since Carnaby was to be a man of the right kind, his grandmother

-had come to look at him, not in love, as other women come to such

-bedsides, but in pride of heart. The boy, after his "white night" at

-Wittisham and the varied emotions of the succeeding day, lay on his

-side, in the deep, recuperative sleep of youth whence its energies are

-drawn and in which its vigors are renewed. His round cheek indented

-the pillow, his rumpled hair stirred in the breeze that blew in at the

-window, his arm and his open hand, relaxed, lay along the sheet.

-Another woman would have straightened the bed-clothes above him;

-another might have touched his hair or hand; another kissed his cheek.

-But not even because he was like her departed husband, like the man

-who five and fifty years before had courted a certain cold and proud,

-handsome and penniless Miss Augusta Gallup, would Mrs. de Tracy do

-these things. She had had her sensation, such as it was, her secret

-moment of emotion, and was satisfied. She left the room as she had

-come, the candle casting exaggerated shadows of herself upon the walls

-where Carnaby's bats and fishing rods and sporting prints hung.

-

-It is sad to be old as Mrs. de Tracy was old, but her age was of her

-own making, a shrinkage of the heart, a drying up of the wells of

-feeling that need not have been.

-

-"I should be better out of the way," her bitterness said within her,

-and alas! it was true. Her great, gaunt room seemed very lonely, very

-full of shadows when she returned to it. Rupert, who always slept at

-her bedside, awaited her. Disturbed at this unwonted hour, he stirred

-in his basket, wheezed and gurgled, turned round and round and could

-not get comfortable, whined, and looked up in his mistress's face. She

-stood watching him with a sort of grim pity, and, strangely enough,

-bestowed upon him the caress she had not found for her grandson.

-

-"Poor Rupert! You are getting too old, like your mistress! Your

-departure, like hers, will be a sorrow to no one!" Rupert seemed to

-wheeze an asthmatical consent, and presently he snuggled down in his

-basket and went to sleep.

-

-

-

-

-XXV

-

-THE BELLS OF STOKE REVEL

-

-

-On Sunday morning Robinette and Lavendar were both ready for church,

-by some strange coincidence, half an hour too soon. He was standing at

-the door as she came down into the hall. Mrs. de Tracy and Miss

-Smeardon were nowhere to be seen; even Carnaby was invisible, but the

-shrill, infuriated yelping of the Prince Charles from the drawing room

-indicated his whereabouts only too plainly.

-

-"We're much too early," said Robinette, glancing at the clock.

-

-"Shall we walk through the buttercup meadow, then--you and I?" asked

-Lavendar. His voice was low, and Robinette answered very softly. She

-wore a white dress that morning without a touch of colour.

-

-"I couldn't wear black to-day for Nurse," she said, in answer to his

-glance, "but I couldn't wear any colour, either."

-

-"You're as white as the plum tree was!" said Lavendar. "I remember

-thinking that it looked like a bride." Robinette made no reply. He

-ventured to look up at her as he spoke, and she was smiling although

-her lip quivered and her eyes were full of tears. Lavendar's heart

-beat uncomfortably fast as they walked through the meadow towards the

-stile which led into the churchyard.

-

-"It's too soon to go in yet," he said. "The bells haven't begun."

-

-"Let's stop here. It's cool in the shadow," said Robinette. She leaned

-on the wall and looked out at the shining reaches of the river. "The

-swelling of Jordan is over now," she said with a little smile and a

-sigh. "The tide has come up, and how quiet everything is!"

-

-The water mirrored the hills and the ships and the gracious sky above

-them. There was scarcely a sound in the air. At the point where they

-stood, the Manor House was hidden from view, and only the squat old

-tower of the church was visible, and the yew tree rising above the

-wall against the golden field. A bush of briar covered with white

-roses hung above them, just behind Robinette, and Lavendar looking at

-her in this English setting on an English Sunday morning, wondered to

-himself, as he had so often done before, if she could ever make this

-country her home.

-

-"Yet she has English blood as well as I," he thought. "Why, the very

-name on the old bells of the church there, records the memory of an

-ancestress of hers! We cannot be so far apart." Looking at her

-standing there, he rehearsed to himself all that he meant to say, oh,

-a great many things both true and eloquent, but at that moment every

-word forsook him. Yet this was probably the best opportunity he would

-have of telling her what was burning in his heart: telling her how she

-had beguiled him at first by her quick understanding and her

-frolicsome wit, because all that sort of thing was so new to him. She

-had come like a mountain spring to a thirsty man. He had been groping

-for inspiration and for help: now he seemed to find them all in her.

-She was so much more than charming, though it was her charm that first

-impressed him; so much more than pretty, though her face attracted him

-at first; so much more than magnetic, though she drew him to her at

-their first meeting with bonds as delicate as they were strong. These

-were tangible, vital, legitimate qualities--but were they all? Could

-lips part so, could eyes shine so, could voice tremble so, if there

-were not something underneath; a good heart, fidelity, warmth of

-nature?

-

-"For the first time," he thought, "I long to be worthy of a woman. But

-I would not tell her how I love her at this moment, unless I felt I

-need not be wholly unequal to her demands. I have never desired

-anything strongly enough to struggle for it, up to now; but she has

-set my springs in motion, and I can work for her until I die!"

-

-All this he thought, but never a word he said. Then the church clock

-struck and the clashing bells began. They shook the air, the earth,

-the ancient stones, the very nests upon the trees, and sent the rooks

-flying black as ink against the yellow buttercups in the meadow.

-

-"We must go, in a few minutes," said Robinette. "Oh, will you pull me

-some of those white roses up there?"

-

-Lavendar swung himself up and drawing down a bunch he pulled off two

-white buds.

-

-"Will you take them?" he asked, holding them out to her. Then suddenly

-he said, very low and very humbly, "Oh, take me too; take me,

-Robinette, though no man was ever so unworthy!"

-

-Robinette laid the roses on the wall beside her.

-

-"For my part," she said, turning to Lavendar with a little laugh that

-was half a sob; "for my part, I like giving better than taking!" She

-put both her hands in his and looked into his face. "Here is my

-life," she said simply. "I want to belong to you, to help you, to live

-by your side."

-

-"I oughtn't to take you at your word," he said, his voice choked with

-emotion. "You are far too good for me!"

-

-"Hush," Robinetta answered, putting a finger on his lip; "it isn't a

-question of how great you are or how wonderful: it's a question of

-what we can be to each other. I'd rather have you than the Duke of

-Wellington or Marcus Aurelius, and I believe you wouldn't change me

-for Helen of Troy!"

-

-"I have nothing to bring you, nothing," said Lavendar again, "nothing

-but my love and my whole heart."

-

-"If all the kingdoms of the earth were offered to me instead, I would

-still take you and what you give me," Robinette answered.

-

-Lavendar laid his cheek against her bright hair and sighed deeply. In

-that sigh there passed away all former things, and behold, all things

-became new. Two cuckoos answered each other from opposite banks of the

-river and two hearts sang songs of joy that met and mingled and

-floated upward.

-

-Again the bells broke out overhead, filling the air with music that

-had rung from them ever since just such another morning hundreds of

-years before, when they rang their first peal from the church tower,

-bearing the legend newly cut upon them: "Pray for the Soul of Anne de

-Tracy, 1538." And Anne de Tracy's memory was forgotten--so long

-forgotten--except for the bells that carried her name!

-

-Yet in these same meadows that she must have known, spring was come

-once more. The Devonshire plum trees had budded and blossomed and shed

-their petals year after year, and year after year, since the bells

-first swung in the air; and now Hope was born once again, and Youth,

-and Love, which is immortal!

-

-

-

-

-The Riverside Press

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-REBECCA of SUNNYBROOK FARM

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-By KATE DOUGLAS WIGGIN

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-"It is a sunny, warm-hearted humorous story, that leaves the reader

-with a sense of time well spent in its perusal."--_Brooklyn Eagle._

-

-HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY

-

-BOSTON AND NEW YORK

-

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-End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Robinetta, by 

-Kate Douglas Wiggin and Mary Findlater and Jane Findlater and Allan McAulay

-

-*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30090 ***

+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30090 ***
+
+ROBINETTA
+
+
+
+
+By Kate Douglas Wiggin
+
+ROBINETTA. Illustrated. 12mo, $1.10 net. Postage, 10 cents.
+
+REBECCA OF SUNNYBROOK FARM. Holiday Edition. Illustrated. Crown 8vo, $1.50.
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+SUSANNA AND SUE. Illustrated by Alice Barber Stephens. Crown 8vo, $1.50
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+$1.50.
+
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+
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+
+ROSE O' THE RIVER. Illustrated in color. 12mo, 1.25.
+
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+
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+
+A CATHEDRAL COURTSHIP, AND PENELOPE'S ENGLISH EXPERIENCES. Illustrated.
+16mo, $1.00.
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+$2.00; the set, $6.00.
+
+A CATHEDRAL COURTSHIP. Holiday Edition, enlarged. Illustrated by C. E.
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+
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+
+TIMOTHY'S QUEST. A Story for Anybody, Young or Old, who cares to read it.
+16mo, $1.00. Holiday Edition. Illustrated. Crown 8vo, $1.50.
+
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+Library. 60 cents, net; postpaid.
+
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+
+MARM LISA. 16mo, $1.00.
+
+NINE LOVE SONGS, AND A CAROL. Music by Mrs. Wiggin. Words by Herrick,
+Sill, and others. Square 8vo, $1.25.
+
+HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY
+
+Boston and New York
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+ROBINETTA
+
+by
+
+Kate Douglas Wiggin
+
+Mary Findlater
+
+Jane Findlater
+
+Allan McAulay
+
+BOSTON AND NEW YORK
+
+Houghton Mifflin Company
+
+The Riverside Press, Cambridge
+
+
+
+
+COPYRIGHT, 1910 AND 1911, BY KATE DOUGLAS RIGGS
+
+COPYRIGHT, 1911, BY HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY
+
+ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
+
+Published February 1911
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+      I. THE PLUM TREE                                               1
+     II. THE MANOR HOUSE                                             7
+    III. YOUNG MRS. LORING                                          19
+     IV. A CHILLY RECEPTION                                         29
+      V. AT WITTISHAM                                               39
+     VI. MARK LAVENDAR                                              54
+    VII. A CROSS-EXAMINATION                                        69
+   VIII. SUNDAY AT STOKE REVEL                                      87
+     IX. POINTS OF VIEW                                             99
+      X. A NEW KINSMAN                                             113
+     XI. THE SANDS AT WESTON                                       127
+    XII. LOVE IN THE MUD                                           151
+   XIII. CARNABY TO THE RESCUE                                     170
+    XIV. THE EMPTY SHRINE                                          181
+     XV. "NOW LUBIN IS AWAY"                                       194
+    XVI. TWO LETTERS                                               210
+   XVII. MRS. DE TRACY CROSSES THE FERRY                           217
+  XVIII. THE STOKE REVEL JEWELS                                    234
+    XIX. LAWYER AND CLIENT                                         250
+     XX. THE NEW HOME                                              260
+    XXI. CARNABY CUTS THE KNOT                                     273
+   XXII. CONSEQUENCES                                              284
+  XXIII. DEATH AND LIFE                                            299
+   XXIV. GRANDMOTHER AND GRANDSON                                  309
+    XXV. THE BELLS OF STOKE REVEL                                  324
+
+
+
+
+ROBINETTA
+
+I
+
+THE PLUM TREE
+
+
+At Wittisham several of the little houses had crept down very close to
+the river. Mrs. Prettyman's cottage was just like a hive made for the
+habitation of some gigantic bee; its pointed roof covered with deep,
+close-cut thatch the colour of a donkey's hide. There were small
+windows under the overhanging eaves, a pathway of irregular flat
+stones ran up to the doorway, and a bit of low wall divided the tiny
+garden from the river. The Plum Tree grew just beside the wall, so
+near indeed that it could look at itself on spring days when the water
+was like a mirror. In autumn the branches on that side of the tree
+were the first to be shaken, lest any of the fruit should fall down
+and be lost. Sometimes a village child treading cautiously on bare
+toes amongst the stones along the narrow margin, would pounce upon a
+plum with a squeal of joy, for although the village was surrounded
+with orchards, the fruit of Mrs. Prettyman's tree had a flavour all
+its own.
+
+The tree had been given to her by a nephew who was a gardener in a
+great fruit orchard in the North, and her husband had planted and
+tended it for years. It began life as a slender thing with two or
+three rods of branches, that looked as if the first wind of winter
+would blow it away, but before the storms came, it had begun to
+trust itself to the new earth, and to root itself with force and
+determination. There were good soil and water near it, and plenty of
+sunshine, and, as is the way of Nature, it set itself to do its own
+business at all seasons, unlike the distracted heart of man. The
+traffic of the river came and went; around the headland the big
+ships were steering in, or going out to sea; and in the village
+the human life went on while the Plum Tree grew high enough to look
+over the wall. Its stem by that time had a firm footing; next it took
+a charming bend to the side, and then again threw out new branches
+in that direction. It turned itself from the prevailing wind, throwing
+a new grace into its attitude, and went on growing; returning in
+blossom and leaves and fruit an hundredfold for all that it received
+from the earth and the sun.
+
+In spring it was enchanting; at first, before the blossoms came out,
+with small bright leaves, and buds like pearls, heaped upon the
+branches; then, later, when the whole tree was white, imaged like a
+bride, in the looking-glass of the river. It only wanted a nightingale
+to sing in it by moonlight. There were no nightingales there, but the
+thrushes sang in the dawning, and the little birds whose voices were
+sweet and thin chirruped about it in crowds, while the larks, trilling
+out the ardour of mating time, sometimes rose from their nests in the
+grass and soared over its topmost branches on their skyward flight.
+
+Spring, therefore, was its merriest time, for then every passer-by
+would cry, "What a beautiful tree!" or "Did ye ever see the likes of
+it?"
+
+There were a few days of inevitable sadness a little later when its
+million petals fell and made a delicate carpet of snow on the ground.
+There they lay in a kind of fairy ring, as if there had been a shower
+of mother-of-pearl in the April night; and no human creature would
+have dared set a vandal foot on that magic circle, and mar the
+perfection of its beauty. All the same the Plum Tree had lost its
+petals, and that was hard to bear at first. But though its Wittisham
+neighbours often said to summer trippers, "I wish you could have seen
+it in blossom!" the Plum Tree did not repine, because of the
+secrets--the thousand, thousand secrets--it held under its leaves.
+"The blossoms were but a promise," it thought, "and soon everybody
+will see the meaning of them."
+
+Then the tiny green globes began to appear on every branch and twig;
+crowding, crowding, crowding till it seemed as if there could never be
+room for so many to grow; but the weaker ones fell from the boughs or
+were blown away when the wind was fierce, so the Plum Tree felt no
+anxiety, knowing that it was built for a large family! The little
+green globes grew and grew, and drank in sweet mother-juices, and
+swelled, and when the summer sun touched their cheeks all day they
+flushed and reddened, till when August came the tree was laden with
+purpling fruit; fruit so tempting that its rosy beauty had sometimes
+to be hidden under a veil of grey fishing net, lest the myriad
+bird-friends it had made during the summer should love it too much for
+its own good.
+
+So the Plum Tree grew and flourished, taking its part in the pageant
+of the seasons, unaware that its existence was to be interwoven with
+that of men; or that creatures of another order of being were to owe
+some changes in their fortunes to its silent obedience to the motive
+of life.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+THE MANOR HOUSE
+
+
+The long, low drawing room of the Manor at Stoke Revel was the warmest
+and most genial room in the old Georgian house. It was four-windowed
+and faced south, and even on this morning of a chilly and backward
+spring, the tentative sunshine of April had contrived to put out the
+fire in the steel grate. One of the windows opened wide to the garden,
+and let in a scent which was less of flowers than of the promise of
+flowers--a scent of earth and green leaves, of the leafless daphne
+still a-bloom in the shrubbery, of hyacinths and daffodils and tulips
+and primroses still sheathed in their buds and awaiting a warmer air.
+
+But this promise of spring borne into the room by the wandering breeze
+from the river, was nipped, as it were, by the frigid spirit of age
+and formalism in its living occupants. Mrs. de Tracy, a lady of
+seventy-five, sat at her writing-table. Her companion, Miss Smeardon,
+a person of indeterminate age, nursed the lap-dog Rupert during such
+time as her employer was too deeply engaged to fulfil that agreeable
+duty. Mrs. de Tracy, as she wrote, was surrounded by countless
+photographs of her family and her wide connection, most prominent
+among them two--that of her husband, Admiral de Tracy, who had died
+many years ago, and that of her grandson, his successor, whose
+guardian she was, and whose minority she directed. Her eldest son, the
+father of this boy, who had died on his ship off the coast of Africa;
+his wife, dead too these many years; her other sons as well (she had
+borne four); their wives and children--grown men, fashionable women,
+beautiful children, fat babies: the likenesses of them all were around
+her, standing amid china and flowers and bric-a-brac on the crowded
+tables and what-nots of the not inharmonious and yet shabby Victorian
+room. Mrs. de Tracy, it might at a glance be seen, was no innovator,
+either in furniture, in dress, or probably in ideas. As she was
+dressed now, in the severely simple black of a widow, so she had been
+dressed when she first mourned Admiral de Tracy. The muslin ends of
+her widow's cap fell upon her shoulders, and its border rested on the
+hard lines of iron-grey hair which framed a face small, pale, aquiline
+in character and decidedly austere in expression.
+
+She took one from a docketed pile of letters and held it up under her
+glasses, the sun suddenly striking a dazzle of blue and green from the
+diamond rings on her small, withered hands. Then she read it aloud to
+her companion in an even and chilly voice. She had read it before, in
+the same way, at the same hour, several times. The letter, couched in
+an epistolary style largely dependent upon underlining, appeared to
+contain, nevertheless, some matter of moment. It was dated from Eaton
+Square, in London, some weeks before, and signed Maria Spalding. ("Her
+mother was a Gallup," Mrs. de Tracy would say, if any one asked who
+Maria Spalding was; and this was considered sufficient, for Mrs. de
+Tracy's maiden name had been Gallup,--not euphonious but nevertheless
+aristocratic.)
+
+                  *       *       *       *       *
+
+MY DEAR AUGUSTA (Maria Spalding wrote): I am going to ask you to
+help me out of a _difficulty_. There is no _use_ beating about the
+bush. You know that Cynthia's daughter Robinetta (Loring is her
+_married_ name) has been with me for a month. _American_ or no
+_American_, I meant to have had her for a part of the season, and to
+_present_ her, if possible (so _good_ for these Americans to learn
+what royalty _is_ and to breathe the atmosphere which doth hedge a
+_King_ as Shakespeare says, and which they can never _have_, of
+course, in a country like theirs). I know you can't _approve_, dear
+Augusta, and you will blame me for sentimentality--but I never
+_can_ forget what a _sweet_ creature Cynthia was before she ran away
+with that odious American--and my _greatest_ friend in girlhood, too,
+you must remember. So Robinette, as she is generally called, has
+come to my house as a _home_, but a most _unlucky_ thing has
+happened. I have had influenza so badly that it has affected my
+_heart_ (an old trouble), I am ordered to Nauheim, and Robinette is
+_stranded_, poor dear. She has few friends in London and certainly
+none who can put her up. Tho' she _is_ a widow, she is only twenty-two
+(just _imagine_!), very pretty, and really, tho' you won't believe
+it, _quite_ nice. I am _desperate_, and just wondering if you
+would let by-gones be by-gones, and receive her at Stoke Revel. She
+has set her heart upon seeing the place, and some _picture_ she
+was called after (I can't remember it, so it can't be one of the
+_famous_ Stoke Revel group--a _copy_, I fancy), and on paying a
+visit to Lizzie Prettyman, her mother's old nurse at Wittisham over
+the river. She _promised_ her mother she would do this--and such a
+promise is _sacred_, don't you think? It's such an _old_ story
+now, Cynthia's American marriage, and no fault of _Robinette's_,
+poor dear child. Her wish is almost a _pious_ one, don't you agree, to
+pay respect to her mother's memory and the family, and is _much_ to
+be encouraged in these days of radicalism, when every natural tie
+is loosened and people pay no more _respect_ to their parents than if
+they hadn't any, but had made themselves and brought themselves up
+from the beginning. So don't you think it's a _good_ thing to
+encourage the _right_ kind of feeling in Robinette, especially as
+she is an _American_, you know....
+
+                  *       *       *       *       *
+
+Mrs. de Tracy paused, and replaced the letter in the package from
+which she had withdrawn it.
+
+"Maria Spalding's point of view," she observed, "has, I confess,
+helped me to overcome the extreme reluctance I felt to receive the
+child of that American here. Cynthia de Tracy's elopement nearly broke
+my dear husband's heart. She was the apple of his eye before our
+marriage; so much younger than himself that she was like his child
+rather than his sister."
+
+"What a shock it must have been!" murmured the companion. "What
+ingratitude! Can you really receive her child? Of course you know
+best, Mrs. de Tracy; but it seems a risk."
+
+"Hardly a risk," rejoined Mrs. de Tracy with dignity. "But it is a
+trial to me, and an effort that I scarcely feel called upon to make."
+
+Miss Smeardon was so well versed in her duties that she knew she
+always had to urge her employer to do exactly what she most wanted to
+do, and the poor creature had developed a really wonderful ingenuity
+in divining what these wishes were. Just now, however, she was, to use
+a sporting phrase, "at fault" for a minute. She could not exactly
+tell whether Mrs. de Tracy wanted to be urged to ask her niece to
+Stoke Revel, or whether she wanted to be supplied with a really
+plausible excuse for not doing so. Those of you who have seen a hound
+at fault can imagine the companion at this moment: irresolute, tense,
+desperately anxious to find and follow up the right scent. Compromise,
+that useful refuge, came to her aid.
+
+"It _is_ difficult to know," she faltered. Then Mrs. de Tracy gave her
+the lead.
+
+"Maria Spalding is right when she says that my husband's niece
+contemplates a duty in visiting Stoke Revel," she announced. "The
+young woman is the lawful daughter of Cynthia de Tracy that was: our
+solicitors could never discover anything dubious in the marriage,
+though we long suspected it. Therefore, though I never could have
+invited her here, I admit that the Admiral's niece has a right to
+come, in a way."
+
+"Though her maiden name was Bean!" ejaculated the companion, almost
+under her breath. "There are Pease in the North, as everyone knows;
+perhaps there are Beans somewhere."
+
+"There have never been Beans," said Mrs. de Tracy solemnly and totally
+unconscious of a pun. "Look for yourself!"
+
+Miss Smeardon did not need to rise from her seat and fetch Burke: it
+lay always close at hand. She merely lifted it on to her knee and ran
+her finger down the names beginning with B-e-a.
+
+"Beaton, Beare, Beatty, Beale--" she read out, and she shook her head
+in dismal triumph; "but never a Bean! No! we English have no such
+dreadful names, thank Heavens!"
+
+"This is the beginning of April," pursued Mrs. de Tracy, referring to
+a date-card. "Maria Spalding's course at Nauheim will take three
+weeks. We must allow her a week for going and coming. During that time
+Mrs. David Loring can be my guest."
+
+"A whole month!" cried the companion, as though in ecstasy at her
+employer's generosity. "A whole month at Stoke Revel!"
+
+Mrs. de Tracy took no notice. "Write in my name to Maria Spalding,
+please," she commanded. "Be sure that there is no mistake about dates.
+Mention the departure and arrival of trains, and say that Mrs. David
+Loring will find a fly at the station. That is all, I think."
+
+The companion bent officiously forward. "You remember, of course, that
+young Mr. Lavendar comes down next week upon business?"
+
+"Well, what if he does?" asked Mrs. de Tracy shortly.
+
+"Mrs. David Loring is a widow," murmured the companion darkly; "a
+young American widow; and they are said to be so dangerous!"
+
+Mrs. de Tracy drew herself up. "Do you insinuate that the Admiral's
+niece will lay herself out to attract Mr. Lavendar, a widow in the
+house of a widow! You go rather too far, Miss Smeardon, though you are
+speaking of an American. Besides, allusions of this character are
+extremely distasteful to me. I have been told that the minds of
+unmarried women are always running upon love affairs, but I should
+hardly have thought it of you."
+
+"I'm sure I never imagined any about myself!" murmured Miss Smeardon
+with the pitiable writhe of the trodden-on worm.
+
+"I should suppose not," rejoined Mrs. de Tracy gravely, and the
+companion took up her pen obediently to write to Maria Spalding.
+
+"Shall I send your love to the Admiral's niece?" she humbly enquired,
+"or--or something of the kind?" There was irony in the last phrase,
+but it was quite unconscious.
+
+"Not my love," replied Mrs. de Tracy, "some suitable message. Make no
+mistake about the dates, remember."
+
+Thus a letter containing dates, and though not love, the substitute
+described by Miss Smeardon as "something of the kind" for an unwanted
+niece from an unknown aunt, left Stoke Revel by the afternoon post and
+reached Robinette Loring at breakfast next morning.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+YOUNG MRS. LORING
+
+
+Young Mrs. Loring thought she had never taken so long a drive as that
+from the Weston railway station to Stoke Revel. The way stretched
+through narrow winding roads, always up hill, always between high
+Devonshire hedges. The rain-soaked lanes were slippery and she was
+unpleasantly conscious of the size and weight of the American wardrobe
+trunk that reared its mighty frame in front of her almost to the
+blotting-out of the driver, who steadied it with one hand as he plied
+the whip with the other. It struck her humorously that the trunk was
+larger than most of the cottages they were passing.
+
+It was a late spring that year in England,--Robinette was a new-comer
+and did not know that England runs to late and wet springs, believing
+that they make more conversation than early, fine ones,--and the
+trees were just bursting into leaf. The sun had not shone for three
+days and the landscape, for all its beautiful greenness, looked gloomy
+to an eye accustomed to a good deal of crude sunshine.
+
+As the horse mounted higher and higher Robinette glanced out of the
+windows at the dripping boughs and her face lost something of its
+sparkle of anticipation. She had little to expect in the way of a warm
+welcome, she knew that; or at least her mind knew it, but Robinette's
+heart always expected surprises, although she had lived two and twenty
+summers and was a widow at that.
+
+Her mother had been a de Tracy of Stoke Revel whose connection with
+that ancient family had ceased abruptly when she met an American
+architect while traveling on the Continent, married him out of hand
+and went to his native New England with him. The de Tracys had no
+opinion of America, its government, its institutions, its customs, or
+its people, and when they learned that Cynthia de Tracy had not only
+allied herself with this undesirable nation, but had selected a native
+by the name of Harold Bean, they regarded the incident of the marriage
+as closed.
+
+The union had been a happy one, though the de Tracys of Stoke Revel
+had always regarded the unfortunately named architect more as a
+vegetable than a human being; and the daughter of the marriage was the
+young Mrs. Loring now driving in the station fly to the home of her
+mother's people.
+
+Her father had died when she was fifteen and her mother followed three
+years after, leaving her with a respectable fortune but no relations;
+the entire family (happily, Mrs. de Tracy would have said) having died
+out with Harold. Robinette was unspeakably lonely, even with her
+hundred friends, for there was enough English blood in her to make her
+cry out inwardly for kith and kin, for family ties, for all the dear
+familiar backgrounds of hearth and home. Had a welcoming hand been
+stretched across the sea she would have flown at once to make
+acquaintance with the de Tracys, cold and indifferent as they had
+always been, but no bidding ever came, and the picture of the Manor
+House of Stoke Revel on her dressing-table was the only reminder of
+her connection with that ancient and honourable house.
+
+It is not difficult to see, under the circumstances, how the
+nineteen-year-old Robinette became the wife of the first man in whom
+she inspired a serious passion.
+
+It is incredible that women should confuse the passive process of
+being loved with the active process of loving, but it occurs
+nevertheless, and Robinette drifted into marriage with the vaguest
+possible notions of what it meant; feeling and knowing that she needed
+something, and supposing it must be a husband. It was better fortune,
+perhaps, than she merited, and equally kind for both parties, that her
+husband died before either of them realized the tragic mistake. David
+Loring was too absorbed in his own emotions to note the absence of
+full response on the part of his wife; Robinette was too much a child
+and too inexperienced to be conscious of her own lack of feeling.
+
+It was death, not life, that opened her eyes. When David Loring lay in
+his coffin, Robinette's heart was suddenly seized with growing pains.
+Her vision widened; words and promises took on a new and larger
+meaning, and she became a serious woman for her years, although there
+was an ineradicable gaiety of spirit in her that needed only sunshine
+to make it the dominant note of her nature.
+
+At the moment, Robinette, in the station fly on her way to Stoke
+Revel, was only in the making, although she herself considered her
+life as practically finished. The past and the present were moulding
+her into something that only the future could determine. Sometimes
+April, sometimes July, sometimes witch, sometimes woman; impetuous,
+intrepid, romantic, tempestuous, illogical,--these were but the
+elements of which the coming years of experience had yet to shape a
+character. Young Mrs. Loring had plenty of briars, but she had good
+roots and in favorable soil would be certain to bear roses.
+
+But in the immediate present, the fly with the immense American
+wardrobe trunk beside the driver, turned into the avenue of Stoke
+Revel, and Mrs. David Loring bestowed upon herself those little
+feminine attentions which precede arrival--pattings of the hair behind
+the ears, twitches of the veil, and pullings down about the waist and
+sleeves. A little toy of a purse made of golden chainwork, hanging
+from her wrist, was searched for the driver's fare, and it had hardly
+snapped to again when the fly drew up before the entrance to the
+house. How interesting it looked! Robinette put her head out of the
+carriage window and gazed up at the long row of windows, the old
+weather-coloured stones, and the carved front of the building. Here
+was a house where things might happen, she thought, and her young
+heart gave a sudden bound of anticipation.
+
+But the door was shut, alas! and a blank feeling came over Robinette
+as she looked at it. Some one perhaps would come out and welcome
+her, she thought for a brief moment, but only the butler appeared,
+who, with the formal announcement of her name, ushered her into a
+long, low room with a row of windows on one side and a pleasant
+old-fashioned look of comfort and habitation. She caught a glimpse
+of a tea-table with a steaming urn upon it, heard the furious barking
+of a little dog, saw that there were two figures in the room and
+moved instinctively towards the one beside the window, the figure in
+weeds, neither very tall nor very imposing, yet somehow formidable.
+
+"How do you do?" said an icy voice, and a chill hand held hers for a
+moment, but did not press it. The colour in Robinette's cheeks paled
+and then rushed back, as she drew herself up unconsciously.
+
+"I am very well, thank you, Aunt de Tracy," she answered with
+commendable composure.
+
+"This is my friend and companion, Miss Smeardon," continued Mrs. de
+Tracy, advancing to the tea-table where that useful personage
+officiated. "Mrs. David Loring--Miss Smeardon." Miss Smeardon had the
+dog upon her lap, yapping, clashing his teeth together, and obviously
+thirsting for the visitor's blood. He was quieted with soothing words,
+and Robinette seated herself innocently in the nearest chair, beside
+the table.
+
+"Excuse me!" the companion said with a slight cough; "Mrs. de Tracy's
+chair! Do you mind taking another?" There was something disagreeable
+in her voice, and in Mrs. de Tracy's deliberate scrutiny something so
+nearly insulting that a childish impulse to cry then and there
+suddenly seized upon Robinette. This was her mother's home--and no
+kiss had welcomed her to it, no kind word! There were perfunctory
+questions about her journey, references to the coldness and lateness
+of the spring, enquiries after the health of Maria Spalding (whose
+mother was a Gallup), but no claiming of kinship, no naming of her
+mother's name nor of her native country! Robinette's ardent spirit had
+felt sorrow, but it had never met rebuff nor known injustice, and the
+sudden stir of revolt at her heart was painful with an almost physical
+pain.
+
+After a long drawn hour of this social torture, Mrs. de Tracy rang,
+and a hard-featured elderly maid appeared.
+
+"Show Mrs. Loring to her room, Benson," said the mistress of the
+house, "and help her to unpack."
+
+Robinette followed her conductor upstairs with a sinking heart. Oh!
+but the chill of this English spring was in her bones, and the
+coldness of a reception so frigid that her passionate young spirit
+almost rebelled on the spot, prompting wild ideas and impulsive
+impossibilities; even a flight to her mother's old nurse--to Lizzie
+Prettyman, so often lovingly described, with her little thatched
+cottage beyond the river! Surely she would find the welcome there that
+was lacking here, and the touch of human kindness that one craved in a
+foreign land. But no! Robinette called to her aid her strong American
+common sense and the "grit" that her countrymen admire. Was she to
+confess herself routed in the very first onset--the very first attempt
+in storming the ancestral stronghold? With a characteristically quick
+return of hope, the Admiral's niece exclaimed, "Certainly not!"
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+A CHILLY RECEPTION
+
+
+Mrs. Benson approached the wardrobe trunk with the air of a person who
+has taken an immediate and violent dislike to an object.
+
+"We have all looked at your box, ma'am, but I am sorry to say we are
+not sure that it is set up properly. It is very different from any we
+have ever seen at the Manor, and the men had some difficulty in
+getting it up to the room. I fancy it is upside down, is it not? No?
+We rather thought it was. I would call the boot-and-knife boy to
+unlock it, but he jammed his hand in attempting to force the catches,
+and I thought you would be kind enough to instruct me how to open it,
+perhaps?"
+
+"I am quite able to do it myself," said Robinette, keeping down a
+hysterical laugh. "See how easily it goes when you know the secret!"
+and she deftly turned her key in two locks one after the other, let
+down the mysterious façade of the affair, and pulled out an
+extraordinary rack on which hung so many dresses and wraps that Mrs.
+Benson lost her breath in surprise.
+
+"Would you like me to carry some of your things into another room,
+ma'am?" she asked. "They will never go in the wardrobe; it is only a
+plain English wardrobe, ma'am. We have never had any American
+guests."
+
+"The things needn't be moved," said Robinette, "many of them will be
+quite convenient where they are;--and now you need not trouble about
+me; I am well used to helping myself, if you will be kind enough to
+come in just before dinner for a moment."
+
+Mrs. Benson disappeared below stairs, where she regaled the injured
+boot-and-knife boy and the female servants with the first instalment
+of what was destined to be the most dramatic and sensational serial
+story ever told at the Manor House.
+
+"The lid of the box don't lift up," she explained, "like all the box
+lids as ever I saw, and me with Lady Chitterton for six years,
+traveling constantly. The front of the thing splits in the middle and
+the bottom half falls on the floor. A heathenish kind of tray lifts
+off from its hinges like a door, and a clothes rack pulls out on
+runners. 'T is a sight to curdle your blood; and the number of dresses
+she's brought would make her out to be richer than Crusoe!--though I
+have heard from a cousin of mine who was in service in America that
+the ladies over there spend every penny they can rake and scrape on
+their clothes. Their husbands may work their fingers to the bone, and
+their parents be in the workhouse, but fine frocks they will have!"
+
+"Rather!" said the boot-and-knife boy, nursing his injured thumb.
+
+On the departure of Mrs. Benson from her room, Robinette gave a
+stifled shriek in which laughter and tears were equally mingled. Then
+she flew like a lapwing to the fire-place and lifted off a fan of
+white paper from the grate.
+
+"No possibility of help there!" she exclaimed. "Cold within, cold
+without! How shall I unpack? How shall I dress? How shall I live
+without a fire? Ah! here is the coal box! Empty! Empty, and it is only
+the month of April! 'Oh! to be in England now that April's there!' How
+could Browning write that line without his teeth chattering! How well
+I understand the desire of the British to keep India and South Africa!
+They must have some place to go where they can get warm! Now for
+unpacking, or any sort of manual labour which will put my frozen blood
+in circulation!"
+
+Slapping her hands, beating her breast, stamping her feet, Mrs. Loring
+removed a few dresses from the offending trunk to the mahogany
+wardrobe, and disposed her effects neatly in the drawers of bureau and
+highboy.
+
+"I have made a mistake at the very beginning," she thought. "I
+supposed nothing could be too pretty for the Manor House and now I am
+afraid my worst is too fine. The Manor House of Stoke Revel! Wouldn't
+that appeal to anyone's imagination? Now what for to-night? White
+satin with crystal? Back you go into the trunk! Back goes the
+silver grey chiffon! I'll have it re-hung over flannel! Avaunt!
+heliotrope velvet with amethyst spangles, made with a view to
+ensnaring the High Church clergy! I wish I had a princess dress of
+moleskin with a court train of squirrel hanging from the shoulders!
+Here is the thing; my black Liberty satin two years old. I will
+cover part of my exposed neck and shoulders with a fichu of lace; my
+black silk openwork stockings will be drawn on over a pair of
+balbriggans, and the number of petticoats I shall don would discourage
+a Scotch fishwife! To-morrow I'll write Mrs. Spalding's maid to buy
+me two hot-water bottles, mittens, a box of quinine tablets and a
+Shetland shawl.... What are these--_fans?_ Retire into the depths of
+that tray and never look me in the face again!... _Parasols?_ I
+wonder at your impertinence in coming here! I shall give you cod
+liver oil and make you grow into umbrellas!"
+
+Presently the dinner gong growled through the house, and Robinette,
+still shivering, flung across her shoulders a shimmering scarf of
+white and silver. It fell over her simple black dress in just the
+right way, adding a last touch to the somewhat exotic grace which made
+her a stranger in her mother's home. Then she fled down the darkening
+passages, instinctively aware that unpunctuality was a crime in this
+house. Yet in spite of her haste, she paused before the window of an
+upper lobby, arrested by the scene it framed. Heavy rain still fell,
+and the light, made greenish by the nearness of great trees just
+coming into leaf, was cheerless and singularly cold. But that could
+not mar the majesty of the outlook which made the Manor of Stoke
+Revel, on its height, unique. Far below the house, the broad river
+slipped towards the sea, between woods that rose tier upon tier above
+and beyond--woods of beech and of oak, not yet green, but purplish
+under the rainy mist. On the bank, woods too, and here, where the
+river, in excess of strength, swirled into a creek--a shining
+sand-bank where fishing nets were hung. Then the low, strong tower of
+a church, with the sombreness of cypress beside it, and the thatched
+roofs of cottages.
+
+Something stirred in the heart of Robinette as she looked, that part
+of her blood which her English mother had given her. This scene, so
+indescribably English as hardly to be imaginable in another land, had
+been painted for her again and again by her mother with all the
+retrospective romance of an exile's touch. She knew it, but she did
+not know if she could ever love it, beautiful though it was and
+noble.
+
+But she banished these misgivings and ran down the twisted stairway
+so fast that she was almost panting when she reached the drawing-room
+door.
+
+"I will take your arm, please," said the hostess coldly, while Miss
+Smeardon wore the virtuous and injured air of one who has been kept
+waiting. Mrs. de Tracy laid, on the warm and smooth arm of her guest,
+one of her small, dry hands, sparkling with rings, and the procession
+closed with the companion and the lap-dog.
+
+In the dining room, the shutters were closed, and the candles, in
+branching candlesticks of silver, only partially lit a room long and
+low like the other. The walls were darkened with pictures, and
+Robinette's bright eyes searched them eagerly.
+
+"The Sir Joshua is not here!" she thought. "And it was not in the
+drawing room. Has Aunt de Tracy given, or hidden it away--my very own
+name-picture?"
+
+With all her determination, Robinette somehow could not summon courage
+enough to ask where this picture was. Such a question would involve
+the mention of her mother's name, and from that she shrank. Young Mrs.
+Loring had never before found herself in a society where conversation
+was apparently regarded as a crime, and to fit herself to her
+environment, under the scrutiny of Mrs. de Tracy and the decidedly
+inimical looks of the companion, took all her time. A burden of
+self-consciousness lay upon her such as her light and elastic spirit
+had never known. She found herself morbidly observant of minute
+details; the pattern of the tablecloth; the crest upon the spoons; the
+curious red knobs upon Miss Smeardon's fingers, and the odd mincing
+way she held her fork; the almost athletic efforts of the butler when
+he raised an enormous silver dish-cover, and the curiously frugal and
+unappetizing nature of the viand it disclosed. The wizened face of the
+lap-dog, too, peering over the table's edge, out of Miss Smeardon's
+lap, might have acquired its distrustful expression, Robinette
+thought, from habitual doubts as to whether enough to eat would ever
+be his good fortune. The meal ended with the ceremonious presentation
+to each lady in turn, of three wrinkled apples and two crooked bananas
+in a probably priceless dish of Crown Derby. Then the procession
+re-formed and returned to the drawing room.
+
+"And the evening and the morning were the first day!" sighed Robinette
+to herself in the chilly solitude of her own room. How often could she
+endure the repetition?
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+AT WITTISHAM
+
+
+"May I have a fire to dress by, Benson?" Robinette asked rather
+timidly that night, her head just peeping above the blankets.
+
+"_Fire_?" returned Benson, in italics, with an interrogation point.
+
+Robinette longed to spell the word and ask Benson if it had ever come
+to her notice before, but she stifled her desire and said, "I am quite
+ashamed, Benson, but you see I am not used to the climate yet. If
+you'll pamper me just a little at the beginning, I shall behave better
+presently."
+
+"I will give orders for a fire night and morning, certainly, ma'am,"
+said Benson. "I did not offer it because our ladies never have one in
+their bedrooms at this time of the year. Mrs. de Tracy is very strong
+and active for her age."
+
+"It's my opinion she's a w'eedler," remarked Benson at the housekeeper's
+luncheon table. "She asks for what she wants like a child. She has a
+pretty way with her, I can't deny that, but is she a w'eedler?"
+
+Wheedler or not, Robinette got her fire to dress by, and so was able
+to come down in the morning feeling tolerably warm. It was well that
+she was, for the cold tea and tough toast of the de Tracy breakfast
+had little in them to warm the heart. Conversation languished during
+the meal, and after a walk to the stables Robinette was thankful to
+return to her own room again on the pretext of writing letters. There
+she piled up the fire, drew her chair close up to the hearth, and
+employed herself until noon, when she took her embroidery and joined
+her aunt in the drawing room. Luncheon was announced at half past one,
+and immediately after it Mrs. de Tracy and Miss Smeardon went to their
+respective bedrooms for rest.
+
+"Are there indeed only twelve hours in the day?" Robinette asked
+herself desperately as she heard the great, solemn-toned hall clock
+strike two. It seemed quite impossible that it could be only two; the
+whole afternoon had still to be accounted for, and how? Well, she
+might look over her clothes again, re-arranging them in all their
+dainty variety in the wardrobe and drawers; she might put tissue paper
+into the sleeves of each bodice, smoothing out every crease; she might
+even find that some tiny repairs were needed! There were three new
+hats, and several pairs of new gloves to be tried on; her accounts
+must be made up, her cheque book balanced; yet all these things would
+take but a short time. Then the hall clock struck three.
+
+"I must go out," she thought.
+
+Coming through the hall from her room Robinette met her aunt and Miss
+Smeardon descending the staircase.
+
+"We are driving this afternoon," said Mrs. de Tracy, "would you not
+like to come with us?"
+
+The thought turned Robinette to stone: she had visited the stables,
+and seen the coachman lead what seemed to her a palsied horse out into
+the yard. Her sympathetic allusion to the supposed condition of the
+steed had not been well received, for the man had given her to
+understand that this was the one horse of the establishment, but
+Robinette had vowed never to sit behind it.
+
+"I think I'd rather walk, Aunt de Tracy," she said, "I'd like to go
+and see my mother's old nurse, Mrs. Prettyman. Can I do any errands
+for you?"
+
+"None, thank you. To go to Wittisham you have to cross the ferry,
+remember."
+
+"Oh! that must be simple! you may be sure I shall not lose myself!"
+said Robinette.
+
+Both the older women looked curiously at her for a moment; then Mrs.
+de Tracy said:--
+
+"You will kindly not use the public ferry; the footman will row you
+across to Wittisham at any hour you may mention to him."
+
+"Oh, but Aunt de Tracy, I'd really prefer the public ferry."
+
+"Nonsense, impossible; the footman shall row you," said Mrs. de Tracy
+with finality.
+
+Robinette said nothing; she hated the idea of the footman, but it
+seemed inevitable. "Am I never to get away from their dullnesses?" she
+thought. "A public ferry sounds quite lively in place of being rowed
+by William!"
+
+When the shore was reached, however, Robinette discovered that the
+passage across the river in a leaky little boat, rowed by a painfully
+inexperienced servant, was almost too much for her. To see him
+fumbling with the oars, made her tingle to take them herself; she
+could not abide the irritation of a return journey with such a
+boatman. This determination was hastened when she saw that instead of
+the three-decker steamer of her native land, the ferry at Wittisham
+was just like an ordinary row-boat; that one rang a bell hanging from
+a picturesque tower; that a nice young man with a sprig of wallflower
+in his cap rowed one across, and that each passenger handed out a
+penny to him on the farther side.
+
+"How enchantingly quaint!" she cried. "William, you can go home; I
+shall return by the public ferry."
+
+William looked surprised but only replied, "Very good, ma'am."
+
+On warm summer afternoons the tiny square of Mrs. Prettyman's garden
+made as delightful a place to sit in as one could wish. There was
+sunshine on the turf, and a thin shade was cast by the drooping boughs
+of the plum tree; just enough to shelter old eyes from the glare. When
+she was very tired with doing her work Mrs. Prettyman would totter out
+into the garden. She was getting terribly lame now, yet afraid to
+acknowledge it, knowing, with the desperate wisdom of poverty, that
+once to give in, very often ended in giving up altogether. So her
+lameness was 'blamed on the weather,' 'blamed on scrubbing the
+floor,' blamed on anything rather than the tragic, incurable fact of
+old age. This afternoon her rheumatism had been specially bad: she had
+an inclination to cry out when she rose from her chair, and every step
+was an effort. Yet the sunshine was tempting; it warmed old and aching
+bones through and through as no fire could do; and Mrs. Prettyman
+thought she must make the effort to go out.
+
+She had just arrived at this conclusion, when a tap came to the door.
+
+"That you, Mrs. Darke?" she called out in her piping old voice. "Come
+in, me dear, I'm that stiff with me rheumatics to-day I can't scarce
+rise out of me chair."
+
+"It's not Mrs. Darke," said Robinette, stooping to enter through the
+tiny doorway. "It's a stranger, Mrs. Prettyman, come all the way from
+America to see you."
+
+"Lor' now, Miss, whoever may you be?" the old woman cried, making as
+if she would rise from her chair. But Robinette caught her arm and
+made her sit still.
+
+"Don't get up; please sit right there where you are, and I'll take
+this chair beside you. Now, Mrs. Prettyman, look at me hard, and tell
+me if you know who I am."
+
+The old woman gazed into Robinette's face, and then a light seemed to
+break over her.
+
+"It's Miss Cynthia's daughter you are!" she cried. "My Miss Cynthia as
+went and married in America!"
+
+She caught Robinette's white ringed hands in hers, and Robinette bent
+down and kissed the wrinkled old face.
+
+"I know that mother loved you, Nurse," she said. "She used often,
+often to tell me about you."
+
+After the fashion of old people, Mrs. Prettyman was too much moved to
+speak. Her face worked all over, and then slow tears began to run down
+her furrowed cheeks. She got up from her chair and walked across the
+uneven floor, leaning on a stick.
+
+"I've something here, Miss, I've something here; something I never
+parts with," she said. A tall chest of drawers stood against the wall,
+and the old woman began to search among its contents as she spoke. At
+last she found a little kid shoe, laid away in a handkerchief.
+
+"See here, Miss! here's my Miss Cynthia's shoe! 'T was tied on to my
+wedding coach the day I got married and left her. My 'usband 'e
+laughed at me cruel because I'd have that shoe with me; but I've kept
+it ever since."
+
+Robinette came and stood beside her, and they both wept together over
+the silly little shoe.
+
+"I want to talk a great deal to you, Nurse; I want to tell you all
+about mother and father, and how they died," said Robinette through
+her tears. How strange that she should have to come to this cottage
+and to this poor old woman before she found anyone to whom she could
+speak of her beloved dead! Her heart was so full that she could
+scarcely speak. A crowd of memories rushed into her mind; last scenes
+and parting words; those innumerable unforgettable details that are
+printed once for all upon the heart that loves and feels.
+
+"I'd like to tell you about it out of doors, Nurse dear," she said
+tearfully; "can you come out under the plum tree in your garden? It's
+lovely there."
+
+"Yes, dearie, yes, we'll come out under the plum tree, we will,"
+echoed Mrs. Prettyman.
+
+"See, Nursie, take my arm, I'll help you out into the warm sunshine,"
+Robinette said.
+
+They progressed very slowly, the old woman leaning with all her weight
+upon the arm of her strong young helper. Then under the flickering
+shade of the tree they sat down together for their talk.
+
+So much to tell, so much to hear, the afternoon slipped away unknown
+to them, and still they were sitting there hand in hand talking and
+listening; sometimes crying a little, sometimes laughing; a queerly
+assorted couple, these new-made friends.
+
+But when all the recollections had been talked over and wept over,
+when Mrs. Prettyman had told Robinette, with the extraordinary detail
+that old people can put into their memories of long ago, all that she
+remembered of Cynthia de Tracy's childhood, then Robinette began to
+question the old woman about her own life. Was she comfortable? Was
+she tolerably well off? Or had she difficulty in making ends meet?
+
+To these questions Mrs. Prettyman made valiant answers: she had a fine
+spirit, and no wish to let a stranger see the skeleton in the
+cupboard. But Robinette's quick instinct pierced through the veil of
+well-meant bravery and touched the truth.
+
+"Nurse dear," she said, "you say you're comfortable, and well off, but
+you won't mind my telling you that I just don't quite believe you."
+
+"Oh, my dear heart, what's that you be sayin'? callin' of me a liar?"
+chuckled the old woman fondly.
+
+Robinette rose from her seat on the bench and stood back to
+scrutinize the cottage. It was exquisitely picturesque, but this
+very picturesqueness constituted its danger; for the place was a
+perfect death trap. The crumbling cob-walls that had taken on those
+wonderful patches of green colour, soaked in the damp like a sponge:
+the irregularity of the thatched roof that looked so well, admitted
+trickles of rain on wet nights; and the uneven mud floor of the
+kitchen revealed the fact that the cottage had been built without any
+proper foundation. The door did not fit, and in cold weather a
+knife-like draught must run in under it. All this Robinette's
+quick, practical glance took in; she gave a little nod or two,
+murmuring to herself, "A new thatch roof, a new door, a new cement
+floor." Then she came and sat down again.
+
+"Tell me now, how much do you have to live on every week, Nurse?" she
+asked.
+
+"Oh, Miss Robinette--ma'am, I should say--'t is wonderful how I gets
+on; and then there's the plum tree--just see the flourish on it,
+Missie dear! 'T will have a crop o' plums come autumn will about drag
+down the boughs! I don't know how 't would be with me without I had
+the plum tree."
+
+"Do you really make something by it?" Robinette asked.
+
+The old woman chuckled again. "To be sure I makes; makes jam every
+autumn; a sight o' jam. Come inside again, me dear, an' see me jam
+cupboard and you'll know."
+
+She hobbled into the kitchen, and opened the door of a wall press in
+the corner. There, row above row stood a solid phalanx of jam pots; it
+seemed as if a whole town might be supplied out of Mrs. Prettyman's
+cupboard.
+
+"'T is well thought of, me jam," the old woman said, grinning with
+pleasure. "I be very careful in the preparing of 'en; gets a penny the
+pound more for me jam than others, along of its being so fine."
+
+Robinette was charmed to see that here Mrs. Prettyman had a reliable
+source of income, however slender.
+
+"How much do you reckon to get from it every year?" she asked.
+
+"Going five pounds, dear: four pounds fifteen shillings and sixpence,
+last autumn; and please the Lord there's a better crop this season, so
+'t will be the clear five pounds. Oh! I do be loving me plum tree like
+a friend, I do."
+
+They turned back into the sunshine again, that Robinette should admire
+this wonderful tree-friend once more. She stood under its shadow with
+great delight, as the Bible says, gazing up through the intricate
+network of boughs and blossom to the cloudless blue above her.
+
+"It's heavenly, Nurse, just heavenly!" she sighed as she came and sat
+down beside the old woman again.
+
+"Then there's me duck too, Missie! Lard, now I don't know how I'd be
+without I had me duck. Duckie I calls 'er and Duckie she is; company
+she is, too, to me mornin's, with her 'Quack, Quack,' under the
+winder."
+
+So the old woman prattled on, giving Robinette all the history of her
+life, with its tiny joys and many struggles, till it seemed to the
+listener that she had always known Mrs. Prettyman, the plum tree, and
+her duck--known them and loved them, all three.
+
+
+
+
+VI
+
+MARK LAVENDAR
+
+
+Hundreds of years ago the street of Stoke Revel village, if street it
+could be called, and the tower of the ancient church, must have looked
+very much the same as now.
+
+On such a day, when the oak woods were budding, and the English birds
+singing, and the spring sun was hot in a clear sky, a knight riding
+down the steep lane would have taken the same turn to the left on his
+way to the Manor. Were he a young man, he would probably have reined
+up his horse for a moment, and looked, as Mark Lavendar did now, at
+the blithe landscape before him. Only then the accessories would have
+been so different: the great horse, somewhat tired by long hours of
+riding, the armour that glinted in the sun, the casque pushed up to
+let the fresh air play upon the rider's face; such a figure must have
+often stood just at that turn where the lane wound up the little hill.
+The landscape was the same, and young men in all ages are very much
+the same, so--although this one had merely arrived by train, and
+walked from the nearest station--Mark Lavendar stopped and leaned over
+the low wall when he came to the turn of the road, and looked down at
+the river.
+
+He boasted no war horse nor armour; none of the trappings of the older
+world added to his distinction, and yet he was a very pleasing figure
+of a man.
+
+The gaunt brown face was quite hard and solemn in expression; ugly,
+but not commonplace, for as a friend once said of him, "His eyes seem
+to belong to another person." It was not this, but only that the eyes,
+blue as Saint Veronica's flower, showed suddenly a different aspect of
+the man, an unexpected tenderness that flatly contradicted the hard
+features of his face. He looked very nice when he laughed too, so
+that most people when they had found out the trick, tried to make him
+laugh as often as possible.
+
+"What a day! Heavens! what a lovely day," he said to himself as he
+leaned on the low wall. "I want to be courting Amaryllis somewhere in
+these woods, and instead I've got to go and talk business with that
+old woman;" and he looked ruefully towards the Manor House; for this
+was not his first visit by any means, and he knew only too well the
+hours of boredom that awaited him. Mrs. de Tracy, strange to say, had
+a soft side towards this young man, the son of her family solicitor.
+Mark was invariably sent down by his father when there was any
+business to be transacted at Stoke Revel. The older man was fond of a
+good dinner, and hated circumlocution about affairs, and it was only
+when a death in the family, or some other crucial event, made his
+presence absolutely necessary that he came down himself. Mark was
+sacrificed instead, and many a wearisome hour had he spent in that
+house. However on this occasion he had been glad enough to get out of
+London for a while; the country was divine, and even the de Tracy
+business did not occupy the whole day. There would be hours on the
+river; afternoons spent riding along those green lanes through which
+he had just passed, where the banks were starred with little vivid
+flowers. Mark had an almost childish delight in such beauty. He had
+loitered on the way along, flung himself down on a bank for a few
+minutes, and burying his face amongst the flowers, listened with a
+smile upon his mouth to the birds that chirruped in the branches of
+the oak above him.
+
+Now he leaned on the low wall, and gazed at the shining reaches of the
+river. "What a day!" he said to himself again. "What a divine
+afternoon"; then he added quite simply, "I wish I were in love;
+everyone under eighty ought to be, on such a day!"
+
+Even at the age of thirty most men of any personal attractions have
+some romantic memories. Lavendar had his share, but somehow that
+morning he was disconcertingly candid to himself. It may have been the
+sudden change from London air and London noise; something in the clear
+transparency of the April day, in the flute-like melody of the birds'
+song, in the dream-like beauty of the scene before him, that made all
+the moth and rust that had consumed the remembrances of the past more
+apparent. There was little of the treasure of heaven there,--it had
+mostly been nonsense or vanity or worse. He wanted, oh, how he wanted,
+to be able just for once to surrender himself to what was absolutely
+ideal; to have a memory when he was an old man, of something that had
+no fault in it.
+
+"No, I've never been really in love," he said to himself, "I may as
+well confess it; and I daresay I never shall be, but marry on an
+impulse like most men, make the best of it afterwards, and have a
+sort of middle-class happiness in the end of the day."
+
+"One, Two, Three," said the church clock from the ancient tower,
+booming out the note, and Lavendar started, and rubbed his hands
+across his dazzled eyes. "Luncheon is a late meal in that awful house,
+if I remember," he said, "but it must be over by this time. I really
+must go in. Let me collect my thoughts; the business is 'just things
+in general,' but especially the sale of some cottage or other and the
+land it stands on. Yes, yes, I remember; the papers are all right. Now
+for the old ladies."
+
+He made his entrance into the Manor drawing room a few minutes later
+with a charming smile.
+
+Mrs. de Tracy actually walked a few steps to meet him, with a greeting
+less frigid than usual.
+
+"I'm glad to see you, Mark," said she. "Bates said you preferred to
+walk from the station."
+
+Mark turned his kind eyes on Miss Smeardon, and held her knuckly hand
+in his own almost tenderly. It was a very bad habit, which had led to
+some mischief in the past, that when he was sorry for a thing he
+wanted to be very kind to it; and this made him unusually pleasing,
+and dangerous!
+
+"Business first and pleasure afterwards; excellent maxim!" he said to
+himself half an hour later, as he removed the dust of travel from his
+person, preparatory to an interview with Mrs. de Tracy. "Now for it!"
+
+He liked the drawing room at Stoke Revel and always wished it had
+other occupants when he entered it. This afternoon it seemed
+particularly agreeable, the open windows letting in the slanting
+sunshine and a strong scent of jonquils and sweet briar.
+
+"Well, Mrs. de Tracy," said Mark, "I am my father's spokesman, you
+know, and we have serious business to discuss. But tell me first,
+how's my young friend Carnaby?"
+
+"Thank you; my grandson has a severe attack of quinsy," replied Mrs.
+de Tracy. "He is to have sick-leave whenever the Endymion returns to
+Portsmouth."
+
+"Oh! Carnaby will make short work of an attack of quinsy," said
+Lavendar, genially.
+
+"It would please me better," retorted Mrs. de Tracy severely, "if my
+grandson showed signs of mental improvement as well as bodily health.
+His letters are ill-spelled, ill-written, and ill-expressed. They are
+the letters of a school-boy."
+
+"He is not much more than a school-boy, is he?" suggested Mark, "only
+fifteen! The mental improvement will come; too soon, for my taste. I
+like Carnaby as he is!"
+
+The young man had seated himself beside his hostess in an attitude of
+perfect ease. Though bored by his present environment, he was entirely
+at home in it. Just because he greatly dared towards her and was never
+afraid, Mrs. de Tracy liked him. With the mere flicker of an eyelid,
+she dismissed the attendant Smeardon.
+
+"There has been an offer for the land at Wittisham," Lavendar said,
+when they were alone.
+
+Mrs. de Tracy winced. "That is no matter of congratulation with me,"
+she said bleakly.
+
+"But it is with us, for it is a most excellent one!" returned the
+young man hardily. "The firm has had the responsibility of advising
+the sale, which we consider absolutely unavoidable in the present
+financial condition of Stoke Revel. We have advertised for a year, and
+advertisement is costly. Now comes an offer of a somewhat peculiar
+kind, but sound enough." Lavendar here produced a bundle of documents
+tied with the traditional red tape. "An artist," he continued,
+"Waller, R. A.--you know the name?"
+
+"I do not," interpolated Mrs. de Tracy grimly.
+
+"Nevertheless, a well known painter," persisted Mark, "and one, as it
+happens, of the orchard scenery of this part of England. He has known
+Wittisham for a long time, and only last year he made a success with
+the painting of a plum tree which grows in front of one of the
+cottages. It was sold for a large sum, and, as a matter of sentiment,
+I suppose, Waller wishes to buy the cottage and make it into a summer
+retreat or studio for himself."
+
+"He cannot buy it," said Mrs. de Tracy with the snort of a war horse.
+
+"He cannot buy it apart from the land," insinuated Mark, "but he is
+flush of cash and ready to buy the land too--very nearly as much as we
+want to sell, and the bargain merely waits your consent. The sum that
+has been agreed upon is of the kind that a man in the height of his
+triumph offers for a fancy article. No such sum will ever be offered
+for land at Wittisham again; old orchard land, falling into desuetude
+as it is and covered with condemned cottages."
+
+Mrs. de Tracy was sternly silent, and Mark awaited her next words with
+some curiosity. He felt like a torturer drawing the tooth of a Jew in
+the good old days. This sale of land was a bitter pill to the widow,
+as it well might be, for it was the beginning of the end, as the de
+Tracy solicitors could have told you. There had been de Tracys of
+Stoke Revel since Queen Elizabeth's time, but there would not be de
+Tracys of Stoke Revel much longer,--unless young Carnaby married an
+heiress when he came of age--and that no de Tracy had ever done.
+
+"The land across the river," Mrs. de Tracy said at last, "was the
+first land the de Tracys held, but much of it went at the Restoration.
+Well, let this go too!" she added harshly.
+
+Mark blessed himself that indecision was no part of the lady's
+character and sighed with relief. "My father would like to know," he
+said, "what you propose to do with regard to the old woman who is the
+present tenant of the cottage."
+
+"Elizabeth Prettyman is not a tenant," said Mrs. de Tracy coldly.
+"She is practically a pensioner, since she lives rent-free."
+
+"True, I forgot," said Mark soothingly. "I beg your pardon."
+
+"Do not suppose that it is by my wish," continued Mrs. de Tracy
+coldly. "I have never approved of supporting the peasantry in
+idleness. This woman happened to be for some years nurse to Cynthia de
+Tracy, my husband's younger sister, who deeply offended her family by
+marrying an American named Bean. I see no claim in that to a pension
+of any kind."
+
+"But your husband saw it, I imagine," interpolated Mark quietly, and
+Mrs. de Tracy gave him a fierce look, which he met, however, without a
+sign of flinching.
+
+"My husband had a mistaken idea that Prettyman was poor when she
+became a widow," said Mrs. de Tracy. "On the contrary she had
+relations quite well able to support her, I believe. I never cross the
+river, in these days, and the matter has escaped my memory, so that
+things have been left as they were."
+
+"No great loss," said Mark candidly, "since the cottage in its present
+state is utterly unfit for any tenant. As to Prettyman, is it your
+intention to give her notice to quit?"
+
+"Unquestionably, since the cottage is needed," answered Mrs. de Tracy.
+"She has occupied it too long as it is." The speaker's lips closed
+like a vice over the words.
+
+"God pity Elizabeth Prettyman!" ejaculated Lavendar to himself. "Might
+is Right still, apparently, at Stoke Revel!" Aloud he merely said, "A
+weak deference to public opinion was never a foible of yours, Mrs. de
+Tracy; but I think I would advise you to consider some question of
+compensation to Mrs. Prettyman for the loss of the cottage."
+
+"If you can show me that the woman has any legal claim upon the
+estate, I will consider the question, but not otherwise," said Mrs. de
+Tracy with such an air of finality that Lavendar was inclined to let
+the matter drop for the moment.
+
+"The firm," he said, "will communicate your wishes to Mrs. Prettyman
+by letter."
+
+"Prettyman cannot read," snapped Mrs. de Tracy. "She must be told, and
+the sooner the better."
+
+"Well, Mrs. de Tracy," said the young man with a short laugh,
+"provided it is not I who have to tell her, well and good. I warn you
+the task would not be to my taste unless compensation were offered
+her."
+
+Mrs. de Tracy's features hardened to a degree unusual even to her.
+
+"I am apparently less tender-hearted than you," she said sardonically.
+"I shall, if I think fit, deal with Prettyman in person." The subject
+was dropped, and Lavendar rose to leave the room, but Mrs. de Tracy
+detained him.
+
+"The Admiral's niece, Mrs. David Loring, is my guest at present," she
+said. "It happens that she has crossed the river to Wittisham and is
+paying a visit to Prettyman. I should be obliged, Mark, if you would
+row across and fetch her back, as by some misunderstanding, my servant
+has not waited for her. You are an oarsman, I know."
+
+The young man consented with alacrity. "I shall kill two birds with
+one stone," he said cheerfully, "I shall visit the famous plum tree
+cottage and see Mrs. Prettyman for myself; and I shall have the
+privilege of executing your commission as Mrs. Loring's escort. It
+sounds a very agreeable one!"
+
+"You have no time to lose," said Mrs. de Tracy with a glance at the
+clock.
+
+
+
+
+VII
+
+A CROSS-EXAMINATION
+
+
+Lavendar escaped from the house, where, even in the smoke-room, it
+seemed unregenerate to light a cigar, and took the path to the shore.
+
+"I wonder if one woman staying in a house full of men would find life
+as depressing as I do cooped up here under precisely opposite
+circumstances," he thought, as he made his way through the little
+churchyard. "It cannot be the atmosphere of femininity that bores me,
+however, for Mrs. de Tracy has a strongly masculine flavour and Miss
+Smeardon is as nearly neuter as a person can be."
+
+He took a couple of oars from the boat-house as he passed, and going
+to the little landing stage untied the boat and started for the
+farther shore.
+
+It was good to feel the water parting under his vigorous strokes and
+delightful to exert his strength after the hours of stifled irritation
+at the Manor. It was a bright, calm close of day, when in the rarefied
+evening air each sound began to acquire the sharpness that marks the
+hour. He could hear the rush of the waters behind the boat and the
+voices of the fishers farther up the stream. As he drew up to the bank
+and took in his oars the stillness was so great that you could have
+heard a pin fall, when suddenly from a tree above him a bird broke
+into one little finished song and then was still, as if it had uttered
+all it wished to say.
+
+"What a heavenly evening!" thought Lavendar, "and what a lovely spot!
+That must be the cottage just above me. Mrs. de Tracy said I should
+know it by the plum tree. Ah, there it is!" Tying up the boat he
+sprang up the steps and walked along the flagged path. The plum tree
+these last few days had begun to look its fairest. The blossoms did
+not yet conceal the leaves, but it was a very bower of beauty already.
+There was a little table spread for tea under its branches, and an old
+woman like thousands of old women in thousands of cottages all over
+England, was sitting behind it, precisely as if she had been a
+coloured illustration in a summer number of an English weekly. She was
+on the typical bench in the typical attitude, but instead of the
+typical old man in a clean smock frock who should have occupied the
+end of the bench, there sat beside her a distinctly lovely young
+woman. What struck Lavendar was the wealth of colour she brought into
+the picture: goldy brown hair, brown tweed dress, with a cape of blue
+cloth slipping off her shoulders, and a brown toque with a pert
+upstanding quill that seemed to express spirit and pluck, and a merry
+heart. His quick glance took in the little hands that held the
+withered old ones. Both heads were bowed and in the brown tweed lap
+was a child's shoe,--a wee, worn, fat shoe. Beside it lay an absurd
+bit of crumpled, tear-soaked embroidery that had been intended to do
+duty as a handkerchief but had evidently proved quite unseaworthy.
+
+Waddling about on the flags close to the little table was a large fat
+duck wearing a look of inexpressible greed. "_Quack, quack, quack_!"
+it said, waddling off angrily as Lavendar approached.
+
+At the sound of the duck's raucous voice both the women looked up.
+
+"Is this Mrs. Prettyman's cottage, ma'am?" Lavendar asked with his
+charming smile.
+
+"Yes, sir, 't is indeed, and who may you be, if I may be so bold as to
+ask?"
+
+"I'm Mr. Lavendar, Mrs. de Tracy's lawyer, Mrs. Prettyman. I'm come to
+do some business at Stoke Revel," he added, for the old face had
+clouded over, and Mrs. Prettyman's whole expression changed to one of
+timid mistrust. "I really was sent by Mrs. de Tracy," he went on,
+turning to Robinette, "to take you home; Mrs. Loring, isn't it?"
+
+"Yes, I am Mrs. Loring," she said, frankly holding out her hand to
+him. "I knew you were expected at Stoke Revel, but I sent the footman
+back myself. He spoils the scenery and the river altogether."
+
+"I've got a boat down there; Mrs. de Tracy doesn't quite like your
+taking the ferry; may I have the honour of rowing you across? My
+orders were to bring you back as soon as possible."
+
+"I'm blest if I hurry," was his unspoken comment as Robinette gaily
+agreed, and, having bidden good-bye to the old woman, with a quick
+caress that astonished him a good deal, she laid down the little shoe
+gently upon the bench, and turned to accompany him to the boat.
+
+The river was like a looking-glass; the air like balm. "We'll
+take some time getting across, against the tide," said Lavendar
+reflectively, as he resolved that the little voyage should be
+prolonged to its fullest possible extent. He was not going into
+the Manor a moment earlier than he could help, when this charming
+person was sitting opposite to him. So this was Mrs. Loring! How
+different from the stout middle-aged lady whom Mrs. de Tracy's
+words had conjured up when he set out to find her!
+
+"Old Mrs. Prettyman was my mother's nurse," Robinette remarked as
+Lavendar dipped his oars gently into the stream and began to row. "I
+went to see her feeling quite grown up, and she seemed to consider me
+still a child; I was feeling about four years old at the moment when
+you appeared and woke me to the real world again."
+
+She had dried her eyes now and had pulled her hat down so as to shade
+her face, but Lavendar could see the traces of her weeping, and the
+dear little ineffectual rag of a handkerchief was still in one hand.
+
+"What on earth was she crying about?" he thought, as with lowered eyes
+he rowed very slowly across, only just keeping the boat's head
+against the current, and glancing now and then at the young woman.
+
+Was it possible that this lovely person was going to be his
+fellow-guest in that dull house? "My word! but she's pretty! and what
+were the tears about ... and the little shoe? Did it belong to a child
+of her own? Can she be a widow, I wonder," said Lavendar to himself.
+
+"I often think," he said suddenly, raising his head, "that when two
+people meet for the first time as utter strangers to each other, they
+should be encouraged, not forbidden, to ask plain questions. It may be
+my legal training, but I'd like all conversation to begin in that way.
+As a child I was constantly reproved for my curiosity, especially when
+I once asked a touchy old gentleman, 'Which is your glass eye? The one
+that moves, or the one that stands still?'"
+
+The tears had dried, the hat was pushed back again, the young woman's
+face broke into an April smile that matched the day and the weather.
+
+"Oh, come, let us do it," she exclaimed. "I'd love to play it like a
+new game: we know nothing at all about each other, any more than if we
+had dropped from the moon into the boat together. Oh! do be quick!
+We've so little time; the river is quite narrow; who's to open the
+ball?"
+
+"I'll begin, by right of my profession; put the witness in the box,
+please.--What is your name, madam?"
+
+"Robinette Loring," she said demurely, clasping her hands on her knee,
+an almost childlike delight in the new game dimpling the corners of
+her mouth from time to time.
+
+"What is your age, madam?" Lavendar hesitated just for a moment before
+putting this question.
+
+"I refuse to answer; you must guess."
+
+"Contempt of Court--"
+
+"Well, go on; I'm twenty-two and six weeks."
+
+"Thank you, you are remarkably well preserved. I can hardly
+believe--those six-weeks! What nationality?"
+
+"American, of course, or half and half; with an English mother and
+American ideas."
+
+"Thank you. Where is your present place of residence?"
+
+"Stoke Revel Manor House."
+
+"What is the duration of the visit?"
+
+"Fixed at a month, but may be shortened at any time for bad
+behaviour."
+
+"Your purpose in coming to Stoke Revel?"
+
+"A Sentimental Journey, in search of fond relations."
+
+"Have you found these relations?"
+
+"I've found them; but the fondness is still to seek."
+
+"Have you left your family in America?"
+
+"I have no one belonging to me in the world," she answered simply, and
+her bright face clouded suddenly.
+
+There was a moment's rather embarrassed silence. "It's getting to be a
+sad game"; she said. "It's my turn now. I'll be the cross-examiner,
+but not having had your legal training, I'll tell you a few facts
+about this witness to begin with. He's a lawyer; I know that already.
+Your Christian name, sir?"
+
+"Mark."
+
+"Mark Lavendar. 'Mark the perfect man.' Where have I heard that; in
+Pope or in the Bible? Thank you; very good; your age is between thirty
+and thirty-five, with a strong probability that it is thirty-three. Am
+I right?"
+
+"Approximately, madam."
+
+"You are unmarried, for married men don't play games like this; they
+are too sedate."
+
+"You reassure me! Am I expected to acknowledge the truth of all your
+observations?"
+
+"You have only to answer my questions, sir."
+
+"I am unmarried, madam."
+
+"Your nationality?"
+
+"English of course. You don't count a French grandmother, I suppose?"
+
+Robinette clapped her hands. "Of course I do; it accounts for this
+game; it just makes all the difference.--Why have you come to Stoke
+Revel; couldn't you help it?"
+
+A twinkle passed from the blue eyes to the brown ones.
+
+"I am here on business connected with the estate."
+
+"For how long?"
+
+"An hour ago I thought all might be completed in a few days, but these
+affairs are sometimes unaccountably prolonged!" (Was there another
+twinkle? Robinette could hardly say.) They were half-way across the
+river now. She leaned over and looked at herself in the water for a
+moment.
+
+Lavendar rested on his oars, and began to rub the palms of his hands,
+smiling a little to himself as he bent his head.
+
+"Yours is an odd Christian name," he said. "I've never heard it
+before."
+
+"Then you haven't visited your National Gallery faithfully enough,"
+said Mrs. Loring. "Robinetta is one of the Sir Joshua pictures there,
+you know, and it was a great favourite of my mother's in her girlhood.
+Indeed she saved up her pin-money for nearly two years that she might
+have a good copy of it made to hang in her bedroom where she could
+look at it night and morning."
+
+"Then you were named after the picture?"
+
+"I was named from the memory of it," said Robinette, trailing her hand
+through the clear water. "Mother took nothing to America with her but
+my father's love (there was so much of that, it made up for all she
+left behind), so the picture was thousands of miles away when I was
+born. Mother told me that when I was first put into her arms she
+thought suddenly, as she saw my dark head, 'Here is my own Robinetta,
+in place of the one I left behind,' and fell asleep straight away,
+full of joy and content."
+
+"And they shortened the name to Robinette?"
+
+"I was christened properly enough," she answered. "It was the world
+that clipped my name's little wings; the world refuses to take me
+seriously; I can't think why, I'm sure; I never regarded _it_ as a
+joke."
+
+"A joke," said Lavendar reflectively; "it's a sort of grim one at
+times; and yet it's funny too," he said, suddenly raising his eyes.
+
+"Now that's the odd thing I was thinking as I looked at you just now,"
+Robinette said frankly. "You seem so deadly solemn until you look up
+and laugh--and then you _do_ laugh, you know. That's the French
+grandmother again! It was nice in her to marry your grandfather! It
+helped a lot!"
+
+He laughed then certainly, and so did she, and then pointed out to him
+that they were being slowly drifted out of their course, and that if
+he meant to get across to the landing-stage he must row a little
+harder.
+
+"I have met American women casually;" he said, bending to his oars,
+"but I have never known one well."
+
+"It's rather too bad to disturb the tranquillity of your impressions,"
+returned Mrs. Loring composedly.
+
+Lavendar looked up with another twinkle. She seemed to provoke
+twinkles; he did not realize he had so many in stock.
+
+"You mean American women are not painted in quite the right colours?"
+
+"I suppose black _is_ a colour?"
+
+"Oh! I see your point of view!" and Lavendar twinkled again.
+
+"I can tell you in five sentences exactly what you have heard about
+us. Will you say whether I am right? If you refuse I'll put you in the
+witness box and then you'll be forced to speak!"
+
+"Very well; proceed."
+
+"One: We are clever, good conversationalists, and as cold as
+icicles."
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Two: We dress beautifully and use extravagant means to compass our
+ends in this direction."
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Three: We keep our overworked husbands under strict discipline."
+
+"Yes! I say,--I don't like this game."
+
+"Neither do I, but it's very much played,--"
+
+"Four: We prefer hotels to home life and don't bring up our children
+well."
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Five: We interfere with the proper game laws by bagging English
+husbands instead of staying on our own preserves. That's about all, I
+think. Were not those rumours tolerably familiar to you in the
+ha'penny papers and their human counterparts?"
+
+Lavendar was so amused by this direct storming of his opinion that he
+could hardly keep his laughter within bounds. "I've heard one other
+criticism," he said, "that you were all pretty and all had small feet
+and hands! I am now able to declare that to be a base calumny and to
+hope that all the others will prove just as false!" Then Robinette
+laughed too; eyes, lips, cheeks! When Lavendar looked at her he wished
+that his father would keep him at Stoke Revel for a month.
+
+The sun was going down now, and the rising tide came swelling up from
+the sea, lifting itself and silently swelling the volume of the river,
+in a way that had something awful about it. The whole current of the
+great stream was against it, but behind was the force of the sea and
+so it filled and filled with hardly a ripple, as the heart is filled
+with a new desire. Up from the mouth of the river came a faint breeze
+bringing the taste of the ocean into the deeply wooded creeks. It had
+freshened into a little wind, as they drew up at the boat-house, that
+flapped Robinette's blue cape about her, and dyed the colour in her
+cheeks to a livelier tint. As they walked up the narrow pathway to the
+house a deep silence fell between them that neither attempted to
+break.
+
+At the top of the hill, she paused to take breath, and look across the
+river. It was half dark already there, on the other side in the deep
+shadow of the hill; and a lamp in the window of the cottage shone like
+a star beside the faintly green shape of the budding plum tree.
+
+As Robinette entered the door of the Manor House she took out her
+little gold-meshed purse and handed Mark Lavendar a penny.
+
+"It's none too much," she said, meeting his astonished gaze with a
+smile. "I should have had to pay it on the public ferry, and you were
+ever so much nicer than the footman!"
+
+Lavendar put the penny in his waistcoat pocket and has never spent it
+to this day. It is impossible to explain these things; one can only
+state them as facts. Another fact, too, that he suddenly remembered,
+when he went to his room, was, that the moment her personality touched
+his he was filled with curiosity about her. He had met hundreds of
+women and enjoyed their conversation, but seldom longed to know on the
+instant everything that had previously happened to them.
+
+
+
+
+VIII
+
+SUNDAY AT STOKE REVEL
+
+
+On Sundays, the Stoke Revel household was expected to appear at church
+in full strength, visitors included.
+
+"We meet in the hall punctually at a quarter to eleven," it was Miss
+Smeardon's duty to announce to strangers. "Mrs. de Tracy always
+prefers that the Stoke Revel guests should walk down together, as it
+sets a good example to the villagers."
+
+"What Nelson said about going to church with Lady Hamilton!" Lavendar
+had once commented, irrepressibly, but the allusion, rather
+fortunately, was lost upon Miss Smeardon. Mark began to picture the
+familiar Sunday scene to himself; Miss Smeardon in the hall at a
+quarter to eleven punctually, marshalling the church-goers; and Mrs.
+Loring,--she would be late of course, and come fluttering downstairs
+in some bewitching combination of flowery hat and floating scarf that
+no one had ever seen before. What a lover's opportunity in this
+lateness, thought the young man to himself; but one could enjoy a walk
+to church in charming company, though something less than a lover.
+
+It was Mrs. de Tracy's custom, on Sunday mornings, to precede her
+household by half an hour in going to the sanctuary. No infirmities of
+old age had invaded her iron constitution, and it was nothing to her
+to walk alone to the church of Stoke Revel, steep though the hill was
+which led down through the ancient village to the yet more ancient
+edifice at its foot. During this solitary interval, Mrs. de Tracy
+visited her husband's tomb, and no one knew, or dared, or cared to
+enquire, what motive encouraged this pious action in a character so
+devoid of tenderness and sentiment. Was it affection, was it duty, was
+it a mere form, a tribute to the greatness of an owner of Stoke
+Revel, such as a nation pays to a dead king? Who could tell?
+
+The graveyard of Stoke Revel owned a yew tree, so very, very old that
+the count of its years was lost and had become a fable or a fairy
+tale. It was twisted, gnarled, and low; and its long branches, which
+would have reached the ground, were upheld, like the arms of some
+dying patriarch, by supports, themselves old and moss-grown. Under the
+spreading of this ancient tree were graves, and from the carved,
+age-eaten porch of the church, a path led among them, under the green
+tunnel, out into the sunny space beyond it. The Admiral lay in a vault
+of which the door was at the side of the church, for no de Tracy, of
+course, could occupy a mere grave, like one of the common herd; and
+here walked the funereal figure of Mrs. de Tracy, fair weather or
+foul, nearly every Sunday in the year.
+
+In justice to Mrs. de Tracy, it must be made plain that with all her
+faults, small spite was not a part of her character. Yet to-day, her
+anger had been stirred by an incident so small that its very
+triviality annoyed her pride. It was Mark Lavendar's custom, when his
+visits to Stoke Revel included a Sunday, cheerfully to evade
+church-going. His Sundays in the country were few, he said, and he
+preferred to enjoy them in the temple of nature, generally taking a
+long walk before lunch. But to-day he had announced his intention of
+coming to service, and well Mrs. de Tracy, versed in men and in human
+nature, knew why. Robinette would be there, and Lavendar followed, as
+the bee follows a basket of flowers on a summer day. As Mrs. de Tracy,
+like the Stoic that she was, accepted all the inevitable facts of
+life,--birth, death, love, hate (she had known them all in her day),
+she accepted this one also. But in that atrophy of every feeling
+except bitterness, that atrophy which is perhaps the only real
+solitude, the only real old age, her animosity was stirred. It was as
+though a dead branch upon some living tree was angry with the spring
+for breathing on it. As she returned, herself unseen in the shadow of
+the yew tree, she saw Lavendar and Robinette enter together under the
+lych-gate, the figure of the young woman touched with sunlight and
+colour, her lips moving, and Lavendar smiling in answer. In the
+clashing of the bells--bells which shook the air, the earth, the
+ancient stones, the very nests upon the trees--their voices were
+inaudible, but in their faces was a young happiness and hope to which
+the solitary woman could not blind herself.
+
+Presently in the lukewarm air within, Robinette was finding the
+church's immemorial smell of prayer-books, hassocks, decaying wood,
+damp stones, matting, school-children, and altar flowers, a harmonious
+and suggestive one if not pleasant. What an ancient air it was, she
+thought; breathed and re-breathed by slow generations of Stoke
+Revellers during their sleepy devotions! The very light that entered
+through the dim stained glass seemed old and dusty, it had seen so
+much during so many hundred years, seen so much, and found out so many
+secrets! Soon the clashing of the bells ceased and upon the still
+reverberating silence there broke the small, snoring noises of a
+rather ineffectual organ, while the amiable curate, Rev. Tobias Finch,
+made his appearance, and the service began.
+
+Mrs. de Tracy had entered the pew first, naturally; Miss Smeardon sat
+next, then Robinetta. Lavendar occupied the pew in front, alone, and
+through her half-closed eyelids Robinetta could see the line of his
+lean cheek and bony temple. He had not wished to sit there at all and
+he was so unresigned as to be badly in need of the soothing influences
+of Morning Prayer. Robinetta was beginning to wonder dreamily what
+manner of man this really was, behind his plain face and non-committal
+manner, when the muffled slam of a door behind, startled her, followed
+as it was by a quick step upon the matted aisle. Then without further
+warning, a big, broad-shouldered boy, in the uniform of a British
+midshipman, thrust himself into the pew beside her, hot and breathless
+after running hard. Mrs. Loring guessed at once that this must be
+Carnaby de Tracy, the young hopeful and heir of Stoke Revel of whom
+Mr. Lavendar had so often spoken, but the startling and unconventional
+nature of his appearance was not at all what one expected in a member
+of his family. Robinette stole more than one look at him as the
+offertory went round; a robust boy with a square chin, a fair face
+burnt red by the sun, a rollicking eye and an impudent nose; not
+handsome certainly, indeed quite plain, but he looked honest and
+strong and clean, and Robinette's frolicsome youth was drawn to his,
+all ready for fun. Carnaby hitched about a good deal, dropped his
+hymn-book, moved the hassock, took out his handkerchief, and on
+discovering a huge hole, turned crimson.
+
+Service over, the congregation shuffled out into the sunshine, and
+Mrs. de Tracy, after a characteristically cool and disapproving
+recognition of her grandson, became occupied with villagers.
+Lavendar made known young Carnaby to Mrs. David Loring, but the
+midshipman's light grey eyes had discovered the pretty face without
+any assistance.
+
+"This lady is your American cousin, Carnaby," said Mark. "Did you know
+you had one?"
+
+"I don't think I did," answered the boy, "but it's never too late to
+mend!" He attempted a bow of finished grown-upness, failed somewhat,
+and melted at once into an engaging boyishness, under which his
+frank admiration of his new-found relative was not to be hidden. "I
+say, are you stopping at Stoke Revel?" he asked, as though the news
+were too good to be true. "Jolly! Hullo--" he broke off with
+animation as the cassocked figure of the Rev. Tobias Finch fluttered
+out from the porch--"here's old Toby! Watch Miss Smeardon now! She
+expects to catch him, you know, but he says he's going to be a
+celly--celly-what-d'you-call-'em?"
+
+"Celibate?" suggested Lavendar, with laughing eyes.
+
+"The very word, thank you!" said Carnaby. "Yes: a celibate. Not so
+easily nicked, good old Toby--you bet!"
+
+"Do the clergymen over here always dress like that?" inquired
+Robinetta, trying to suppress a tendency to laugh at his slang.
+
+"Cassock?" said Carnaby. "Toby wouldn't be seen without it. High, you
+know! Bicycles in it. Fact! Goes to bed in it, I believe."
+
+"Carnaby, Carnaby! Come away!" said Lavendar. "Restrain these flights
+of imagination! Don't you see how they shock Mrs. Loring?"
+
+Before the Manor was reached, Robinetta and Carnaby had sworn eternal
+friendship deeper than any cousinship, they both declared. They met
+upon a sort of platform of Stoke Revel, predestined to sympathy upon
+all its salient characteristics; two naughty children on a holiday.
+
+"Do you get enough to eat here?" asked Carnaby in a hollow whisper, in
+the drawing-room before lunch.
+
+"Of course I have enough, Middy," answered Robinetta with unconscious
+reservation. She had rejected "Carnaby" at once as a name quite
+impossible: he was "Middy" to her almost from the first moment of
+their acquaintance.
+
+"Enough?" he ejaculated, "_I_ don't! I'd never be fed if it weren't
+for old Bates and Mrs. Smith and Cooky." Bates was the butler, Mrs.
+Smith the housekeeper, and Cooky her satellite. "Nobody gets enough to
+eat in this house!" added Carnaby darkly, "except the dog."
+
+At the lunch-table, the antagonism natural between a hot-blooded
+impetuous boy and a grandmother such as Mrs. de Tracy became rather
+painfully apparent. He had already been hauled over the coals for his
+arrival on Sunday and his indecorous appearance in church after
+service had begun.
+
+"It does not appear to me that you are at all in need of sick-leave,"
+said Mrs. de Tracy suspiciously.
+
+Carnaby, sensitive for all his robustness, flushed hotly, and then
+became impertinent. "My pulse is twenty beats too quick still, after
+quinsy. If you don't believe the doctor, ma'am, it's not my fault."
+
+"Carnaby has committed indiscretions in the way of growing since I
+last saw him," Lavendar broke in hastily. "At sixteen one may easily
+outgrow one's strength!"
+
+"Indeed!" said Mrs. de Tracy, frigidly. The situation was saved by the
+behaviour of the lap-dog, which suddenly burst into a passion of
+barking and convulsive struggling in Miss Smeardon's arms. His enemy
+had come, and Carnaby had fifty ways of exasperating his grandmother's
+favourite, secrets between him and the bewildered dog. Rupert was a
+Prince Charles of pedigree as unquestioned as his mistress's and an
+appearance dating back to Vandyke, but Carnaby always addressed him as
+"Lord Roberts," for reasons of his own. It annoyed his grandmother and
+it infuriated the dog, who took it for a deadly insult.
+
+"Lord Roberts! Bobs, old man, hi! hi!" Carnaby had but to say the
+words to make the little dog convulsive. He said them now, and the
+results seemed likely to be fatal to a dropsical animal so soon after
+a full meal.
+
+"You'll kill him!" whispered Robinette as they left the dining room.
+
+"I mean to!" was the calm reply. "I'd like to wring old Smeardon's
+neck too!" but the broad good humour of the rosy face, the twinkling
+eyes, belied these truculent words. In spite of infinite powers of
+mischief, there was not an ounce of vindictiveness in Carnaby de
+Tracy, though there might be other qualities difficult to deal with.
+
+"There's a man to be made there--or to be marred!" said Robinette to
+herself.
+
+
+
+
+IX
+
+POINTS OF VIEW
+
+
+Evenings at Stoke Revel were of a dullness all too deep to be sounded
+and too closely hedged in by tradition and observance to be evaded or
+shortened by the boldest visitor. Lavendar and the boy would have
+prolonged their respite in the smoking room had they dared, but in
+these later days Lavendar found he wished to be below on guard. The
+thought of Robinette alone between the two women downstairs made him
+uneasy. It was as though some bird of bright plumage had strayed into
+a barnyard to be pecked at by hens. Not but what he realised that this
+particular bird had a spirit of her own, and plenty of courage, but no
+man with even a prospective interest in a pretty woman, likes to think
+of the object of his admiration as thoroughly well able to look after
+herself. She must needs have a protector, and the heaven-sent one is
+himself.
+
+He had to take up arms in her defense on this, the first night of his
+arrival. Mrs. Loring had gone up to her room for some photographs of
+her house in America, and as she flitted through the door her scarf
+caught on the knob, and he had been obliged to extricate it. He had
+known her exactly four hours, and although he was unconscious of it,
+his heart was being pulled along the passage and up the stairway at
+the tail-end of that wisp of chiffon, while he listened to her
+retreating footsteps. Closing the door he came back to Mrs. de Tracy's
+side.
+
+"Her dress is indecorous for a widow," said that lady severely.
+
+"Oh, I don't see that," replied Lavendar. "She is in reality only a
+girl, and her widowhood has already lasted two years, you say."
+
+"Once a widow always a widow," returned Mrs. de Tracy sententiously,
+with a self-respecting glance at her own cap and the half-dozen dull
+jet ornaments she affected. Lavendar laughed outright, but she rather
+liked his laughter: it made her think herself witty. Once he had told
+her she was "delicious," and she had never forgotten it.
+
+"That's going pretty far, my dear lady," he replied. "Not all women
+are so faithful to a memory as you. I understand Americans don't wear
+weeds, and to me her blue cape is a delightful note in the landscape.
+Her dresses are conventional and proper, and I fancy she cannot
+express herself without a bit of colour."
+
+"The object of clothing, Mark, is to cover and to protect yourself,
+not to express yourself," said Mrs. de Tracy bitingly.
+
+"The thought of wearing anything bright always makes me shrink,"
+remarked Miss Smeardon, who had never apparently observed the tip of
+her own nose, "but some persons are less sensitive on these points
+than others."
+
+Mrs. de Tracy bowed an approving assent to this. "A widow's only
+concern should be to refrain from attracting notice," she said, as
+though quoting from a private book of proverbial philosophy soon to be
+published.
+
+"Then Mrs. Loring might as well have burned herself on her husband's
+funeral pyre, Hindoo fashion!" argued Lavendar. "A woman's life hasn't
+ended at two and twenty. It's hardly begun, and I fear the lady in
+question will arouse attention whatever she wears."
+
+"Would she be called attractive?" asked Mrs. de Tracy with surprise.
+
+"Oh, yes, without a doubt!"
+
+"In gentlemen's eyes, I suppose you mean?" said Miss Smeardon.
+
+"Yes, in gentlemen's eyes," answered Lavendar, firmly. "Those of women
+are apparently furnished with different lenses. But here comes the
+fair object of our discussion, so we must decide it later on."
+
+The question of ancestors, a favourite one at Stoke Revel, came up in
+the course of the next evening's conversation, and Lavendar found
+Robinette a trifle flushed but smiling under a double fire of
+questions from Mrs. de Tracy and her companion. Mrs. de Tracy was in
+her usual chair, knitting; Miss Smeardon sat by the table with a piece
+of fancy-work; Robinette had pulled a foot-stool to the hearthrug and
+sat as near the flames as she conveniently could. She shielded her
+face with the last copy of _Punch_, and let her shoulders bask in the
+warmth of the fire, which made flickering shadows on her creamy neck.
+Her white skirts swept softly round her feet, and her favourite
+turquoise scarf made a note of colour in her lap. She was one of those
+women who, without positive beauty, always make pictures of
+themselves.
+
+Lavendar analyzed her looks as he joined the circle, pretending to
+read. "She isn't posing," he thought, "but she ought to be painted.
+She ought always to be painted, each time one sees her, for
+everything about her suggests a portrait. That blue ribbon in her hair
+is fairly distracting! What the dickens is the reason one wants to
+look at her all the time! I've seen far handsomer women!"
+
+"Do you use Burke and Debrett in your country, Mrs. Loring?" Miss
+Smeardon was enquiring politely, as she laid down one red volume after
+the other, having ascertained the complete family tree of a lady who
+had called that afternoon.
+
+Robinette smiled. "I'm afraid we've nothing but telephone or business
+directories, social registers, and 'Who's Who,' in America," she
+said.
+
+"You are not interested in questions of genealogy, I suppose?" asked
+Mrs. de Tracy pityingly.
+
+"I can hardly say that. But I think perhaps that we are more occupied
+with the future than with the past."
+
+"That is natural," assented the lady of the Manor, "since you have so
+much more of it, haven't you? But the mixture of races in your
+country," she continued condescendingly, "must have made you
+indifferent to purity of strain."
+
+"I hope we are not wholly indifferent," said Robinette, as though she
+were stopping to consider. "I think every serious-minded person must
+be proud to inherit fine qualities and to pass them on. Surely it
+isn't enough to give _old_ blood to the next generation--it must be
+_good_ blood. Yes! the right stock certainly means something to an
+American."
+
+"But if you've nothing that answers to Burke and Debrett, I don't see
+how you can find out anybody's pedigree," objected Miss Smeardon. Then
+with an air of innocent curiosity and a glance supposed to be arch,
+"Are the Red Indians, the Negroes, and the Chinese in your so-called
+directories?"
+
+"As many of them as are in business, or have won their way to any
+position among men no doubt are there, I suppose," answered Robinette
+straightforwardly. "I think we just guess at people's ancestry by the
+way they look, act, and speak," she continued musingly. "You can
+'guess' quite well if you are clever at it. No Indians or Chinese ever
+dine with me, Miss Smeardon, though I'd rather like a peaceful Indian
+at dinner for a change; but I expect he'd find me very dull and
+uneventful!"
+
+"Dull!--that's a word I very often hear on American lips," broke in
+Lavendar as he looked over the top of Henry Newbolt's poems. "I
+believe being dull is thought a criminal offence in your country. Now,
+isn't there some danger involved in this fear of dullness?"
+
+"I shouldn't wonder," Robinette answered thoughtfully, looking into
+the fire. "Yes; I dare say there is, but I'm afraid there are social
+and mental dangers involved in _not_ being afraid of it, too!" Her
+mischievous eyes swept the room, with Mrs. de Tracy's solemn figure
+and Miss Smeardon's for its bright ornaments. "The moment a person or
+a nation allows itself to be too dull, it ceases to be quite alive,
+doesn't it? But as to us Americans, Mr. Lavendar, bear with us for a
+few years, we are so ridiculously young! It is our growing time, and
+what you want in a young plant is growth, isn't it?"
+
+"Y-yes," Lavendar replied: then with a twinkle in his blue eyes he
+added: "Only somehow we don't like to hear a plant grow! It should
+manage to perform the operation quite silently, showing not processes
+but results. That's a counsel of perfection, perhaps, but don't slay
+me for plain-speaking, Mrs. Loring!"
+
+Robinette laughed. "I'll never slay you for saying anything so wise
+and true as that!" she said, and Lavendar, flushing under her praise,
+was charmed with her good humour.
+
+"America's a very large country, is it not?" enquired Miss Smeardon
+with her usual brilliancy. "What is its area?"
+
+"Bigger than England, but not as big as the British Empire!" suggested
+Carnaby, feeling the conversation was drifting into his ken.
+
+"It's just the size of the moon, I've heard!" said Robinette
+teasingly. "Does that throw any light on the question?"
+
+"Moonlight!" laughed Carnaby, much pleased with his own wit. "Ha! ha!
+That's the first joke I've made this holidays. _Moonlight!_ Jolly
+good!"
+
+"If you'd take a joke a little more in your stride, my son," said
+Lavendar, "we should be more impressed by your mental sparkles."
+
+"Straighten the sofa-cushions, Carnaby," said his grandmother, "and
+don't lounge. I missed the point of your so-called joke entirely. As
+to the size of a country or anything else, I have never understood
+that it affected its quality. In fruit or vegetables, for instance, it
+generally means coarseness and indifferent flavour." Miss Smeardon
+beamed at this palpable hit, but Mrs. Loring deprived the situation of
+its point by backing up Mrs. de Tracy heartily. She had no opinion of
+mere size, either, she declared.
+
+"You don't stand up for your country half enough," objected Carnaby to
+his cousin. ("Why don't you give the old cat beans?" was his
+supplement, _sotto voce_.)
+
+"Just attack some of my pet theories and convictions, Middy dear, if
+you wish to see me in a rage," said Robinette lightly, "but my motto
+will never be 'My country right or wrong.'"
+
+"Nor mine," agreed Lavendar. "I'm heartily with you there."
+
+"It's a great venture we're trying in America. I wish every one would
+try to look at it in that light," said Robinette with a slight flush
+of earnestness.
+
+"What do you mean by a venture?" asked Mrs. de Tracy.
+
+"The experiment we're making in democracy," answered Robinette. "It's
+fallen to us to try it, for of course it simply had to be tried. It
+is thrillingly interesting, whatever it may turn out, and I wish I
+might live to see the end of it. We are creating a race, Aunt de
+Tracy; think of that!"
+
+"It's as difficult for nations as for individuals to hit the happy
+medium," said Lavendar, stirring the fire. "Enterprise carried too far
+becomes vulgar hustling, while stability and conservatism often pass
+the coveted point of repose and degenerate into torpor."
+
+"This part of England seems to me singularly free from faults,"
+interposed Mrs. de Tracy in didactic tones. "We have a wonderful
+climate; more sunshine than in any part of the island, I believe. Our
+local society is singularly free from scandal. The clergy, if not
+quite as eloquent or profound as in London (and in my opinion it is
+the better for being neither) is strictly conscientious. We have no
+burglars or locusts or gnats or even midges, as I'm told they
+unfortunately have in Scotland, and our dinner-parties, though quiet
+and dignified, are never dull.... What is the matter, Robinetta?"
+
+"A sudden catch in my throat," said Robinette, struggling with some
+sort of vocal difficulty and avoiding Lavendar's eye. "Thank you," as
+he offered her a glass of water from the punctual and strictly
+temperate evening tray. "Don't look at me," she added under her
+voice.
+
+"Not for a million of money!" he whispered. Then he said aloud: "If I
+ever stand for Parliament, Mrs. Loring, I should like you to help me
+with my constituency!"
+
+The unruffled temper and sweet reasonableness of Robinette's answers
+to questions by no means always devoid of malice, had struck the young
+man very much, as he listened.
+
+"She is good!" he thought to himself. "Good and sweet and generous.
+Her loveliness is not only in her face; it is in her heart." And some
+favorite lines began to run in his head that night, with new
+conviction:--
+
+                 He that loves a rosy cheek,
+                   Or a coral lip admires,
+                 Or from star-like eyes doth seek
+                   Fuel to maintain his fires,--
+                 As old Time makes these decay,
+                   So his flames will waste away.
+
+                 But a smooth and steadfast mind,
+                   Gentle thoughts and calm desires,
+                 Hearts with equal love combined--
+
+but here Lavendar broke off with a laugh.
+
+"It's not come to that yet!" he thought. "I wonder if it ever will?"
+
+
+
+
+X
+
+A NEW KINSMAN
+
+
+Young Mrs. Loring was making her way slowly at Stoke Revel Manor, and
+Mrs. de Tracy, though never affectionate, treated her with a little
+less indifference as the days went on. "The Admiral's niece is a
+lady," she admitted to herself privately; "not perhaps the highest
+type of English lady; that, considering her mixed ancestry and
+American education, would be too much to expect; but in the broad,
+general meaning of the word, unmistakably a lady!"
+
+Mrs. Benson, though not melting outwardly as yet, held more lenient
+views still with regard to the American guest. Bates, the butler, was
+elderly, and severely Church of England; his knowledge of widows was
+confined to the type ably represented by his mistress and he regarded
+young Mrs. Loring as inclined to be "flighty." The footman, who was
+entirely under the butler's thumb in mundane matters, had fallen into
+the habit of sharing his opinions, and while agreeing in the general
+feeling of flightiness, declared boldly that the lady in question gave
+a certain "style" to the dinner-table that it had lacked before her
+advent.
+
+For a helpless victim, however, a slave bound in fetters of steel, one
+would have to know Cummins, the under housemaid, who lighted Mrs.
+Loring's fire night and morning. She was young, shy, country bred, and
+new to service. When Mrs. Benson sent her to the guest's room at eight
+o'clock on the morning after her arrival she stopped outside the door
+in a panic of fear.
+
+"Come in!" called a cheerful voice. "Come in!"
+
+Cummins entered, bearing her box with brush and cloth and kindlings.
+To her further embarrassment Mrs. Loring was sitting up in bed with an
+ermine coat on, over which her bright hair fell in picturesque
+disorder. She had brought the coat for theatre and opera, but as these
+attractions were lacking at Stoke Revel and as life there was, to her,
+one prolonged Polar expedition, with dashes farthest north morning and
+evening, she had diverted it to practical uses.
+
+"Make me a quick fire please, a big fire, a hot fire," she begged, "or
+I shall be late for breakfast; I never can step into that tin tub till
+the ice is melted."
+
+"There's no ice in it, ma'am," expostulated Cummins gently, with the
+voice of a wood dove.
+
+"You can't see it because you're English," said the strange lady, "but
+I can see it and feel it. Oh, you make _such_ a good fire! What is
+your name, please?"
+
+"Cummins, ma'am."
+
+"There's another Cummins downstairs, but she is tall and large. You
+shall be 'Little Cummins.'"
+
+Now every morning the shy maid palpitated outside the bedroom door,
+having given her modest knock; palpitated for fear it should be all a
+dream. But no, it was not! there would be a clear-voiced "Come in!"
+and then, as she entered; "Good morning, Little Cummins. I've been
+longing for you since daybreak!" A trifle later on it was, "Good
+Little Cummins bearing coals of comfort! Kind Little Cummins," and
+other strange and wonderful terms of praise, until Little Cummins felt
+herself consumed by a passion to which Mrs. de Tracy's coals became as
+less than naught unless they could be heaped on the altar of the
+beloved.
+
+So life went on at Stoke Revel, outwardly even and often dull, while
+in reality many subtle changes were taking place below the surface;
+changes slight in themselves but not without meaning.
+
+Robinette ran up to her room directly after breakfast one morning and
+pinned on her hat as she came downstairs. Mark Lavendar had gone to
+London for a few days, but even the dullness of breakfast-table
+conversation had not robbed her of her joy in the early sunshine, made
+more cheery by the prospect of a walk with Carnaby, with whom she was
+now fast friends.
+
+Carnaby looked at her beamingly as they stood together on the steps.
+"You're the best turned-out woman of my acquaintance," he said
+approvingly, with a laughable struggle for the tone of a middle-aged
+man of the world.
+
+"How many ladies of fashion do you know, my child?" enquired
+Robinetta, pulling on her gloves.
+
+"I see a lot of 'em off and on," Carnaby answered somewhat huffily,
+"and they don't call me a child either!"
+
+"Don't they? Then that's because they're timid and don't dare address
+a future Admiral as Infant-in-Arms! Come on, Middy dear, let's walk."
+
+Robinette wore a white serge dress and jacket, and her hat was a rough
+straw turned up saucily in two places with black owls' heads. Mrs.
+Benson and Little Cummins had looked at it curiously while Robinette
+was at breakfast.
+
+"'Tis black underneath and white on top, Mrs. Benson. 'Ow can that be?
+It looks as if one 'at 'ad been clapped on another!"
+
+"That's what it is, Cummins. It's a double hat; but they'll do
+anything in America. It's a double hat with two black owls' heads, and
+I'll wager they charged double price for it!"
+
+"She's a lovely beauty in anythink and everythink she wears," said
+Little Cummins loyally.
+
+"May I call you 'Cousin Robin'?" Carnaby asked as they walked along.
+"Robinette is such a long name."
+
+"Cousin Robin is very nice, I think," she answered. "As a matter
+of fact I ought to be your Aunt Robin; it would be much more
+appropriate."
+
+"Aunt be blowed!" ejaculated Carnaby.
+
+"You're very fond of making yourself out old, but it's no go! When I
+first heard you were a widow I thought you would be grandmother's
+age,--I say--do you think you will marry another time, Cousin Robin?"
+
+"That's a very leading question for a gentleman to put to a lady! Were
+you intending to ask me to wait for you, Middy dear?" asked Robinette,
+putting her arm in the boy's laughingly, quite unconscious of his
+mood.
+
+"I'd wait quick enough if you'd let me! I'd wait a lifetime! There
+never was anybody like you in the world!"
+
+The words were said half under the boy's breath and the emotion in his
+tone was a complete and disagreeable surprise. Here was something that
+must be nipped in the bud, instantly and courageously. Robinette
+dropped Carnaby's arm and said: "We'll talk that over at once, Middy
+dear, but first you shall race me to the top of the twisting path,
+down past the tulip beds, to the seat under the big ash tree.--Come
+on!"
+
+The two reached the tree in a moment, Carnaby sufficiently in advance
+to preserve his self-respect and with a colour heightened by something
+other than the exercise of running.
+
+"Sit down, first cousin once removed!" said Robinette. "Do you know
+the story of Sydney Smith, who wrote apologizing to somebody for not
+being able to come to dinner? 'The house is full of cousins,' he said;
+'would they were "once removed"!'"
+
+"It's no good telling me literary anecdotes!--You're not treating me
+fairly," said Carnaby sulkily.
+
+"I'm treating you exactly as you should be treated, Infant-in-Arms,"
+Robinette answered firmly. "Give me your two paws, and look me
+straight in the eye."
+
+Carnaby was no coward. His steel-grey eyes blazed as he met his
+cousin's look. "Carnaby dear, do you know what you are to me? You are
+my kinsman; my only male relation. I'm so fond of you already, don't
+spoil it! Think what you can be to me if you will. I am all alone in
+the world and when you grow a little older how I should like to depend
+upon you! I need affection; so do you, dear boy; can't I see how you
+are just starving for it? There is no reason in the world why we
+shouldn't be fond of each other! Oh! how grateful I should be to think
+of a strong young middy growing up to advise me and take me about! It
+was that kind of care and thought of me that was in your mind just
+now!"
+
+"You'll be marrying somebody one of these days," blurted Carnaby,
+wholly moved, but only half convinced. "Then you'll forget all about
+your 'kinsman.'"
+
+"I have no intention in that direction," said Robinette, "but if I
+change my mind I'll consult you first; how will that do?"
+
+"It wouldn't do any good," sighed the boy, "so I'd rather you
+wouldn't! You'd have your own way spite of everything a fellow could
+say against it!"
+
+There was a moment of embarrassment; then the silence was promptly
+broken by Robinette.
+
+"Well, Middy dear, are we the best of friends?" she asked, rising from
+the bench and putting out her hand.
+
+The lad took it and said all in a glow of chivalry, "You're the
+dearest, the best, and the prettiest cousin in the world! You don't
+mind my thinking you're the prettiest?"
+
+"Mind it? I delight in it! I shall come to your ship and pour out tea
+for you in my most fetching frock. Your friends will say: 'Who is that
+particularly agreeable lady, Carnaby?' And you, with swelling chest,
+will respond, 'That's my American cousin, Mrs. Loring. She's a nice
+creature; I'm glad you like her!'"
+
+Robinette's imitation of Carnaby's possible pomposity was so amusing
+and so clever that it drew a laugh from the boy in spite of himself.
+
+"Just let anyone try to call you a 'creature'!" he exclaimed. "He'd
+have me to reckon with! Oh! I am so tired of being a boy! The inside
+of me is all grown up and everybody keeps on looking at the outside
+and thinking I'm just the same as I always was!"
+
+"Dear old Middy, you're quite old enough to be my protector and that
+is what you shall be! Now shall we go in? I want you to stand near by
+while I ask your grandmother a favor."
+
+"She won't do it if she can help it," was Carnaby's succinct reply.
+
+"Oh, I am not sure! Where shall we find her,--in the library?"
+
+"Yes; come along! Get up your circulation; you'll need it!"
+
+"Aunt de Tracy, there is something at Stoke Revel I am very anxious to
+have if you will give it to me," said Robinette, as she came into the
+library a few minutes later.
+
+Mrs. de Tracy looked up from her knitting solemnly. "If it belongs to
+me, I shall no doubt be willing, as I know you would not ask for
+anything out of the common; but I own little here; nearly all is
+Carnaby's."
+
+"This was my mother's," said Robinette. "It is a picture hanging in
+the smoking room; one that was a great favorite of hers, called
+'Robinetta.' Her drawing-master found an Italian artist in London who
+went to the National Gallery and made a copy of the Sir Joshua
+picture, and I was named after it."
+
+"I wish your mother could have been a little less romantic," sighed
+Mrs. de Tracy. "There were such fine old family names she might have
+used: Marcia and Elspeth, and Rosamond and Winifred!"
+
+"I am sorry, Aunt de Tracy. If I had been consulted I believe I should
+have agreed with you. Perhaps when my mother was in America the family
+ties were not drawn as tightly as in the former years?"
+
+"If it was so, it was only natural," said the old lady. "However, if
+you ask Carnaby, and if the picture has no great value, I am sure he
+will wish you to have it, especially if you know it to have been your
+mother's property." Here Carnaby sauntered into the room. "That's all
+right, grandmother," he said, "I heard what you were saying; only I
+wish it was a real Sir Joshua we were giving Cousin Robin instead of a
+copy!"
+
+"Thank you, Carnaby dear, and thank you, too, Aunt de Tracy. You can't
+think how much it is to me to have this; it is a precious link between
+mother's girlhood, and mother, and me." So saying, she dropped a timid
+kiss upon Mrs. de Tracy's iron-grey hair, and left the room.
+
+"If she could live in England long enough to get over that excessive
+freedom of manner, your cousin would be quite a pleasing person, but I
+am afraid it goes too deep to be cured," Mrs. de Tracy remarked as she
+smoothed the hairs that might have been ruffled by Robinette's kiss.
+
+Carnaby made no reply. He was looking out into the garden and feeling
+half a boy, half a man, but wholly, though not very contentedly, a
+kinsman.
+
+
+
+
+XI
+
+THE SANDS AT WESTON
+
+
+"Thursday morning? Is it possible that this is Thursday morning? And I
+must run up to London on Saturday," said Lavendar to himself as he
+finished dressing by the open window. He looked up the day of the week
+in his calendar first, in order to make quite sure of the fact. Yes,
+there was no doubt at all that it was Thursday. His sense of time must
+have suffered some strange confusion; in one way it seemed only an
+hour ago that he had arrived from the clangour and darkness of London
+to the silence of the country, the cuckoos calling across the river
+between the wooded hills, and the April sunshine on the orchard trees;
+in another, years might have passed since the moment when he first saw
+Robinette Loring sitting under Mrs. Prettyman's plum tree.
+
+"Eight days have we spent together in this house, and yet since that
+time when we first crossed in the boat, I've never been more than half
+an hour alone with her," he thought. "There are only three other
+people in the house after all, but they seem to have the power of
+multiplying themselves like the loaves and fishes (only when they're
+not wanted) so that we're eternally in a crowd. That boy particularly!
+I like Carnaby, if he could get it into his thick head that his
+presence isn't always necessary; it must bother Mrs. Loring too; he's
+quite off his head about her if she only knew it. However, it's my
+last day very likely, and if I have to outwit Machiavelli I'll manage
+it somehow! Surely one lame old woman, and a torpid machine for
+knitting and writing notes like Miss Smeardon, can't want to be out of
+doors all day. Hang that boy, though! He'll come anywhere." Here he
+stopped and sat down suddenly at the dressing-table, covering his face
+with his hands in comic despair. "Mrs. Loring can't like it! She must
+be doing it on purpose, avoiding being alone with me because she sees
+I admire her," he sighed. "After all why should I ever suppose that I
+interest her as much as she does me?"
+
+No one could have told from Lavendar's face, when he appeared fresh
+and smiling at the breakfast table half an hour later, that he was
+hatching any deep-laid schemes.
+
+Robinette entered the dining room five minutes late, as usual, pretty
+as a pink, breathless with hurrying. She wore a white dress again,
+with one rose stuck at her waistband, "A little tribute from the
+gardener," she said, as she noticed Lavendar glance at it. She went
+rapidly around the table shaking hands, and gave Carnaby's red cheeks
+a pinch in passing that made Lavendar long to tweak the boy's ear.
+
+"Good morning, all!" she said cheerily, "and how is my first cousin
+once removed? Is he going to Weston with me this morning to buy
+hairpins?"
+
+"He is!" Carnaby answered joyfully, between mouthfuls of bacon and
+eggs. "He has been out of hairpins for a week."
+
+"Does he need tapes and buttons also?" asked Robinette, taking the
+piece of muffin from his hand and buttering it for herself; an act
+highly disapproved of by Mrs. de Tracy, who hurriedly requested Bates
+to pass the bread.
+
+"He needs everything you need," Carnaby said with heightened colour.
+
+"My hair is giving me a good deal of trouble, lately," remarked
+Lavendar, passing his hand over a thickly thatched head.
+
+"I have an excellent American tonic that I will give you after
+breakfast," said Robinette roguishly. "You need to apply it with a
+brush at ten, eleven, and twelve o'clock, sitting in the sun
+continuously between those hours so that the scalp may be well
+invigorated. Carnaby, will you buy me butter scotch and lemonade and
+oranges in Weston?"
+
+"I will, if Grandmother'll increase my allowance," said Carnaby
+malevolently, "for I need every penny I've got in hand for the
+hairpins."
+
+"I hope you are not hungry, Robinetta," said Mrs. de Tracy, "that you
+have to buy food in Weston."
+
+"No, indeed," said Robinette, "I was only longing to test Carnaby's
+generosity and educate him in buying trifles for pretty ladies."
+
+"He can probably be relied on to educate himself in that line when the
+time comes," Mrs. de Tracy remarked; "and now if you have all finished
+talking about hair, I will take up my breakfast again."
+
+"Oh, Aunt de Tracy, I am so sorry if it wasn't a nice subject, but I
+never thought. Anyway I only talked about hairpins; it was Mr.
+Lavendar who introduced hair into the conversation; wasn't it, Middy
+dear?"
+
+Lavendar thought he could have annihilated them both for their open
+comradeship, their obvious delight in each other's society. Was he to
+be put on the shelf like a dry old bachelor? Not he! He would
+circumvent them in some way or another, although the rôle of
+gooseberry was new to him.
+
+The two young people set off in high spirits, and Mrs. de Tracy and
+Miss Smeardon watched them as they walked down the avenue on their way
+to the station, their clasped hands swinging in a merry rhythm as they
+hummed a bit of the last popular song.
+
+"I hope Robinetta will not Americanize Carnaby," said Mrs. de Tracy.
+"He seems so foolishly elated, so feverishly gay all at once. Her
+manner is too informal; Carnaby requires constant repression."
+
+"Perhaps his temperature has not returned to normal since his attack
+of quinsy," Miss Smeardon observed, reassuringly.
+
+Meanwhile Lavendar sat in Admiral de Tracy's old smoking room for half
+an hour writing letters. Every time that he glanced up from his work,
+and he did so pretty often, his eyes fell on a picture that hung upon
+the opposite wall. It was the copy of Sir Joshua's "Robinetta" made
+long ago and just presented to its namesake.
+
+In the portrait the girl's hair was a still brighter gold; yet
+certainly there was a likeness somewhere about it, he thought; partly
+in the expression, partly in the broad low forehead, and the eyes that
+looked as if they were seeing fairies.
+
+Of course to his mind Mrs. Loring was a hundred times more lovely than
+Sir Joshua's famous girl with a robin. He felt very ill-used because
+Robinette and Carnaby had deliberately gone for an excursion without
+him and had left him toiling over business papers when they had gone
+off to enjoy themselves.
+
+How bright it was out there in the sunshine, to be sure! And why
+should it be Carnaby, not he, who was by this time walking along the
+sea front of Weston, and watching the breeze flutter Robinette's scarf
+and bring a brighter colour to her lips?
+
+There! the last words were written, and taking up his bunch of
+letters, watch in hand, he sought Mrs. de Tracy, and explained that he
+would bicycle to Weston and catch the London post himself.
+
+"I'll send William"--she began; but Lavendar hastily assured her that
+he should enjoy the ride, and hurried off in triumph. Miss Smeardon
+smiled an acid smile as she watched him go. "He has forgotten all
+about poor Miss Meredith, I suppose," she murmured. "Yet it was not so
+long ago that they were supposed to be all in all to each other!"
+
+"It was a foolish engagement, Miss Smeardon," said Mrs. de Tracy in a
+cold voice. "I never thought the girl was suited to Mark, and I
+understand that old Mr. Lavendar was relieved when the whole thing
+came to an end."
+
+"Quite so; certainly; no doubt Miss Meredith would never have made him
+happy," said Miss Smeardon at once, "though it is always more
+agreeable when the lady discovers the fact first. In this case she
+confessed openly that Mr. Lavendar broke her heart with his
+indifference."
+
+"She was an ill-bred young woman," said Mrs. de Tracy, as if the
+subject were now closed. "However, I hope that the son of my family
+solicitor would think it only proper to pay a certain amount of
+attention to the Admiral's niece, were she ever so obnoxious to him."
+
+Miss Smeardon made no audible reply, but her thoughts were to the
+effect that never was an obnoxious duty performed by any man with a
+better grace.
+
+The sea front at Weston was the most prosaic scene in the world, a
+long esplanade with an asphalt path running its full length, and ugly
+jerrybuilt houses glaring out upon it, a gimcrack pier with a
+gingerbread sort of band-stand and glass house at the end;--all that
+could have been done to ruin nature had been determinedly done there.
+But you cannot ruin a spring day, nor youth, nor the colour of the
+sea. Along the level shore, the placid waves swept and broke, and then
+gathered up their white skirts, and retreated to return with the same
+musical laugh. Children and dogs played about on the wet sands. The
+wind blew freshly and the sea stretched all one pure blue, till it met
+on the horizon with the bluer skies.
+
+Weston seemed to Lavendar a very fresh and delightful spot at
+that moment, although had he been in a different mood its sordidness
+only would have struck him. Yes, there they were in the distance;
+he knew Robinette's white dress and the figure of the boy beside
+her. Hang that boy! Were they really going to buy hairpins? If
+so, then a hair-dresser's he must find. Lavendar turned up the
+little street that led from the sea-front, scanning all the
+signs--Boots--Dairies--Vegetable shops--Heavens! were there
+nothing but vegetable and boot shops in Weston? Boots again. At last
+a Hairdresser; Lavendar stood in the doorway until he made sure
+that Robinette and the middy had turned in that direction, and
+then he boldly entered the shop.
+
+To his horror he found himself confronted by a smiling young woman,
+whose own very marvellous erection of hair made him think she must be
+used as an advertisement for the goods she supplied.
+
+In another moment Robinette and the boy would be upon him, and he must
+be found deep in fictitious business. He cast one agonized glance at
+the mysteries of the toilet that surrounded him on every side, then
+clearing his throat, he said modestly but firmly, that he wanted to
+buy a pair of curling tongs for a lady.
+
+"These are the thing if you wish a Marcel wave," was the reply, "but
+just for an ordinary crimp we sell a good many of the plain ones."
+
+"Yes, thank you. They will do; the lady--my sister, also wished--"
+
+"A little 'addition,' was it, sir?" she moved smilingly to a drawer.
+"A few pin curls are very easily adjusted, or would our guinea
+switch--"
+
+At this moment the boy and Robinette entered the shop. Lavendar was
+paying for the curling tongs, and not a muscle of his face relaxed.
+"Oh, here you are. I have just finished my business," he said, turning
+round, "I thought we might encounter one another somewhere!"
+
+Robinette and Carnaby exchanged knowing glances of which Lavendar was
+perfectly conscious, but he stood by while Mrs. Loring bought her
+hairpins, and Carnaby endeavoured to persuade her to invest in a few
+"pin curls." "Not an hour before it is absolutely necessary, Middy
+dear," she said; "then I shall bear it as bravely as I can. Come now,
+carry the hairpins for me, and let me take Mr. Lavendar out of this
+shop, or he will be tempted to buy more than he needs."
+
+"Oh, no!" Lavendar remarked pointedly. "I have what I came for!"
+
+"Don't forget your parcel," Carnaby exclaimed, darting after Lavendar
+as they went into the street. "You've left it on the counter."
+
+"How careless!" said Mark. "It was for my sister."
+
+"You never told me you had a sister," said Robinette, as they walked
+together, Lavendar wheeling his bicycle and Carnaby sulking behind
+them.
+
+"I am blessed with two; one married now; the other, my sister Amy,
+lives at home."
+
+"Well, you see, in spite of all our questions the first time we met,
+we really know very little about each other," she went on lightly. "It
+takes such a long time to get thoroughly acquainted in this country.
+Do they ever count you a friend if you do not know all their aunts and
+second cousins?"
+
+Lavendar laughed. "Willingly would I introduce you to my aunts and my
+uttermost cousins, and lay the map of my life before you, uneventful
+as it has been, if that would further our acquaintance."
+
+Even as he spoke a hateful memory darted into his thoughts, and he
+reddened to his temples, until Mrs. Loring wondered if she had said
+anything to annoy him.
+
+Some fortunate accident at this point ordered that Carnaby should
+meet a friend, another middy about his own age, and they set off
+together in quest of a third boy who was supposed to be in the near
+neighbourhood.
+
+As soon as the lads were out of sight Lavendar found the jests they
+had been bandying together die on his lips. "I'm going down deeper; I
+shall be out of my depth very soon," he thought to himself, as he
+walked in silence by Robinette's side.
+
+"Let us come down to the beach again; we can't go to the station for
+half an hour yet," she said. "I like to look out to sea, and realize
+that if I sailed long enough I could step off that pier, and arrive in
+America."
+
+They stood by the sea-wall together with the fresh wind playing on
+their faces. "Isn't it curious," said Robinette, "how instinctively
+one always turns to look at the sea; inland may be ever so lovely, but
+if the sea is there we generally look in that direction."
+
+"Because it is unbounded, like the future," said Lavendar. He was
+looking as he spoke at some children playing on the sands just
+beside them. There was a gallant little boy among them with a bare
+curly head, who refused help from older sisters and was toiling away
+at his sand castle, his whole soul in his work; throwing up
+spadefuls--tremendous ones for four years old--upon its ramparts,
+as if certain they could resist the advancing tide.
+
+"What a noble little fellow!" exclaimed Robinette, catching the
+direction of Lavendar's glance. "Isn't he splendid? toiling like that;
+stumping about on those fat brown legs!"
+
+"How beautiful to have a child like that, of one's own!" thought
+Lavendar as he looked. On the sands around them, there were numbers of
+such children playing there in the sun. It seemed a happy world to him
+at the moment.
+
+Suddenly he saw his companion turn quickly aside; a nurse in uniform
+came towards them pushing, not a happy crooning baby this time, but a
+little emaciated wisp of a child lying back wearily in a wheel chair.
+Something in Robinette's face, or perhaps the bit of fluttering lace
+she wore upon her white dress, had attracted its notice, and it
+stretched out two tiny skeleton hands towards her as it passed. With a
+quick gesture, brushing tears away that in a moment had rushed to her
+eyes, young Mrs. Loring stepped forward, and put her fingers into the
+wasted hands that were held out to her. She hung above the child for a
+moment, a radiant figure, her face shining with sympathy and a sort of
+heavenly kindness; her eyes the sweeter for their tears.
+
+"What is it, darling?" she asked. "Oh, it's the bright rose!" Then she
+hurriedly unfastened the flower from her waist-belt and turned to
+Lavendar. "Will you please take your penknife and scrape away all the
+little thorns," she asked.
+
+"The rose looked very charming where it was," he remarked, half
+regretfully, as he did what she commanded.
+
+"It will look better still, presently," she answered.
+
+The child's hands were outstretched longingly to grasp the flower, its
+eyes, unnaturally deep and wise with pain, were fixed upon Robinette's
+face. She bent over the chair, and her voice was like a dove's voice,
+Lavendar thought, as she spoke. Then the little melancholy carriage
+was wheeled away. Motherhood always seemed the most sacred, the
+supreme experience to Robinette; a thing high and beautiful like the
+topmost blooms of Nurse Prettyman's plum tree. "If one had to choose
+between that sturdy boy and this wistful wraith, it would be hard,"
+she thought. "All my pride would run out to the boy, but I could die
+for love and pity if this suffering baby were mine!"
+
+Lavendar had turned, and leaned on the wall with averted face. "Sweet
+woman!" he was saying to himself. "It is more than a merry heart that
+is able to give such sympathy; it's a sad old world after all where
+such things can be; but a woman like that can bring good out of
+evil."
+
+Robinette had seated herself on a low wall beside him. Her little
+embroidered futility of a handkerchief was in her hand once more. "A
+rose and a smile! that's all we could give it," she said; "and we
+would either of us share some of that burden if we only could." She
+watched the merry, healthy children playing beside them, and added,
+"After all let us comfort ourselves that brown cheeks and fat legs are
+in the majority. Rightness somehow or other must be at the root of
+things, or we shouldn't be a living world at all."
+
+"Amen," said Lavendar, "but the sight of suffering innocents like
+that, sometimes makes me wish I were dead."
+
+"Dead!" she echoed. "Why, it makes me wish for a hundred lives, a
+hundred hearts and hands to feel with and help with."
+
+"Ah, some women are made that way. My stepmother, the only mother I've
+known, was like that," Lavendar went on, dropping suddenly again into
+personal talk, as they had done before. He and she, it seemed, could
+not keep barriers between them very long; every hour they spent
+together brought them more strangely into knowledge of each other's
+past.
+
+"She was a fine woman," he went on, "with a certain comfortable
+breadth about her, of mind and body; and those large, warm, capable
+hands that seem so fitted to lift burdens."
+
+Lavendar was in an absent-minded mood, and never much given to noting
+details at any time. He bent over on the low wall in retrospective
+silence, looking at the blue sea before them.
+
+Robinette, who was perched beside him, spread her two small hands on
+her white serge knees and regarded them fixedly for a moment.
+
+"I wonder if it's a matter of size," she said after a moment. "I
+wonder! Let's be confidential. When I was a little girl we were not at
+all well-to-do, and my hands were very busy. My father's success came
+to him only two or three years before his death, when his reputation
+began to grow and his plans for great public buildings began to be
+accepted, so I was my mother's helper. We had but one servant, and I
+learned to make beds, to dust, to wipe dishes, to make tea and coffee,
+and to cook simple dishes. If Admiral de Tracy's sister had to work,
+Admiral de Tracy's niece was certainly going to help! Later on came my
+father's illness and death. We had plenty of servants then, but my
+hands had learned to be busy. I gave him his medicines, I changed his
+pillows, I opened his letters and answered such of them as were within
+my powers, I fanned him, I stroked his aching head. The end came, and
+mother and I had hardly begun to take hold of life again when her
+health failed. I wasn't enough for her; she needed father and her face
+was bent towards him. My hands were busy again for months, and they
+held my mother's when she died. Time went on. Then I began again to
+make a home out of a house; to use my strength and time as a good wife
+should, for the comfort of her husband; but oh! so faultily, for I was
+all too young and inexperienced. It was only for a few months, then
+death came into my life for the third time, and I was less than
+twenty. For the first time since I can remember, my hands are idle,
+but it will not be for long. I want them to be busy always. I want
+them to be full! I want them to be tired! I want them ready to do the
+tasks my head and heart suggest."
+
+Lavendar had a strong desire to take those same hands in his and kiss
+them, but instead he rose and spread out his own long brown fingers on
+the edge of the wall, a man's hands, fine and supple, but meant to
+work.
+
+"I seem to have done nothing," he exclaimed. "You look so young, so
+irresponsible, so like a bird on a bough, that I cannot associate dull
+care with you, yet you have lived more deeply than I. Life seems to
+have touched me on the shoulder and passed me by; these hands of mine
+have never done a real day's work, Mrs. Loring, for they've been the
+servants of an unwilling brain. I hated my own work as a younger man,
+and, though I hope I did not shirk it, I certainly did nothing that I
+could avoid." He paused, and went on slowly, "I've thought sometimes,
+of late I mean, that if life is to be worth much, if it is to be real
+life, and not mere existence, one must put one's whole heart into it,
+and that two people--" He stopped; he was silent with embarrassment,
+conscious of having said too much.
+
+"Can help each other. Indeed they can," Mrs. Loring went on serenely,
+"if they have the same ideals. Hardly anyone, fortunately, is so alone
+as I, and so I have to help myself! Your sisters, now; don't they
+help?"
+
+"Not a great deal," Lavendar confessed. "One would, but she's married
+and in India, worse luck! The other is--well, she's a candid sister."
+He laughed, and looked up. "If my best friend could hear my sister
+Amy's view of me, just have a little sketch of me by Amy without fear
+or favour, he, or she, would never have a very high opinion of me
+again, and I am not sure but that I should agree with her."
+
+"Nonsense! my dear friend," exclaimed Robinette in a maternal tone she
+sometimes affected,--a tone fairly agonizing to Mark Lavendar; "we
+should never belittle the stuff that's been put into us! My equipment
+isn't particularly large, but I am going to squeeze every ounce of
+power from it before I die."
+
+"Life is extraordinarily interesting to you, isn't it?"
+
+"Interesting? It is thrilling! So will it be to you when you make up
+your mind to squeeze it," said Robinette, jumping off the wall. "There
+is Carnaby signalling; it is time we went to the station."
+
+"Life would thrill me considerably more if Carnaby were not eternally
+in evidence," said Lavendar, but Robinette pretended not to hear.
+
+
+
+
+XII
+
+LOVE IN THE MUD
+
+
+The next day Robinette was once more sitting in the boat opposite to
+Lavendar as he rowed. They were going down the river this time, not
+across it. Somehow they had managed that afternoon to get out by
+themselves, which sounds very simple, but is a wonderfully difficult
+thing to accomplish when there is no special reason for it, and when
+there are several other people in the house.
+
+Fortunately Mrs. de Tracy did not like to be alone, so that wherever
+she went Miss Smeardon had to go too, and there happened to be a sale
+of work at a neighbouring vicarage that afternoon where she considered
+her presence a necessity. Robinette had vanished soon after luncheon
+and the middy had been dull, so after loitering around for a while, he
+too had disappeared upon some errand of his own. Lavendar walked very
+slowly toward the avenue gateway, then he turned and came back. He
+could scarcely believe his good fortune when he saw Mrs. Loring come
+out of the house, and pause at the door as if uncertain of her next
+movements. She looked uncommonly lovely in a white frock with touches
+of blue, while the ribbon in her hair brought out all its gold. She
+wore a flowery garden hat, and a pair of dainty most un-English shoes
+peeped from beneath her short skirt.
+
+"Are you going out, or can I take you on the river?" Lavendar asked,
+trying without much success to conceal the eagerness that showed in
+his voice and eyes.
+
+Robinette stood for a moment looking at him (it seemed as if she read
+him like a book) and then she said frankly, "Why yes, there is nothing
+I should like so much, but where is Carnaby?"
+
+"Hang Carnaby! I mean I don't know, or care. I've had too much of his
+society to-day to be pining for it now."
+
+"Well, he does chatter like a magpie, but I feel he must have such a
+dull time here with no one anywhere near his own age. Elderly as I am,
+I seem a bit nearer than Aunt de Tracy or Miss Smeardon. Aunt de
+Tracy, all the same, will never understand my relations with that boy,
+or with anyone else for that matter. I did try so hard," she went on,
+"when I first arrived, just to strike the right note with her, and
+I've missed it all the time, by that very fact, no doubt. I'm so
+unused to trying--at home."
+
+"You mean in America?"
+
+"Yes, of course; I don't try there at all, and yet my friends seem to
+understand me."
+
+"Does it seem to you that you could ever call England 'home'?"
+
+"I could not have believed that England would so sink into my heart,"
+she said, sitting down in the doorway and arranging the flowers on her
+hat. "During those first dull wet days when I was still a stranger,
+and when I looked out all the time at the dripping cedars, and felt
+whenever I opened my lips that I said the wrong thing, it seemed to me
+I should never be gay for an hour in this country; but the last
+enchanting sunny days have changed all that. I remember it's my
+mother's country, and if only I could have found a little affection
+waiting for me, all would have been perfect."
+
+"You may find it yet." Lavendar could not for the life of him help
+saying the words, but there was nothing in the tone in which he said
+them to make Robinette conscious of his meaning.
+
+"I'm afraid not," she sighed, thinking of Mrs. de Tracy's indifference.
+"I'm much more American than English, much more my father's daughter
+than the Admiral's niece; perhaps my aunt feels that instinctively. Now
+I must slip upstairs and change if we are going boating."
+
+"Never!" cried Lavendar. "If I don't snatch you this moment from the
+devouring crowd I shall lose you! I will keep you safe and dry, never
+fear, and we shall be back well before dark."
+
+They went down the river after leaving the little pier, passing the
+orchards heaped on the hillsides above Wittisham, and Lavendar wanted
+to row out to sea, but Robinette preferred the river; so he rowed
+nearer to the shore, where the current was less swift, and the boat
+rocked and drifted with scarcely a touch of the oars. They had talked
+for some time, and then a silence had fallen, which Robinette broke by
+saying, "I half wish you'd forsake the law and follow lines of lesser
+resistance, Mr. Lavendar. Do you know, you seem to me to be drifting,
+not rowing! I've been thinking ever since of what you said to me on
+the sands at Weston."
+
+"Ungrateful woman!" he exclaimed, trying to evade the subject, "when
+these two faithful arms have been at your service every day since we
+first met! Think of the pennies you would have taken from that tiny
+gold purse of yours for the public ferry! However, I know what you
+mean; I never met anyone so plain-spoken as you, Mrs. Robin; I haven't
+forgotten, I assure you!"
+
+"How about the candid sister? Isn't she plain-spoken?"
+
+"Oh, she attacks the outside of the cup and platter; you question
+motive power and ideals. Well, I confess I have less of the former
+than I ought, and more of the latter than I've ever used." Lavendar
+had rested on his oars now and was looking down, so that the twinkle
+of his eyes was lost. "I suppose I shall go on as I have done
+hitherto, doing my work in a sort of a way, and getting a certain
+amount of pleasure out of things,--unless--"
+
+"Oh, but that's not living!" she exclaimed; "that's only existing.
+Don't you remember:--
+
+                   It is not growing like a tree
+                   In bulk doth make man better be.
+
+It's really _living_ I mean, forgetting the things that are behind,
+and going on and on to something ahead, whatever one's aim may be."
+
+"What are you going to do with yourself, if I may ask?" said Lavendar.
+"Don't be too philanthropic, will you? You're so delightfully
+symmetrical now!"
+
+"I shall have plenty to do," cried Robinette ardently. "I've told you
+before, I have so much motive power that I don't know how to use it."
+
+"How about sharing a little of it with a friend!"
+
+Lavendar's voice was full of meaning, but Robinette refused to hear
+it. She had succumbed as quickly to his charm as he to hers, but while
+she still had command over her heart she did not intend parting with
+it unless she could give it wholly. She knew enough of her own nature
+to recognize that she longed for a rowing, not a drifting mate, and
+that nothing else would content her; but her instinct urged that
+Lavendar's indecisions and his uncertainties of aim were accidents
+rather than temperamental weaknesses. She suspected that his
+introspective moods and his occasional lack of spirits had a definite
+cause unknown to her.
+
+"I haven't a large income," she said, after a moment's silence,
+changing the subject arbitrarily, and thereby reducing her companion
+to a temporary state of silent rage.
+
+"Yet no one would expect a woman like this to fall like a ripe plum
+into a man's mouth," he thought presently; "she will drop only when
+she has quite made up her mind, and the bough will need a good deal of
+shaking!"
+
+"I haven't a large income," repeated Robinette, while Lavendar was
+silent, "only five thousand dollars a year, which is of course
+microscopic from the American standpoint and cost of living; so I
+can't build free libraries and swimming baths and playgrounds, or do
+any big splendid things; but I can do dear little nice ones, left
+undone by city governments and by the millionaires. I can sing, and
+read, and study; I can travel; and there are always people needing
+something wherever you are, if you have eyes to see them; one needn't
+live a useless life even if one hasn't any responsibilities. But"--she
+paused--"I've been talking all this time about my own plans and
+ambitions, and I began by asking yours! Isn't it strange that the
+moment one feels conscious of friendship, one begins to want to know
+things?"
+
+"My sister Amy would tell you I had no ambitions, except to buy as
+many books as I wish, and not to have to work too hard," said Mark
+smiling, "but I think that would not be quite true. I have some, of a
+dull inferior kind, not beautiful ones like yours."
+
+"Do tell me what they are."
+
+He shook his head. "I couldn't; they're not for show; shabby things
+like unsuccessful poor relations, who would rather not have too much
+notice taken of them. In a few weeks I am going to drag them out of
+their retreat, brighten them up, inject some poetry into their veins,
+and then display them to your critical judgment."
+
+They were almost at a standstill now and neither of them was noticing
+it at all. As Mrs. Loring moved her seat the boat lurched somewhat to
+one side. Mark, to steady her, placed his hand over hers as it rested
+on the rail, and she did not withdraw it. Then he found the other hand
+that lay upon her knee, and took it in his own, scarcely knowing what
+he did. He looked into her face and found no anger there. "I wish to
+tell you more about myself," he stammered, "something not altogether
+creditable to me; but perhaps you will understand. Perhaps even if you
+don't understand you will forgive."
+
+She drew her hands gently away from his grasp. "I shall try to
+understand, you may rely on that!" she said.
+
+"I'm not going to trouble you with any very dreadful confessions," he
+said, "only it's better to hear things directly from the people
+concerned, and you are sure to hear a wrong version sooner or
+later."--Then stopping suddenly he exclaimed, "Hullo! we're stuck, I
+declare! look at that!"
+
+Robinette turned and saw that their boat was now scarcely surrounded
+with water at all. On every side, as if the flanks of some great whale
+were upheaving from below, there appeared stretches of glistening mud.
+Just in front of them, where there still was a channel of water, was
+an upstanding rock. "Shall we row quickly there?" she cried. "Then
+perhaps we can get out and pull the boat to the other side, where
+there is more water. What has happened?"
+
+"Oh, something not unusual," said Lavendar grimly, "that I'm a fool,
+and the sea-tide has ebbed, as tides have been known to do before. I'm
+afraid a man doesn't watch tides when he has a companion like you! Now
+we're left high, but not at all dry, as you see, till the tide
+turns."
+
+By a swift stroke or two he managed to propel their craft as far as
+the rock. They scrambled up on it, and then he tried to haul the boat
+around the miniature islet; but the more he hauled, the quicker the
+water seemed to run away, and the deeper the wretched thing stuck in
+the mud. He jumped in again, and made an effort to push her off with
+an oar; meanwhile Robinette nearly fell off the rock in her efforts to
+get the head of the boat around towards the current again, and making
+a frantic plunge into the ooze, sank above her ankles in an instant.
+Lavendar caught hold of her and helped her to scramble back into the
+boat. "It's all right; only my skirt wet, and one shoe gone!" she
+panted. "Now, what are we to do?" She spread out her hands in dismay,
+and looked down at her draggled mud-stained skirt, her little feet,
+one shoeless and both covered with mud and slime. "What an object I
+shall be to meet Aunt de Tracy's eye, when, if ever, it does light on
+me again! Meanwhile it seems as if we might be here for some hours.
+The boat is just settling herself into the mud bank, like a rather
+tired fat old woman into an armchair, and pray, Mr. Lavendar, what do
+you propose to do? as Talleyrand said to the lady who told him she
+couldn't bear it."
+
+Lavendar looked about them; the main bed of the river was fifty yards
+away; between it and them was now only an expanse of mud.
+
+"It's perfectly hopeless," he said, "the best thing we can do is to
+beget some philosophy."
+
+"Which at any moment we would exchange for a foot of water," she
+interpolated.
+
+"We must just sit here and wait for the tide. Shall it be in the boat
+or on the rock?"
+
+"I don't see much difference, do you? Except that the passing boats,
+if there are any, might think it was a matter of choice to sit on a
+damp rock for two hours, but no one could think we wanted to sit in a
+boat in the mud."
+
+They landed on the rock for the second time. "For my part it's no
+great punishment," said Lavendar, when they settled themselves, "since
+the place is big enough for two and you're one of them!"
+
+"Wouldn't this be as good a stool of repentance from which to confess
+your faults as any?" asked Robinette, as she tucked her shoeless foot
+beneath her mud-stained skirt and made herself as comfortable as
+possible. "I'll even offer a return of confidence upon my own
+weaknesses, if I can find them, but at present only miles of virtue
+stretch behind me. Ugh! How the mud smells; quite penitential! Now:--
+
+            "What have you sought you should have shunned,
+            And into what new follies run?"
+
+"Oh, what a bad rhyme!" said Lavendar.
+
+"It's Pythagoras, any way," she explained.
+
+Then suddenly changing his tone, Lavendar went on. "This is not merely
+a jest, Mrs. Loring. Before you admit me really amongst the number of
+your friends I should like you to know that--to put it plainly--my
+own little world would tell you at the moment that I am a heartless
+jilt."
+
+"That is a very ugly expression, Mr. Lavendar, and I shall choose not
+to believe it, until you give me your own version of the story."
+
+"In one way I can give you no other; except that I was just fool
+enough to drift into an engagement with a woman whom I did not really
+love, and just not enough of a fool to make both of us miserable for
+life when I, all too late, found out my mistake."
+
+There passed before him at that moment other foolish blithe little
+loves, like faded flowers with the sweetness gone out of them. They
+had been so innocent, so fragile, so free from blame; all but the
+last; and this last it was that threatened to rise like a shadow
+perhaps, and defeat his winning the only woman he could ever love.
+
+Robinette stared at the stretches of ooze, and then stole a look at
+Mark Lavendar. "The idea of calling that man a jilt," she thought.
+"Look at his eyes; look at his mouth; listen to his voice; there is
+truth in them all. Oh for a sight of the girl he jilted! How much it
+would explain! No, not altogether, because the careless making of his
+engagement would have to be accounted for, as well as the breaking of
+it. Unless he did it merely to oblige her--and men are such idiots
+sometimes,--then he must have fancied he was in love with her. Perhaps
+he is continually troubled with those fancies. Nonsense! you believe
+in him, and you know you do." Then aloud she said, sympathetically,
+"I'm afraid we are apt to make these little experimental journeys in
+youth, when the heart is full of _wanderlust_. We start out on them so
+lightly, then they lead nowhere, and the walking back alone is
+wearisome and depressing."
+
+"My return journey was depressing enough at first," said Lavendar,
+"because the particular She was unkinder to me than I deserved even;
+but better counsels have prevailed and I shall soon be able to meet
+the reproachful gaze of stout matrons and sour spinsters more easily
+than I have for a year past; you see the two families were friends and
+each family had a large and interested connection!"
+
+"If the opinion of a comparative stranger is of any use to you," said
+Robinette, standing on the rock and scraping her stockinged foot free
+of mud, "_I_ believe in you, personally! You don't seem a bit 'jilty'
+to me! I'd let you marry my sister to-morrow and no questions asked!"
+
+"I didn't know you had a sister," cried Lavendar.
+
+"I haven't; that's only a figure of speech; just a phrase to show my
+confidence."
+
+"And isn't it ungrateful to be obliged to say I can't marry your
+sister, after you have given me permission to ask her!"
+
+"Not only ungrateful but unreasonable," said Robinette saucily,
+turning her head to look up the river and discovering from her point
+of vantage a moving object around the curve that led her to make
+hazardous remarks, knowing rescue was not far away. "What have you
+against my sister, pray?"
+
+"Very little!" he said daringly, knowing well that she held him in her
+hand, and could make him dumb or let him speak at any moment she
+desired. "Almost nothing! only that _she_ is not offering me _her_
+sister as a balm to my woes."
+
+"She _has_ no sister; she is an only child!--There! there!" cried
+Robinette, "the tide is coming up again, and the mud banks off in that
+direction are all covered with water! I see somebody in a boat, rowing
+towards us with superhuman energy. Oh! if I hadn't worn a white dress!
+It will _not_ come smooth; and my lovely French hat is ruined by the
+dampness! My one shoe shows how inappropriately I was shod, and
+whoever is coming will say it is because I am an American. He will
+never know you wouldn't let me go upstairs and dress properly."
+
+"It doesn't matter anyway," rejoined Mark, "because it is only Carnaby
+coming. You might know he would find us even if we were at the bottom
+of the river."
+
+
+
+
+XIII
+
+CARNABY TO THE RESCUE
+
+
+At Stoke Revel, in the meantime, the solemn rites of dinner had been
+inaugurated as usual by the sounding of the gong at seven o'clock.
+Mrs. de Tracy, Miss Smeardon, and Bates waited five minutes in silent
+resignation, then Carnaby came down and was scolded for being late,
+but there was no Robinette and no Lavendar.
+
+"Carnaby," said his grandmother, "do you know where Mark intended
+going this afternoon?"
+
+"No, I don't," said Carnaby, sulkily.
+
+"Your cousin Robinetta,"--with meaning,--"perhaps you know her
+whereabouts?"
+
+"Not I!" replied Carnaby with affected nonchalance. "I was ferreting
+with Wilson." He had ferreted perhaps for fifteen minutes and then
+spent the rest of the afternoon in solitary discontent, but he would
+not have owned it for the world.
+
+"Call Bates," commanded Mrs. de Tracy. Bates entered. "Do you know if
+Mr. Lavendar intended going any distance to-day? Did he leave any
+message?"
+
+"Mr. Lavendar, ma'am," said Bates, "Mr. Lavendar and Mrs. Loring they
+went out in the boat after tea. Mr. Lavendar asked William for the
+key, and William he went down and got out the oars and rudder,
+ma'am."
+
+"Does William know where they went?" asked Mrs. de Tracy in high
+displeasure. "Was it to Wittisham?"
+
+"No, ma'am, William says they went down stream. He thinks perhaps they
+were going to the Flag Rock, and he says the gentleman wouldn't have a
+hard pull, as the tide was going out. But Mr. Lavendar knows the river
+well, ma'am, as well as Mr. Carnaby here."
+
+"Then I conclude there is no immediate cause for anxiety," said Mrs.
+de Tracy with satire. "You can serve dinner, Bates; there seems no
+reason why we should fast as yet! However, Carnaby," she continued,
+"as the men cannot be spared at this hour, you had better go at once
+and see what has happened to our guests."
+
+"Right you are," cried Carnaby with the utmost alacrity. He was
+hungry, but the prospect of escape was better than food. He rushed
+away, and his boat was in mid-river before Mrs. de Tracy and Miss
+Smeardon had finished their tepid soup.
+
+A very slim young moon was just rising above the woods, but her tender
+light cast no shadows as yet, and there were no stars in the sky, for
+it was daylight still. The evening air was very fresh and cool; there
+was no wind, and the edges of the river were motionless and smooth,
+although in mid-stream the now in-coming tide clucked and swirled as
+it met the rush. Over at Wittisham one or two lights were beginning to
+twinkle, and there came drifting across the water a smell of wood
+smoke that suggested evening fires. Carnaby handled a boat well, for
+he had been born a sailor, as it were, and his long, powerful strokes
+took him along at a fine pace. But although he was going to look for
+Robinette and Mark, he was rather angry with both of them, and in no
+hurry. He rested on his oars indifferently and let the tide carry him
+up as it liked, while, with infinite zest, he unearthed a cigarette
+case from the recesses of his person, lit a cigarette, and smoked it
+coolly. Under Carnaby's apparent boyishness, there was a certain
+somewhat dangerous quality of precocity, which was stimulated rather
+than checked by his grandmother's repressive system. His smoking now
+was less the monkey-trick of a boy, than an act of slightly cynical
+defiance. He was no novice in the art, and smoked slowly and daintily,
+throwing back his head and blowing the smoke sometimes through his
+lips and sometimes through his nose. He looked for the moment older
+than his years, and a difficult young customer at that. His present
+sulky expression disappeared, however, under the influence of tobacco
+and adventure.
+
+"Where the dickens are they?" he began to wonder, pulling harder.
+
+A bend in the river presently solved the mystery. On a wide stretch of
+mud-bank, which the tide had left bare in going out, but was now
+beginning to cover again, a solitary boat was stranded.
+
+With this clue to guide him, Carnaby's bright eyes soon discovered the
+two dim forms in the distance.
+
+"Ahoy!" he shouted, and received a joyous answer. Robinette and Mark
+were the two derelicts, and their rescuer skimmed towards them with
+all his strength.
+
+He could get only within a few yards of the rock to which their boat
+was tied, and from that distance he surveyed them, expecting to find a
+dismal, ship-wrecked pair, very much ashamed of themselves and
+getting quite weary of each other. On the contrary the faces he could
+just distinguish in the uncertain light, were radiant, and Robinette's
+voice was as gay as ever he had heard it. He leaned upon his oars and
+looked at them with wonder.
+
+"Angel cousin!" cried Robinette. "Have you a little roast mutton about
+you somewhere, we are so hungry!"
+
+"You _are_ a pretty pair!" he remarked. "What have you been and
+done?"
+
+"We just went for a row after tea, Middy dear," said Robinette, "and
+look at the result."
+
+"You're not rowing now," observed Carnaby pointedly.
+
+"No," said Mark, "we gave up rowing when the water left us, Carnaby.
+Conversation is more interesting in the mud."
+
+"But how did you get here? I thought you were going to the Flag Rock?"
+demanded Carnaby.
+
+"Is there a Flag Rock, Middy dear? I didn't know," said Robinette
+innocently. "It shows we shouldn't go anywhere without our first
+cousin once removed. We just began to talk, here in the boat, and the
+water went away and left us." Then she laughed, and Mark laughed too,
+and Carnaby's look of unutterable scorn seemed to have no effect upon
+them. They might almost have been laughing at him, their mirth was so
+senseless, viewed in any other light.
+
+"It's nearly eight o'clock," he said solemnly. "Perhaps you can form
+some idea as to what grandmother's saying, and Bates."
+
+"Well, you're going to be our rescuer, Middy darling, so it doesn't
+matter," said Robinette. "Look! the water's coming up."
+
+But Carnaby seemed in no mood for waiting. He had taken off his boots,
+and rolled up his trousers above his knees.
+
+"I'd let Lavendar wade ashore the best way he could!" he said, "but I
+s'pose I've got to save you or there'd be a howl."
+
+"No one would howl any louder than you, dear, and you know it. Don't
+step in!" shrieked Robinette, "I've confided a shoe already to the
+river-mud! I just put my foot in a bit, to test it, and down the poor
+foot went and came up without its shoe. Oh, Middy dear, if your young
+life--"
+
+"Blow my young life!" retorted Carnaby. He was performing gymnastics
+on the edge of his boat, letting himself down and heaving himself up,
+by the strength of his arms. His legs were covered with mud.
+
+"No go!" he said. "It's as deep as the pit here; sometimes you can
+find a rock or a hard bit. We must just wait."
+
+They had not long to wait after all, for presently a rush of the tide
+sent the water swirling round the stranded boat, and carried Carnaby's
+craft to it.
+
+"Now it'll be all right," said he. "You push with the boat-hook, Mark,
+and I'll pull"; but it took a quarter of an hour's pushing and pulling
+to get the boat free of the mud.
+
+Except for the moon it would have been quite dark when the party
+reached the pier. They mounted the hill in some silence. It was
+difficult for Robinette to get along with her shoeless foot; Lavendar
+wanted to help her, but she demanded Carnaby's arm. He was sulking
+still. There was something he felt, but could not understand, in the
+subtle atmosphere of happiness by which the truant couple seemed to be
+surrounded; a something through which he could not reach; that seemed
+to put Robinette at a distance from him, although her shoulder touched
+his and her hand was on his arm. Growing pangs of his manhood assailed
+him, the male's jealousy of the other male. For the moment he hated
+Mark; Mark talking joyous nonsense in a way rather unlike himself, as
+if the night air had gone to his head.
+
+"I am glad you had the ferrets to amuse you this afternoon," said
+Robinette, in a propitiatory tone. "Ferrets are such darlings, aren't
+they, with their pink eyes?"
+
+"O! _darlings_," assented Carnaby derisively. "One of the darlings
+bit my finger to the bone, not that that's anything to you."
+
+"Oh! Middy dear, I am sorry!" cried Robinette. "I'd kiss the place to
+make it well, if we weren't in such a hurry!"
+
+Carnaby began to find that a dignified reserve of manner was very
+difficult to keep up. His grandmother could manage it, he reflected,
+but he would need some practice. When they came to a place where there
+were sharp stones strewn on the road, he became a mere boy again quite
+suddenly, and proposed a "queen's chair" for Robinette. And so he and
+Lavendar crossed hands, and one arm of Robinette encircled the boy's
+head, while the other just touched Lavendar's neck enough to be
+steadied by it. Their laughter frightened the sleepy birds that night.
+The demoralized remnant of a Bank Holiday party would have been,
+Lavendar observed, respectability itself in comparison with them; and
+certainly no such group had ever approached Stoke Revel before. They
+were to enter by a back door, and Carnaby was to introduce them to
+the housekeeper's room, where he undertook that Bates would feed them.
+Lavendar alone was to be ambassador to the drawing room.
+
+"The only one of us with a boot on each foot, of course we appoint him
+by a unanimous vote," said Robinette.
+
+But the chief thing that Carnaby remembered, after all, of that
+evening's adventure, was Robinette's sudden impulsive kiss as she bade
+him good-night, Lavendar standing by. She had never kissed him before,
+for all her cousinliness, but she just brushed his cool, round cheek
+to-night as if with a swan's-down puff.
+
+"That's a shabby thing to call a kiss!" said the embarrassed but
+exhilarated youth.
+
+"Stop growling, you young cub, and be grateful; half a loaf is better
+than no bread," was Lavendar's comment as he watched the draggled and
+muddy but still charming Robinette up the stairway.
+
+
+
+
+XIV
+
+THE EMPTY SHRINE
+
+
+Lavendar had discovered, much to his dismay, that he must return to
+London upon important business; it was even a matter of uncertainty
+whether his father could spare him again or would consent to his
+returning to Stoke Revel to conclude Mrs. de Tracy's arrangements
+about the sale of the land.
+
+Affairs of the heart are like thunderstorms; the atmosphere may
+sometimes seem charged with electricity, and yet circumstances, like a
+sudden wind that sweeps the clouds away before they break, may cause
+the lovers to drift apart. Or all in a moment may come thunder,
+lightning, and rain from a clear sky, and there is nothing that is apt
+to precipitate matters like an unexpected parting.
+
+When Lavendar announced that he had to leave Stoke Revel, two pairs
+of eyes, Miss Smeardon's and Carnaby's, instantly looked at Robinette
+to see how she received the news, but she only smiled at the moment.
+She was just beginning her breakfast, and like the famous Charlotte,
+"went on cutting bread and butter," without any sign of emotion.
+
+"Hurrah!" thought the boy. "Now we can have some fun, and I'll perhaps
+make her see that old Lavendar isn't the only companion in the
+world."
+
+"She minds," thought Miss Smeardon, "for she buttered that piece of
+bread on the one side a minute ago, and now she's just done it on the
+other--and eaten it too."
+
+"She doesn't care a bit," thought Lavendar. "She's not even changed
+colour; my going or staying is nothing to her; I needn't come back."
+
+He had made up his mind to return just the same, if it were at all
+possible, and he told Mrs. de Tracy so. She remarked graciously that
+he was a welcome guest at any time, and Carnaby, hearing this,
+pinched Lord Roberts till he howled like a fiend, and fled for comfort
+to his mistress's lap.
+
+"You little coward," said Carnaby, "you should be ashamed to bear the
+name of a hero."
+
+"I've mentioned to you before, Carnaby, I think, that I dislike that
+jest," said his grandmother, and Carnaby advancing to the injured
+beast said, "Yes, ma'am, and so does Bobs, doesn't he, Bobs?" reducing
+the lap-dog to paroxysms of fury. "Would it be any better if I called
+him _Kitchener_?" hissing the word into the animal's face. "Jealous,
+Bobs? Eh? _Kitchener_." This last word had a rasping sound that
+irritated the little creature more than ever; his teeth jibbered with
+anger, and Miss Smeardon had to offer him a saucer of cream before he
+could be calmed down enough for the rest of the party to hear
+themselves speak.
+
+"Had you nice letters this morning? Mine were very uninteresting,"
+Robinette remarked to Lavendar as they stood together at the doorway
+in the sunshine, while Carnaby chased the lap-dog round and round the
+lawn.
+
+"I had only two letters; one was from my sister Amy, the candid one!
+her letters are not generally exhilarating."
+
+"Oh, I know, home letters are usually enough to send one straight to
+bed with a headache! They never sound a note of hope from first to
+last; although if you had no home, but only a house, like me, with no
+one but a caretaker in it, you'd be very thankful to get them, doleful
+or not."
+
+"I doubt it," Mark answered, for Amy's letter seemed to be burning a
+hole in his pocket at that moment. He had skimmed it hurriedly
+through, but parts of it were already only too plain.
+
+When the others had gone into the house, he went off by himself, and
+jumping the low fence that divided the lawn from the fields beyond, he
+flung himself down under a tree to read it over again. Carnaby,
+spying him there, came rushing from the house, and was soon pouring
+out a tale of something that had happened somewhere, and throwing
+stones as he talked, at the birds circling about the ivied tower of
+the little church.
+
+The field was full of buttercups up to the very churchyard walls. "I
+must get away by myself for a bit," Lavendar thought. "That boy's
+chatter will drive me mad." At this point Carnaby's volatile attention
+was diverted by the sight of a gardener mounting a ladder to clear the
+sparrows' nests from the water chutes, and he jumped up in a twinkling
+to take his part in this new joy. Lavendar rose, and strolled off with
+his hands in his pockets and his bare head bent. The grass he walked
+in was a very Field of the Cloth of Gold. His shoes were gilded by the
+pollen from the buttercups, his eyes dazzled by their colour; it was a
+relief to pass through the stone archway that led into the little
+churchyard. To his spirit at that moment the chill was refreshing. He
+loitered about for a few minutes, and then seeing that the door was
+open, he entered the church, closing the door gently behind him.
+
+It was very quiet in there and even the chirping of the sparrows was
+softened into a faint twitter. Here at last was a place set apart, a
+moment of stillness when he might think things out by himself.
+
+He took out Amy's letter, smoothing it flat on the prayer books before
+him, and forced himself to read it through. The early paragraphs dealt
+with some small item of family news which in his present state of mind
+mattered to Lavendar no more than the distant chirruping of the birds,
+out there in the sunshine. "You seem determined to stay for some time
+at Stoke Revel," his sister wrote. "No doubt the pretty American is
+the attraction. She sounds charming from your description, but my dear
+man, that's all froth! How many times have I heard this sort of thing
+from you before! Remember I know everything about your former loves."
+
+"You _don't_, then," said Lavendar to himself. Down, down, down at the
+bottom of the well of the heart where truth lies, there is always some
+remembrance, generally a very little one, that can never be told to
+any confidant.
+
+"You will find out faults in Mrs. Loring presently, just like the rest
+of them," continued the pitiless writer. (Amy's handwriting was
+painfully distinct.) "I must tell you that at the Cowleys' the other
+day, I suddenly came face to face with Gertrude Meredith _and Dolly_!
+Dolly looks a good deal older already and fatter, I thought. I fear
+she is losing her looks, for her colour has become fixed, and she
+_will_ wear no collars still, although on a rather thick neck, it's
+not at all becoming. I spoke to her for about three minutes, as it was
+less awkward, when we met suddenly face to face like that. She laughed
+a good deal, and asked for you rather audaciously, I thought. They
+live near Winchester now, and since the Colonel's death are pretty
+badly off, Gertrude says. Dolly is going to Devonshire to stay with
+the Cowleys; you may meet her there any day, remember. It does seem
+incredible to me that a man of your discrimination could have been won
+by the obvious devotion of a girl like Dolly; but having given your
+word I almost think you would better have kept it, rather than suffer
+all this criticism from a host of mutual friends."
+
+Lavendar groaned aloud. He had a good memory, and with all too great
+distinctness did he now remember Dolly Meredith's laugh. How wretched
+it had all been; not a word had ever passed between them that had any
+value now. If he could have washed the thought of her forever from his
+memory, how greatly he would have rejoiced at that moment.
+
+Well, it was over; written down against him, that he had been what the
+world called a jilt and a fool; yes, certainly a fool, but not so
+great a one as to follow his folly to its ultimate conclusion, and tie
+himself for life to a woman he did not love.
+
+Lavendar was extraordinarily sensitive about the breaking of his
+engagement; partly because Miss Meredith herself, in her first rage,
+had avowed his responsibility for her blighted future, giving him no
+chance for chivalrous behaviour; partly because in all his transient
+love affairs he had easily tired of the women who inspired them. He
+seemed thirsty for love, but weary of it almost as soon as the draught
+reached his lips.
+
+And now had he a chance again?--or was it all to end in disappointment
+once more, in that cold disappointment of the heart that has received
+stones for bread? It was not entirely his own fault; he had expected
+much from life, and hitherto had received very little. But Robinette!
+
+"Let me find all her faults now," he said to himself, "or evermore
+keep silent; meantime I hope I am not concealing too many of my
+own."
+
+He tried to force himself into criticism; to look at her as a cold
+observer from the outside would have done; for that curious Border
+country of Love which he had entered has not an equable climate at
+all. It is fire and frost alternate; and criticism is either roused
+almost to a morbid pitch, or else the faculty is drugged, and nothing,
+not even the enumeration of a hundred foibles will awaken it for a
+time.
+
+When the cold fit had been upon him the evening before, Lavendar had
+said to himself that her manner was too free--that she had led him on
+too quickly; no, that expression was dishonourable and unjust; he
+repented it instantly; she had been too unself-conscious, too girlish,
+too unthinking, in what she said and did. "But she's a widow after
+all, though she's only two and twenty," he went on to himself. "Hang
+it! I wish she were not! If her heart were in her husband's grave I
+should be moaning at that; and because I see that it is not, I become
+critical. There's nothing quite perfect in life!"
+
+He had begun by noticing some little defects in her personal
+appearance, but he was long past that now; what did such trifles
+matter, here or there? Then he remembered all that he had heard said
+about American women. Did those pretty clothes of hers mean that she
+would be extravagant and selfish to obtain them? Could a young man
+with no great fortune offer her the luxury that was necessary to her?
+and even so, what changes come with time! He had a full realization of
+what the boredom of family life can be, when passion has grown stale.
+
+"At seventy, say, when I am palsied and she is old and fat, will
+romance be alive then? Will such feeling leave anything real behind it
+when it falls away, as the white blossoms on Mrs. Prettyman's plum
+tree will shrink and fall a fortnight hence?"
+
+He looked about him. On the walls of the little church were tablets
+with the de Tracy names; the names of her forefathers amongst them.
+Under his feet were other flags with names upon them too; and out
+there in the sunshine were the grave-stones of a hundred dead. How
+many of them had been happy in their loves?
+
+Not so many, he thought, if all were told, and why should he hope to
+be different? Yet surely this was a new feeling, a worthy one, at
+last. It was not for her charming person that he loved her; not
+because of her beauty and her gaiety only; but because he had seen in
+her something that gave a promise of completion to his own nature, the
+something that would satisfy not only his senses but his empty heart.
+
+He clenched his hands on the carved top of the old pew in front of
+him, which was fashioned into a laughing gnome with the body of a
+duck. "And if this should be all a dream," he asked himself again, "if
+this should all be false too! Good Lord!" he cried half aloud, "I
+want to be honest now! I want to find the truth. My whole life is on
+the throw this time!"
+
+There was a moment's silence after he had uttered the words. He got up
+and moved slowly down the aisle, opening the door, seeing again the
+meadow of buttercups, yellow as gold, and listening again to the
+sparrows chirruping in the sunshine outside.
+
+"I have been in that church a quarter of an hour," he said to himself,
+"and in trying to dive to the depths of myself and find out whether I
+was giving a woman all I had to give, I did not get time to consider
+that woman's probable answer, should I place my uninteresting life and
+liberty at her disposal."
+
+
+
+
+XV
+
+"NOW LUBIN IS AWAY"
+
+
+Lavendar made his adieux after luncheon and went off to London.
+"Good-bye for the present, Mrs. de Tracy; I shall be back on Wednesday
+probably, if I can arrange it," he said. "Good-bye, Mrs. Loring," and
+here he altered the phrase to "Shall I come back on Wednesday?" for
+his hostess had left the open door.
+
+There was no hesitation, but all too little sentiment, about
+Robinette's reply.
+
+"Wednesday, at the latest, are my orders," she answered merrily, and
+with the words ringing in his ears Lavendar took his departure.
+
+"Do you remember that this is the afternoon of the garden party at
+Revelsmere?" Mrs. de Tracy enquired, coming into the drawing room a
+few minutes later, where Mrs. Loring stood by the open window. She
+had allowed herself just five minutes of depression, staring out at
+the buttercup meadow. How black the rooks looked as they flew about it
+and how dreary everything was, now that Lavendar had gone! She was
+woman enough to be able to feel inwardly amused at her own absurdity,
+when she recognized that the ensuing three days seemed to stretch out
+into a limitless expanse of dullness. "The village seemed asleep or
+dead now Lubin was away!" Still, after all, it was an occasion for
+wearing a pretty frock, and she knew herself well enough to feel sure
+that the sight of a few of her fellow-creatures even pretending to
+enjoy themselves, would make her volatile spirits rise like the
+mercury in a thermometer on a hot day.
+
+Miss Smeardon was to be her companion, as Mrs. de Tracy had a headache
+that afternoon and was afraid of the heat, she said. "What heat?"
+Robinette had asked innocently, for in spite of the brilliant sunlight
+the wind blew from the east, keen as a knife. "I shall take a good
+wrap in the carriage in spite of this tropical temperature," she
+thought. Carnaby refused point blank to drive with them; he would
+bicycle to the party or else not go at all, so it was alone with Miss
+Smeardon that Robinette started in the heavy old landau behind the
+palsied horse.
+
+Miss Smeardon gave one glance at Mrs. Loring's dress, and Robinette
+gave one glance at Miss Smeardon's, each making her own comments.
+
+"That white cloth will go to the cleaner, I suppose, after one
+wearing, and as for that thing on her head with lilac wistaria
+drooping over the brim, it can't be meant as a covering, or a
+protection, either from sun or wind; it's nothing but an ornament!"
+Miss Smeardon commented; while to herself Robinette ejaculated,--
+
+"A penwiper, an old, much-used penwiper, is all that Miss Smeardon
+resembles in that black rag!"
+
+Carnaby, watching the start at the door, whistled in open admiration
+as Robinette came down the steps.
+
+"Well, well! we are got up to kill this afternoon; pity old Mark has
+just gone; but cheer up, Cousin Robin, there's always a curate on
+hand!"
+
+For once Robinette's ready tongue played her false, and a sense of
+loneliness overcame her at the sound of Lavendar's name. She gathered
+up her long white skirts and got into the carriage with as much
+dignity as she could muster, while Carnaby, his eyes twinkling with
+mischief, stood ready to shut the door after Miss Smeardon.
+
+"Hope you'll enjoy your drive," he jeered. "You'll need to hold on
+your hats. Bucephalus goes at such fiery speed that they'll be torn
+off your heads unless you do."
+
+"Middy dear, you're not the least amusing," said Robinette quite
+crossly, and with a lurch the carriage moved off.
+
+Miss Smeardon settled herself for conversation. "I'm afraid you will
+find me but a dull companion, Mrs. Loring," she said, glancing
+sideways at Robinette from under the brim of her mushroom hat.
+
+"Oh, you will be able to tell me who everyone is," said Robinette as
+cheerfully as she could.
+
+"I am no gossip," Miss Smeardon protested.
+
+"It isn't necessary to gossip, is it?--but I've a wholesome interest
+in my fellow creatures."
+
+"And it is well to know about people a little; when one comes among
+strangers as you do, Mrs. Loring; one can't be too careful--an
+American, particularly."
+
+Miss Smeardon's voice trailed off upon a note of insinuation; but
+Robinette took no notice of the remark. She did not seem to have
+anything to say, so Miss Smeardon took up another subject.
+
+"What a pity that Mr. Lavendar had to leave before this afternoon; he
+would have been such an addition to our party!"
+
+"Yes, wouldn't he?" Robinette agreed, though she carefully kept out of
+her voice the real passion of assent that was in her heart.
+
+"Mr. Lavendar is so agreeable, I always think," Miss Smeardon went on.
+"Everyone likes him; he almost carries his pleasant ways too far. I
+suppose that was how--" She paused, and added again, "Oh, but as I
+said, I never talk scandal!"
+
+"Do you think it's possible to be too pleasant?" Robinette remarked,
+stupidly enough, scarcely caring what she said.
+
+"Well, when it leads a poor girl to imagine that she is loved! I hear
+that Dolly Meredith is just heart-broken. The engagement kept on for
+quite a year, I believe, and then to break it off so heartlessly!--I
+was reminded of it all by coming here. Miss Meredith is a cousin of
+our hostess, and they met first at Revelsmere when they were quite
+young."
+
+"There is always a certain amount of talk when an engagement has to
+be broken off," said Robinette in a cold voice.
+
+"They seemed quite devoted at first," Miss Smeardon began; but
+Robinette interrupted her.
+
+"The sooner such things are forgotten the better, I think," she said.
+"No one, except the two people concerned, ever knows the real
+truth.--Tell me, Miss Smeardon, whom we are likely to meet at
+Revelsmere? Who is our hostess? What sort of parties does she give?"
+
+Being so firmly switched off from the affairs of Mr. Lavendar and Miss
+Meredith, it was impossible for Miss Smeardon to talk about them any
+more, and she had to turn to a less congenial theme.
+
+"We shall meet the neighbours," she told Robinette, "but I am afraid
+they may not interest you very much. I understand that in America you
+are accustomed to a great deal of the society of gentlemen. Here there
+are so few, and all of them are married."
+
+"All?" laughed Robinette.
+
+"Well, there is Mr. Finch, the curate, but he is a celibate; and young
+Mr. Tait of Strewe, but he is slightly paralysed."
+
+"Why, Carnaby must be quite an eligible bachelor in these parts," said
+Robinette; but Miss Smeardon was so deadly literal that she accepted
+the remark as a serious one.
+
+"Not quite yet; in a few years' time we shall need to be very careful,
+there are so many girls here, but not all of them desirable, of
+course."
+
+"There are? What a dull time they must have with the Married Men, the
+Celibate, the Paralytic, and Carnaby! I'm glad my girlhood wasn't
+spent in Devonshire."
+
+Conversation ended here, for the carriage rumbled up the avenue, and
+Robinette looked about her eagerly. Revelsmere was a nice old house,
+surrounded by fine sloping lawns and a background of sombre
+beechwoods. The lawns to-day were dotted with groups of people, mainly
+women, and elderly at that. As Robinette and Miss Smeardon alighted
+at the door an elderly hostess welcomed them, and an elderly host led
+them across the lawn and straightly they fell into the clutches of
+more and more elderlies.
+
+"It is fairly bewildering!" Robinette cried in her heart; then she saw
+a bevy of girls approaching; such nice-looking girls, happy, well
+dressed, but all unattended by their suitable complement of young
+men.
+
+"For whom do they dress, here? They've a deal of self-respect, I
+think, to go on getting themselves up so nicely for themselves and the
+Celibate, the Paralytic, and Carnaby," thought Robinette, as she
+watched them.
+
+Presently another couple came across the lawn; the young woman was by
+no means a girl, rather heavily built, with a high fixed colour. She
+was attended by a man. "Not the Celibate certainly," thought Mrs.
+Loring with a glance at his bullock-like figure, his thick neck, and
+glossy black hair, "nor the Paralytic; and it's not Carnaby. It must
+be a new arrival!"
+
+At that moment it began to rain, but nothing daunted, their hostess
+approached her, and saying pleasantly that she wished to introduce her
+to Miss Meredith, she left Robinette and the young woman standing
+together under a spreading tree, and took the gentleman away with
+her.
+
+The moment that she heard the name, Robinette realized who Miss
+Meredith was. They seated themselves side by side on a garden bench,
+and Miss Meredith remarked upon the heat, planting a rather fat hand
+upon the arm of the garden seat, and surveying it complacently,
+especially the very bright diamond ring upon the third finger.
+
+After a few preliminary remarks, she asked Mrs. Loring if she were
+stopping in the neighbourhood.
+
+"Yes, I am staying at Stoke Revel for a short time," Robinette
+replied; "Mrs. de Tracy is my aunt, or at least I am Admiral de
+Tracy's niece."
+
+Her companion did not seem to take the least interest in this part of
+the information, only when Stoke Revel was mentioned she looked around
+suddenly as if surprised.
+
+They talked upon indifferent subjects, while Robinette, as she watched
+Miss Meredith, was saying a good deal to herself, although she only
+spoke aloud about the weather and the Devonshire scenery.
+
+"I will be just, if I can't be generous," she thought. "She has (or
+she must once have had) a fine complexion. I dare say she is sincere
+enough; she may be sensible; she might be good-humoured,--when
+pleased."
+
+"There is going to be a shower," said Miss Meredith, "but I've nothing
+on to spoil," she added, glancing at Robinette's hat.
+
+Sitting there on the bench, hearing the spitting rain upon the water
+below them and watching the leaden mists that slowly gathered over the
+landscape, Robinette fell upon a moment of soul sickness very unusual
+to her. Miss Meredith too was silent, absorbed in her own thoughts.
+
+"If she had looked even a little different it would have been so much
+easier to explain," thought Robinette. Then suddenly she glanced up.
+She saw that her companion's face had softened, and changed. There was
+a look,--Robinette caught it just for one moment,--such as a proud
+angry child might have worn: sulky, hurt to the heart, but determined
+not to cry. Instantly a chord was struck in Robinette's soul. "She has
+suffered, anyway," she thought. "May I be forgiven for my harsh
+judgment!"
+
+With a shiver she drew her wrap about her shoulders, and Miss Meredith
+turned towards her. The expression Robinette had noticed passed from
+the high-coloured face and left it as before, self-complacent and
+slightly patronizing. "You seem to feel cold," she said. "I never do;
+which is rather unfortunate, as I'm just going out to India!"
+
+"Indeed? How soon are you going?"
+
+"In about six weeks. I'm just going to be married, and we sail
+directly afterwards," said Miss Meredith. "You saw Mr. Joyce, I think,
+when we came up together a few minutes ago?"
+
+A weight as if of a ton of lead was lifted from Robinette's heart as
+she spoke. She could scarcely refrain from jumping up to throw her
+arms about Dolly Meredith's neck and kiss her. As it was, she bubbled
+over with a kind of sympathetic interest that astonished the other
+woman. It is only too easy to lead an approaching bride to talk about
+her own affairs, for she can seldom take in the existence of even her
+nearest and dearest at such a time, and in a few minutes the two young
+women were deep in conversation. When a quarter of an hour later Miss
+Smeardon appeared to tell Robinette that they must be going, she
+looked up with a start at the sound of footsteps on the gravel path.
+"Oh, you are here, Mrs. Loring; we couldn't think where you had
+gone," said Miss Smeardon, acidly.
+
+"And here is Miss Meredith of all people!" she continued, "I thought
+you were sure to be on the tennis court, Miss Meredith; Mr. Joyce is
+playing now."
+
+"Oh, we have had such a delightful talk," said Dolly, so flushed with
+pleasure that Miss Smeardon gazed at her in astonishment.
+
+"If only I knew her well enough to send her a munificent wedding
+present! How I should love to do so; just to register my own joy,"
+said Robinette to herself. As it was she shook hands very warmly with
+Miss Meredith before they parted, and when half way across the lawn,
+looked back again, and waved her hand gaily. Miss Meredith was pacing
+the grass, and treading heavily beside her, with a very gallant air,
+was her bullock-like young man.
+
+"Mr. Joyce is quite wealthy," said Miss Smeardon. "I understand that
+he is an only son too, and will some day inherit a fine property.
+Miss Meredith is most fortunate, at her age and with her history."
+
+Robinette said nothing. She looked out at the glistening reaches of
+the river, now shining through the silver mist; at the fields yellow
+with buttercups, and the folds of the distant hills. As they drove up
+the lane to the house, the birds, refreshed by the rain, were singing
+like angels. In her heart too, something was singing as blithely as
+any bird amongst them all.
+
+"Sometimes, sometimes our mistakes do not come home to roost!" she
+thought, "but fly away and make nests elsewhere--rich nests in India
+too!"
+
+"How did you enjoy the party, Cousin Robin?" said Carnaby, who
+was waiting for them in the doorway. "I had a good tuck-in of
+strawberries. The ladies were a little young for my taste; just
+immature girls; no one under sixty, and rather frisky, don't you
+think? By the way did you see Number One and her millionaire?"
+
+"I don't know what you mean by Number One," said Robinette, haughtily,
+as she passed in at the door.
+
+"You will, when you're Number Two!" rejoined Carnaby, stooping to
+pinch Lord Roberts' tail till the hero yelped aloud.
+
+
+
+
+XVI
+
+TWO LETTERS
+
+
+Lavendar tore up his fourth sheet of paper and began afresh. "Dear
+Mrs. Loring." No, that would not do; he took another sheet, and began
+again:--
+
+"My dear Mrs. Loring,--Your commission for old Mrs. Prettyman has
+taken some little time to execute, for I had to go to two or three
+shops before finding a chair 'with green cushions, and a wide seat, so
+comfortable that it would almost act as an anæsthetic if her
+rheumatism happened to be bad, and yet quite suitable for a cottage
+room.' These were my orders, I think, and like all your orders they
+demand something better than the mere perfunctory observance. My own
+proportions differing a good deal from those of the old lady, it is
+still an open question whether what seemed comfortable to me will be
+quite the same to her. I can but hope so, and the chair will be
+dispatched at once.
+
+"London is noisy and dusty, and grimy and stuffy, and, to one man at
+least, very, very dull. A boat on Greenshaw ferry seems the only spot
+in the world where any gaiety is to be found. You can hear the cuckoos
+calling across the river as you read this, no doubt, and Carnaby is
+rendered happier than he deserves by being allowed to row you down to
+tell Mrs. Prettyman about the chair. I feel as if, like the Japanese,
+I could journey a hundred miles to worship that wonderful tree.--Don't
+let the blossoms fall until I come!
+
+"There seems a good deal of business to be done. My father unfortunately
+is no better, so he cannot come down to Stoke Revel, and I shall
+probably return upon Wednesday morning. A poem of Browning's runs in my
+head--something about three days--I can't quote exactly.
+
+"If my sister were writing this letter, she would say that I have been
+very hard to please, and uninterested in everything since I came home.
+Indeed it seems as if I were. London in this part of it, in hot
+weather, makes a man weary for green woods, a sliding river, and a
+Book of Verses underneath a Bough. Well, perhaps I shall have all of
+them by Wednesday afternoon. You will think I can do nothing but
+grumble. All the same, into what was the mere dull routine of
+uncongenial work before, your influence has come with a current of new
+energy; like the tide from the sea swelling up into the inland
+river.--I'm at it again! Rivers on the brain evidently.
+
+"I hope meanwhile that Carnaby behaves himself, and is not too much of
+a bore, and that England,--England in spring at least, is gaining a
+corner in your heart? Your mother called it home, remember. Yes, do
+try to remember that!
+
+"Did you go to the garden party? Did you walk? Did you drive? Did you
+like it? Who was there? Were you dull?"
+
+                  *       *       *       *       *
+
+There was a postscript:--
+
+"I have found the verse from Browning, 'So I shall see her in three
+days.'
+
+                                                               "M. L."
+
+                  *       *       *       *       *
+
+                                                       "Tuesday, 19th.
+
+"Dear Mr. Lavendar: First, many thanks for Nurse's armchair, which
+arrived in perfect order, and is a shining monument to your good
+taste. She does nothing but look at it, shrouding it when she retires
+to bed with an old table-cover, to protect it from the night air.
+
+"Whether she will ever make its acquaintance thoroughly enough to sit
+in it I do not know, but it will give her an enormous amount of
+pleasure. Perhaps her glow of pride in its possession does her as much
+good as the comfort she might take in its use.
+
+"Her 'rheumatics' are very painful just now, and I have a good deal to
+do with Duckie. You remember Duckie? I call her Mrs. Mackenzie, after
+that lady in The Newcomes who talked the Colonel to death. Mrs.
+Mackenzie is heavy, elderly, and strong-willed. I am acquainted with
+every bone, tendon, and sinew in her body, having to lift her into a
+coop behind the cottage where she will not wake Nurse at dawn with her
+eternal quacking. She has heretofore slept under Nurse's bedroom
+window and dislikes change of any kind. So lucky she has no offspring!
+I tremble to think of what maternal example might do in such a
+talkative family!
+
+"Stoke Revel is as it was and ever will be, world without end; only
+Aunt de Tracy is crosser than when you are here and life is not as
+gay, although Carnaby does his dear, cubbish best. If ever you
+desire your mental jewels to shine at their brightest; if ever you
+wish a tolerably good disposition to seem like that of an angel; if
+ever, in a fit of vanity, you would like to appear as a blend of
+Apollo, Lancelot, Demosthenes, Prince Charlie, Ajax, and Solomon,
+just fly to Stoke Revel and become part of the household. Assume
+nothing; simply appear, and the surroundings will do the rest; like
+the penny-in-the-slot arrangements. Seen upon a background of Bates,
+William, Benson, Big Cummins, the Curate, Miss Smeardon, and may I
+dare to add, the lady of the Manor herself,--any living breathing
+man takes on an Olympian majesty. I shouldn't miss you in Boston
+nor in London; perhaps even in Weston I might find a wretched
+substitute, but here you are priceless!
+
+"I have some news for you. On Saturday Miss Smeardon and I went to a
+garden party. That was what it was called. The thermometer was only
+slightly below zero when we started, and that luminary masquerading as
+the sun was pretending to shine. Soon after we arrived at the festive
+scene, there were gusts of wind and rain. I sought the shelter of a
+spreading tree, the kitchen fire not being available, and I was joined
+there by the hostess, who presented her niece, your Miss Meredith.
+
+"Dear Mr. Lavendar, this is a subject we cannot write about, you and
+I. I am loyal to my sex, and what Miss Meredith said, and looked, and
+did, are all as sacred to me as they ought to be. I only want to tell
+you that she is happy; that she has this very week become engaged, and
+is going to India with her husband in a month. Now that little
+cankerworm, that has been gnawing at your roots of life for the last
+year or two, has done its worst, and you are perfectly free to go and
+make other mistakes. I only hope you'll get 'scot free' from those,
+too, for I don't like to see nice men burn their fingers. We became
+such good friends huddled up in that boat when we were stuck in the
+mud--Ugh! I can smell it now!--that I am glad to be the first to send
+you pleasant news.
+
+                                             "Sincerely yours,
+                                                 "ROBINETTA LORING."
+
+
+
+
+XVII
+
+MRS. DE TRACY CROSSES THE FERRY
+
+
+Lavendar's blunt refusal, except under certain conditions, to
+announce to Mrs. Prettyman her coming ejection from the cottage at
+Wittisham, was unprofessional enough, as he himself felt; but it
+was final and categorical. Conveying as it did a sort of tacit
+remonstrance, this refusal had an unfortunate effect, for it only
+served to rouse Mrs. de Tracy's formidable obstinacy. She had
+seized upon one point only in their numberless and wearisome
+discussions of the matter: Mrs. Prettyman had no legal claim upon
+Stoke Revel. To give her compensation for the plum tree would be to
+allow that she had; to create a precedent highly dangerous under the
+circumstances. How could one refuse to other old women or old men
+leaving their cottages what one had weakly granted to her? The
+demands would be unceasing, the trouble endless. So arguing, Mrs. de
+Tracy soon brought herself to a state of determination bordering on a
+sort of mania. She was old, and in exaggerated harshness her life was
+retreating as it were into its last stronghold, at bay.
+
+As good as her word, for she had vowed she would warn Mrs. Prettyman
+herself, and she was never one to procrastinate, the lady of the Manor
+proceeded to plan her visit to Wittisham. She had not crossed the
+river for years. Wittisham, one of the loveliest villages in England,
+perhaps, though little known, was a thorn in her side, as it would
+have been in that of any other landlord with empty pockets.
+
+What you could not deal with to your own advantage, it was better to
+ignore, and on this autocratic principle, Mrs. de Tracy had left
+Wittisham to itself.
+
+But now the boat carried her there, alone and fierce--_thrawn_, as
+the Scotch say--bent upon a course of conduct that she knew would
+hold her up to the hatred of every right-thinking person of her
+acquaintance, and bitterly triumphant in the knowledge. The
+meanness of her errand never struck her. On the contrary, she would
+have argued it was one well worthy of her, a part of the scheme in
+the consummation of which she had spent her married life and her whole
+indomitable energy, losing actually her own identity in the process,
+and becoming an inexorable machine. That scheme was the holding
+together of Stoke Revel for the de Tracys, the maintenance of family
+dignity and power, the pre-eminence of a race that had always ruled.
+The river beneath her, carrying her to the fulfilment of her duty,
+the noble river, widening to the sea, subject to its tides and made
+turbulent by its storms, typified to Mrs. de Tracy only the
+greatness of Stoke Revel. From its banks the de Tracys had sent out,
+generation after generation, men who had commanded fleets, who
+had upheld the national honour upon the farthest seas, very often at
+the cost of life. There was no sacrifice of herself at which Mrs.
+de Tracy would have hesitated in upholding this ideal, no sacrifice
+of others, either. What was Lizzie Prettyman in comparison? A bag
+of old bones, fit for nothing but the workhouse!
+
+"A little faster, William," said the widow, sitting upright in the
+stern, and William the footman bent to his oars, the beads of
+perspiration standing on his brow. When Mrs. de Tracy stepped out upon
+the pier, she had to be reminded where the Prettyman cottage was.
+
+"You'll know it by the plum tree, ma'am," said William respectfully,
+"everybody does."
+
+It was not far off on the river side. The tide had ebbed and left a
+stretch of muddy foreshore in front of it, where the rotting poles for
+hanging the fishing nets out to dry stood gauntly up. Mrs. de Tracy
+approached the steps, which merged into the flagged path before the
+door, and paused to survey the property she intended to part with. She
+had no eye for the picturesque. A few white petals from the blossoming
+plum tree, scattered by the breeze, fell upon her black bonnet and
+shoulders. A faint scent of honey came from it and the hum of bees,
+for the day was warm. The tumble-down condition of the cottage engaged
+Mrs. de Tracy's attention.
+
+"And for this," she thought scornfully, "a man will give hundreds of
+pounds! There's truth in the adage that a fool and his money are soon
+parted!"
+
+She mounted the steps that led up to the patch of garden, her keen,
+cold eyes everywhere at once. "A cat can't sneeze without she 'ears
+'im!" her villagers at Stoke Revel were wont to say, disappearing into
+their houses as rabbits into their burrows at sight of a terrier.
+
+Old Elizabeth Prettyman stood at her door, and it took some time to
+make her realize who her august visitor was. She was getting blind;
+she had never been a favourite with Mrs. de Tracy, nor had she entered
+Stoke Revel Manor since her nursling disgraced it by marrying a Bean.
+She curtseyed humbly to the great lady.
+
+"There now, ma'am," she said, "it's not often we have seen you across
+the river. Will you please to come inside and sit down, ma'am? 'T is
+very warm this afternoon, it is." She was a good deal fluttered in her
+welcome, for there was that in Mrs. de Tracy's air that seemed to bode
+misfortune.
+
+"I shall sit down for a few minutes, Elizabeth," was the reply, "while
+I explain my visit to you."
+
+Mrs. Prettyman stood aside respectfully, and Mrs. de Tracy swept past
+her into the cottage and seated herself there. It never occurred to
+her to ask the old woman to sit down in her own house; she expected
+her to stand throughout the interview. Without further preamble,
+then, Mrs. de Tracy came to the point:--
+
+"Elizabeth," she said, "I have come to tell you that I am going to
+sell the land on which this cottage stands, and that you will have to
+find some other home."
+
+The old woman did not understand for a minute. "You be going to sell
+the land, ma'am?" she repeated stupidly.
+
+"Yes, I am. A gentleman from London wishes to buy it; you will need to
+go."
+
+"A gentleman from London! Lor, ma'am, no gentleman from London
+wouldn't live 'ere!" Elizabeth cried, perfectly dazed by the
+statement.
+
+Mrs. de Tracy repeated: "It is not your business, Elizabeth, what he
+intends to do with the place; all you have to do is to remove from the
+house."
+
+The old woman sank down on the nearest chair and covered her face with
+her hands. She was so old and so tired that she had no heart to face
+life under new conditions, even should they be better than those she
+left. A younger woman would have snapped her fingers in Mrs. de
+Tracy's face, so to speak, and wished her joy of her old rattletrap of
+a house, but Elizabeth Prettyman, after a lifetime of struggles, had
+not vitality enough for such an action. She had never dreamed of
+leaving the cottage, and where was she to go? Her furrowed face wore
+an expression of absolute terror now when she looked up.
+
+"But where be I to live, ma'am?" she cried.
+
+"I do not know, Elizabeth; you must arrange that with your relations,"
+said Mrs. de Tracy.
+
+"I don't 'ave but only me niece--'er as married down Exeter way."
+
+"Well, you should write to her then."
+
+"She don't want to keep me, Nettie don't,--she's but a poor man's
+wife, and five chillen she 'as; it's not like as if she were me
+daughter, ma'am."
+
+"You have some small sum of money of your own every year, have you
+not?" Mrs. de Tracy asked.
+
+"Ten pound a year, ma'am; the same that me 'usband left me; two
+'undred pounds 'e 'ad saved and 't is in an annuity; that's all I
+'ave--that and me plum tree."
+
+"The plum tree is not yours, either, Elizabeth; that belongs to the
+land," said Mrs. de Tracy curtly.
+
+"'T was me 'usband planted it, ma'am, years ago. We watched 'en and
+pruned 'en and tended 'en like a child we did--an' now to be told 'er
+ain't mine!"
+
+"You're forgetting yourself, Elizabeth, I think," said Mrs. de Tracy.
+It was simply impossible for her to see with the old woman's eyes; all
+she remembered was the legal fact that any tree planted in Stoke Revel
+ground belonged to the owner of the ground.
+
+"But ma'am, 't is a big part of me living is the plum tree; only
+yesterday I says to the young lady--Miss Cynthia's young lady--I
+says, 'Dear knows how 't would be with me without I had the plum
+tree.'"
+
+"I cannot help that, Elizabeth: the plum tree is not yours, it belongs
+to Stoke Revel."
+
+"Then ma'am, you'll be 'lowing me something for it surely?"
+
+"No," said Mrs. de Tracy obstinately, "you have no legal claim to
+compensation, Elizabeth. I cannot undertake to allow you anything for
+what is not yours. If I did it in your case you know quite well I
+should have to do it in many others."
+
+There was a long and heavy silence. Elizabeth Prettyman was taking in
+her sentence of banishment from her old home; Mrs. de Tracy was merely
+wondering how long it would take her to walk down that nasty steep bit
+of path to the ferry. At last the old woman looked up.
+
+"When must I be goin' then, ma'am?" she asked meekly.
+
+Mrs. de Tracy considered. "The transfer of land from one person to
+another generally takes some time: you will have several weeks here
+still; I shall send you notice later which day to quit."
+
+"Thank you, ma'am," said Elizabeth simply, and added, "The plum tree
+blossoms 'ul be over by that time."
+
+"I don't see what that has to do with it," said Mrs. de Tracy, in
+whose heart there was room for no sentiment.
+
+"'T would have been 'arder leavin' it in blossom time," the old woman
+explained; but her hearer could not see the point. She rose slowly
+from her chair and looked around the cottage.
+
+"I am glad to see that you keep your place clean and respectable,
+Elizabeth," she said. "I wish you good afternoon."
+
+Elizabeth never rose from her chair to see her visitor to the door--(an
+omission which Mrs. de Tracy was not likely to overlook)--she just sat
+there gazing stupidly around the tiny kitchen and muttering a word or
+two now and then. At last she got up and tottered to the garden.
+
+"I'll 'ave to leave it all--leave the old bench as me William did put
+for me with his own 'ands, and leave Duckie, Duckie can't never go to
+Exeter if I goes there,--and leave the plum tree." She limped across
+the little bit of sunny turf, and stood under the white canopy of the
+blossoming tree, leaning against its slender trunk. "Pity 't is we
+ain't rooted in the ground same as the trees are," she mused. "Then no
+one couldn't turn us out; only the Lord Almighty cut us down when our
+time came; Lord knows I'm about ready for that now--grave-ripe as you
+may say." She leaned her poor weary old head against the tree stem and
+wept, ready, ah! how ready, at that moment, to lay down the burden of
+her long and toilsome life.
+
+"Good afternoon, Nursie dear!" a clear voice called out in her ear,
+and Elizabeth started to find that Robinette had tip-toed across the
+grass and was standing close beside her. She lifted her tear-stained
+face up to Robinette's as a child might have done.
+
+"I've to quit, Missie," she sobbed, "to leave me 'ome and Duckie and
+the plum tree, an' I've no place to go to, and naught but my ten
+pounds to live on--and 't won't keep me without I've the plum tree,
+not when I've rent to pay from it; not if I don't eat nothing but tea
+an' bread never again!"
+
+In a moment Robinette's arms were about her: her soft young cheeks
+pressed against the withered old face.
+
+"What's this you're saying, Nurse?" she cried. "Leaving your cottage?
+Who said so?"
+
+"It's true, dear, quite true; 'asn't the lady 'erself been here to
+tell me so?"
+
+"Was that what Aunt de Tracy was here about? I met her on the road
+five minutes ago; she said she had been here on business! But tell me,
+Nurse, why does she want you to leave? Are you going to get a better
+cottage? Does she think this one isn't healthy for you?"
+
+"No, no, dear, 't isn't that, she 've sold the cottage over me 'ead,
+that's what 't is, or she's going to sell it, to a gentleman from
+London--Lord knows what a gentleman from London wants wi' 'en--and
+I've to quit."
+
+Robinette tried to be a peacemaker.
+
+"Then you'll get a much more comfortable house, that's quite certain.
+You know, though this one is lovely on fine days like this, that the
+thatch is all coming off, and I'm sure it's damp inside! Just wait a
+bit, and see if you don't get some nice cosy little place, with a
+sound roof and quite dry, that will cure this rheumatism of yours."
+
+But Mrs. Prettyman shook her head.
+
+"No, no, there won't be no cosy place given to me; I'm no more worth
+than an old shoe now, Missie, and I'm to be turned out, the lady said
+so 'erself; said as I must go to Exeter to live with me niece Nettie,
+and 'er don't want us--Nettie don't--and whatever shall I do without I
+'ave Duckie and the plum tree?"
+
+"Oh, but"--Robinette began, quite incredulously, and the old woman
+took up her lament again.
+
+"And I asked the lady, wouldn't I 'ave something allowed me for the
+plum tree--that 'ave about clothed me for years back? And 'No,' she
+says, ''t ain't your plum tree, Elizabeth, 't is mine; I can't 'low
+nothing on me own plum tree.'"
+
+Robinette still refused to believe the story.
+
+"Nurse, dear," she said, "you're a tiny bit deaf now, you know, and
+perhaps you misunderstood about leaving. Suppose you keep your dear
+old heart easy for to-night, and I'll come down bright and early
+to-morrow and tell you what it really is! If you have to leave the
+plum tree you'll get a fine price put on it that may last you for
+years; it's such a splendid tree, anyone can see it's worth a good
+deal."
+
+"That it be, Missie, the finest tree in Wittisham," the old woman
+said, drying her eyes, a little comforted by the assurance in
+Robinette's voice and manner.
+
+"There now, we won't have any more tears: I've brought a new canister
+of tea I sent for to London. I'm just dying to taste if it's good;
+we'll brew it together, Nursie; I shall carry out the little table
+from the kitchen and we'll drink our tea under the plum tree,"
+Robinette cried.
+
+She was carrying a great parcel under her arm, and when Mrs. Prettyman
+opened it, she could scarcely believe that this lovely red tin
+canister, filled with pounds of fragrant tea, could really be hers!
+The sight of such riches almost drove away her former fears. Robinette
+whisked into the kitchen and came out carrying the little round table
+which she set down under the white canopy of the plum tree. Then
+together they brought out the rest of the tea things, and what a merry
+meal they had!
+
+"It's just nonsense and a bit of deafness on your part, Nurse, so we
+won't remember anything about leaving the house, we are only going to
+think of enjoyment," Robinette announced. Then the old woman was
+comforted, as old people are wont to be by the brave assurances of
+those younger and stronger than themselves, forgot the spectre that
+seemed to have risen suddenly across her path, and laughed and talked
+as she sipped the fragrant London tea.
+
+
+
+
+XVIII
+
+THE STOKE REVEL JEWELS
+
+
+"Hullo! Cousin Robin, hurry up, you'll need all your time!" It was
+Carnaby of course who saluted Robinette thus, as she came towards the
+house on her return from Wittisham.
+
+"I'm not late, am I?" she said, consulting her watch.
+
+"I thought you'd be making a tremendous toilette; one of your killing
+ones to-night," Carnaby said. "Do! I love to see you all dressed up
+till old Smeardon's eyes look as if they would drop out when you come
+into the room."
+
+"I'll wear my black dress, and her eyes may remain in her head,"
+Robinette laughed.
+
+"And what about Mark's eyes? Wouldn't you like them to drop out?" the
+boy asked mischievously. "He's come back by the afternoon train while
+you were away at Wittisham."
+
+"Oh, has he?" Robinette said, and Carnaby stared so hard at her, that
+to her intense annoyance she blushed hotly.
+
+"Horrid lynx-eyed boy," she said to herself as she ran upstairs, "He's
+growing up far too quickly. He needs to be snubbed." She dashed to the
+wardrobe, pulled out the black garment, and gave it a vindictive shake.
+"Old, dowdy, unbecoming, deaconess-district-visitor-bible-woman,
+great-grand-auntly thing!" she cried.
+
+Then her eye lighted on a cherished lavender satin. She stood for a
+moment deliberating, the black dress over her arm, her eyes fixed upon
+the lavender one that hung in the wardrobe.
+
+"I don't care," she cried suddenly: "I'll wear the lavender, so here
+goes! Men are all colour blind, so he'll merely notice that I look
+nice. I must conceal from myself and everybody else how depressed I am
+over the interview with Nurse, and how I dread discussing the cottage
+with Aunt de Tracy. That must be done the first thing after dinner, or
+I shall lose what little courage I have."
+
+Lavendar thought he had never seen her look so lovely as when he met
+her in the drawing room a quarter of an hour later. There was nothing
+extraordinary about the dress but its exquisite tint and the sheen of
+the soft satin. The suggestion that lay in the colour was entirely
+lost upon him, however: if asked to name it he would doubtless have
+said "purplish." How he wished that he might have escorted her into
+the dining room, but Mrs. de Tracy was his portion as usual, and
+Robinette was waiting for Carnaby, who seemed unaccountably slow.
+
+"Your arm, Middy, when you are quite ready," she said to him at last.
+Carnaby's extraordinary unreadiness seemed to arise from his trying to
+smuggle some object up his sleeve. This proved, a few moments later,
+to be a bundle of lavender sticks tied with violet ribbon that he had
+discovered in his bureau drawer. He laid it by Robinette's plate with
+a whispered "My compliments."
+
+"What does your cousin want that bunch of lavender for, at the table?"
+Mrs. de Tracy enquired.
+
+"She likes lavender anywhere, ma'am," Carnaby said with a wink on the
+side not visible by his grandmother. "It's a favourite of hers."
+
+Robinette could only be thankful that Lavendar was occupied in a
+_sotto voce_ discussion of wine with Bates, and she was able to
+conceal the bundle of herbs before his eyes met hers, for the fury she
+felt against her precious young kinsman at that moment she could have
+expressed only by blows.
+
+Dinner seemed interminably long. Robinette, for more reasons than one,
+was preoccupied; Lavendar made few remarks, and Carnaby was possessed
+by a spirit of perfectly fiendish mischief, saying and doing
+everything that could most exasperate his grandmother, put her guests
+to the blush, and shock Miss Smeardon.
+
+But at last Mrs. de Tracy rose from the table, and the ladies followed
+her from the room, leaving Lavendar to cope alone with Carnaby.
+
+"My fair American cousin is more than usually lovely to-night, eh, Mr.
+Lavendar?" the boy said, with his laughable assumption of a man of the
+world.
+
+"There, my young friend; that will do! you're talking altogether too
+much," said Lavendar, as he poured himself out a glass of wine and sat
+down by the open window to drink it. Carnaby, perhaps not unreasonably
+offended, lounged out of the room, and left the older man to his own
+meditations.
+
+Robinette in the meantime went into the drawing room with her aunt,
+and they sat down together in the dim light while Miss Smeardon went
+upstairs to write a letter.
+
+"Aunt de Tracy," Robinette began, "I was calling on Mrs. Prettyman
+just after you had been with her this afternoon, and do you know the
+dear old soul had taken the strangest idea into her head! She says you
+are going to ask her to leave the cottage."
+
+"The land on which her cottage stands is about to be sold," said Mrs.
+de Tracy. "It is necessary that she should move."
+
+"Yes, she quite understood that; but she thinks she is not going to
+get another house; that was what was distressing her, naturally. Of
+course she hates to leave the old place, but I believe if she gets
+another nicer cottage, that will quite console her," said Robinette
+quickly.
+
+"I have no vacant cottage on the estate just now," said Mrs. de Tracy
+quietly.
+
+"Then what is she to do? Isn't it impossible that she should move
+until another place is made ready for her?" Robinette rose and stood
+beside the table, leaning the tips of her fingers on it in an attitude
+of intense earnestness. She was trying to conceal the anger and dismay
+she felt at her aunt's reply.
+
+"Mrs. Prettyman has relatives at Exeter," said Mrs. de Tracy without
+the quiver of an eyelid.
+
+"Yes; but they are poor. They aren't very near relations, and they
+don't want her. O Aunt de Tracy, is it necessary to make her leave?
+She depends upon the plum tree so! She makes twenty-five dollars a
+year from the jam!"
+
+"Dollars have no significance for me," said Mrs. de Tracy with an icy
+smile.
+
+"Well, pounds then: five pounds she makes. How is she ever going to
+live without that, unless you give her the equivalent? It's half her
+livelihood! I promised you would consider it? Was I wrong?"
+
+Old bitternesses rose in Mrs. de Tracy's heart, the prejudices and the
+grudges of a lifetime. Everything connected with Robinette's mother
+had been wrong in her eyes, and now everything connected with
+Robinette was wrong too, and becoming more so with startling
+rapidity.
+
+"You had no right whatsoever to make any promises on my behalf," she
+now said harshly. "You have acted foolishly and officiously. This is
+no business of yours."
+
+"I'll gladly make it my business if you'll let me, Aunt de Tracy!"
+pleaded Robinette. "If you don't feel inclined to provide for Mrs.
+Prettyman, mayn't I? She is my mother's old nurse and she shan't want
+for anything as long as I have a penny to call my own!" Robinette's
+eyes filled with tears, but Mrs. de Tracy was not a whit moved by this
+show of emotion, which appeared to her unnecessary and theatrical.
+
+"You are forgetting yourself a good deal in your way of speaking to me
+on this subject," she said coldly. "When I behaved unbecomingly in my
+youth, my mother always recommended me to go upstairs, shut myself up
+alone in my room, and collect my thoughts. The process had invariably
+a calming effect. I advise you to try it."
+
+Robinette did not need to be proffered the hint twice. She rushed out
+of the room like a whirlwind, not looking where she went. In the hall,
+she came face to face with Lavendar, who had just left the dining
+room.
+
+"Mr. Lavendar!" she cried. "Do go into the drawing room and speak to
+my aunt. Preach to her! Argue with her! Convince her that she can't
+and mustn't act in this way; can't go and turn Mrs. Prettyman out, and
+rob her of the plum tree, and leave her with hardly a penny in the
+world or a roof over her head!"
+
+"It's not a very pretty or a very pleasant business, Mrs. Loring, I
+admit," said Lavendar quietly.
+
+"Is it English law?" cried Robinette with indignation. "If it is, I
+call it mean and unjust!"
+
+"Sometimes the laws seem very hard," said Lavendar. "I'd like to
+discuss this affair with you quietly another time."
+
+As he spoke, Carnaby appeared and wanted to be told what the matter
+was, but Robinette discovered that it is not very easy to criticise a
+grandmother to her youthful grandson, more especially when the lady in
+question is your hostess.
+
+"Aunt de Tracy and I have had a little difference of opinion about
+Mrs. Prettyman and her cottage, and the plum tree," she said to the
+boy quietly, and Lavendar nodded approval.
+
+"Prettyman's got the sack, hasn't she?" Carnaby enquired with a boy's
+carelessness.
+
+Robinette looked very grave. "My dear old nurse is to leave her
+cottage," she said with a quiver in her voice. "She's to lose her plum
+tree--"
+
+"But of course she'll get compensation," cried Carnaby.
+
+"No, Middy; she's to get no compensation," said Robinette in a low
+voice.
+
+"Well, I call that jolly hard! It's a beastly shame," said Carnaby,
+evidently pricking up his ears and with a sudden frown that changed
+his face. "I say, Mark--" But Lavendar did not think the moment
+suitable for a discussion of Mrs. Prettyman's wrongs. Besides, he did
+not wish Robinette to be banished from the drawing room for a whole
+interminable evening. He contrived to silence Carnaby for the time
+being.
+
+"Let's bury the hatchet for a little while," he suggested. "Have you
+forgotten, Mrs. Loring, that I made Mrs. de Tracy promise to show off
+the Stoke Revel jewels for your benefit this very night?"
+
+"O! but now I'm in disgrace, she won't!" said Robinette.
+
+"Yes, she will!" said Carnaby. "Nothing puts the old lady in such a
+heavenly temper as showing off the jewels. Don't you miss it, Cousin
+Robin! It's like the Tower of London and Madam Tussaud's rolled into
+one, this show, I can assure you. Come on! Come back into the drawing
+room. Needn't be afraid when Mark's there!"
+
+Robinette found that a black look or two was all that she had to fear
+from Mrs. de Tracy at present, and even these became less severe
+under the alchemy of Lavendar's tact. A reminder that an exhibition of
+the jewelry had been promised was graciously received. Bates and
+Benson were summoned, and armed with innumerable keys, they descended
+to subterranean regions where safes were unlocked and jewel-boxes
+solemnly brought into the drawing room. Mrs. de Tracy wore an air
+almost devotional, as she unlocked the final receptacles with keys
+never allowed to leave her own hands.
+
+"If the proceedings had begun with prayer and ended with a hymn, it
+wouldn't have surprised me in the least!" Robinette said to herself,
+looking silently on. Her silence, luckily for her, was taken for the
+speechlessness of awe, and did a good deal to make up, in the eyes of
+her august relative, for her late indiscretions. As a matter of fact,
+her irreverent thoughts were mostly to the effect that all but the
+historical pieces of the Stoke Revel _corbeille_ would be the better
+of re-setting by Tiffany or Cartier.
+
+Mrs. de Tracy opened an old shagreen case and the firelight flickered
+on the diamonds of a small tiara.
+
+"This is a part of the famous Montmorency set," she announced proudly,
+with the tone of a Keeper of Regalia. Then she took out a rope of
+pearls ending in tassels. "These belonged to Marie Antoinette," she
+said.
+
+An emerald set was next produced, and the emeralds, it was explained,
+had once adorned a crown. Deep green they were, encrusted in their
+diamond setting; costly, unique; but they left Robinette cold, though
+like most American women, she loved precious stones as an adornment.
+One of those emeralds, she was thinking, was worth fifty times more
+than old Lizzie Prettyman's cottage: the sale of one of them would
+have averted that other sale which was to cause so much distress to a
+poor harmless old woman.
+
+"When do you wear your jewels, Aunt de Tracy?" she asked gravely.
+
+"I have not worn them since the Admiral's death," was the virtuous
+reply, "and I have never called or considered them mine, Robinetta.
+They are the de Tracy jewels. When Carnaby takes his place as the head
+of the house, they will be his. He will see that his wife wears them
+on the proper occasions."
+
+"Carnaby's wife!" thought Robinette. "Why! she mayn't be born! He may
+never have a wife! And to think of all those precious stones hiding
+their brightness in these boxes like prisoners in a dungeon for years
+and years, only to be let out now and then by Bates and Benson,
+jingling their keys like jailers! And this house is a prison too!" she
+said to herself; "a prison for souls!" and the thought of its hoarded
+wealth made her indignant; all this hidden treasure in a house where
+there was never enough to eat, where guests shivered in fireless
+bedrooms, where servants would not stay because they were starved! And
+Carnaby, too, whose youth was being embittered by unnecessary
+economies: Carnaby, who had so little pocket-money that he was a
+laughing-stock among his fellows--it was for Carnaby these sacrifices
+were being made! Strange traditions! Fetiches of family pride almost
+as grotesque to her thinking as those of any savages under the sun.
+
+"My poor dear Middy!" she thought. "What chance has he, brought up in
+an atmosphere like this?" But she happened to raise her eyes at the
+moment, and to see the actual Carnaby of the moment, not the Carnaby
+her gloomy imagination was evoking from the future with the "petty
+hoard of maxims preaching down" his heart. He had contrived to get
+hold of the Marie Antoinette pearls without his grandmother's
+knowledge and to hang them around his neck; he had poised the
+Montmorency tiara on his own sleek head; he had forced a heavy
+bracelet by way of collar round Rupert's throat, and now with that
+choking and goggling unfortunate held partner-wise in his arms, he was
+waltzing on tiptoe about the farther drawing room behind the
+unconscious backs of Mrs. de Tracy and Miss Smeardon.
+
+"He's only a careless boy," thought Robinette, "a happy-go-lucky,
+devil-may-care, hare-brained youngster. They can't have poisoned his
+nature yet, and I'm sure he has a good heart. If he were at the head
+of affairs at Stoke Revel instead of his grandmother, I wonder what
+would be done in the matter of my poor old nurse?" Robinette stood in
+the doorway for a moment before going up to her room. Her whole
+attitude spoke depression as Carnaby stole up behind her.
+
+"See here, Cousin Robin, I can't bear to have you go on like this.
+Don't take Prettyman's trouble so to heart. We'll do something! I'll
+do something myself! I have a happy thought."
+
+
+
+
+XIX
+
+LAWYER AND CLIENT
+
+
+Robinette had a bad night after the jewel exhibition, and a heavy head
+and aching eyes prompted her to ask Little Cummins to bring her
+breakfast to her bedroom.
+
+It was touching to see that small person hovering over Robinette:
+stirring the fire, sweeping the hearth, looping back the curtains,
+tucking the slippers out of sight, and moving about the room like a
+mother ministering to an ailing child. Finally she staggered in with
+the heavy breakfast tray that she had carried through long halls and
+up the stairs, and put it on the table by the bed.
+
+"There's a new-laid egg, ma'am, that cook 'ad for the mistress, but I
+thought you needed it more; an' I brewed the tea meself, to be sure,"
+she cooed; "an' I've spread the loaf same as you like, an' cut the
+bread thin, an' 'ere's one o' the roses you allers wears to breakfast;
+an' wouldn't your erming coat be a comfort, ma'am?"
+
+"Dear Little Cummins! How did you know I needed comfort? How did you
+guess I was homesick?"
+
+Robinette leaned her head against the housemaid's rough hand, always
+stained with black spots that would give way to no scrubbing. From
+morning to night she was in the coal scuttle or the grate or the
+saucer of black lead, for she did nothing but lay fires, light fires,
+feed fires, and tidy up after fires, for eight or nine months of the
+year.
+
+"You mustn't touch me, ma'am; I ain't fit; there's smut on me, an'
+hashes, this time o' day," said Little Cummins.
+
+"I don't care. I like you better with ashes than lots of people
+without. You mustn't stay in the coal scuttle all your life, Little
+Cummins; you must be my chambermaid some of these days when we can get
+a good substitute for Mrs. de Tracy. Would you like that, if the
+mistress will let you go?"
+
+Little Cummins put her apron up to her eyes, and from its depths came
+inarticulate bursts of gratitude and joy. Then peeping from it just
+enough to see the way to the door, she ran out like a hare and
+secluded herself in the empty linen-room until she was sufficiently
+herself to join the other servants.
+
+Robinette finished her breakfast and dressed. She had lacked courage
+to meet the family party, although she longed for a talk with Mark
+Lavendar. It was entirely normal, feminine, and according to all law,
+human and divine, but it appealed also to her sense of humour, that
+she should feel that this new man-friend could straighten out all the
+difficulties in the path. She waited patiently at her window until she
+saw him walk around the corner of the house, under the cedars, and up
+the twisting path, his head bent and bare, his hands in his pockets.
+Then she flung her blue cape over her shoulders and followed him.
+
+"Mr. Lavendar," she called, as she caught up with his slow step, "you
+said you would advise me a little. Let us sit on this bench a moment
+and find out how we can untangle all the knots into which Aunt de
+Tracy tied us yesterday. I am so afraid of her that I am sure I spoke
+timidly and respectfully to her at first; but perhaps I showed more
+feeling at the end than I should. I am willing to apologize to her for
+any lack of courtesy, but I don't see how I can retract anything I
+said."
+
+"It is hard for you," Lavendar replied, "because you have a natural
+affection for your mother's old nurse; and Mrs. de Tracy, I begin to
+believe, is more than indifferent to her. She has some active dislike,
+perhaps, the source of which is unknown to us."
+
+"But she is so unjust!" cried Robinette. "I never heard of an Irish
+landlord in a novel who would practice such a piece of eviction. If I
+must stand by and see it done, then I shall assert my right to provide
+for Nurse and move her into a new dwelling. After you left the drawing
+room last night, I begged as tactfully as I could that Aunt de Tracy
+would sell me some of the jewels, so that she need not part with the
+land at Wittisham. She was very angry, and wouldn't hear of it. Then I
+proposed buying the plum-tree cottage, that it might be kept in the
+family, and she was furious at my audacity. Perhaps the Admiral's
+niece is _not_ in the family."
+
+"She cannot endure anything like patronage, or even an assumption of
+equality," said Lavendar. "You must be careful there."
+
+"Should I be likely to patronize?" asked Robinette reproachfully.
+
+"No; but your acquaintance with your aunt is a very brief one, and she
+is an extraordinary character; hard to understand. You may easily
+stumble on a prejudice of hers at every step."
+
+"I shouldn't like to understand her any better than I do now," and
+Robinette pushed back her hair rebelliously.
+
+"Will you be my client for about five minutes?" asked Lavendar.
+
+"Yes, willingly enough, for I see nothing before me but to take Nurse
+Prettyman and depart in the first steamer for America."
+
+Mrs. Loring looked as if she were quite capable of this rather radical
+proceeding, and very much, too, as if any growing love for Lavendar
+that she might have, would easily give way under this new pressure of
+circumstances.
+
+"This is the situation in a nutshell," said Lavendar, filling his
+pipe. "Mrs. de Tracy is entirely within her legal rights when she asks
+Mrs. Prettyman to leave the cottage; legally right also when she
+declines to give compensation for the plum tree that has been a source
+of income; financially right moreover in selling cottage and land at a
+fancy price to find money for needed improvements on the estate."
+
+"None of this can be denied, I allow."
+
+"All these legal rights could have been softened if Mrs. de Tracy had
+been willing to soften them, but unfortunately she has been put on the
+defensive. She did not like it when I opposed her in the first place.
+She did not like it when my father advised her to make some small
+settlement, as he did, several days ago. She resented Mrs. Prettyman's
+assumption of owning the plum tree; she was outraged at your valiant
+espousing of your nurse's cause."
+
+"I see; we have simply made her more determined in her injustice."
+
+"Now it is all very well for you to show your mettle," Lavendar went
+on, "for you to endure your aunt's displeasure rather than give up a
+cause you know to be just; but look where it lands us."
+
+Robinette raised her troubled eyes to Lavendar's, giving a sigh to
+show she realized that her landing-place would be wherever the lawyer
+fixed it, not where she wished it.
+
+"Go on," she sighed patiently.
+
+"Your legal adviser regards it as impossible that you should come over
+from America and quarrel with your mother's family;--your only family,
+in point of fact. If this affair is fought to a finish you will feel
+like leaving your aunt's house."
+
+"I shouldn't have to wait for that feeling," said Robinette
+irrepressibly. "Aunt de Tracy would have it first!"
+
+"In such an event I could and would stand by you, naturally."
+
+"_Would_ you?" cried Robinette glowing instantly like a jewel.
+
+Lavendar looked at her in amazement. "Pray what do you take me for? On
+whose side could I, should I be, my dear--my dear Mrs. Loring? But to
+keep to business. In the event stated above, neither my father nor I
+could very well continue to have charge of the estate. That is a small
+matter, but increases the difficulties, owing to a long friendship
+dating back to the Admiral's time. Then we have Carnaby. Carnaby, my
+dear Mrs. Loring, belongs to you. Do you want to give him up? He
+adores you and you will have an unbounded influence on him, if you
+choose to exercise it."
+
+"How can I influence Carnaby--in America?"
+
+This was a blow, but Lavendar made no sign. "You may not always be in
+America," he said. "Now why not let Mrs. de Tracy sell the land and
+cottage and plum tree in the ordinary course of things? Oh, how I wish
+_I_ could buy the blessed thing!" he exclaimed, parenthetically.
+
+"Oh! how I wish _I_ could buy the plum tree, and keep it, always
+blossoming, in my morning-room!" sighed Robinette.
+
+"But unfortunately, Waller R. A. will buy the plum tree, confound him!
+Now, just after Mrs. de Tracy has definitely sold the premises and all
+their appurtenances, suppose you, in your prettiest and most docile
+way (docility not being your strong point!) ask your aunt if she has
+any objection to your taking care of Mrs. Prettyman during the few
+years remaining to her. Meantime keep her from irritating Mrs. de
+Tracy, and make the poor old dear happy with plans for her future. If
+you are short on docility you are long on making people happy!"
+
+"Never did I hear such an argument! It would make Macduff fall into
+the arms of Macbeth; it would tranquillize the Kilkenny cats
+themselves! I'll run in and apologize abjectly to my thrice guilty
+aunt, then I'll reward myself by going over to Wittisham."
+
+"If you'll take the ferry over, I'd like to come and fetch you if I
+may. That shall be my reward."
+
+"Reward for what?"
+
+"For giving you advice very much against my personal inclinations.
+Courses of action founded entirely on policy do not appeal to me very
+strongly."
+
+
+
+
+XX
+
+THE NEW HOME
+
+
+It was in rather a chastened spirit that Robinette set off to see Mrs.
+Prettyman. "I've been foolish, I've been imprudent; oh! dear me! I've
+still so much to learn!" she sighed to herself. "No good is ever done
+by losing one's temper; it only puts everything wrong. I shall have to
+try and take Mr. Lavendar's advice. I must be very prudent with Nurse
+this morning--never show her that I think Aunt de Tracy is in the
+wrong; just persuade her ever so gently to move to another home, and
+arrange with her where it is to be."
+
+It is always difficult for an impetuous nature like Robinette's to
+hold back about anything. She would have liked to run straight into
+Mrs. Prettyman's room, and, flinging her arms round the old woman's
+neck, cry out to her that everything was settled. And instead she
+must come to the point gently, prudently, wisely, "like other people"
+as she said to herself.
+
+The cottage seemed very still that afternoon, and Robinette knocked
+twice before she heard the piping old voice cry out to her to come
+in.
+
+"Why, Nurse dear, where are you? Were you asleep?" Robinette said as
+she entered, for Mrs. Prettyman was not sitting in the fine new chair.
+Then she found that the voice answered from the little bedroom off the
+kitchen, and that the old woman was in bed.
+
+"I ain't ill, so to speak, dear, just weary in me bones," she
+explained, as Robinette sat down beside her. "And Mrs. Darke, me
+neighbour, she sez to me, 'You do take the day in bed, Mrs. Prettyman,
+me dear, an' I'll do your bit of work for 'ee'--so 'ere I be, Missie,
+right enough."
+
+"I'm afraid you were worried yesterday," said Robinette; "worried
+about leaving the house."
+
+"I were, Missie, I were," she confessed.
+
+"That's why I came to-day; you must stop worrying, for I've settled
+all about it. I spoke to my aunt last night, and it's true that you
+have to leave this house; but now I've come to make arrangements with
+you about a new one."
+
+The old woman covered her face with her hands and gave a little cry
+that went straight to Robinette's heart.
+
+"Lor' now, Miss, 'ow am I ever to leave this place where I've been all
+these years? I thought yesterday as you said 'twas a mistake I'd
+made."
+
+"But alas, it wasn't altogether a mistake," Robinette had to confess
+sadly, her eyes filling with tears as she realized how she had only
+doubled her old friend's disappointment. Then she sat forward and took
+Mrs. Prettyman's hand in hers.
+
+"Nursie dear," she said, "I don't want you to grieve about leaving
+the old home, for it isn't an awfully good one; the new one is going
+to be ever so much better!"
+
+"That's so, I'm sure, dearie, only 'tis _new_," faltered Mrs.
+Prettyman. "If you're spared to my age, Missie, you'll find as new
+things scare you."
+
+"Ah, but not a new house, Nursie! Wait till I describe it! Everything
+strong and firm about it, not shaking in the storms as this one
+does; nice bright windows to let in all the sunshine; so no more
+'rheumatics' and no more tears of pain in your dear old eyes!"
+
+Robinette's voice failed suddenly, for it struck her all in a moment
+that her glowing description of the new home seemed to have in it
+something prophetic. That bent little figure beside her, these shaking
+limbs and dim old eyes,--all this house of life, once so carefully
+builded, was crumbling again into the dust, and its tenant indeed
+wanted a new one, quite, quite different! A sob rose in Robinette's
+throat, but she swallowed it down and went on gaily.
+
+"I've settled about another thing, too; you're to have another plum
+tree, or life wouldn't be the same thing to you. And you know they can
+transplant quite big trees now-a-days and make them grow wonderfully.
+Some one was telling me all about how it is done only a few days ago.
+They dig them up ever so carefully, and when they put them into the
+new hole, every tiny root is spread out and laid in the right
+direction in the ground, and patted and coaxed in, and made firm, and
+they just catch hold on the soil in the twinkle of an eye. Isn't it
+marvellous? Well, I'll have a fine new tree planted for you so
+cleverly that perhaps by next year you'll be having a few plums, who
+knows? And the next year more plums! And the next year, jam!"
+
+"'Twill be beautiful, sure enough," said the old woman, kindling at
+last under the description of all these joys. "And do you think,
+Missie, as the new cottage will really be curing of me rheumatics?"
+
+"Why yes, Nurse. Whoever heard of rheumatism in a dry new house?"
+
+"The house be new, but the rheumatics be old," said Mrs. Prettyman
+sagely.
+
+"Well, we can't make _you_ entirely new, but we'll do our best. I'm
+going to enquire about a nice cottage not very far from here; there's
+plenty of time before this one is sold. It shall be dry and warm and
+cosy, and you will feel another person in it altogether."
+
+"These new houses be terrible dear, bain't they?" the old woman said
+anxiously.
+
+"Not a bit; besides that's another matter I want to settle with you,
+Nursie. I'm going to pay the rent always, and you're going to have a
+nice little girl to help you with the work, and there will be
+something paid to you each month, so that you won't have any
+anxiety."
+
+"Oh, Missie, Missie, whatever be you sayin'? _Me_ never to have no
+anxiety again!"
+
+"You never shall, if I can help it; old people should never have
+worries; that's what young people are here for, to look after them and
+keep them happy."
+
+Mrs. Prettyman lay back on the pillow and gazed at Robinette
+incredulously; it wasn't possible that such a solution had come to all
+her troubles. For seventy odd years she had worked and struggled and
+sometimes very nearly starved and here was some one assuring her that
+these struggles were over forever, that she needn't work hard any
+more, or ever worry again. Could it be true? And all to come from Miss
+Cynthia's daughter!
+
+Robinette bent down and kissed the wrinkled old face softly.
+
+"Good-night, Nursie dear," she said. "I'm not going to stay any longer
+with you to-day, because you're tired. Have a good sleep, and waken up
+strong and bright."
+
+"Good-night, Missie, good-night, dear," the old woman said. Her face
+had taken on an expression of such peacefulness as it had never worn
+before.
+
+She turned over on her pillow and closed her eyes, scarcely waiting
+for Robinette to leave the room.
+
+"I've been allowed to do that, anyway," Robinette said to herself,
+standing in the doorway to look back at the quiet sleeper, and then
+looking forward to a little boat nearing the shore. The cottage
+sheltered almost the only object that connected her with her past; the
+boat, she felt, held all her future.
+
+                  *       *       *       *       *
+
+The river, when Lavendar rowed himself across it, was very quiet. "The
+swelling of Jordan," as Robinette called the rising tide, was over;
+now the glassy water reflected every leaf and twig from the trees that
+hung above its banks and dipped into it here and there.
+
+Mooring his boat at the landing, Mark sauntered up to Mrs. Prettyman's
+cottage, and having tapped lightly at the door to let Mrs. Loring
+know of his arrival, as they had agreed he should do, he went along
+the flagged pathway into the garden, and sat down on the edge of the
+low wall that divided it from the river. Just in front of him was the
+little worn bench where he had first seen Robinette as she sat beside
+her old nurse with the tiny shoe on her lap. It was scarcely a
+fortnight ago; yet it seemed to him that he could hardly remember the
+kind of man he had been that afternoon; a new self, full of a new
+purpose, and at that moment of a new hope, had taken the place of the
+objectless being he had been before.
+
+Everything was very still; there was scarcely a sound from the village
+or from the shipping farther down the river. Lavendar fancied he heard
+Robinette's clear voice within the cottage; then he started suddenly
+and the blood rushed to his heart as he listened to her light steps
+coming along the paved footpath.
+
+"Here you are!" she whispered. "Let us not speak too loud, for Nurse
+was just dropping asleep when I left her. I've put a table-cover and
+a blanket over 'Mrs. Mackenzie' to keep her from quacking. Mrs.
+Prettyman has not been very well, poor dear, and is in bed. We've just
+talked about the lovely new home she's going to have, and the
+transplanted plum tree; small, but warranted to bear in a year or two
+and give plums and jam like this one. I left her so happy!"
+
+She stopped and looked up. "Oh! can any new tree be as beautiful as
+this one? Was ever anything in the world more exquisite? It has
+just come to its hour of perfection, Mr. Lavendar; it couldn't
+last,--anything so lovely in a passing world."
+
+She sat down on the low wall, and looked up at the tree. It stood and
+shone there in its perfect hour. Another day, and the blossoms, too
+fully blown, would begin to drift upon the ground with every little
+shaking wind; now it was at its zenith, a miracle of such white beauty
+that it caused the heart to stop and consider. Bees and butterflies
+hummed and flew around it; it cast a delicate shadow on the grass, and
+leaning across the wall it was imaged again in the river like a bride
+in her looking-glass.
+
+Robinette sat gazing at the tree, and Lavendar sat gazing at her. At
+that moment he "feared his fate too much" to break the silence by any
+question that might shatter his hope, as the first breeze would break
+the picture that had taken shape in the glassy water beneath them.
+
+"I feel in a better temper now," said Robinette. "Who could be angry,
+and look at that beautiful thing? I've left dear old Nurse quite happy
+again, and I haven't yet offended Aunt de Tracy irrevocably, and all
+because you persuaded me not to be unreasonable. All the same I could
+do it again in another minute if I let myself go. Doesn't injustice
+ever make people angry in England?"
+
+Lavendar laughed. "It often makes me feel angry, but I've never found
+that throwing the reins on the horses' necks when they wanted to
+bolt, made one go along the right road any faster in the end."
+
+"I often think," said Robinette, "if we could see people really angry
+and disagreeable before we--" She hesitated and added, "get to know
+them well, we should be so much more careful."
+
+"Yes," said Mark, bending down his head and speaking very deliberately,
+"that's why I wish you could have seen me in all my worst moments.
+I'd stand the shame of it, if you could only know, but, alas, one
+can't show off one's worst moments to order; they must be hit upon
+unexpectedly."
+
+"I don't believe thirty years of life would teach one about some
+people--they are so _crevicey_," said Robinette musingly. She had
+risen and leaned against the plum tree for a moment, looking up
+through the white branches.
+
+Lavendar rose and stood beside her. "Thirty years--I shall be getting
+on to seventy in thirty years."
+
+A little gust of wind shook the tree; some petals came drifting down
+upon them, like white moths, like flakes of summer snow, a warning
+that the brief hour of perfection would soon be past ... and under it
+human creatures were talking about thirty years!
+
+
+
+
+XXI
+
+CARNABY CUTS THE KNOT
+
+
+That afternoon, Carnaby was having what he called "an absolutely
+mouldy time," and since his leave was running out and his remaining
+afternoons were few, he considered himself an injured individual.
+Robinette and Lavendar seemed for ever preoccupied either with each
+other or with some subject of discussion, the ins and outs of which
+they had not confided to him.
+
+"It's partly that blessed plum tree," he said to himself; "but of
+course they're spooning too. Very likely they're engaged by this time.
+Didn't I tell her she'd marry again? Well, if she must, it might as
+well be old Lavendar as anyone else. He's a decent chap, or he was,
+before he fell in love."
+
+Carnaby sighed. This effort of generosity towards his rival made him
+feel peculiarly disconsolate. He had fished and rowed on the river all
+the morning; he had ferreted; he had fed Rupert with a private
+preparation of rabbits which infallibly made him sick, the desired
+result being obtained with almost provoking celerity. Thus even
+success had palled, and Carnaby's sharp and idle wits had begun to
+work on the problem which seemed to be occupying his elders. Neither
+Robinette nor Lavendar could expatiate to the boy on his grandmother's
+peculiarities, but Carnaby had contrived to find out for himself how
+the land lay.
+
+"Why is Waller R. A. so keen on the plum tree?" he had enquired.
+
+"He wants to make a quartette of studies," answered Lavendar. "The
+Plum Tree in spring, summer, autumn, and winter."
+
+"What a rotten idea!" said Carnaby simply.
+
+"Far from rotten, my young friend, I can assure you!" Lavendar
+returned. "It will furnish coloured illustrations for countless
+summer numbers of the _Graphic_ and _The Lady's Pictorial_, and fill
+Waller R. A.'s pockets with gold, some of which will shortly filter in
+advance into the Stoke Revel banking account, we hope."
+
+"I'm not so sure about that!" said Carnaby; but he said it to himself,
+while aloud he only asked with much apparent innocence, "Waller R. A.
+wouldn't look at the cottage or the land without the plum tree, I
+suppose?"
+
+"Certainly not," Lavendar had answered. "The plum tree is safeguarded
+in the agreement as I'm sure no plum tree ever was before. Waller R.
+A.'s no fool!"
+
+Digesting this information and much else that he had gleaned, Carnaby
+now climbed to the top of a tree where he had a favourite perch, and
+did some serious and simple thinking.
+
+"It's a beastly shame," he said to himself, "to turn that old woman
+out of her cottage. Cousin Robin thinks it's a beastly shame, and
+what's more, Mark does, and he's a man, and a lawyer into the
+bargain."
+
+Carnaby thought remorsefully of a pot of jam which old Mrs. Prettyman
+had given him once to take back to college. What good jam it had
+been, and how large the pot! He had never given her anything--he had
+never a penny to bless himself with; and now his grandmother was
+taking away from the poor old creature all that she had. "It's
+regular covetousness," he thought, "and that infernal plum tree's at
+the bottom of it all. Naboth's vineyard is a joke in comparison, and
+What's-his-name and the one ewe lamb simply aren't in it." He grew
+hot with mortification. Then he reflected, "If the plum tree weren't
+there, Waller R. A. wouldn't want the cottage, and old Mrs. Prettyman
+could live in it till the end of the chapter." A slow grin dawned upon
+his face, its most mischievous expression, the one which Rupert with
+canine sagacity had learned to dread. He felt and pinched the
+muscle of his arm fondly. (_Mussle_ he always spelled the word
+himself, upon phonetic principles.)
+
+"I may be a fool and a minor" (generally spelt _miner_ by him), he
+said, as he climbed down from his perch, "but at least I can cut down
+a tree!"
+
+He became lost to view forthwith in the workshops and tool-sheds
+attached to the home premises of Stoke Revel, and presently emerged,
+furnished with the object he had made diligent and particular search
+for; this he proceeded to carry in an inconspicuous way to a distant
+cottage where he knew there was a grindstone. He spent a happy hour
+with the object, the grindstone, and a pail of water. _Whirr_,
+_whirr_, _whirr_, sang the grindstone, now softly, now loudly--"_this
+is an axe, an axe, an axe, and a strong arm that holds it_!"
+
+"You be goin' to do a bit of forestry on your own, Master Carnaby,
+eh?" suggested the grinning owner of the grindstone.
+
+"I am; a very particular bit, Jones!" replied the young master,
+lovingly feeling the edge of the tool, which was now nearly as fine as
+that of a razor.
+
+"You be careful, sir, as you don't chop off one of your own toes with
+that there axe," said the man. "It be full heavy for one o' your age.
+But there! you zailor-men be that handy! 'Tis your trade, so to
+speak!"
+
+"Quite right, Jones, it is!" replied Carnaby. "Good-afternoon and
+thank you for the use of the grindstone." He was already planning
+where he would hide the axe, for he had precise ideas about everything
+and left nothing to chance.
+
+Carnaby went to bed that night at his usual hour. His profession had
+already accustomed him to awaking at odd intervals, and he had more
+than the ordinary boy's knowledge of moon and tide, night and dawn.
+When he slipped out of bed after a few hours of sound sleep, he put on
+a flannel shirt and trousers and a broad belt, and then, carrying his
+boots in his hand, crept out of his room and through the sleeping
+house. He would much rather have climbed out of the window, in a
+manner more worthy of such an adventure, but his return in that
+fashion might offer dangers in daylight. So he was content with an
+unfrequented garden door which he could leave on the latch.
+
+The moon, which had been young when she lighted the lovers in the
+mud-bank adventure, was now a more experienced orb and shed a useful
+light. Carnaby intended to cross the river in a small tub which was
+propelled by a single oar worked at the stern, the rower standing.
+This craft was intended for pottering about the shore; to cross the
+river in it was the dangerous feat of a skilled waterman, but Carnaby
+had a knack of his own with every floating thing. As he balanced
+himself in the rocking tub, bare-headed, bare-necked, bare-armed,
+paddling with the grace and ease of strength and training, he looked
+a man, but a man young with the youth of the gods. The moon shone in
+his keen grey eyes and made them sparkle. A cold sea-wind blew up the
+river, but he did not feel its chill, for blood hot with adventure
+raced in his veins.
+
+Wittisham was in profound darkness when he landed, and the moon having
+gone behind a bank of cloud, he had to grope his way to Mrs.
+Prettyman's cottage, shouldering the axe. The isolated position of the
+house alone made the adventure possible, he reflected; he could not
+have cut down a tree in the hearing of neighbours, and as to old
+Elizabeth herself, he hoped she was deaf. Most old women were, he
+reflected, except unfortunately his grandmother!
+
+Soon he was entering the little garden and sniffing the scent of
+blossom, which was very strong in the night air. He could see the dim
+outline of the plum tree, and just as he wanted light, the moon came
+out and shone upon its whiteness, giving a sort of spiritual beauty
+to the flowering thing that was very exquisite.
+
+"What price, Waller R. A. now?" thought Carnaby impishly. "The plum
+tree in moonlight! eh? Wouldn't he give his eyes to see it! But he
+won't! Not if I know it!" The boy was as blind to the tree's beauty as
+his grandmother had been, but he had scientific ideas how to cut it
+down, for he had watched the felling of many a tree.
+
+First, standing on a lower branch, you lopped off all the side shoots
+as high as you could reach. This made the trunk easy to deal with, and
+its fall less heavy, and Carnaby set to work.
+
+"She goes through them all as slick as butter!" he said to himself in
+high satisfaction. The axe had assumed a personality to him and was
+"she," not "it." "She makes no more noise than a pair of scissors
+cutting flowers; not half so much!" he said proudly. Branch after
+branch fell down and lay about the tree like the discarded garments of
+a bathing nymph. The petals fell upon Carnaby's face, upon his hair
+and shoulders; he was a white figure as he toiled. Frightened birds
+and bats flew about, but he did not notice them. His only care was the
+cottage itself and its inmate. If _she_ should awake! But the little
+habitation, shrouded in thatch and deep in shadow, was dark and silent
+as the grave.
+
+"She must be sound asleep and deaf," thought the boy. "Yes, very
+deaf." He paused. The first stage in his task was accomplished.
+Shivering and naked, one absurd tuft of blossom and leaves at the
+tip--the murdered tree now stood in the moonlight, imploring the _coup
+de grâce_ which should end its shame.
+
+"Jolly well done," said the murderer complacently. He stretched his
+arms, looked at the palms of his hands to see if they had blistered,
+and addressed himself to the second part of his business. Thud! thud!
+went the axe on the trunk of the tree, and the sweat broke out all
+over Carnaby's skin, not with exertion but with nervous terror.
+
+"If that doesn't wake the dead!" he thought--but there was no awaking
+in the cottage. Its tiny window blinked in the moonlight, and Carnaby
+thought he heard the drowsy quack of a duck in an out-house. But the
+danger passed. Thud! went the axe again. The slim severed shaft of the
+tree was poised a moment, motionless, erect before it fell. Then it
+subsided gently among its broken and trodden boughs, and Carnaby's
+task was done.
+
+
+
+
+XXII
+
+CONSEQUENCES
+
+
+Early that morning before the sun had risen, when the light was still
+grey in the coming dawn, Robinette was awakened by a bird that called
+out from a tree close to her open window, every note like the striking
+of a golden bell. She jumped up and looked out, but the little singer,
+silenced, had flown away. Instead, she caught sight of a figure
+stealing across the lawn towards the side door which opened from the
+library. Even in the dim light she could distinguish that it was
+Carnaby, Carnaby with something in his hand. What he carried she could
+not quite make out, but the sleeves of his flannel shirt were rolled
+up above his elbows in a fatally business-like way, and he walked with
+an air of stealth.
+
+"What mischief can that boy have been up to at this time of day?"
+thought Robinette as she lay down again, but she was too sleepy to
+wonder long.
+
+She forgot all about it until she saw Carnaby at the breakfast table
+some hours later. Sometimes the gloom of that meal--never a favorite
+or convivial one in the English household, and most certainly neither
+at Stoke Revel--would be enlivened by some of the boy's pranks. He
+would pass over to the sideboard, pepper-pot slyly in hand, and
+Rupert, whose meal at this hour consisted of grape-nuts and cream,
+would unaccountably sneeze and snuffle over his plate.
+
+"Bless it, Bobs!" his tormentor would exclaim tenderly. "Is it
+catching cold? Poor old Kitchener! Hi! _Kitch!_ _Kitch!_" (like a
+violent sneeze) and the outraged Rupert would forget grape-nuts and
+pepper alike in a fit of impotent fury. But this morning the dog fed
+in peace and Carnaby never glanced at him or his basin. Robinette,
+looking at the boy and remembering where she had seen him last,
+noticed that he was rather silent, that his cheeks were redder than
+common, and that under his eyes were lines of fatigue not usually
+there.
+
+"What were you doing on the lawn at four o'clock this morning?" she
+began, but checked herself, suddenly thinking that if Carnaby had been
+up to mischief she must not allude to it before his grandmother.
+
+No one had heard her. The meal dragged on. Robinette and Lavendar
+talked little. Miss Smeardon was preoccupied with the sufferings and
+the moods of Rupert. Mrs. de Tracy alone seemed in better spirits than
+usual; she was talkative and even balmy.
+
+"The work at the spinney begins to-day," she observed complacently,
+addressing herself to Lavendar and alluding to the rooting up of an
+old copse and the planting of a new one--an improvement she had long
+planned, though hitherto in vain. "The young trees have arrived."
+
+"But where is the money to come from?" enquired Carnaby suddenly, in
+a sepulchral tone. (His voice was at the disagreeable breaking stage,
+an agony and a shame to himself and always a surprise to others.) His
+grandmother stared: the others, too, looked in astonishment at the
+boy's red face.
+
+"I thought it had all been explained to you, Carnaby," said Mrs. de
+Tracy, "but you take so little interest in the estate that I suppose
+what you have been told went in at one ear and out at the other, as
+usual! It is the sale of land at Wittisham which makes these
+improvements possible, advantages drawn from a painful necessity," and
+the iron woman almost sighed.
+
+"There won't be any sale of land at Wittisham,--at least, not of Mrs.
+Prettyman's cottage," said Carnaby abruptly.
+
+"It is practically settled. The transfers only remain to be signed;
+you know that, Carnaby," said Lavendar curtly. He did not wish the
+vexed question to be raised again at a meal.
+
+"It _was_ practically settled--but it's all off now," said the boy,
+looking hard at his grandmother. "Waller R. A. won't want the place
+any more. The bloomin' plum tree's gone--cut down. The bargain's off,
+and old Mrs. Prettyman can stay on in her cottage as long as she
+likes!"
+
+There was a freezing silence, broken only by the stertorous breathing
+of Rupert on Miss Smeardon's lap.
+
+"Repeat, please, what you have just said, Carnaby," said his
+grandmother with dangerous calmness, "and speak distinctly."
+
+"I said that the cottage at Wittisham won't be sold because the plum
+tree's gone," repeated Carnaby doggedly. "It's been cut down."
+
+"How do you know?"
+
+"I've seen it." Carnaby raised his eyes. "I cut it down myself," he
+added, "this morning before daylight."
+
+"Who put such a thing into your head?" Mrs. de Tracy's words were ice:
+her glance of suspicion at Robinette, like the cold thrust of steel.
+"Who told you to cut the plum tree down?"
+
+"My conscience!" was Carnaby's unexpected reply. He was as red as
+fire, but his glance did not falter. Mrs. de Tracy rose. Not a muscle
+of her face had moved.
+
+"Whatever your action has been, Carnaby," she said with dignity--"whether
+foolish and disgraceful, or criminal and dangerous, it cannot be
+discussed here. You will follow me at once to the library, and
+presently I may send for Mark. A lawyer's advice will probably be
+necessary," she added grimly.
+
+Carnaby said not a word. He opened the door for his grandmother and
+followed her out; but as he passed Robinette, he looked at her
+earnestly, half expecting her applause; for one of the motives in his
+boyish mind had certainly been to please her--to shine in her eyes as
+the doer of bold deeds and to avenge her nurse's wrongs. And all that
+he had managed was to make her cry!
+
+For Robinette had put her elbows on the table and had covered her eyes
+with her hands. As he left the room, Carnaby could hear her
+exclamation:--
+
+"To cut down that tree! That beautiful, beautiful, fruitful thing! O!
+how could anyone do it?"
+
+So this was justice; this was all he got for his pains! How
+unaccountable women were!
+
+Lavendar awaited some time his summons to join Mrs. de Tracy and her
+grandson in what seemed to him must be a portentous interview enough,
+trying meanwhile somewhat unsuccessfully to console Mrs. Loring for
+the destruction of the plum tree, and exchanging with her somewhat
+awe-struck comments on the scene they had both just witnessed. No
+summons came, however; but half an hour later, he came across Carnaby
+alone, and an interview promptly ensued. He wanted to plumb the depth
+of the boy-mind and to learn exactly what motives had prompted
+Carnaby to this sudden and startling action in the matter of the plum
+tree.
+
+"Had you a bad quarter of an hour with your grandmother?" was his
+first question. Carnaby, he thought, looked subdued, and not much
+wonder.
+
+The boy hesitated.
+
+"Not so bad as I expected," was his answer. "The old lady was
+wonderfully decent, for her. She gave me a talking to, of course."
+
+"I should hope so!" interpolated Lavendar drily.
+
+"She jawed away about our poverty," continued Carnaby. "She's got
+that on the brain, as you know. She said that this loss of the
+money--Waller R. A.'s money, she means, of course--is an awful blow.
+She _said_ it was, but it seemed to me--" Carnaby paused, looking
+extremely puzzled.
+
+"It seemed to you--?" prompted Lavendar encouragingly.
+
+"That she wasn't so awfully cut up, after all," said Carnaby. "She
+seemed putting it on, if you know what I mean." Lavendar pricked up
+his ears. Mrs. de Tracy's intense reluctance to sell the land recurred
+to him in a flash. To get her consent had been like drawing a tooth,
+like taking her life-blood drop by drop. Could it be that she was not
+very sorry after all that the scheme had fallen through, secretly
+glad, indeed? It was conceivable that this was Mrs. de Tracy's view,
+but her grandson's motive was still obscure.
+
+"Why did you do it, Carnaby?" Lavendar asked with kindness and gravity
+both in his voice. "You have committed a very mischievous action, you
+know, one that would have borne a harsher name had the transfers been
+signed and had the plum tree changed hands."
+
+"But then I shouldn't have done it--you--you juggins, Mark!" cried the
+boy. "I've no earthly grudge against Waller R. A. If he'd actually
+bought the tree, it would have been too late, and his beastly
+money--"
+
+"You need the money, you know," remarked Lavendar. "Remember that, my
+young friend!"
+
+"It would have been dirty money!" said Carnaby, with a sudden
+flash that lit up his rather heavy face with a new expression.
+"You and Cousin Robin have been jolly polite when you thought I was
+listening, but _I_ know what you really thought, and the kind of
+things you were saying to one another about this business! You
+thought it beastly mean to take the cottage away from old Lizzie
+in the way it was being done, and sheer robbery to deprive her of
+the plum tree without paying her for it. I quite agreed with you
+there, and if I felt like that, do you think I could sit still and
+let the money come in to Stoke Revel--money that had been got in
+such a way? What do you take me for?" Lavendar was silent, looking
+at the boy in surprise. "Oh," continued Carnaby, "how I wish I were
+of age! Then I could show Cousin Robin, perhaps, what an English
+landlord can be! I mean that he can be a friend to his tenants, and
+kind and generous as well as just. As it is, Cousin Robin will go
+back to America and tell her friends what selfish brutes we are
+over here, and how jolly glad she was to get away!"
+
+"Mrs. Loring will carry no tales, I am sure," said Lavendar. "But tell
+me, my dear fellow, did you imagine that Mrs. Prettyman would be a
+gainer by your action?"
+
+"Well, why not?" answered the boy. "Didn't you tell me yourself that
+Waller R. A. wouldn't look at the cottage without the tree? What's to
+prevent the old woman living on where she is? Do you think there'll be
+a rush of new tenants for that precious old hovel? Go on! You know
+better than that!"
+
+"But the tree, Carnaby, the plum tree!" cried Lavendar. "My young
+Goth, hadn't you a moment's compunction? That beautiful, flowering
+thing, as your cousin called it; could you destroy it without a
+pang?"
+
+"The _tree_?" echoed Carnaby with unmeasured scorn. "What's a tree?
+It's just a tree, isn't it?"
+
+                    "A primrose by a river's brim
+                    A yellow primrose was to him,
+                    And it was nothing more!"
+
+quoted Mark, despairingly.
+
+"Well; and what more did he expect of a primrose, whoever the Johnny
+was?" asked the contemptuous Carnaby.
+
+"At any rate," commented Lavendar, "it isn't necessary to search as
+far as Peter Bell for an analogy for your character, my young friend!
+You are your grandmother's grandson after all!"
+
+"In some ways I suppose I can't help being," answered Carnaby soberly,
+"but not in all," he added, and suddenly turning red he fumbled in his
+pocket and produced a coin which he held out to Lavendar. "It's only
+ten bob," he said apologetically, "and I wish it was a jolly sight
+more! But please give it to old Mrs. Prettyman to make up a bit for
+the loss of her plums. Daresay I'll manage some more by and by.
+Anyway, I'll make it up to her when I come of age.--I'm nearly sixteen
+already, you know. Be sure you tell her that!"
+
+But Lavendar refused to take the money.
+
+"Mrs. Prettyman is provided for, my boy," he said. "She has become
+your cousin's especial care. You need have no fear about that. The
+poor old woman is very happy and will have a cottage more suited for
+her rheumatism and her general feebleness than the present one. But I
+think your cousin will understand your motives and believe that you
+meant well by old Lizzie in your little piece of midnight madness."
+
+"Though I was a bit rough on the plum tree!" said Carnaby, with a
+broad smile.
+
+"You think it's a laughing matter?" Lavendar asked indignantly. "I
+wish you had my father to deal with, and Waller R. A.! It's all very
+well for you."
+
+But Carnaby only laughed. The blood was still hot in his veins, and
+the joy of his night's adventure. Mark told him that he and Mrs.
+Loring were crossing the river at once to see for themselves the
+extent of his mischief and what effect it had had upon old Mrs.
+Prettyman. Carnaby observed with diabolical meaning that as he had not
+been invited to join the party, he would make himself scarce.
+Gooseberries, he said, were very good fruit, but he wasn't fond of
+them; so he lounged off with his hands in his pockets. Suddenly he
+turned. "See here, old Mark! You'll speak a word for me with Cousin
+Robin, won't you? It's hard on me to have her hate me when I was
+trying to do my best to please her."
+
+"She won't hate you; she couldn't hate anybody," said Lavendar
+absently, watching first the door and then the window.
+
+"You say that because you're in love with her! I've a couple of eyes
+in my head, stupid as you all think me. You can deny it all you like,
+but you won't convince me!"
+
+"I shan't deny it, Carnaby. I am so much in love with her at this
+moment that the room is whirling round and round and I can see two of
+you!"
+
+"Poor old Mark! Do you think she'll take you on?"
+
+"Can't say, Carnaby!"
+
+"You're a lucky beggar if she does; that's my opinion!" said the boy.
+
+"Put it as strong as you like, Carnaby," Lavendar answered. "You can't
+exaggerate my feelings on that subject!"
+
+"If you hadn't fifteen years' start of me I'd give you a run for your
+money!" exclaimed Carnaby with a daring look.
+
+
+
+
+XXIII
+
+DEATH AND LIFE
+
+
+While these incidents were taking place at the Manor House, village
+life at Wittisham had been stirring for hours. Thin blue threads of
+smoke were rising from the other cottages into the windless air: only
+from Nurse Prettyman's there was none. Duckie in the out-house quacked
+and gabbled as she had quacked and gabbled since the light began, yet
+no one came to let her out and feed her. The halfpenny jug of milk had
+been placed on the doorstep long ago, but Mrs. Prettyman had not yet
+opened the door to take it in.
+
+Outside in the garden, where the plum tree stood yesterday, there was
+now only a stump, hacked and denuded, and round about it a ruin of
+broken branches, leaves, and scattered blossoms. Over the wreck the
+bees were busy still, taking what they could of the honey that
+remained; and in the air was the strong odour of juicy green wood and
+torn bark.
+
+The children who brought the milk were the first to discover what had
+happened, and very soon the news spread amongst the other cottagers.
+Then came two neighbours to the scene, wondering and exclaiming. They
+went to the door, but Mrs. Prettyman did not answer their knock or
+their calling. Mrs. Darke looked in through the tiny window.
+
+"She be sleepin' that peaceful in 'er bed in there," she said, "it 'ud
+be a shame to wake 'er. She's deaf now, and belike she never 'eard the
+tree come down, 'ooever's done it. But I'll go and see after Duckie:
+she's makin' noise enough to rouse 'er, anyway."
+
+Then Duckie was released and fed and departed to gabble her wrongs to
+the other white ducks that were preening themselves amongst the deep
+green grass of the adjacent orchard.
+
+"You can 'ear that bird a mile away--she's never done talking!" said
+Mrs. Darke as the indignant gabble grew fainter in the distance. "But
+'ere's my old man a-come to look at the plum tree. Wonder what he'll
+say to it? This be a queer job, sure enough!"
+
+Old Darke, on two sticks, hobbled towards the scene of desolation with
+grunts of mingled satisfaction and dismay. 'Twas a rare sensation,
+though a pity, to be sure!
+
+Mrs. Darke stood by the well at the turn of the road, keeping a sharp
+eye on the cottage while she gossiped with the neighbour who was
+filling her pitcher. She did not want to miss the sight of Mrs.
+Prettyman's face when she opened her door and found out what had
+happened.
+
+"She be sleepin' too long; I'll go and waken her in a minute," said
+Mrs. Darke. "'Tis but right she should be told what's come to 'er
+tree, poor thing."
+
+Then a beggar woman selling bootlaces came along the shore of the
+river; she mounted the cottage steps and the gossips watched her
+trailing up the pathway in her loose old shoes, and knocking at the
+door. She waited for a few minutes: there was no answer, so she turned
+away resignedly and trailed off along the sun-lit lane, in-shore,
+leaving the garden gate swinging to and fro.
+
+"There's summat the matter!" Mrs. Darke had just whispered with
+evident enjoyment, when some one else was seen approaching the cottage
+from the direction of the pier. It was the young lady from the Manor,
+this time. She wore a white dress and a green scarf, and her face was
+tinted with colour. She looked like a young blossoming tree herself,
+all lacy white and pale green, a strange morning vision in a
+work-a-day world! Robinette ran quickly up the pathway and knocked at
+the door, but there was no answer to her knock. She called out in her
+clear voice:--
+
+"Good morning, Nurse! Good morning! Aren't you ready to let me in?
+It's quite late!" But there was no answer to her call. She was just
+trying to open the door, which seemed to be locked, when a gentleman
+came up from the boat and followed her to the cottage. That, the women
+who were watching her thought quite natural, for surely such a young
+lady would be followed by a lover wherever she went! Indeed, Mrs.
+Darke said so.
+
+"'Tis in that there kind," she observed philosophically, "like the
+cuckoo and the bird that follows; never sees one wi'out the other!"
+
+"'Tis quite that way, Mrs. Darke," agreed the neighbour, approvingly.
+
+Robinette turned a white face to Lavendar as he approached.
+
+"Nurse won't answer, and I can't get in!" she cried. "Something must
+have happened. I--I'm afraid to go in alone. The door is locked,
+too."
+
+"It's not locked," said Lavendar, and exerting a little strength, he
+pushed it open and gave a quick glance inside. "I'll go in first," he
+said gently. "Wait here."
+
+He came again to the threshold in a few minutes, a peculiar expression
+on his face which somehow seemed to tell Robinette what had happened.
+
+"Come in, Mrs. Robin," he said very gravely and gently. "You need not
+be afraid."
+
+Robinette instinctively held out her hand to him and they entered the
+little room together.
+
+She need not have feared for the old woman's distress over the ruined
+plum tree, for nothing would ever grieve Nurse Prettyman again. Just
+as she had lain down the night before, she lay upon her bed now,
+having passed away in her sleep. "And they that encounter Death in
+sleep," says the old writer, "go forth to meet him with desire." The
+aged face was turned slightly upwards and wore a look of contentment
+and repose that made life seem almost gaudy; a cheap thing to compare
+with this attainment....
+
+Robinette came out of the cottage a little later, leaving the
+neighbours who had gathered in the room to their familiar and not
+uncongenial duties. She went into the garden, where Mark Lavendar
+awaited her. He longed to try to comfort her; indeed, his whole heart
+ran out to her in a warmth and passion that astounded him; but her
+pale face, stained with weeping, warned him to keep silence yet a
+little while.
+
+"I just came for one branch of the blossom," Robinette said, "if it is
+not all withered. Yes, this is quite fresh still." She took a little
+spray he had found for her and stood holding it as she spoke. "Only
+yesterday it was all so lovely! Oh! Mr. Lavendar, I needn't cry for my
+old Nurse, I'm sure! How should I, after seeing her face? She had come
+to the end of her long life, and she was very tired, and now all that
+is forgotten, and she will never have a moment of vexation about her
+tree. I don't know why I should cry for her; but oh, how could
+Carnaby destroy that beautiful thing!"
+
+"It was a genuine though mistaken act of conscience! You must not be
+too hard on Carnaby!" pleaded Lavendar. "He would not touch the money
+that was to come from the sale of Mrs. Prettyman's cottage under the
+circumstances, so it seemed best to him that the sale should not take
+place, and he prevented it in the directest and simplest way that
+occurred to him. It's like some of the things that men have done to
+please God, Mrs. Robin," Mark added, smiling, "and thought they were
+doing it, too! But Carnaby only wanted to please you!"
+
+"To _please_ me!" exclaimed Robinette, looking round her at the ruin
+before them. "Oh dear!" she sighed, "how confusing the world is, at
+times! I am just going to take this snowy branch and lay it on Nurse's
+pillow. She so loved her tree! See; it's quite fresh and beautiful,
+and the dew still upon it, just like tears!"
+
+"That seemed just right," said Robinette softly as she came out into
+the sunshine again, a few minutes later. "I laid the blossoms in her
+kind old tired hands, the hands that have known so much work and so
+many pains. It is over, and after all, her new home is better than any
+I could have found for her!"
+
+The two walked slowly down the little garden on their way to the gate.
+As they passed, old Mr. Darke, who had hobbled around again to have
+another look at the fallen tree, addressed Lavendar solemnly.
+
+"Best tree in Wittisham 'e was, sir," touching the ruin of the
+branches as he spoke. "'Ooever could ha' thought o' sich a piece of
+wickedness as to cut 'im down? Murder, I calls it! 'Tis well as Mrs.
+Prettyman be gone to 'er rest wi'out knowledge of it; 'twould 'ave
+broken her old 'eart, for certain sure!"
+
+"It nearly breaks mine to see it now, Mr. Darke!" said Robinette in a
+trembling voice. But the old labourer bent down, moving his creaking
+joints with difficulty and steadying himself upon his sticks till he
+could touch the stump of the tree with his rough but skilful hands. He
+pushed away the long grass that grew about the roots and looked up at
+Robinette with a wise old smile.
+
+"'Tisn't dead and done for yet, Missy, never fear!" he said. "Give 'im
+time; give 'im time! 'E's cut above the graft--see! 'E'll grow and
+shoot and bear blossom and fruit same as ever 'e did, given time. See
+to the fine stock of 'im; firm as a rock in the good ground! And the
+roots, they be sound and fresh. 'E'll grow again, Missy; never you
+cry!"
+
+Robinette looked so beautiful as she lifted her luminous eyes and
+parted lips to old Darke, and then turned to him with a gesture of
+hope and joy, that again Lavendar could hardly keep from avowing his
+love; but the remembrance of the old nurse's still shape in the little
+cottage hushed the words that trembled on his lips.
+
+
+
+
+XXIV
+
+GRANDMOTHER AND GRANDSON
+
+
+The disagreeable duty of announcing Mrs. Prettyman's death to the lady
+of the Manor now lay before Lavendar and his companion, and the
+thought of it weighed upon their spirits as they crossed the river.
+Carnaby also must be told. How would he take it? Robinette, still
+under the shock of the plum tree's undoing, expected perhaps some
+further exhibition of youthful callousness, but Lavendar knew better.
+
+In their concern and sorrow, the young couple had forgotten all minor
+matters such as meals, and luncheon had long been over when they
+reached the house. They could see Mrs. de Tracy's figure in the
+drawing room as they passed the windows, occupying exactly her usual
+seat in her usual attitude. It was her hour for reading and
+disapproving of the daily paper.
+
+Robinette and Lavendar entered quietly, but nothing in the gravity of
+their faces struck Mrs. de Tracy as strange.
+
+"I have a disturbing piece of news to give you," Mark began, clearing
+his throat. "Mrs. Prettyman died last night in her cottage at
+Wittisham."
+
+The erect figure in the widow's weeds remained motionless. Perhaps the
+old hand that lowered the newspaper trembled somewhat, so that its
+diamonds quivered a little more than usual.
+
+"So Mrs. Prettyman is dead?" she said. Then, as the young people stood
+looking at her with an air of some expectancy, she added with a sour
+glance, "Do you expect me to be very much agitated by the news?"
+
+"The death was unexpected," began Lavendar lamely.
+
+"She was seventy-five; my age!" said Mrs. de Tracy with a wintry
+smile. "Is death at seventy-five so unexpected an event?"
+
+Lavendar said nothing; he had nothing to say, and Robinette for
+the same reason was silent. She was gazing at her aunt, almost
+unconsciously, with a wondering look. "At any rate," continued Mrs.
+de Tracy, addressing her niece, "your _protégée_ has been fortunate
+in two ways, Robinette. She will neither be turned out of her
+cottage nor see the destruction of her plum tree. By the way--"
+with a perfectly natural change of tone, dismissing at once both
+Mrs. Prettyman and Death--"the plum tree _is_ down, I suppose? You
+saw it?"
+
+"Very much down!" answered Lavendar. "And certainly we saw it! Carnaby
+does nothing by halves!"
+
+A slight change, a kind of shade of softening, passed over Mrs. de
+Tracy's stern features, as the shadow of a summer cloud may pass over
+a rocky hill. She turned suddenly to Robinette. "Can you tell me on
+your word of honour that you had nothing to do with Carnaby's action;
+that you did not put it into his head to cut the plum tree down!"
+
+"I?" exclaimed Robinette, scarlet with indignation. "_I?_ Why--do you
+want to know what I think of the action? I think it was perfectly
+brutal, and the boy who did it next door to a criminal! There!"
+
+Mrs. de Tracy seemed convinced by the energy of this disclaimer. "I
+have always considered yours a very candid character," she observed
+with condescension. "I believe you when you say that you did not
+influence Carnaby in the matter, though I strongly suspected you
+before."
+
+"Well, upon my word!" ejaculated Robinette when they had got out of
+the room, too completely baffled to be more original. "What does she
+mean? Has any one ever understood the workings of Aunt de Tracy's
+mind?"
+
+"Don't come to me for any more explanations! I've done my best for my
+client!" cried Lavendar. "I give up my brief! I always told you Mrs.
+de Tracy's character was entirely singular."
+
+"Let us hope so!" commented Robinette with energy. "I should be sorry
+for the world if it were plural!"
+
+                  *       *       *       *       *
+
+Carnaby was not in the house, and Lavendar proceeded to look for him
+out of doors. He knew the boy was often to be found in a high part of
+the grounds behind the garden, where he had some special resort of his
+own, and he went there first. The afternoon had clouded over, and a
+slight shower was falling, as Mark followed the wooded path leading up
+hill. A rock-garden bordered it, where ferns and flowers were growing,
+each one of which seemed to be contributing some special and delicate
+fragrance to the damp, warm air. The beech trees here had low and
+spreading branches which framed now and again exquisite glimpses of
+the river far below and the wooded hills beyond it.
+
+Lavendar had not gone far when he found Carnaby, Carnaby intensely
+perturbed, walking up and down by himself.
+
+"You don't need to tell me!" said the boy, with a quick and agitated
+gesture of the hand. "Bates told me. Old Mrs. Prettyman's dead!" His
+merry, square-set face was changed and looked actually haggard, and
+his eyes searched Lavendar's with an expression oddly different from
+their usual fearless and straightforward one. They seemed afraid. "Was
+it my grandmother's--was it our fault?" he asked. "I, I feel like a
+murderer. Upon my soul, I do!"
+
+"Don't encourage morbid ideas, my dear fellow!" said Lavendar in a
+matter-of-fact tone. "There's trouble enough in the world without
+foolish exaggeration. Mrs. Prettyman was 'grave-ripe,' as she often
+said to your cousin; a very feeble old woman, whose time had come. The
+doctor's certificate will tell you how rheumatism had affected her
+heart, and the neighbours would very soon set your mind at rest by
+describing the number of times poor old Lizzie had nearly died
+before."
+
+"Think of it, though!" said Carnaby with wondering eyes. "Think of her
+lying dead in the cottage while I hacked and hewed at the plum tree
+just outside! By Jove! it makes a fellow feel queer!" He shuddered.
+The picture he evoked was certainly a strange one enough: a strange
+picture in the moonlight of a night in spring; the doomed beauty of
+the blossoming tree, the blind, headstrong human energy working for
+its destruction, and Death over all, stealthy and strong!
+
+"What an ass I was!" said Carnaby, summing up the situation in the
+only language in which he could express himself. "Sweating and stewing
+and hacking away--thinking myself so awfully clever! And all the time
+things ... things were being arranged in quite a different manner!"
+
+"We are often made to feel our insignificance in ways like this,"
+said Lavendar. "We are very small atoms, Carnaby, in the path of the
+great forces that sweep us on."
+
+"I should rather think so!" assented the wondering boy. "And yet, can
+a fellow sit tight all the time and just wait till things happen?"
+
+"Ask me something else!" suggested Lavendar ironically.
+
+There was a short pause. "I'm awfully sorry old Mrs. Prettyman's
+dead," Carnaby said in a very subdued tone. "I meant to do a lot for
+her, to try and make up for my grandmother's being such a beast." He
+stopped short, and to Lavendar's astonishment, his face worked, and
+two tears squeezed themselves out of his eyes and rolled over his
+round cheeks as they might have done over a baby's. "It's the j-jam I
+was thinking of," he sniffed. "Once a pal of mine and I were playing
+the fool in old Mrs. Prettyman's garden, pretending to steal the
+plums, and giving her duck bits of bread steeped in beer to make it
+s-squiffy (a duck can be just as drunk as a chap). She didn't mind a
+bit. She was a regular old brick, and gave us a jolly good tea and a
+pot of jam to take away.... And now she's dead and--and...." Carnaby's
+feelings became too much for him again, and a handkerchief that had
+seen better and much cleaner days came into play. Lavendar flung an
+arm round the boy's shoulder.
+
+"This kind of regret comes to us all, Carnaby," he said. "I don't
+suppose there's a man with a heart in his breast who hasn't sometime
+had to say to himself, I might have done better: I might have been
+kinder: it's too late now! But it's never too late!" added Lavendar
+under his breath--"not where Love is!"
+
+The shower was over, and though the sun had not come out, a pleasant
+light lay upon the river as the friends walked down; upon the river
+beyond which old Lizzie Prettyman was sleeping so peacefully, the
+sleep of kings and beggars, and just and unjust, and rich and poor
+alike. Carnaby had dried his eyes but continued in a pensive mood.
+
+"Cousin Robin's still angry with me about the tree," he said,
+uncertainly.
+
+"She won't be angry long!" Lavendar assured him. "You and your Cousin
+Robin are going to be firm friends, friends for life."
+
+Carnaby seemed a good deal comforted. "Mind you don't tell her I
+blubbered!" he said in sudden alarm. "Swear!"
+
+"She wouldn't think a bit the worse of you for that!" said Lavendar.
+
+"Swear, though!" repeated Carnaby in deadly earnest.
+
+And Lavendar swore, of course.
+
+                  *       *       *       *       *
+
+But an influence very unlike Lavendar's and a spirit very different
+from Robinette's enfolded Carnaby de Tracy in his home and fought, as
+it were, for his soul. That night, after the last lamp had been put
+out by the careful Bates, and after Benson had bade a respectful
+good-night to her mistress, a light still burned in Mrs. de Tracy's
+room. Presently, carried in her hand, it flitted out along the silent
+passages, past rows of doors which were closed upon empty rooms or
+upon unconscious sleepers, till it came to Carnaby's door; to the
+Boys' Room, as that far-away and most unluxurious apartment had always
+been called. Mrs. de Tracy was making a pilgrimage to the shrine of
+one of her gods. She opened the door, and closing it gently behind
+her, she stood beside Carnaby's bed and looked at him, intently and
+haggardly.
+
+Mrs. de Tracy's was a singular character, as Mark Lavendar had said.
+The circumstances of her widowhood with its heavy responsibilities had
+perhaps hardly been fair to her. There had been little room for the
+kindlier and softer feelings, though it is to be feared that they
+would not have found much congenial soil in her heart. The personal
+selfishness in her had long been merged in the greater and harder
+selfishness of caste; she had become a mere machine for the keeping up
+of Stoke Revel.
+
+But to-night she was moved by the positively human sentiment which had
+been stirred in her by Carnaby's startling act of cutting the plum
+tree down. Ah! let fools believe if they could that she was angry with
+the boy! She had never felt anger less or pride more. While others
+talked and argued, shilly-shallied, made love, muddled and made
+mistakes, her grandson, the man of the race that always ruled, had cut
+the knot for himself, without hesitation and without compunction,
+without consulting anyone or asking anyone's leave. That was the way
+the de Tracys had always acted. And it seemed to Mrs. de Tracy a
+crowning coincidence, a fitting kind of poetical justice, that
+Carnaby's action should actually have prevented the sale of the land;
+that dreaded, detestable sale of the first land that the de Tracys
+had held upon the banks of the river.
+
+So, since Carnaby was to be a man of the right kind, his grandmother
+had come to look at him, not in love, as other women come to such
+bedsides, but in pride of heart. The boy, after his "white night" at
+Wittisham and the varied emotions of the succeeding day, lay on his
+side, in the deep, recuperative sleep of youth whence its energies are
+drawn and in which its vigors are renewed. His round cheek indented
+the pillow, his rumpled hair stirred in the breeze that blew in at the
+window, his arm and his open hand, relaxed, lay along the sheet.
+Another woman would have straightened the bed-clothes above him;
+another might have touched his hair or hand; another kissed his cheek.
+But not even because he was like her departed husband, like the man
+who five and fifty years before had courted a certain cold and proud,
+handsome and penniless Miss Augusta Gallup, would Mrs. de Tracy do
+these things. She had had her sensation, such as it was, her secret
+moment of emotion, and was satisfied. She left the room as she had
+come, the candle casting exaggerated shadows of herself upon the walls
+where Carnaby's bats and fishing rods and sporting prints hung.
+
+It is sad to be old as Mrs. de Tracy was old, but her age was of her
+own making, a shrinkage of the heart, a drying up of the wells of
+feeling that need not have been.
+
+"I should be better out of the way," her bitterness said within her,
+and alas! it was true. Her great, gaunt room seemed very lonely, very
+full of shadows when she returned to it. Rupert, who always slept at
+her bedside, awaited her. Disturbed at this unwonted hour, he stirred
+in his basket, wheezed and gurgled, turned round and round and could
+not get comfortable, whined, and looked up in his mistress's face. She
+stood watching him with a sort of grim pity, and, strangely enough,
+bestowed upon him the caress she had not found for her grandson.
+
+"Poor Rupert! You are getting too old, like your mistress! Your
+departure, like hers, will be a sorrow to no one!" Rupert seemed to
+wheeze an asthmatical consent, and presently he snuggled down in his
+basket and went to sleep.
+
+
+
+
+XXV
+
+THE BELLS OF STOKE REVEL
+
+
+On Sunday morning Robinette and Lavendar were both ready for church,
+by some strange coincidence, half an hour too soon. He was standing at
+the door as she came down into the hall. Mrs. de Tracy and Miss
+Smeardon were nowhere to be seen; even Carnaby was invisible, but the
+shrill, infuriated yelping of the Prince Charles from the drawing room
+indicated his whereabouts only too plainly.
+
+"We're much too early," said Robinette, glancing at the clock.
+
+"Shall we walk through the buttercup meadow, then--you and I?" asked
+Lavendar. His voice was low, and Robinette answered very softly. She
+wore a white dress that morning without a touch of colour.
+
+"I couldn't wear black to-day for Nurse," she said, in answer to his
+glance, "but I couldn't wear any colour, either."
+
+"You're as white as the plum tree was!" said Lavendar. "I remember
+thinking that it looked like a bride." Robinette made no reply. He
+ventured to look up at her as he spoke, and she was smiling although
+her lip quivered and her eyes were full of tears. Lavendar's heart
+beat uncomfortably fast as they walked through the meadow towards the
+stile which led into the churchyard.
+
+"It's too soon to go in yet," he said. "The bells haven't begun."
+
+"Let's stop here. It's cool in the shadow," said Robinette. She leaned
+on the wall and looked out at the shining reaches of the river. "The
+swelling of Jordan is over now," she said with a little smile and a
+sigh. "The tide has come up, and how quiet everything is!"
+
+The water mirrored the hills and the ships and the gracious sky above
+them. There was scarcely a sound in the air. At the point where they
+stood, the Manor House was hidden from view, and only the squat old
+tower of the church was visible, and the yew tree rising above the
+wall against the golden field. A bush of briar covered with white
+roses hung above them, just behind Robinette, and Lavendar looking at
+her in this English setting on an English Sunday morning, wondered to
+himself, as he had so often done before, if she could ever make this
+country her home.
+
+"Yet she has English blood as well as I," he thought. "Why, the very
+name on the old bells of the church there, records the memory of an
+ancestress of hers! We cannot be so far apart." Looking at her
+standing there, he rehearsed to himself all that he meant to say, oh,
+a great many things both true and eloquent, but at that moment every
+word forsook him. Yet this was probably the best opportunity he would
+have of telling her what was burning in his heart: telling her how she
+had beguiled him at first by her quick understanding and her
+frolicsome wit, because all that sort of thing was so new to him. She
+had come like a mountain spring to a thirsty man. He had been groping
+for inspiration and for help: now he seemed to find them all in her.
+She was so much more than charming, though it was her charm that first
+impressed him; so much more than pretty, though her face attracted him
+at first; so much more than magnetic, though she drew him to her at
+their first meeting with bonds as delicate as they were strong. These
+were tangible, vital, legitimate qualities--but were they all? Could
+lips part so, could eyes shine so, could voice tremble so, if there
+were not something underneath; a good heart, fidelity, warmth of
+nature?
+
+"For the first time," he thought, "I long to be worthy of a woman. But
+I would not tell her how I love her at this moment, unless I felt I
+need not be wholly unequal to her demands. I have never desired
+anything strongly enough to struggle for it, up to now; but she has
+set my springs in motion, and I can work for her until I die!"
+
+All this he thought, but never a word he said. Then the church clock
+struck and the clashing bells began. They shook the air, the earth,
+the ancient stones, the very nests upon the trees, and sent the rooks
+flying black as ink against the yellow buttercups in the meadow.
+
+"We must go, in a few minutes," said Robinette. "Oh, will you pull me
+some of those white roses up there?"
+
+Lavendar swung himself up and drawing down a bunch he pulled off two
+white buds.
+
+"Will you take them?" he asked, holding them out to her. Then suddenly
+he said, very low and very humbly, "Oh, take me too; take me,
+Robinette, though no man was ever so unworthy!"
+
+Robinette laid the roses on the wall beside her.
+
+"For my part," she said, turning to Lavendar with a little laugh that
+was half a sob; "for my part, I like giving better than taking!" She
+put both her hands in his and looked into his face. "Here is my
+life," she said simply. "I want to belong to you, to help you, to live
+by your side."
+
+"I oughtn't to take you at your word," he said, his voice choked with
+emotion. "You are far too good for me!"
+
+"Hush," Robinetta answered, putting a finger on his lip; "it isn't a
+question of how great you are or how wonderful: it's a question of
+what we can be to each other. I'd rather have you than the Duke of
+Wellington or Marcus Aurelius, and I believe you wouldn't change me
+for Helen of Troy!"
+
+"I have nothing to bring you, nothing," said Lavendar again, "nothing
+but my love and my whole heart."
+
+"If all the kingdoms of the earth were offered to me instead, I would
+still take you and what you give me," Robinette answered.
+
+Lavendar laid his cheek against her bright hair and sighed deeply. In
+that sigh there passed away all former things, and behold, all things
+became new. Two cuckoos answered each other from opposite banks of the
+river and two hearts sang songs of joy that met and mingled and
+floated upward.
+
+Again the bells broke out overhead, filling the air with music that
+had rung from them ever since just such another morning hundreds of
+years before, when they rang their first peal from the church tower,
+bearing the legend newly cut upon them: "Pray for the Soul of Anne de
+Tracy, 1538." And Anne de Tracy's memory was forgotten--so long
+forgotten--except for the bells that carried her name!
+
+Yet in these same meadows that she must have known, spring was come
+once more. The Devonshire plum trees had budded and blossomed and shed
+their petals year after year, and year after year, since the bells
+first swung in the air; and now Hope was born once again, and Youth,
+and Love, which is immortal!
+
+
+
+
+The Riverside Press
+
+CAMBRIDGE . MASSACHUSETTS
+
+U . S . A
+
+
+
+
+REBECCA of SUNNYBROOK FARM
+
+By KATE DOUGLAS WIGGIN
+
+"Of all the children of Mrs. Wiggin's brain, the most laughable and
+the most lovable is Rebecca."--_Life, N. Y._
+
+"Rebecca creeps right into one's affections and stays
+there."--_Philadelphia Item._
+
+"A character that is irresistible in her quaint, humorous
+originality."--_Cleveland Leader._
+
+"Rebecca is as refreshing as a draught of spring water."--_Los Angeles
+Times._
+
+"Rebecca has come to stay with one for all time, and delight one
+perpetually, like Marjorie Fleming."--_Literary World, Boston._
+
+HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY
+
+BOSTON AND NEW YORK
+
+
+
+
+THE SIEGE OF THE SEVEN SUITORS
+
+By MEREDITH NICHOLSON
+
+"It is not often that one comes upon so clean a farce, so delightful,
+good-humored satire."--_Chicago Evening Post._
+
+"He has woven wit and humor and clever satire into this airy fantasy
+of twentieth century life in a way that should add to his literary
+fame."--_Indianapolis Star._
+
+"For sheer cleverness of invention and sprightly wit this story has
+had no peer in recent years."--_New York Press._
+
+"Just the sort of book which will delight those seeking clean,
+wholesome entertainment."--_Boston Globe._
+
+"Meredith Nicholson's is a delightful book, witty, epigrammatic,
+flavorsome ... recalls Frank Stockton's bewitching foolery and
+perennial charm."--_Milwaukee Free Press._
+
+HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY
+
+BOSTON AND NEW YORK
+
+
+
+
+A MAN'S MAN
+
+By IAN HAY
+
+"An admirable romance of adventure. It tells of the life of one Hughie
+Marrable, who, from college days to the time when fate relented, had
+no luck with women. The story is cleverly written and full of
+sprightly axioms."--_Philadelphia Ledger._
+
+"It is a very joyous book, and the writer's powers of characterization
+are much out of the common."--_The Dial._
+
+"A good, clean, straightforward bit of fiction, with likable people in
+it, and enough action to keep up the suspense throughout."--_Minneapolis
+Journal._
+
+"The reader will search contemporary fiction far before he meets a novel
+which will give him the same frank pleasure and amusement."--_London
+Bookman._
+
+HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY
+
+BOSTON AND NEW YORK
+
+
+
+
+SCOTTIE AND HIS LADY
+
+By MARGARET MORSE
+
+"The story of a handsome, intelligent collie dog. It is entertainingly
+and sympathetically told, and sure of the absorbed interest of every
+young lover of animals."--_Chicago Daily News._
+
+"Instantly deserves a place with Richard Harding Davis's 'Bar
+Sinister,' Alfred Ollivant's 'Bob, Son of Battle,' and Jack London's
+'Call of the Wild.'"--_Boston Transcript._
+
+"A delightful love story is woven in with the joys and trials of
+Scottie, who finds perfect satisfaction in the happy culmination of
+the romance of his lady."--_Chicago Record-Herald._
+
+HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY
+
+BOSTON AND NEW YORK
+
+
+
+
+JOHN WINTERBOURNE'S FAMILY
+
+By ALICE BROWN
+
+"A delightful and unusual story. The manner in which the hero's male
+solitude is invaded and set right is amusing and eccentric enough to
+have been devised by the late Frank Stockton. It is a story that is
+well worth reading."--_New York Sun._
+
+"Is to be counted among the best novels of this entertaining writer
+... written with a skilful and delicate touch."--_Springfield
+Republican._
+
+"In its literary graces, in its portrayal of characters that are never
+commonplace though genuinely human, and in its development of a singular
+social situation, the book is one to give delight."--_Philadelphia
+Press._
+
+HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY
+
+BOSTON AND NEW YORK
+
+
+
+
+THE PROFESSIONAL AUNT
+
+By MARY C. E. WEMYSS
+
+"One of the most delightful stories that has ever crossed the
+water."--_Louisville Courier-Journal._
+
+"The legitimate successor of 'Helen's Babies.'"--_Clara Louise
+Burnham._
+
+"A classic in the literature of childhood."--_San Francisco
+Chronicle._
+
+"Mrs. Wemyss is a formidable rival to E. Nesbit, who hitherto has
+stood practically alone as a charmingly humorous interpreter of child
+life."--_Chicago Inter-Ocean._
+
+"A charming, witty, tender book."--_Kate Douglas Wiggin._
+
+"It is a sunny, warm-hearted humorous story, that leaves the reader
+with a sense of time well spent in its perusal."--_Brooklyn Eagle._
+
+HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY
+
+BOSTON AND NEW YORK
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Robinetta, by 
+Kate Douglas Wiggin and Mary Findlater and Jane Findlater and Allan McAulay
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30090 ***
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-The Project Gutenberg EBook of Robinetta, by 

-Kate Douglas Wiggin and Mary Findlater and Jane Findlater and Allan McAulay

-

-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

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-Title: Robinetta

-

-Author: Kate Douglas Wiggin

-        Mary Findlater

-        Jane Findlater

-        Allan McAulay

-

-Release Date: September 25, 2009 [EBook #30090]

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-Language: English

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-Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1

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-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROBINETTA ***

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-Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed

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-

-ROBINETTA

-

-

-

-

-By Kate Douglas Wiggin

-

-ROBINETTA. Illustrated. 12mo, $1.10 net. Postage, 10 cents.

-

-REBECCA OF SUNNYBROOK FARM. Holiday Edition. Illustrated. Crown 8vo, $1.50.

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-SUSANNA AND SUE. Illustrated by Alice Barber Stephens. Crown 8vo, $1.50

-net. Postage 15 cents.

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-NEW CHRONICLES OF REBECCA. Illustrated by F. C. Yohn. 12mo, $1.25.

-

-ROSE O' THE RIVER. Illustrated in color. 12mo, 1.25.

-

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-

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-NINE LOVE SONGS, AND A CAROL. Music by Mrs. Wiggin. Words by Herrick,

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-HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY

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-Boston and New York

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-

-[Illustration]

-

-

-

-

-ROBINETTA

-

-by

-

-Kate Douglas Wiggin

-

-Mary Findlater

-

-Jane Findlater

-

-Allan McAulay

-

-BOSTON AND NEW YORK

-

-Houghton Mifflin Company

-

-The Riverside Press, Cambridge

-

-

-

-

-COPYRIGHT, 1910 AND 1911, BY KATE DOUGLAS RIGGS

-

-COPYRIGHT, 1911, BY HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY

-

-ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

-

-Published February 1911

-

-

-

-

-CONTENTS

-

-      I. THE PLUM TREE                                               1

-     II. THE MANOR HOUSE                                             7

-    III. YOUNG MRS. LORING                                          19

-     IV. A CHILLY RECEPTION                                         29

-      V. AT WITTISHAM                                               39

-     VI. MARK LAVENDAR                                              54

-    VII. A CROSS-EXAMINATION                                        69

-   VIII. SUNDAY AT STOKE REVEL                                      87

-     IX. POINTS OF VIEW                                             99

-      X. A NEW KINSMAN                                             113

-     XI. THE SANDS AT WESTON                                       127

-    XII. LOVE IN THE MUD                                           151

-   XIII. CARNABY TO THE RESCUE                                     170

-    XIV. THE EMPTY SHRINE                                          181

-     XV. "NOW LUBIN IS AWAY"                                       194

-    XVI. TWO LETTERS                                               210

-   XVII. MRS. DE TRACY CROSSES THE FERRY                           217

-  XVIII. THE STOKE REVEL JEWELS                                    234

-    XIX. LAWYER AND CLIENT                                         250

-     XX. THE NEW HOME                                              260

-    XXI. CARNABY CUTS THE KNOT                                     273

-   XXII. CONSEQUENCES                                              284

-  XXIII. DEATH AND LIFE                                            299

-   XXIV. GRANDMOTHER AND GRANDSON                                  309

-    XXV. THE BELLS OF STOKE REVEL                                  324

-

-

-

-

-ROBINETTA

-

-I

-

-THE PLUM TREE

-

-

-At Wittisham several of the little houses had crept down very close to

-the river. Mrs. Prettyman's cottage was just like a hive made for the

-habitation of some gigantic bee; its pointed roof covered with deep,

-close-cut thatch the colour of a donkey's hide. There were small

-windows under the overhanging eaves, a pathway of irregular flat

-stones ran up to the doorway, and a bit of low wall divided the tiny

-garden from the river. The Plum Tree grew just beside the wall, so

-near indeed that it could look at itself on spring days when the water

-was like a mirror. In autumn the branches on that side of the tree

-were the first to be shaken, lest any of the fruit should fall down

-and be lost. Sometimes a village child treading cautiously on bare

-toes amongst the stones along the narrow margin, would pounce upon a

-plum with a squeal of joy, for although the village was surrounded

-with orchards, the fruit of Mrs. Prettyman's tree had a flavour all

-its own.

-

-The tree had been given to her by a nephew who was a gardener in a

-great fruit orchard in the North, and her husband had planted and

-tended it for years. It began life as a slender thing with two or

-three rods of branches, that looked as if the first wind of winter

-would blow it away, but before the storms came, it had begun to

-trust itself to the new earth, and to root itself with force and

-determination. There were good soil and water near it, and plenty of

-sunshine, and, as is the way of Nature, it set itself to do its own

-business at all seasons, unlike the distracted heart of man. The

-traffic of the river came and went; around the headland the big

-ships were steering in, or going out to sea; and in the village

-the human life went on while the Plum Tree grew high enough to look

-over the wall. Its stem by that time had a firm footing; next it took

-a charming bend to the side, and then again threw out new branches

-in that direction. It turned itself from the prevailing wind, throwing

-a new grace into its attitude, and went on growing; returning in

-blossom and leaves and fruit an hundredfold for all that it received

-from the earth and the sun.

-

-In spring it was enchanting; at first, before the blossoms came out,

-with small bright leaves, and buds like pearls, heaped upon the

-branches; then, later, when the whole tree was white, imaged like a

-bride, in the looking-glass of the river. It only wanted a nightingale

-to sing in it by moonlight. There were no nightingales there, but the

-thrushes sang in the dawning, and the little birds whose voices were

-sweet and thin chirruped about it in crowds, while the larks, trilling

-out the ardour of mating time, sometimes rose from their nests in the

-grass and soared over its topmost branches on their skyward flight.

-

-Spring, therefore, was its merriest time, for then every passer-by

-would cry, "What a beautiful tree!" or "Did ye ever see the likes of

-it?"

-

-There were a few days of inevitable sadness a little later when its

-million petals fell and made a delicate carpet of snow on the ground.

-There they lay in a kind of fairy ring, as if there had been a shower

-of mother-of-pearl in the April night; and no human creature would

-have dared set a vandal foot on that magic circle, and mar the

-perfection of its beauty. All the same the Plum Tree had lost its

-petals, and that was hard to bear at first. But though its Wittisham

-neighbours often said to summer trippers, "I wish you could have seen

-it in blossom!" the Plum Tree did not repine, because of the

-secrets--the thousand, thousand secrets--it held under its leaves.

-"The blossoms were but a promise," it thought, "and soon everybody

-will see the meaning of them."

-

-Then the tiny green globes began to appear on every branch and twig;

-crowding, crowding, crowding till it seemed as if there could never be

-room for so many to grow; but the weaker ones fell from the boughs or

-were blown away when the wind was fierce, so the Plum Tree felt no

-anxiety, knowing that it was built for a large family! The little

-green globes grew and grew, and drank in sweet mother-juices, and

-swelled, and when the summer sun touched their cheeks all day they

-flushed and reddened, till when August came the tree was laden with

-purpling fruit; fruit so tempting that its rosy beauty had sometimes

-to be hidden under a veil of grey fishing net, lest the myriad

-bird-friends it had made during the summer should love it too much for

-its own good.

-

-So the Plum Tree grew and flourished, taking its part in the pageant

-of the seasons, unaware that its existence was to be interwoven with

-that of men; or that creatures of another order of being were to owe

-some changes in their fortunes to its silent obedience to the motive

-of life.

-

-

-

-

-II

-

-THE MANOR HOUSE

-

-

-The long, low drawing room of the Manor at Stoke Revel was the warmest

-and most genial room in the old Georgian house. It was four-windowed

-and faced south, and even on this morning of a chilly and backward

-spring, the tentative sunshine of April had contrived to put out the

-fire in the steel grate. One of the windows opened wide to the garden,

-and let in a scent which was less of flowers than of the promise of

-flowers--a scent of earth and green leaves, of the leafless daphne

-still a-bloom in the shrubbery, of hyacinths and daffodils and tulips

-and primroses still sheathed in their buds and awaiting a warmer air.

-

-But this promise of spring borne into the room by the wandering breeze

-from the river, was nipped, as it were, by the frigid spirit of age

-and formalism in its living occupants. Mrs. de Tracy, a lady of

-seventy-five, sat at her writing-table. Her companion, Miss Smeardon,

-a person of indeterminate age, nursed the lap-dog Rupert during such

-time as her employer was too deeply engaged to fulfil that agreeable

-duty. Mrs. de Tracy, as she wrote, was surrounded by countless

-photographs of her family and her wide connection, most prominent

-among them two--that of her husband, Admiral de Tracy, who had died

-many years ago, and that of her grandson, his successor, whose

-guardian she was, and whose minority she directed. Her eldest son, the

-father of this boy, who had died on his ship off the coast of Africa;

-his wife, dead too these many years; her other sons as well (she had

-borne four); their wives and children--grown men, fashionable women,

-beautiful children, fat babies: the likenesses of them all were around

-her, standing amid china and flowers and bric-a-brac on the crowded

-tables and what-nots of the not inharmonious and yet shabby Victorian

-room. Mrs. de Tracy, it might at a glance be seen, was no innovator,

-either in furniture, in dress, or probably in ideas. As she was

-dressed now, in the severely simple black of a widow, so she had been

-dressed when she first mourned Admiral de Tracy. The muslin ends of

-her widow's cap fell upon her shoulders, and its border rested on the

-hard lines of iron-grey hair which framed a face small, pale, aquiline

-in character and decidedly austere in expression.

-

-She took one from a docketed pile of letters and held it up under her

-glasses, the sun suddenly striking a dazzle of blue and green from the

-diamond rings on her small, withered hands. Then she read it aloud to

-her companion in an even and chilly voice. She had read it before, in

-the same way, at the same hour, several times. The letter, couched in

-an epistolary style largely dependent upon underlining, appeared to

-contain, nevertheless, some matter of moment. It was dated from Eaton

-Square, in London, some weeks before, and signed Maria Spalding. ("Her

-mother was a Gallup," Mrs. de Tracy would say, if any one asked who

-Maria Spalding was; and this was considered sufficient, for Mrs. de

-Tracy's maiden name had been Gallup,--not euphonious but nevertheless

-aristocratic.)

-

-                  *       *       *       *       *

-

-MY DEAR AUGUSTA (Maria Spalding wrote): I am going to ask you to

-help me out of a _difficulty_. There is no _use_ beating about the

-bush. You know that Cynthia's daughter Robinetta (Loring is her

-_married_ name) has been with me for a month. _American_ or no

-_American_, I meant to have had her for a part of the season, and to

-_present_ her, if possible (so _good_ for these Americans to learn

-what royalty _is_ and to breathe the atmosphere which doth hedge a

-_King_ as Shakespeare says, and which they can never _have_, of

-course, in a country like theirs). I know you can't _approve_, dear

-Augusta, and you will blame me for sentimentality--but I never

-_can_ forget what a _sweet_ creature Cynthia was before she ran away

-with that odious American--and my _greatest_ friend in girlhood, too,

-you must remember. So Robinette, as she is generally called, has

-come to my house as a _home_, but a most _unlucky_ thing has

-happened. I have had influenza so badly that it has affected my

-_heart_ (an old trouble), I am ordered to Nauheim, and Robinette is

-_stranded_, poor dear. She has few friends in London and certainly

-none who can put her up. Tho' she _is_ a widow, she is only twenty-two

-(just _imagine_!), very pretty, and really, tho' you won't believe

-it, _quite_ nice. I am _desperate_, and just wondering if you

-would let by-gones be by-gones, and receive her at Stoke Revel. She

-has set her heart upon seeing the place, and some _picture_ she

-was called after (I can't remember it, so it can't be one of the

-_famous_ Stoke Revel group--a _copy_, I fancy), and on paying a

-visit to Lizzie Prettyman, her mother's old nurse at Wittisham over

-the river. She _promised_ her mother she would do this--and such a

-promise is _sacred_, don't you think? It's such an _old_ story

-now, Cynthia's American marriage, and no fault of _Robinette's_,

-poor dear child. Her wish is almost a _pious_ one, don't you agree, to

-pay respect to her mother's memory and the family, and is _much_ to

-be encouraged in these days of radicalism, when every natural tie

-is loosened and people pay no more _respect_ to their parents than if

-they hadn't any, but had made themselves and brought themselves up

-from the beginning. So don't you think it's a _good_ thing to

-encourage the _right_ kind of feeling in Robinette, especially as

-she is an _American_, you know....

-

-                  *       *       *       *       *

-

-Mrs. de Tracy paused, and replaced the letter in the package from

-which she had withdrawn it.

-

-"Maria Spalding's point of view," she observed, "has, I confess,

-helped me to overcome the extreme reluctance I felt to receive the

-child of that American here. Cynthia de Tracy's elopement nearly broke

-my dear husband's heart. She was the apple of his eye before our

-marriage; so much younger than himself that she was like his child

-rather than his sister."

-

-"What a shock it must have been!" murmured the companion. "What

-ingratitude! Can you really receive her child? Of course you know

-best, Mrs. de Tracy; but it seems a risk."

-

-"Hardly a risk," rejoined Mrs. de Tracy with dignity. "But it is a

-trial to me, and an effort that I scarcely feel called upon to make."

-

-Miss Smeardon was so well versed in her duties that she knew she

-always had to urge her employer to do exactly what she most wanted to

-do, and the poor creature had developed a really wonderful ingenuity

-in divining what these wishes were. Just now, however, she was, to use

-a sporting phrase, "at fault" for a minute. She could not exactly

-tell whether Mrs. de Tracy wanted to be urged to ask her niece to

-Stoke Revel, or whether she wanted to be supplied with a really

-plausible excuse for not doing so. Those of you who have seen a hound

-at fault can imagine the companion at this moment: irresolute, tense,

-desperately anxious to find and follow up the right scent. Compromise,

-that useful refuge, came to her aid.

-

-"It _is_ difficult to know," she faltered. Then Mrs. de Tracy gave her

-the lead.

-

-"Maria Spalding is right when she says that my husband's niece

-contemplates a duty in visiting Stoke Revel," she announced. "The

-young woman is the lawful daughter of Cynthia de Tracy that was: our

-solicitors could never discover anything dubious in the marriage,

-though we long suspected it. Therefore, though I never could have

-invited her here, I admit that the Admiral's niece has a right to

-come, in a way."

-

-"Though her maiden name was Bean!" ejaculated the companion, almost

-under her breath. "There are Pease in the North, as everyone knows;

-perhaps there are Beans somewhere."

-

-"There have never been Beans," said Mrs. de Tracy solemnly and totally

-unconscious of a pun. "Look for yourself!"

-

-Miss Smeardon did not need to rise from her seat and fetch Burke: it

-lay always close at hand. She merely lifted it on to her knee and ran

-her finger down the names beginning with B-e-a.

-

-"Beaton, Beare, Beatty, Beale--" she read out, and she shook her head

-in dismal triumph; "but never a Bean! No! we English have no such

-dreadful names, thank Heavens!"

-

-"This is the beginning of April," pursued Mrs. de Tracy, referring to

-a date-card. "Maria Spalding's course at Nauheim will take three

-weeks. We must allow her a week for going and coming. During that time

-Mrs. David Loring can be my guest."

-

-"A whole month!" cried the companion, as though in ecstasy at her

-employer's generosity. "A whole month at Stoke Revel!"

-

-Mrs. de Tracy took no notice. "Write in my name to Maria Spalding,

-please," she commanded. "Be sure that there is no mistake about dates.

-Mention the departure and arrival of trains, and say that Mrs. David

-Loring will find a fly at the station. That is all, I think."

-

-The companion bent officiously forward. "You remember, of course, that

-young Mr. Lavendar comes down next week upon business?"

-

-"Well, what if he does?" asked Mrs. de Tracy shortly.

-

-"Mrs. David Loring is a widow," murmured the companion darkly; "a

-young American widow; and they are said to be so dangerous!"

-

-Mrs. de Tracy drew herself up. "Do you insinuate that the Admiral's

-niece will lay herself out to attract Mr. Lavendar, a widow in the

-house of a widow! You go rather too far, Miss Smeardon, though you are

-speaking of an American. Besides, allusions of this character are

-extremely distasteful to me. I have been told that the minds of

-unmarried women are always running upon love affairs, but I should

-hardly have thought it of you."

-

-"I'm sure I never imagined any about myself!" murmured Miss Smeardon

-with the pitiable writhe of the trodden-on worm.

-

-"I should suppose not," rejoined Mrs. de Tracy gravely, and the

-companion took up her pen obediently to write to Maria Spalding.

-

-"Shall I send your love to the Admiral's niece?" she humbly enquired,

-"or--or something of the kind?" There was irony in the last phrase,

-but it was quite unconscious.

-

-"Not my love," replied Mrs. de Tracy, "some suitable message. Make no

-mistake about the dates, remember."

-

-Thus a letter containing dates, and though not love, the substitute

-described by Miss Smeardon as "something of the kind" for an unwanted

-niece from an unknown aunt, left Stoke Revel by the afternoon post and

-reached Robinette Loring at breakfast next morning.

-

-

-

-

-III

-

-YOUNG MRS. LORING

-

-

-Young Mrs. Loring thought she had never taken so long a drive as that

-from the Weston railway station to Stoke Revel. The way stretched

-through narrow winding roads, always up hill, always between high

-Devonshire hedges. The rain-soaked lanes were slippery and she was

-unpleasantly conscious of the size and weight of the American wardrobe

-trunk that reared its mighty frame in front of her almost to the

-blotting-out of the driver, who steadied it with one hand as he plied

-the whip with the other. It struck her humorously that the trunk was

-larger than most of the cottages they were passing.

-

-It was a late spring that year in England,--Robinette was a new-comer

-and did not know that England runs to late and wet springs, believing

-that they make more conversation than early, fine ones,--and the

-trees were just bursting into leaf. The sun had not shone for three

-days and the landscape, for all its beautiful greenness, looked gloomy

-to an eye accustomed to a good deal of crude sunshine.

-

-As the horse mounted higher and higher Robinette glanced out of the

-windows at the dripping boughs and her face lost something of its

-sparkle of anticipation. She had little to expect in the way of a warm

-welcome, she knew that; or at least her mind knew it, but Robinette's

-heart always expected surprises, although she had lived two and twenty

-summers and was a widow at that.

-

-Her mother had been a de Tracy of Stoke Revel whose connection with

-that ancient family had ceased abruptly when she met an American

-architect while traveling on the Continent, married him out of hand

-and went to his native New England with him. The de Tracys had no

-opinion of America, its government, its institutions, its customs, or

-its people, and when they learned that Cynthia de Tracy had not only

-allied herself with this undesirable nation, but had selected a native

-by the name of Harold Bean, they regarded the incident of the marriage

-as closed.

-

-The union had been a happy one, though the de Tracys of Stoke Revel

-had always regarded the unfortunately named architect more as a

-vegetable than a human being; and the daughter of the marriage was the

-young Mrs. Loring now driving in the station fly to the home of her

-mother's people.

-

-Her father had died when she was fifteen and her mother followed three

-years after, leaving her with a respectable fortune but no relations;

-the entire family (happily, Mrs. de Tracy would have said) having died

-out with Harold. Robinette was unspeakably lonely, even with her

-hundred friends, for there was enough English blood in her to make her

-cry out inwardly for kith and kin, for family ties, for all the dear

-familiar backgrounds of hearth and home. Had a welcoming hand been

-stretched across the sea she would have flown at once to make

-acquaintance with the de Tracys, cold and indifferent as they had

-always been, but no bidding ever came, and the picture of the Manor

-House of Stoke Revel on her dressing-table was the only reminder of

-her connection with that ancient and honourable house.

-

-It is not difficult to see, under the circumstances, how the

-nineteen-year-old Robinette became the wife of the first man in whom

-she inspired a serious passion.

-

-It is incredible that women should confuse the passive process of

-being loved with the active process of loving, but it occurs

-nevertheless, and Robinette drifted into marriage with the vaguest

-possible notions of what it meant; feeling and knowing that she needed

-something, and supposing it must be a husband. It was better fortune,

-perhaps, than she merited, and equally kind for both parties, that her

-husband died before either of them realized the tragic mistake. David

-Loring was too absorbed in his own emotions to note the absence of

-full response on the part of his wife; Robinette was too much a child

-and too inexperienced to be conscious of her own lack of feeling.

-

-It was death, not life, that opened her eyes. When David Loring lay in

-his coffin, Robinette's heart was suddenly seized with growing pains.

-Her vision widened; words and promises took on a new and larger

-meaning, and she became a serious woman for her years, although there

-was an ineradicable gaiety of spirit in her that needed only sunshine

-to make it the dominant note of her nature.

-

-At the moment, Robinette, in the station fly on her way to Stoke

-Revel, was only in the making, although she herself considered her

-life as practically finished. The past and the present were moulding

-her into something that only the future could determine. Sometimes

-April, sometimes July, sometimes witch, sometimes woman; impetuous,

-intrepid, romantic, tempestuous, illogical,--these were but the

-elements of which the coming years of experience had yet to shape a

-character. Young Mrs. Loring had plenty of briars, but she had good

-roots and in favorable soil would be certain to bear roses.

-

-But in the immediate present, the fly with the immense American

-wardrobe trunk beside the driver, turned into the avenue of Stoke

-Revel, and Mrs. David Loring bestowed upon herself those little

-feminine attentions which precede arrival--pattings of the hair behind

-the ears, twitches of the veil, and pullings down about the waist and

-sleeves. A little toy of a purse made of golden chainwork, hanging

-from her wrist, was searched for the driver's fare, and it had hardly

-snapped to again when the fly drew up before the entrance to the

-house. How interesting it looked! Robinette put her head out of the

-carriage window and gazed up at the long row of windows, the old

-weather-coloured stones, and the carved front of the building. Here

-was a house where things might happen, she thought, and her young

-heart gave a sudden bound of anticipation.

-

-But the door was shut, alas! and a blank feeling came over Robinette

-as she looked at it. Some one perhaps would come out and welcome

-her, she thought for a brief moment, but only the butler appeared,

-who, with the formal announcement of her name, ushered her into a

-long, low room with a row of windows on one side and a pleasant

-old-fashioned look of comfort and habitation. She caught a glimpse

-of a tea-table with a steaming urn upon it, heard the furious barking

-of a little dog, saw that there were two figures in the room and

-moved instinctively towards the one beside the window, the figure in

-weeds, neither very tall nor very imposing, yet somehow formidable.

-

-"How do you do?" said an icy voice, and a chill hand held hers for a

-moment, but did not press it. The colour in Robinette's cheeks paled

-and then rushed back, as she drew herself up unconsciously.

-

-"I am very well, thank you, Aunt de Tracy," she answered with

-commendable composure.

-

-"This is my friend and companion, Miss Smeardon," continued Mrs. de

-Tracy, advancing to the tea-table where that useful personage

-officiated. "Mrs. David Loring--Miss Smeardon." Miss Smeardon had the

-dog upon her lap, yapping, clashing his teeth together, and obviously

-thirsting for the visitor's blood. He was quieted with soothing words,

-and Robinette seated herself innocently in the nearest chair, beside

-the table.

-

-"Excuse me!" the companion said with a slight cough; "Mrs. de Tracy's

-chair! Do you mind taking another?" There was something disagreeable

-in her voice, and in Mrs. de Tracy's deliberate scrutiny something so

-nearly insulting that a childish impulse to cry then and there

-suddenly seized upon Robinette. This was her mother's home--and no

-kiss had welcomed her to it, no kind word! There were perfunctory

-questions about her journey, references to the coldness and lateness

-of the spring, enquiries after the health of Maria Spalding (whose

-mother was a Gallup), but no claiming of kinship, no naming of her

-mother's name nor of her native country! Robinette's ardent spirit had

-felt sorrow, but it had never met rebuff nor known injustice, and the

-sudden stir of revolt at her heart was painful with an almost physical

-pain.

-

-After a long drawn hour of this social torture, Mrs. de Tracy rang,

-and a hard-featured elderly maid appeared.

-

-"Show Mrs. Loring to her room, Benson," said the mistress of the

-house, "and help her to unpack."

-

-Robinette followed her conductor upstairs with a sinking heart. Oh!

-but the chill of this English spring was in her bones, and the

-coldness of a reception so frigid that her passionate young spirit

-almost rebelled on the spot, prompting wild ideas and impulsive

-impossibilities; even a flight to her mother's old nurse--to Lizzie

-Prettyman, so often lovingly described, with her little thatched

-cottage beyond the river! Surely she would find the welcome there that

-was lacking here, and the touch of human kindness that one craved in a

-foreign land. But no! Robinette called to her aid her strong American

-common sense and the "grit" that her countrymen admire. Was she to

-confess herself routed in the very first onset--the very first attempt

-in storming the ancestral stronghold? With a characteristically quick

-return of hope, the Admiral's niece exclaimed, "Certainly not!"

-

-

-

-

-IV

-

-A CHILLY RECEPTION

-

-

-Mrs. Benson approached the wardrobe trunk with the air of a person who

-has taken an immediate and violent dislike to an object.

-

-"We have all looked at your box, ma'am, but I am sorry to say we are

-not sure that it is set up properly. It is very different from any we

-have ever seen at the Manor, and the men had some difficulty in

-getting it up to the room. I fancy it is upside down, is it not? No?

-We rather thought it was. I would call the boot-and-knife boy to

-unlock it, but he jammed his hand in attempting to force the catches,

-and I thought you would be kind enough to instruct me how to open it,

-perhaps?"

-

-"I am quite able to do it myself," said Robinette, keeping down a

-hysterical laugh. "See how easily it goes when you know the secret!"

-and she deftly turned her key in two locks one after the other, let

-down the mysterious façade of the affair, and pulled out an

-extraordinary rack on which hung so many dresses and wraps that Mrs.

-Benson lost her breath in surprise.

-

-"Would you like me to carry some of your things into another room,

-ma'am?" she asked. "They will never go in the wardrobe; it is only a

-plain English wardrobe, ma'am. We have never had any American

-guests."

-

-"The things needn't be moved," said Robinette, "many of them will be

-quite convenient where they are;--and now you need not trouble about

-me; I am well used to helping myself, if you will be kind enough to

-come in just before dinner for a moment."

-

-Mrs. Benson disappeared below stairs, where she regaled the injured

-boot-and-knife boy and the female servants with the first instalment

-of what was destined to be the most dramatic and sensational serial

-story ever told at the Manor House.

-

-"The lid of the box don't lift up," she explained, "like all the box

-lids as ever I saw, and me with Lady Chitterton for six years,

-traveling constantly. The front of the thing splits in the middle and

-the bottom half falls on the floor. A heathenish kind of tray lifts

-off from its hinges like a door, and a clothes rack pulls out on

-runners. 'T is a sight to curdle your blood; and the number of dresses

-she's brought would make her out to be richer than Crusoe!--though I

-have heard from a cousin of mine who was in service in America that

-the ladies over there spend every penny they can rake and scrape on

-their clothes. Their husbands may work their fingers to the bone, and

-their parents be in the workhouse, but fine frocks they will have!"

-

-"Rather!" said the boot-and-knife boy, nursing his injured thumb.

-

-On the departure of Mrs. Benson from her room, Robinette gave a

-stifled shriek in which laughter and tears were equally mingled. Then

-she flew like a lapwing to the fire-place and lifted off a fan of

-white paper from the grate.

-

-"No possibility of help there!" she exclaimed. "Cold within, cold

-without! How shall I unpack? How shall I dress? How shall I live

-without a fire? Ah! here is the coal box! Empty! Empty, and it is only

-the month of April! 'Oh! to be in England now that April's there!' How

-could Browning write that line without his teeth chattering! How well

-I understand the desire of the British to keep India and South Africa!

-They must have some place to go where they can get warm! Now for

-unpacking, or any sort of manual labour which will put my frozen blood

-in circulation!"

-

-Slapping her hands, beating her breast, stamping her feet, Mrs. Loring

-removed a few dresses from the offending trunk to the mahogany

-wardrobe, and disposed her effects neatly in the drawers of bureau and

-highboy.

-

-"I have made a mistake at the very beginning," she thought. "I

-supposed nothing could be too pretty for the Manor House and now I am

-afraid my worst is too fine. The Manor House of Stoke Revel! Wouldn't

-that appeal to anyone's imagination? Now what for to-night? White

-satin with crystal? Back you go into the trunk! Back goes the

-silver grey chiffon! I'll have it re-hung over flannel! Avaunt!

-heliotrope velvet with amethyst spangles, made with a view to

-ensnaring the High Church clergy! I wish I had a princess dress of

-moleskin with a court train of squirrel hanging from the shoulders!

-Here is the thing; my black Liberty satin two years old. I will

-cover part of my exposed neck and shoulders with a fichu of lace; my

-black silk openwork stockings will be drawn on over a pair of

-balbriggans, and the number of petticoats I shall don would discourage

-a Scotch fishwife! To-morrow I'll write Mrs. Spalding's maid to buy

-me two hot-water bottles, mittens, a box of quinine tablets and a

-Shetland shawl.... What are these--_fans?_ Retire into the depths of

-that tray and never look me in the face again!... _Parasols?_ I

-wonder at your impertinence in coming here! I shall give you cod

-liver oil and make you grow into umbrellas!"

-

-Presently the dinner gong growled through the house, and Robinette,

-still shivering, flung across her shoulders a shimmering scarf of

-white and silver. It fell over her simple black dress in just the

-right way, adding a last touch to the somewhat exotic grace which made

-her a stranger in her mother's home. Then she fled down the darkening

-passages, instinctively aware that unpunctuality was a crime in this

-house. Yet in spite of her haste, she paused before the window of an

-upper lobby, arrested by the scene it framed. Heavy rain still fell,

-and the light, made greenish by the nearness of great trees just

-coming into leaf, was cheerless and singularly cold. But that could

-not mar the majesty of the outlook which made the Manor of Stoke

-Revel, on its height, unique. Far below the house, the broad river

-slipped towards the sea, between woods that rose tier upon tier above

-and beyond--woods of beech and of oak, not yet green, but purplish

-under the rainy mist. On the bank, woods too, and here, where the

-river, in excess of strength, swirled into a creek--a shining

-sand-bank where fishing nets were hung. Then the low, strong tower of

-a church, with the sombreness of cypress beside it, and the thatched

-roofs of cottages.

-

-Something stirred in the heart of Robinette as she looked, that part

-of her blood which her English mother had given her. This scene, so

-indescribably English as hardly to be imaginable in another land, had

-been painted for her again and again by her mother with all the

-retrospective romance of an exile's touch. She knew it, but she did

-not know if she could ever love it, beautiful though it was and

-noble.

-

-But she banished these misgivings and ran down the twisted stairway

-so fast that she was almost panting when she reached the drawing-room

-door.

-

-"I will take your arm, please," said the hostess coldly, while Miss

-Smeardon wore the virtuous and injured air of one who has been kept

-waiting. Mrs. de Tracy laid, on the warm and smooth arm of her guest,

-one of her small, dry hands, sparkling with rings, and the procession

-closed with the companion and the lap-dog.

-

-In the dining room, the shutters were closed, and the candles, in

-branching candlesticks of silver, only partially lit a room long and

-low like the other. The walls were darkened with pictures, and

-Robinette's bright eyes searched them eagerly.

-

-"The Sir Joshua is not here!" she thought. "And it was not in the

-drawing room. Has Aunt de Tracy given, or hidden it away--my very own

-name-picture?"

-

-With all her determination, Robinette somehow could not summon courage

-enough to ask where this picture was. Such a question would involve

-the mention of her mother's name, and from that she shrank. Young Mrs.

-Loring had never before found herself in a society where conversation

-was apparently regarded as a crime, and to fit herself to her

-environment, under the scrutiny of Mrs. de Tracy and the decidedly

-inimical looks of the companion, took all her time. A burden of

-self-consciousness lay upon her such as her light and elastic spirit

-had never known. She found herself morbidly observant of minute

-details; the pattern of the tablecloth; the crest upon the spoons; the

-curious red knobs upon Miss Smeardon's fingers, and the odd mincing

-way she held her fork; the almost athletic efforts of the butler when

-he raised an enormous silver dish-cover, and the curiously frugal and

-unappetizing nature of the viand it disclosed. The wizened face of the

-lap-dog, too, peering over the table's edge, out of Miss Smeardon's

-lap, might have acquired its distrustful expression, Robinette

-thought, from habitual doubts as to whether enough to eat would ever

-be his good fortune. The meal ended with the ceremonious presentation

-to each lady in turn, of three wrinkled apples and two crooked bananas

-in a probably priceless dish of Crown Derby. Then the procession

-re-formed and returned to the drawing room.

-

-"And the evening and the morning were the first day!" sighed Robinette

-to herself in the chilly solitude of her own room. How often could she

-endure the repetition?

-

-

-

-

-V

-

-AT WITTISHAM

-

-

-"May I have a fire to dress by, Benson?" Robinette asked rather

-timidly that night, her head just peeping above the blankets.

-

-"_Fire_?" returned Benson, in italics, with an interrogation point.

-

-Robinette longed to spell the word and ask Benson if it had ever come

-to her notice before, but she stifled her desire and said, "I am quite

-ashamed, Benson, but you see I am not used to the climate yet. If

-you'll pamper me just a little at the beginning, I shall behave better

-presently."

-

-"I will give orders for a fire night and morning, certainly, ma'am,"

-said Benson. "I did not offer it because our ladies never have one in

-their bedrooms at this time of the year. Mrs. de Tracy is very strong

-and active for her age."

-

-"It's my opinion she's a w'eedler," remarked Benson at the housekeeper's

-luncheon table. "She asks for what she wants like a child. She has a

-pretty way with her, I can't deny that, but is she a w'eedler?"

-

-Wheedler or not, Robinette got her fire to dress by, and so was able

-to come down in the morning feeling tolerably warm. It was well that

-she was, for the cold tea and tough toast of the de Tracy breakfast

-had little in them to warm the heart. Conversation languished during

-the meal, and after a walk to the stables Robinette was thankful to

-return to her own room again on the pretext of writing letters. There

-she piled up the fire, drew her chair close up to the hearth, and

-employed herself until noon, when she took her embroidery and joined

-her aunt in the drawing room. Luncheon was announced at half past one,

-and immediately after it Mrs. de Tracy and Miss Smeardon went to their

-respective bedrooms for rest.

-

-"Are there indeed only twelve hours in the day?" Robinette asked

-herself desperately as she heard the great, solemn-toned hall clock

-strike two. It seemed quite impossible that it could be only two; the

-whole afternoon had still to be accounted for, and how? Well, she

-might look over her clothes again, re-arranging them in all their

-dainty variety in the wardrobe and drawers; she might put tissue paper

-into the sleeves of each bodice, smoothing out every crease; she might

-even find that some tiny repairs were needed! There were three new

-hats, and several pairs of new gloves to be tried on; her accounts

-must be made up, her cheque book balanced; yet all these things would

-take but a short time. Then the hall clock struck three.

-

-"I must go out," she thought.

-

-Coming through the hall from her room Robinette met her aunt and Miss

-Smeardon descending the staircase.

-

-"We are driving this afternoon," said Mrs. de Tracy, "would you not

-like to come with us?"

-

-The thought turned Robinette to stone: she had visited the stables,

-and seen the coachman lead what seemed to her a palsied horse out into

-the yard. Her sympathetic allusion to the supposed condition of the

-steed had not been well received, for the man had given her to

-understand that this was the one horse of the establishment, but

-Robinette had vowed never to sit behind it.

-

-"I think I'd rather walk, Aunt de Tracy," she said, "I'd like to go

-and see my mother's old nurse, Mrs. Prettyman. Can I do any errands

-for you?"

-

-"None, thank you. To go to Wittisham you have to cross the ferry,

-remember."

-

-"Oh! that must be simple! you may be sure I shall not lose myself!"

-said Robinette.

-

-Both the older women looked curiously at her for a moment; then Mrs.

-de Tracy said:--

-

-"You will kindly not use the public ferry; the footman will row you

-across to Wittisham at any hour you may mention to him."

-

-"Oh, but Aunt de Tracy, I'd really prefer the public ferry."

-

-"Nonsense, impossible; the footman shall row you," said Mrs. de Tracy

-with finality.

-

-Robinette said nothing; she hated the idea of the footman, but it

-seemed inevitable. "Am I never to get away from their dullnesses?" she

-thought. "A public ferry sounds quite lively in place of being rowed

-by William!"

-

-When the shore was reached, however, Robinette discovered that the

-passage across the river in a leaky little boat, rowed by a painfully

-inexperienced servant, was almost too much for her. To see him

-fumbling with the oars, made her tingle to take them herself; she

-could not abide the irritation of a return journey with such a

-boatman. This determination was hastened when she saw that instead of

-the three-decker steamer of her native land, the ferry at Wittisham

-was just like an ordinary row-boat; that one rang a bell hanging from

-a picturesque tower; that a nice young man with a sprig of wallflower

-in his cap rowed one across, and that each passenger handed out a

-penny to him on the farther side.

-

-"How enchantingly quaint!" she cried. "William, you can go home; I

-shall return by the public ferry."

-

-William looked surprised but only replied, "Very good, ma'am."

-

-On warm summer afternoons the tiny square of Mrs. Prettyman's garden

-made as delightful a place to sit in as one could wish. There was

-sunshine on the turf, and a thin shade was cast by the drooping boughs

-of the plum tree; just enough to shelter old eyes from the glare. When

-she was very tired with doing her work Mrs. Prettyman would totter out

-into the garden. She was getting terribly lame now, yet afraid to

-acknowledge it, knowing, with the desperate wisdom of poverty, that

-once to give in, very often ended in giving up altogether. So her

-lameness was 'blamed on the weather,' 'blamed on scrubbing the

-floor,' blamed on anything rather than the tragic, incurable fact of

-old age. This afternoon her rheumatism had been specially bad: she had

-an inclination to cry out when she rose from her chair, and every step

-was an effort. Yet the sunshine was tempting; it warmed old and aching

-bones through and through as no fire could do; and Mrs. Prettyman

-thought she must make the effort to go out.

-

-She had just arrived at this conclusion, when a tap came to the door.

-

-"That you, Mrs. Darke?" she called out in her piping old voice. "Come

-in, me dear, I'm that stiff with me rheumatics to-day I can't scarce

-rise out of me chair."

-

-"It's not Mrs. Darke," said Robinette, stooping to enter through the

-tiny doorway. "It's a stranger, Mrs. Prettyman, come all the way from

-America to see you."

-

-"Lor' now, Miss, whoever may you be?" the old woman cried, making as

-if she would rise from her chair. But Robinette caught her arm and

-made her sit still.

-

-"Don't get up; please sit right there where you are, and I'll take

-this chair beside you. Now, Mrs. Prettyman, look at me hard, and tell

-me if you know who I am."

-

-The old woman gazed into Robinette's face, and then a light seemed to

-break over her.

-

-"It's Miss Cynthia's daughter you are!" she cried. "My Miss Cynthia as

-went and married in America!"

-

-She caught Robinette's white ringed hands in hers, and Robinette bent

-down and kissed the wrinkled old face.

-

-"I know that mother loved you, Nurse," she said. "She used often,

-often to tell me about you."

-

-After the fashion of old people, Mrs. Prettyman was too much moved to

-speak. Her face worked all over, and then slow tears began to run down

-her furrowed cheeks. She got up from her chair and walked across the

-uneven floor, leaning on a stick.

-

-"I've something here, Miss, I've something here; something I never

-parts with," she said. A tall chest of drawers stood against the wall,

-and the old woman began to search among its contents as she spoke. At

-last she found a little kid shoe, laid away in a handkerchief.

-

-"See here, Miss! here's my Miss Cynthia's shoe! 'T was tied on to my

-wedding coach the day I got married and left her. My 'usband 'e

-laughed at me cruel because I'd have that shoe with me; but I've kept

-it ever since."

-

-Robinette came and stood beside her, and they both wept together over

-the silly little shoe.

-

-"I want to talk a great deal to you, Nurse; I want to tell you all

-about mother and father, and how they died," said Robinette through

-her tears. How strange that she should have to come to this cottage

-and to this poor old woman before she found anyone to whom she could

-speak of her beloved dead! Her heart was so full that she could

-scarcely speak. A crowd of memories rushed into her mind; last scenes

-and parting words; those innumerable unforgettable details that are

-printed once for all upon the heart that loves and feels.

-

-"I'd like to tell you about it out of doors, Nurse dear," she said

-tearfully; "can you come out under the plum tree in your garden? It's

-lovely there."

-

-"Yes, dearie, yes, we'll come out under the plum tree, we will,"

-echoed Mrs. Prettyman.

-

-"See, Nursie, take my arm, I'll help you out into the warm sunshine,"

-Robinette said.

-

-They progressed very slowly, the old woman leaning with all her weight

-upon the arm of her strong young helper. Then under the flickering

-shade of the tree they sat down together for their talk.

-

-So much to tell, so much to hear, the afternoon slipped away unknown

-to them, and still they were sitting there hand in hand talking and

-listening; sometimes crying a little, sometimes laughing; a queerly

-assorted couple, these new-made friends.

-

-But when all the recollections had been talked over and wept over,

-when Mrs. Prettyman had told Robinette, with the extraordinary detail

-that old people can put into their memories of long ago, all that she

-remembered of Cynthia de Tracy's childhood, then Robinette began to

-question the old woman about her own life. Was she comfortable? Was

-she tolerably well off? Or had she difficulty in making ends meet?

-

-To these questions Mrs. Prettyman made valiant answers: she had a fine

-spirit, and no wish to let a stranger see the skeleton in the

-cupboard. But Robinette's quick instinct pierced through the veil of

-well-meant bravery and touched the truth.

-

-"Nurse dear," she said, "you say you're comfortable, and well off, but

-you won't mind my telling you that I just don't quite believe you."

-

-"Oh, my dear heart, what's that you be sayin'? callin' of me a liar?"

-chuckled the old woman fondly.

-

-Robinette rose from her seat on the bench and stood back to

-scrutinize the cottage. It was exquisitely picturesque, but this

-very picturesqueness constituted its danger; for the place was a

-perfect death trap. The crumbling cob-walls that had taken on those

-wonderful patches of green colour, soaked in the damp like a sponge:

-the irregularity of the thatched roof that looked so well, admitted

-trickles of rain on wet nights; and the uneven mud floor of the

-kitchen revealed the fact that the cottage had been built without any

-proper foundation. The door did not fit, and in cold weather a

-knife-like draught must run in under it. All this Robinette's

-quick, practical glance took in; she gave a little nod or two,

-murmuring to herself, "A new thatch roof, a new door, a new cement

-floor." Then she came and sat down again.

-

-"Tell me now, how much do you have to live on every week, Nurse?" she

-asked.

-

-"Oh, Miss Robinette--ma'am, I should say--'t is wonderful how I gets

-on; and then there's the plum tree--just see the flourish on it,

-Missie dear! 'T will have a crop o' plums come autumn will about drag

-down the boughs! I don't know how 't would be with me without I had

-the plum tree."

-

-"Do you really make something by it?" Robinette asked.

-

-The old woman chuckled again. "To be sure I makes; makes jam every

-autumn; a sight o' jam. Come inside again, me dear, an' see me jam

-cupboard and you'll know."

-

-She hobbled into the kitchen, and opened the door of a wall press in

-the corner. There, row above row stood a solid phalanx of jam pots; it

-seemed as if a whole town might be supplied out of Mrs. Prettyman's

-cupboard.

-

-"'T is well thought of, me jam," the old woman said, grinning with

-pleasure. "I be very careful in the preparing of 'en; gets a penny the

-pound more for me jam than others, along of its being so fine."

-

-Robinette was charmed to see that here Mrs. Prettyman had a reliable

-source of income, however slender.

-

-"How much do you reckon to get from it every year?" she asked.

-

-"Going five pounds, dear: four pounds fifteen shillings and sixpence,

-last autumn; and please the Lord there's a better crop this season, so

-'t will be the clear five pounds. Oh! I do be loving me plum tree like

-a friend, I do."

-

-They turned back into the sunshine again, that Robinette should admire

-this wonderful tree-friend once more. She stood under its shadow with

-great delight, as the Bible says, gazing up through the intricate

-network of boughs and blossom to the cloudless blue above her.

-

-"It's heavenly, Nurse, just heavenly!" she sighed as she came and sat

-down beside the old woman again.

-

-"Then there's me duck too, Missie! Lard, now I don't know how I'd be

-without I had me duck. Duckie I calls 'er and Duckie she is; company

-she is, too, to me mornin's, with her 'Quack, Quack,' under the

-winder."

-

-So the old woman prattled on, giving Robinette all the history of her

-life, with its tiny joys and many struggles, till it seemed to the

-listener that she had always known Mrs. Prettyman, the plum tree, and

-her duck--known them and loved them, all three.

-

-

-

-

-VI

-

-MARK LAVENDAR

-

-

-Hundreds of years ago the street of Stoke Revel village, if street it

-could be called, and the tower of the ancient church, must have looked

-very much the same as now.

-

-On such a day, when the oak woods were budding, and the English birds

-singing, and the spring sun was hot in a clear sky, a knight riding

-down the steep lane would have taken the same turn to the left on his

-way to the Manor. Were he a young man, he would probably have reined

-up his horse for a moment, and looked, as Mark Lavendar did now, at

-the blithe landscape before him. Only then the accessories would have

-been so different: the great horse, somewhat tired by long hours of

-riding, the armour that glinted in the sun, the casque pushed up to

-let the fresh air play upon the rider's face; such a figure must have

-often stood just at that turn where the lane wound up the little hill.

-The landscape was the same, and young men in all ages are very much

-the same, so--although this one had merely arrived by train, and

-walked from the nearest station--Mark Lavendar stopped and leaned over

-the low wall when he came to the turn of the road, and looked down at

-the river.

-

-He boasted no war horse nor armour; none of the trappings of the older

-world added to his distinction, and yet he was a very pleasing figure

-of a man.

-

-The gaunt brown face was quite hard and solemn in expression; ugly,

-but not commonplace, for as a friend once said of him, "His eyes seem

-to belong to another person." It was not this, but only that the eyes,

-blue as Saint Veronica's flower, showed suddenly a different aspect of

-the man, an unexpected tenderness that flatly contradicted the hard

-features of his face. He looked very nice when he laughed too, so

-that most people when they had found out the trick, tried to make him

-laugh as often as possible.

-

-"What a day! Heavens! what a lovely day," he said to himself as he

-leaned on the low wall. "I want to be courting Amaryllis somewhere in

-these woods, and instead I've got to go and talk business with that

-old woman;" and he looked ruefully towards the Manor House; for this

-was not his first visit by any means, and he knew only too well the

-hours of boredom that awaited him. Mrs. de Tracy, strange to say, had

-a soft side towards this young man, the son of her family solicitor.

-Mark was invariably sent down by his father when there was any

-business to be transacted at Stoke Revel. The older man was fond of a

-good dinner, and hated circumlocution about affairs, and it was only

-when a death in the family, or some other crucial event, made his

-presence absolutely necessary that he came down himself. Mark was

-sacrificed instead, and many a wearisome hour had he spent in that

-house. However on this occasion he had been glad enough to get out of

-London for a while; the country was divine, and even the de Tracy

-business did not occupy the whole day. There would be hours on the

-river; afternoons spent riding along those green lanes through which

-he had just passed, where the banks were starred with little vivid

-flowers. Mark had an almost childish delight in such beauty. He had

-loitered on the way along, flung himself down on a bank for a few

-minutes, and burying his face amongst the flowers, listened with a

-smile upon his mouth to the birds that chirruped in the branches of

-the oak above him.

-

-Now he leaned on the low wall, and gazed at the shining reaches of the

-river. "What a day!" he said to himself again. "What a divine

-afternoon"; then he added quite simply, "I wish I were in love;

-everyone under eighty ought to be, on such a day!"

-

-Even at the age of thirty most men of any personal attractions have

-some romantic memories. Lavendar had his share, but somehow that

-morning he was disconcertingly candid to himself. It may have been the

-sudden change from London air and London noise; something in the clear

-transparency of the April day, in the flute-like melody of the birds'

-song, in the dream-like beauty of the scene before him, that made all

-the moth and rust that had consumed the remembrances of the past more

-apparent. There was little of the treasure of heaven there,--it had

-mostly been nonsense or vanity or worse. He wanted, oh, how he wanted,

-to be able just for once to surrender himself to what was absolutely

-ideal; to have a memory when he was an old man, of something that had

-no fault in it.

-

-"No, I've never been really in love," he said to himself, "I may as

-well confess it; and I daresay I never shall be, but marry on an

-impulse like most men, make the best of it afterwards, and have a

-sort of middle-class happiness in the end of the day."

-

-"One, Two, Three," said the church clock from the ancient tower,

-booming out the note, and Lavendar started, and rubbed his hands

-across his dazzled eyes. "Luncheon is a late meal in that awful house,

-if I remember," he said, "but it must be over by this time. I really

-must go in. Let me collect my thoughts; the business is 'just things

-in general,' but especially the sale of some cottage or other and the

-land it stands on. Yes, yes, I remember; the papers are all right. Now

-for the old ladies."

-

-He made his entrance into the Manor drawing room a few minutes later

-with a charming smile.

-

-Mrs. de Tracy actually walked a few steps to meet him, with a greeting

-less frigid than usual.

-

-"I'm glad to see you, Mark," said she. "Bates said you preferred to

-walk from the station."

-

-Mark turned his kind eyes on Miss Smeardon, and held her knuckly hand

-in his own almost tenderly. It was a very bad habit, which had led to

-some mischief in the past, that when he was sorry for a thing he

-wanted to be very kind to it; and this made him unusually pleasing,

-and dangerous!

-

-"Business first and pleasure afterwards; excellent maxim!" he said to

-himself half an hour later, as he removed the dust of travel from his

-person, preparatory to an interview with Mrs. de Tracy. "Now for it!"

-

-He liked the drawing room at Stoke Revel and always wished it had

-other occupants when he entered it. This afternoon it seemed

-particularly agreeable, the open windows letting in the slanting

-sunshine and a strong scent of jonquils and sweet briar.

-

-"Well, Mrs. de Tracy," said Mark, "I am my father's spokesman, you

-know, and we have serious business to discuss. But tell me first,

-how's my young friend Carnaby?"

-

-"Thank you; my grandson has a severe attack of quinsy," replied Mrs.

-de Tracy. "He is to have sick-leave whenever the Endymion returns to

-Portsmouth."

-

-"Oh! Carnaby will make short work of an attack of quinsy," said

-Lavendar, genially.

-

-"It would please me better," retorted Mrs. de Tracy severely, "if my

-grandson showed signs of mental improvement as well as bodily health.

-His letters are ill-spelled, ill-written, and ill-expressed. They are

-the letters of a school-boy."

-

-"He is not much more than a school-boy, is he?" suggested Mark, "only

-fifteen! The mental improvement will come; too soon, for my taste. I

-like Carnaby as he is!"

-

-The young man had seated himself beside his hostess in an attitude of

-perfect ease. Though bored by his present environment, he was entirely

-at home in it. Just because he greatly dared towards her and was never

-afraid, Mrs. de Tracy liked him. With the mere flicker of an eyelid,

-she dismissed the attendant Smeardon.

-

-"There has been an offer for the land at Wittisham," Lavendar said,

-when they were alone.

-

-Mrs. de Tracy winced. "That is no matter of congratulation with me,"

-she said bleakly.

-

-"But it is with us, for it is a most excellent one!" returned the

-young man hardily. "The firm has had the responsibility of advising

-the sale, which we consider absolutely unavoidable in the present

-financial condition of Stoke Revel. We have advertised for a year, and

-advertisement is costly. Now comes an offer of a somewhat peculiar

-kind, but sound enough." Lavendar here produced a bundle of documents

-tied with the traditional red tape. "An artist," he continued,

-"Waller, R. A.--you know the name?"

-

-"I do not," interpolated Mrs. de Tracy grimly.

-

-"Nevertheless, a well known painter," persisted Mark, "and one, as it

-happens, of the orchard scenery of this part of England. He has known

-Wittisham for a long time, and only last year he made a success with

-the painting of a plum tree which grows in front of one of the

-cottages. It was sold for a large sum, and, as a matter of sentiment,

-I suppose, Waller wishes to buy the cottage and make it into a summer

-retreat or studio for himself."

-

-"He cannot buy it," said Mrs. de Tracy with the snort of a war horse.

-

-"He cannot buy it apart from the land," insinuated Mark, "but he is

-flush of cash and ready to buy the land too--very nearly as much as we

-want to sell, and the bargain merely waits your consent. The sum that

-has been agreed upon is of the kind that a man in the height of his

-triumph offers for a fancy article. No such sum will ever be offered

-for land at Wittisham again; old orchard land, falling into desuetude

-as it is and covered with condemned cottages."

-

-Mrs. de Tracy was sternly silent, and Mark awaited her next words with

-some curiosity. He felt like a torturer drawing the tooth of a Jew in

-the good old days. This sale of land was a bitter pill to the widow,

-as it well might be, for it was the beginning of the end, as the de

-Tracy solicitors could have told you. There had been de Tracys of

-Stoke Revel since Queen Elizabeth's time, but there would not be de

-Tracys of Stoke Revel much longer,--unless young Carnaby married an

-heiress when he came of age--and that no de Tracy had ever done.

-

-"The land across the river," Mrs. de Tracy said at last, "was the

-first land the de Tracys held, but much of it went at the Restoration.

-Well, let this go too!" she added harshly.

-

-Mark blessed himself that indecision was no part of the lady's

-character and sighed with relief. "My father would like to know," he

-said, "what you propose to do with regard to the old woman who is the

-present tenant of the cottage."

-

-"Elizabeth Prettyman is not a tenant," said Mrs. de Tracy coldly.

-"She is practically a pensioner, since she lives rent-free."

-

-"True, I forgot," said Mark soothingly. "I beg your pardon."

-

-"Do not suppose that it is by my wish," continued Mrs. de Tracy

-coldly. "I have never approved of supporting the peasantry in

-idleness. This woman happened to be for some years nurse to Cynthia de

-Tracy, my husband's younger sister, who deeply offended her family by

-marrying an American named Bean. I see no claim in that to a pension

-of any kind."

-

-"But your husband saw it, I imagine," interpolated Mark quietly, and

-Mrs. de Tracy gave him a fierce look, which he met, however, without a

-sign of flinching.

-

-"My husband had a mistaken idea that Prettyman was poor when she

-became a widow," said Mrs. de Tracy. "On the contrary she had

-relations quite well able to support her, I believe. I never cross the

-river, in these days, and the matter has escaped my memory, so that

-things have been left as they were."

-

-"No great loss," said Mark candidly, "since the cottage in its present

-state is utterly unfit for any tenant. As to Prettyman, is it your

-intention to give her notice to quit?"

-

-"Unquestionably, since the cottage is needed," answered Mrs. de Tracy.

-"She has occupied it too long as it is." The speaker's lips closed

-like a vice over the words.

-

-"God pity Elizabeth Prettyman!" ejaculated Lavendar to himself. "Might

-is Right still, apparently, at Stoke Revel!" Aloud he merely said, "A

-weak deference to public opinion was never a foible of yours, Mrs. de

-Tracy; but I think I would advise you to consider some question of

-compensation to Mrs. Prettyman for the loss of the cottage."

-

-"If you can show me that the woman has any legal claim upon the

-estate, I will consider the question, but not otherwise," said Mrs. de

-Tracy with such an air of finality that Lavendar was inclined to let

-the matter drop for the moment.

-

-"The firm," he said, "will communicate your wishes to Mrs. Prettyman

-by letter."

-

-"Prettyman cannot read," snapped Mrs. de Tracy. "She must be told, and

-the sooner the better."

-

-"Well, Mrs. de Tracy," said the young man with a short laugh,

-"provided it is not I who have to tell her, well and good. I warn you

-the task would not be to my taste unless compensation were offered

-her."

-

-Mrs. de Tracy's features hardened to a degree unusual even to her.

-

-"I am apparently less tender-hearted than you," she said sardonically.

-"I shall, if I think fit, deal with Prettyman in person." The subject

-was dropped, and Lavendar rose to leave the room, but Mrs. de Tracy

-detained him.

-

-"The Admiral's niece, Mrs. David Loring, is my guest at present," she

-said. "It happens that she has crossed the river to Wittisham and is

-paying a visit to Prettyman. I should be obliged, Mark, if you would

-row across and fetch her back, as by some misunderstanding, my servant

-has not waited for her. You are an oarsman, I know."

-

-The young man consented with alacrity. "I shall kill two birds with

-one stone," he said cheerfully, "I shall visit the famous plum tree

-cottage and see Mrs. Prettyman for myself; and I shall have the

-privilege of executing your commission as Mrs. Loring's escort. It

-sounds a very agreeable one!"

-

-"You have no time to lose," said Mrs. de Tracy with a glance at the

-clock.

-

-

-

-

-VII

-

-A CROSS-EXAMINATION

-

-

-Lavendar escaped from the house, where, even in the smoke-room, it

-seemed unregenerate to light a cigar, and took the path to the shore.

-

-"I wonder if one woman staying in a house full of men would find life

-as depressing as I do cooped up here under precisely opposite

-circumstances," he thought, as he made his way through the little

-churchyard. "It cannot be the atmosphere of femininity that bores me,

-however, for Mrs. de Tracy has a strongly masculine flavour and Miss

-Smeardon is as nearly neuter as a person can be."

-

-He took a couple of oars from the boat-house as he passed, and going

-to the little landing stage untied the boat and started for the

-farther shore.

-

-It was good to feel the water parting under his vigorous strokes and

-delightful to exert his strength after the hours of stifled irritation

-at the Manor. It was a bright, calm close of day, when in the rarefied

-evening air each sound began to acquire the sharpness that marks the

-hour. He could hear the rush of the waters behind the boat and the

-voices of the fishers farther up the stream. As he drew up to the bank

-and took in his oars the stillness was so great that you could have

-heard a pin fall, when suddenly from a tree above him a bird broke

-into one little finished song and then was still, as if it had uttered

-all it wished to say.

-

-"What a heavenly evening!" thought Lavendar, "and what a lovely spot!

-That must be the cottage just above me. Mrs. de Tracy said I should

-know it by the plum tree. Ah, there it is!" Tying up the boat he

-sprang up the steps and walked along the flagged path. The plum tree

-these last few days had begun to look its fairest. The blossoms did

-not yet conceal the leaves, but it was a very bower of beauty already.

-There was a little table spread for tea under its branches, and an old

-woman like thousands of old women in thousands of cottages all over

-England, was sitting behind it, precisely as if she had been a

-coloured illustration in a summer number of an English weekly. She was

-on the typical bench in the typical attitude, but instead of the

-typical old man in a clean smock frock who should have occupied the

-end of the bench, there sat beside her a distinctly lovely young

-woman. What struck Lavendar was the wealth of colour she brought into

-the picture: goldy brown hair, brown tweed dress, with a cape of blue

-cloth slipping off her shoulders, and a brown toque with a pert

-upstanding quill that seemed to express spirit and pluck, and a merry

-heart. His quick glance took in the little hands that held the

-withered old ones. Both heads were bowed and in the brown tweed lap

-was a child's shoe,--a wee, worn, fat shoe. Beside it lay an absurd

-bit of crumpled, tear-soaked embroidery that had been intended to do

-duty as a handkerchief but had evidently proved quite unseaworthy.

-

-Waddling about on the flags close to the little table was a large fat

-duck wearing a look of inexpressible greed. "_Quack, quack, quack_!"

-it said, waddling off angrily as Lavendar approached.

-

-At the sound of the duck's raucous voice both the women looked up.

-

-"Is this Mrs. Prettyman's cottage, ma'am?" Lavendar asked with his

-charming smile.

-

-"Yes, sir, 't is indeed, and who may you be, if I may be so bold as to

-ask?"

-

-"I'm Mr. Lavendar, Mrs. de Tracy's lawyer, Mrs. Prettyman. I'm come to

-do some business at Stoke Revel," he added, for the old face had

-clouded over, and Mrs. Prettyman's whole expression changed to one of

-timid mistrust. "I really was sent by Mrs. de Tracy," he went on,

-turning to Robinette, "to take you home; Mrs. Loring, isn't it?"

-

-"Yes, I am Mrs. Loring," she said, frankly holding out her hand to

-him. "I knew you were expected at Stoke Revel, but I sent the footman

-back myself. He spoils the scenery and the river altogether."

-

-"I've got a boat down there; Mrs. de Tracy doesn't quite like your

-taking the ferry; may I have the honour of rowing you across? My

-orders were to bring you back as soon as possible."

-

-"I'm blest if I hurry," was his unspoken comment as Robinette gaily

-agreed, and, having bidden good-bye to the old woman, with a quick

-caress that astonished him a good deal, she laid down the little shoe

-gently upon the bench, and turned to accompany him to the boat.

-

-The river was like a looking-glass; the air like balm. "We'll

-take some time getting across, against the tide," said Lavendar

-reflectively, as he resolved that the little voyage should be

-prolonged to its fullest possible extent. He was not going into

-the Manor a moment earlier than he could help, when this charming

-person was sitting opposite to him. So this was Mrs. Loring! How

-different from the stout middle-aged lady whom Mrs. de Tracy's

-words had conjured up when he set out to find her!

-

-"Old Mrs. Prettyman was my mother's nurse," Robinette remarked as

-Lavendar dipped his oars gently into the stream and began to row. "I

-went to see her feeling quite grown up, and she seemed to consider me

-still a child; I was feeling about four years old at the moment when

-you appeared and woke me to the real world again."

-

-She had dried her eyes now and had pulled her hat down so as to shade

-her face, but Lavendar could see the traces of her weeping, and the

-dear little ineffectual rag of a handkerchief was still in one hand.

-

-"What on earth was she crying about?" he thought, as with lowered eyes

-he rowed very slowly across, only just keeping the boat's head

-against the current, and glancing now and then at the young woman.

-

-Was it possible that this lovely person was going to be his

-fellow-guest in that dull house? "My word! but she's pretty! and what

-were the tears about ... and the little shoe? Did it belong to a child

-of her own? Can she be a widow, I wonder," said Lavendar to himself.

-

-"I often think," he said suddenly, raising his head, "that when two

-people meet for the first time as utter strangers to each other, they

-should be encouraged, not forbidden, to ask plain questions. It may be

-my legal training, but I'd like all conversation to begin in that way.

-As a child I was constantly reproved for my curiosity, especially when

-I once asked a touchy old gentleman, 'Which is your glass eye? The one

-that moves, or the one that stands still?'"

-

-The tears had dried, the hat was pushed back again, the young woman's

-face broke into an April smile that matched the day and the weather.

-

-"Oh, come, let us do it," she exclaimed. "I'd love to play it like a

-new game: we know nothing at all about each other, any more than if we

-had dropped from the moon into the boat together. Oh! do be quick!

-We've so little time; the river is quite narrow; who's to open the

-ball?"

-

-"I'll begin, by right of my profession; put the witness in the box,

-please.--What is your name, madam?"

-

-"Robinette Loring," she said demurely, clasping her hands on her knee,

-an almost childlike delight in the new game dimpling the corners of

-her mouth from time to time.

-

-"What is your age, madam?" Lavendar hesitated just for a moment before

-putting this question.

-

-"I refuse to answer; you must guess."

-

-"Contempt of Court--"

-

-"Well, go on; I'm twenty-two and six weeks."

-

-"Thank you, you are remarkably well preserved. I can hardly

-believe--those six-weeks! What nationality?"

-

-"American, of course, or half and half; with an English mother and

-American ideas."

-

-"Thank you. Where is your present place of residence?"

-

-"Stoke Revel Manor House."

-

-"What is the duration of the visit?"

-

-"Fixed at a month, but may be shortened at any time for bad

-behaviour."

-

-"Your purpose in coming to Stoke Revel?"

-

-"A Sentimental Journey, in search of fond relations."

-

-"Have you found these relations?"

-

-"I've found them; but the fondness is still to seek."

-

-"Have you left your family in America?"

-

-"I have no one belonging to me in the world," she answered simply, and

-her bright face clouded suddenly.

-

-There was a moment's rather embarrassed silence. "It's getting to be a

-sad game"; she said. "It's my turn now. I'll be the cross-examiner,

-but not having had your legal training, I'll tell you a few facts

-about this witness to begin with. He's a lawyer; I know that already.

-Your Christian name, sir?"

-

-"Mark."

-

-"Mark Lavendar. 'Mark the perfect man.' Where have I heard that; in

-Pope or in the Bible? Thank you; very good; your age is between thirty

-and thirty-five, with a strong probability that it is thirty-three. Am

-I right?"

-

-"Approximately, madam."

-

-"You are unmarried, for married men don't play games like this; they

-are too sedate."

-

-"You reassure me! Am I expected to acknowledge the truth of all your

-observations?"

-

-"You have only to answer my questions, sir."

-

-"I am unmarried, madam."

-

-"Your nationality?"

-

-"English of course. You don't count a French grandmother, I suppose?"

-

-Robinette clapped her hands. "Of course I do; it accounts for this

-game; it just makes all the difference.--Why have you come to Stoke

-Revel; couldn't you help it?"

-

-A twinkle passed from the blue eyes to the brown ones.

-

-"I am here on business connected with the estate."

-

-"For how long?"

-

-"An hour ago I thought all might be completed in a few days, but these

-affairs are sometimes unaccountably prolonged!" (Was there another

-twinkle? Robinette could hardly say.) They were half-way across the

-river now. She leaned over and looked at herself in the water for a

-moment.

-

-Lavendar rested on his oars, and began to rub the palms of his hands,

-smiling a little to himself as he bent his head.

-

-"Yours is an odd Christian name," he said. "I've never heard it

-before."

-

-"Then you haven't visited your National Gallery faithfully enough,"

-said Mrs. Loring. "Robinetta is one of the Sir Joshua pictures there,

-you know, and it was a great favourite of my mother's in her girlhood.

-Indeed she saved up her pin-money for nearly two years that she might

-have a good copy of it made to hang in her bedroom where she could

-look at it night and morning."

-

-"Then you were named after the picture?"

-

-"I was named from the memory of it," said Robinette, trailing her hand

-through the clear water. "Mother took nothing to America with her but

-my father's love (there was so much of that, it made up for all she

-left behind), so the picture was thousands of miles away when I was

-born. Mother told me that when I was first put into her arms she

-thought suddenly, as she saw my dark head, 'Here is my own Robinetta,

-in place of the one I left behind,' and fell asleep straight away,

-full of joy and content."

-

-"And they shortened the name to Robinette?"

-

-"I was christened properly enough," she answered. "It was the world

-that clipped my name's little wings; the world refuses to take me

-seriously; I can't think why, I'm sure; I never regarded _it_ as a

-joke."

-

-"A joke," said Lavendar reflectively; "it's a sort of grim one at

-times; and yet it's funny too," he said, suddenly raising his eyes.

-

-"Now that's the odd thing I was thinking as I looked at you just now,"

-Robinette said frankly. "You seem so deadly solemn until you look up

-and laugh--and then you _do_ laugh, you know. That's the French

-grandmother again! It was nice in her to marry your grandfather! It

-helped a lot!"

-

-He laughed then certainly, and so did she, and then pointed out to him

-that they were being slowly drifted out of their course, and that if

-he meant to get across to the landing-stage he must row a little

-harder.

-

-"I have met American women casually;" he said, bending to his oars,

-"but I have never known one well."

-

-"It's rather too bad to disturb the tranquillity of your impressions,"

-returned Mrs. Loring composedly.

-

-Lavendar looked up with another twinkle. She seemed to provoke

-twinkles; he did not realize he had so many in stock.

-

-"You mean American women are not painted in quite the right colours?"

-

-"I suppose black _is_ a colour?"

-

-"Oh! I see your point of view!" and Lavendar twinkled again.

-

-"I can tell you in five sentences exactly what you have heard about

-us. Will you say whether I am right? If you refuse I'll put you in the

-witness box and then you'll be forced to speak!"

-

-"Very well; proceed."

-

-"One: We are clever, good conversationalists, and as cold as

-icicles."

-

-"Yes."

-

-"Two: We dress beautifully and use extravagant means to compass our

-ends in this direction."

-

-"Yes."

-

-"Three: We keep our overworked husbands under strict discipline."

-

-"Yes! I say,--I don't like this game."

-

-"Neither do I, but it's very much played,--"

-

-"Four: We prefer hotels to home life and don't bring up our children

-well."

-

-"Yes."

-

-"Five: We interfere with the proper game laws by bagging English

-husbands instead of staying on our own preserves. That's about all, I

-think. Were not those rumours tolerably familiar to you in the

-ha'penny papers and their human counterparts?"

-

-Lavendar was so amused by this direct storming of his opinion that he

-could hardly keep his laughter within bounds. "I've heard one other

-criticism," he said, "that you were all pretty and all had small feet

-and hands! I am now able to declare that to be a base calumny and to

-hope that all the others will prove just as false!" Then Robinette

-laughed too; eyes, lips, cheeks! When Lavendar looked at her he wished

-that his father would keep him at Stoke Revel for a month.

-

-The sun was going down now, and the rising tide came swelling up from

-the sea, lifting itself and silently swelling the volume of the river,

-in a way that had something awful about it. The whole current of the

-great stream was against it, but behind was the force of the sea and

-so it filled and filled with hardly a ripple, as the heart is filled

-with a new desire. Up from the mouth of the river came a faint breeze

-bringing the taste of the ocean into the deeply wooded creeks. It had

-freshened into a little wind, as they drew up at the boat-house, that

-flapped Robinette's blue cape about her, and dyed the colour in her

-cheeks to a livelier tint. As they walked up the narrow pathway to the

-house a deep silence fell between them that neither attempted to

-break.

-

-At the top of the hill, she paused to take breath, and look across the

-river. It was half dark already there, on the other side in the deep

-shadow of the hill; and a lamp in the window of the cottage shone like

-a star beside the faintly green shape of the budding plum tree.

-

-As Robinette entered the door of the Manor House she took out her

-little gold-meshed purse and handed Mark Lavendar a penny.

-

-"It's none too much," she said, meeting his astonished gaze with a

-smile. "I should have had to pay it on the public ferry, and you were

-ever so much nicer than the footman!"

-

-Lavendar put the penny in his waistcoat pocket and has never spent it

-to this day. It is impossible to explain these things; one can only

-state them as facts. Another fact, too, that he suddenly remembered,

-when he went to his room, was, that the moment her personality touched

-his he was filled with curiosity about her. He had met hundreds of

-women and enjoyed their conversation, but seldom longed to know on the

-instant everything that had previously happened to them.

-

-

-

-

-VIII

-

-SUNDAY AT STOKE REVEL

-

-

-On Sundays, the Stoke Revel household was expected to appear at church

-in full strength, visitors included.

-

-"We meet in the hall punctually at a quarter to eleven," it was Miss

-Smeardon's duty to announce to strangers. "Mrs. de Tracy always

-prefers that the Stoke Revel guests should walk down together, as it

-sets a good example to the villagers."

-

-"What Nelson said about going to church with Lady Hamilton!" Lavendar

-had once commented, irrepressibly, but the allusion, rather

-fortunately, was lost upon Miss Smeardon. Mark began to picture the

-familiar Sunday scene to himself; Miss Smeardon in the hall at a

-quarter to eleven punctually, marshalling the church-goers; and Mrs.

-Loring,--she would be late of course, and come fluttering downstairs

-in some bewitching combination of flowery hat and floating scarf that

-no one had ever seen before. What a lover's opportunity in this

-lateness, thought the young man to himself; but one could enjoy a walk

-to church in charming company, though something less than a lover.

-

-It was Mrs. de Tracy's custom, on Sunday mornings, to precede her

-household by half an hour in going to the sanctuary. No infirmities of

-old age had invaded her iron constitution, and it was nothing to her

-to walk alone to the church of Stoke Revel, steep though the hill was

-which led down through the ancient village to the yet more ancient

-edifice at its foot. During this solitary interval, Mrs. de Tracy

-visited her husband's tomb, and no one knew, or dared, or cared to

-enquire, what motive encouraged this pious action in a character so

-devoid of tenderness and sentiment. Was it affection, was it duty, was

-it a mere form, a tribute to the greatness of an owner of Stoke

-Revel, such as a nation pays to a dead king? Who could tell?

-

-The graveyard of Stoke Revel owned a yew tree, so very, very old that

-the count of its years was lost and had become a fable or a fairy

-tale. It was twisted, gnarled, and low; and its long branches, which

-would have reached the ground, were upheld, like the arms of some

-dying patriarch, by supports, themselves old and moss-grown. Under the

-spreading of this ancient tree were graves, and from the carved,

-age-eaten porch of the church, a path led among them, under the green

-tunnel, out into the sunny space beyond it. The Admiral lay in a vault

-of which the door was at the side of the church, for no de Tracy, of

-course, could occupy a mere grave, like one of the common herd; and

-here walked the funereal figure of Mrs. de Tracy, fair weather or

-foul, nearly every Sunday in the year.

-

-In justice to Mrs. de Tracy, it must be made plain that with all her

-faults, small spite was not a part of her character. Yet to-day, her

-anger had been stirred by an incident so small that its very

-triviality annoyed her pride. It was Mark Lavendar's custom, when his

-visits to Stoke Revel included a Sunday, cheerfully to evade

-church-going. His Sundays in the country were few, he said, and he

-preferred to enjoy them in the temple of nature, generally taking a

-long walk before lunch. But to-day he had announced his intention of

-coming to service, and well Mrs. de Tracy, versed in men and in human

-nature, knew why. Robinette would be there, and Lavendar followed, as

-the bee follows a basket of flowers on a summer day. As Mrs. de Tracy,

-like the Stoic that she was, accepted all the inevitable facts of

-life,--birth, death, love, hate (she had known them all in her day),

-she accepted this one also. But in that atrophy of every feeling

-except bitterness, that atrophy which is perhaps the only real

-solitude, the only real old age, her animosity was stirred. It was as

-though a dead branch upon some living tree was angry with the spring

-for breathing on it. As she returned, herself unseen in the shadow of

-the yew tree, she saw Lavendar and Robinette enter together under the

-lych-gate, the figure of the young woman touched with sunlight and

-colour, her lips moving, and Lavendar smiling in answer. In the

-clashing of the bells--bells which shook the air, the earth, the

-ancient stones, the very nests upon the trees--their voices were

-inaudible, but in their faces was a young happiness and hope to which

-the solitary woman could not blind herself.

-

-Presently in the lukewarm air within, Robinette was finding the

-church's immemorial smell of prayer-books, hassocks, decaying wood,

-damp stones, matting, school-children, and altar flowers, a harmonious

-and suggestive one if not pleasant. What an ancient air it was, she

-thought; breathed and re-breathed by slow generations of Stoke

-Revellers during their sleepy devotions! The very light that entered

-through the dim stained glass seemed old and dusty, it had seen so

-much during so many hundred years, seen so much, and found out so many

-secrets! Soon the clashing of the bells ceased and upon the still

-reverberating silence there broke the small, snoring noises of a

-rather ineffectual organ, while the amiable curate, Rev. Tobias Finch,

-made his appearance, and the service began.

-

-Mrs. de Tracy had entered the pew first, naturally; Miss Smeardon sat

-next, then Robinetta. Lavendar occupied the pew in front, alone, and

-through her half-closed eyelids Robinetta could see the line of his

-lean cheek and bony temple. He had not wished to sit there at all and

-he was so unresigned as to be badly in need of the soothing influences

-of Morning Prayer. Robinetta was beginning to wonder dreamily what

-manner of man this really was, behind his plain face and non-committal

-manner, when the muffled slam of a door behind, startled her, followed

-as it was by a quick step upon the matted aisle. Then without further

-warning, a big, broad-shouldered boy, in the uniform of a British

-midshipman, thrust himself into the pew beside her, hot and breathless

-after running hard. Mrs. Loring guessed at once that this must be

-Carnaby de Tracy, the young hopeful and heir of Stoke Revel of whom

-Mr. Lavendar had so often spoken, but the startling and unconventional

-nature of his appearance was not at all what one expected in a member

-of his family. Robinette stole more than one look at him as the

-offertory went round; a robust boy with a square chin, a fair face

-burnt red by the sun, a rollicking eye and an impudent nose; not

-handsome certainly, indeed quite plain, but he looked honest and

-strong and clean, and Robinette's frolicsome youth was drawn to his,

-all ready for fun. Carnaby hitched about a good deal, dropped his

-hymn-book, moved the hassock, took out his handkerchief, and on

-discovering a huge hole, turned crimson.

-

-Service over, the congregation shuffled out into the sunshine, and

-Mrs. de Tracy, after a characteristically cool and disapproving

-recognition of her grandson, became occupied with villagers.

-Lavendar made known young Carnaby to Mrs. David Loring, but the

-midshipman's light grey eyes had discovered the pretty face without

-any assistance.

-

-"This lady is your American cousin, Carnaby," said Mark. "Did you know

-you had one?"

-

-"I don't think I did," answered the boy, "but it's never too late to

-mend!" He attempted a bow of finished grown-upness, failed somewhat,

-and melted at once into an engaging boyishness, under which his

-frank admiration of his new-found relative was not to be hidden. "I

-say, are you stopping at Stoke Revel?" he asked, as though the news

-were too good to be true. "Jolly! Hullo--" he broke off with

-animation as the cassocked figure of the Rev. Tobias Finch fluttered

-out from the porch--"here's old Toby! Watch Miss Smeardon now! She

-expects to catch him, you know, but he says he's going to be a

-celly--celly-what-d'you-call-'em?"

-

-"Celibate?" suggested Lavendar, with laughing eyes.

-

-"The very word, thank you!" said Carnaby. "Yes: a celibate. Not so

-easily nicked, good old Toby--you bet!"

-

-"Do the clergymen over here always dress like that?" inquired

-Robinetta, trying to suppress a tendency to laugh at his slang.

-

-"Cassock?" said Carnaby. "Toby wouldn't be seen without it. High, you

-know! Bicycles in it. Fact! Goes to bed in it, I believe."

-

-"Carnaby, Carnaby! Come away!" said Lavendar. "Restrain these flights

-of imagination! Don't you see how they shock Mrs. Loring?"

-

-Before the Manor was reached, Robinetta and Carnaby had sworn eternal

-friendship deeper than any cousinship, they both declared. They met

-upon a sort of platform of Stoke Revel, predestined to sympathy upon

-all its salient characteristics; two naughty children on a holiday.

-

-"Do you get enough to eat here?" asked Carnaby in a hollow whisper, in

-the drawing-room before lunch.

-

-"Of course I have enough, Middy," answered Robinetta with unconscious

-reservation. She had rejected "Carnaby" at once as a name quite

-impossible: he was "Middy" to her almost from the first moment of

-their acquaintance.

-

-"Enough?" he ejaculated, "_I_ don't! I'd never be fed if it weren't

-for old Bates and Mrs. Smith and Cooky." Bates was the butler, Mrs.

-Smith the housekeeper, and Cooky her satellite. "Nobody gets enough to

-eat in this house!" added Carnaby darkly, "except the dog."

-

-At the lunch-table, the antagonism natural between a hot-blooded

-impetuous boy and a grandmother such as Mrs. de Tracy became rather

-painfully apparent. He had already been hauled over the coals for his

-arrival on Sunday and his indecorous appearance in church after

-service had begun.

-

-"It does not appear to me that you are at all in need of sick-leave,"

-said Mrs. de Tracy suspiciously.

-

-Carnaby, sensitive for all his robustness, flushed hotly, and then

-became impertinent. "My pulse is twenty beats too quick still, after

-quinsy. If you don't believe the doctor, ma'am, it's not my fault."

-

-"Carnaby has committed indiscretions in the way of growing since I

-last saw him," Lavendar broke in hastily. "At sixteen one may easily

-outgrow one's strength!"

-

-"Indeed!" said Mrs. de Tracy, frigidly. The situation was saved by the

-behaviour of the lap-dog, which suddenly burst into a passion of

-barking and convulsive struggling in Miss Smeardon's arms. His enemy

-had come, and Carnaby had fifty ways of exasperating his grandmother's

-favourite, secrets between him and the bewildered dog. Rupert was a

-Prince Charles of pedigree as unquestioned as his mistress's and an

-appearance dating back to Vandyke, but Carnaby always addressed him as

-"Lord Roberts," for reasons of his own. It annoyed his grandmother and

-it infuriated the dog, who took it for a deadly insult.

-

-"Lord Roberts! Bobs, old man, hi! hi!" Carnaby had but to say the

-words to make the little dog convulsive. He said them now, and the

-results seemed likely to be fatal to a dropsical animal so soon after

-a full meal.

-

-"You'll kill him!" whispered Robinette as they left the dining room.

-

-"I mean to!" was the calm reply. "I'd like to wring old Smeardon's

-neck too!" but the broad good humour of the rosy face, the twinkling

-eyes, belied these truculent words. In spite of infinite powers of

-mischief, there was not an ounce of vindictiveness in Carnaby de

-Tracy, though there might be other qualities difficult to deal with.

-

-"There's a man to be made there--or to be marred!" said Robinette to

-herself.

-

-

-

-

-IX

-

-POINTS OF VIEW

-

-

-Evenings at Stoke Revel were of a dullness all too deep to be sounded

-and too closely hedged in by tradition and observance to be evaded or

-shortened by the boldest visitor. Lavendar and the boy would have

-prolonged their respite in the smoking room had they dared, but in

-these later days Lavendar found he wished to be below on guard. The

-thought of Robinette alone between the two women downstairs made him

-uneasy. It was as though some bird of bright plumage had strayed into

-a barnyard to be pecked at by hens. Not but what he realised that this

-particular bird had a spirit of her own, and plenty of courage, but no

-man with even a prospective interest in a pretty woman, likes to think

-of the object of his admiration as thoroughly well able to look after

-herself. She must needs have a protector, and the heaven-sent one is

-himself.

-

-He had to take up arms in her defense on this, the first night of his

-arrival. Mrs. Loring had gone up to her room for some photographs of

-her house in America, and as she flitted through the door her scarf

-caught on the knob, and he had been obliged to extricate it. He had

-known her exactly four hours, and although he was unconscious of it,

-his heart was being pulled along the passage and up the stairway at

-the tail-end of that wisp of chiffon, while he listened to her

-retreating footsteps. Closing the door he came back to Mrs. de Tracy's

-side.

-

-"Her dress is indecorous for a widow," said that lady severely.

-

-"Oh, I don't see that," replied Lavendar. "She is in reality only a

-girl, and her widowhood has already lasted two years, you say."

-

-"Once a widow always a widow," returned Mrs. de Tracy sententiously,

-with a self-respecting glance at her own cap and the half-dozen dull

-jet ornaments she affected. Lavendar laughed outright, but she rather

-liked his laughter: it made her think herself witty. Once he had told

-her she was "delicious," and she had never forgotten it.

-

-"That's going pretty far, my dear lady," he replied. "Not all women

-are so faithful to a memory as you. I understand Americans don't wear

-weeds, and to me her blue cape is a delightful note in the landscape.

-Her dresses are conventional and proper, and I fancy she cannot

-express herself without a bit of colour."

-

-"The object of clothing, Mark, is to cover and to protect yourself,

-not to express yourself," said Mrs. de Tracy bitingly.

-

-"The thought of wearing anything bright always makes me shrink,"

-remarked Miss Smeardon, who had never apparently observed the tip of

-her own nose, "but some persons are less sensitive on these points

-than others."

-

-Mrs. de Tracy bowed an approving assent to this. "A widow's only

-concern should be to refrain from attracting notice," she said, as

-though quoting from a private book of proverbial philosophy soon to be

-published.

-

-"Then Mrs. Loring might as well have burned herself on her husband's

-funeral pyre, Hindoo fashion!" argued Lavendar. "A woman's life hasn't

-ended at two and twenty. It's hardly begun, and I fear the lady in

-question will arouse attention whatever she wears."

-

-"Would she be called attractive?" asked Mrs. de Tracy with surprise.

-

-"Oh, yes, without a doubt!"

-

-"In gentlemen's eyes, I suppose you mean?" said Miss Smeardon.

-

-"Yes, in gentlemen's eyes," answered Lavendar, firmly. "Those of women

-are apparently furnished with different lenses. But here comes the

-fair object of our discussion, so we must decide it later on."

-

-The question of ancestors, a favourite one at Stoke Revel, came up in

-the course of the next evening's conversation, and Lavendar found

-Robinette a trifle flushed but smiling under a double fire of

-questions from Mrs. de Tracy and her companion. Mrs. de Tracy was in

-her usual chair, knitting; Miss Smeardon sat by the table with a piece

-of fancy-work; Robinette had pulled a foot-stool to the hearthrug and

-sat as near the flames as she conveniently could. She shielded her

-face with the last copy of _Punch_, and let her shoulders bask in the

-warmth of the fire, which made flickering shadows on her creamy neck.

-Her white skirts swept softly round her feet, and her favourite

-turquoise scarf made a note of colour in her lap. She was one of those

-women who, without positive beauty, always make pictures of

-themselves.

-

-Lavendar analyzed her looks as he joined the circle, pretending to

-read. "She isn't posing," he thought, "but she ought to be painted.

-She ought always to be painted, each time one sees her, for

-everything about her suggests a portrait. That blue ribbon in her hair

-is fairly distracting! What the dickens is the reason one wants to

-look at her all the time! I've seen far handsomer women!"

-

-"Do you use Burke and Debrett in your country, Mrs. Loring?" Miss

-Smeardon was enquiring politely, as she laid down one red volume after

-the other, having ascertained the complete family tree of a lady who

-had called that afternoon.

-

-Robinette smiled. "I'm afraid we've nothing but telephone or business

-directories, social registers, and 'Who's Who,' in America," she

-said.

-

-"You are not interested in questions of genealogy, I suppose?" asked

-Mrs. de Tracy pityingly.

-

-"I can hardly say that. But I think perhaps that we are more occupied

-with the future than with the past."

-

-"That is natural," assented the lady of the Manor, "since you have so

-much more of it, haven't you? But the mixture of races in your

-country," she continued condescendingly, "must have made you

-indifferent to purity of strain."

-

-"I hope we are not wholly indifferent," said Robinette, as though she

-were stopping to consider. "I think every serious-minded person must

-be proud to inherit fine qualities and to pass them on. Surely it

-isn't enough to give _old_ blood to the next generation--it must be

-_good_ blood. Yes! the right stock certainly means something to an

-American."

-

-"But if you've nothing that answers to Burke and Debrett, I don't see

-how you can find out anybody's pedigree," objected Miss Smeardon. Then

-with an air of innocent curiosity and a glance supposed to be arch,

-"Are the Red Indians, the Negroes, and the Chinese in your so-called

-directories?"

-

-"As many of them as are in business, or have won their way to any

-position among men no doubt are there, I suppose," answered Robinette

-straightforwardly. "I think we just guess at people's ancestry by the

-way they look, act, and speak," she continued musingly. "You can

-'guess' quite well if you are clever at it. No Indians or Chinese ever

-dine with me, Miss Smeardon, though I'd rather like a peaceful Indian

-at dinner for a change; but I expect he'd find me very dull and

-uneventful!"

-

-"Dull!--that's a word I very often hear on American lips," broke in

-Lavendar as he looked over the top of Henry Newbolt's poems. "I

-believe being dull is thought a criminal offence in your country. Now,

-isn't there some danger involved in this fear of dullness?"

-

-"I shouldn't wonder," Robinette answered thoughtfully, looking into

-the fire. "Yes; I dare say there is, but I'm afraid there are social

-and mental dangers involved in _not_ being afraid of it, too!" Her

-mischievous eyes swept the room, with Mrs. de Tracy's solemn figure

-and Miss Smeardon's for its bright ornaments. "The moment a person or

-a nation allows itself to be too dull, it ceases to be quite alive,

-doesn't it? But as to us Americans, Mr. Lavendar, bear with us for a

-few years, we are so ridiculously young! It is our growing time, and

-what you want in a young plant is growth, isn't it?"

-

-"Y-yes," Lavendar replied: then with a twinkle in his blue eyes he

-added: "Only somehow we don't like to hear a plant grow! It should

-manage to perform the operation quite silently, showing not processes

-but results. That's a counsel of perfection, perhaps, but don't slay

-me for plain-speaking, Mrs. Loring!"

-

-Robinette laughed. "I'll never slay you for saying anything so wise

-and true as that!" she said, and Lavendar, flushing under her praise,

-was charmed with her good humour.

-

-"America's a very large country, is it not?" enquired Miss Smeardon

-with her usual brilliancy. "What is its area?"

-

-"Bigger than England, but not as big as the British Empire!" suggested

-Carnaby, feeling the conversation was drifting into his ken.

-

-"It's just the size of the moon, I've heard!" said Robinette

-teasingly. "Does that throw any light on the question?"

-

-"Moonlight!" laughed Carnaby, much pleased with his own wit. "Ha! ha!

-That's the first joke I've made this holidays. _Moonlight!_ Jolly

-good!"

-

-"If you'd take a joke a little more in your stride, my son," said

-Lavendar, "we should be more impressed by your mental sparkles."

-

-"Straighten the sofa-cushions, Carnaby," said his grandmother, "and

-don't lounge. I missed the point of your so-called joke entirely. As

-to the size of a country or anything else, I have never understood

-that it affected its quality. In fruit or vegetables, for instance, it

-generally means coarseness and indifferent flavour." Miss Smeardon

-beamed at this palpable hit, but Mrs. Loring deprived the situation of

-its point by backing up Mrs. de Tracy heartily. She had no opinion of

-mere size, either, she declared.

-

-"You don't stand up for your country half enough," objected Carnaby to

-his cousin. ("Why don't you give the old cat beans?" was his

-supplement, _sotto voce_.)

-

-"Just attack some of my pet theories and convictions, Middy dear, if

-you wish to see me in a rage," said Robinette lightly, "but my motto

-will never be 'My country right or wrong.'"

-

-"Nor mine," agreed Lavendar. "I'm heartily with you there."

-

-"It's a great venture we're trying in America. I wish every one would

-try to look at it in that light," said Robinette with a slight flush

-of earnestness.

-

-"What do you mean by a venture?" asked Mrs. de Tracy.

-

-"The experiment we're making in democracy," answered Robinette. "It's

-fallen to us to try it, for of course it simply had to be tried. It

-is thrillingly interesting, whatever it may turn out, and I wish I

-might live to see the end of it. We are creating a race, Aunt de

-Tracy; think of that!"

-

-"It's as difficult for nations as for individuals to hit the happy

-medium," said Lavendar, stirring the fire. "Enterprise carried too far

-becomes vulgar hustling, while stability and conservatism often pass

-the coveted point of repose and degenerate into torpor."

-

-"This part of England seems to me singularly free from faults,"

-interposed Mrs. de Tracy in didactic tones. "We have a wonderful

-climate; more sunshine than in any part of the island, I believe. Our

-local society is singularly free from scandal. The clergy, if not

-quite as eloquent or profound as in London (and in my opinion it is

-the better for being neither) is strictly conscientious. We have no

-burglars or locusts or gnats or even midges, as I'm told they

-unfortunately have in Scotland, and our dinner-parties, though quiet

-and dignified, are never dull.... What is the matter, Robinetta?"

-

-"A sudden catch in my throat," said Robinette, struggling with some

-sort of vocal difficulty and avoiding Lavendar's eye. "Thank you," as

-he offered her a glass of water from the punctual and strictly

-temperate evening tray. "Don't look at me," she added under her

-voice.

-

-"Not for a million of money!" he whispered. Then he said aloud: "If I

-ever stand for Parliament, Mrs. Loring, I should like you to help me

-with my constituency!"

-

-The unruffled temper and sweet reasonableness of Robinette's answers

-to questions by no means always devoid of malice, had struck the young

-man very much, as he listened.

-

-"She is good!" he thought to himself. "Good and sweet and generous.

-Her loveliness is not only in her face; it is in her heart." And some

-favorite lines began to run in his head that night, with new

-conviction:--

-

-                 He that loves a rosy cheek,

-                   Or a coral lip admires,

-                 Or from star-like eyes doth seek

-                   Fuel to maintain his fires,--

-                 As old Time makes these decay,

-                   So his flames will waste away.

-

-                 But a smooth and steadfast mind,

-                   Gentle thoughts and calm desires,

-                 Hearts with equal love combined--

-

-but here Lavendar broke off with a laugh.

-

-"It's not come to that yet!" he thought. "I wonder if it ever will?"

-

-

-

-

-X

-

-A NEW KINSMAN

-

-

-Young Mrs. Loring was making her way slowly at Stoke Revel Manor, and

-Mrs. de Tracy, though never affectionate, treated her with a little

-less indifference as the days went on. "The Admiral's niece is a

-lady," she admitted to herself privately; "not perhaps the highest

-type of English lady; that, considering her mixed ancestry and

-American education, would be too much to expect; but in the broad,

-general meaning of the word, unmistakably a lady!"

-

-Mrs. Benson, though not melting outwardly as yet, held more lenient

-views still with regard to the American guest. Bates, the butler, was

-elderly, and severely Church of England; his knowledge of widows was

-confined to the type ably represented by his mistress and he regarded

-young Mrs. Loring as inclined to be "flighty." The footman, who was

-entirely under the butler's thumb in mundane matters, had fallen into

-the habit of sharing his opinions, and while agreeing in the general

-feeling of flightiness, declared boldly that the lady in question gave

-a certain "style" to the dinner-table that it had lacked before her

-advent.

-

-For a helpless victim, however, a slave bound in fetters of steel, one

-would have to know Cummins, the under housemaid, who lighted Mrs.

-Loring's fire night and morning. She was young, shy, country bred, and

-new to service. When Mrs. Benson sent her to the guest's room at eight

-o'clock on the morning after her arrival she stopped outside the door

-in a panic of fear.

-

-"Come in!" called a cheerful voice. "Come in!"

-

-Cummins entered, bearing her box with brush and cloth and kindlings.

-To her further embarrassment Mrs. Loring was sitting up in bed with an

-ermine coat on, over which her bright hair fell in picturesque

-disorder. She had brought the coat for theatre and opera, but as these

-attractions were lacking at Stoke Revel and as life there was, to her,

-one prolonged Polar expedition, with dashes farthest north morning and

-evening, she had diverted it to practical uses.

-

-"Make me a quick fire please, a big fire, a hot fire," she begged, "or

-I shall be late for breakfast; I never can step into that tin tub till

-the ice is melted."

-

-"There's no ice in it, ma'am," expostulated Cummins gently, with the

-voice of a wood dove.

-

-"You can't see it because you're English," said the strange lady, "but

-I can see it and feel it. Oh, you make _such_ a good fire! What is

-your name, please?"

-

-"Cummins, ma'am."

-

-"There's another Cummins downstairs, but she is tall and large. You

-shall be 'Little Cummins.'"

-

-Now every morning the shy maid palpitated outside the bedroom door,

-having given her modest knock; palpitated for fear it should be all a

-dream. But no, it was not! there would be a clear-voiced "Come in!"

-and then, as she entered; "Good morning, Little Cummins. I've been

-longing for you since daybreak!" A trifle later on it was, "Good

-Little Cummins bearing coals of comfort! Kind Little Cummins," and

-other strange and wonderful terms of praise, until Little Cummins felt

-herself consumed by a passion to which Mrs. de Tracy's coals became as

-less than naught unless they could be heaped on the altar of the

-beloved.

-

-So life went on at Stoke Revel, outwardly even and often dull, while

-in reality many subtle changes were taking place below the surface;

-changes slight in themselves but not without meaning.

-

-Robinette ran up to her room directly after breakfast one morning and

-pinned on her hat as she came downstairs. Mark Lavendar had gone to

-London for a few days, but even the dullness of breakfast-table

-conversation had not robbed her of her joy in the early sunshine, made

-more cheery by the prospect of a walk with Carnaby, with whom she was

-now fast friends.

-

-Carnaby looked at her beamingly as they stood together on the steps.

-"You're the best turned-out woman of my acquaintance," he said

-approvingly, with a laughable struggle for the tone of a middle-aged

-man of the world.

-

-"How many ladies of fashion do you know, my child?" enquired

-Robinetta, pulling on her gloves.

-

-"I see a lot of 'em off and on," Carnaby answered somewhat huffily,

-"and they don't call me a child either!"

-

-"Don't they? Then that's because they're timid and don't dare address

-a future Admiral as Infant-in-Arms! Come on, Middy dear, let's walk."

-

-Robinette wore a white serge dress and jacket, and her hat was a rough

-straw turned up saucily in two places with black owls' heads. Mrs.

-Benson and Little Cummins had looked at it curiously while Robinette

-was at breakfast.

-

-"'Tis black underneath and white on top, Mrs. Benson. 'Ow can that be?

-It looks as if one 'at 'ad been clapped on another!"

-

-"That's what it is, Cummins. It's a double hat; but they'll do

-anything in America. It's a double hat with two black owls' heads, and

-I'll wager they charged double price for it!"

-

-"She's a lovely beauty in anythink and everythink she wears," said

-Little Cummins loyally.

-

-"May I call you 'Cousin Robin'?" Carnaby asked as they walked along.

-"Robinette is such a long name."

-

-"Cousin Robin is very nice, I think," she answered. "As a matter

-of fact I ought to be your Aunt Robin; it would be much more

-appropriate."

-

-"Aunt be blowed!" ejaculated Carnaby.

-

-"You're very fond of making yourself out old, but it's no go! When I

-first heard you were a widow I thought you would be grandmother's

-age,--I say--do you think you will marry another time, Cousin Robin?"

-

-"That's a very leading question for a gentleman to put to a lady! Were

-you intending to ask me to wait for you, Middy dear?" asked Robinette,

-putting her arm in the boy's laughingly, quite unconscious of his

-mood.

-

-"I'd wait quick enough if you'd let me! I'd wait a lifetime! There

-never was anybody like you in the world!"

-

-The words were said half under the boy's breath and the emotion in his

-tone was a complete and disagreeable surprise. Here was something that

-must be nipped in the bud, instantly and courageously. Robinette

-dropped Carnaby's arm and said: "We'll talk that over at once, Middy

-dear, but first you shall race me to the top of the twisting path,

-down past the tulip beds, to the seat under the big ash tree.--Come

-on!"

-

-The two reached the tree in a moment, Carnaby sufficiently in advance

-to preserve his self-respect and with a colour heightened by something

-other than the exercise of running.

-

-"Sit down, first cousin once removed!" said Robinette. "Do you know

-the story of Sydney Smith, who wrote apologizing to somebody for not

-being able to come to dinner? 'The house is full of cousins,' he said;

-'would they were "once removed"!'"

-

-"It's no good telling me literary anecdotes!--You're not treating me

-fairly," said Carnaby sulkily.

-

-"I'm treating you exactly as you should be treated, Infant-in-Arms,"

-Robinette answered firmly. "Give me your two paws, and look me

-straight in the eye."

-

-Carnaby was no coward. His steel-grey eyes blazed as he met his

-cousin's look. "Carnaby dear, do you know what you are to me? You are

-my kinsman; my only male relation. I'm so fond of you already, don't

-spoil it! Think what you can be to me if you will. I am all alone in

-the world and when you grow a little older how I should like to depend

-upon you! I need affection; so do you, dear boy; can't I see how you

-are just starving for it? There is no reason in the world why we

-shouldn't be fond of each other! Oh! how grateful I should be to think

-of a strong young middy growing up to advise me and take me about! It

-was that kind of care and thought of me that was in your mind just

-now!"

-

-"You'll be marrying somebody one of these days," blurted Carnaby,

-wholly moved, but only half convinced. "Then you'll forget all about

-your 'kinsman.'"

-

-"I have no intention in that direction," said Robinette, "but if I

-change my mind I'll consult you first; how will that do?"

-

-"It wouldn't do any good," sighed the boy, "so I'd rather you

-wouldn't! You'd have your own way spite of everything a fellow could

-say against it!"

-

-There was a moment of embarrassment; then the silence was promptly

-broken by Robinette.

-

-"Well, Middy dear, are we the best of friends?" she asked, rising from

-the bench and putting out her hand.

-

-The lad took it and said all in a glow of chivalry, "You're the

-dearest, the best, and the prettiest cousin in the world! You don't

-mind my thinking you're the prettiest?"

-

-"Mind it? I delight in it! I shall come to your ship and pour out tea

-for you in my most fetching frock. Your friends will say: 'Who is that

-particularly agreeable lady, Carnaby?' And you, with swelling chest,

-will respond, 'That's my American cousin, Mrs. Loring. She's a nice

-creature; I'm glad you like her!'"

-

-Robinette's imitation of Carnaby's possible pomposity was so amusing

-and so clever that it drew a laugh from the boy in spite of himself.

-

-"Just let anyone try to call you a 'creature'!" he exclaimed. "He'd

-have me to reckon with! Oh! I am so tired of being a boy! The inside

-of me is all grown up and everybody keeps on looking at the outside

-and thinking I'm just the same as I always was!"

-

-"Dear old Middy, you're quite old enough to be my protector and that

-is what you shall be! Now shall we go in? I want you to stand near by

-while I ask your grandmother a favor."

-

-"She won't do it if she can help it," was Carnaby's succinct reply.

-

-"Oh, I am not sure! Where shall we find her,--in the library?"

-

-"Yes; come along! Get up your circulation; you'll need it!"

-

-"Aunt de Tracy, there is something at Stoke Revel I am very anxious to

-have if you will give it to me," said Robinette, as she came into the

-library a few minutes later.

-

-Mrs. de Tracy looked up from her knitting solemnly. "If it belongs to

-me, I shall no doubt be willing, as I know you would not ask for

-anything out of the common; but I own little here; nearly all is

-Carnaby's."

-

-"This was my mother's," said Robinette. "It is a picture hanging in

-the smoking room; one that was a great favorite of hers, called

-'Robinetta.' Her drawing-master found an Italian artist in London who

-went to the National Gallery and made a copy of the Sir Joshua

-picture, and I was named after it."

-

-"I wish your mother could have been a little less romantic," sighed

-Mrs. de Tracy. "There were such fine old family names she might have

-used: Marcia and Elspeth, and Rosamond and Winifred!"

-

-"I am sorry, Aunt de Tracy. If I had been consulted I believe I should

-have agreed with you. Perhaps when my mother was in America the family

-ties were not drawn as tightly as in the former years?"

-

-"If it was so, it was only natural," said the old lady. "However, if

-you ask Carnaby, and if the picture has no great value, I am sure he

-will wish you to have it, especially if you know it to have been your

-mother's property." Here Carnaby sauntered into the room. "That's all

-right, grandmother," he said, "I heard what you were saying; only I

-wish it was a real Sir Joshua we were giving Cousin Robin instead of a

-copy!"

-

-"Thank you, Carnaby dear, and thank you, too, Aunt de Tracy. You can't

-think how much it is to me to have this; it is a precious link between

-mother's girlhood, and mother, and me." So saying, she dropped a timid

-kiss upon Mrs. de Tracy's iron-grey hair, and left the room.

-

-"If she could live in England long enough to get over that excessive

-freedom of manner, your cousin would be quite a pleasing person, but I

-am afraid it goes too deep to be cured," Mrs. de Tracy remarked as she

-smoothed the hairs that might have been ruffled by Robinette's kiss.

-

-Carnaby made no reply. He was looking out into the garden and feeling

-half a boy, half a man, but wholly, though not very contentedly, a

-kinsman.

-

-

-

-

-XI

-

-THE SANDS AT WESTON

-

-

-"Thursday morning? Is it possible that this is Thursday morning? And I

-must run up to London on Saturday," said Lavendar to himself as he

-finished dressing by the open window. He looked up the day of the week

-in his calendar first, in order to make quite sure of the fact. Yes,

-there was no doubt at all that it was Thursday. His sense of time must

-have suffered some strange confusion; in one way it seemed only an

-hour ago that he had arrived from the clangour and darkness of London

-to the silence of the country, the cuckoos calling across the river

-between the wooded hills, and the April sunshine on the orchard trees;

-in another, years might have passed since the moment when he first saw

-Robinette Loring sitting under Mrs. Prettyman's plum tree.

-

-"Eight days have we spent together in this house, and yet since that

-time when we first crossed in the boat, I've never been more than half

-an hour alone with her," he thought. "There are only three other

-people in the house after all, but they seem to have the power of

-multiplying themselves like the loaves and fishes (only when they're

-not wanted) so that we're eternally in a crowd. That boy particularly!

-I like Carnaby, if he could get it into his thick head that his

-presence isn't always necessary; it must bother Mrs. Loring too; he's

-quite off his head about her if she only knew it. However, it's my

-last day very likely, and if I have to outwit Machiavelli I'll manage

-it somehow! Surely one lame old woman, and a torpid machine for

-knitting and writing notes like Miss Smeardon, can't want to be out of

-doors all day. Hang that boy, though! He'll come anywhere." Here he

-stopped and sat down suddenly at the dressing-table, covering his face

-with his hands in comic despair. "Mrs. Loring can't like it! She must

-be doing it on purpose, avoiding being alone with me because she sees

-I admire her," he sighed. "After all why should I ever suppose that I

-interest her as much as she does me?"

-

-No one could have told from Lavendar's face, when he appeared fresh

-and smiling at the breakfast table half an hour later, that he was

-hatching any deep-laid schemes.

-

-Robinette entered the dining room five minutes late, as usual, pretty

-as a pink, breathless with hurrying. She wore a white dress again,

-with one rose stuck at her waistband, "A little tribute from the

-gardener," she said, as she noticed Lavendar glance at it. She went

-rapidly around the table shaking hands, and gave Carnaby's red cheeks

-a pinch in passing that made Lavendar long to tweak the boy's ear.

-

-"Good morning, all!" she said cheerily, "and how is my first cousin

-once removed? Is he going to Weston with me this morning to buy

-hairpins?"

-

-"He is!" Carnaby answered joyfully, between mouthfuls of bacon and

-eggs. "He has been out of hairpins for a week."

-

-"Does he need tapes and buttons also?" asked Robinette, taking the

-piece of muffin from his hand and buttering it for herself; an act

-highly disapproved of by Mrs. de Tracy, who hurriedly requested Bates

-to pass the bread.

-

-"He needs everything you need," Carnaby said with heightened colour.

-

-"My hair is giving me a good deal of trouble, lately," remarked

-Lavendar, passing his hand over a thickly thatched head.

-

-"I have an excellent American tonic that I will give you after

-breakfast," said Robinette roguishly. "You need to apply it with a

-brush at ten, eleven, and twelve o'clock, sitting in the sun

-continuously between those hours so that the scalp may be well

-invigorated. Carnaby, will you buy me butter scotch and lemonade and

-oranges in Weston?"

-

-"I will, if Grandmother'll increase my allowance," said Carnaby

-malevolently, "for I need every penny I've got in hand for the

-hairpins."

-

-"I hope you are not hungry, Robinetta," said Mrs. de Tracy, "that you

-have to buy food in Weston."

-

-"No, indeed," said Robinette, "I was only longing to test Carnaby's

-generosity and educate him in buying trifles for pretty ladies."

-

-"He can probably be relied on to educate himself in that line when the

-time comes," Mrs. de Tracy remarked; "and now if you have all finished

-talking about hair, I will take up my breakfast again."

-

-"Oh, Aunt de Tracy, I am so sorry if it wasn't a nice subject, but I

-never thought. Anyway I only talked about hairpins; it was Mr.

-Lavendar who introduced hair into the conversation; wasn't it, Middy

-dear?"

-

-Lavendar thought he could have annihilated them both for their open

-comradeship, their obvious delight in each other's society. Was he to

-be put on the shelf like a dry old bachelor? Not he! He would

-circumvent them in some way or another, although the rôle of

-gooseberry was new to him.

-

-The two young people set off in high spirits, and Mrs. de Tracy and

-Miss Smeardon watched them as they walked down the avenue on their way

-to the station, their clasped hands swinging in a merry rhythm as they

-hummed a bit of the last popular song.

-

-"I hope Robinetta will not Americanize Carnaby," said Mrs. de Tracy.

-"He seems so foolishly elated, so feverishly gay all at once. Her

-manner is too informal; Carnaby requires constant repression."

-

-"Perhaps his temperature has not returned to normal since his attack

-of quinsy," Miss Smeardon observed, reassuringly.

-

-Meanwhile Lavendar sat in Admiral de Tracy's old smoking room for half

-an hour writing letters. Every time that he glanced up from his work,

-and he did so pretty often, his eyes fell on a picture that hung upon

-the opposite wall. It was the copy of Sir Joshua's "Robinetta" made

-long ago and just presented to its namesake.

-

-In the portrait the girl's hair was a still brighter gold; yet

-certainly there was a likeness somewhere about it, he thought; partly

-in the expression, partly in the broad low forehead, and the eyes that

-looked as if they were seeing fairies.

-

-Of course to his mind Mrs. Loring was a hundred times more lovely than

-Sir Joshua's famous girl with a robin. He felt very ill-used because

-Robinette and Carnaby had deliberately gone for an excursion without

-him and had left him toiling over business papers when they had gone

-off to enjoy themselves.

-

-How bright it was out there in the sunshine, to be sure! And why

-should it be Carnaby, not he, who was by this time walking along the

-sea front of Weston, and watching the breeze flutter Robinette's scarf

-and bring a brighter colour to her lips?

-

-There! the last words were written, and taking up his bunch of

-letters, watch in hand, he sought Mrs. de Tracy, and explained that he

-would bicycle to Weston and catch the London post himself.

-

-"I'll send William"--she began; but Lavendar hastily assured her that

-he should enjoy the ride, and hurried off in triumph. Miss Smeardon

-smiled an acid smile as she watched him go. "He has forgotten all

-about poor Miss Meredith, I suppose," she murmured. "Yet it was not so

-long ago that they were supposed to be all in all to each other!"

-

-"It was a foolish engagement, Miss Smeardon," said Mrs. de Tracy in a

-cold voice. "I never thought the girl was suited to Mark, and I

-understand that old Mr. Lavendar was relieved when the whole thing

-came to an end."

-

-"Quite so; certainly; no doubt Miss Meredith would never have made him

-happy," said Miss Smeardon at once, "though it is always more

-agreeable when the lady discovers the fact first. In this case she

-confessed openly that Mr. Lavendar broke her heart with his

-indifference."

-

-"She was an ill-bred young woman," said Mrs. de Tracy, as if the

-subject were now closed. "However, I hope that the son of my family

-solicitor would think it only proper to pay a certain amount of

-attention to the Admiral's niece, were she ever so obnoxious to him."

-

-Miss Smeardon made no audible reply, but her thoughts were to the

-effect that never was an obnoxious duty performed by any man with a

-better grace.

-

-The sea front at Weston was the most prosaic scene in the world, a

-long esplanade with an asphalt path running its full length, and ugly

-jerrybuilt houses glaring out upon it, a gimcrack pier with a

-gingerbread sort of band-stand and glass house at the end;--all that

-could have been done to ruin nature had been determinedly done there.

-But you cannot ruin a spring day, nor youth, nor the colour of the

-sea. Along the level shore, the placid waves swept and broke, and then

-gathered up their white skirts, and retreated to return with the same

-musical laugh. Children and dogs played about on the wet sands. The

-wind blew freshly and the sea stretched all one pure blue, till it met

-on the horizon with the bluer skies.

-

-Weston seemed to Lavendar a very fresh and delightful spot at

-that moment, although had he been in a different mood its sordidness

-only would have struck him. Yes, there they were in the distance;

-he knew Robinette's white dress and the figure of the boy beside

-her. Hang that boy! Were they really going to buy hairpins? If

-so, then a hair-dresser's he must find. Lavendar turned up the

-little street that led from the sea-front, scanning all the

-signs--Boots--Dairies--Vegetable shops--Heavens! were there

-nothing but vegetable and boot shops in Weston? Boots again. At last

-a Hairdresser; Lavendar stood in the doorway until he made sure

-that Robinette and the middy had turned in that direction, and

-then he boldly entered the shop.

-

-To his horror he found himself confronted by a smiling young woman,

-whose own very marvellous erection of hair made him think she must be

-used as an advertisement for the goods she supplied.

-

-In another moment Robinette and the boy would be upon him, and he must

-be found deep in fictitious business. He cast one agonized glance at

-the mysteries of the toilet that surrounded him on every side, then

-clearing his throat, he said modestly but firmly, that he wanted to

-buy a pair of curling tongs for a lady.

-

-"These are the thing if you wish a Marcel wave," was the reply, "but

-just for an ordinary crimp we sell a good many of the plain ones."

-

-"Yes, thank you. They will do; the lady--my sister, also wished--"

-

-"A little 'addition,' was it, sir?" she moved smilingly to a drawer.

-"A few pin curls are very easily adjusted, or would our guinea

-switch--"

-

-At this moment the boy and Robinette entered the shop. Lavendar was

-paying for the curling tongs, and not a muscle of his face relaxed.

-"Oh, here you are. I have just finished my business," he said, turning

-round, "I thought we might encounter one another somewhere!"

-

-Robinette and Carnaby exchanged knowing glances of which Lavendar was

-perfectly conscious, but he stood by while Mrs. Loring bought her

-hairpins, and Carnaby endeavoured to persuade her to invest in a few

-"pin curls." "Not an hour before it is absolutely necessary, Middy

-dear," she said; "then I shall bear it as bravely as I can. Come now,

-carry the hairpins for me, and let me take Mr. Lavendar out of this

-shop, or he will be tempted to buy more than he needs."

-

-"Oh, no!" Lavendar remarked pointedly. "I have what I came for!"

-

-"Don't forget your parcel," Carnaby exclaimed, darting after Lavendar

-as they went into the street. "You've left it on the counter."

-

-"How careless!" said Mark. "It was for my sister."

-

-"You never told me you had a sister," said Robinette, as they walked

-together, Lavendar wheeling his bicycle and Carnaby sulking behind

-them.

-

-"I am blessed with two; one married now; the other, my sister Amy,

-lives at home."

-

-"Well, you see, in spite of all our questions the first time we met,

-we really know very little about each other," she went on lightly. "It

-takes such a long time to get thoroughly acquainted in this country.

-Do they ever count you a friend if you do not know all their aunts and

-second cousins?"

-

-Lavendar laughed. "Willingly would I introduce you to my aunts and my

-uttermost cousins, and lay the map of my life before you, uneventful

-as it has been, if that would further our acquaintance."

-

-Even as he spoke a hateful memory darted into his thoughts, and he

-reddened to his temples, until Mrs. Loring wondered if she had said

-anything to annoy him.

-

-Some fortunate accident at this point ordered that Carnaby should

-meet a friend, another middy about his own age, and they set off

-together in quest of a third boy who was supposed to be in the near

-neighbourhood.

-

-As soon as the lads were out of sight Lavendar found the jests they

-had been bandying together die on his lips. "I'm going down deeper; I

-shall be out of my depth very soon," he thought to himself, as he

-walked in silence by Robinette's side.

-

-"Let us come down to the beach again; we can't go to the station for

-half an hour yet," she said. "I like to look out to sea, and realize

-that if I sailed long enough I could step off that pier, and arrive in

-America."

-

-They stood by the sea-wall together with the fresh wind playing on

-their faces. "Isn't it curious," said Robinette, "how instinctively

-one always turns to look at the sea; inland may be ever so lovely, but

-if the sea is there we generally look in that direction."

-

-"Because it is unbounded, like the future," said Lavendar. He was

-looking as he spoke at some children playing on the sands just

-beside them. There was a gallant little boy among them with a bare

-curly head, who refused help from older sisters and was toiling away

-at his sand castle, his whole soul in his work; throwing up

-spadefuls--tremendous ones for four years old--upon its ramparts,

-as if certain they could resist the advancing tide.

-

-"What a noble little fellow!" exclaimed Robinette, catching the

-direction of Lavendar's glance. "Isn't he splendid? toiling like that;

-stumping about on those fat brown legs!"

-

-"How beautiful to have a child like that, of one's own!" thought

-Lavendar as he looked. On the sands around them, there were numbers of

-such children playing there in the sun. It seemed a happy world to him

-at the moment.

-

-Suddenly he saw his companion turn quickly aside; a nurse in uniform

-came towards them pushing, not a happy crooning baby this time, but a

-little emaciated wisp of a child lying back wearily in a wheel chair.

-Something in Robinette's face, or perhaps the bit of fluttering lace

-she wore upon her white dress, had attracted its notice, and it

-stretched out two tiny skeleton hands towards her as it passed. With a

-quick gesture, brushing tears away that in a moment had rushed to her

-eyes, young Mrs. Loring stepped forward, and put her fingers into the

-wasted hands that were held out to her. She hung above the child for a

-moment, a radiant figure, her face shining with sympathy and a sort of

-heavenly kindness; her eyes the sweeter for their tears.

-

-"What is it, darling?" she asked. "Oh, it's the bright rose!" Then she

-hurriedly unfastened the flower from her waist-belt and turned to

-Lavendar. "Will you please take your penknife and scrape away all the

-little thorns," she asked.

-

-"The rose looked very charming where it was," he remarked, half

-regretfully, as he did what she commanded.

-

-"It will look better still, presently," she answered.

-

-The child's hands were outstretched longingly to grasp the flower, its

-eyes, unnaturally deep and wise with pain, were fixed upon Robinette's

-face. She bent over the chair, and her voice was like a dove's voice,

-Lavendar thought, as she spoke. Then the little melancholy carriage

-was wheeled away. Motherhood always seemed the most sacred, the

-supreme experience to Robinette; a thing high and beautiful like the

-topmost blooms of Nurse Prettyman's plum tree. "If one had to choose

-between that sturdy boy and this wistful wraith, it would be hard,"

-she thought. "All my pride would run out to the boy, but I could die

-for love and pity if this suffering baby were mine!"

-

-Lavendar had turned, and leaned on the wall with averted face. "Sweet

-woman!" he was saying to himself. "It is more than a merry heart that

-is able to give such sympathy; it's a sad old world after all where

-such things can be; but a woman like that can bring good out of

-evil."

-

-Robinette had seated herself on a low wall beside him. Her little

-embroidered futility of a handkerchief was in her hand once more. "A

-rose and a smile! that's all we could give it," she said; "and we

-would either of us share some of that burden if we only could." She

-watched the merry, healthy children playing beside them, and added,

-"After all let us comfort ourselves that brown cheeks and fat legs are

-in the majority. Rightness somehow or other must be at the root of

-things, or we shouldn't be a living world at all."

-

-"Amen," said Lavendar, "but the sight of suffering innocents like

-that, sometimes makes me wish I were dead."

-

-"Dead!" she echoed. "Why, it makes me wish for a hundred lives, a

-hundred hearts and hands to feel with and help with."

-

-"Ah, some women are made that way. My stepmother, the only mother I've

-known, was like that," Lavendar went on, dropping suddenly again into

-personal talk, as they had done before. He and she, it seemed, could

-not keep barriers between them very long; every hour they spent

-together brought them more strangely into knowledge of each other's

-past.

-

-"She was a fine woman," he went on, "with a certain comfortable

-breadth about her, of mind and body; and those large, warm, capable

-hands that seem so fitted to lift burdens."

-

-Lavendar was in an absent-minded mood, and never much given to noting

-details at any time. He bent over on the low wall in retrospective

-silence, looking at the blue sea before them.

-

-Robinette, who was perched beside him, spread her two small hands on

-her white serge knees and regarded them fixedly for a moment.

-

-"I wonder if it's a matter of size," she said after a moment. "I

-wonder! Let's be confidential. When I was a little girl we were not at

-all well-to-do, and my hands were very busy. My father's success came

-to him only two or three years before his death, when his reputation

-began to grow and his plans for great public buildings began to be

-accepted, so I was my mother's helper. We had but one servant, and I

-learned to make beds, to dust, to wipe dishes, to make tea and coffee,

-and to cook simple dishes. If Admiral de Tracy's sister had to work,

-Admiral de Tracy's niece was certainly going to help! Later on came my

-father's illness and death. We had plenty of servants then, but my

-hands had learned to be busy. I gave him his medicines, I changed his

-pillows, I opened his letters and answered such of them as were within

-my powers, I fanned him, I stroked his aching head. The end came, and

-mother and I had hardly begun to take hold of life again when her

-health failed. I wasn't enough for her; she needed father and her face

-was bent towards him. My hands were busy again for months, and they

-held my mother's when she died. Time went on. Then I began again to

-make a home out of a house; to use my strength and time as a good wife

-should, for the comfort of her husband; but oh! so faultily, for I was

-all too young and inexperienced. It was only for a few months, then

-death came into my life for the third time, and I was less than

-twenty. For the first time since I can remember, my hands are idle,

-but it will not be for long. I want them to be busy always. I want

-them to be full! I want them to be tired! I want them ready to do the

-tasks my head and heart suggest."

-

-Lavendar had a strong desire to take those same hands in his and kiss

-them, but instead he rose and spread out his own long brown fingers on

-the edge of the wall, a man's hands, fine and supple, but meant to

-work.

-

-"I seem to have done nothing," he exclaimed. "You look so young, so

-irresponsible, so like a bird on a bough, that I cannot associate dull

-care with you, yet you have lived more deeply than I. Life seems to

-have touched me on the shoulder and passed me by; these hands of mine

-have never done a real day's work, Mrs. Loring, for they've been the

-servants of an unwilling brain. I hated my own work as a younger man,

-and, though I hope I did not shirk it, I certainly did nothing that I

-could avoid." He paused, and went on slowly, "I've thought sometimes,

-of late I mean, that if life is to be worth much, if it is to be real

-life, and not mere existence, one must put one's whole heart into it,

-and that two people--" He stopped; he was silent with embarrassment,

-conscious of having said too much.

-

-"Can help each other. Indeed they can," Mrs. Loring went on serenely,

-"if they have the same ideals. Hardly anyone, fortunately, is so alone

-as I, and so I have to help myself! Your sisters, now; don't they

-help?"

-

-"Not a great deal," Lavendar confessed. "One would, but she's married

-and in India, worse luck! The other is--well, she's a candid sister."

-He laughed, and looked up. "If my best friend could hear my sister

-Amy's view of me, just have a little sketch of me by Amy without fear

-or favour, he, or she, would never have a very high opinion of me

-again, and I am not sure but that I should agree with her."

-

-"Nonsense! my dear friend," exclaimed Robinette in a maternal tone she

-sometimes affected,--a tone fairly agonizing to Mark Lavendar; "we

-should never belittle the stuff that's been put into us! My equipment

-isn't particularly large, but I am going to squeeze every ounce of

-power from it before I die."

-

-"Life is extraordinarily interesting to you, isn't it?"

-

-"Interesting? It is thrilling! So will it be to you when you make up

-your mind to squeeze it," said Robinette, jumping off the wall. "There

-is Carnaby signalling; it is time we went to the station."

-

-"Life would thrill me considerably more if Carnaby were not eternally

-in evidence," said Lavendar, but Robinette pretended not to hear.

-

-

-

-

-XII

-

-LOVE IN THE MUD

-

-

-The next day Robinette was once more sitting in the boat opposite to

-Lavendar as he rowed. They were going down the river this time, not

-across it. Somehow they had managed that afternoon to get out by

-themselves, which sounds very simple, but is a wonderfully difficult

-thing to accomplish when there is no special reason for it, and when

-there are several other people in the house.

-

-Fortunately Mrs. de Tracy did not like to be alone, so that wherever

-she went Miss Smeardon had to go too, and there happened to be a sale

-of work at a neighbouring vicarage that afternoon where she considered

-her presence a necessity. Robinette had vanished soon after luncheon

-and the middy had been dull, so after loitering around for a while, he

-too had disappeared upon some errand of his own. Lavendar walked very

-slowly toward the avenue gateway, then he turned and came back. He

-could scarcely believe his good fortune when he saw Mrs. Loring come

-out of the house, and pause at the door as if uncertain of her next

-movements. She looked uncommonly lovely in a white frock with touches

-of blue, while the ribbon in her hair brought out all its gold. She

-wore a flowery garden hat, and a pair of dainty most un-English shoes

-peeped from beneath her short skirt.

-

-"Are you going out, or can I take you on the river?" Lavendar asked,

-trying without much success to conceal the eagerness that showed in

-his voice and eyes.

-

-Robinette stood for a moment looking at him (it seemed as if she read

-him like a book) and then she said frankly, "Why yes, there is nothing

-I should like so much, but where is Carnaby?"

-

-"Hang Carnaby! I mean I don't know, or care. I've had too much of his

-society to-day to be pining for it now."

-

-"Well, he does chatter like a magpie, but I feel he must have such a

-dull time here with no one anywhere near his own age. Elderly as I am,

-I seem a bit nearer than Aunt de Tracy or Miss Smeardon. Aunt de

-Tracy, all the same, will never understand my relations with that boy,

-or with anyone else for that matter. I did try so hard," she went on,

-"when I first arrived, just to strike the right note with her, and

-I've missed it all the time, by that very fact, no doubt. I'm so

-unused to trying--at home."

-

-"You mean in America?"

-

-"Yes, of course; I don't try there at all, and yet my friends seem to

-understand me."

-

-"Does it seem to you that you could ever call England 'home'?"

-

-"I could not have believed that England would so sink into my heart,"

-she said, sitting down in the doorway and arranging the flowers on her

-hat. "During those first dull wet days when I was still a stranger,

-and when I looked out all the time at the dripping cedars, and felt

-whenever I opened my lips that I said the wrong thing, it seemed to me

-I should never be gay for an hour in this country; but the last

-enchanting sunny days have changed all that. I remember it's my

-mother's country, and if only I could have found a little affection

-waiting for me, all would have been perfect."

-

-"You may find it yet." Lavendar could not for the life of him help

-saying the words, but there was nothing in the tone in which he said

-them to make Robinette conscious of his meaning.

-

-"I'm afraid not," she sighed, thinking of Mrs. de Tracy's indifference.

-"I'm much more American than English, much more my father's daughter

-than the Admiral's niece; perhaps my aunt feels that instinctively. Now

-I must slip upstairs and change if we are going boating."

-

-"Never!" cried Lavendar. "If I don't snatch you this moment from the

-devouring crowd I shall lose you! I will keep you safe and dry, never

-fear, and we shall be back well before dark."

-

-They went down the river after leaving the little pier, passing the

-orchards heaped on the hillsides above Wittisham, and Lavendar wanted

-to row out to sea, but Robinette preferred the river; so he rowed

-nearer to the shore, where the current was less swift, and the boat

-rocked and drifted with scarcely a touch of the oars. They had talked

-for some time, and then a silence had fallen, which Robinette broke by

-saying, "I half wish you'd forsake the law and follow lines of lesser

-resistance, Mr. Lavendar. Do you know, you seem to me to be drifting,

-not rowing! I've been thinking ever since of what you said to me on

-the sands at Weston."

-

-"Ungrateful woman!" he exclaimed, trying to evade the subject, "when

-these two faithful arms have been at your service every day since we

-first met! Think of the pennies you would have taken from that tiny

-gold purse of yours for the public ferry! However, I know what you

-mean; I never met anyone so plain-spoken as you, Mrs. Robin; I haven't

-forgotten, I assure you!"

-

-"How about the candid sister? Isn't she plain-spoken?"

-

-"Oh, she attacks the outside of the cup and platter; you question

-motive power and ideals. Well, I confess I have less of the former

-than I ought, and more of the latter than I've ever used." Lavendar

-had rested on his oars now and was looking down, so that the twinkle

-of his eyes was lost. "I suppose I shall go on as I have done

-hitherto, doing my work in a sort of a way, and getting a certain

-amount of pleasure out of things,--unless--"

-

-"Oh, but that's not living!" she exclaimed; "that's only existing.

-Don't you remember:--

-

-                   It is not growing like a tree

-                   In bulk doth make man better be.

-

-It's really _living_ I mean, forgetting the things that are behind,

-and going on and on to something ahead, whatever one's aim may be."

-

-"What are you going to do with yourself, if I may ask?" said Lavendar.

-"Don't be too philanthropic, will you? You're so delightfully

-symmetrical now!"

-

-"I shall have plenty to do," cried Robinette ardently. "I've told you

-before, I have so much motive power that I don't know how to use it."

-

-"How about sharing a little of it with a friend!"

-

-Lavendar's voice was full of meaning, but Robinette refused to hear

-it. She had succumbed as quickly to his charm as he to hers, but while

-she still had command over her heart she did not intend parting with

-it unless she could give it wholly. She knew enough of her own nature

-to recognize that she longed for a rowing, not a drifting mate, and

-that nothing else would content her; but her instinct urged that

-Lavendar's indecisions and his uncertainties of aim were accidents

-rather than temperamental weaknesses. She suspected that his

-introspective moods and his occasional lack of spirits had a definite

-cause unknown to her.

-

-"I haven't a large income," she said, after a moment's silence,

-changing the subject arbitrarily, and thereby reducing her companion

-to a temporary state of silent rage.

-

-"Yet no one would expect a woman like this to fall like a ripe plum

-into a man's mouth," he thought presently; "she will drop only when

-she has quite made up her mind, and the bough will need a good deal of

-shaking!"

-

-"I haven't a large income," repeated Robinette, while Lavendar was

-silent, "only five thousand dollars a year, which is of course

-microscopic from the American standpoint and cost of living; so I

-can't build free libraries and swimming baths and playgrounds, or do

-any big splendid things; but I can do dear little nice ones, left

-undone by city governments and by the millionaires. I can sing, and

-read, and study; I can travel; and there are always people needing

-something wherever you are, if you have eyes to see them; one needn't

-live a useless life even if one hasn't any responsibilities. But"--she

-paused--"I've been talking all this time about my own plans and

-ambitions, and I began by asking yours! Isn't it strange that the

-moment one feels conscious of friendship, one begins to want to know

-things?"

-

-"My sister Amy would tell you I had no ambitions, except to buy as

-many books as I wish, and not to have to work too hard," said Mark

-smiling, "but I think that would not be quite true. I have some, of a

-dull inferior kind, not beautiful ones like yours."

-

-"Do tell me what they are."

-

-He shook his head. "I couldn't; they're not for show; shabby things

-like unsuccessful poor relations, who would rather not have too much

-notice taken of them. In a few weeks I am going to drag them out of

-their retreat, brighten them up, inject some poetry into their veins,

-and then display them to your critical judgment."

-

-They were almost at a standstill now and neither of them was noticing

-it at all. As Mrs. Loring moved her seat the boat lurched somewhat to

-one side. Mark, to steady her, placed his hand over hers as it rested

-on the rail, and she did not withdraw it. Then he found the other hand

-that lay upon her knee, and took it in his own, scarcely knowing what

-he did. He looked into her face and found no anger there. "I wish to

-tell you more about myself," he stammered, "something not altogether

-creditable to me; but perhaps you will understand. Perhaps even if you

-don't understand you will forgive."

-

-She drew her hands gently away from his grasp. "I shall try to

-understand, you may rely on that!" she said.

-

-"I'm not going to trouble you with any very dreadful confessions," he

-said, "only it's better to hear things directly from the people

-concerned, and you are sure to hear a wrong version sooner or

-later."--Then stopping suddenly he exclaimed, "Hullo! we're stuck, I

-declare! look at that!"

-

-Robinette turned and saw that their boat was now scarcely surrounded

-with water at all. On every side, as if the flanks of some great whale

-were upheaving from below, there appeared stretches of glistening mud.

-Just in front of them, where there still was a channel of water, was

-an upstanding rock. "Shall we row quickly there?" she cried. "Then

-perhaps we can get out and pull the boat to the other side, where

-there is more water. What has happened?"

-

-"Oh, something not unusual," said Lavendar grimly, "that I'm a fool,

-and the sea-tide has ebbed, as tides have been known to do before. I'm

-afraid a man doesn't watch tides when he has a companion like you! Now

-we're left high, but not at all dry, as you see, till the tide

-turns."

-

-By a swift stroke or two he managed to propel their craft as far as

-the rock. They scrambled up on it, and then he tried to haul the boat

-around the miniature islet; but the more he hauled, the quicker the

-water seemed to run away, and the deeper the wretched thing stuck in

-the mud. He jumped in again, and made an effort to push her off with

-an oar; meanwhile Robinette nearly fell off the rock in her efforts to

-get the head of the boat around towards the current again, and making

-a frantic plunge into the ooze, sank above her ankles in an instant.

-Lavendar caught hold of her and helped her to scramble back into the

-boat. "It's all right; only my skirt wet, and one shoe gone!" she

-panted. "Now, what are we to do?" She spread out her hands in dismay,

-and looked down at her draggled mud-stained skirt, her little feet,

-one shoeless and both covered with mud and slime. "What an object I

-shall be to meet Aunt de Tracy's eye, when, if ever, it does light on

-me again! Meanwhile it seems as if we might be here for some hours.

-The boat is just settling herself into the mud bank, like a rather

-tired fat old woman into an armchair, and pray, Mr. Lavendar, what do

-you propose to do? as Talleyrand said to the lady who told him she

-couldn't bear it."

-

-Lavendar looked about them; the main bed of the river was fifty yards

-away; between it and them was now only an expanse of mud.

-

-"It's perfectly hopeless," he said, "the best thing we can do is to

-beget some philosophy."

-

-"Which at any moment we would exchange for a foot of water," she

-interpolated.

-

-"We must just sit here and wait for the tide. Shall it be in the boat

-or on the rock?"

-

-"I don't see much difference, do you? Except that the passing boats,

-if there are any, might think it was a matter of choice to sit on a

-damp rock for two hours, but no one could think we wanted to sit in a

-boat in the mud."

-

-They landed on the rock for the second time. "For my part it's no

-great punishment," said Lavendar, when they settled themselves, "since

-the place is big enough for two and you're one of them!"

-

-"Wouldn't this be as good a stool of repentance from which to confess

-your faults as any?" asked Robinette, as she tucked her shoeless foot

-beneath her mud-stained skirt and made herself as comfortable as

-possible. "I'll even offer a return of confidence upon my own

-weaknesses, if I can find them, but at present only miles of virtue

-stretch behind me. Ugh! How the mud smells; quite penitential! Now:--

-

-            "What have you sought you should have shunned,

-            And into what new follies run?"

-

-"Oh, what a bad rhyme!" said Lavendar.

-

-"It's Pythagoras, any way," she explained.

-

-Then suddenly changing his tone, Lavendar went on. "This is not merely

-a jest, Mrs. Loring. Before you admit me really amongst the number of

-your friends I should like you to know that--to put it plainly--my

-own little world would tell you at the moment that I am a heartless

-jilt."

-

-"That is a very ugly expression, Mr. Lavendar, and I shall choose not

-to believe it, until you give me your own version of the story."

-

-"In one way I can give you no other; except that I was just fool

-enough to drift into an engagement with a woman whom I did not really

-love, and just not enough of a fool to make both of us miserable for

-life when I, all too late, found out my mistake."

-

-There passed before him at that moment other foolish blithe little

-loves, like faded flowers with the sweetness gone out of them. They

-had been so innocent, so fragile, so free from blame; all but the

-last; and this last it was that threatened to rise like a shadow

-perhaps, and defeat his winning the only woman he could ever love.

-

-Robinette stared at the stretches of ooze, and then stole a look at

-Mark Lavendar. "The idea of calling that man a jilt," she thought.

-"Look at his eyes; look at his mouth; listen to his voice; there is

-truth in them all. Oh for a sight of the girl he jilted! How much it

-would explain! No, not altogether, because the careless making of his

-engagement would have to be accounted for, as well as the breaking of

-it. Unless he did it merely to oblige her--and men are such idiots

-sometimes,--then he must have fancied he was in love with her. Perhaps

-he is continually troubled with those fancies. Nonsense! you believe

-in him, and you know you do." Then aloud she said, sympathetically,

-"I'm afraid we are apt to make these little experimental journeys in

-youth, when the heart is full of _wanderlust_. We start out on them so

-lightly, then they lead nowhere, and the walking back alone is

-wearisome and depressing."

-

-"My return journey was depressing enough at first," said Lavendar,

-"because the particular She was unkinder to me than I deserved even;

-but better counsels have prevailed and I shall soon be able to meet

-the reproachful gaze of stout matrons and sour spinsters more easily

-than I have for a year past; you see the two families were friends and

-each family had a large and interested connection!"

-

-"If the opinion of a comparative stranger is of any use to you," said

-Robinette, standing on the rock and scraping her stockinged foot free

-of mud, "_I_ believe in you, personally! You don't seem a bit 'jilty'

-to me! I'd let you marry my sister to-morrow and no questions asked!"

-

-"I didn't know you had a sister," cried Lavendar.

-

-"I haven't; that's only a figure of speech; just a phrase to show my

-confidence."

-

-"And isn't it ungrateful to be obliged to say I can't marry your

-sister, after you have given me permission to ask her!"

-

-"Not only ungrateful but unreasonable," said Robinette saucily,

-turning her head to look up the river and discovering from her point

-of vantage a moving object around the curve that led her to make

-hazardous remarks, knowing rescue was not far away. "What have you

-against my sister, pray?"

-

-"Very little!" he said daringly, knowing well that she held him in her

-hand, and could make him dumb or let him speak at any moment she

-desired. "Almost nothing! only that _she_ is not offering me _her_

-sister as a balm to my woes."

-

-"She _has_ no sister; she is an only child!--There! there!" cried

-Robinette, "the tide is coming up again, and the mud banks off in that

-direction are all covered with water! I see somebody in a boat, rowing

-towards us with superhuman energy. Oh! if I hadn't worn a white dress!

-It will _not_ come smooth; and my lovely French hat is ruined by the

-dampness! My one shoe shows how inappropriately I was shod, and

-whoever is coming will say it is because I am an American. He will

-never know you wouldn't let me go upstairs and dress properly."

-

-"It doesn't matter anyway," rejoined Mark, "because it is only Carnaby

-coming. You might know he would find us even if we were at the bottom

-of the river."

-

-

-

-

-XIII

-

-CARNABY TO THE RESCUE

-

-

-At Stoke Revel, in the meantime, the solemn rites of dinner had been

-inaugurated as usual by the sounding of the gong at seven o'clock.

-Mrs. de Tracy, Miss Smeardon, and Bates waited five minutes in silent

-resignation, then Carnaby came down and was scolded for being late,

-but there was no Robinette and no Lavendar.

-

-"Carnaby," said his grandmother, "do you know where Mark intended

-going this afternoon?"

-

-"No, I don't," said Carnaby, sulkily.

-

-"Your cousin Robinetta,"--with meaning,--"perhaps you know her

-whereabouts?"

-

-"Not I!" replied Carnaby with affected nonchalance. "I was ferreting

-with Wilson." He had ferreted perhaps for fifteen minutes and then

-spent the rest of the afternoon in solitary discontent, but he would

-not have owned it for the world.

-

-"Call Bates," commanded Mrs. de Tracy. Bates entered. "Do you know if

-Mr. Lavendar intended going any distance to-day? Did he leave any

-message?"

-

-"Mr. Lavendar, ma'am," said Bates, "Mr. Lavendar and Mrs. Loring they

-went out in the boat after tea. Mr. Lavendar asked William for the

-key, and William he went down and got out the oars and rudder,

-ma'am."

-

-"Does William know where they went?" asked Mrs. de Tracy in high

-displeasure. "Was it to Wittisham?"

-

-"No, ma'am, William says they went down stream. He thinks perhaps they

-were going to the Flag Rock, and he says the gentleman wouldn't have a

-hard pull, as the tide was going out. But Mr. Lavendar knows the river

-well, ma'am, as well as Mr. Carnaby here."

-

-"Then I conclude there is no immediate cause for anxiety," said Mrs.

-de Tracy with satire. "You can serve dinner, Bates; there seems no

-reason why we should fast as yet! However, Carnaby," she continued,

-"as the men cannot be spared at this hour, you had better go at once

-and see what has happened to our guests."

-

-"Right you are," cried Carnaby with the utmost alacrity. He was

-hungry, but the prospect of escape was better than food. He rushed

-away, and his boat was in mid-river before Mrs. de Tracy and Miss

-Smeardon had finished their tepid soup.

-

-A very slim young moon was just rising above the woods, but her tender

-light cast no shadows as yet, and there were no stars in the sky, for

-it was daylight still. The evening air was very fresh and cool; there

-was no wind, and the edges of the river were motionless and smooth,

-although in mid-stream the now in-coming tide clucked and swirled as

-it met the rush. Over at Wittisham one or two lights were beginning to

-twinkle, and there came drifting across the water a smell of wood

-smoke that suggested evening fires. Carnaby handled a boat well, for

-he had been born a sailor, as it were, and his long, powerful strokes

-took him along at a fine pace. But although he was going to look for

-Robinette and Mark, he was rather angry with both of them, and in no

-hurry. He rested on his oars indifferently and let the tide carry him

-up as it liked, while, with infinite zest, he unearthed a cigarette

-case from the recesses of his person, lit a cigarette, and smoked it

-coolly. Under Carnaby's apparent boyishness, there was a certain

-somewhat dangerous quality of precocity, which was stimulated rather

-than checked by his grandmother's repressive system. His smoking now

-was less the monkey-trick of a boy, than an act of slightly cynical

-defiance. He was no novice in the art, and smoked slowly and daintily,

-throwing back his head and blowing the smoke sometimes through his

-lips and sometimes through his nose. He looked for the moment older

-than his years, and a difficult young customer at that. His present

-sulky expression disappeared, however, under the influence of tobacco

-and adventure.

-

-"Where the dickens are they?" he began to wonder, pulling harder.

-

-A bend in the river presently solved the mystery. On a wide stretch of

-mud-bank, which the tide had left bare in going out, but was now

-beginning to cover again, a solitary boat was stranded.

-

-With this clue to guide him, Carnaby's bright eyes soon discovered the

-two dim forms in the distance.

-

-"Ahoy!" he shouted, and received a joyous answer. Robinette and Mark

-were the two derelicts, and their rescuer skimmed towards them with

-all his strength.

-

-He could get only within a few yards of the rock to which their boat

-was tied, and from that distance he surveyed them, expecting to find a

-dismal, ship-wrecked pair, very much ashamed of themselves and

-getting quite weary of each other. On the contrary the faces he could

-just distinguish in the uncertain light, were radiant, and Robinette's

-voice was as gay as ever he had heard it. He leaned upon his oars and

-looked at them with wonder.

-

-"Angel cousin!" cried Robinette. "Have you a little roast mutton about

-you somewhere, we are so hungry!"

-

-"You _are_ a pretty pair!" he remarked. "What have you been and

-done?"

-

-"We just went for a row after tea, Middy dear," said Robinette, "and

-look at the result."

-

-"You're not rowing now," observed Carnaby pointedly.

-

-"No," said Mark, "we gave up rowing when the water left us, Carnaby.

-Conversation is more interesting in the mud."

-

-"But how did you get here? I thought you were going to the Flag Rock?"

-demanded Carnaby.

-

-"Is there a Flag Rock, Middy dear? I didn't know," said Robinette

-innocently. "It shows we shouldn't go anywhere without our first

-cousin once removed. We just began to talk, here in the boat, and the

-water went away and left us." Then she laughed, and Mark laughed too,

-and Carnaby's look of unutterable scorn seemed to have no effect upon

-them. They might almost have been laughing at him, their mirth was so

-senseless, viewed in any other light.

-

-"It's nearly eight o'clock," he said solemnly. "Perhaps you can form

-some idea as to what grandmother's saying, and Bates."

-

-"Well, you're going to be our rescuer, Middy darling, so it doesn't

-matter," said Robinette. "Look! the water's coming up."

-

-But Carnaby seemed in no mood for waiting. He had taken off his boots,

-and rolled up his trousers above his knees.

-

-"I'd let Lavendar wade ashore the best way he could!" he said, "but I

-s'pose I've got to save you or there'd be a howl."

-

-"No one would howl any louder than you, dear, and you know it. Don't

-step in!" shrieked Robinette, "I've confided a shoe already to the

-river-mud! I just put my foot in a bit, to test it, and down the poor

-foot went and came up without its shoe. Oh, Middy dear, if your young

-life--"

-

-"Blow my young life!" retorted Carnaby. He was performing gymnastics

-on the edge of his boat, letting himself down and heaving himself up,

-by the strength of his arms. His legs were covered with mud.

-

-"No go!" he said. "It's as deep as the pit here; sometimes you can

-find a rock or a hard bit. We must just wait."

-

-They had not long to wait after all, for presently a rush of the tide

-sent the water swirling round the stranded boat, and carried Carnaby's

-craft to it.

-

-"Now it'll be all right," said he. "You push with the boat-hook, Mark,

-and I'll pull"; but it took a quarter of an hour's pushing and pulling

-to get the boat free of the mud.

-

-Except for the moon it would have been quite dark when the party

-reached the pier. They mounted the hill in some silence. It was

-difficult for Robinette to get along with her shoeless foot; Lavendar

-wanted to help her, but she demanded Carnaby's arm. He was sulking

-still. There was something he felt, but could not understand, in the

-subtle atmosphere of happiness by which the truant couple seemed to be

-surrounded; a something through which he could not reach; that seemed

-to put Robinette at a distance from him, although her shoulder touched

-his and her hand was on his arm. Growing pangs of his manhood assailed

-him, the male's jealousy of the other male. For the moment he hated

-Mark; Mark talking joyous nonsense in a way rather unlike himself, as

-if the night air had gone to his head.

-

-"I am glad you had the ferrets to amuse you this afternoon," said

-Robinette, in a propitiatory tone. "Ferrets are such darlings, aren't

-they, with their pink eyes?"

-

-"O! _darlings_," assented Carnaby derisively. "One of the darlings

-bit my finger to the bone, not that that's anything to you."

-

-"Oh! Middy dear, I am sorry!" cried Robinette. "I'd kiss the place to

-make it well, if we weren't in such a hurry!"

-

-Carnaby began to find that a dignified reserve of manner was very

-difficult to keep up. His grandmother could manage it, he reflected,

-but he would need some practice. When they came to a place where there

-were sharp stones strewn on the road, he became a mere boy again quite

-suddenly, and proposed a "queen's chair" for Robinette. And so he and

-Lavendar crossed hands, and one arm of Robinette encircled the boy's

-head, while the other just touched Lavendar's neck enough to be

-steadied by it. Their laughter frightened the sleepy birds that night.

-The demoralized remnant of a Bank Holiday party would have been,

-Lavendar observed, respectability itself in comparison with them; and

-certainly no such group had ever approached Stoke Revel before. They

-were to enter by a back door, and Carnaby was to introduce them to

-the housekeeper's room, where he undertook that Bates would feed them.

-Lavendar alone was to be ambassador to the drawing room.

-

-"The only one of us with a boot on each foot, of course we appoint him

-by a unanimous vote," said Robinette.

-

-But the chief thing that Carnaby remembered, after all, of that

-evening's adventure, was Robinette's sudden impulsive kiss as she bade

-him good-night, Lavendar standing by. She had never kissed him before,

-for all her cousinliness, but she just brushed his cool, round cheek

-to-night as if with a swan's-down puff.

-

-"That's a shabby thing to call a kiss!" said the embarrassed but

-exhilarated youth.

-

-"Stop growling, you young cub, and be grateful; half a loaf is better

-than no bread," was Lavendar's comment as he watched the draggled and

-muddy but still charming Robinette up the stairway.

-

-

-

-

-XIV

-

-THE EMPTY SHRINE

-

-

-Lavendar had discovered, much to his dismay, that he must return to

-London upon important business; it was even a matter of uncertainty

-whether his father could spare him again or would consent to his

-returning to Stoke Revel to conclude Mrs. de Tracy's arrangements

-about the sale of the land.

-

-Affairs of the heart are like thunderstorms; the atmosphere may

-sometimes seem charged with electricity, and yet circumstances, like a

-sudden wind that sweeps the clouds away before they break, may cause

-the lovers to drift apart. Or all in a moment may come thunder,

-lightning, and rain from a clear sky, and there is nothing that is apt

-to precipitate matters like an unexpected parting.

-

-When Lavendar announced that he had to leave Stoke Revel, two pairs

-of eyes, Miss Smeardon's and Carnaby's, instantly looked at Robinette

-to see how she received the news, but she only smiled at the moment.

-She was just beginning her breakfast, and like the famous Charlotte,

-"went on cutting bread and butter," without any sign of emotion.

-

-"Hurrah!" thought the boy. "Now we can have some fun, and I'll perhaps

-make her see that old Lavendar isn't the only companion in the

-world."

-

-"She minds," thought Miss Smeardon, "for she buttered that piece of

-bread on the one side a minute ago, and now she's just done it on the

-other--and eaten it too."

-

-"She doesn't care a bit," thought Lavendar. "She's not even changed

-colour; my going or staying is nothing to her; I needn't come back."

-

-He had made up his mind to return just the same, if it were at all

-possible, and he told Mrs. de Tracy so. She remarked graciously that

-he was a welcome guest at any time, and Carnaby, hearing this,

-pinched Lord Roberts till he howled like a fiend, and fled for comfort

-to his mistress's lap.

-

-"You little coward," said Carnaby, "you should be ashamed to bear the

-name of a hero."

-

-"I've mentioned to you before, Carnaby, I think, that I dislike that

-jest," said his grandmother, and Carnaby advancing to the injured

-beast said, "Yes, ma'am, and so does Bobs, doesn't he, Bobs?" reducing

-the lap-dog to paroxysms of fury. "Would it be any better if I called

-him _Kitchener_?" hissing the word into the animal's face. "Jealous,

-Bobs? Eh? _Kitchener_." This last word had a rasping sound that

-irritated the little creature more than ever; his teeth jibbered with

-anger, and Miss Smeardon had to offer him a saucer of cream before he

-could be calmed down enough for the rest of the party to hear

-themselves speak.

-

-"Had you nice letters this morning? Mine were very uninteresting,"

-Robinette remarked to Lavendar as they stood together at the doorway

-in the sunshine, while Carnaby chased the lap-dog round and round the

-lawn.

-

-"I had only two letters; one was from my sister Amy, the candid one!

-her letters are not generally exhilarating."

-

-"Oh, I know, home letters are usually enough to send one straight to

-bed with a headache! They never sound a note of hope from first to

-last; although if you had no home, but only a house, like me, with no

-one but a caretaker in it, you'd be very thankful to get them, doleful

-or not."

-

-"I doubt it," Mark answered, for Amy's letter seemed to be burning a

-hole in his pocket at that moment. He had skimmed it hurriedly

-through, but parts of it were already only too plain.

-

-When the others had gone into the house, he went off by himself, and

-jumping the low fence that divided the lawn from the fields beyond, he

-flung himself down under a tree to read it over again. Carnaby,

-spying him there, came rushing from the house, and was soon pouring

-out a tale of something that had happened somewhere, and throwing

-stones as he talked, at the birds circling about the ivied tower of

-the little church.

-

-The field was full of buttercups up to the very churchyard walls. "I

-must get away by myself for a bit," Lavendar thought. "That boy's

-chatter will drive me mad." At this point Carnaby's volatile attention

-was diverted by the sight of a gardener mounting a ladder to clear the

-sparrows' nests from the water chutes, and he jumped up in a twinkling

-to take his part in this new joy. Lavendar rose, and strolled off with

-his hands in his pockets and his bare head bent. The grass he walked

-in was a very Field of the Cloth of Gold. His shoes were gilded by the

-pollen from the buttercups, his eyes dazzled by their colour; it was a

-relief to pass through the stone archway that led into the little

-churchyard. To his spirit at that moment the chill was refreshing. He

-loitered about for a few minutes, and then seeing that the door was

-open, he entered the church, closing the door gently behind him.

-

-It was very quiet in there and even the chirping of the sparrows was

-softened into a faint twitter. Here at last was a place set apart, a

-moment of stillness when he might think things out by himself.

-

-He took out Amy's letter, smoothing it flat on the prayer books before

-him, and forced himself to read it through. The early paragraphs dealt

-with some small item of family news which in his present state of mind

-mattered to Lavendar no more than the distant chirruping of the birds,

-out there in the sunshine. "You seem determined to stay for some time

-at Stoke Revel," his sister wrote. "No doubt the pretty American is

-the attraction. She sounds charming from your description, but my dear

-man, that's all froth! How many times have I heard this sort of thing

-from you before! Remember I know everything about your former loves."

-

-"You _don't_, then," said Lavendar to himself. Down, down, down at the

-bottom of the well of the heart where truth lies, there is always some

-remembrance, generally a very little one, that can never be told to

-any confidant.

-

-"You will find out faults in Mrs. Loring presently, just like the rest

-of them," continued the pitiless writer. (Amy's handwriting was

-painfully distinct.) "I must tell you that at the Cowleys' the other

-day, I suddenly came face to face with Gertrude Meredith _and Dolly_!

-Dolly looks a good deal older already and fatter, I thought. I fear

-she is losing her looks, for her colour has become fixed, and she

-_will_ wear no collars still, although on a rather thick neck, it's

-not at all becoming. I spoke to her for about three minutes, as it was

-less awkward, when we met suddenly face to face like that. She laughed

-a good deal, and asked for you rather audaciously, I thought. They

-live near Winchester now, and since the Colonel's death are pretty

-badly off, Gertrude says. Dolly is going to Devonshire to stay with

-the Cowleys; you may meet her there any day, remember. It does seem

-incredible to me that a man of your discrimination could have been won

-by the obvious devotion of a girl like Dolly; but having given your

-word I almost think you would better have kept it, rather than suffer

-all this criticism from a host of mutual friends."

-

-Lavendar groaned aloud. He had a good memory, and with all too great

-distinctness did he now remember Dolly Meredith's laugh. How wretched

-it had all been; not a word had ever passed between them that had any

-value now. If he could have washed the thought of her forever from his

-memory, how greatly he would have rejoiced at that moment.

-

-Well, it was over; written down against him, that he had been what the

-world called a jilt and a fool; yes, certainly a fool, but not so

-great a one as to follow his folly to its ultimate conclusion, and tie

-himself for life to a woman he did not love.

-

-Lavendar was extraordinarily sensitive about the breaking of his

-engagement; partly because Miss Meredith herself, in her first rage,

-had avowed his responsibility for her blighted future, giving him no

-chance for chivalrous behaviour; partly because in all his transient

-love affairs he had easily tired of the women who inspired them. He

-seemed thirsty for love, but weary of it almost as soon as the draught

-reached his lips.

-

-And now had he a chance again?--or was it all to end in disappointment

-once more, in that cold disappointment of the heart that has received

-stones for bread? It was not entirely his own fault; he had expected

-much from life, and hitherto had received very little. But Robinette!

-

-"Let me find all her faults now," he said to himself, "or evermore

-keep silent; meantime I hope I am not concealing too many of my

-own."

-

-He tried to force himself into criticism; to look at her as a cold

-observer from the outside would have done; for that curious Border

-country of Love which he had entered has not an equable climate at

-all. It is fire and frost alternate; and criticism is either roused

-almost to a morbid pitch, or else the faculty is drugged, and nothing,

-not even the enumeration of a hundred foibles will awaken it for a

-time.

-

-When the cold fit had been upon him the evening before, Lavendar had

-said to himself that her manner was too free--that she had led him on

-too quickly; no, that expression was dishonourable and unjust; he

-repented it instantly; she had been too unself-conscious, too girlish,

-too unthinking, in what she said and did. "But she's a widow after

-all, though she's only two and twenty," he went on to himself. "Hang

-it! I wish she were not! If her heart were in her husband's grave I

-should be moaning at that; and because I see that it is not, I become

-critical. There's nothing quite perfect in life!"

-

-He had begun by noticing some little defects in her personal

-appearance, but he was long past that now; what did such trifles

-matter, here or there? Then he remembered all that he had heard said

-about American women. Did those pretty clothes of hers mean that she

-would be extravagant and selfish to obtain them? Could a young man

-with no great fortune offer her the luxury that was necessary to her?

-and even so, what changes come with time! He had a full realization of

-what the boredom of family life can be, when passion has grown stale.

-

-"At seventy, say, when I am palsied and she is old and fat, will

-romance be alive then? Will such feeling leave anything real behind it

-when it falls away, as the white blossoms on Mrs. Prettyman's plum

-tree will shrink and fall a fortnight hence?"

-

-He looked about him. On the walls of the little church were tablets

-with the de Tracy names; the names of her forefathers amongst them.

-Under his feet were other flags with names upon them too; and out

-there in the sunshine were the grave-stones of a hundred dead. How

-many of them had been happy in their loves?

-

-Not so many, he thought, if all were told, and why should he hope to

-be different? Yet surely this was a new feeling, a worthy one, at

-last. It was not for her charming person that he loved her; not

-because of her beauty and her gaiety only; but because he had seen in

-her something that gave a promise of completion to his own nature, the

-something that would satisfy not only his senses but his empty heart.

-

-He clenched his hands on the carved top of the old pew in front of

-him, which was fashioned into a laughing gnome with the body of a

-duck. "And if this should be all a dream," he asked himself again, "if

-this should all be false too! Good Lord!" he cried half aloud, "I

-want to be honest now! I want to find the truth. My whole life is on

-the throw this time!"

-

-There was a moment's silence after he had uttered the words. He got up

-and moved slowly down the aisle, opening the door, seeing again the

-meadow of buttercups, yellow as gold, and listening again to the

-sparrows chirruping in the sunshine outside.

-

-"I have been in that church a quarter of an hour," he said to himself,

-"and in trying to dive to the depths of myself and find out whether I

-was giving a woman all I had to give, I did not get time to consider

-that woman's probable answer, should I place my uninteresting life and

-liberty at her disposal."

-

-

-

-

-XV

-

-"NOW LUBIN IS AWAY"

-

-

-Lavendar made his adieux after luncheon and went off to London.

-"Good-bye for the present, Mrs. de Tracy; I shall be back on Wednesday

-probably, if I can arrange it," he said. "Good-bye, Mrs. Loring," and

-here he altered the phrase to "Shall I come back on Wednesday?" for

-his hostess had left the open door.

-

-There was no hesitation, but all too little sentiment, about

-Robinette's reply.

-

-"Wednesday, at the latest, are my orders," she answered merrily, and

-with the words ringing in his ears Lavendar took his departure.

-

-"Do you remember that this is the afternoon of the garden party at

-Revelsmere?" Mrs. de Tracy enquired, coming into the drawing room a

-few minutes later, where Mrs. Loring stood by the open window. She

-had allowed herself just five minutes of depression, staring out at

-the buttercup meadow. How black the rooks looked as they flew about it

-and how dreary everything was, now that Lavendar had gone! She was

-woman enough to be able to feel inwardly amused at her own absurdity,

-when she recognized that the ensuing three days seemed to stretch out

-into a limitless expanse of dullness. "The village seemed asleep or

-dead now Lubin was away!" Still, after all, it was an occasion for

-wearing a pretty frock, and she knew herself well enough to feel sure

-that the sight of a few of her fellow-creatures even pretending to

-enjoy themselves, would make her volatile spirits rise like the

-mercury in a thermometer on a hot day.

-

-Miss Smeardon was to be her companion, as Mrs. de Tracy had a headache

-that afternoon and was afraid of the heat, she said. "What heat?"

-Robinette had asked innocently, for in spite of the brilliant sunlight

-the wind blew from the east, keen as a knife. "I shall take a good

-wrap in the carriage in spite of this tropical temperature," she

-thought. Carnaby refused point blank to drive with them; he would

-bicycle to the party or else not go at all, so it was alone with Miss

-Smeardon that Robinette started in the heavy old landau behind the

-palsied horse.

-

-Miss Smeardon gave one glance at Mrs. Loring's dress, and Robinette

-gave one glance at Miss Smeardon's, each making her own comments.

-

-"That white cloth will go to the cleaner, I suppose, after one

-wearing, and as for that thing on her head with lilac wistaria

-drooping over the brim, it can't be meant as a covering, or a

-protection, either from sun or wind; it's nothing but an ornament!"

-Miss Smeardon commented; while to herself Robinette ejaculated,--

-

-"A penwiper, an old, much-used penwiper, is all that Miss Smeardon

-resembles in that black rag!"

-

-Carnaby, watching the start at the door, whistled in open admiration

-as Robinette came down the steps.

-

-"Well, well! we are got up to kill this afternoon; pity old Mark has

-just gone; but cheer up, Cousin Robin, there's always a curate on

-hand!"

-

-For once Robinette's ready tongue played her false, and a sense of

-loneliness overcame her at the sound of Lavendar's name. She gathered

-up her long white skirts and got into the carriage with as much

-dignity as she could muster, while Carnaby, his eyes twinkling with

-mischief, stood ready to shut the door after Miss Smeardon.

-

-"Hope you'll enjoy your drive," he jeered. "You'll need to hold on

-your hats. Bucephalus goes at such fiery speed that they'll be torn

-off your heads unless you do."

-

-"Middy dear, you're not the least amusing," said Robinette quite

-crossly, and with a lurch the carriage moved off.

-

-Miss Smeardon settled herself for conversation. "I'm afraid you will

-find me but a dull companion, Mrs. Loring," she said, glancing

-sideways at Robinette from under the brim of her mushroom hat.

-

-"Oh, you will be able to tell me who everyone is," said Robinette as

-cheerfully as she could.

-

-"I am no gossip," Miss Smeardon protested.

-

-"It isn't necessary to gossip, is it?--but I've a wholesome interest

-in my fellow creatures."

-

-"And it is well to know about people a little; when one comes among

-strangers as you do, Mrs. Loring; one can't be too careful--an

-American, particularly."

-

-Miss Smeardon's voice trailed off upon a note of insinuation; but

-Robinette took no notice of the remark. She did not seem to have

-anything to say, so Miss Smeardon took up another subject.

-

-"What a pity that Mr. Lavendar had to leave before this afternoon; he

-would have been such an addition to our party!"

-

-"Yes, wouldn't he?" Robinette agreed, though she carefully kept out of

-her voice the real passion of assent that was in her heart.

-

-"Mr. Lavendar is so agreeable, I always think," Miss Smeardon went on.

-"Everyone likes him; he almost carries his pleasant ways too far. I

-suppose that was how--" She paused, and added again, "Oh, but as I

-said, I never talk scandal!"

-

-"Do you think it's possible to be too pleasant?" Robinette remarked,

-stupidly enough, scarcely caring what she said.

-

-"Well, when it leads a poor girl to imagine that she is loved! I hear

-that Dolly Meredith is just heart-broken. The engagement kept on for

-quite a year, I believe, and then to break it off so heartlessly!--I

-was reminded of it all by coming here. Miss Meredith is a cousin of

-our hostess, and they met first at Revelsmere when they were quite

-young."

-

-"There is always a certain amount of talk when an engagement has to

-be broken off," said Robinette in a cold voice.

-

-"They seemed quite devoted at first," Miss Smeardon began; but

-Robinette interrupted her.

-

-"The sooner such things are forgotten the better, I think," she said.

-"No one, except the two people concerned, ever knows the real

-truth.--Tell me, Miss Smeardon, whom we are likely to meet at

-Revelsmere? Who is our hostess? What sort of parties does she give?"

-

-Being so firmly switched off from the affairs of Mr. Lavendar and Miss

-Meredith, it was impossible for Miss Smeardon to talk about them any

-more, and she had to turn to a less congenial theme.

-

-"We shall meet the neighbours," she told Robinette, "but I am afraid

-they may not interest you very much. I understand that in America you

-are accustomed to a great deal of the society of gentlemen. Here there

-are so few, and all of them are married."

-

-"All?" laughed Robinette.

-

-"Well, there is Mr. Finch, the curate, but he is a celibate; and young

-Mr. Tait of Strewe, but he is slightly paralysed."

-

-"Why, Carnaby must be quite an eligible bachelor in these parts," said

-Robinette; but Miss Smeardon was so deadly literal that she accepted

-the remark as a serious one.

-

-"Not quite yet; in a few years' time we shall need to be very careful,

-there are so many girls here, but not all of them desirable, of

-course."

-

-"There are? What a dull time they must have with the Married Men, the

-Celibate, the Paralytic, and Carnaby! I'm glad my girlhood wasn't

-spent in Devonshire."

-

-Conversation ended here, for the carriage rumbled up the avenue, and

-Robinette looked about her eagerly. Revelsmere was a nice old house,

-surrounded by fine sloping lawns and a background of sombre

-beechwoods. The lawns to-day were dotted with groups of people, mainly

-women, and elderly at that. As Robinette and Miss Smeardon alighted

-at the door an elderly hostess welcomed them, and an elderly host led

-them across the lawn and straightly they fell into the clutches of

-more and more elderlies.

-

-"It is fairly bewildering!" Robinette cried in her heart; then she saw

-a bevy of girls approaching; such nice-looking girls, happy, well

-dressed, but all unattended by their suitable complement of young

-men.

-

-"For whom do they dress, here? They've a deal of self-respect, I

-think, to go on getting themselves up so nicely for themselves and the

-Celibate, the Paralytic, and Carnaby," thought Robinette, as she

-watched them.

-

-Presently another couple came across the lawn; the young woman was by

-no means a girl, rather heavily built, with a high fixed colour. She

-was attended by a man. "Not the Celibate certainly," thought Mrs.

-Loring with a glance at his bullock-like figure, his thick neck, and

-glossy black hair, "nor the Paralytic; and it's not Carnaby. It must

-be a new arrival!"

-

-At that moment it began to rain, but nothing daunted, their hostess

-approached her, and saying pleasantly that she wished to introduce her

-to Miss Meredith, she left Robinette and the young woman standing

-together under a spreading tree, and took the gentleman away with

-her.

-

-The moment that she heard the name, Robinette realized who Miss

-Meredith was. They seated themselves side by side on a garden bench,

-and Miss Meredith remarked upon the heat, planting a rather fat hand

-upon the arm of the garden seat, and surveying it complacently,

-especially the very bright diamond ring upon the third finger.

-

-After a few preliminary remarks, she asked Mrs. Loring if she were

-stopping in the neighbourhood.

-

-"Yes, I am staying at Stoke Revel for a short time," Robinette

-replied; "Mrs. de Tracy is my aunt, or at least I am Admiral de

-Tracy's niece."

-

-Her companion did not seem to take the least interest in this part of

-the information, only when Stoke Revel was mentioned she looked around

-suddenly as if surprised.

-

-They talked upon indifferent subjects, while Robinette, as she watched

-Miss Meredith, was saying a good deal to herself, although she only

-spoke aloud about the weather and the Devonshire scenery.

-

-"I will be just, if I can't be generous," she thought. "She has (or

-she must once have had) a fine complexion. I dare say she is sincere

-enough; she may be sensible; she might be good-humoured,--when

-pleased."

-

-"There is going to be a shower," said Miss Meredith, "but I've nothing

-on to spoil," she added, glancing at Robinette's hat.

-

-Sitting there on the bench, hearing the spitting rain upon the water

-below them and watching the leaden mists that slowly gathered over the

-landscape, Robinette fell upon a moment of soul sickness very unusual

-to her. Miss Meredith too was silent, absorbed in her own thoughts.

-

-"If she had looked even a little different it would have been so much

-easier to explain," thought Robinette. Then suddenly she glanced up.

-She saw that her companion's face had softened, and changed. There was

-a look,--Robinette caught it just for one moment,--such as a proud

-angry child might have worn: sulky, hurt to the heart, but determined

-not to cry. Instantly a chord was struck in Robinette's soul. "She has

-suffered, anyway," she thought. "May I be forgiven for my harsh

-judgment!"

-

-With a shiver she drew her wrap about her shoulders, and Miss Meredith

-turned towards her. The expression Robinette had noticed passed from

-the high-coloured face and left it as before, self-complacent and

-slightly patronizing. "You seem to feel cold," she said. "I never do;

-which is rather unfortunate, as I'm just going out to India!"

-

-"Indeed? How soon are you going?"

-

-"In about six weeks. I'm just going to be married, and we sail

-directly afterwards," said Miss Meredith. "You saw Mr. Joyce, I think,

-when we came up together a few minutes ago?"

-

-A weight as if of a ton of lead was lifted from Robinette's heart as

-she spoke. She could scarcely refrain from jumping up to throw her

-arms about Dolly Meredith's neck and kiss her. As it was, she bubbled

-over with a kind of sympathetic interest that astonished the other

-woman. It is only too easy to lead an approaching bride to talk about

-her own affairs, for she can seldom take in the existence of even her

-nearest and dearest at such a time, and in a few minutes the two young

-women were deep in conversation. When a quarter of an hour later Miss

-Smeardon appeared to tell Robinette that they must be going, she

-looked up with a start at the sound of footsteps on the gravel path.

-"Oh, you are here, Mrs. Loring; we couldn't think where you had

-gone," said Miss Smeardon, acidly.

-

-"And here is Miss Meredith of all people!" she continued, "I thought

-you were sure to be on the tennis court, Miss Meredith; Mr. Joyce is

-playing now."

-

-"Oh, we have had such a delightful talk," said Dolly, so flushed with

-pleasure that Miss Smeardon gazed at her in astonishment.

-

-"If only I knew her well enough to send her a munificent wedding

-present! How I should love to do so; just to register my own joy,"

-said Robinette to herself. As it was she shook hands very warmly with

-Miss Meredith before they parted, and when half way across the lawn,

-looked back again, and waved her hand gaily. Miss Meredith was pacing

-the grass, and treading heavily beside her, with a very gallant air,

-was her bullock-like young man.

-

-"Mr. Joyce is quite wealthy," said Miss Smeardon. "I understand that

-he is an only son too, and will some day inherit a fine property.

-Miss Meredith is most fortunate, at her age and with her history."

-

-Robinette said nothing. She looked out at the glistening reaches of

-the river, now shining through the silver mist; at the fields yellow

-with buttercups, and the folds of the distant hills. As they drove up

-the lane to the house, the birds, refreshed by the rain, were singing

-like angels. In her heart too, something was singing as blithely as

-any bird amongst them all.

-

-"Sometimes, sometimes our mistakes do not come home to roost!" she

-thought, "but fly away and make nests elsewhere--rich nests in India

-too!"

-

-"How did you enjoy the party, Cousin Robin?" said Carnaby, who

-was waiting for them in the doorway. "I had a good tuck-in of

-strawberries. The ladies were a little young for my taste; just

-immature girls; no one under sixty, and rather frisky, don't you

-think? By the way did you see Number One and her millionaire?"

-

-"I don't know what you mean by Number One," said Robinette, haughtily,

-as she passed in at the door.

-

-"You will, when you're Number Two!" rejoined Carnaby, stooping to

-pinch Lord Roberts' tail till the hero yelped aloud.

-

-

-

-

-XVI

-

-TWO LETTERS

-

-

-Lavendar tore up his fourth sheet of paper and began afresh. "Dear

-Mrs. Loring." No, that would not do; he took another sheet, and began

-again:--

-

-"My dear Mrs. Loring,--Your commission for old Mrs. Prettyman has

-taken some little time to execute, for I had to go to two or three

-shops before finding a chair 'with green cushions, and a wide seat, so

-comfortable that it would almost act as an anæsthetic if her

-rheumatism happened to be bad, and yet quite suitable for a cottage

-room.' These were my orders, I think, and like all your orders they

-demand something better than the mere perfunctory observance. My own

-proportions differing a good deal from those of the old lady, it is

-still an open question whether what seemed comfortable to me will be

-quite the same to her. I can but hope so, and the chair will be

-dispatched at once.

-

-"London is noisy and dusty, and grimy and stuffy, and, to one man at

-least, very, very dull. A boat on Greenshaw ferry seems the only spot

-in the world where any gaiety is to be found. You can hear the cuckoos

-calling across the river as you read this, no doubt, and Carnaby is

-rendered happier than he deserves by being allowed to row you down to

-tell Mrs. Prettyman about the chair. I feel as if, like the Japanese,

-I could journey a hundred miles to worship that wonderful tree.--Don't

-let the blossoms fall until I come!

-

-"There seems a good deal of business to be done. My father unfortunately

-is no better, so he cannot come down to Stoke Revel, and I shall

-probably return upon Wednesday morning. A poem of Browning's runs in my

-head--something about three days--I can't quote exactly.

-

-"If my sister were writing this letter, she would say that I have been

-very hard to please, and uninterested in everything since I came home.

-Indeed it seems as if I were. London in this part of it, in hot

-weather, makes a man weary for green woods, a sliding river, and a

-Book of Verses underneath a Bough. Well, perhaps I shall have all of

-them by Wednesday afternoon. You will think I can do nothing but

-grumble. All the same, into what was the mere dull routine of

-uncongenial work before, your influence has come with a current of new

-energy; like the tide from the sea swelling up into the inland

-river.--I'm at it again! Rivers on the brain evidently.

-

-"I hope meanwhile that Carnaby behaves himself, and is not too much of

-a bore, and that England,--England in spring at least, is gaining a

-corner in your heart? Your mother called it home, remember. Yes, do

-try to remember that!

-

-"Did you go to the garden party? Did you walk? Did you drive? Did you

-like it? Who was there? Were you dull?"

-

-                  *       *       *       *       *

-

-There was a postscript:--

-

-"I have found the verse from Browning, 'So I shall see her in three

-days.'

-

-                                                               "M. L."

-

-                  *       *       *       *       *

-

-                                                       "Tuesday, 19th.

-

-"Dear Mr. Lavendar: First, many thanks for Nurse's armchair, which

-arrived in perfect order, and is a shining monument to your good

-taste. She does nothing but look at it, shrouding it when she retires

-to bed with an old table-cover, to protect it from the night air.

-

-"Whether she will ever make its acquaintance thoroughly enough to sit

-in it I do not know, but it will give her an enormous amount of

-pleasure. Perhaps her glow of pride in its possession does her as much

-good as the comfort she might take in its use.

-

-"Her 'rheumatics' are very painful just now, and I have a good deal to

-do with Duckie. You remember Duckie? I call her Mrs. Mackenzie, after

-that lady in The Newcomes who talked the Colonel to death. Mrs.

-Mackenzie is heavy, elderly, and strong-willed. I am acquainted with

-every bone, tendon, and sinew in her body, having to lift her into a

-coop behind the cottage where she will not wake Nurse at dawn with her

-eternal quacking. She has heretofore slept under Nurse's bedroom

-window and dislikes change of any kind. So lucky she has no offspring!

-I tremble to think of what maternal example might do in such a

-talkative family!

-

-"Stoke Revel is as it was and ever will be, world without end; only

-Aunt de Tracy is crosser than when you are here and life is not as

-gay, although Carnaby does his dear, cubbish best. If ever you

-desire your mental jewels to shine at their brightest; if ever you

-wish a tolerably good disposition to seem like that of an angel; if

-ever, in a fit of vanity, you would like to appear as a blend of

-Apollo, Lancelot, Demosthenes, Prince Charlie, Ajax, and Solomon,

-just fly to Stoke Revel and become part of the household. Assume

-nothing; simply appear, and the surroundings will do the rest; like

-the penny-in-the-slot arrangements. Seen upon a background of Bates,

-William, Benson, Big Cummins, the Curate, Miss Smeardon, and may I

-dare to add, the lady of the Manor herself,--any living breathing

-man takes on an Olympian majesty. I shouldn't miss you in Boston

-nor in London; perhaps even in Weston I might find a wretched

-substitute, but here you are priceless!

-

-"I have some news for you. On Saturday Miss Smeardon and I went to a

-garden party. That was what it was called. The thermometer was only

-slightly below zero when we started, and that luminary masquerading as

-the sun was pretending to shine. Soon after we arrived at the festive

-scene, there were gusts of wind and rain. I sought the shelter of a

-spreading tree, the kitchen fire not being available, and I was joined

-there by the hostess, who presented her niece, your Miss Meredith.

-

-"Dear Mr. Lavendar, this is a subject we cannot write about, you and

-I. I am loyal to my sex, and what Miss Meredith said, and looked, and

-did, are all as sacred to me as they ought to be. I only want to tell

-you that she is happy; that she has this very week become engaged, and

-is going to India with her husband in a month. Now that little

-cankerworm, that has been gnawing at your roots of life for the last

-year or two, has done its worst, and you are perfectly free to go and

-make other mistakes. I only hope you'll get 'scot free' from those,

-too, for I don't like to see nice men burn their fingers. We became

-such good friends huddled up in that boat when we were stuck in the

-mud--Ugh! I can smell it now!--that I am glad to be the first to send

-you pleasant news.

-

-                                             "Sincerely yours,

-                                                 "ROBINETTA LORING."

-

-

-

-

-XVII

-

-MRS. DE TRACY CROSSES THE FERRY

-

-

-Lavendar's blunt refusal, except under certain conditions, to

-announce to Mrs. Prettyman her coming ejection from the cottage at

-Wittisham, was unprofessional enough, as he himself felt; but it

-was final and categorical. Conveying as it did a sort of tacit

-remonstrance, this refusal had an unfortunate effect, for it only

-served to rouse Mrs. de Tracy's formidable obstinacy. She had

-seized upon one point only in their numberless and wearisome

-discussions of the matter: Mrs. Prettyman had no legal claim upon

-Stoke Revel. To give her compensation for the plum tree would be to

-allow that she had; to create a precedent highly dangerous under the

-circumstances. How could one refuse to other old women or old men

-leaving their cottages what one had weakly granted to her? The

-demands would be unceasing, the trouble endless. So arguing, Mrs. de

-Tracy soon brought herself to a state of determination bordering on a

-sort of mania. She was old, and in exaggerated harshness her life was

-retreating as it were into its last stronghold, at bay.

-

-As good as her word, for she had vowed she would warn Mrs. Prettyman

-herself, and she was never one to procrastinate, the lady of the Manor

-proceeded to plan her visit to Wittisham. She had not crossed the

-river for years. Wittisham, one of the loveliest villages in England,

-perhaps, though little known, was a thorn in her side, as it would

-have been in that of any other landlord with empty pockets.

-

-What you could not deal with to your own advantage, it was better to

-ignore, and on this autocratic principle, Mrs. de Tracy had left

-Wittisham to itself.

-

-But now the boat carried her there, alone and fierce--_thrawn_, as

-the Scotch say--bent upon a course of conduct that she knew would

-hold her up to the hatred of every right-thinking person of her

-acquaintance, and bitterly triumphant in the knowledge. The

-meanness of her errand never struck her. On the contrary, she would

-have argued it was one well worthy of her, a part of the scheme in

-the consummation of which she had spent her married life and her whole

-indomitable energy, losing actually her own identity in the process,

-and becoming an inexorable machine. That scheme was the holding

-together of Stoke Revel for the de Tracys, the maintenance of family

-dignity and power, the pre-eminence of a race that had always ruled.

-The river beneath her, carrying her to the fulfilment of her duty,

-the noble river, widening to the sea, subject to its tides and made

-turbulent by its storms, typified to Mrs. de Tracy only the

-greatness of Stoke Revel. From its banks the de Tracys had sent out,

-generation after generation, men who had commanded fleets, who

-had upheld the national honour upon the farthest seas, very often at

-the cost of life. There was no sacrifice of herself at which Mrs.

-de Tracy would have hesitated in upholding this ideal, no sacrifice

-of others, either. What was Lizzie Prettyman in comparison? A bag

-of old bones, fit for nothing but the workhouse!

-

-"A little faster, William," said the widow, sitting upright in the

-stern, and William the footman bent to his oars, the beads of

-perspiration standing on his brow. When Mrs. de Tracy stepped out upon

-the pier, she had to be reminded where the Prettyman cottage was.

-

-"You'll know it by the plum tree, ma'am," said William respectfully,

-"everybody does."

-

-It was not far off on the river side. The tide had ebbed and left a

-stretch of muddy foreshore in front of it, where the rotting poles for

-hanging the fishing nets out to dry stood gauntly up. Mrs. de Tracy

-approached the steps, which merged into the flagged path before the

-door, and paused to survey the property she intended to part with. She

-had no eye for the picturesque. A few white petals from the blossoming

-plum tree, scattered by the breeze, fell upon her black bonnet and

-shoulders. A faint scent of honey came from it and the hum of bees,

-for the day was warm. The tumble-down condition of the cottage engaged

-Mrs. de Tracy's attention.

-

-"And for this," she thought scornfully, "a man will give hundreds of

-pounds! There's truth in the adage that a fool and his money are soon

-parted!"

-

-She mounted the steps that led up to the patch of garden, her keen,

-cold eyes everywhere at once. "A cat can't sneeze without she 'ears

-'im!" her villagers at Stoke Revel were wont to say, disappearing into

-their houses as rabbits into their burrows at sight of a terrier.

-

-Old Elizabeth Prettyman stood at her door, and it took some time to

-make her realize who her august visitor was. She was getting blind;

-she had never been a favourite with Mrs. de Tracy, nor had she entered

-Stoke Revel Manor since her nursling disgraced it by marrying a Bean.

-She curtseyed humbly to the great lady.

-

-"There now, ma'am," she said, "it's not often we have seen you across

-the river. Will you please to come inside and sit down, ma'am? 'T is

-very warm this afternoon, it is." She was a good deal fluttered in her

-welcome, for there was that in Mrs. de Tracy's air that seemed to bode

-misfortune.

-

-"I shall sit down for a few minutes, Elizabeth," was the reply, "while

-I explain my visit to you."

-

-Mrs. Prettyman stood aside respectfully, and Mrs. de Tracy swept past

-her into the cottage and seated herself there. It never occurred to

-her to ask the old woman to sit down in her own house; she expected

-her to stand throughout the interview. Without further preamble,

-then, Mrs. de Tracy came to the point:--

-

-"Elizabeth," she said, "I have come to tell you that I am going to

-sell the land on which this cottage stands, and that you will have to

-find some other home."

-

-The old woman did not understand for a minute. "You be going to sell

-the land, ma'am?" she repeated stupidly.

-

-"Yes, I am. A gentleman from London wishes to buy it; you will need to

-go."

-

-"A gentleman from London! Lor, ma'am, no gentleman from London

-wouldn't live 'ere!" Elizabeth cried, perfectly dazed by the

-statement.

-

-Mrs. de Tracy repeated: "It is not your business, Elizabeth, what he

-intends to do with the place; all you have to do is to remove from the

-house."

-

-The old woman sank down on the nearest chair and covered her face with

-her hands. She was so old and so tired that she had no heart to face

-life under new conditions, even should they be better than those she

-left. A younger woman would have snapped her fingers in Mrs. de

-Tracy's face, so to speak, and wished her joy of her old rattletrap of

-a house, but Elizabeth Prettyman, after a lifetime of struggles, had

-not vitality enough for such an action. She had never dreamed of

-leaving the cottage, and where was she to go? Her furrowed face wore

-an expression of absolute terror now when she looked up.

-

-"But where be I to live, ma'am?" she cried.

-

-"I do not know, Elizabeth; you must arrange that with your relations,"

-said Mrs. de Tracy.

-

-"I don't 'ave but only me niece--'er as married down Exeter way."

-

-"Well, you should write to her then."

-

-"She don't want to keep me, Nettie don't,--she's but a poor man's

-wife, and five chillen she 'as; it's not like as if she were me

-daughter, ma'am."

-

-"You have some small sum of money of your own every year, have you

-not?" Mrs. de Tracy asked.

-

-"Ten pound a year, ma'am; the same that me 'usband left me; two

-'undred pounds 'e 'ad saved and 't is in an annuity; that's all I

-'ave--that and me plum tree."

-

-"The plum tree is not yours, either, Elizabeth; that belongs to the

-land," said Mrs. de Tracy curtly.

-

-"'T was me 'usband planted it, ma'am, years ago. We watched 'en and

-pruned 'en and tended 'en like a child we did--an' now to be told 'er

-ain't mine!"

-

-"You're forgetting yourself, Elizabeth, I think," said Mrs. de Tracy.

-It was simply impossible for her to see with the old woman's eyes; all

-she remembered was the legal fact that any tree planted in Stoke Revel

-ground belonged to the owner of the ground.

-

-"But ma'am, 't is a big part of me living is the plum tree; only

-yesterday I says to the young lady--Miss Cynthia's young lady--I

-says, 'Dear knows how 't would be with me without I had the plum

-tree.'"

-

-"I cannot help that, Elizabeth: the plum tree is not yours, it belongs

-to Stoke Revel."

-

-"Then ma'am, you'll be 'lowing me something for it surely?"

-

-"No," said Mrs. de Tracy obstinately, "you have no legal claim to

-compensation, Elizabeth. I cannot undertake to allow you anything for

-what is not yours. If I did it in your case you know quite well I

-should have to do it in many others."

-

-There was a long and heavy silence. Elizabeth Prettyman was taking in

-her sentence of banishment from her old home; Mrs. de Tracy was merely

-wondering how long it would take her to walk down that nasty steep bit

-of path to the ferry. At last the old woman looked up.

-

-"When must I be goin' then, ma'am?" she asked meekly.

-

-Mrs. de Tracy considered. "The transfer of land from one person to

-another generally takes some time: you will have several weeks here

-still; I shall send you notice later which day to quit."

-

-"Thank you, ma'am," said Elizabeth simply, and added, "The plum tree

-blossoms 'ul be over by that time."

-

-"I don't see what that has to do with it," said Mrs. de Tracy, in

-whose heart there was room for no sentiment.

-

-"'T would have been 'arder leavin' it in blossom time," the old woman

-explained; but her hearer could not see the point. She rose slowly

-from her chair and looked around the cottage.

-

-"I am glad to see that you keep your place clean and respectable,

-Elizabeth," she said. "I wish you good afternoon."

-

-Elizabeth never rose from her chair to see her visitor to the door--(an

-omission which Mrs. de Tracy was not likely to overlook)--she just sat

-there gazing stupidly around the tiny kitchen and muttering a word or

-two now and then. At last she got up and tottered to the garden.

-

-"I'll 'ave to leave it all--leave the old bench as me William did put

-for me with his own 'ands, and leave Duckie, Duckie can't never go to

-Exeter if I goes there,--and leave the plum tree." She limped across

-the little bit of sunny turf, and stood under the white canopy of the

-blossoming tree, leaning against its slender trunk. "Pity 't is we

-ain't rooted in the ground same as the trees are," she mused. "Then no

-one couldn't turn us out; only the Lord Almighty cut us down when our

-time came; Lord knows I'm about ready for that now--grave-ripe as you

-may say." She leaned her poor weary old head against the tree stem and

-wept, ready, ah! how ready, at that moment, to lay down the burden of

-her long and toilsome life.

-

-"Good afternoon, Nursie dear!" a clear voice called out in her ear,

-and Elizabeth started to find that Robinette had tip-toed across the

-grass and was standing close beside her. She lifted her tear-stained

-face up to Robinette's as a child might have done.

-

-"I've to quit, Missie," she sobbed, "to leave me 'ome and Duckie and

-the plum tree, an' I've no place to go to, and naught but my ten

-pounds to live on--and 't won't keep me without I've the plum tree,

-not when I've rent to pay from it; not if I don't eat nothing but tea

-an' bread never again!"

-

-In a moment Robinette's arms were about her: her soft young cheeks

-pressed against the withered old face.

-

-"What's this you're saying, Nurse?" she cried. "Leaving your cottage?

-Who said so?"

-

-"It's true, dear, quite true; 'asn't the lady 'erself been here to

-tell me so?"

-

-"Was that what Aunt de Tracy was here about? I met her on the road

-five minutes ago; she said she had been here on business! But tell me,

-Nurse, why does she want you to leave? Are you going to get a better

-cottage? Does she think this one isn't healthy for you?"

-

-"No, no, dear, 't isn't that, she 've sold the cottage over me 'ead,

-that's what 't is, or she's going to sell it, to a gentleman from

-London--Lord knows what a gentleman from London wants wi' 'en--and

-I've to quit."

-

-Robinette tried to be a peacemaker.

-

-"Then you'll get a much more comfortable house, that's quite certain.

-You know, though this one is lovely on fine days like this, that the

-thatch is all coming off, and I'm sure it's damp inside! Just wait a

-bit, and see if you don't get some nice cosy little place, with a

-sound roof and quite dry, that will cure this rheumatism of yours."

-

-But Mrs. Prettyman shook her head.

-

-"No, no, there won't be no cosy place given to me; I'm no more worth

-than an old shoe now, Missie, and I'm to be turned out, the lady said

-so 'erself; said as I must go to Exeter to live with me niece Nettie,

-and 'er don't want us--Nettie don't--and whatever shall I do without I

-'ave Duckie and the plum tree?"

-

-"Oh, but"--Robinette began, quite incredulously, and the old woman

-took up her lament again.

-

-"And I asked the lady, wouldn't I 'ave something allowed me for the

-plum tree--that 'ave about clothed me for years back? And 'No,' she

-says, ''t ain't your plum tree, Elizabeth, 't is mine; I can't 'low

-nothing on me own plum tree.'"

-

-Robinette still refused to believe the story.

-

-"Nurse, dear," she said, "you're a tiny bit deaf now, you know, and

-perhaps you misunderstood about leaving. Suppose you keep your dear

-old heart easy for to-night, and I'll come down bright and early

-to-morrow and tell you what it really is! If you have to leave the

-plum tree you'll get a fine price put on it that may last you for

-years; it's such a splendid tree, anyone can see it's worth a good

-deal."

-

-"That it be, Missie, the finest tree in Wittisham," the old woman

-said, drying her eyes, a little comforted by the assurance in

-Robinette's voice and manner.

-

-"There now, we won't have any more tears: I've brought a new canister

-of tea I sent for to London. I'm just dying to taste if it's good;

-we'll brew it together, Nursie; I shall carry out the little table

-from the kitchen and we'll drink our tea under the plum tree,"

-Robinette cried.

-

-She was carrying a great parcel under her arm, and when Mrs. Prettyman

-opened it, she could scarcely believe that this lovely red tin

-canister, filled with pounds of fragrant tea, could really be hers!

-The sight of such riches almost drove away her former fears. Robinette

-whisked into the kitchen and came out carrying the little round table

-which she set down under the white canopy of the plum tree. Then

-together they brought out the rest of the tea things, and what a merry

-meal they had!

-

-"It's just nonsense and a bit of deafness on your part, Nurse, so we

-won't remember anything about leaving the house, we are only going to

-think of enjoyment," Robinette announced. Then the old woman was

-comforted, as old people are wont to be by the brave assurances of

-those younger and stronger than themselves, forgot the spectre that

-seemed to have risen suddenly across her path, and laughed and talked

-as she sipped the fragrant London tea.

-

-

-

-

-XVIII

-

-THE STOKE REVEL JEWELS

-

-

-"Hullo! Cousin Robin, hurry up, you'll need all your time!" It was

-Carnaby of course who saluted Robinette thus, as she came towards the

-house on her return from Wittisham.

-

-"I'm not late, am I?" she said, consulting her watch.

-

-"I thought you'd be making a tremendous toilette; one of your killing

-ones to-night," Carnaby said. "Do! I love to see you all dressed up

-till old Smeardon's eyes look as if they would drop out when you come

-into the room."

-

-"I'll wear my black dress, and her eyes may remain in her head,"

-Robinette laughed.

-

-"And what about Mark's eyes? Wouldn't you like them to drop out?" the

-boy asked mischievously. "He's come back by the afternoon train while

-you were away at Wittisham."

-

-"Oh, has he?" Robinette said, and Carnaby stared so hard at her, that

-to her intense annoyance she blushed hotly.

-

-"Horrid lynx-eyed boy," she said to herself as she ran upstairs, "He's

-growing up far too quickly. He needs to be snubbed." She dashed to the

-wardrobe, pulled out the black garment, and gave it a vindictive shake.

-"Old, dowdy, unbecoming, deaconess-district-visitor-bible-woman,

-great-grand-auntly thing!" she cried.

-

-Then her eye lighted on a cherished lavender satin. She stood for a

-moment deliberating, the black dress over her arm, her eyes fixed upon

-the lavender one that hung in the wardrobe.

-

-"I don't care," she cried suddenly: "I'll wear the lavender, so here

-goes! Men are all colour blind, so he'll merely notice that I look

-nice. I must conceal from myself and everybody else how depressed I am

-over the interview with Nurse, and how I dread discussing the cottage

-with Aunt de Tracy. That must be done the first thing after dinner, or

-I shall lose what little courage I have."

-

-Lavendar thought he had never seen her look so lovely as when he met

-her in the drawing room a quarter of an hour later. There was nothing

-extraordinary about the dress but its exquisite tint and the sheen of

-the soft satin. The suggestion that lay in the colour was entirely

-lost upon him, however: if asked to name it he would doubtless have

-said "purplish." How he wished that he might have escorted her into

-the dining room, but Mrs. de Tracy was his portion as usual, and

-Robinette was waiting for Carnaby, who seemed unaccountably slow.

-

-"Your arm, Middy, when you are quite ready," she said to him at last.

-Carnaby's extraordinary unreadiness seemed to arise from his trying to

-smuggle some object up his sleeve. This proved, a few moments later,

-to be a bundle of lavender sticks tied with violet ribbon that he had

-discovered in his bureau drawer. He laid it by Robinette's plate with

-a whispered "My compliments."

-

-"What does your cousin want that bunch of lavender for, at the table?"

-Mrs. de Tracy enquired.

-

-"She likes lavender anywhere, ma'am," Carnaby said with a wink on the

-side not visible by his grandmother. "It's a favourite of hers."

-

-Robinette could only be thankful that Lavendar was occupied in a

-_sotto voce_ discussion of wine with Bates, and she was able to

-conceal the bundle of herbs before his eyes met hers, for the fury she

-felt against her precious young kinsman at that moment she could have

-expressed only by blows.

-

-Dinner seemed interminably long. Robinette, for more reasons than one,

-was preoccupied; Lavendar made few remarks, and Carnaby was possessed

-by a spirit of perfectly fiendish mischief, saying and doing

-everything that could most exasperate his grandmother, put her guests

-to the blush, and shock Miss Smeardon.

-

-But at last Mrs. de Tracy rose from the table, and the ladies followed

-her from the room, leaving Lavendar to cope alone with Carnaby.

-

-"My fair American cousin is more than usually lovely to-night, eh, Mr.

-Lavendar?" the boy said, with his laughable assumption of a man of the

-world.

-

-"There, my young friend; that will do! you're talking altogether too

-much," said Lavendar, as he poured himself out a glass of wine and sat

-down by the open window to drink it. Carnaby, perhaps not unreasonably

-offended, lounged out of the room, and left the older man to his own

-meditations.

-

-Robinette in the meantime went into the drawing room with her aunt,

-and they sat down together in the dim light while Miss Smeardon went

-upstairs to write a letter.

-

-"Aunt de Tracy," Robinette began, "I was calling on Mrs. Prettyman

-just after you had been with her this afternoon, and do you know the

-dear old soul had taken the strangest idea into her head! She says you

-are going to ask her to leave the cottage."

-

-"The land on which her cottage stands is about to be sold," said Mrs.

-de Tracy. "It is necessary that she should move."

-

-"Yes, she quite understood that; but she thinks she is not going to

-get another house; that was what was distressing her, naturally. Of

-course she hates to leave the old place, but I believe if she gets

-another nicer cottage, that will quite console her," said Robinette

-quickly.

-

-"I have no vacant cottage on the estate just now," said Mrs. de Tracy

-quietly.

-

-"Then what is she to do? Isn't it impossible that she should move

-until another place is made ready for her?" Robinette rose and stood

-beside the table, leaning the tips of her fingers on it in an attitude

-of intense earnestness. She was trying to conceal the anger and dismay

-she felt at her aunt's reply.

-

-"Mrs. Prettyman has relatives at Exeter," said Mrs. de Tracy without

-the quiver of an eyelid.

-

-"Yes; but they are poor. They aren't very near relations, and they

-don't want her. O Aunt de Tracy, is it necessary to make her leave?

-She depends upon the plum tree so! She makes twenty-five dollars a

-year from the jam!"

-

-"Dollars have no significance for me," said Mrs. de Tracy with an icy

-smile.

-

-"Well, pounds then: five pounds she makes. How is she ever going to

-live without that, unless you give her the equivalent? It's half her

-livelihood! I promised you would consider it? Was I wrong?"

-

-Old bitternesses rose in Mrs. de Tracy's heart, the prejudices and the

-grudges of a lifetime. Everything connected with Robinette's mother

-had been wrong in her eyes, and now everything connected with

-Robinette was wrong too, and becoming more so with startling

-rapidity.

-

-"You had no right whatsoever to make any promises on my behalf," she

-now said harshly. "You have acted foolishly and officiously. This is

-no business of yours."

-

-"I'll gladly make it my business if you'll let me, Aunt de Tracy!"

-pleaded Robinette. "If you don't feel inclined to provide for Mrs.

-Prettyman, mayn't I? She is my mother's old nurse and she shan't want

-for anything as long as I have a penny to call my own!" Robinette's

-eyes filled with tears, but Mrs. de Tracy was not a whit moved by this

-show of emotion, which appeared to her unnecessary and theatrical.

-

-"You are forgetting yourself a good deal in your way of speaking to me

-on this subject," she said coldly. "When I behaved unbecomingly in my

-youth, my mother always recommended me to go upstairs, shut myself up

-alone in my room, and collect my thoughts. The process had invariably

-a calming effect. I advise you to try it."

-

-Robinette did not need to be proffered the hint twice. She rushed out

-of the room like a whirlwind, not looking where she went. In the hall,

-she came face to face with Lavendar, who had just left the dining

-room.

-

-"Mr. Lavendar!" she cried. "Do go into the drawing room and speak to

-my aunt. Preach to her! Argue with her! Convince her that she can't

-and mustn't act in this way; can't go and turn Mrs. Prettyman out, and

-rob her of the plum tree, and leave her with hardly a penny in the

-world or a roof over her head!"

-

-"It's not a very pretty or a very pleasant business, Mrs. Loring, I

-admit," said Lavendar quietly.

-

-"Is it English law?" cried Robinette with indignation. "If it is, I

-call it mean and unjust!"

-

-"Sometimes the laws seem very hard," said Lavendar. "I'd like to

-discuss this affair with you quietly another time."

-

-As he spoke, Carnaby appeared and wanted to be told what the matter

-was, but Robinette discovered that it is not very easy to criticise a

-grandmother to her youthful grandson, more especially when the lady in

-question is your hostess.

-

-"Aunt de Tracy and I have had a little difference of opinion about

-Mrs. Prettyman and her cottage, and the plum tree," she said to the

-boy quietly, and Lavendar nodded approval.

-

-"Prettyman's got the sack, hasn't she?" Carnaby enquired with a boy's

-carelessness.

-

-Robinette looked very grave. "My dear old nurse is to leave her

-cottage," she said with a quiver in her voice. "She's to lose her plum

-tree--"

-

-"But of course she'll get compensation," cried Carnaby.

-

-"No, Middy; she's to get no compensation," said Robinette in a low

-voice.

-

-"Well, I call that jolly hard! It's a beastly shame," said Carnaby,

-evidently pricking up his ears and with a sudden frown that changed

-his face. "I say, Mark--" But Lavendar did not think the moment

-suitable for a discussion of Mrs. Prettyman's wrongs. Besides, he did

-not wish Robinette to be banished from the drawing room for a whole

-interminable evening. He contrived to silence Carnaby for the time

-being.

-

-"Let's bury the hatchet for a little while," he suggested. "Have you

-forgotten, Mrs. Loring, that I made Mrs. de Tracy promise to show off

-the Stoke Revel jewels for your benefit this very night?"

-

-"O! but now I'm in disgrace, she won't!" said Robinette.

-

-"Yes, she will!" said Carnaby. "Nothing puts the old lady in such a

-heavenly temper as showing off the jewels. Don't you miss it, Cousin

-Robin! It's like the Tower of London and Madam Tussaud's rolled into

-one, this show, I can assure you. Come on! Come back into the drawing

-room. Needn't be afraid when Mark's there!"

-

-Robinette found that a black look or two was all that she had to fear

-from Mrs. de Tracy at present, and even these became less severe

-under the alchemy of Lavendar's tact. A reminder that an exhibition of

-the jewelry had been promised was graciously received. Bates and

-Benson were summoned, and armed with innumerable keys, they descended

-to subterranean regions where safes were unlocked and jewel-boxes

-solemnly brought into the drawing room. Mrs. de Tracy wore an air

-almost devotional, as she unlocked the final receptacles with keys

-never allowed to leave her own hands.

-

-"If the proceedings had begun with prayer and ended with a hymn, it

-wouldn't have surprised me in the least!" Robinette said to herself,

-looking silently on. Her silence, luckily for her, was taken for the

-speechlessness of awe, and did a good deal to make up, in the eyes of

-her august relative, for her late indiscretions. As a matter of fact,

-her irreverent thoughts were mostly to the effect that all but the

-historical pieces of the Stoke Revel _corbeille_ would be the better

-of re-setting by Tiffany or Cartier.

-

-Mrs. de Tracy opened an old shagreen case and the firelight flickered

-on the diamonds of a small tiara.

-

-"This is a part of the famous Montmorency set," she announced proudly,

-with the tone of a Keeper of Regalia. Then she took out a rope of

-pearls ending in tassels. "These belonged to Marie Antoinette," she

-said.

-

-An emerald set was next produced, and the emeralds, it was explained,

-had once adorned a crown. Deep green they were, encrusted in their

-diamond setting; costly, unique; but they left Robinette cold, though

-like most American women, she loved precious stones as an adornment.

-One of those emeralds, she was thinking, was worth fifty times more

-than old Lizzie Prettyman's cottage: the sale of one of them would

-have averted that other sale which was to cause so much distress to a

-poor harmless old woman.

-

-"When do you wear your jewels, Aunt de Tracy?" she asked gravely.

-

-"I have not worn them since the Admiral's death," was the virtuous

-reply, "and I have never called or considered them mine, Robinetta.

-They are the de Tracy jewels. When Carnaby takes his place as the head

-of the house, they will be his. He will see that his wife wears them

-on the proper occasions."

-

-"Carnaby's wife!" thought Robinette. "Why! she mayn't be born! He may

-never have a wife! And to think of all those precious stones hiding

-their brightness in these boxes like prisoners in a dungeon for years

-and years, only to be let out now and then by Bates and Benson,

-jingling their keys like jailers! And this house is a prison too!" she

-said to herself; "a prison for souls!" and the thought of its hoarded

-wealth made her indignant; all this hidden treasure in a house where

-there was never enough to eat, where guests shivered in fireless

-bedrooms, where servants would not stay because they were starved! And

-Carnaby, too, whose youth was being embittered by unnecessary

-economies: Carnaby, who had so little pocket-money that he was a

-laughing-stock among his fellows--it was for Carnaby these sacrifices

-were being made! Strange traditions! Fetiches of family pride almost

-as grotesque to her thinking as those of any savages under the sun.

-

-"My poor dear Middy!" she thought. "What chance has he, brought up in

-an atmosphere like this?" But she happened to raise her eyes at the

-moment, and to see the actual Carnaby of the moment, not the Carnaby

-her gloomy imagination was evoking from the future with the "petty

-hoard of maxims preaching down" his heart. He had contrived to get

-hold of the Marie Antoinette pearls without his grandmother's

-knowledge and to hang them around his neck; he had poised the

-Montmorency tiara on his own sleek head; he had forced a heavy

-bracelet by way of collar round Rupert's throat, and now with that

-choking and goggling unfortunate held partner-wise in his arms, he was

-waltzing on tiptoe about the farther drawing room behind the

-unconscious backs of Mrs. de Tracy and Miss Smeardon.

-

-"He's only a careless boy," thought Robinette, "a happy-go-lucky,

-devil-may-care, hare-brained youngster. They can't have poisoned his

-nature yet, and I'm sure he has a good heart. If he were at the head

-of affairs at Stoke Revel instead of his grandmother, I wonder what

-would be done in the matter of my poor old nurse?" Robinette stood in

-the doorway for a moment before going up to her room. Her whole

-attitude spoke depression as Carnaby stole up behind her.

-

-"See here, Cousin Robin, I can't bear to have you go on like this.

-Don't take Prettyman's trouble so to heart. We'll do something! I'll

-do something myself! I have a happy thought."

-

-

-

-

-XIX

-

-LAWYER AND CLIENT

-

-

-Robinette had a bad night after the jewel exhibition, and a heavy head

-and aching eyes prompted her to ask Little Cummins to bring her

-breakfast to her bedroom.

-

-It was touching to see that small person hovering over Robinette:

-stirring the fire, sweeping the hearth, looping back the curtains,

-tucking the slippers out of sight, and moving about the room like a

-mother ministering to an ailing child. Finally she staggered in with

-the heavy breakfast tray that she had carried through long halls and

-up the stairs, and put it on the table by the bed.

-

-"There's a new-laid egg, ma'am, that cook 'ad for the mistress, but I

-thought you needed it more; an' I brewed the tea meself, to be sure,"

-she cooed; "an' I've spread the loaf same as you like, an' cut the

-bread thin, an' 'ere's one o' the roses you allers wears to breakfast;

-an' wouldn't your erming coat be a comfort, ma'am?"

-

-"Dear Little Cummins! How did you know I needed comfort? How did you

-guess I was homesick?"

-

-Robinette leaned her head against the housemaid's rough hand, always

-stained with black spots that would give way to no scrubbing. From

-morning to night she was in the coal scuttle or the grate or the

-saucer of black lead, for she did nothing but lay fires, light fires,

-feed fires, and tidy up after fires, for eight or nine months of the

-year.

-

-"You mustn't touch me, ma'am; I ain't fit; there's smut on me, an'

-hashes, this time o' day," said Little Cummins.

-

-"I don't care. I like you better with ashes than lots of people

-without. You mustn't stay in the coal scuttle all your life, Little

-Cummins; you must be my chambermaid some of these days when we can get

-a good substitute for Mrs. de Tracy. Would you like that, if the

-mistress will let you go?"

-

-Little Cummins put her apron up to her eyes, and from its depths came

-inarticulate bursts of gratitude and joy. Then peeping from it just

-enough to see the way to the door, she ran out like a hare and

-secluded herself in the empty linen-room until she was sufficiently

-herself to join the other servants.

-

-Robinette finished her breakfast and dressed. She had lacked courage

-to meet the family party, although she longed for a talk with Mark

-Lavendar. It was entirely normal, feminine, and according to all law,

-human and divine, but it appealed also to her sense of humour, that

-she should feel that this new man-friend could straighten out all the

-difficulties in the path. She waited patiently at her window until she

-saw him walk around the corner of the house, under the cedars, and up

-the twisting path, his head bent and bare, his hands in his pockets.

-Then she flung her blue cape over her shoulders and followed him.

-

-"Mr. Lavendar," she called, as she caught up with his slow step, "you

-said you would advise me a little. Let us sit on this bench a moment

-and find out how we can untangle all the knots into which Aunt de

-Tracy tied us yesterday. I am so afraid of her that I am sure I spoke

-timidly and respectfully to her at first; but perhaps I showed more

-feeling at the end than I should. I am willing to apologize to her for

-any lack of courtesy, but I don't see how I can retract anything I

-said."

-

-"It is hard for you," Lavendar replied, "because you have a natural

-affection for your mother's old nurse; and Mrs. de Tracy, I begin to

-believe, is more than indifferent to her. She has some active dislike,

-perhaps, the source of which is unknown to us."

-

-"But she is so unjust!" cried Robinette. "I never heard of an Irish

-landlord in a novel who would practice such a piece of eviction. If I

-must stand by and see it done, then I shall assert my right to provide

-for Nurse and move her into a new dwelling. After you left the drawing

-room last night, I begged as tactfully as I could that Aunt de Tracy

-would sell me some of the jewels, so that she need not part with the

-land at Wittisham. She was very angry, and wouldn't hear of it. Then I

-proposed buying the plum-tree cottage, that it might be kept in the

-family, and she was furious at my audacity. Perhaps the Admiral's

-niece is _not_ in the family."

-

-"She cannot endure anything like patronage, or even an assumption of

-equality," said Lavendar. "You must be careful there."

-

-"Should I be likely to patronize?" asked Robinette reproachfully.

-

-"No; but your acquaintance with your aunt is a very brief one, and she

-is an extraordinary character; hard to understand. You may easily

-stumble on a prejudice of hers at every step."

-

-"I shouldn't like to understand her any better than I do now," and

-Robinette pushed back her hair rebelliously.

-

-"Will you be my client for about five minutes?" asked Lavendar.

-

-"Yes, willingly enough, for I see nothing before me but to take Nurse

-Prettyman and depart in the first steamer for America."

-

-Mrs. Loring looked as if she were quite capable of this rather radical

-proceeding, and very much, too, as if any growing love for Lavendar

-that she might have, would easily give way under this new pressure of

-circumstances.

-

-"This is the situation in a nutshell," said Lavendar, filling his

-pipe. "Mrs. de Tracy is entirely within her legal rights when she asks

-Mrs. Prettyman to leave the cottage; legally right also when she

-declines to give compensation for the plum tree that has been a source

-of income; financially right moreover in selling cottage and land at a

-fancy price to find money for needed improvements on the estate."

-

-"None of this can be denied, I allow."

-

-"All these legal rights could have been softened if Mrs. de Tracy had

-been willing to soften them, but unfortunately she has been put on the

-defensive. She did not like it when I opposed her in the first place.

-She did not like it when my father advised her to make some small

-settlement, as he did, several days ago. She resented Mrs. Prettyman's

-assumption of owning the plum tree; she was outraged at your valiant

-espousing of your nurse's cause."

-

-"I see; we have simply made her more determined in her injustice."

-

-"Now it is all very well for you to show your mettle," Lavendar went

-on, "for you to endure your aunt's displeasure rather than give up a

-cause you know to be just; but look where it lands us."

-

-Robinette raised her troubled eyes to Lavendar's, giving a sigh to

-show she realized that her landing-place would be wherever the lawyer

-fixed it, not where she wished it.

-

-"Go on," she sighed patiently.

-

-"Your legal adviser regards it as impossible that you should come over

-from America and quarrel with your mother's family;--your only family,

-in point of fact. If this affair is fought to a finish you will feel

-like leaving your aunt's house."

-

-"I shouldn't have to wait for that feeling," said Robinette

-irrepressibly. "Aunt de Tracy would have it first!"

-

-"In such an event I could and would stand by you, naturally."

-

-"_Would_ you?" cried Robinette glowing instantly like a jewel.

-

-Lavendar looked at her in amazement. "Pray what do you take me for? On

-whose side could I, should I be, my dear--my dear Mrs. Loring? But to

-keep to business. In the event stated above, neither my father nor I

-could very well continue to have charge of the estate. That is a small

-matter, but increases the difficulties, owing to a long friendship

-dating back to the Admiral's time. Then we have Carnaby. Carnaby, my

-dear Mrs. Loring, belongs to you. Do you want to give him up? He

-adores you and you will have an unbounded influence on him, if you

-choose to exercise it."

-

-"How can I influence Carnaby--in America?"

-

-This was a blow, but Lavendar made no sign. "You may not always be in

-America," he said. "Now why not let Mrs. de Tracy sell the land and

-cottage and plum tree in the ordinary course of things? Oh, how I wish

-_I_ could buy the blessed thing!" he exclaimed, parenthetically.

-

-"Oh! how I wish _I_ could buy the plum tree, and keep it, always

-blossoming, in my morning-room!" sighed Robinette.

-

-"But unfortunately, Waller R. A. will buy the plum tree, confound him!

-Now, just after Mrs. de Tracy has definitely sold the premises and all

-their appurtenances, suppose you, in your prettiest and most docile

-way (docility not being your strong point!) ask your aunt if she has

-any objection to your taking care of Mrs. Prettyman during the few

-years remaining to her. Meantime keep her from irritating Mrs. de

-Tracy, and make the poor old dear happy with plans for her future. If

-you are short on docility you are long on making people happy!"

-

-"Never did I hear such an argument! It would make Macduff fall into

-the arms of Macbeth; it would tranquillize the Kilkenny cats

-themselves! I'll run in and apologize abjectly to my thrice guilty

-aunt, then I'll reward myself by going over to Wittisham."

-

-"If you'll take the ferry over, I'd like to come and fetch you if I

-may. That shall be my reward."

-

-"Reward for what?"

-

-"For giving you advice very much against my personal inclinations.

-Courses of action founded entirely on policy do not appeal to me very

-strongly."

-

-

-

-

-XX

-

-THE NEW HOME

-

-

-It was in rather a chastened spirit that Robinette set off to see Mrs.

-Prettyman. "I've been foolish, I've been imprudent; oh! dear me! I've

-still so much to learn!" she sighed to herself. "No good is ever done

-by losing one's temper; it only puts everything wrong. I shall have to

-try and take Mr. Lavendar's advice. I must be very prudent with Nurse

-this morning--never show her that I think Aunt de Tracy is in the

-wrong; just persuade her ever so gently to move to another home, and

-arrange with her where it is to be."

-

-It is always difficult for an impetuous nature like Robinette's to

-hold back about anything. She would have liked to run straight into

-Mrs. Prettyman's room, and, flinging her arms round the old woman's

-neck, cry out to her that everything was settled. And instead she

-must come to the point gently, prudently, wisely, "like other people"

-as she said to herself.

-

-The cottage seemed very still that afternoon, and Robinette knocked

-twice before she heard the piping old voice cry out to her to come

-in.

-

-"Why, Nurse dear, where are you? Were you asleep?" Robinette said as

-she entered, for Mrs. Prettyman was not sitting in the fine new chair.

-Then she found that the voice answered from the little bedroom off the

-kitchen, and that the old woman was in bed.

-

-"I ain't ill, so to speak, dear, just weary in me bones," she

-explained, as Robinette sat down beside her. "And Mrs. Darke, me

-neighbour, she sez to me, 'You do take the day in bed, Mrs. Prettyman,

-me dear, an' I'll do your bit of work for 'ee'--so 'ere I be, Missie,

-right enough."

-

-"I'm afraid you were worried yesterday," said Robinette; "worried

-about leaving the house."

-

-"I were, Missie, I were," she confessed.

-

-"That's why I came to-day; you must stop worrying, for I've settled

-all about it. I spoke to my aunt last night, and it's true that you

-have to leave this house; but now I've come to make arrangements with

-you about a new one."

-

-The old woman covered her face with her hands and gave a little cry

-that went straight to Robinette's heart.

-

-"Lor' now, Miss, 'ow am I ever to leave this place where I've been all

-these years? I thought yesterday as you said 'twas a mistake I'd

-made."

-

-"But alas, it wasn't altogether a mistake," Robinette had to confess

-sadly, her eyes filling with tears as she realized how she had only

-doubled her old friend's disappointment. Then she sat forward and took

-Mrs. Prettyman's hand in hers.

-

-"Nursie dear," she said, "I don't want you to grieve about leaving

-the old home, for it isn't an awfully good one; the new one is going

-to be ever so much better!"

-

-"That's so, I'm sure, dearie, only 'tis _new_," faltered Mrs.

-Prettyman. "If you're spared to my age, Missie, you'll find as new

-things scare you."

-

-"Ah, but not a new house, Nursie! Wait till I describe it! Everything

-strong and firm about it, not shaking in the storms as this one

-does; nice bright windows to let in all the sunshine; so no more

-'rheumatics' and no more tears of pain in your dear old eyes!"

-

-Robinette's voice failed suddenly, for it struck her all in a moment

-that her glowing description of the new home seemed to have in it

-something prophetic. That bent little figure beside her, these shaking

-limbs and dim old eyes,--all this house of life, once so carefully

-builded, was crumbling again into the dust, and its tenant indeed

-wanted a new one, quite, quite different! A sob rose in Robinette's

-throat, but she swallowed it down and went on gaily.

-

-"I've settled about another thing, too; you're to have another plum

-tree, or life wouldn't be the same thing to you. And you know they can

-transplant quite big trees now-a-days and make them grow wonderfully.

-Some one was telling me all about how it is done only a few days ago.

-They dig them up ever so carefully, and when they put them into the

-new hole, every tiny root is spread out and laid in the right

-direction in the ground, and patted and coaxed in, and made firm, and

-they just catch hold on the soil in the twinkle of an eye. Isn't it

-marvellous? Well, I'll have a fine new tree planted for you so

-cleverly that perhaps by next year you'll be having a few plums, who

-knows? And the next year more plums! And the next year, jam!"

-

-"'Twill be beautiful, sure enough," said the old woman, kindling at

-last under the description of all these joys. "And do you think,

-Missie, as the new cottage will really be curing of me rheumatics?"

-

-"Why yes, Nurse. Whoever heard of rheumatism in a dry new house?"

-

-"The house be new, but the rheumatics be old," said Mrs. Prettyman

-sagely.

-

-"Well, we can't make _you_ entirely new, but we'll do our best. I'm

-going to enquire about a nice cottage not very far from here; there's

-plenty of time before this one is sold. It shall be dry and warm and

-cosy, and you will feel another person in it altogether."

-

-"These new houses be terrible dear, bain't they?" the old woman said

-anxiously.

-

-"Not a bit; besides that's another matter I want to settle with you,

-Nursie. I'm going to pay the rent always, and you're going to have a

-nice little girl to help you with the work, and there will be

-something paid to you each month, so that you won't have any

-anxiety."

-

-"Oh, Missie, Missie, whatever be you sayin'? _Me_ never to have no

-anxiety again!"

-

-"You never shall, if I can help it; old people should never have

-worries; that's what young people are here for, to look after them and

-keep them happy."

-

-Mrs. Prettyman lay back on the pillow and gazed at Robinette

-incredulously; it wasn't possible that such a solution had come to all

-her troubles. For seventy odd years she had worked and struggled and

-sometimes very nearly starved and here was some one assuring her that

-these struggles were over forever, that she needn't work hard any

-more, or ever worry again. Could it be true? And all to come from Miss

-Cynthia's daughter!

-

-Robinette bent down and kissed the wrinkled old face softly.

-

-"Good-night, Nursie dear," she said. "I'm not going to stay any longer

-with you to-day, because you're tired. Have a good sleep, and waken up

-strong and bright."

-

-"Good-night, Missie, good-night, dear," the old woman said. Her face

-had taken on an expression of such peacefulness as it had never worn

-before.

-

-She turned over on her pillow and closed her eyes, scarcely waiting

-for Robinette to leave the room.

-

-"I've been allowed to do that, anyway," Robinette said to herself,

-standing in the doorway to look back at the quiet sleeper, and then

-looking forward to a little boat nearing the shore. The cottage

-sheltered almost the only object that connected her with her past; the

-boat, she felt, held all her future.

-

-                  *       *       *       *       *

-

-The river, when Lavendar rowed himself across it, was very quiet. "The

-swelling of Jordan," as Robinette called the rising tide, was over;

-now the glassy water reflected every leaf and twig from the trees that

-hung above its banks and dipped into it here and there.

-

-Mooring his boat at the landing, Mark sauntered up to Mrs. Prettyman's

-cottage, and having tapped lightly at the door to let Mrs. Loring

-know of his arrival, as they had agreed he should do, he went along

-the flagged pathway into the garden, and sat down on the edge of the

-low wall that divided it from the river. Just in front of him was the

-little worn bench where he had first seen Robinette as she sat beside

-her old nurse with the tiny shoe on her lap. It was scarcely a

-fortnight ago; yet it seemed to him that he could hardly remember the

-kind of man he had been that afternoon; a new self, full of a new

-purpose, and at that moment of a new hope, had taken the place of the

-objectless being he had been before.

-

-Everything was very still; there was scarcely a sound from the village

-or from the shipping farther down the river. Lavendar fancied he heard

-Robinette's clear voice within the cottage; then he started suddenly

-and the blood rushed to his heart as he listened to her light steps

-coming along the paved footpath.

-

-"Here you are!" she whispered. "Let us not speak too loud, for Nurse

-was just dropping asleep when I left her. I've put a table-cover and

-a blanket over 'Mrs. Mackenzie' to keep her from quacking. Mrs.

-Prettyman has not been very well, poor dear, and is in bed. We've just

-talked about the lovely new home she's going to have, and the

-transplanted plum tree; small, but warranted to bear in a year or two

-and give plums and jam like this one. I left her so happy!"

-

-She stopped and looked up. "Oh! can any new tree be as beautiful as

-this one? Was ever anything in the world more exquisite? It has

-just come to its hour of perfection, Mr. Lavendar; it couldn't

-last,--anything so lovely in a passing world."

-

-She sat down on the low wall, and looked up at the tree. It stood and

-shone there in its perfect hour. Another day, and the blossoms, too

-fully blown, would begin to drift upon the ground with every little

-shaking wind; now it was at its zenith, a miracle of such white beauty

-that it caused the heart to stop and consider. Bees and butterflies

-hummed and flew around it; it cast a delicate shadow on the grass, and

-leaning across the wall it was imaged again in the river like a bride

-in her looking-glass.

-

-Robinette sat gazing at the tree, and Lavendar sat gazing at her. At

-that moment he "feared his fate too much" to break the silence by any

-question that might shatter his hope, as the first breeze would break

-the picture that had taken shape in the glassy water beneath them.

-

-"I feel in a better temper now," said Robinette. "Who could be angry,

-and look at that beautiful thing? I've left dear old Nurse quite happy

-again, and I haven't yet offended Aunt de Tracy irrevocably, and all

-because you persuaded me not to be unreasonable. All the same I could

-do it again in another minute if I let myself go. Doesn't injustice

-ever make people angry in England?"

-

-Lavendar laughed. "It often makes me feel angry, but I've never found

-that throwing the reins on the horses' necks when they wanted to

-bolt, made one go along the right road any faster in the end."

-

-"I often think," said Robinette, "if we could see people really angry

-and disagreeable before we--" She hesitated and added, "get to know

-them well, we should be so much more careful."

-

-"Yes," said Mark, bending down his head and speaking very deliberately,

-"that's why I wish you could have seen me in all my worst moments.

-I'd stand the shame of it, if you could only know, but, alas, one

-can't show off one's worst moments to order; they must be hit upon

-unexpectedly."

-

-"I don't believe thirty years of life would teach one about some

-people--they are so _crevicey_," said Robinette musingly. She had

-risen and leaned against the plum tree for a moment, looking up

-through the white branches.

-

-Lavendar rose and stood beside her. "Thirty years--I shall be getting

-on to seventy in thirty years."

-

-A little gust of wind shook the tree; some petals came drifting down

-upon them, like white moths, like flakes of summer snow, a warning

-that the brief hour of perfection would soon be past ... and under it

-human creatures were talking about thirty years!

-

-

-

-

-XXI

-

-CARNABY CUTS THE KNOT

-

-

-That afternoon, Carnaby was having what he called "an absolutely

-mouldy time," and since his leave was running out and his remaining

-afternoons were few, he considered himself an injured individual.

-Robinette and Lavendar seemed for ever preoccupied either with each

-other or with some subject of discussion, the ins and outs of which

-they had not confided to him.

-

-"It's partly that blessed plum tree," he said to himself; "but of

-course they're spooning too. Very likely they're engaged by this time.

-Didn't I tell her she'd marry again? Well, if she must, it might as

-well be old Lavendar as anyone else. He's a decent chap, or he was,

-before he fell in love."

-

-Carnaby sighed. This effort of generosity towards his rival made him

-feel peculiarly disconsolate. He had fished and rowed on the river all

-the morning; he had ferreted; he had fed Rupert with a private

-preparation of rabbits which infallibly made him sick, the desired

-result being obtained with almost provoking celerity. Thus even

-success had palled, and Carnaby's sharp and idle wits had begun to

-work on the problem which seemed to be occupying his elders. Neither

-Robinette nor Lavendar could expatiate to the boy on his grandmother's

-peculiarities, but Carnaby had contrived to find out for himself how

-the land lay.

-

-"Why is Waller R. A. so keen on the plum tree?" he had enquired.

-

-"He wants to make a quartette of studies," answered Lavendar. "The

-Plum Tree in spring, summer, autumn, and winter."

-

-"What a rotten idea!" said Carnaby simply.

-

-"Far from rotten, my young friend, I can assure you!" Lavendar

-returned. "It will furnish coloured illustrations for countless

-summer numbers of the _Graphic_ and _The Lady's Pictorial_, and fill

-Waller R. A.'s pockets with gold, some of which will shortly filter in

-advance into the Stoke Revel banking account, we hope."

-

-"I'm not so sure about that!" said Carnaby; but he said it to himself,

-while aloud he only asked with much apparent innocence, "Waller R. A.

-wouldn't look at the cottage or the land without the plum tree, I

-suppose?"

-

-"Certainly not," Lavendar had answered. "The plum tree is safeguarded

-in the agreement as I'm sure no plum tree ever was before. Waller R.

-A.'s no fool!"

-

-Digesting this information and much else that he had gleaned, Carnaby

-now climbed to the top of a tree where he had a favourite perch, and

-did some serious and simple thinking.

-

-"It's a beastly shame," he said to himself, "to turn that old woman

-out of her cottage. Cousin Robin thinks it's a beastly shame, and

-what's more, Mark does, and he's a man, and a lawyer into the

-bargain."

-

-Carnaby thought remorsefully of a pot of jam which old Mrs. Prettyman

-had given him once to take back to college. What good jam it had

-been, and how large the pot! He had never given her anything--he had

-never a penny to bless himself with; and now his grandmother was

-taking away from the poor old creature all that she had. "It's

-regular covetousness," he thought, "and that infernal plum tree's at

-the bottom of it all. Naboth's vineyard is a joke in comparison, and

-What's-his-name and the one ewe lamb simply aren't in it." He grew

-hot with mortification. Then he reflected, "If the plum tree weren't

-there, Waller R. A. wouldn't want the cottage, and old Mrs. Prettyman

-could live in it till the end of the chapter." A slow grin dawned upon

-his face, its most mischievous expression, the one which Rupert with

-canine sagacity had learned to dread. He felt and pinched the

-muscle of his arm fondly. (_Mussle_ he always spelled the word

-himself, upon phonetic principles.)

-

-"I may be a fool and a minor" (generally spelt _miner_ by him), he

-said, as he climbed down from his perch, "but at least I can cut down

-a tree!"

-

-He became lost to view forthwith in the workshops and tool-sheds

-attached to the home premises of Stoke Revel, and presently emerged,

-furnished with the object he had made diligent and particular search

-for; this he proceeded to carry in an inconspicuous way to a distant

-cottage where he knew there was a grindstone. He spent a happy hour

-with the object, the grindstone, and a pail of water. _Whirr_,

-_whirr_, _whirr_, sang the grindstone, now softly, now loudly--"_this

-is an axe, an axe, an axe, and a strong arm that holds it_!"

-

-"You be goin' to do a bit of forestry on your own, Master Carnaby,

-eh?" suggested the grinning owner of the grindstone.

-

-"I am; a very particular bit, Jones!" replied the young master,

-lovingly feeling the edge of the tool, which was now nearly as fine as

-that of a razor.

-

-"You be careful, sir, as you don't chop off one of your own toes with

-that there axe," said the man. "It be full heavy for one o' your age.

-But there! you zailor-men be that handy! 'Tis your trade, so to

-speak!"

-

-"Quite right, Jones, it is!" replied Carnaby. "Good-afternoon and

-thank you for the use of the grindstone." He was already planning

-where he would hide the axe, for he had precise ideas about everything

-and left nothing to chance.

-

-Carnaby went to bed that night at his usual hour. His profession had

-already accustomed him to awaking at odd intervals, and he had more

-than the ordinary boy's knowledge of moon and tide, night and dawn.

-When he slipped out of bed after a few hours of sound sleep, he put on

-a flannel shirt and trousers and a broad belt, and then, carrying his

-boots in his hand, crept out of his room and through the sleeping

-house. He would much rather have climbed out of the window, in a

-manner more worthy of such an adventure, but his return in that

-fashion might offer dangers in daylight. So he was content with an

-unfrequented garden door which he could leave on the latch.

-

-The moon, which had been young when she lighted the lovers in the

-mud-bank adventure, was now a more experienced orb and shed a useful

-light. Carnaby intended to cross the river in a small tub which was

-propelled by a single oar worked at the stern, the rower standing.

-This craft was intended for pottering about the shore; to cross the

-river in it was the dangerous feat of a skilled waterman, but Carnaby

-had a knack of his own with every floating thing. As he balanced

-himself in the rocking tub, bare-headed, bare-necked, bare-armed,

-paddling with the grace and ease of strength and training, he looked

-a man, but a man young with the youth of the gods. The moon shone in

-his keen grey eyes and made them sparkle. A cold sea-wind blew up the

-river, but he did not feel its chill, for blood hot with adventure

-raced in his veins.

-

-Wittisham was in profound darkness when he landed, and the moon having

-gone behind a bank of cloud, he had to grope his way to Mrs.

-Prettyman's cottage, shouldering the axe. The isolated position of the

-house alone made the adventure possible, he reflected; he could not

-have cut down a tree in the hearing of neighbours, and as to old

-Elizabeth herself, he hoped she was deaf. Most old women were, he

-reflected, except unfortunately his grandmother!

-

-Soon he was entering the little garden and sniffing the scent of

-blossom, which was very strong in the night air. He could see the dim

-outline of the plum tree, and just as he wanted light, the moon came

-out and shone upon its whiteness, giving a sort of spiritual beauty

-to the flowering thing that was very exquisite.

-

-"What price, Waller R. A. now?" thought Carnaby impishly. "The plum

-tree in moonlight! eh? Wouldn't he give his eyes to see it! But he

-won't! Not if I know it!" The boy was as blind to the tree's beauty as

-his grandmother had been, but he had scientific ideas how to cut it

-down, for he had watched the felling of many a tree.

-

-First, standing on a lower branch, you lopped off all the side shoots

-as high as you could reach. This made the trunk easy to deal with, and

-its fall less heavy, and Carnaby set to work.

-

-"She goes through them all as slick as butter!" he said to himself in

-high satisfaction. The axe had assumed a personality to him and was

-"she," not "it." "She makes no more noise than a pair of scissors

-cutting flowers; not half so much!" he said proudly. Branch after

-branch fell down and lay about the tree like the discarded garments of

-a bathing nymph. The petals fell upon Carnaby's face, upon his hair

-and shoulders; he was a white figure as he toiled. Frightened birds

-and bats flew about, but he did not notice them. His only care was the

-cottage itself and its inmate. If _she_ should awake! But the little

-habitation, shrouded in thatch and deep in shadow, was dark and silent

-as the grave.

-

-"She must be sound asleep and deaf," thought the boy. "Yes, very

-deaf." He paused. The first stage in his task was accomplished.

-Shivering and naked, one absurd tuft of blossom and leaves at the

-tip--the murdered tree now stood in the moonlight, imploring the _coup

-de grâce_ which should end its shame.

-

-"Jolly well done," said the murderer complacently. He stretched his

-arms, looked at the palms of his hands to see if they had blistered,

-and addressed himself to the second part of his business. Thud! thud!

-went the axe on the trunk of the tree, and the sweat broke out all

-over Carnaby's skin, not with exertion but with nervous terror.

-

-"If that doesn't wake the dead!" he thought--but there was no awaking

-in the cottage. Its tiny window blinked in the moonlight, and Carnaby

-thought he heard the drowsy quack of a duck in an out-house. But the

-danger passed. Thud! went the axe again. The slim severed shaft of the

-tree was poised a moment, motionless, erect before it fell. Then it

-subsided gently among its broken and trodden boughs, and Carnaby's

-task was done.

-

-

-

-

-XXII

-

-CONSEQUENCES

-

-

-Early that morning before the sun had risen, when the light was still

-grey in the coming dawn, Robinette was awakened by a bird that called

-out from a tree close to her open window, every note like the striking

-of a golden bell. She jumped up and looked out, but the little singer,

-silenced, had flown away. Instead, she caught sight of a figure

-stealing across the lawn towards the side door which opened from the

-library. Even in the dim light she could distinguish that it was

-Carnaby, Carnaby with something in his hand. What he carried she could

-not quite make out, but the sleeves of his flannel shirt were rolled

-up above his elbows in a fatally business-like way, and he walked with

-an air of stealth.

-

-"What mischief can that boy have been up to at this time of day?"

-thought Robinette as she lay down again, but she was too sleepy to

-wonder long.

-

-She forgot all about it until she saw Carnaby at the breakfast table

-some hours later. Sometimes the gloom of that meal--never a favorite

-or convivial one in the English household, and most certainly neither

-at Stoke Revel--would be enlivened by some of the boy's pranks. He

-would pass over to the sideboard, pepper-pot slyly in hand, and

-Rupert, whose meal at this hour consisted of grape-nuts and cream,

-would unaccountably sneeze and snuffle over his plate.

-

-"Bless it, Bobs!" his tormentor would exclaim tenderly. "Is it

-catching cold? Poor old Kitchener! Hi! _Kitch!_ _Kitch!_" (like a

-violent sneeze) and the outraged Rupert would forget grape-nuts and

-pepper alike in a fit of impotent fury. But this morning the dog fed

-in peace and Carnaby never glanced at him or his basin. Robinette,

-looking at the boy and remembering where she had seen him last,

-noticed that he was rather silent, that his cheeks were redder than

-common, and that under his eyes were lines of fatigue not usually

-there.

-

-"What were you doing on the lawn at four o'clock this morning?" she

-began, but checked herself, suddenly thinking that if Carnaby had been

-up to mischief she must not allude to it before his grandmother.

-

-No one had heard her. The meal dragged on. Robinette and Lavendar

-talked little. Miss Smeardon was preoccupied with the sufferings and

-the moods of Rupert. Mrs. de Tracy alone seemed in better spirits than

-usual; she was talkative and even balmy.

-

-"The work at the spinney begins to-day," she observed complacently,

-addressing herself to Lavendar and alluding to the rooting up of an

-old copse and the planting of a new one--an improvement she had long

-planned, though hitherto in vain. "The young trees have arrived."

-

-"But where is the money to come from?" enquired Carnaby suddenly, in

-a sepulchral tone. (His voice was at the disagreeable breaking stage,

-an agony and a shame to himself and always a surprise to others.) His

-grandmother stared: the others, too, looked in astonishment at the

-boy's red face.

-

-"I thought it had all been explained to you, Carnaby," said Mrs. de

-Tracy, "but you take so little interest in the estate that I suppose

-what you have been told went in at one ear and out at the other, as

-usual! It is the sale of land at Wittisham which makes these

-improvements possible, advantages drawn from a painful necessity," and

-the iron woman almost sighed.

-

-"There won't be any sale of land at Wittisham,--at least, not of Mrs.

-Prettyman's cottage," said Carnaby abruptly.

-

-"It is practically settled. The transfers only remain to be signed;

-you know that, Carnaby," said Lavendar curtly. He did not wish the

-vexed question to be raised again at a meal.

-

-"It _was_ practically settled--but it's all off now," said the boy,

-looking hard at his grandmother. "Waller R. A. won't want the place

-any more. The bloomin' plum tree's gone--cut down. The bargain's off,

-and old Mrs. Prettyman can stay on in her cottage as long as she

-likes!"

-

-There was a freezing silence, broken only by the stertorous breathing

-of Rupert on Miss Smeardon's lap.

-

-"Repeat, please, what you have just said, Carnaby," said his

-grandmother with dangerous calmness, "and speak distinctly."

-

-"I said that the cottage at Wittisham won't be sold because the plum

-tree's gone," repeated Carnaby doggedly. "It's been cut down."

-

-"How do you know?"

-

-"I've seen it." Carnaby raised his eyes. "I cut it down myself," he

-added, "this morning before daylight."

-

-"Who put such a thing into your head?" Mrs. de Tracy's words were ice:

-her glance of suspicion at Robinette, like the cold thrust of steel.

-"Who told you to cut the plum tree down?"

-

-"My conscience!" was Carnaby's unexpected reply. He was as red as

-fire, but his glance did not falter. Mrs. de Tracy rose. Not a muscle

-of her face had moved.

-

-"Whatever your action has been, Carnaby," she said with dignity--"whether

-foolish and disgraceful, or criminal and dangerous, it cannot be

-discussed here. You will follow me at once to the library, and

-presently I may send for Mark. A lawyer's advice will probably be

-necessary," she added grimly.

-

-Carnaby said not a word. He opened the door for his grandmother and

-followed her out; but as he passed Robinette, he looked at her

-earnestly, half expecting her applause; for one of the motives in his

-boyish mind had certainly been to please her--to shine in her eyes as

-the doer of bold deeds and to avenge her nurse's wrongs. And all that

-he had managed was to make her cry!

-

-For Robinette had put her elbows on the table and had covered her eyes

-with her hands. As he left the room, Carnaby could hear her

-exclamation:--

-

-"To cut down that tree! That beautiful, beautiful, fruitful thing! O!

-how could anyone do it?"

-

-So this was justice; this was all he got for his pains! How

-unaccountable women were!

-

-Lavendar awaited some time his summons to join Mrs. de Tracy and her

-grandson in what seemed to him must be a portentous interview enough,

-trying meanwhile somewhat unsuccessfully to console Mrs. Loring for

-the destruction of the plum tree, and exchanging with her somewhat

-awe-struck comments on the scene they had both just witnessed. No

-summons came, however; but half an hour later, he came across Carnaby

-alone, and an interview promptly ensued. He wanted to plumb the depth

-of the boy-mind and to learn exactly what motives had prompted

-Carnaby to this sudden and startling action in the matter of the plum

-tree.

-

-"Had you a bad quarter of an hour with your grandmother?" was his

-first question. Carnaby, he thought, looked subdued, and not much

-wonder.

-

-The boy hesitated.

-

-"Not so bad as I expected," was his answer. "The old lady was

-wonderfully decent, for her. She gave me a talking to, of course."

-

-"I should hope so!" interpolated Lavendar drily.

-

-"She jawed away about our poverty," continued Carnaby. "She's got

-that on the brain, as you know. She said that this loss of the

-money--Waller R. A.'s money, she means, of course--is an awful blow.

-She _said_ it was, but it seemed to me--" Carnaby paused, looking

-extremely puzzled.

-

-"It seemed to you--?" prompted Lavendar encouragingly.

-

-"That she wasn't so awfully cut up, after all," said Carnaby. "She

-seemed putting it on, if you know what I mean." Lavendar pricked up

-his ears. Mrs. de Tracy's intense reluctance to sell the land recurred

-to him in a flash. To get her consent had been like drawing a tooth,

-like taking her life-blood drop by drop. Could it be that she was not

-very sorry after all that the scheme had fallen through, secretly

-glad, indeed? It was conceivable that this was Mrs. de Tracy's view,

-but her grandson's motive was still obscure.

-

-"Why did you do it, Carnaby?" Lavendar asked with kindness and gravity

-both in his voice. "You have committed a very mischievous action, you

-know, one that would have borne a harsher name had the transfers been

-signed and had the plum tree changed hands."

-

-"But then I shouldn't have done it--you--you juggins, Mark!" cried the

-boy. "I've no earthly grudge against Waller R. A. If he'd actually

-bought the tree, it would have been too late, and his beastly

-money--"

-

-"You need the money, you know," remarked Lavendar. "Remember that, my

-young friend!"

-

-"It would have been dirty money!" said Carnaby, with a sudden

-flash that lit up his rather heavy face with a new expression.

-"You and Cousin Robin have been jolly polite when you thought I was

-listening, but _I_ know what you really thought, and the kind of

-things you were saying to one another about this business! You

-thought it beastly mean to take the cottage away from old Lizzie

-in the way it was being done, and sheer robbery to deprive her of

-the plum tree without paying her for it. I quite agreed with you

-there, and if I felt like that, do you think I could sit still and

-let the money come in to Stoke Revel--money that had been got in

-such a way? What do you take me for?" Lavendar was silent, looking

-at the boy in surprise. "Oh," continued Carnaby, "how I wish I were

-of age! Then I could show Cousin Robin, perhaps, what an English

-landlord can be! I mean that he can be a friend to his tenants, and

-kind and generous as well as just. As it is, Cousin Robin will go

-back to America and tell her friends what selfish brutes we are

-over here, and how jolly glad she was to get away!"

-

-"Mrs. Loring will carry no tales, I am sure," said Lavendar. "But tell

-me, my dear fellow, did you imagine that Mrs. Prettyman would be a

-gainer by your action?"

-

-"Well, why not?" answered the boy. "Didn't you tell me yourself that

-Waller R. A. wouldn't look at the cottage without the tree? What's to

-prevent the old woman living on where she is? Do you think there'll be

-a rush of new tenants for that precious old hovel? Go on! You know

-better than that!"

-

-"But the tree, Carnaby, the plum tree!" cried Lavendar. "My young

-Goth, hadn't you a moment's compunction? That beautiful, flowering

-thing, as your cousin called it; could you destroy it without a

-pang?"

-

-"The _tree_?" echoed Carnaby with unmeasured scorn. "What's a tree?

-It's just a tree, isn't it?"

-

-                    "A primrose by a river's brim

-                    A yellow primrose was to him,

-                    And it was nothing more!"

-

-quoted Mark, despairingly.

-

-"Well; and what more did he expect of a primrose, whoever the Johnny

-was?" asked the contemptuous Carnaby.

-

-"At any rate," commented Lavendar, "it isn't necessary to search as

-far as Peter Bell for an analogy for your character, my young friend!

-You are your grandmother's grandson after all!"

-

-"In some ways I suppose I can't help being," answered Carnaby soberly,

-"but not in all," he added, and suddenly turning red he fumbled in his

-pocket and produced a coin which he held out to Lavendar. "It's only

-ten bob," he said apologetically, "and I wish it was a jolly sight

-more! But please give it to old Mrs. Prettyman to make up a bit for

-the loss of her plums. Daresay I'll manage some more by and by.

-Anyway, I'll make it up to her when I come of age.--I'm nearly sixteen

-already, you know. Be sure you tell her that!"

-

-But Lavendar refused to take the money.

-

-"Mrs. Prettyman is provided for, my boy," he said. "She has become

-your cousin's especial care. You need have no fear about that. The

-poor old woman is very happy and will have a cottage more suited for

-her rheumatism and her general feebleness than the present one. But I

-think your cousin will understand your motives and believe that you

-meant well by old Lizzie in your little piece of midnight madness."

-

-"Though I was a bit rough on the plum tree!" said Carnaby, with a

-broad smile.

-

-"You think it's a laughing matter?" Lavendar asked indignantly. "I

-wish you had my father to deal with, and Waller R. A.! It's all very

-well for you."

-

-But Carnaby only laughed. The blood was still hot in his veins, and

-the joy of his night's adventure. Mark told him that he and Mrs.

-Loring were crossing the river at once to see for themselves the

-extent of his mischief and what effect it had had upon old Mrs.

-Prettyman. Carnaby observed with diabolical meaning that as he had not

-been invited to join the party, he would make himself scarce.

-Gooseberries, he said, were very good fruit, but he wasn't fond of

-them; so he lounged off with his hands in his pockets. Suddenly he

-turned. "See here, old Mark! You'll speak a word for me with Cousin

-Robin, won't you? It's hard on me to have her hate me when I was

-trying to do my best to please her."

-

-"She won't hate you; she couldn't hate anybody," said Lavendar

-absently, watching first the door and then the window.

-

-"You say that because you're in love with her! I've a couple of eyes

-in my head, stupid as you all think me. You can deny it all you like,

-but you won't convince me!"

-

-"I shan't deny it, Carnaby. I am so much in love with her at this

-moment that the room is whirling round and round and I can see two of

-you!"

-

-"Poor old Mark! Do you think she'll take you on?"

-

-"Can't say, Carnaby!"

-

-"You're a lucky beggar if she does; that's my opinion!" said the boy.

-

-"Put it as strong as you like, Carnaby," Lavendar answered. "You can't

-exaggerate my feelings on that subject!"

-

-"If you hadn't fifteen years' start of me I'd give you a run for your

-money!" exclaimed Carnaby with a daring look.

-

-

-

-

-XXIII

-

-DEATH AND LIFE

-

-

-While these incidents were taking place at the Manor House, village

-life at Wittisham had been stirring for hours. Thin blue threads of

-smoke were rising from the other cottages into the windless air: only

-from Nurse Prettyman's there was none. Duckie in the out-house quacked

-and gabbled as she had quacked and gabbled since the light began, yet

-no one came to let her out and feed her. The halfpenny jug of milk had

-been placed on the doorstep long ago, but Mrs. Prettyman had not yet

-opened the door to take it in.

-

-Outside in the garden, where the plum tree stood yesterday, there was

-now only a stump, hacked and denuded, and round about it a ruin of

-broken branches, leaves, and scattered blossoms. Over the wreck the

-bees were busy still, taking what they could of the honey that

-remained; and in the air was the strong odour of juicy green wood and

-torn bark.

-

-The children who brought the milk were the first to discover what had

-happened, and very soon the news spread amongst the other cottagers.

-Then came two neighbours to the scene, wondering and exclaiming. They

-went to the door, but Mrs. Prettyman did not answer their knock or

-their calling. Mrs. Darke looked in through the tiny window.

-

-"She be sleepin' that peaceful in 'er bed in there," she said, "it 'ud

-be a shame to wake 'er. She's deaf now, and belike she never 'eard the

-tree come down, 'ooever's done it. But I'll go and see after Duckie:

-she's makin' noise enough to rouse 'er, anyway."

-

-Then Duckie was released and fed and departed to gabble her wrongs to

-the other white ducks that were preening themselves amongst the deep

-green grass of the adjacent orchard.

-

-"You can 'ear that bird a mile away--she's never done talking!" said

-Mrs. Darke as the indignant gabble grew fainter in the distance. "But

-'ere's my old man a-come to look at the plum tree. Wonder what he'll

-say to it? This be a queer job, sure enough!"

-

-Old Darke, on two sticks, hobbled towards the scene of desolation with

-grunts of mingled satisfaction and dismay. 'Twas a rare sensation,

-though a pity, to be sure!

-

-Mrs. Darke stood by the well at the turn of the road, keeping a sharp

-eye on the cottage while she gossiped with the neighbour who was

-filling her pitcher. She did not want to miss the sight of Mrs.

-Prettyman's face when she opened her door and found out what had

-happened.

-

-"She be sleepin' too long; I'll go and waken her in a minute," said

-Mrs. Darke. "'Tis but right she should be told what's come to 'er

-tree, poor thing."

-

-Then a beggar woman selling bootlaces came along the shore of the

-river; she mounted the cottage steps and the gossips watched her

-trailing up the pathway in her loose old shoes, and knocking at the

-door. She waited for a few minutes: there was no answer, so she turned

-away resignedly and trailed off along the sun-lit lane, in-shore,

-leaving the garden gate swinging to and fro.

-

-"There's summat the matter!" Mrs. Darke had just whispered with

-evident enjoyment, when some one else was seen approaching the cottage

-from the direction of the pier. It was the young lady from the Manor,

-this time. She wore a white dress and a green scarf, and her face was

-tinted with colour. She looked like a young blossoming tree herself,

-all lacy white and pale green, a strange morning vision in a

-work-a-day world! Robinette ran quickly up the pathway and knocked at

-the door, but there was no answer to her knock. She called out in her

-clear voice:--

-

-"Good morning, Nurse! Good morning! Aren't you ready to let me in?

-It's quite late!" But there was no answer to her call. She was just

-trying to open the door, which seemed to be locked, when a gentleman

-came up from the boat and followed her to the cottage. That, the women

-who were watching her thought quite natural, for surely such a young

-lady would be followed by a lover wherever she went! Indeed, Mrs.

-Darke said so.

-

-"'Tis in that there kind," she observed philosophically, "like the

-cuckoo and the bird that follows; never sees one wi'out the other!"

-

-"'Tis quite that way, Mrs. Darke," agreed the neighbour, approvingly.

-

-Robinette turned a white face to Lavendar as he approached.

-

-"Nurse won't answer, and I can't get in!" she cried. "Something must

-have happened. I--I'm afraid to go in alone. The door is locked,

-too."

-

-"It's not locked," said Lavendar, and exerting a little strength, he

-pushed it open and gave a quick glance inside. "I'll go in first," he

-said gently. "Wait here."

-

-He came again to the threshold in a few minutes, a peculiar expression

-on his face which somehow seemed to tell Robinette what had happened.

-

-"Come in, Mrs. Robin," he said very gravely and gently. "You need not

-be afraid."

-

-Robinette instinctively held out her hand to him and they entered the

-little room together.

-

-She need not have feared for the old woman's distress over the ruined

-plum tree, for nothing would ever grieve Nurse Prettyman again. Just

-as she had lain down the night before, she lay upon her bed now,

-having passed away in her sleep. "And they that encounter Death in

-sleep," says the old writer, "go forth to meet him with desire." The

-aged face was turned slightly upwards and wore a look of contentment

-and repose that made life seem almost gaudy; a cheap thing to compare

-with this attainment....

-

-Robinette came out of the cottage a little later, leaving the

-neighbours who had gathered in the room to their familiar and not

-uncongenial duties. She went into the garden, where Mark Lavendar

-awaited her. He longed to try to comfort her; indeed, his whole heart

-ran out to her in a warmth and passion that astounded him; but her

-pale face, stained with weeping, warned him to keep silence yet a

-little while.

-

-"I just came for one branch of the blossom," Robinette said, "if it is

-not all withered. Yes, this is quite fresh still." She took a little

-spray he had found for her and stood holding it as she spoke. "Only

-yesterday it was all so lovely! Oh! Mr. Lavendar, I needn't cry for my

-old Nurse, I'm sure! How should I, after seeing her face? She had come

-to the end of her long life, and she was very tired, and now all that

-is forgotten, and she will never have a moment of vexation about her

-tree. I don't know why I should cry for her; but oh, how could

-Carnaby destroy that beautiful thing!"

-

-"It was a genuine though mistaken act of conscience! You must not be

-too hard on Carnaby!" pleaded Lavendar. "He would not touch the money

-that was to come from the sale of Mrs. Prettyman's cottage under the

-circumstances, so it seemed best to him that the sale should not take

-place, and he prevented it in the directest and simplest way that

-occurred to him. It's like some of the things that men have done to

-please God, Mrs. Robin," Mark added, smiling, "and thought they were

-doing it, too! But Carnaby only wanted to please you!"

-

-"To _please_ me!" exclaimed Robinette, looking round her at the ruin

-before them. "Oh dear!" she sighed, "how confusing the world is, at

-times! I am just going to take this snowy branch and lay it on Nurse's

-pillow. She so loved her tree! See; it's quite fresh and beautiful,

-and the dew still upon it, just like tears!"

-

-"That seemed just right," said Robinette softly as she came out into

-the sunshine again, a few minutes later. "I laid the blossoms in her

-kind old tired hands, the hands that have known so much work and so

-many pains. It is over, and after all, her new home is better than any

-I could have found for her!"

-

-The two walked slowly down the little garden on their way to the gate.

-As they passed, old Mr. Darke, who had hobbled around again to have

-another look at the fallen tree, addressed Lavendar solemnly.

-

-"Best tree in Wittisham 'e was, sir," touching the ruin of the

-branches as he spoke. "'Ooever could ha' thought o' sich a piece of

-wickedness as to cut 'im down? Murder, I calls it! 'Tis well as Mrs.

-Prettyman be gone to 'er rest wi'out knowledge of it; 'twould 'ave

-broken her old 'eart, for certain sure!"

-

-"It nearly breaks mine to see it now, Mr. Darke!" said Robinette in a

-trembling voice. But the old labourer bent down, moving his creaking

-joints with difficulty and steadying himself upon his sticks till he

-could touch the stump of the tree with his rough but skilful hands. He

-pushed away the long grass that grew about the roots and looked up at

-Robinette with a wise old smile.

-

-"'Tisn't dead and done for yet, Missy, never fear!" he said. "Give 'im

-time; give 'im time! 'E's cut above the graft--see! 'E'll grow and

-shoot and bear blossom and fruit same as ever 'e did, given time. See

-to the fine stock of 'im; firm as a rock in the good ground! And the

-roots, they be sound and fresh. 'E'll grow again, Missy; never you

-cry!"

-

-Robinette looked so beautiful as she lifted her luminous eyes and

-parted lips to old Darke, and then turned to him with a gesture of

-hope and joy, that again Lavendar could hardly keep from avowing his

-love; but the remembrance of the old nurse's still shape in the little

-cottage hushed the words that trembled on his lips.

-

-

-

-

-XXIV

-

-GRANDMOTHER AND GRANDSON

-

-

-The disagreeable duty of announcing Mrs. Prettyman's death to the lady

-of the Manor now lay before Lavendar and his companion, and the

-thought of it weighed upon their spirits as they crossed the river.

-Carnaby also must be told. How would he take it? Robinette, still

-under the shock of the plum tree's undoing, expected perhaps some

-further exhibition of youthful callousness, but Lavendar knew better.

-

-In their concern and sorrow, the young couple had forgotten all minor

-matters such as meals, and luncheon had long been over when they

-reached the house. They could see Mrs. de Tracy's figure in the

-drawing room as they passed the windows, occupying exactly her usual

-seat in her usual attitude. It was her hour for reading and

-disapproving of the daily paper.

-

-Robinette and Lavendar entered quietly, but nothing in the gravity of

-their faces struck Mrs. de Tracy as strange.

-

-"I have a disturbing piece of news to give you," Mark began, clearing

-his throat. "Mrs. Prettyman died last night in her cottage at

-Wittisham."

-

-The erect figure in the widow's weeds remained motionless. Perhaps the

-old hand that lowered the newspaper trembled somewhat, so that its

-diamonds quivered a little more than usual.

-

-"So Mrs. Prettyman is dead?" she said. Then, as the young people stood

-looking at her with an air of some expectancy, she added with a sour

-glance, "Do you expect me to be very much agitated by the news?"

-

-"The death was unexpected," began Lavendar lamely.

-

-"She was seventy-five; my age!" said Mrs. de Tracy with a wintry

-smile. "Is death at seventy-five so unexpected an event?"

-

-Lavendar said nothing; he had nothing to say, and Robinette for

-the same reason was silent. She was gazing at her aunt, almost

-unconsciously, with a wondering look. "At any rate," continued Mrs.

-de Tracy, addressing her niece, "your _protégée_ has been fortunate

-in two ways, Robinette. She will neither be turned out of her

-cottage nor see the destruction of her plum tree. By the way--"

-with a perfectly natural change of tone, dismissing at once both

-Mrs. Prettyman and Death--"the plum tree _is_ down, I suppose? You

-saw it?"

-

-"Very much down!" answered Lavendar. "And certainly we saw it! Carnaby

-does nothing by halves!"

-

-A slight change, a kind of shade of softening, passed over Mrs. de

-Tracy's stern features, as the shadow of a summer cloud may pass over

-a rocky hill. She turned suddenly to Robinette. "Can you tell me on

-your word of honour that you had nothing to do with Carnaby's action;

-that you did not put it into his head to cut the plum tree down!"

-

-"I?" exclaimed Robinette, scarlet with indignation. "_I?_ Why--do you

-want to know what I think of the action? I think it was perfectly

-brutal, and the boy who did it next door to a criminal! There!"

-

-Mrs. de Tracy seemed convinced by the energy of this disclaimer. "I

-have always considered yours a very candid character," she observed

-with condescension. "I believe you when you say that you did not

-influence Carnaby in the matter, though I strongly suspected you

-before."

-

-"Well, upon my word!" ejaculated Robinette when they had got out of

-the room, too completely baffled to be more original. "What does she

-mean? Has any one ever understood the workings of Aunt de Tracy's

-mind?"

-

-"Don't come to me for any more explanations! I've done my best for my

-client!" cried Lavendar. "I give up my brief! I always told you Mrs.

-de Tracy's character was entirely singular."

-

-"Let us hope so!" commented Robinette with energy. "I should be sorry

-for the world if it were plural!"

-

-                  *       *       *       *       *

-

-Carnaby was not in the house, and Lavendar proceeded to look for him

-out of doors. He knew the boy was often to be found in a high part of

-the grounds behind the garden, where he had some special resort of his

-own, and he went there first. The afternoon had clouded over, and a

-slight shower was falling, as Mark followed the wooded path leading up

-hill. A rock-garden bordered it, where ferns and flowers were growing,

-each one of which seemed to be contributing some special and delicate

-fragrance to the damp, warm air. The beech trees here had low and

-spreading branches which framed now and again exquisite glimpses of

-the river far below and the wooded hills beyond it.

-

-Lavendar had not gone far when he found Carnaby, Carnaby intensely

-perturbed, walking up and down by himself.

-

-"You don't need to tell me!" said the boy, with a quick and agitated

-gesture of the hand. "Bates told me. Old Mrs. Prettyman's dead!" His

-merry, square-set face was changed and looked actually haggard, and

-his eyes searched Lavendar's with an expression oddly different from

-their usual fearless and straightforward one. They seemed afraid. "Was

-it my grandmother's--was it our fault?" he asked. "I, I feel like a

-murderer. Upon my soul, I do!"

-

-"Don't encourage morbid ideas, my dear fellow!" said Lavendar in a

-matter-of-fact tone. "There's trouble enough in the world without

-foolish exaggeration. Mrs. Prettyman was 'grave-ripe,' as she often

-said to your cousin; a very feeble old woman, whose time had come. The

-doctor's certificate will tell you how rheumatism had affected her

-heart, and the neighbours would very soon set your mind at rest by

-describing the number of times poor old Lizzie had nearly died

-before."

-

-"Think of it, though!" said Carnaby with wondering eyes. "Think of her

-lying dead in the cottage while I hacked and hewed at the plum tree

-just outside! By Jove! it makes a fellow feel queer!" He shuddered.

-The picture he evoked was certainly a strange one enough: a strange

-picture in the moonlight of a night in spring; the doomed beauty of

-the blossoming tree, the blind, headstrong human energy working for

-its destruction, and Death over all, stealthy and strong!

-

-"What an ass I was!" said Carnaby, summing up the situation in the

-only language in which he could express himself. "Sweating and stewing

-and hacking away--thinking myself so awfully clever! And all the time

-things ... things were being arranged in quite a different manner!"

-

-"We are often made to feel our insignificance in ways like this,"

-said Lavendar. "We are very small atoms, Carnaby, in the path of the

-great forces that sweep us on."

-

-"I should rather think so!" assented the wondering boy. "And yet, can

-a fellow sit tight all the time and just wait till things happen?"

-

-"Ask me something else!" suggested Lavendar ironically.

-

-There was a short pause. "I'm awfully sorry old Mrs. Prettyman's

-dead," Carnaby said in a very subdued tone. "I meant to do a lot for

-her, to try and make up for my grandmother's being such a beast." He

-stopped short, and to Lavendar's astonishment, his face worked, and

-two tears squeezed themselves out of his eyes and rolled over his

-round cheeks as they might have done over a baby's. "It's the j-jam I

-was thinking of," he sniffed. "Once a pal of mine and I were playing

-the fool in old Mrs. Prettyman's garden, pretending to steal the

-plums, and giving her duck bits of bread steeped in beer to make it

-s-squiffy (a duck can be just as drunk as a chap). She didn't mind a

-bit. She was a regular old brick, and gave us a jolly good tea and a

-pot of jam to take away.... And now she's dead and--and...." Carnaby's

-feelings became too much for him again, and a handkerchief that had

-seen better and much cleaner days came into play. Lavendar flung an

-arm round the boy's shoulder.

-

-"This kind of regret comes to us all, Carnaby," he said. "I don't

-suppose there's a man with a heart in his breast who hasn't sometime

-had to say to himself, I might have done better: I might have been

-kinder: it's too late now! But it's never too late!" added Lavendar

-under his breath--"not where Love is!"

-

-The shower was over, and though the sun had not come out, a pleasant

-light lay upon the river as the friends walked down; upon the river

-beyond which old Lizzie Prettyman was sleeping so peacefully, the

-sleep of kings and beggars, and just and unjust, and rich and poor

-alike. Carnaby had dried his eyes but continued in a pensive mood.

-

-"Cousin Robin's still angry with me about the tree," he said,

-uncertainly.

-

-"She won't be angry long!" Lavendar assured him. "You and your Cousin

-Robin are going to be firm friends, friends for life."

-

-Carnaby seemed a good deal comforted. "Mind you don't tell her I

-blubbered!" he said in sudden alarm. "Swear!"

-

-"She wouldn't think a bit the worse of you for that!" said Lavendar.

-

-"Swear, though!" repeated Carnaby in deadly earnest.

-

-And Lavendar swore, of course.

-

-                  *       *       *       *       *

-

-But an influence very unlike Lavendar's and a spirit very different

-from Robinette's enfolded Carnaby de Tracy in his home and fought, as

-it were, for his soul. That night, after the last lamp had been put

-out by the careful Bates, and after Benson had bade a respectful

-good-night to her mistress, a light still burned in Mrs. de Tracy's

-room. Presently, carried in her hand, it flitted out along the silent

-passages, past rows of doors which were closed upon empty rooms or

-upon unconscious sleepers, till it came to Carnaby's door; to the

-Boys' Room, as that far-away and most unluxurious apartment had always

-been called. Mrs. de Tracy was making a pilgrimage to the shrine of

-one of her gods. She opened the door, and closing it gently behind

-her, she stood beside Carnaby's bed and looked at him, intently and

-haggardly.

-

-Mrs. de Tracy's was a singular character, as Mark Lavendar had said.

-The circumstances of her widowhood with its heavy responsibilities had

-perhaps hardly been fair to her. There had been little room for the

-kindlier and softer feelings, though it is to be feared that they

-would not have found much congenial soil in her heart. The personal

-selfishness in her had long been merged in the greater and harder

-selfishness of caste; she had become a mere machine for the keeping up

-of Stoke Revel.

-

-But to-night she was moved by the positively human sentiment which had

-been stirred in her by Carnaby's startling act of cutting the plum

-tree down. Ah! let fools believe if they could that she was angry with

-the boy! She had never felt anger less or pride more. While others

-talked and argued, shilly-shallied, made love, muddled and made

-mistakes, her grandson, the man of the race that always ruled, had cut

-the knot for himself, without hesitation and without compunction,

-without consulting anyone or asking anyone's leave. That was the way

-the de Tracys had always acted. And it seemed to Mrs. de Tracy a

-crowning coincidence, a fitting kind of poetical justice, that

-Carnaby's action should actually have prevented the sale of the land;

-that dreaded, detestable sale of the first land that the de Tracys

-had held upon the banks of the river.

-

-So, since Carnaby was to be a man of the right kind, his grandmother

-had come to look at him, not in love, as other women come to such

-bedsides, but in pride of heart. The boy, after his "white night" at

-Wittisham and the varied emotions of the succeeding day, lay on his

-side, in the deep, recuperative sleep of youth whence its energies are

-drawn and in which its vigors are renewed. His round cheek indented

-the pillow, his rumpled hair stirred in the breeze that blew in at the

-window, his arm and his open hand, relaxed, lay along the sheet.

-Another woman would have straightened the bed-clothes above him;

-another might have touched his hair or hand; another kissed his cheek.

-But not even because he was like her departed husband, like the man

-who five and fifty years before had courted a certain cold and proud,

-handsome and penniless Miss Augusta Gallup, would Mrs. de Tracy do

-these things. She had had her sensation, such as it was, her secret

-moment of emotion, and was satisfied. She left the room as she had

-come, the candle casting exaggerated shadows of herself upon the walls

-where Carnaby's bats and fishing rods and sporting prints hung.

-

-It is sad to be old as Mrs. de Tracy was old, but her age was of her

-own making, a shrinkage of the heart, a drying up of the wells of

-feeling that need not have been.

-

-"I should be better out of the way," her bitterness said within her,

-and alas! it was true. Her great, gaunt room seemed very lonely, very

-full of shadows when she returned to it. Rupert, who always slept at

-her bedside, awaited her. Disturbed at this unwonted hour, he stirred

-in his basket, wheezed and gurgled, turned round and round and could

-not get comfortable, whined, and looked up in his mistress's face. She

-stood watching him with a sort of grim pity, and, strangely enough,

-bestowed upon him the caress she had not found for her grandson.

-

-"Poor Rupert! You are getting too old, like your mistress! Your

-departure, like hers, will be a sorrow to no one!" Rupert seemed to

-wheeze an asthmatical consent, and presently he snuggled down in his

-basket and went to sleep.

-

-

-

-

-XXV

-

-THE BELLS OF STOKE REVEL

-

-

-On Sunday morning Robinette and Lavendar were both ready for church,

-by some strange coincidence, half an hour too soon. He was standing at

-the door as she came down into the hall. Mrs. de Tracy and Miss

-Smeardon were nowhere to be seen; even Carnaby was invisible, but the

-shrill, infuriated yelping of the Prince Charles from the drawing room

-indicated his whereabouts only too plainly.

-

-"We're much too early," said Robinette, glancing at the clock.

-

-"Shall we walk through the buttercup meadow, then--you and I?" asked

-Lavendar. His voice was low, and Robinette answered very softly. She

-wore a white dress that morning without a touch of colour.

-

-"I couldn't wear black to-day for Nurse," she said, in answer to his

-glance, "but I couldn't wear any colour, either."

-

-"You're as white as the plum tree was!" said Lavendar. "I remember

-thinking that it looked like a bride." Robinette made no reply. He

-ventured to look up at her as he spoke, and she was smiling although

-her lip quivered and her eyes were full of tears. Lavendar's heart

-beat uncomfortably fast as they walked through the meadow towards the

-stile which led into the churchyard.

-

-"It's too soon to go in yet," he said. "The bells haven't begun."

-

-"Let's stop here. It's cool in the shadow," said Robinette. She leaned

-on the wall and looked out at the shining reaches of the river. "The

-swelling of Jordan is over now," she said with a little smile and a

-sigh. "The tide has come up, and how quiet everything is!"

-

-The water mirrored the hills and the ships and the gracious sky above

-them. There was scarcely a sound in the air. At the point where they

-stood, the Manor House was hidden from view, and only the squat old

-tower of the church was visible, and the yew tree rising above the

-wall against the golden field. A bush of briar covered with white

-roses hung above them, just behind Robinette, and Lavendar looking at

-her in this English setting on an English Sunday morning, wondered to

-himself, as he had so often done before, if she could ever make this

-country her home.

-

-"Yet she has English blood as well as I," he thought. "Why, the very

-name on the old bells of the church there, records the memory of an

-ancestress of hers! We cannot be so far apart." Looking at her

-standing there, he rehearsed to himself all that he meant to say, oh,

-a great many things both true and eloquent, but at that moment every

-word forsook him. Yet this was probably the best opportunity he would

-have of telling her what was burning in his heart: telling her how she

-had beguiled him at first by her quick understanding and her

-frolicsome wit, because all that sort of thing was so new to him. She

-had come like a mountain spring to a thirsty man. He had been groping

-for inspiration and for help: now he seemed to find them all in her.

-She was so much more than charming, though it was her charm that first

-impressed him; so much more than pretty, though her face attracted him

-at first; so much more than magnetic, though she drew him to her at

-their first meeting with bonds as delicate as they were strong. These

-were tangible, vital, legitimate qualities--but were they all? Could

-lips part so, could eyes shine so, could voice tremble so, if there

-were not something underneath; a good heart, fidelity, warmth of

-nature?

-

-"For the first time," he thought, "I long to be worthy of a woman. But

-I would not tell her how I love her at this moment, unless I felt I

-need not be wholly unequal to her demands. I have never desired

-anything strongly enough to struggle for it, up to now; but she has

-set my springs in motion, and I can work for her until I die!"

-

-All this he thought, but never a word he said. Then the church clock

-struck and the clashing bells began. They shook the air, the earth,

-the ancient stones, the very nests upon the trees, and sent the rooks

-flying black as ink against the yellow buttercups in the meadow.

-

-"We must go, in a few minutes," said Robinette. "Oh, will you pull me

-some of those white roses up there?"

-

-Lavendar swung himself up and drawing down a bunch he pulled off two

-white buds.

-

-"Will you take them?" he asked, holding them out to her. Then suddenly

-he said, very low and very humbly, "Oh, take me too; take me,

-Robinette, though no man was ever so unworthy!"

-

-Robinette laid the roses on the wall beside her.

-

-"For my part," she said, turning to Lavendar with a little laugh that

-was half a sob; "for my part, I like giving better than taking!" She

-put both her hands in his and looked into his face. "Here is my

-life," she said simply. "I want to belong to you, to help you, to live

-by your side."

-

-"I oughtn't to take you at your word," he said, his voice choked with

-emotion. "You are far too good for me!"

-

-"Hush," Robinetta answered, putting a finger on his lip; "it isn't a

-question of how great you are or how wonderful: it's a question of

-what we can be to each other. I'd rather have you than the Duke of

-Wellington or Marcus Aurelius, and I believe you wouldn't change me

-for Helen of Troy!"

-

-"I have nothing to bring you, nothing," said Lavendar again, "nothing

-but my love and my whole heart."

-

-"If all the kingdoms of the earth were offered to me instead, I would

-still take you and what you give me," Robinette answered.

-

-Lavendar laid his cheek against her bright hair and sighed deeply. In

-that sigh there passed away all former things, and behold, all things

-became new. Two cuckoos answered each other from opposite banks of the

-river and two hearts sang songs of joy that met and mingled and

-floated upward.

-

-Again the bells broke out overhead, filling the air with music that

-had rung from them ever since just such another morning hundreds of

-years before, when they rang their first peal from the church tower,

-bearing the legend newly cut upon them: "Pray for the Soul of Anne de

-Tracy, 1538." And Anne de Tracy's memory was forgotten--so long

-forgotten--except for the bells that carried her name!

-

-Yet in these same meadows that she must have known, spring was come

-once more. The Devonshire plum trees had budded and blossomed and shed

-their petals year after year, and year after year, since the bells

-first swung in the air; and now Hope was born once again, and Youth,

-and Love, which is immortal!

-

-

-

-

-The Riverside Press

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-THE PROFESSIONAL AUNT

-

-By MARY C. E. WEMYSS

-

-"One of the most delightful stories that has ever crossed the

-water."--_Louisville Courier-Journal._

-

-"The legitimate successor of 'Helen's Babies.'"--_Clara Louise

-Burnham._

-

-"A classic in the literature of childhood."--_San Francisco

-Chronicle._

-

-"Mrs. Wemyss is a formidable rival to E. Nesbit, who hitherto has

-stood practically alone as a charmingly humorous interpreter of child

-life."--_Chicago Inter-Ocean._

-

-"A charming, witty, tender book."--_Kate Douglas Wiggin._

-

-"It is a sunny, warm-hearted humorous story, that leaves the reader

-with a sense of time well spent in its perusal."--_Brooklyn Eagle._

-

-HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY

-

-BOSTON AND NEW YORK

-

-

-

-

-

-End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Robinetta, by 

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-<h1>ROBINETTA</h1>

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-<p class='tp' style='font-size:1.4em;margin-bottom:10px;'>By Kate Douglas Wiggin</p>

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-<p class='kdw'>ROBINETTA. Illustrated. 12mo, $1.10 <i>net</i>. Postage, 10 cents.</p>

-<p class='kdw'>REBECCA OF SUNNYBROOK FARM. Holiday Edition. Illustrated. Crown 8vo, $1.50.</p>

-<p class='kdw'>SUSANNA AND SUE. Illustrated by <span class='smcap'>Alice Barber Stephens</span>. Crown 8vo, $1.50 <i>net</i>. Postage 15 cents.</p>

-<p class='kdw'>THE OLD PEABODY PEW. With decorations and illustrations. Large crown 8vo, $1.50.</p>

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-<p class='kdw'>NEW CHRONICLES OF REBECCA. Illustrated by F. C. <span class='smcap'>Yohn</span>. 12mo, $1.25.</p>

-<p class='kdw'>ROSE O&rsquo; THE RIVER. Illustrated in color. 12mo, 1.25.</p>

-<p class='kdw'>THE AFFAIR AT THE INN. Illustrated. 12mo, $1.25.</p>

-<p class='kdw'>THE DIARY OF A GOOSE GIRL. Illustrated. 12mo, $1.00.</p>

-<p class='kdw'>A CATHEDRAL COURTSHIP, AND PENELOPE&rsquo;S ENGLISH EXPERIENCES. Illustrated. 16mo, $1.00.</p>

-<p class='kdw'>PENELOPE&rsquo;S PROGRESS. 16mo, $1.25.</p>

-<p class='kdw'>PENELOPE&rsquo;S IRISH EXPERIENCES. 16mo, $1.25.</p>

-<p class='kdw'>PENELOPE&rsquo;S EXPERIENCES. I. England; II. Scotland; III. Ireland; <i>Holiday Edition</i>. With many illustrations by <span class='smcap'>Charles E. Brock</span>. 3 vols., each 12mo, $2.00; the set, $6.00.</p>

-<p class='kdw'>A CATHEDRAL COURTSHIP. <i>Holiday Edition</i>, enlarged. Illustrated by C. E. <span class='smcap'>Brock</span>. 12mo, $1.50.</p>

-<p class='kdw'>THE BIRDS&rsquo; CHRISTMAS CAROL. Illustrated. Square 12mo, 50 cents.</p>

-<p class='kdw'>THE STORY OF PATSY. Illustrated. Square 12mo, 60 cents.</p>

-<p class='kdw'>A SUMMER IN  A CAÑON. A California Story. Illustrated. 16mo, $1.25. </p>

-<p class='kdw'>TIMOTHY&rsquo;S QUEST. A Story for Anybody, Young or Old, who cares to read it. 16mo, $1.00. <i>Holiday Edition.</i> Illustrated. Crown 8vo, $1.50.</p>

-<p class='kdw'>POLLY OLIVER&rsquo;S PROBLEM. Illustrated. 16mo, $1.00. In Riverside School Library. 60 cents, <i>net</i>; postpaid.</p>

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-<p class='kdw'>MARM LISA. 16mo, $1.00.</p>

-<p class='kdw'>NINE LOVE SONGS, AND A CAROL. Music by Mrs. <span class='smcap'>Wiggin</span>. Words by <span class='smcap'>Herrick, Sill</span>, and others. Square 8vo, $1.25.</p>

-<p class='tp' style='margin-top:10px;'>HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY</p>

-<p class='tp' style='font-variant:small-caps;'>Boston and New York</p>

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-</div>

-<div class='figcenter'>

-<img src='images/illus-fpc.jpg' alt='' title='' width='362' height='595' /><br />

-</div>

-<hr class='pb' />

-<div class='figtag'>

-<a name='linki_3' id='linki_3'></a>

-</div>

-<div class='figcenter'>

-<img src='images/illus-tpg.jpg' alt='' title='' width='362' height='600' /><br />

-</div>

-<hr class='pb' />

-<p class='tp' style='font-size:smaller;margin-bottom:10px;margin-top:20px;'>COPYRIGHT, 1910 AND 1911, BY KATE DOUGLAS RIGGS<br />COPYRIGHT, 1911, BY HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY</p>

-<p class='tp' style='font-size:smaller;margin-bottom:10px;'>ALL RIGHTS RESERVED</p>

-<p class='tp' style='font-size:smaller;margin-bottom:20px;'><i>Published February 1911</i></p>

-<hr class='pb' />

-<h3>CONTENTS</h3>

-<table border='0' cellpadding='2' cellspacing='0' summary='Contents' style='margin:1em auto;'>

-<tr>

-  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>I.</td>

-  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>The Plum Tree</span></td>

-  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#I_THE_PLUM_TREE'>1</a></td>

-</tr>

-<tr>

-  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>II.</td>

-  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>The Manor House</span></td>

-  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#II_THE_MANOR_HOUSE'>7</a></td>

-</tr>

-<tr>

-  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>III.</td>

-  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Young Mrs. Loring</span></td>

-  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#III_YOUNG_MRS_LORING'>19</a></td>

-</tr>

-<tr>

-  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>IV.</td>

-  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>A Chilly Reception</span></td>

-  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#IV_A_CHILLY_RECEPTION'>29</a></td>

-</tr>

-<tr>

-  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>V.</td>

-  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>At Wittisham</span></td>

-  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#V_AT_WITTISHAM'>39</a></td>

-</tr>

-<tr>

-  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>VI.</td>

-  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Mark Lavendar</span></td>

-  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#VI_MARK_LAVENDAR'>54</a></td>

-</tr>

-<tr>

-  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>VII.</td>

-  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>A Cross-Examination</span></td>

-  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#VII_A_CROSSEXAMINATION'>69</a></td>

-</tr>

-<tr>

-  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>VIII.</td>

-  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Sunday at Stoke Revel</span></td>

-  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#VIII_SUNDAY_AT_STOKE_REVEL'>87</a></td>

-</tr>

-<tr>

-  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>IX.</td>

-  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Points of View</span></td>

-  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#IX_POINTS_OF_VIEW'>99</a></td>

-</tr>

-<tr>

-  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>X.</td>

-  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>A New Kinsman</span></td>

-  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#X_A_NEW_KINSMAN'>113</a></td>

-</tr>

-<tr>

-  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XI.</td>

-  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>The Sands at Weston</span></td>

-  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XI_THE_SANDS_AT_WESTON'>127</a></td>

-</tr>

-<tr>

-  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XII.</td>

-  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Love in the Mud</span></td>

-  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XII_LOVE_IN_THE_MUD'>151</a></td>

-</tr>

-<tr>

-  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XIII.</td>

-  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Carnaby to the Rescue</span></td>

-  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XIII_CARNABY_TO_THE_RESCUE'>170</a></td>

-</tr>

-<tr>

-  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XIV.</td>

-  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>The Empty Shrine</span></td>

-  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XIV_THE_EMPTY_SHRINE'>181</a></td>

-</tr>

-<tr>

-  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XV.</td>

-  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>&ldquo;Now Lubin Is Away&rdquo;</span></td>

-  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XV_NOW_LUBIN_IS_AWAY'>194</a></td>

-</tr>

-<tr>

-  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XVI.</td>

-  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Two Letters</span></td>

-  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XVI_TWO_LETTERS'>210</a></td>

-</tr>

-<tr>

-  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XVII.</td>

-  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Mrs. de Tracy crosses the Ferry</span></td>

-  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XVII_MRS_DE_TRACY_CROSSES_THE_FERRY'>217</a></td>

-</tr>

-<tr>

-  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XVIII.</td>

-  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>The Stoke Revel Jewels</span></td>

-  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XVIII_THE_STOKE_REVEL_JEWELS'>234</a></td>

-</tr>

-<tr>

-  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XIX.</td>

-  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Lawyer and Client</span></td>

-  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XIX_LAWYER_AND_CLIENT'>250</a></td>

-</tr>

-<tr>

-  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XX.</td>

-  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>The New Home</span></td>

-  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XX_THE_NEW_HOME'>260</a></td>

-</tr>

-<tr>

-  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XXI.</td>

-  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Carnaby Cuts the Knot</span></td>

-  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XXI_CARNABY_CUTS_THE_KNOT'>273</a></td>

-</tr>

-<tr>

-  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XXII.</td>

-  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Consequences</span></td>

-  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XXII_CONSEQUENCES'>284</a></td>

-</tr>

-<tr>

-  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XXIII.</td>

-  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Death and Life</span></td>

-  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XXIII_DEATH_AND_LIFE'>299</a></td>

-</tr>

-<tr>

-  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XXIV.</td>

-  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Grandmother and Grandson</span></td>

-  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XXIV_GRANDMOTHER_AND_GRANDSON'>309</a></td>

-</tr>

-<tr>

-  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XXV.</td>

-  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>The Bells of Stoke Revel</span></td>

-  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XXV_THE_BELLS_OF_STOKE_REVEL'>324</a></td>

-</tr>

-</table>

-<hr class='pb' />

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_1' name='page_1'></a>1</span></div>

-<h2>ROBINETTA</h2>

-<div class='chsp' style='padding-top:0'>

-<a name='I_THE_PLUM_TREE' id='I_THE_PLUM_TREE'></a>

-<h2>I</h2>

-<h3>THE PLUM TREE</h3>

-</div>

-<p>At Wittisham several of the little houses

-had crept down very close to the river. Mrs.

-Prettyman&rsquo;s cottage was just like a hive

-made for the habitation of some gigantic

-bee; its pointed roof covered with deep,

-close-cut thatch the colour of a donkey&rsquo;s hide.

-There were small windows under the overhanging

-eaves, a pathway of irregular flat

-stones ran up to the doorway, and a bit of

-low wall divided the tiny garden from the

-river. The Plum Tree grew just beside

-the wall, so near indeed that it could look

-at itself on spring days when the water

-was like a mirror. In autumn the branches

-on that side of the tree were the first to be

-shaken, lest any of the fruit should fall down

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_2' name='page_2'></a>2</span>

-and be lost. Sometimes a village child treading

-cautiously on bare toes amongst the

-stones along the narrow margin, would

-pounce upon a plum with a squeal of joy,

-for although the village was surrounded with

-orchards, the fruit of Mrs. Prettyman&rsquo;s tree

-had a flavour all its own.</p>

-<p>The tree had been given to her by a

-nephew who was a gardener in a great fruit

-orchard in the North, and her husband had

-planted and tended it for years. It began life

-as a slender thing with two or three rods of

-branches, that looked as if the first wind of

-winter would blow it away, but before the

-storms came, it had begun to trust itself to

-the new earth, and to root itself with force

-and determination. There were good soil

-and water near it, and plenty of sunshine,

-and, as is the way of Nature, it set itself to

-do its own business at all seasons, unlike the

-distracted heart of man. The traffic of the

-river came and went; around the headland

-the big ships were steering in, or going out

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_3' name='page_3'></a>3</span>

-to sea; and in the village the human life

-went on while the Plum Tree grew high

-enough to look over the wall. Its stem by

-that time had a firm footing; next it took a

-charming bend to the side, and then again

-threw out new branches in that direction. It

-turned itself from the prevailing wind, throwing

-a new grace into its attitude, and went

-on growing; returning in blossom and leaves

-and fruit an hundredfold for all that it received

-from the earth and the sun.</p>

-<p>In spring it was enchanting; at first, before

-the blossoms came out, with small bright

-leaves, and buds like pearls, heaped upon

-the branches; then, later, when the whole

-tree was white, imaged like a bride, in the

-looking-glass of the river. It only wanted

-a nightingale to sing in it by moonlight.

-There were no nightingales there, but the

-thrushes sang in the dawning, and the little

-birds whose voices were sweet and thin chirruped

-about it in crowds, while the larks,

-trilling out the ardour of mating time, sometimes

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_4' name='page_4'></a>4</span>

-rose from their nests in the grass and

-soared over its topmost branches on their

-skyward flight.</p>

-<p>Spring, therefore, was its merriest time,

-for then every passer-by would cry, &ldquo;What

-a beautiful tree!&rdquo; or &ldquo;Did ye ever see the

-likes of it?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>There were a few days of inevitable sadness

-a little later when its million petals fell

-and made a delicate carpet of snow on the

-ground. There they lay in a kind of fairy

-ring, as if there had been a shower of

-mother-of-pearl in the April night; and no

-human creature would have dared set a vandal

-foot on that magic circle, and mar the perfection

-of its beauty. All the same the Plum

-Tree had lost its petals, and that was hard

-to bear at first. But though its Wittisham

-neighbours often said to summer trippers, &ldquo;I

-wish you could have seen it in blossom!&rdquo; the

-Plum Tree did not repine, because of the

-secrets&ndash;&ndash;the thousand, thousand secrets&ndash;&ndash;it

-held under its leaves. &ldquo;The blossoms were

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_5' name='page_5'></a>5</span>

-but a promise,&rdquo; it thought, &ldquo;and soon everybody

-will see the meaning of them.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Then the tiny green globes began to appear

-on every branch and twig; crowding,

-crowding, crowding till it seemed as if there

-could never be room for so many to grow;

-but the weaker ones fell from the boughs or

-were blown away when the wind was fierce,

-so the Plum Tree felt no anxiety, knowing

-that it was built for a large family! The little

-green globes grew and grew, and drank

-in sweet mother-juices, and swelled, and

-when the summer sun touched their cheeks

-all day they flushed and reddened, till when

-August came the tree was laden with purpling

-fruit; fruit so tempting that its rosy

-beauty had sometimes to be hidden under

-a veil of grey fishing net, lest the myriad

-bird-friends it had made during the summer

-should love it too much for its own

-good.</p>

-<p>So the Plum Tree grew and flourished,

-taking its part in the pageant of the seasons,

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_6' name='page_6'></a>6</span>

-unaware that its existence was to be interwoven

-with that of men; or that creatures

-of another order of being were to owe some

-changes in their fortunes to its silent obedience

-to the motive of life.</p>

-<hr class='toprule' />

-<div class='chsp'>

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_7' name='page_7'></a>7</span>

-<a name='II_THE_MANOR_HOUSE' id='II_THE_MANOR_HOUSE'></a>

-<h2>II</h2>

-<h3>THE MANOR HOUSE</h3>

-</div>

-<p>The long, low drawing room of the Manor

-at Stoke Revel was the warmest and most

-genial room in the old Georgian house. It

-was four-windowed and faced south, and

-even on this morning of a chilly and backward

-spring, the tentative sunshine of April

-had contrived to put out the fire in the steel

-grate. One of the windows opened wide to

-the garden, and let in a scent which was less

-of flowers than of the promise of flowers&ndash;&ndash;a

-scent of earth and green leaves, of the leafless

-daphne still a-bloom in the shrubbery,

-of hyacinths and daffodils and tulips and

-primroses still sheathed in their buds and

-awaiting a warmer air.</p>

-<p>But this promise of spring borne into the

-room by the wandering breeze from the river,

-was nipped, as it were, by the frigid spirit of

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_8' name='page_8'></a>8</span>

-age and formalism in its living occupants.

-Mrs. de Tracy, a lady of seventy-five, sat at her

-writing-table. Her companion, Miss Smeardon,

-a person of indeterminate age, nursed

-the lap-dog Rupert during such time as her

-employer was too deeply engaged to fulfil

-that agreeable duty. Mrs. de Tracy, as she

-wrote, was surrounded by countless photographs

-of her family and her wide connection,

-most prominent among them two&ndash;&ndash;that of

-her husband, Admiral de Tracy, who had died

-many years ago, and that of her grandson,

-his successor, whose guardian she was, and

-whose minority she directed. Her eldest son,

-the father of this boy, who had died on his

-ship off the coast of Africa; his wife, dead

-too these many years; her other sons as

-well (she had borne four); their wives and

-children&ndash;&ndash;grown men, fashionable women,

-beautiful children, fat babies: the likenesses

-of them all were around her, standing amid

-china and flowers and bric-a-brac on the

-crowded tables and what-nots of the not inharmonious

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_9' name='page_9'></a>9</span>

-and yet shabby Victorian room.

-Mrs. de Tracy, it might at a glance be seen,

-was no innovator, either in furniture, in

-dress, or probably in ideas. As she was dressed

-now, in the severely simple black of a widow,

-so she had been dressed when she first

-mourned Admiral de Tracy. The muslin ends

-of her widow&rsquo;s cap fell upon her shoulders,

-and its border rested on the hard lines of

-iron-grey hair which framed a face small,

-pale, aquiline in character and decidedly

-austere in expression.</p>

-<p>She took one from a docketed pile of letters

-and held it up under her glasses, the

-sun suddenly striking a dazzle of blue and

-green from the diamond rings on her small,

-withered hands. Then she read it aloud to her

-companion in an even and chilly voice. She

-had read it before, in the same way, at the

-same hour, several times. The letter, couched

-in an epistolary style largely dependent upon

-underlining, appeared to contain, nevertheless,

-some matter of moment. It was dated

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_10' name='page_10'></a>10</span>

-from Eaton Square, in London, some weeks

-before, and signed Maria Spalding. (&ldquo;Her

-mother was a Gallup,&rdquo; Mrs. de Tracy would

-say, if any one asked who Maria Spalding

-was; and this was considered sufficient, for

-Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s maiden name had been

-Gallup,&ndash;&ndash;not euphonious but nevertheless

-aristocratic.)</p>

-<hr class='tb' />

-<p><span class='smcap'>My dear Augusta</span> (Maria Spalding

-wrote): I am going to ask you to help me

-out of a <i>difficulty</i>. There is no <i>use</i> beating

-about the bush. You know that Cynthia&rsquo;s

-daughter Robinetta (Loring is her <i>married</i>

-name) has been with me for a month. <i>American</i>

-or no <i>American</i>, I meant to have had

-her for a part of the season, and to <i>present</i>

-her, if possible (so <i>good</i> for these Americans

-to learn what royalty <i>is</i> and to breathe the

-atmosphere which doth hedge a <i>King</i> as

-Shakespeare says, and which they can never

-<i>have</i>, of course, in a country like theirs). I

-know you can&rsquo;t <i>approve</i>, dear Augusta, and

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_11' name='page_11'></a>11</span>

-you will blame me for sentimentality&ndash;&ndash;but

-I never <i>can</i> forget what a <i>sweet</i> creature

-Cynthia was before she ran away with that

-odious American&ndash;&ndash;and my <i>greatest</i> friend

-in girlhood, too, you must remember. So

-Robinette, as she is generally called, has come

-to my house as a <i>home</i>, but a most <i>unlucky</i>

-thing has happened. I have had influenza so

-badly that it has affected my <i>heart</i> (an old

-trouble), I am ordered to Nauheim, and Robinette

-is <i>stranded</i>, poor dear. She has few

-friends in London and certainly none who

-can put her up. Tho&rsquo; she <i>is</i> a widow, she is

-only twenty-two (just <i>imagine</i>!), very pretty,

-and really, tho&rsquo; you won&rsquo;t believe it, <i>quite</i>

-nice. I am <i>desperate</i>, and just wondering if

-you would let by-gones be by-gones, and

-receive her at Stoke Revel. She has set her

-heart upon seeing the place, and some <i>picture</i>

-she was called after (I can&rsquo;t remember it, so

-it can&rsquo;t be one of the <i>famous</i> Stoke Revel

-group&ndash;&ndash;a <i>copy</i>, I fancy), and on paying a

-visit to Lizzie Prettyman, her mother&rsquo;s old

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_12' name='page_12'></a>12</span>

-nurse at Wittisham over the river. She <i>promised</i>

-her mother she would do this&ndash;&ndash;and

-such a promise is <i>sacred</i>, don&rsquo;t you think?

-It&rsquo;s such an <i>old</i> story now, Cynthia&rsquo;s American

-marriage, and no fault of <i>Robinette&rsquo;s</i>,

-poor dear child. Her wish is almost a <i>pious</i>

-one, don&rsquo;t you agree, to pay respect to her

-mother&rsquo;s memory and the family, and is <i>much</i>

-to be encouraged in these days of radicalism,

-when every natural tie is loosened and people

-pay no more <i>respect</i> to their parents than

-if they hadn&rsquo;t any, but had made themselves

-and brought themselves up from the beginning.

-So don&rsquo;t you think it&rsquo;s a <i>good</i> thing

-to encourage the <i>right</i> kind of feeling in

-Robinette, especially as she is an <i>American</i>,

-you know....</p>

-<hr class='tb' />

-<p>Mrs. de Tracy paused, and replaced the

-letter in the package from which she had

-withdrawn it.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Maria Spalding&rsquo;s point of view,&rdquo; she

-observed, &ldquo;has, I confess, helped me to overcome

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_13' name='page_13'></a>13</span>

-the extreme reluctance I felt to receive

-the child of that American here. Cynthia

-de Tracy&rsquo;s elopement nearly broke my dear

-husband&rsquo;s heart. She was the apple of his eye

-before our marriage; so much younger than

-himself that she was like his child rather than

-his sister.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;What a shock it must have been!&rdquo; murmured

-the companion. &ldquo;What ingratitude!

-Can you really receive her child? Of course

-you know best, Mrs. de Tracy; but it seems

-a risk.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Hardly a risk,&rdquo; rejoined Mrs. de Tracy

-with dignity. &ldquo;But it is a trial to me, and

-an effort that I scarcely feel called upon to

-make.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Miss Smeardon was so well versed in her

-duties that she knew she always had to urge

-her employer to do exactly what she most

-wanted to do, and the poor creature had developed

-a really wonderful ingenuity in divining

-what these wishes were. Just now, however,

-she was, to use a sporting phrase, &ldquo;at

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_14' name='page_14'></a>14</span>

-fault&rdquo; for a minute. She could not exactly

-tell whether Mrs. de Tracy wanted to be

-urged to ask her niece to Stoke Revel, or

-whether she wanted to be supplied with a

-really plausible excuse for not doing so.

-Those of you who have seen a hound at fault

-can imagine the companion at this moment:

-irresolute, tense, desperately anxious to find

-and follow up the right scent. Compromise,

-that useful refuge, came to her aid.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It <i>is</i> difficult to know,&rdquo; she faltered.

-Then Mrs. de Tracy gave her the lead.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Maria Spalding is right when she says

-that my husband&rsquo;s niece contemplates a duty

-in visiting Stoke Revel,&rdquo; she announced.

-&ldquo;The young woman is the lawful daughter

-of Cynthia de Tracy that was: our solicitors

-could never discover anything dubious in

-the marriage, though we long suspected it.

-Therefore, though I never could have invited

-her here, I admit that the Admiral&rsquo;s niece

-has a right to come, in a way.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Though her maiden name was Bean!&rdquo;

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_15' name='page_15'></a>15</span>

-ejaculated the companion, almost under her

-breath. &ldquo;There are Pease in the North, as

-everyone knows; perhaps there are Beans

-somewhere.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;There have never been Beans,&rdquo; said Mrs.

-de Tracy solemnly and totally unconscious

-of a pun. &ldquo;Look for yourself!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Miss Smeardon did not need to rise from

-her seat and fetch Burke: it lay always close

-at hand. She merely lifted it on to her knee

-and ran her finger down the names beginning

-with B-e-a.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Beaton, Beare, Beatty, Beale&ndash;&ndash;&rdquo; she

-read out, and she shook her head in dismal

-triumph; &ldquo;but never a Bean! No! we English

-have no such dreadful names, thank

-Heavens!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;This is the beginning of April,&rdquo; pursued

-Mrs. de Tracy, referring to a date-card.

-&ldquo;Maria Spalding&rsquo;s course at Nauheim will

-take three weeks. We must allow her a week

-for going and coming. During that time

-Mrs. David Loring can be my guest.&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_16' name='page_16'></a>16</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;A whole month!&rdquo; cried the companion,

-as though in ecstasy at her employer&rsquo;s generosity.

-&ldquo;A whole month at Stoke Revel!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Mrs. de Tracy took no notice. &ldquo;Write

-in my name to Maria Spalding, please,&rdquo; she

-commanded. &ldquo;Be sure that there is no mistake

-about dates. Mention the departure and

-arrival of trains, and say that Mrs. David

-Loring will find a fly at the station. That is

-all, I think.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>The companion bent officiously forward.

-&ldquo;You remember, of course, that young Mr.

-Lavendar comes down next week upon business?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Well, what if he does?&rdquo; asked Mrs.

-de Tracy shortly.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Mrs. David Loring is a widow,&rdquo; murmured

-the companion darkly; &ldquo;a young

-American widow; and they are said to be

-so dangerous!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Mrs. de Tracy drew herself up. &ldquo;Do you

-insinuate that the Admiral&rsquo;s niece will lay

-herself out to attract Mr. Lavendar, a

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_17' name='page_17'></a>17</span>

-widow in the house of a widow! You go

-rather too far, Miss Smeardon, though you

-are speaking of an American. Besides, allusions

-of this character are extremely distasteful

-to me. I have been told that the

-minds of unmarried women are always running

-upon love affairs, but I should hardly

-have thought it of you.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m sure I never imagined any about

-myself!&rdquo; murmured Miss Smeardon with the

-pitiable writhe of the trodden-on worm.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I should suppose not,&rdquo; rejoined Mrs.

-de Tracy gravely, and the companion took

-up her pen obediently to write to Maria

-Spalding.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Shall I send your love to the Admiral&rsquo;s

-niece?&rdquo; she humbly enquired, &ldquo;or&ndash;&ndash;or

-something of the kind?&rdquo; There was irony

-in the last phrase, but it was quite unconscious.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Not my love,&rdquo; replied Mrs. de Tracy,

-&ldquo;some suitable message. Make no mistake

-about the dates, remember.&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_18' name='page_18'></a>18</span></div>

-<p>Thus a letter containing dates, and though

-not love, the substitute described by Miss

-Smeardon as &ldquo;something of the kind&rdquo; for

-an unwanted niece from an unknown aunt,

-left Stoke Revel by the afternoon post and

-reached Robinette Loring at breakfast next

-morning.</p>

-<hr class='toprule' />

-<div class='chsp'>

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_19' name='page_19'></a>19</span>

-<a name='III_YOUNG_MRS_LORING' id='III_YOUNG_MRS_LORING'></a>

-<h2>III</h2>

-<h3>YOUNG MRS. LORING</h3>

-</div>

-<p>Young Mrs. Loring thought she had

-never taken so long a drive as that from the

-Weston railway station to Stoke Revel. The

-way stretched through narrow winding roads,

-always up hill, always between high Devonshire

-hedges. The rain-soaked lanes were

-slippery and she was unpleasantly conscious

-of the size and weight of the American wardrobe

-trunk that reared its mighty frame in

-front of her almost to the blotting-out of the

-driver, who steadied it with one hand as he

-plied the whip with the other. It struck her

-humorously that the trunk was larger than

-most of the cottages they were passing.</p>

-<p>It was a late spring that year in England,&ndash;&ndash;Robinette

-was a new-comer and did not

-know that England runs to late and wet

-springs, believing that they make more

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_20' name='page_20'></a>20</span>

-conversation than early, fine ones,&ndash;&ndash;and the

-trees were just bursting into leaf. The sun

-had not shone for three days and the landscape,

-for all its beautiful greenness, looked

-gloomy to an eye accustomed to a good deal

-of crude sunshine.</p>

-<p>As the horse mounted higher and higher

-Robinette glanced out of the windows at the

-dripping boughs and her face lost something

-of its sparkle of anticipation. She had little

-to expect in the way of a warm welcome, she

-knew that; or at least her mind knew it, but

-Robinette&rsquo;s heart always expected surprises,

-although she had lived two and twenty summers

-and was a widow at that.</p>

-<p>Her mother had been a de Tracy of Stoke

-Revel whose connection with that ancient

-family had ceased abruptly when she met an

-American architect while traveling on the

-Continent, married him out of hand and

-went to his native New England with him.

-The de Tracys had no opinion of America,

-its government, its institutions, its customs,

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_21' name='page_21'></a>21</span>

-or its people, and when they learned that

-Cynthia de Tracy had not only allied herself

-with this undesirable nation, but had selected

-a native by the name of Harold Bean, they

-regarded the incident of the marriage as

-closed.</p>

-<p>The union had been a happy one, though

-the de Tracys of Stoke Revel had always regarded

-the unfortunately named architect

-more as a vegetable than a human being;

-and the daughter of the marriage was the

-young Mrs. Loring now driving in the station

-fly to the home of her mother&rsquo;s people.</p>

-<p>Her father had died when she was fifteen

-and her mother followed three years after,

-leaving her with a respectable fortune but no

-relations; the entire family (happily, Mrs.

-de Tracy would have said) having died out

-with Harold. Robinette was unspeakably

-lonely, even with her hundred friends, for

-there was enough English blood in her to

-make her cry out inwardly for kith and kin,

-for family ties, for all the dear familiar backgrounds

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_22' name='page_22'></a>22</span>

-of hearth and home. Had a welcoming

-hand been stretched across the sea she

-would have flown at once to make acquaintance

-with the de Tracys, cold and indifferent

-as they had always been, but no bidding ever

-came, and the picture of the Manor House

-of Stoke Revel on her dressing-table was the

-only reminder of her connection with that

-ancient and honourable house.</p>

-<p>It is not difficult to see, under the circumstances,

-how the nineteen-year-old Robinette

-became the wife of the first man in whom

-she inspired a serious passion.</p>

-<p>It is incredible that women should confuse

-the passive process of being loved with the

-active process of loving, but it occurs nevertheless,

-and Robinette drifted into marriage

-with the vaguest possible notions of what it

-meant; feeling and knowing that she needed

-something, and supposing it must be a husband.

-It was better fortune, perhaps, than

-she merited, and equally kind for both parties,

-that her husband died before either of

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_23' name='page_23'></a>23</span>

-them realized the tragic mistake. David Loring

-was too absorbed in his own emotions to

-note the absence of full response on the part

-of his wife; Robinette was too much a child

-and too inexperienced to be conscious of her

-own lack of feeling.</p>

-<p>It was death, not life, that opened her eyes.

-When David Loring lay in his coffin, Robinette&rsquo;s

-heart was suddenly seized with growing

-pains. Her vision widened; words and

-promises took on a new and larger meaning,

-and she became a serious woman for her

-years, although there was an ineradicable

-gaiety of spirit in her that needed only sunshine

-to make it the dominant note of her

-nature.</p>

-<p>At the moment, Robinette, in the station

-fly on her way to Stoke Revel, was only in

-the making, although she herself considered

-her life as practically finished. The past and

-the present were moulding her into something

-that only the future could determine.

-Sometimes April, sometimes July, sometimes

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_24' name='page_24'></a>24</span>

-witch, sometimes woman; impetuous, intrepid,

-romantic, tempestuous, illogical,&ndash;&ndash;these

-were but the elements of which the

-coming years of experience had yet to shape

-a character. Young Mrs. Loring had plenty

-of briars, but she had good roots and in favorable

-soil would be certain to bear roses.</p>

-<p>But in the immediate present, the fly with

-the immense American wardrobe trunk beside

-the driver, turned into the avenue of

-Stoke Revel, and Mrs. David Loring bestowed

-upon herself those little feminine attentions

-which precede arrival&ndash;&ndash;pattings of the hair

-behind the ears, twitches of the veil, and pullings

-down about the waist and sleeves. A

-little toy of a purse made of golden chainwork,

-hanging from her wrist, was searched

-for the driver&rsquo;s fare, and it had hardly snapped

-to again when the fly drew up before the

-entrance to the house. How interesting it

-looked! Robinette put her head out of the

-carriage window and gazed up at the long

-row of windows, the old weather-coloured

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_25' name='page_25'></a>25</span>

-stones, and the carved front of the building.

-Here was a house where things might happen,

-she thought, and her young heart gave

-a sudden bound of anticipation.</p>

-<p>But the door was shut, alas! and a blank

-feeling came over Robinette as she looked

-at it. Some one perhaps would come out and

-welcome her, she thought for a brief moment,

-but only the butler appeared, who,

-with the formal announcement of her name,

-ushered her into a long, low room with a

-row of windows on one side and a pleasant

-old-fashioned look of comfort and habitation.

-She caught a glimpse of a tea-table with a

-steaming urn upon it, heard the furious barking

-of a little dog, saw that there were two

-figures in the room and moved instinctively

-towards the one beside the window, the

-figure in weeds, neither very tall nor very

-imposing, yet somehow formidable.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;How do you do?&rdquo; said an icy voice,

-and a chill hand held hers for a moment, but

-did not press it. The colour in Robinette&rsquo;s

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_26' name='page_26'></a>26</span>

-cheeks paled and then rushed back, as she

-drew herself up unconsciously.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I am very well, thank you, Aunt de

-Tracy,&rdquo; she answered with commendable

-composure.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;This is my friend and companion, Miss

-Smeardon,&rdquo; continued Mrs. de Tracy, advancing

-to the tea-table where that useful

-personage officiated. &ldquo;Mrs. David Loring&ndash;&ndash;Miss

-Smeardon.&rdquo; Miss Smeardon had the

-dog upon her lap, yapping, clashing his

-teeth together, and obviously thirsting for

-the visitor&rsquo;s blood. He was quieted with

-soothing words, and Robinette seated herself

-innocently in the nearest chair, beside the

-table.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Excuse me!&rdquo; the companion said with a

-slight cough; &ldquo;Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s chair! Do

-you mind taking another?&rdquo; There was

-something disagreeable in her voice, and

-in Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s deliberate scrutiny something

-so nearly insulting that a childish

-impulse to cry then and there suddenly

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_27' name='page_27'></a>27</span>

-seized upon Robinette. This was her mother&rsquo;s

-home&ndash;&ndash;and no kiss had welcomed her to it,

-no kind word! There were perfunctory questions

-about her journey, references to the

-coldness and lateness of the spring, enquiries

-after the health of Maria Spalding (whose

-mother was a Gallup), but no claiming of

-kinship, no naming of her mother&rsquo;s name nor

-of her native country! Robinette&rsquo;s ardent

-spirit had felt sorrow, but it had never met

-rebuff nor known injustice, and the sudden

-stir of revolt at her heart was painful with

-an almost physical pain.</p>

-<p>After a long drawn hour of this social

-torture, Mrs. de Tracy rang, and a hard-featured

-elderly maid appeared.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Show Mrs. Loring to her room, Benson,&rdquo;

-said the mistress of the house, &ldquo;and help

-her to unpack.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Robinette followed her conductor upstairs

-with a sinking heart. Oh! but the chill of

-this English spring was in her bones, and the

-coldness of a reception so frigid that her

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_28' name='page_28'></a>28</span>

-passionate young spirit almost rebelled on

-the spot, prompting wild ideas and impulsive

-impossibilities; even a flight to her mother&rsquo;s

-old nurse&ndash;&ndash;to Lizzie Prettyman, so often

-lovingly described, with her little thatched

-cottage beyond the river! Surely she would

-find the welcome there that was lacking here,

-and the touch of human kindness that one

-craved in a foreign land. But no! Robinette

-called to her aid her strong American

-common sense and the &ldquo;grit&rdquo; that her

-countrymen admire. Was she to confess herself

-routed in the very first onset&ndash;&ndash;the

-very first attempt in storming the ancestral

-stronghold? With a characteristically

-quick return of hope, the Admiral&rsquo;s niece

-exclaimed, &ldquo;Certainly not!&rdquo;</p>

-<hr class='toprule' />

-<div class='chsp'>

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_29' name='page_29'></a>29</span>

-<a name='IV_A_CHILLY_RECEPTION' id='IV_A_CHILLY_RECEPTION'></a>

-<h2>IV</h2>

-<h3>A CHILLY RECEPTION</h3>

-</div>

-<p>Mrs. Benson approached the wardrobe

-trunk with the air of a person who has taken

-an immediate and violent dislike to an object.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;We have all looked at your box, ma&rsquo;am,

-but I am sorry to say we are not sure that it

-is set up properly. It is very different from

-any we have ever seen at the Manor, and the

-men had some difficulty in getting it up to

-the room. I fancy it is upside down, is it

-not? No? We rather thought it was. I

-would call the boot-and-knife boy to unlock

-it, but he jammed his hand in attempting to

-force the catches, and I thought you would

-be kind enough to instruct me how to open

-it, perhaps?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I am quite able to do it myself,&rdquo; said

-Robinette, keeping down a hysterical laugh.

-&ldquo;See how easily it goes when you know the

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_30' name='page_30'></a>30</span>

-secret!&rdquo; and she deftly turned her key in

-two locks one after the other, let down the

-mysterious fa&ccedil;ade of the affair, and pulled

-out an extraordinary rack on which hung so

-many dresses and wraps that Mrs. Benson

-lost her breath in surprise.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Would you like me to carry some of

-your things into another room, ma&rsquo;am?&rdquo; she

-asked. &ldquo;They will never go in the wardrobe;

-it is only a plain English wardrobe, ma&rsquo;am.

-We have never had any American guests.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;The things needn&rsquo;t be moved,&rdquo; said Robinette,

-&ldquo;many of them will be quite convenient

-where they are;&ndash;&ndash;and now you need

-not trouble about me; I am well used to

-helping myself, if you will be kind enough to

-come in just before dinner for a moment.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Mrs. Benson disappeared below stairs,

-where she regaled the injured boot-and-knife

-boy and the female servants with the first

-instalment of what was destined to be the

-most dramatic and sensational serial story

-ever told at the Manor House.</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_31' name='page_31'></a>31</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;The lid of the box don&rsquo;t lift up,&rdquo; she

-explained, &ldquo;like all the box lids as ever I

-saw, and me with Lady Chitterton for six

-years, traveling constantly. The front of the

-thing splits in the middle and the bottom

-half falls on the floor. A heathenish kind of

-tray lifts off from its hinges like a door, and

-a clothes rack pulls out on runners. &rsquo;T is a

-sight to curdle your blood; and the number

-of dresses she&rsquo;s brought would make her out

-to be richer than Crusoe!&ndash;&ndash;though I have

-heard from a cousin of mine who was in

-service in America that the ladies over there

-spend every penny they can rake and scrape

-on their clothes. Their husbands may work

-their fingers to the bone, and their parents

-be in the workhouse, but fine frocks they

-will have!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Rather!&rdquo; said the boot-and-knife boy,

-nursing his injured thumb.</p>

-<p>On the departure of Mrs. Benson from

-her room, Robinette gave a stifled shriek in

-which laughter and tears were equally mingled.

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_32' name='page_32'></a>32</span>

-Then she flew like a lapwing to the

-fire-place and lifted off a fan of white paper

-from the grate.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;No possibility of help there!&rdquo; she exclaimed.

-&ldquo;Cold within, cold without! How

-shall I unpack? How shall I dress? How

-shall I live without a fire? Ah! here is the

-coal box! Empty! Empty, and it is only the

-month of April! &lsquo;Oh! to be in England

-now that April&rsquo;s there!&rsquo; How could Browning

-write that line without his teeth chattering!

-How well I understand the desire of

-the British to keep India and South Africa!

-They must have some place to go where they

-can get warm! Now for unpacking, or any

-sort of manual labour which will put my

-frozen blood in circulation!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Slapping her hands, beating her breast,

-stamping her feet, Mrs. Loring removed a

-few dresses from the offending trunk to the

-mahogany wardrobe, and disposed her effects

-neatly in the drawers of bureau and highboy.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I have made a mistake at the very beginning,&rdquo;

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_33' name='page_33'></a>33</span>

-she thought. &ldquo;I supposed nothing

-could be too pretty for the Manor House and

-now I am afraid my worst is too fine. The

-Manor House of Stoke Revel! Wouldn&rsquo;t

-that appeal to anyone&rsquo;s imagination? Now

-what for to-night? White satin with crystal?

-Back you go into the trunk! Back goes the

-silver grey chiffon! I&rsquo;ll have it re-hung over

-flannel! Avaunt! heliotrope velvet with

-amethyst spangles, made with a view to

-ensnaring the High Church clergy! I wish I

-had a princess dress of moleskin with a court

-train of squirrel hanging from the shoulders!

-Here is the thing; my black Liberty satin

-two years old. I will cover part of my exposed

-neck and shoulders with a fichu of

-lace; my black silk openwork stockings will

-be drawn on over a pair of balbriggans, and

-the number of petticoats I shall don would

-discourage a Scotch fishwife! To-morrow

-I&rsquo;ll write Mrs. Spalding&rsquo;s maid to buy me

-two hot-water bottles, mittens, a box of

-quinine tablets and a Shetland shawl....

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_34' name='page_34'></a>34</span>

-What are these&ndash;&ndash;<i>fans?</i> Retire into the

-depths of that tray and never look me in

-the face again!... <i>Parasols?</i> I wonder

-at your impertinence in coming here! I

-shall give you cod liver oil and make you

-grow into umbrellas!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Presently the dinner gong growled

-through the house, and Robinette, still shivering,

-flung across her shoulders a shimmering

-scarf of white and silver. It fell over her

-simple black dress in just the right way, adding

-a last touch to the somewhat exotic grace

-which made her a stranger in her mother&rsquo;s

-home. Then she fled down the darkening

-passages, instinctively aware that unpunctuality

-was a crime in this house. Yet in spite

-of her haste, she paused before the window

-of an upper lobby, arrested by the scene it

-framed. Heavy rain still fell, and the light,

-made greenish by the nearness of great trees

-just coming into leaf, was cheerless and

-singularly cold. But that could not mar the

-majesty of the outlook which made the

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_35' name='page_35'></a>35</span>

-Manor of Stoke Revel, on its height, unique.

-Far below the house, the broad river slipped

-towards the sea, between woods that rose

-tier upon tier above and beyond&ndash;&ndash;woods of

-beech and of oak, not yet green, but purplish

-under the rainy mist. On the bank, woods

-too, and here, where the river, in excess of

-strength, swirled into a creek&ndash;&ndash;a shining

-sand-bank where fishing nets were hung.

-Then the low, strong tower of a church, with

-the sombreness of cypress beside it, and the

-thatched roofs of cottages.</p>

-<p>Something stirred in the heart of Robinette

-as she looked, that part of her blood

-which her English mother had given her.

-This scene, so indescribably English as

-hardly to be imaginable in another land, had

-been painted for her again and again by her

-mother with all the retrospective romance of

-an exile&rsquo;s touch. She knew it, but she did

-not know if she could ever love it, beautiful

-though it was and noble.</p>

-<p>But she banished these misgivings and ran

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_36' name='page_36'></a>36</span>

-down the twisted stairway so fast that she

-was almost panting when she reached the

-drawing-room door.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I will take your arm, please,&rdquo; said the

-hostess coldly, while Miss Smeardon wore the

-virtuous and injured air of one who has been

-kept waiting. Mrs. de Tracy laid, on the

-warm and smooth arm of her guest, one of

-her small, dry hands, sparkling with rings,

-and the procession closed with the companion

-and the lap-dog.</p>

-<p>In the dining room, the shutters were

-closed, and the candles, in branching candlesticks

-of silver, only partially lit a room long

-and low like the other. The walls were darkened

-with pictures, and Robinette&rsquo;s bright

-eyes searched them eagerly.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;The Sir Joshua is not here!&rdquo; she

-thought. &ldquo;And it was not in the drawing

-room. Has Aunt de Tracy given, or hidden

-it away&ndash;&ndash;my very own name-picture?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>With all her determination, Robinette

-somehow could not summon courage enough

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_37' name='page_37'></a>37</span>

-to ask where this picture was. Such a question

-would involve the mention of her mother&rsquo;s

-name, and from that she shrank. Young Mrs.

-Loring had never before found herself in a

-society where conversation was apparently

-regarded as a crime, and to fit herself to her

-environment, under the scrutiny of Mrs. de

-Tracy and the decidedly inimical looks of

-the companion, took all her time. A burden

-of self-consciousness lay upon her such as

-her light and elastic spirit had never known.

-She found herself morbidly observant of

-minute details; the pattern of the tablecloth;

-the crest upon the spoons; the

-curious red knobs upon Miss Smeardon&rsquo;s fingers,

-and the odd mincing way she held her

-fork; the almost athletic efforts of the butler

-when he raised an enormous silver dish-cover,

-and the curiously frugal and unappetizing

-nature of the viand it disclosed. The

-wizened face of the lap-dog, too, peering over

-the table&rsquo;s edge, out of Miss Smeardon&rsquo;s lap,

-might have acquired its distrustful expression,

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_38' name='page_38'></a>38</span>

-Robinette thought, from habitual

-doubts as to whether enough to eat would

-ever be his good fortune. The meal ended

-with the ceremonious presentation to each

-lady in turn, of three wrinkled apples and

-two crooked bananas in a probably priceless

-dish of Crown Derby. Then the procession

-re-formed and returned to the drawing room.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;And the evening and the morning were

-the first day!&rdquo; sighed Robinette to herself

-in the chilly solitude of her own room. How

-often could she endure the repetition?</p>

-<hr class='toprule' />

-<div class='chsp'>

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_39' name='page_39'></a>39</span>

-<a name='V_AT_WITTISHAM' id='V_AT_WITTISHAM'></a>

-<h2>V</h2>

-<h3>AT WITTISHAM</h3>

-</div>

-<p>&ldquo;May I have a fire to dress by, Benson?&rdquo;

-Robinette asked rather timidly that night,

-her head just peeping above the blankets.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;<i>Fire</i>?&rdquo; returned Benson, in italics, with

-an interrogation point.</p>

-<p>Robinette longed to spell the word and

-ask Benson if it had ever come to her notice

-before, but she stifled her desire and

-said, &ldquo;I am quite ashamed, Benson, but you

-see I am not used to the climate yet. If

-you&rsquo;ll pamper me just a little at the beginning,

-I shall behave better presently.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I will give orders for a fire night and

-morning, certainly, ma&rsquo;am,&rdquo; said Benson. &ldquo;I

-did not offer it because our ladies never have

-one in their bedrooms at this time of the

-year. Mrs. de Tracy is very strong and

-active for her age.&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_40' name='page_40'></a>40</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s my opinion she&rsquo;s a w&rsquo;eedler,&rdquo; remarked

-Benson at the housekeeper&rsquo;s luncheon

-table. &ldquo;She asks for what she wants like

-a child. She has a pretty way with her, I

-can&rsquo;t deny that, but is she a w&rsquo;eedler?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Wheedler or not, Robinette got her fire to

-dress by, and so was able to come down in

-the morning feeling tolerably warm. It was

-well that she was, for the cold tea and tough

-toast of the de Tracy breakfast had little

-in them to warm the heart. Conversation

-languished during the meal, and after a

-walk to the stables Robinette was thankful

-to return to her own room again on the pretext

-of writing letters. There she piled up

-the fire, drew her chair close up to the hearth,

-and employed herself until noon, when she

-took her embroidery and joined her aunt in

-the drawing room. Luncheon was announced

-at half past one, and immediately after it

-Mrs. de Tracy and Miss Smeardon went to

-their respective bedrooms for rest.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Are there indeed only twelve hours in

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_41' name='page_41'></a>41</span>

-the day?&rdquo; Robinette asked herself desperately

-as she heard the great, solemn-toned

-hall clock strike two. It seemed quite impossible

-that it could be only two; the

-whole afternoon had still to be accounted

-for, and how? Well, she might look over

-her clothes again, re-arranging them in

-all their dainty variety in the wardrobe

-and drawers; she might put tissue paper

-into the sleeves of each bodice, smoothing

-out every crease; she might even find that

-some tiny repairs were needed! There were

-three new hats, and several pairs of new

-gloves to be tried on; her accounts must be

-made up, her cheque book balanced; yet

-all these things would take but a short time.

-Then the hall clock struck three.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I must go out,&rdquo; she thought.</p>

-<p>Coming through the hall from her room

-Robinette met her aunt and Miss Smeardon

-descending the staircase.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;We are driving this afternoon,&rdquo; said

-Mrs. de Tracy, &ldquo;would you not like to come

-with us?&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_42' name='page_42'></a>42</span></div>

-<p>The thought turned Robinette to stone:

-she had visited the stables, and seen the

-coachman lead what seemed to her a palsied

-horse out into the yard. Her sympathetic allusion

-to the supposed condition of the steed

-had not been well received, for the man had

-given her to understand that this was the

-one horse of the establishment, but Robinette

-had vowed never to sit behind it.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I think I&rsquo;d rather walk, Aunt de Tracy,&rdquo;

-she said, &ldquo;I&rsquo;d like to go and see my mother&rsquo;s

-old nurse, Mrs. Prettyman. Can I do any

-errands for you?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;None, thank you. To go to Wittisham

-you have to cross the ferry, remember.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Oh! that must be simple! you may be

-sure I shall not lose myself!&rdquo; said Robinette.</p>

-<p>Both the older women looked curiously

-at her for a moment; then Mrs. de Tracy

-said:&ndash;&ndash;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;You will kindly not use the public ferry;

-the footman will row you across to Wittisham

-at any hour you may mention to him.&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_43' name='page_43'></a>43</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;Oh, but Aunt de Tracy, I&rsquo;d really prefer

-the public ferry.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Nonsense, impossible; the footman shall

-row you,&rdquo; said Mrs. de Tracy with finality.</p>

-<p>Robinette said nothing; she hated the

-idea of the footman, but it seemed inevitable.

-&ldquo;Am I never to get away from their dullnesses?&rdquo;

-she thought. &ldquo;A public ferry

-sounds quite lively in place of being rowed

-by William!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>When the shore was reached, however,

-Robinette discovered that the passage across

-the river in a leaky little boat, rowed by a

-painfully inexperienced servant, was almost

-too much for her. To see him fumbling

-with the oars, made her tingle to take them

-herself; she could not abide the irritation

-of a return journey with such a boatman.

-This determination was hastened when she

-saw that instead of the three-decker steamer

-of her native land, the ferry at Wittisham

-was just like an ordinary row-boat; that

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_44' name='page_44'></a>44</span>

-one rang a bell hanging from a picturesque

-tower; that a nice young man with a sprig

-of wallflower in his cap rowed one across,

-and that each passenger handed out a penny

-to him on the farther side.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;How enchantingly quaint!&rdquo; she cried.

-&ldquo;William, you can go home; I shall return

-by the public ferry.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>William looked surprised but only replied,

-&ldquo;Very good, ma&rsquo;am.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>On warm summer afternoons the tiny square

-of Mrs. Prettyman&rsquo;s garden made as delightful

-a place to sit in as one could wish. There

-was sunshine on the turf, and a thin shade

-was cast by the drooping boughs of the

-plum tree; just enough to shelter old eyes

-from the glare. When she was very tired

-with doing her work Mrs. Prettyman would

-totter out into the garden. She was getting

-terribly lame now, yet afraid to acknowledge

-it, knowing, with the desperate wisdom of

-poverty, that once to give in, very often

-ended in giving up altogether. So her lameness

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_45' name='page_45'></a>45</span>

-was &lsquo;blamed on the weather,&rsquo; &lsquo;blamed

-on scrubbing the floor,&rsquo; blamed on anything

-rather than the tragic, incurable fact

-of old age. This afternoon her rheumatism

-had been specially bad: she had an inclination

-to cry out when she rose from her

-chair, and every step was an effort. Yet the

-sunshine was tempting; it warmed old and

-aching bones through and through as no fire

-could do; and Mrs. Prettyman thought she

-must make the effort to go out.</p>

-<p>She had just arrived at this conclusion,

-when a tap came to the door.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;That you, Mrs. Darke?&rdquo; she called out

-in her piping old voice. &ldquo;Come in, me dear,

-I&rsquo;m that stiff with me rheumatics to-day I

-can&rsquo;t scarce rise out of me chair.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s not Mrs. Darke,&rdquo; said Robinette,

-stooping to enter through the tiny doorway.

-&ldquo;It&rsquo;s a stranger, Mrs. Prettyman, come all

-the way from America to see you.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Lor&rsquo; now, Miss, whoever may you be?&rdquo;

-the old woman cried, making as if she would

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_46' name='page_46'></a>46</span>

-rise from her chair. But Robinette caught

-her arm and made her sit still.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t get up; please sit right there where

-you are, and I&rsquo;ll take this chair beside you.

-Now, Mrs. Prettyman, look at me hard, and

-tell me if you know who I am.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>The old woman gazed into Robinette&rsquo;s

-face, and then a light seemed to break over her.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s Miss Cynthia&rsquo;s daughter you are!&rdquo;

-she cried. &ldquo;My Miss Cynthia as went and

-married in America!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>She caught Robinette&rsquo;s white ringed hands

-in hers, and Robinette bent down and kissed

-the wrinkled old face.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I know that mother loved you, Nurse,&rdquo;

-she said. &ldquo;She used often, often to tell me

-about you.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>After the fashion of old people, Mrs.

-Prettyman was too much moved to speak.

-Her face worked all over, and then slow tears

-began to run down her furrowed cheeks.

-She got up from her chair and walked across

-the uneven floor, leaning on a stick.</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_47' name='page_47'></a>47</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve something here, Miss, I&rsquo;ve something

-here; something I never parts with,&rdquo;

-she said. A tall chest of drawers stood

-against the wall, and the old woman began

-to search among its contents as she spoke.

-At last she found a little kid shoe, laid away

-in a handkerchief.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;See here, Miss! here&rsquo;s my Miss Cynthia&rsquo;s

-shoe! &rsquo;T was tied on to my wedding

-coach the day I got married and left her.

-My &rsquo;usband &rsquo;e laughed at me cruel because

-I&rsquo;d have that shoe with me; but I&rsquo;ve kept

-it ever since.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Robinette came and stood beside her, and

-they both wept together over the silly little

-shoe.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I want to talk a great deal to you, Nurse;

-I want to tell you all about mother and

-father, and how they died,&rdquo; said Robinette

-through her tears. How strange that she

-should have to come to this cottage and to

-this poor old woman before she found anyone

-to whom she could speak of her beloved dead!

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_48' name='page_48'></a>48</span>

-Her heart was so full that she could scarcely

-speak. A crowd of memories rushed into her

-mind; last scenes and parting words; those

-innumerable unforgettable details that are

-printed once for all upon the heart that loves

-and feels.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;d like to tell you about it out of doors,

-Nurse dear,&rdquo; she said tearfully; &ldquo;can you

-come out under the plum tree in your garden?

-It&rsquo;s lovely there.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Yes, dearie, yes, we&rsquo;ll come out under

-the plum tree, we will,&rdquo; echoed Mrs. Prettyman.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;See, Nursie, take my arm, I&rsquo;ll help you

-out into the warm sunshine,&rdquo; Robinette said.</p>

-<p>They progressed very slowly, the old

-woman leaning with all her weight upon the

-arm of her strong young helper. Then under

-the flickering shade of the tree they sat down

-together for their talk.</p>

-<p>So much to tell, so much to hear, the

-afternoon slipped away unknown to them,

-and still they were sitting there hand in hand

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_49' name='page_49'></a>49</span>

-talking and listening; sometimes crying a

-little, sometimes laughing; a queerly assorted

-couple, these new-made friends.</p>

-<p>But when all the recollections had been

-talked over and wept over, when Mrs. Prettyman

-had told Robinette, with the extraordinary

-detail that old people can put into their

-memories of long ago, all that she remembered

-of Cynthia de Tracy&rsquo;s childhood,

-then Robinette began to question the old

-woman about her own life. Was she comfortable?

-Was she tolerably well off? Or

-had she difficulty in making ends meet?</p>

-<p>To these questions Mrs. Prettyman made

-valiant answers: she had a fine spirit, and no

-wish to let a stranger see the skeleton in the

-cupboard. But Robinette&rsquo;s quick instinct

-pierced through the veil of well-meant bravery

-and touched the truth.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Nurse dear,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;you say you&rsquo;re

-comfortable, and well off, but you won&rsquo;t

-mind my telling you that I just don&rsquo;t quite

-believe you.&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_50' name='page_50'></a>50</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;Oh, my dear heart, what&rsquo;s that you be

-sayin&rsquo;? callin&rsquo; of me a liar?&rdquo; chuckled the

-old woman fondly.</p>

-<p>Robinette rose from her seat on the bench

-and stood back to scrutinize the cottage. It

-was exquisitely picturesque, but this very

-picturesqueness constituted its danger; for

-the place was a perfect death trap. The crumbling

-cob-walls that had taken on those wonderful

-patches of green colour, soaked in the

-damp like a sponge: the irregularity of the

-thatched roof that looked so well, admitted

-trickles of rain on wet nights; and the uneven

-mud floor of the kitchen revealed the

-fact that the cottage had been built without

-any proper foundation. The door did not

-fit, and in cold weather a knife-like draught

-must run in under it. All this Robinette&rsquo;s

-quick, practical glance took in; she gave

-a little nod or two, murmuring to herself,

-&ldquo;A new thatch roof, a new door, a new

-cement floor.&rdquo; Then she came and sat down

-again.</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_51' name='page_51'></a>51</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;Tell me now, how much do you have to

-live on every week, Nurse?&rdquo; she asked.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Oh, Miss Robinette&ndash;&ndash;ma&rsquo;am, I should

-say&ndash;&ndash;&rsquo;t is wonderful how I gets on; and

-then there&rsquo;s the plum tree&ndash;&ndash;just see the

-flourish on it, Missie dear! &rsquo;T will have a

-crop o&rsquo; plums come autumn will about drag

-down the boughs! I don&rsquo;t know how

-&rsquo;t would be with me without I had the plum

-tree.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Do you really make something by it?&rdquo;

-Robinette asked.</p>

-<p>The old woman chuckled again. &ldquo;To be

-sure I makes; makes jam every autumn; a

-sight o&rsquo; jam. Come inside again, me dear, an&rsquo;

-see me jam cupboard and you&rsquo;ll know.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>She hobbled into the kitchen, and opened

-the door of a wall press in the corner. There,

-row above row stood a solid phalanx of jam

-pots; it seemed as if a whole town might

-be supplied out of Mrs. Prettyman&rsquo;s cupboard.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;&rsquo;T is well thought of, me jam,&rdquo; the old

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_52' name='page_52'></a>52</span>

-woman said, grinning with pleasure. &ldquo;I be

-very careful in the preparing of &rsquo;en; gets

-a penny the pound more for me jam than

-others, along of its being so fine.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Robinette was charmed to see that here

-Mrs. Prettyman had a reliable source of

-income, however slender.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;How much do you reckon to get from it

-every year?&rdquo; she asked.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Going five pounds, dear: four pounds

-fifteen shillings and sixpence, last autumn;

-and please the Lord there&rsquo;s a better crop

-this season, so &rsquo;t will be the clear five pounds.

-Oh! I do be loving me plum tree like a

-friend, I do.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>They turned back into the sunshine again,

-that Robinette should admire this wonderful

-tree-friend once more. She stood under its

-shadow with great delight, as the Bible says,

-gazing up through the intricate network of

-boughs and blossom to the cloudless blue

-above her.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s heavenly, Nurse, just heavenly!&rdquo;

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_53' name='page_53'></a>53</span>

-she sighed as she came and sat down beside

-the old woman again.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Then there&rsquo;s me duck too, Missie!

-Lard, now I don&rsquo;t know how I&rsquo;d be without

-I had me duck. Duckie I calls &rsquo;er and

-Duckie she is; company she is, too, to me

-mornin&rsquo;s, with her &lsquo;Quack, Quack,&rsquo; under

-the winder.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>So the old woman prattled on, giving

-Robinette all the history of her life, with its

-tiny joys and many struggles, till it seemed

-to the listener that she had always known

-Mrs. Prettyman, the plum tree, and her duck&ndash;&ndash;known

-them and loved them, all three.</p>

-<hr class='toprule' />

-<div class='chsp'>

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_54' name='page_54'></a>54</span>

-<a name='VI_MARK_LAVENDAR' id='VI_MARK_LAVENDAR'></a>

-<h2>VI</h2>

-<h3>MARK LAVENDAR</h3>

-</div>

-<p>Hundreds of years ago the street of

-Stoke Revel village, if street it could be

-called, and the tower of the ancient church,

-must have looked very much the same as

-now.</p>

-<p>On such a day, when the oak woods were

-budding, and the English birds singing, and

-the spring sun was hot in a clear sky, a

-knight riding down the steep lane would

-have taken the same turn to the left on his

-way to the Manor. Were he a young man,

-he would probably have reined up his horse

-for a moment, and looked, as Mark Lavendar

-did now, at the blithe landscape before

-him. Only then the accessories would have

-been so different: the great horse, somewhat

-tired by long hours of riding, the armour

-that glinted in the sun, the casque pushed

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_55' name='page_55'></a>55</span>

-up to let the fresh air play upon the rider&rsquo;s

-face; such a figure must have often stood

-just at that turn where the lane wound up

-the little hill. The landscape was the same,

-and young men in all ages are very much the

-same, so&ndash;&ndash;although this one had merely arrived

-by train, and walked from the nearest

-station&ndash;&ndash;Mark Lavendar stopped and leaned

-over the low wall when he came to the turn

-of the road, and looked down at the river.</p>

-<p>He boasted no war horse nor armour;

-none of the trappings of the older world

-added to his distinction, and yet he was a

-very pleasing figure of a man.</p>

-<p>The gaunt brown face was quite hard and

-solemn in expression; ugly, but not commonplace,

-for as a friend once said of him,

-&ldquo;His eyes seem to belong to another

-person.&rdquo; It was not this, but only that the

-eyes, blue as Saint Veronica&rsquo;s flower, showed

-suddenly a different aspect of the man, an

-unexpected tenderness that flatly contradicted

-the hard features of his face. He

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_56' name='page_56'></a>56</span>

-looked very nice when he laughed too, so

-that most people when they had found out

-the trick, tried to make him laugh as often

-as possible.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;What a day! Heavens! what a lovely

-day,&rdquo; he said to himself as he leaned on the

-low wall. &ldquo;I want to be courting Amaryllis

-somewhere in these woods, and instead

-I&rsquo;ve got to go and talk business with

-that old woman;&rdquo; and he looked ruefully towards

-the Manor House; for this was not

-his first visit by any means, and he knew

-only too well the hours of boredom that

-awaited him. Mrs. de Tracy, strange to say,

-had a soft side towards this young man,

-the son of her family solicitor. Mark was

-invariably sent down by his father when

-there was any business to be transacted at

-Stoke Revel. The older man was fond of a

-good dinner, and hated circumlocution about

-affairs, and it was only when a death in the

-family, or some other crucial event, made his

-presence absolutely necessary that he came

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_57' name='page_57'></a>57</span>

-down himself. Mark was sacrificed instead,

-and many a wearisome hour had he spent in

-that house. However on this occasion he had

-been glad enough to get out of London for

-a while; the country was divine, and even

-the de Tracy business did not occupy the

-whole day. There would be hours on the

-river; afternoons spent riding along those

-green lanes through which he had just passed,

-where the banks were starred with little vivid

-flowers. Mark had an almost childish delight

-in such beauty. He had loitered on the way

-along, flung himself down on a bank for

-a few minutes, and burying his face amongst

-the flowers, listened with a smile upon his

-mouth to the birds that chirruped in the

-branches of the oak above him.</p>

-<p>Now he leaned on the low wall, and gazed

-at the shining reaches of the river. &ldquo;What

-a day!&rdquo; he said to himself again. &ldquo;What a

-divine afternoon&rdquo;; then he added quite simply,

-&ldquo;I wish I were in love; everyone under

-eighty ought to be, on such a day!&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_58' name='page_58'></a>58</span></div>

-<p>Even at the age of thirty most men of any

-personal attractions have some romantic

-memories. Lavendar had his share, but somehow

-that morning he was disconcertingly

-candid to himself. It may have been the sudden

-change from London air and London

-noise; something in the clear transparency

-of the April day, in the flute-like melody of

-the birds&rsquo; song, in the dream-like beauty of

-the scene before him, that made all the moth

-and rust that had consumed the remembrances

-of the past more apparent. There was

-little of the treasure of heaven there,&ndash;&ndash;it

-had mostly been nonsense or vanity or worse.

-He wanted, oh, how he wanted, to be able

-just for once to surrender himself to what

-was absolutely ideal; to have a memory when

-he was an old man, of something that had

-no fault in it.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;No, I&rsquo;ve never been really in love,&rdquo; he

-said to himself, &ldquo;I may as well confess it;

-and I daresay I never shall be, but marry on

-an impulse like most men, make the best of

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_59' name='page_59'></a>59</span>

-it afterwards, and have a sort of middle-class

-happiness in the end of the day.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;One, Two, Three,&rdquo; said the church clock

-from the ancient tower, booming out the

-note, and Lavendar started, and rubbed his

-hands across his dazzled eyes. &ldquo;Luncheon is

-a late meal in that awful house, if I remember,&rdquo;

-he said, &ldquo;but it must be over by this

-time. I really must go in. Let me collect my

-thoughts; the business is &lsquo;just things in

-general,&rsquo; but especially the sale of some cottage

-or other and the land it stands on. Yes,

-yes, I remember; the papers are all right.

-Now for the old ladies.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>He made his entrance into the Manor

-drawing room a few minutes later with a

-charming smile.</p>

-<p>Mrs. de Tracy actually walked a few steps

-to meet him, with a greeting less frigid than

-usual.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m glad to see you, Mark,&rdquo; said she.

-&ldquo;Bates said you preferred to walk from the

-station.&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_60' name='page_60'></a>60</span></div>

-<p>Mark turned his kind eyes on Miss Smeardon,

-and held her knuckly hand in his own

-almost tenderly. It was a very bad habit,

-which had led to some mischief in the past,

-that when he was sorry for a thing he wanted

-to be very kind to it; and this made him

-unusually pleasing, and dangerous!</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Business first and pleasure afterwards;

-excellent maxim!&rdquo; he said to himself half an

-hour later, as he removed the dust of travel

-from his person, preparatory to an interview

-with Mrs. de Tracy. &ldquo;Now for it!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>He liked the drawing room at Stoke Revel

-and always wished it had other occupants

-when he entered it. This afternoon it seemed

-particularly agreeable, the open windows letting

-in the slanting sunshine and a strong

-scent of jonquils and sweet briar.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Well, Mrs. de Tracy,&rdquo; said Mark, &ldquo;I

-am my father&rsquo;s spokesman, you know, and

-we have serious business to discuss. But tell

-me first, how&rsquo;s my young friend Carnaby?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Thank you; my grandson has a severe

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_61' name='page_61'></a>61</span>

-attack of quinsy,&rdquo; replied Mrs. de Tracy.

-&ldquo;He is to have sick-leave whenever the

-Endymion returns to Portsmouth.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Oh! Carnaby will make short work of

-an attack of quinsy,&rdquo; said Lavendar, genially.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It would please me better,&rdquo; retorted Mrs.

-de Tracy severely, &ldquo;if my grandson showed

-signs of mental improvement as well as

-bodily health. His letters are ill-spelled, ill-written,

-and ill-expressed. They are the

-letters of a school-boy.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;He is not much more than a school-boy,

-is he?&rdquo; suggested Mark, &ldquo;only fifteen!

-The mental improvement will come; too

-soon, for my taste. I like Carnaby as he is!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>The young man had seated himself beside

-his hostess in an attitude of perfect ease.

-Though bored by his present environment,

-he was entirely at home in it. Just because

-he greatly dared towards her and was never

-afraid, Mrs. de Tracy liked him. With the

-mere flicker of an eyelid, she dismissed the

-attendant Smeardon.</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_62' name='page_62'></a>62</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;There has been an offer for the land at

-Wittisham,&rdquo; Lavendar said, when they were

-alone.</p>

-<p>Mrs. de Tracy winced. &ldquo;That is no matter

-of congratulation with me,&rdquo; she said

-bleakly.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;But it is with us, for it is a most excellent

-one!&rdquo; returned the young man hardily.

-&ldquo;The firm has had the responsibility of advising

-the sale, which we consider absolutely

-unavoidable in the present financial condition

-of Stoke Revel. We have advertised

-for a year, and advertisement is costly. Now

-comes an offer of a somewhat peculiar kind,

-but sound enough.&rdquo; Lavendar here produced

-a bundle of documents tied with the traditional

-red tape. &ldquo;An artist,&rdquo; he continued,

-&ldquo;Waller, R. A.&ndash;&ndash;you know the name?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I do not,&rdquo; interpolated Mrs. de Tracy

-grimly.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Nevertheless, a well known painter,&rdquo;

-persisted Mark, &ldquo;and one, as it happens, of

-the orchard scenery of this part of England.

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_63' name='page_63'></a>63</span>

-He has known Wittisham for a long time,

-and only last year he made a success with the

-painting of a plum tree which grows in

-front of one of the cottages. It was sold

-for a large sum, and, as a matter of sentiment,

-I suppose, Waller wishes to buy the

-cottage and make it into a summer retreat

-or studio for himself.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;He cannot buy it,&rdquo; said Mrs. de Tracy

-with the snort of a war horse.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;He cannot buy it apart from the land,&rdquo;

-insinuated Mark, &ldquo;but he is flush of cash

-and ready to buy the land too&ndash;&ndash;very nearly

-as much as we want to sell, and the bargain

-merely waits your consent. The sum that

-has been agreed upon is of the kind that a

-man in the height of his triumph offers for

-a fancy article. No such sum will ever be

-offered for land at Wittisham again; old orchard

-land, falling into desuetude as it is and

-covered with condemned cottages.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Mrs. de Tracy was sternly silent, and Mark

-awaited her next words with some curiosity.

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_64' name='page_64'></a>64</span>

-He felt like a torturer drawing the tooth

-of a Jew in the good old days. This sale of

-land was a bitter pill to the widow, as it well

-might be, for it was the beginning of the

-end, as the de Tracy solicitors could have told

-you. There had been de Tracys of Stoke Revel

-since Queen Elizabeth&rsquo;s time, but there would

-not be de Tracys of Stoke Revel much longer,&ndash;&ndash;unless

-young Carnaby married an heiress

-when he came of age&ndash;&ndash;and that no de

-Tracy had ever done.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;The land across the river,&rdquo; Mrs. de Tracy

-said at last, &ldquo;was the first land the de Tracys

-held, but much of it went at the Restoration.

-Well, let this go too!&rdquo; she added

-harshly.</p>

-<p>Mark blessed himself that indecision was

-no part of the lady&rsquo;s character and sighed

-with relief. &ldquo;My father would like to know,&rdquo;

-he said, &ldquo;what you propose to do with regard

-to the old woman who is the present tenant

-of the cottage.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Elizabeth Prettyman is not a tenant,&rdquo;

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_65' name='page_65'></a>65</span>

-said Mrs. de Tracy coldly. &ldquo;She is practically

-a pensioner, since she lives rent-free.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;True, I forgot,&rdquo; said Mark soothingly.

-&ldquo;I beg your pardon.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Do not suppose that it is by my wish,&rdquo;

-continued Mrs. de Tracy coldly. &ldquo;I have never

-approved of supporting the peasantry in idleness.

-This woman happened to be for some

-years nurse to Cynthia de Tracy, my husband&rsquo;s

-younger sister, who deeply offended

-her family by marrying an American named

-Bean. I see no claim in that to a pension of

-any kind.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;But your husband saw it, I imagine,&rdquo;

-interpolated Mark quietly, and Mrs. de Tracy

-gave him a fierce look, which he met, however,

-without a sign of flinching.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;My husband had a mistaken idea that

-Prettyman was poor when she became a

-widow,&rdquo; said Mrs. de Tracy. &ldquo;On the contrary

-she had relations quite well able to

-support her, I believe. I never cross the

-river, in these days, and the matter has escaped

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_66' name='page_66'></a>66</span>

-my memory, so that things have been

-left as they were.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;No great loss,&rdquo; said Mark candidly,

-&ldquo;since the cottage in its present state is utterly

-unfit for any tenant. As to Prettyman,

-is it your intention to give her notice to

-quit?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Unquestionably, since the cottage is

-needed,&rdquo; answered Mrs. de Tracy. &ldquo;She has

-occupied it too long as it is.&rdquo; The speaker&rsquo;s

-lips closed like a vice over the words.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;God pity Elizabeth Prettyman!&rdquo; ejaculated

-Lavendar to himself. &ldquo;Might is Right

-still, apparently, at Stoke Revel!&rdquo; Aloud

-he merely said, &ldquo;A weak deference to public

-opinion was never a foible of yours, Mrs. de

-Tracy; but I think I would advise you to

-consider some question of compensation to

-Mrs. Prettyman for the loss of the cottage.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;If you can show me that the woman has

-any legal claim upon the estate, I will consider

-the question, but not otherwise,&rdquo; said

-Mrs. de Tracy with such an air of finality

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_67' name='page_67'></a>67</span>

-that Lavendar was inclined to let the matter

-drop for the moment.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;The firm,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;will communicate

-your wishes to Mrs. Prettyman by letter.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Prettyman cannot read,&rdquo; snapped Mrs.

-de Tracy. &ldquo;She must be told, and the

-sooner the better.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Well, Mrs. de Tracy,&rdquo; said the young

-man with a short laugh, &ldquo;provided it is not

-I who have to tell her, well and good. I

-warn you the task would not be to my taste

-unless compensation were offered her.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s features hardened to a

-degree unusual even to her.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I am apparently less tender-hearted than

-you,&rdquo; she said sardonically. &ldquo;I shall, if I

-think fit, deal with Prettyman in person.&rdquo;

-The subject was dropped, and Lavendar rose

-to leave the room, but Mrs. de Tracy detained

-him.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;The Admiral&rsquo;s niece, Mrs. David Loring,

-is my guest at present,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;It happens

-that she has crossed the river to Wittisham

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_68' name='page_68'></a>68</span>

-and is paying a visit to Prettyman. I should

-be obliged, Mark, if you would row across

-and fetch her back, as by some misunderstanding,

-my servant has not waited for her.

-You are an oarsman, I know.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>The young man consented with alacrity.

-&ldquo;I shall kill two birds with one stone,&rdquo; he

-said cheerfully, &ldquo;I shall visit the famous plum

-tree cottage and see Mrs. Prettyman for myself;

-and I shall have the privilege of executing

-your commission as Mrs. Loring&rsquo;s escort.

-It sounds a very agreeable one!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;You have no time to lose,&rdquo; said Mrs. de

-Tracy with a glance at the clock.</p>

-<hr class='toprule' />

-<div class='chsp'>

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_69' name='page_69'></a>69</span>

-<a name='VII_A_CROSSEXAMINATION' id='VII_A_CROSSEXAMINATION'></a>

-<h2>VII</h2>

-<h3>A CROSS-EXAMINATION</h3>

-</div>

-<p>Lavendar escaped from the house, where,

-even in the smoke-room, it seemed unregenerate

-to light a cigar, and took the path to the

-shore.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I wonder if one woman staying in a house

-full of men would find life as depressing as

-I do cooped up here under precisely opposite

-circumstances,&rdquo; he thought, as he made his

-way through the little churchyard. &ldquo;It cannot

-be the atmosphere of femininity that

-bores me, however, for Mrs. de Tracy has a

-strongly masculine flavour and Miss Smeardon

-is as nearly neuter as a person can

-be.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>He took a couple of oars from the boat-house

-as he passed, and going to the little

-landing stage untied the boat and started for

-the farther shore.</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_70' name='page_70'></a>70</span></div>

-<p>It was good to feel the water parting under

-his vigorous strokes and delightful to exert

-his strength after the hours of stifled irritation

-at the Manor. It was a bright, calm close

-of day, when in the rarefied evening air each

-sound began to acquire the sharpness that

-marks the hour. He could hear the rush of

-the waters behind the boat and the voices

-of the fishers farther up the stream. As he

-drew up to the bank and took in his oars

-the stillness was so great that you could have

-heard a pin fall, when suddenly from a tree

-above him a bird broke into one little finished

-song and then was still, as if it had uttered

-all it wished to say.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;What a heavenly evening!&rdquo; thought

-Lavendar, &ldquo;and what a lovely spot! That must

-be the cottage just above me. Mrs. de Tracy

-said I should know it by the plum tree. Ah,

-there it is!&rdquo; Tying up the boat he sprang

-up the steps and walked along the flagged

-path. The plum tree these last few days had

-begun to look its fairest. The blossoms did

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_71' name='page_71'></a>71</span>

-not yet conceal the leaves, but it was a very

-bower of beauty already. There was a little

-table spread for tea under its branches, and

-an old woman like thousands of old women

-in thousands of cottages all over England,

-was sitting behind it, precisely as if she had

-been a coloured illustration in a summer

-number of an English weekly. She was on

-the typical bench in the typical attitude, but

-instead of the typical old man in a clean smock

-frock who should have occupied the end of

-the bench, there sat beside her a distinctly

-lovely young woman. What struck Lavendar

-was the wealth of colour she brought into the

-picture: goldy brown hair, brown tweed dress,

-with a cape of blue cloth slipping off her

-shoulders, and a brown toque with a pert upstanding

-quill that seemed to express spirit

-and pluck, and a merry heart. His quick

-glance took in the little hands that held the

-withered old ones. Both heads were bowed

-and in the brown tweed lap was a child&rsquo;s shoe,&ndash;&ndash;a

-wee, worn, fat shoe. Beside it lay an absurd

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_72' name='page_72'></a>72</span>

-bit of crumpled, tear-soaked embroidery that

-had been intended to do duty as a handkerchief

-but had evidently proved quite unseaworthy.</p>

-<p>Waddling about on the flags close to the

-little table was a large fat duck wearing a

-look of inexpressible greed. &ldquo;<i>Quack, quack,

-quack</i>!&rdquo; it said, waddling off angrily as

-Lavendar approached.</p>

-<p>At the sound of the duck&rsquo;s raucous voice

-both the women looked up.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Is this Mrs. Prettyman&rsquo;s cottage,

-ma&rsquo;am?&rdquo; Lavendar asked with his charming

-smile.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Yes, sir, &rsquo;t is indeed, and who may you

-be, if I may be so bold as to ask?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m Mr. Lavendar, Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s lawyer,

-Mrs. Prettyman. I&rsquo;m come to do some

-business at Stoke Revel,&rdquo; he added, for the

-old face had clouded over, and Mrs. Prettyman&rsquo;s

-whole expression changed to one of

-timid mistrust. &ldquo;I really was sent by Mrs. de

-Tracy,&rdquo; he went on, turning to Robinette,

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_73' name='page_73'></a>73</span>

-&ldquo;to take you home; Mrs. Loring, isn&rsquo;t

-it?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Yes, I am Mrs. Loring,&rdquo; she said, frankly

-holding out her hand to him. &ldquo;I knew you

-were expected at Stoke Revel, but I sent the

-footman back myself. He spoils the scenery

-and the river altogether.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve got a boat down there; Mrs. de

-Tracy doesn&rsquo;t quite like your taking the

-ferry; may I have the honour of rowing

-you across? My orders were to bring you

-back as soon as possible.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m blest if I hurry,&rdquo; was his unspoken

-comment as Robinette gaily agreed, and, having

-bidden good-bye to the old woman, with a

-quick caress that astonished him a good deal,

-she laid down the little shoe gently upon the

-bench, and turned to accompany him to the

-boat.</p>

-<p>The river was like a looking-glass; the air

-like balm. &ldquo;We&rsquo;ll take some time getting

-across, against the tide,&rdquo; said Lavendar reflectively,

-as he resolved that the little voyage

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_74' name='page_74'></a>74</span>

-should be prolonged to its fullest possible

-extent. He was not going into the Manor

-a moment earlier than he could help, when

-this charming person was sitting opposite to

-him. So this was Mrs. Loring! How different

-from the stout middle-aged lady whom

-Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s words had conjured up when

-he set out to find her!</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Old Mrs. Prettyman was my mother&rsquo;s

-nurse,&rdquo; Robinette remarked as Lavendar

-dipped his oars gently into the stream and began

-to row. &ldquo;I went to see her feeling quite

-grown up, and she seemed to consider me

-still a child; I was feeling about four years

-old at the moment when you appeared and

-woke me to the real world again.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>She had dried her eyes now and had pulled

-her hat down so as to shade her face, but

-Lavendar could see the traces of her weeping,

-and the dear little ineffectual rag of a

-handkerchief was still in one hand.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;What on earth was she crying about?&rdquo;

-he thought, as with lowered eyes he rowed

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_75' name='page_75'></a>75</span>

-very slowly across, only just keeping the boat&rsquo;s

-head against the current, and glancing now

-and then at the young woman.</p>

-<p>Was it possible that this lovely person was

-going to be his fellow-guest in that dull

-house? &ldquo;My word! but she&rsquo;s pretty! and

-what were the tears about ... and the

-little shoe? Did it belong to a child of her

-own? Can she be a widow, I wonder,&rdquo; said

-Lavendar to himself.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I often think,&rdquo; he said suddenly, raising

-his head, &ldquo;that when two people meet for the

-first time as utter strangers to each other,

-they should be encouraged, not forbidden, to

-ask plain questions. It may be my legal training,

-but I&rsquo;d like all conversation to begin in

-that way. As a child I was constantly reproved

-for my curiosity, especially when I once

-asked a touchy old gentleman, &lsquo;Which is

-your glass eye? The one that moves, or the

-one that stands still?&rsquo;&rdquo;</p>

-<p>The tears had dried, the hat was pushed

-back again, the young woman&rsquo;s face broke

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_76' name='page_76'></a>76</span>

-into an April smile that matched the day and

-the weather.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Oh, come, let us do it,&rdquo; she exclaimed.

-&ldquo;I&rsquo;d love to play it like a new game: we

-know nothing at all about each other, any

-more than if we had dropped from the moon

-into the boat together. Oh! do be quick!

-We&rsquo;ve so little time; the river is quite narrow;

-who&rsquo;s to open the ball?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll begin, by right of my profession;

-put the witness in the box, please.&ndash;&ndash;What

-is your name, madam?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Robinette Loring,&rdquo; she said demurely,

-clasping her hands on her knee, an almost

-childlike delight in the new game dimpling

-the corners of her mouth from time to time.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;What is your age, madam?&rdquo; Lavendar

-hesitated just for a moment before putting

-this question.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I refuse to answer; you must guess.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Contempt of Court&ndash;&ndash;&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Well, go on; I&rsquo;m twenty-two and six

-weeks.&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_77' name='page_77'></a>77</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;Thank you, you are remarkably well preserved.

-I can hardly believe&ndash;&ndash;those six-weeks!

-What nationality?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;American, of course, or half and half;

-with an English mother and American ideas.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Thank you. Where is your present place

-of residence?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Stoke Revel Manor House.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;What is the duration of the visit?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Fixed at a month, but may be shortened

-at any time for bad behaviour.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Your purpose in coming to Stoke Revel?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;A Sentimental Journey, in search of

-fond relations.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Have you found these relations?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve found them; but the fondness is still

-to seek.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Have you left your family in America?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I have no one belonging to me in the

-world,&rdquo; she answered simply, and her bright

-face clouded suddenly.</p>

-<p>There was a moment&rsquo;s rather embarrassed

-silence. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s getting to be a sad game&rdquo;;

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_78' name='page_78'></a>78</span>

-she said. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s my turn now. I&rsquo;ll be the

-cross-examiner, but not having had your

-legal training, I&rsquo;ll tell you a few facts about

-this witness to begin with. He&rsquo;s a lawyer; I

-know that already. Your Christian name,

-sir?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Mark.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Mark Lavendar. &lsquo;Mark the perfect

-man.&rsquo; Where have I heard that; in Pope

-or in the Bible? Thank you; very good;

-your age is between thirty and thirty-five,

-with a strong probability that it is thirty-three.

-Am I right?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Approximately, madam.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;You are unmarried, for married men

-don&rsquo;t play games like this; they are too

-sedate.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;You reassure me! Am I expected to acknowledge

-the truth of all your observations?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;You have only to answer my questions,

-sir.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I am unmarried, madam.&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_79' name='page_79'></a>79</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;Your nationality?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;English of course. You don&rsquo;t count a

-French grandmother, I suppose?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Robinette clapped her hands. &ldquo;Of course

-I do; it accounts for this game; it just

-makes all the difference.&ndash;&ndash;Why have you

-come to Stoke Revel; couldn&rsquo;t you help

-it?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>A twinkle passed from the blue eyes to

-the brown ones.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I am here on business connected with

-the estate.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;For how long?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;An hour ago I thought all might be

-completed in a few days, but these affairs are

-sometimes unaccountably prolonged!&rdquo; (Was

-there another twinkle? Robinette could

-hardly say.) They were half-way across the

-river now. She leaned over and looked at herself

-in the water for a moment.</p>

-<p>Lavendar rested on his oars, and began to

-rub the palms of his hands, smiling a little

-to himself as he bent his head.</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_80' name='page_80'></a>80</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;Yours is an odd Christian name,&rdquo; he

-said. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve never heard it before.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Then you haven&rsquo;t visited your National

-Gallery faithfully enough,&rdquo; said Mrs. Loring.

-&ldquo;Robinetta is one of the Sir Joshua pictures

-there, you know, and it was a great favourite

-of my mother&rsquo;s in her girlhood. Indeed she

-saved up her pin-money for nearly two years

-that she might have a good copy of it made

-to hang in her bedroom where she could

-look at it night and morning.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Then you were named after the picture?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I was named from the memory of it,&rdquo;

-said Robinette, trailing her hand through the

-clear water. &ldquo;Mother took nothing to America

-with her but my father&rsquo;s love (there was

-so much of that, it made up for all she left

-behind), so the picture was thousands of

-miles away when I was born. Mother told

-me that when I was first put into her arms

-she thought suddenly, as she saw my dark

-head, &lsquo;Here is my own Robinetta, in place of

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_81' name='page_81'></a>81</span>

-the one I left behind,&rsquo; and fell asleep straight

-away, full of joy and content.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;And they shortened the name to Robinette?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I was christened properly enough,&rdquo; she

-answered. &ldquo;It was the world that clipped

-my name&rsquo;s little wings; the world refuses

-to take me seriously; I can&rsquo;t think why,

-I&rsquo;m sure; I never regarded <i>it</i> as a joke.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;A joke,&rdquo; said Lavendar reflectively;

-&ldquo;it&rsquo;s a sort of grim one at times; and yet

-it&rsquo;s funny too,&rdquo; he said, suddenly raising his

-eyes.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Now that&rsquo;s the odd thing I was thinking

-as I looked at you just now,&rdquo; Robinette said

-frankly. &ldquo;You seem so deadly solemn until

-you look up and laugh&ndash;&ndash;and then you <i>do</i>

-laugh, you know. That&rsquo;s the French grandmother

-again! It was nice in her to marry

-your grandfather! It helped a lot!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>He laughed then certainly, and so did

-she, and then pointed out to him that

-they were being slowly drifted out of their

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_82' name='page_82'></a>82</span>

-course, and that if he meant to get across

-to the landing-stage he must row a little

-harder.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I have met American women casually;&rdquo;

-he said, bending to his oars, &ldquo;but I have

-never known one well.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s rather too bad to disturb the tranquillity

-of your impressions,&rdquo; returned Mrs.

-Loring composedly.</p>

-<p>Lavendar looked up with another twinkle.

-She seemed to provoke twinkles; he did not

-realize he had so many in stock.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;You mean American women are not

-painted in quite the right colours?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I suppose black <i>is</i> a colour?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Oh! I see your point of view!&rdquo; and

-Lavendar twinkled again.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I can tell you in five sentences exactly

-what you have heard about us. Will you say

-whether I am right? If you refuse I&rsquo;ll put

-you in the witness box and then you&rsquo;ll be

-forced to speak!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Very well; proceed.&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_83' name='page_83'></a>83</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;One: We are clever, good conversationalists,

-and as cold as icicles.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Two: We dress beautifully and use extravagant

-means to compass our ends in this

-direction.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Three: We keep our overworked husbands

-under strict discipline.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Yes! I say,&ndash;&ndash;I don&rsquo;t like this game.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Neither do I, but it&rsquo;s very much

-played,&ndash;&ndash;&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Four: We prefer hotels to home life and

-don&rsquo;t bring up our children well.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Five: We interfere with the proper game

-laws by bagging English husbands instead

-of staying on our own preserves. That&rsquo;s about

-all, I think. Were not those rumours tolerably

-familiar to you in the ha&rsquo;penny papers

-and their human counterparts?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Lavendar was so amused by this direct

-storming of his opinion that he could hardly

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_84' name='page_84'></a>84</span>

-keep his laughter within bounds. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve

-heard one other criticism,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that

-you were all pretty and all had small feet and

-hands! I am now able to declare that to be

-a base calumny and to hope that all the

-others will prove just as false!&rdquo; Then Robinette

-laughed too; eyes, lips, cheeks! When

-Lavendar looked at her he wished that his

-father would keep him at Stoke Revel for a

-month.</p>

-<p>The sun was going down now, and the

-rising tide came swelling up from the sea,

-lifting itself and silently swelling the volume

-of the river, in a way that had something

-awful about it. The whole current of the

-great stream was against it, but behind was

-the force of the sea and so it filled and filled

-with hardly a ripple, as the heart is filled

-with a new desire. Up from the mouth of

-the river came a faint breeze bringing the

-taste of the ocean into the deeply wooded

-creeks. It had freshened into a little wind, as

-they drew up at the boat-house, that flapped

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_85' name='page_85'></a>85</span>

-Robinette&rsquo;s blue cape about her, and dyed

-the colour in her cheeks to a livelier tint.

-As they walked up the narrow pathway to the

-house a deep silence fell between them that

-neither attempted to break.</p>

-<p>At the top of the hill, she paused to take

-breath, and look across the river. It was

-half dark already there, on the other side in

-the deep shadow of the hill; and a lamp in

-the window of the cottage shone like a star

-beside the faintly green shape of the budding

-plum tree.</p>

-<p>As Robinette entered the door of the

-Manor House she took out her little gold-meshed

-purse and handed Mark Lavendar a

-penny.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s none too much,&rdquo; she said, meeting

-his astonished gaze with a smile. &ldquo;I should

-have had to pay it on the public ferry, and

-you were ever so much nicer than the footman!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Lavendar put the penny in his waistcoat

-pocket and has never spent it to this day. It

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_86' name='page_86'></a>86</span>

-is impossible to explain these things; one

-can only state them as facts. Another fact,

-too, that he suddenly remembered, when he

-went to his room, was, that the moment her

-personality touched his he was filled with

-curiosity about her. He had met hundreds

-of women and enjoyed their conversation,

-but seldom longed to know on the instant

-everything that had previously happened to

-them.</p>

-<hr class='toprule' />

-<div class='chsp'>

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_87' name='page_87'></a>87</span>

-<a name='VIII_SUNDAY_AT_STOKE_REVEL' id='VIII_SUNDAY_AT_STOKE_REVEL'></a>

-<h2>VIII</h2>

-<h3>SUNDAY AT STOKE REVEL</h3>

-</div>

-<p>On Sundays, the Stoke Revel household

-was expected to appear at church in full

-strength, visitors included.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;We meet in the hall punctually at a

-quarter to eleven,&rdquo; it was Miss Smeardon&rsquo;s

-duty to announce to strangers. &ldquo;Mrs. de

-Tracy always prefers that the Stoke Revel

-guests should walk down together, as it sets

-a good example to the villagers.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;What Nelson said about going to church

-with Lady Hamilton!&rdquo; Lavendar had once

-commented, irrepressibly, but the allusion,

-rather fortunately, was lost upon Miss Smeardon.

-Mark began to picture the familiar

-Sunday scene to himself; Miss Smeardon in

-the hall at a quarter to eleven punctually,

-marshalling the church-goers; and Mrs. Loring,&ndash;&ndash;she

-would be late of course, and

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_88' name='page_88'></a>88</span>

-come fluttering downstairs in some bewitching

-combination of flowery hat and floating

-scarf that no one had ever seen before. What

-a lover&rsquo;s opportunity in this lateness, thought

-the young man to himself; but one could

-enjoy a walk to church in charming company,

-though something less than a lover.</p>

-<p>It was Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s custom, on Sunday

-mornings, to precede her household by half

-an hour in going to the sanctuary. No infirmities

-of old age had invaded her iron

-constitution, and it was nothing to her to

-walk alone to the church of Stoke Revel,

-steep though the hill was which led down

-through the ancient village to the yet more

-ancient edifice at its foot. During this solitary

-interval, Mrs. de Tracy visited her husband&rsquo;s

-tomb, and no one knew, or dared, or

-cared to enquire, what motive encouraged

-this pious action in a character so devoid of

-tenderness and sentiment. Was it affection,

-was it duty, was it a mere form, a tribute to

-the greatness of an owner of Stoke Revel,

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_89' name='page_89'></a>89</span>

-such as a nation pays to a dead king? Who

-could tell?</p>

-<p>The graveyard of Stoke Revel owned a

-yew tree, so very, very old that the count of

-its years was lost and had become a fable or

-a fairy tale. It was twisted, gnarled, and low;

-and its long branches, which would have

-reached the ground, were upheld, like the

-arms of some dying patriarch, by supports,

-themselves old and moss-grown. Under the

-spreading of this ancient tree were graves,

-and from the carved, age-eaten porch of the

-church, a path led among them, under the

-green tunnel, out into the sunny space beyond

-it. The Admiral lay in a vault of which

-the door was at the side of the church, for no

-de Tracy, of course, could occupy a mere

-grave, like one of the common herd; and

-here walked the funereal figure of Mrs. de

-Tracy, fair weather or foul, nearly every

-Sunday in the year.</p>

-<p>In justice to Mrs. de Tracy, it must be

-made plain that with all her faults, small

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_90' name='page_90'></a>90</span>

-spite was not a part of her character. Yet to-day,

-her anger had been stirred by an incident

-so small that its very triviality annoyed

-her pride. It was Mark Lavendar&rsquo;s custom,

-when his visits to Stoke Revel included a

-Sunday, cheerfully to evade church-going.

-His Sundays in the country were few, he

-said, and he preferred to enjoy them in the

-temple of nature, generally taking a long

-walk before lunch. But to-day he had announced

-his intention of coming to service,

-and well Mrs. de Tracy, versed in men and

-in human nature, knew why. Robinette

-would be there, and Lavendar followed, as

-the bee follows a basket of flowers on a

-summer day. As Mrs. de Tracy, like the

-Stoic that she was, accepted all the inevitable

-facts of life,&ndash;&ndash;birth, death, love, hate (she

-had known them all in her day), she accepted

-this one also. But in that atrophy of every

-feeling except bitterness, that atrophy which

-is perhaps the only real solitude, the only real

-old age, her animosity was stirred. It was as

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_91' name='page_91'></a>91</span>

-though a dead branch upon some living tree

-was angry with the spring for breathing on

-it. As she returned, herself unseen in the

-shadow of the yew tree, she saw Lavendar

-and Robinette enter together under the lych-gate,

-the figure of the young woman touched

-with sunlight and colour, her lips moving,

-and Lavendar smiling in answer. In the

-clashing of the bells&ndash;&ndash;bells which shook the

-air, the earth, the ancient stones, the very

-nests upon the trees&ndash;&ndash;their voices were inaudible,

-but in their faces was a young happiness

-and hope to which the solitary woman

-could not blind herself.</p>

-<p>Presently in the lukewarm air within, Robinette

-was finding the church&rsquo;s immemorial

-smell of prayer-books, hassocks, decaying

-wood, damp stones, matting, school-children,

-and altar flowers, a harmonious and suggestive

-one if not pleasant. What an ancient air it

-was, she thought; breathed and re-breathed

-by slow generations of Stoke Revellers during

-their sleepy devotions! The very light that

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_92' name='page_92'></a>92</span>

-entered through the dim stained glass seemed

-old and dusty, it had seen so much during

-so many hundred years, seen so much, and

-found out so many secrets! Soon the clashing

-of the bells ceased and upon the still

-reverberating silence there broke the small,

-snoring noises of a rather ineffectual organ,

-while the amiable curate, Rev. Tobias Finch,

-made his appearance, and the service began.</p>

-<p>Mrs. de Tracy had entered the pew first,

-naturally; Miss Smeardon sat next, then

-Robinetta. Lavendar occupied the pew in

-front, alone, and through her half-closed

-eyelids Robinetta could see the line of his lean

-cheek and bony temple. He had not wished

-to sit there at all and he was so unresigned as

-to be badly in need of the soothing influences

-of Morning Prayer. Robinetta was beginning

-to wonder dreamily what manner of man this

-really was, behind his plain face and non-committal

-manner, when the muffled slam of a

-door behind, startled her, followed as it was

-by a quick step upon the matted aisle. Then

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_93' name='page_93'></a>93</span>

-without further warning, a big, broad-shouldered

-boy, in the uniform of a British midshipman,

-thrust himself into the pew beside

-her, hot and breathless after running hard.

-Mrs. Loring guessed at once that this must

-be Carnaby de Tracy, the young hopeful and

-heir of Stoke Revel of whom Mr. Lavendar

-had so often spoken, but the startling and unconventional

-nature of his appearance was

-not at all what one expected in a member of

-his family. Robinette stole more than one

-look at him as the offertory went round;

-a robust boy with a square chin, a fair face

-burnt red by the sun, a rollicking eye and an

-impudent nose; not handsome certainly, indeed

-quite plain, but he looked honest and

-strong and clean, and Robinette&rsquo;s frolicsome

-youth was drawn to his, all ready for fun.

-Carnaby hitched about a good deal, dropped

-his hymn-book, moved the hassock, took out

-his handkerchief, and on discovering a huge

-hole, turned crimson.</p>

-<p>Service over, the congregation shuffled out

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_94' name='page_94'></a>94</span>

-into the sunshine, and Mrs. de Tracy, after a

-characteristically cool and disapproving recognition

-of her grandson, became occupied

-with villagers. Lavendar made known young

-Carnaby to Mrs. David Loring, but the midshipman&rsquo;s

-light grey eyes had discovered the

-pretty face without any assistance.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;This lady is your American cousin, Carnaby,&rdquo;

-said Mark. &ldquo;Did you know you had

-one?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t think I did,&rdquo; answered the boy,

-&ldquo;but it&rsquo;s never too late to mend!&rdquo; He attempted

-a bow of finished grown-upness,

-failed somewhat, and melted at once into an engaging

-boyishness, under which his frank admiration

-of his new-found relative was not to

-be hidden. &ldquo;I say, are you stopping at Stoke

-Revel?&rdquo; he asked, as though the news were

-too good to be true. &ldquo;Jolly! Hullo&ndash;&ndash;&rdquo; he

-broke off with animation as the cassocked

-figure of the Rev. Tobias Finch fluttered out

-from the porch&ndash;&ndash;&ldquo;here&rsquo;s old Toby! Watch

-Miss Smeardon now! She expects to catch

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_95' name='page_95'></a>95</span>

-him, you know, but he says he&rsquo;s going to be a

-celly&ndash;&ndash;celly-what-d&rsquo;you-call-&rsquo;em?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Celibate?&rdquo; suggested Lavendar, with

-laughing eyes.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;The very word, thank you!&rdquo; said Carnaby.

-&ldquo;Yes: a celibate. Not so easily nicked,

-good old Toby&ndash;&ndash;you bet!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Do the clergymen over here always dress

-like that?&rdquo; inquired Robinetta, trying to

-suppress a tendency to laugh at his slang.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Cassock?&rdquo; said Carnaby. &ldquo;Toby wouldn&rsquo;t

-be seen without it. High, you know!

-Bicycles in it. Fact! Goes to bed in it, I

-believe.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Carnaby, Carnaby! Come away!&rdquo; said

-Lavendar. &ldquo;Restrain these flights of imagination!

-Don&rsquo;t you see how they shock Mrs.

-Loring?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Before the Manor was reached, Robinetta

-and Carnaby had sworn eternal friendship

-deeper than any cousinship, they both declared.

-They met upon a sort of platform of

-Stoke Revel, predestined to sympathy upon

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_96' name='page_96'></a>96</span>

-all its salient characteristics; two naughty

-children on a holiday.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Do you get enough to eat here?&rdquo; asked

-Carnaby in a hollow whisper, in the drawing-room

-before lunch.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Of course I have enough, Middy,&rdquo; answered

-Robinetta with unconscious reservation.

-She had rejected &ldquo;Carnaby&rdquo; at once

-as a name quite impossible: he was &ldquo;Middy&rdquo;

-to her almost from the first moment of their

-acquaintance.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Enough?&rdquo; he ejaculated, &ldquo;<i>I</i> don&rsquo;t! I&rsquo;d

-never be fed if it weren&rsquo;t for old Bates and

-Mrs. Smith and Cooky.&rdquo; Bates was the butler,

-Mrs. Smith the housekeeper, and Cooky

-her satellite. &ldquo;Nobody gets enough to eat in

-this house!&rdquo; added Carnaby darkly, &ldquo;except

-the dog.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>At the lunch-table, the antagonism natural

-between a hot-blooded impetuous boy and a

-grandmother such as Mrs. de Tracy became

-rather painfully apparent. He had already

-been hauled over the coals for his arrival on

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_97' name='page_97'></a>97</span>

-Sunday and his indecorous appearance in

-church after service had begun.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It does not appear to me that you are at

-all in need of sick-leave,&rdquo; said Mrs. de Tracy

-suspiciously.</p>

-<p>Carnaby, sensitive for all his robustness,

-flushed hotly, and then became impertinent.

-&ldquo;My pulse is twenty beats too quick still,

-after quinsy. If you don&rsquo;t believe the doctor,

-ma&rsquo;am, it&rsquo;s not my fault.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Carnaby has committed indiscretions in

-the way of growing since I last saw him,&rdquo;

-Lavendar broke in hastily. &ldquo;At sixteen one

-may easily outgrow one&rsquo;s strength!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Indeed!&rdquo; said Mrs. de Tracy, frigidly.

-The situation was saved by the behaviour of

-the lap-dog, which suddenly burst into a

-passion of barking and convulsive struggling

-in Miss Smeardon&rsquo;s arms. His enemy had

-come, and Carnaby had fifty ways of exasperating

-his grandmother&rsquo;s favourite, secrets

-between him and the bewildered dog. Rupert

-was a Prince Charles of pedigree as

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_98' name='page_98'></a>98</span>

-unquestioned as his mistress&rsquo;s and an appearance

-dating back to Vandyke, but Carnaby

-always addressed him as &ldquo;Lord Roberts,&rdquo;

-for reasons of his own. It annoyed his

-grandmother and it infuriated the dog, who

-took it for a deadly insult.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Lord Roberts! Bobs, old man, hi! hi!&rdquo;

-Carnaby had but to say the words to make

-the little dog convulsive. He said them now,

-and the results seemed likely to be fatal to

-a dropsical animal so soon after a full meal.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;You&rsquo;ll kill him!&rdquo; whispered Robinette

-as they left the dining room.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I mean to!&rdquo; was the calm reply. &ldquo;I&rsquo;d

-like to wring old Smeardon&rsquo;s neck too!&rdquo; but

-the broad good humour of the rosy face, the

-twinkling eyes, belied these truculent words.

-In spite of infinite powers of mischief, there

-was not an ounce of vindictiveness in Carnaby

-de Tracy, though there might be other

-qualities difficult to deal with.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;There&rsquo;s a man to be made there&ndash;&ndash;or to

-be marred!&rdquo; said Robinette to herself.</p>

-<hr class='toprule' />

-<div class='chsp'>

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_99' name='page_99'></a>99</span>

-<a name='IX_POINTS_OF_VIEW' id='IX_POINTS_OF_VIEW'></a>

-<h2>IX</h2>

-<h3>POINTS OF VIEW</h3>

-</div>

-<p>Evenings at Stoke Revel were of a dullness

-all too deep to be sounded and too closely

-hedged in by tradition and observance to be

-evaded or shortened by the boldest visitor.

-Lavendar and the boy would have prolonged

-their respite in the smoking room had they

-dared, but in these later days Lavendar found

-he wished to be below on guard. The thought

-of Robinette alone between the two women

-downstairs made him uneasy. It was as though

-some bird of bright plumage had strayed into

-a barnyard to be pecked at by hens. Not but

-what he realised that this particular bird had

-a spirit of her own, and plenty of courage,

-but no man with even a prospective interest

-in a pretty woman, likes to think of the

-object of his admiration as thoroughly well

-able to look after herself. She must needs

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_100' name='page_100'></a>100</span>

-have a protector, and the heaven-sent one is

-himself.</p>

-<p>He had to take up arms in her defense

-on this, the first night of his arrival. Mrs.

-Loring had gone up to her room for some

-photographs of her house in America, and

-as she flitted through the door her scarf

-caught on the knob, and he had been obliged

-to extricate it. He had known her exactly

-four hours, and although he was unconscious

-of it, his heart was being pulled along the

-passage and up the stairway at the tail-end

-of that wisp of chiffon, while he listened to

-her retreating footsteps. Closing the door

-he came back to Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s side.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Her dress is indecorous for a widow,&rdquo;

-said that lady severely.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Oh, I don&rsquo;t see that,&rdquo; replied Lavendar.

-&ldquo;She is in reality only a girl, and her widowhood

-has already lasted two years, you say.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Once a widow always a widow,&rdquo; returned

-Mrs. de Tracy sententiously, with a self-respecting

-glance at her own cap and the half-dozen

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_101' name='page_101'></a>101</span>

-dull jet ornaments she affected. Lavendar

-laughed outright, but she rather liked

-his laughter: it made her think herself witty.

-Once he had told her she was &ldquo;delicious,&rdquo;

-and she had never forgotten it.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s going pretty far, my dear lady,&rdquo;

-he replied. &ldquo;Not all women are so faithful

-to a memory as you. I understand Americans

-don&rsquo;t wear weeds, and to me her blue cape

-is a delightful note in the landscape. Her

-dresses are conventional and proper, and I

-fancy she cannot express herself without a

-bit of colour.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;The object of clothing, Mark, is to cover

-and to protect yourself, not to express yourself,&rdquo;

-said Mrs. de Tracy bitingly.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;The thought of wearing anything bright

-always makes me shrink,&rdquo; remarked Miss

-Smeardon, who had never apparently observed

-the tip of her own nose, &ldquo;but some persons

-are less sensitive on these points than

-others.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Mrs. de Tracy bowed an approving assent

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_102' name='page_102'></a>102</span>

-to this. &ldquo;A widow&rsquo;s only concern should

-be to refrain from attracting notice,&rdquo; she

-said, as though quoting from a private book

-of proverbial philosophy soon to be published.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Then Mrs. Loring might as well have

-burned herself on her husband&rsquo;s funeral pyre,

-Hindoo fashion!&rdquo; argued Lavendar. &ldquo;A

-woman&rsquo;s life hasn&rsquo;t ended at two and

-twenty. It&rsquo;s hardly begun, and I fear the

-lady in question will arouse attention whatever

-she wears.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Would she be called attractive?&rdquo; asked

-Mrs. de Tracy with surprise.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Oh, yes, without a doubt!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;In gentlemen&rsquo;s eyes, I suppose you

-mean?&rdquo; said Miss Smeardon.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Yes, in gentlemen&rsquo;s eyes,&rdquo; answered

-Lavendar, firmly. &ldquo;Those of women are apparently

-furnished with different lenses. But

-here comes the fair object of our discussion,

-so we must decide it later on.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>The question of ancestors, a favourite one

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_103' name='page_103'></a>103</span>

-at Stoke Revel, came up in the course of the

-next evening&rsquo;s conversation, and Lavendar

-found Robinette a trifle flushed but smiling

-under a double fire of questions from Mrs.

-de Tracy and her companion. Mrs. de Tracy

-was in her usual chair, knitting; Miss

-Smeardon sat by the table with a piece

-of fancy-work; Robinette had pulled a

-foot-stool to the hearthrug and sat as near

-the flames as she conveniently could. She

-shielded her face with the last copy of

-<i>Punch</i>, and let her shoulders bask in the

-warmth of the fire, which made flickering

-shadows on her creamy neck. Her white

-skirts swept softly round her feet, and her

-favourite turquoise scarf made a note of colour

-in her lap. She was one of those women

-who, without positive beauty, always make

-pictures of themselves.</p>

-<p>Lavendar analyzed her looks as he joined

-the circle, pretending to read. &ldquo;She isn&rsquo;t

-posing,&rdquo; he thought, &ldquo;but she ought to be

-painted. She ought always to be painted,

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_104' name='page_104'></a>104</span>

-each time one sees her, for everything about

-her suggests a portrait. That blue ribbon

-in her hair is fairly distracting! What the

-dickens is the reason one wants to look at

-her all the time! I&rsquo;ve seen far handsomer

-women!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Do you use Burke and Debrett in your

-country, Mrs. Loring?&rdquo; Miss Smeardon was

-enquiring politely, as she laid down one red

-volume after the other, having ascertained

-the complete family tree of a lady who had

-called that afternoon.</p>

-<p>Robinette smiled. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m afraid we&rsquo;ve nothing

-but telephone or business directories,

-social registers, and &lsquo;Who&rsquo;s Who,&rsquo; in America,&rdquo;

-she said.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;You are not interested in questions of

-genealogy, I suppose?&rdquo; asked Mrs. de Tracy

-pityingly.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I can hardly say that. But I think

-perhaps that we are more occupied with the

-future than with the past.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;That is natural,&rdquo; assented the lady of the

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_105' name='page_105'></a>105</span>

-Manor, &ldquo;since you have so much more of

-it, haven&rsquo;t you? But the mixture of races

-in your country,&rdquo; she continued condescendingly,

-&ldquo;must have made you indifferent to

-purity of strain.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I hope we are not wholly indifferent,&rdquo;

-said Robinette, as though she were stopping

-to consider. &ldquo;I think every serious-minded

-person must be proud to inherit fine qualities

-and to pass them on. Surely it isn&rsquo;t enough

-to give <i>old</i> blood to the next generation&ndash;&ndash;it

-must be <i>good</i> blood. Yes! the right stock

-certainly means something to an American.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;But if you&rsquo;ve nothing that answers to

-Burke and Debrett, I don&rsquo;t see how you can

-find out anybody&rsquo;s pedigree,&rdquo; objected Miss

-Smeardon. Then with an air of innocent

-curiosity and a glance supposed to be arch,

-&ldquo;Are the Red Indians, the Negroes, and the

-Chinese in your so-called directories?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;As many of them as are in business, or

-have won their way to any position among

-men no doubt are there, I suppose,&rdquo; answered

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_106' name='page_106'></a>106</span>

-Robinette straightforwardly. &ldquo;I think we

-just guess at people&rsquo;s ancestry by the way

-they look, act, and speak,&rdquo; she continued

-musingly. &ldquo;You can &lsquo;guess&rsquo; quite well if

-you are clever at it. No Indians or Chinese

-ever dine with me, Miss Smeardon, though

-I&rsquo;d rather like a peaceful Indian at dinner

-for a change; but I expect he&rsquo;d find me very

-dull and uneventful!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Dull!&ndash;&ndash;that&rsquo;s a word I very often hear

-on American lips,&rdquo; broke in Lavendar as he

-looked over the top of Henry Newbolt&rsquo;s

-poems. &ldquo;I believe being dull is thought a

-criminal offence in your country. Now,

-isn&rsquo;t there some danger involved in this

-fear of dullness?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I shouldn&rsquo;t wonder,&rdquo; Robinette answered

-thoughtfully, looking into the fire.

-&ldquo;Yes; I dare say there is, but I&rsquo;m afraid

-there are social and mental dangers involved

-in <i>not</i> being afraid of it, too!&rdquo; Her mischievous

-eyes swept the room, with Mrs. de

-Tracy&rsquo;s solemn figure and Miss Smeardon&rsquo;s

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_107' name='page_107'></a>107</span>

-for its bright ornaments. &ldquo;The moment a

-person or a nation allows itself to be too dull,

-it ceases to be quite alive, doesn&rsquo;t it? But

-as to us Americans, Mr. Lavendar, bear with

-us for a few years, we are so ridiculously

-young! It is our growing time, and what you

-want in a young plant is growth, isn&rsquo;t it?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Y-yes,&rdquo; Lavendar replied: then with a

-twinkle in his blue eyes he added: &ldquo;Only

-somehow we don&rsquo;t like to hear a plant grow!

-It should manage to perform the operation

-quite silently, showing not processes but results.

-That&rsquo;s a counsel of perfection, perhaps,

-but don&rsquo;t slay me for plain-speaking,

-Mrs. Loring!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Robinette laughed. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll never slay you

-for saying anything so wise and true as

-that!&rdquo; she said, and Lavendar, flushing

-under her praise, was charmed with her good

-humour.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;America&rsquo;s a very large country, is it

-not?&rdquo; enquired Miss Smeardon with her

-usual brilliancy. &ldquo;What is its area?&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_108' name='page_108'></a>108</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;Bigger than England, but not as big as

-the British Empire!&rdquo; suggested Carnaby,

-feeling the conversation was drifting into

-his ken.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s just the size of the moon, I&rsquo;ve

-heard!&rdquo; said Robinette teasingly. &ldquo;Does

-that throw any light on the question?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Moonlight!&rdquo; laughed Carnaby, much

-pleased with his own wit. &ldquo;Ha! ha! That&rsquo;s

-the first joke I&rsquo;ve made this holidays. <i>Moonlight!</i>

-Jolly good!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;If you&rsquo;d take a joke a little more in

-your stride, my son,&rdquo; said Lavendar, &ldquo;we

-should be more impressed by your mental

-sparkles.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Straighten the sofa-cushions, Carnaby,&rdquo;

-said his grandmother, &ldquo;and don&rsquo;t lounge.

-I missed the point of your so-called joke

-entirely. As to the size of a country or anything

-else, I have never understood that it

-affected its quality. In fruit or vegetables,

-for instance, it generally means coarseness

-and indifferent flavour.&rdquo; Miss Smeardon

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_109' name='page_109'></a>109</span>

-beamed at this palpable hit, but Mrs. Loring

-deprived the situation of its point by

-backing up Mrs. de Tracy heartily. She had

-no opinion of mere size, either, she declared.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;You don&rsquo;t stand up for your country

-half enough,&rdquo; objected Carnaby to his cousin.

-(&ldquo;Why don&rsquo;t you give the old cat beans?&rdquo;

-was his supplement, <i>sotto voce</i>.)</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Just attack some of my pet theories and

-convictions, Middy dear, if you wish to see

-me in a rage,&rdquo; said Robinette lightly, &ldquo;but

-my motto will never be &lsquo;My country right or

-wrong.&rsquo;&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Nor mine,&rdquo; agreed Lavendar. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m

-heartily with you there.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s a great venture we&rsquo;re trying in

-America. I wish every one would try to look

-at it in that light,&rdquo; said Robinette with a

-slight flush of earnestness.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;What do you mean by a venture?&rdquo;

-asked Mrs. de Tracy.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;The experiment we&rsquo;re making in democracy,&rdquo;

-answered Robinette. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s fallen to

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_110' name='page_110'></a>110</span>

-us to try it, for of course it simply had to be

-tried. It is thrillingly interesting, whatever it

-may turn out, and I wish I might live to see

-the end of it. We are creating a race, Aunt

-de Tracy; think of that!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s as difficult for nations as for individuals

-to hit the happy medium,&rdquo; said Lavendar,

-stirring the fire. &ldquo;Enterprise carried

-too far becomes vulgar hustling, while stability

-and conservatism often pass the coveted

-point of repose and degenerate into

-torpor.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;This part of England seems to me singularly

-free from faults,&rdquo; interposed Mrs. de

-Tracy in didactic tones. &ldquo;We have a wonderful

-climate; more sunshine than in any

-part of the island, I believe. Our local society

-is singularly free from scandal. The

-clergy, if not quite as eloquent or profound

-as in London (and in my opinion it is the

-better for being neither) is strictly conscientious.

-We have no burglars or locusts or

-gnats or even midges, as I&rsquo;m told they unfortunately

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_111' name='page_111'></a>111</span>

-have in Scotland, and our dinner-parties,

-though quiet and dignified, are never

-dull.... What is the matter, Robinetta?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;A sudden catch in my throat,&rdquo; said Robinette,

-struggling with some sort of vocal

-difficulty and avoiding Lavendar&rsquo;s eye.

-&ldquo;Thank you,&rdquo; as he offered her a glass

-of water from the punctual and strictly temperate

-evening tray. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t look at me,&rdquo;

-she added under her voice.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Not for a million of money!&rdquo; he whispered.

-Then he said aloud: &ldquo;If I ever stand

-for Parliament, Mrs. Loring, I should like

-you to help me with my constituency!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>The unruffled temper and sweet reasonableness

-of Robinette&rsquo;s answers to questions

-by no means always devoid of malice, had

-struck the young man very much, as he listened.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;She is good!&rdquo; he thought to himself.

-&ldquo;Good and sweet and generous. Her loveliness

-is not only in her face; it is in her

-heart.&rdquo; And some favorite lines began to

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_112' name='page_112'></a>112</span>

-run in his head that night, with new conviction:&ndash;&ndash;</p>

-<table summary=''><tr><td>

-<p class='cg'>He that loves a rosy cheek,<br />

-<span class='indent2'>&nbsp;</span>Or a coral lip admires,<br />

-Or from star-like eyes doth seek<br />

-<span class='indent2'>&nbsp;</span>Fuel to maintain his fires,&ndash;&ndash;<br />

-As old Time makes these decay,<br />

-<span class='indent2'>&nbsp;</span>So his flames will waste away.<br />

-<br />

-But a smooth and steadfast mind,<br />

-<span class='indent2'>&nbsp;</span>Gentle thoughts and calm desires,<br />

-Hearts with equal love combined&ndash;&ndash;</p>

-</td></tr></table>

-<p>but here Lavendar broke off with a laugh.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s not come to that yet!&rdquo; he thought.

-&ldquo;I wonder if it ever will?&rdquo;</p>

-<hr class='toprule' />

-<div class='chsp'>

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_113' name='page_113'></a>113</span>

-<a name='X_A_NEW_KINSMAN' id='X_A_NEW_KINSMAN'></a>

-<h2>X</h2>

-<h3>A NEW KINSMAN</h3>

-</div>

-<p>Young Mrs. Loring was making her way

-slowly at Stoke Revel Manor, and Mrs. de

-Tracy, though never affectionate, treated her

-with a little less indifference as the days went

-on. &ldquo;The Admiral&rsquo;s niece is a lady,&rdquo; she admitted

-to herself privately; &ldquo;not perhaps the

-highest type of English lady; that, considering

-her mixed ancestry and American education,

-would be too much to expect; but in

-the broad, general meaning of the word, unmistakably

-a lady!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Mrs. Benson, though not melting outwardly

-as yet, held more lenient views still

-with regard to the American guest. Bates,

-the butler, was elderly, and severely Church

-of England; his knowledge of widows was

-confined to the type ably represented by his

-mistress and he regarded young Mrs. Loring

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_114' name='page_114'></a>114</span>

-as inclined to be &ldquo;flighty.&rdquo; The footman,

-who was entirely under the butler&rsquo;s thumb

-in mundane matters, had fallen into the

-habit of sharing his opinions, and while

-agreeing in the general feeling of flightiness,

-declared boldly that the lady in question

-gave a certain &ldquo;style&rdquo; to the dinner-table that

-it had lacked before her advent.</p>

-<p>For a helpless victim, however, a slave

-bound in fetters of steel, one would have to

-know Cummins, the under housemaid, who

-lighted Mrs. Loring&rsquo;s fire night and morning.

-She was young, shy, country bred, and new to

-service. When Mrs. Benson sent her to the

-guest&rsquo;s room at eight o&rsquo;clock on the morning

-after her arrival she stopped outside the door

-in a panic of fear.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Come in!&rdquo; called a cheerful voice.

-&ldquo;Come in!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Cummins entered, bearing her box with

-brush and cloth and kindlings. To her further

-embarrassment Mrs. Loring was sitting

-up in bed with an ermine coat on, over which

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_115' name='page_115'></a>115</span>

-her bright hair fell in picturesque disorder.

-She had brought the coat for theatre and

-opera, but as these attractions were lacking

-at Stoke Revel and as life there was, to her,

-one prolonged Polar expedition, with dashes

-farthest north morning and evening, she had

-diverted it to practical uses.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Make me a quick fire please, a big fire,

-a hot fire,&rdquo; she begged, &ldquo;or I shall be late

-for breakfast; I never can step into that tin

-tub till the ice is melted.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;There&rsquo;s no ice in it, ma&rsquo;am,&rdquo; expostulated

-Cummins gently, with the voice of a

-wood dove.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;You can&rsquo;t see it because you&rsquo;re English,&rdquo;

-said the strange lady, &ldquo;but I can see

-it and feel it. Oh, you make <i>such</i> a good

-fire! What is your name, please?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Cummins, ma&rsquo;am.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;There&rsquo;s another Cummins downstairs,

-but she is tall and large. You shall be &lsquo;Little

-Cummins.&rsquo;&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Now every morning the shy maid palpitated

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_116' name='page_116'></a>116</span>

-outside the bedroom door, having given

-her modest knock; palpitated for fear it

-should be all a dream. But no, it was not!

-there would be a clear-voiced &ldquo;Come in!&rdquo;

-and then, as she entered; &ldquo;Good morning,

-Little Cummins. I&rsquo;ve been longing for you

-since daybreak!&rdquo; A trifle later on it was,

-&ldquo;Good Little Cummins bearing coals of comfort!

-Kind Little Cummins,&rdquo; and other

-strange and wonderful terms of praise, until

-Little Cummins felt herself consumed by a

-passion to which Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s coals became

-as less than naught unless they could

-be heaped on the altar of the beloved.</p>

-<p>So life went on at Stoke Revel, outwardly

-even and often dull, while in reality many

-subtle changes were taking place below the

-surface; changes slight in themselves but

-not without meaning.</p>

-<p>Robinette ran up to her room directly

-after breakfast one morning and pinned on

-her hat as she came downstairs. Mark Lavendar

-had gone to London for a few days,

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_117' name='page_117'></a>117</span>

-but even the dullness of breakfast-table conversation

-had not robbed her of her joy in

-the early sunshine, made more cheery by the

-prospect of a walk with Carnaby, with whom

-she was now fast friends.</p>

-<p>Carnaby looked at her beamingly as they

-stood together on the steps. &ldquo;You&rsquo;re the

-best turned-out woman of my acquaintance,&rdquo;

-he said approvingly, with a laughable struggle

-for the tone of a middle-aged man of the

-world.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;How many ladies of fashion do you

-know, my child?&rdquo; enquired Robinetta, pulling

-on her gloves.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I see a lot of &rsquo;em off and on,&rdquo; Carnaby

-answered somewhat huffily, &ldquo;and they don&rsquo;t

-call me a child either!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t they? Then that&rsquo;s because they&rsquo;re

-timid and don&rsquo;t dare address a future Admiral

-as Infant-in-Arms! Come on, Middy

-dear, let&rsquo;s walk.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Robinette wore a white serge dress and

-jacket, and her hat was a rough straw turned

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_118' name='page_118'></a>118</span>

-up saucily in two places with black owls&rsquo;

-heads. Mrs. Benson and Little Cummins had

-looked at it curiously while Robinette was at

-breakfast.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;&rsquo;Tis black underneath and white on top,

-Mrs. Benson. &rsquo;Ow can that be? It looks as

-if one &rsquo;at &rsquo;ad been clapped on another!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s what it is, Cummins. It&rsquo;s a

-double hat; but they&rsquo;ll do anything in America.

-It&rsquo;s a double hat with two black owls&rsquo;

-heads, and I&rsquo;ll wager they charged double

-price for it!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;She&rsquo;s a lovely beauty in anythink and

-everythink she wears,&rdquo; said Little Cummins

-loyally.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;May I call you &lsquo;Cousin Robin&rsquo;?&rdquo; Carnaby

-asked as they walked along. &ldquo;Robinette

-is such a long name.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Cousin Robin is very nice, I think,&rdquo; she

-answered. &ldquo;As a matter of fact I ought to

-be your Aunt Robin; it would be much more

-appropriate.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Aunt be blowed!&rdquo; ejaculated Carnaby.</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_119' name='page_119'></a>119</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;You&rsquo;re very fond of making yourself out

-old, but it&rsquo;s no go! When I first heard you

-were a widow I thought you would be grandmother&rsquo;s

-age,&ndash;&ndash;I say&ndash;&ndash;do you think you

-will marry another time, Cousin Robin?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s a very leading question for a

-gentleman to put to a lady! Were you intending

-to ask me to wait for you, Middy dear?&rdquo;

-asked Robinette, putting her arm in the boy&rsquo;s

-laughingly, quite unconscious of his mood.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;d wait quick enough if you&rsquo;d let me!

-I&rsquo;d wait a lifetime! There never was anybody

-like you in the world!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>The words were said half under the boy&rsquo;s

-breath and the emotion in his tone was a

-complete and disagreeable surprise. Here

-was something that must be nipped in the

-bud, instantly and courageously. Robinette

-dropped Carnaby&rsquo;s arm and said: &ldquo;We&rsquo;ll

-talk that over at once, Middy dear, but first

-you shall race me to the top of the twisting

-path, down past the tulip beds, to the seat

-under the big ash tree.&ndash;&ndash;Come on!&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_120' name='page_120'></a>120</span></div>

-<p>The two reached the tree in a moment,

-Carnaby sufficiently in advance to preserve

-his self-respect and with a colour heightened

-by something other than the exercise of running.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Sit down, first cousin once removed!&rdquo;

-said Robinette. &ldquo;Do you know the story of

-Sydney Smith, who wrote apologizing to somebody

-for not being able to come to dinner?

-&lsquo;The house is full of cousins,&rsquo; he said;

-&lsquo;would they were &ldquo;once removed&rdquo;!&rsquo;&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s no good telling me literary anecdotes!&ndash;&ndash;You&rsquo;re

-not treating me fairly,&rdquo; said

-Carnaby sulkily.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m treating you exactly as you should

-be treated, Infant-in-Arms,&rdquo; Robinette answered

-firmly. &ldquo;Give me your two paws, and

-look me straight in the eye.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Carnaby was no coward. His steel-grey

-eyes blazed as he met his cousin&rsquo;s look.

-&ldquo;Carnaby dear, do you know what you are

-to me? You are my kinsman; my only male

-relation. I&rsquo;m so fond of you already, don&rsquo;t

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_121' name='page_121'></a>121</span>

-spoil it! Think what you can be to me if

-you will. I am all alone in the world and

-when you grow a little older how I should

-like to depend upon you! I need affection;

-so do you, dear boy; can&rsquo;t I see how you are

-just starving for it? There is no reason in

-the world why we shouldn&rsquo;t be fond of each

-other! Oh! how grateful I should be to

-think of a strong young middy growing up

-to advise me and take me about! It was

-that kind of care and thought of me that was

-in your mind just now!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;You&rsquo;ll be marrying somebody one of

-these days,&rdquo; blurted Carnaby, wholly moved,

-but only half convinced. &ldquo;Then you&rsquo;ll forget

-all about your &lsquo;kinsman.&rsquo;&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I have no intention in that direction,&rdquo;

-said Robinette, &ldquo;but if I change my mind

-I&rsquo;ll consult you first; how will that do?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It wouldn&rsquo;t do any good,&rdquo; sighed the

-boy, &ldquo;so I&rsquo;d rather you wouldn&rsquo;t! You&rsquo;d

-have your own way spite of everything a

-fellow could say against it!&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_122' name='page_122'></a>122</span></div>

-<p>There was a moment of embarrassment;

-then the silence was promptly broken by

-Robinette.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Well, Middy dear, are we the best of

-friends?&rdquo; she asked, rising from the bench

-and putting out her hand.</p>

-<p>The lad took it and said all in a glow of

-chivalry, &ldquo;You&rsquo;re the dearest, the best,

-and the prettiest cousin in the world! You

-don&rsquo;t mind my thinking you&rsquo;re the prettiest?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Mind it? I delight in it! I shall come

-to your ship and pour out tea for you in my

-most fetching frock. Your friends will say:

-&lsquo;Who is that particularly agreeable lady, Carnaby?&rsquo;

-And you, with swelling chest, will

-respond, &lsquo;That&rsquo;s my American cousin, Mrs.

-Loring. She&rsquo;s a nice creature; I&rsquo;m glad you

-like her!&rsquo;&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Robinette&rsquo;s imitation of Carnaby&rsquo;s possible

-pomposity was so amusing and so clever that

-it drew a laugh from the boy in spite of himself.</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_123' name='page_123'></a>123</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;Just let anyone try to call you a &lsquo;creature&rsquo;!&rdquo;

-he exclaimed. &ldquo;He&rsquo;d have me to

-reckon with! Oh! I am so tired of being a

-boy! The inside of me is all grown up and

-everybody keeps on looking at the outside

-and thinking I&rsquo;m just the same as I always

-was!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Dear old Middy, you&rsquo;re quite old enough

-to be my protector and that is what you shall

-be! Now shall we go in? I want you to stand

-near by while I ask your grandmother a favor.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;She won&rsquo;t do it if she can help it,&rdquo; was

-Carnaby&rsquo;s succinct reply.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Oh, I am not sure! Where shall we find

-her,&ndash;&ndash;in the library?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Yes; come along! Get up your circulation;

-you&rsquo;ll need it!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Aunt de Tracy, there is something at

-Stoke Revel I am very anxious to have if you

-will give it to me,&rdquo; said Robinette, as she came

-into the library a few minutes later.</p>

-<p>Mrs. de Tracy looked up from her knitting

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_124' name='page_124'></a>124</span>

-solemnly. &ldquo;If it belongs to me, I shall

-no doubt be willing, as I know you would

-not ask for anything out of the common; but

-I own little here; nearly all is Carnaby&rsquo;s.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;This was my mother&rsquo;s,&rdquo; said Robinette.

-&ldquo;It is a picture hanging in the smoking

-room; one that was a great favorite of

-hers, called &lsquo;Robinetta.&rsquo; Her drawing-master

-found an Italian artist in London who went

-to the National Gallery and made a copy of

-the Sir Joshua picture, and I was named

-after it.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I wish your mother could have been a

-little less romantic,&rdquo; sighed Mrs. de Tracy.

-&ldquo;There were such fine old family names she

-might have used: Marcia and Elspeth, and

-Rosamond and Winifred!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I am sorry, Aunt de Tracy. If I had

-been consulted I believe I should have agreed

-with you. Perhaps when my mother was in

-America the family ties were not drawn as

-tightly as in the former years?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;If it was so, it was only natural,&rdquo; said the

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_125' name='page_125'></a>125</span>

-old lady. &ldquo;However, if you ask Carnaby, and

-if the picture has no great value, I am sure

-he will wish you to have it, especially if you

-know it to have been your mother&rsquo;s property.&rdquo;

-Here Carnaby sauntered into the

-room. &ldquo;That&rsquo;s all right, grandmother,&rdquo; he

-said, &ldquo;I heard what you were saying; only

-I wish it was a real Sir Joshua we were giving

-Cousin Robin instead of a copy!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Thank you, Carnaby dear, and thank you,

-too, Aunt de Tracy. You can&rsquo;t think how

-much it is to me to have this; it is a precious

-link between mother&rsquo;s girlhood, and mother,

-and me.&rdquo; So saying, she dropped a timid kiss

-upon Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s iron-grey hair, and

-left the room.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;If she could live in England long enough

-to get over that excessive freedom of manner,

-your cousin would be quite a pleasing person,

-but I am afraid it goes too deep to be cured,&rdquo;

-Mrs. de Tracy remarked as she smoothed the

-hairs that might have been ruffled by Robinette&rsquo;s

-kiss.</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_126' name='page_126'></a>126</span></div>

-<p>Carnaby made no reply. He was looking

-out into the garden and feeling half a boy,

-half a man, but wholly, though not very contentedly,

-a kinsman.</p>

-<hr class='toprule' />

-<div class='chsp'>

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_127' name='page_127'></a>127</span>

-<a name='XI_THE_SANDS_AT_WESTON' id='XI_THE_SANDS_AT_WESTON'></a>

-<h2>XI</h2>

-<h3>THE SANDS AT WESTON</h3>

-</div>

-<p>&ldquo;Thursday morning? Is it possible that

-this is Thursday morning? And I must

-run up to London on Saturday,&rdquo; said Lavendar

-to himself as he finished dressing by

-the open window. He looked up the day

-of the week in his calendar first, in order to

-make quite sure of the fact. Yes, there was

-no doubt at all that it was Thursday. His

-sense of time must have suffered some strange

-confusion; in one way it seemed only an hour

-ago that he had arrived from the clangour

-and darkness of London to the silence of

-the country, the cuckoos calling across the

-river between the wooded hills, and the April

-sunshine on the orchard trees; in another,

-years might have passed since the moment

-when he first saw Robinette Loring sitting

-under Mrs. Prettyman&rsquo;s plum tree.</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_128' name='page_128'></a>128</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;Eight days have we spent together in

-this house, and yet since that time when we

-first crossed in the boat, I&rsquo;ve never been

-more than half an hour alone with her,&rdquo;

-he thought. &ldquo;There are only three other

-people in the house after all, but they seem

-to have the power of multiplying themselves

-like the loaves and fishes (only when they&rsquo;re

-not wanted) so that we&rsquo;re eternally in a

-crowd. That boy particularly! I like Carnaby,

-if he could get it into his thick head

-that his presence isn&rsquo;t always necessary; it

-must bother Mrs. Loring too; he&rsquo;s quite off

-his head about her if she only knew it.

-However, it&rsquo;s my last day very likely, and

-if I have to outwit Machiavelli I&rsquo;ll manage

-it somehow! Surely one lame old woman,

-and a torpid machine for knitting and writing

-notes like Miss Smeardon, can&rsquo;t want to be

-out of doors all day. Hang that boy, though!

-He&rsquo;ll come anywhere.&rdquo; Here he stopped and

-sat down suddenly at the dressing-table,

-covering his face with his hands in comic

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_129' name='page_129'></a>129</span>

-despair. &ldquo;Mrs. Loring can&rsquo;t like it! She must

-be doing it on purpose, avoiding being alone

-with me because she sees I admire her,&rdquo; he

-sighed. &ldquo;After all why should I ever suppose

-that I interest her as much as she does me?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>No one could have told from Lavendar&rsquo;s

-face, when he appeared fresh and smiling at

-the breakfast table half an hour later, that he

-was hatching any deep-laid schemes.</p>

-<p>Robinette entered the dining room five

-minutes late, as usual, pretty as a pink, breathless

-with hurrying. She wore a white dress

-again, with one rose stuck at her waistband,

-&ldquo;A little tribute from the gardener,&rdquo;

-she said, as she noticed Lavendar glance at

-it. She went rapidly around the table shaking

-hands, and gave Carnaby&rsquo;s red cheeks a pinch

-in passing that made Lavendar long to tweak

-the boy&rsquo;s ear.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Good morning, all!&rdquo; she said cheerily,

-&ldquo;and how is my first cousin once removed?

-Is he going to Weston with me this morning

-to buy hairpins?&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_130' name='page_130'></a>130</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;He is!&rdquo; Carnaby answered joyfully, between

-mouthfuls of bacon and eggs. &ldquo;He

-has been out of hairpins for a week.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Does he need tapes and buttons also?&rdquo;

-asked Robinette, taking the piece of muffin

-from his hand and buttering it for herself;

-an act highly disapproved of by Mrs. de Tracy,

-who hurriedly requested Bates to pass the

-bread.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;He needs everything you need,&rdquo; Carnaby

-said with heightened colour.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;My hair is giving me a good deal of trouble,

-lately,&rdquo; remarked Lavendar, passing his

-hand over a thickly thatched head.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I have an excellent American tonic that

-I will give you after breakfast,&rdquo; said Robinette

-roguishly. &ldquo;You need to apply it with a

-brush at ten, eleven, and twelve o&rsquo;clock, sitting

-in the sun continuously between those

-hours so that the scalp may be well invigorated.

-Carnaby, will you buy me butter scotch

-and lemonade and oranges in Weston?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I will, if Grandmother&rsquo;ll increase my allowance,&rdquo;

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_131' name='page_131'></a>131</span>

-said Carnaby malevolently, &ldquo;for I

-need every penny I&rsquo;ve got in hand for the

-hairpins.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I hope you are not hungry, Robinetta,&rdquo;

-said Mrs. de Tracy, &ldquo;that you have to buy

-food in Weston.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;No, indeed,&rdquo; said Robinette, &ldquo;I was only

-longing to test Carnaby&rsquo;s generosity and educate

-him in buying trifles for pretty ladies.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;He can probably be relied on to educate

-himself in that line when the time comes,&rdquo;

-Mrs. de Tracy remarked; &ldquo;and now if you

-have all finished talking about hair, I will

-take up my breakfast again.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Oh, Aunt de Tracy, I am so sorry if it

-wasn&rsquo;t a nice subject, but I never thought.

-Anyway I only talked about hairpins; it was

-Mr. Lavendar who introduced hair into the

-conversation; wasn&rsquo;t it, Middy dear?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Lavendar thought he could have annihilated

-them both for their open comradeship,

-their obvious delight in each other&rsquo;s society.

-Was he to be put on the shelf like a dry old

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_132' name='page_132'></a>132</span>

-bachelor? Not he! He would circumvent them

-in some way or another, although the r&ocirc;le of

-gooseberry was new to him.</p>

-<p>The two young people set off in high

-spirits, and Mrs. de Tracy and Miss Smeardon

-watched them as they walked down the avenue

-on their way to the station, their clasped

-hands swinging in a merry rhythm as they

-hummed a bit of the last popular song.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I hope Robinetta will not Americanize

-Carnaby,&rdquo; said Mrs. de Tracy. &ldquo;He seems so

-foolishly elated, so feverishly gay all at once.

-Her manner is too informal; Carnaby requires

-constant repression.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Perhaps his temperature has not returned

-to normal since his attack of quinsy,&rdquo; Miss

-Smeardon observed, reassuringly.</p>

-<p>Meanwhile Lavendar sat in Admiral de

-Tracy&rsquo;s old smoking room for half an hour

-writing letters. Every time that he glanced

-up from his work, and he did so pretty

-often, his eyes fell on a picture that hung

-upon the opposite wall. It was the copy of

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_133' name='page_133'></a>133</span>

-Sir Joshua&rsquo;s &ldquo;Robinetta&rdquo; made long ago

-and just presented to its namesake.</p>

-<p>In the portrait the girl&rsquo;s hair was a still

-brighter gold; yet certainly there was a

-likeness somewhere about it, he thought;

-partly in the expression, partly in the broad

-low forehead, and the eyes that looked as if

-they were seeing fairies.</p>

-<p>Of course to his mind Mrs. Loring was a

-hundred times more lovely than Sir Joshua&rsquo;s

-famous girl with a robin. He felt very ill-used

-because Robinette and Carnaby had

-deliberately gone for an excursion without

-him and had left him toiling over business papers

-when they had gone off to enjoy themselves.</p>

-<p>How bright it was out there in the sunshine,

-to be sure! And why should it be

-Carnaby, not he, who was by this time walking

-along the sea front of Weston, and watching

-the breeze flutter Robinette&rsquo;s scarf and bring

-a brighter colour to her lips?</p>

-<p>There! the last words were written, and

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_134' name='page_134'></a>134</span>

-taking up his bunch of letters, watch in

-hand, he sought Mrs. de Tracy, and explained

-that he would bicycle to Weston and

-catch the London post himself.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll send William&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;she began; but

-Lavendar hastily assured her that he should

-enjoy the ride, and hurried off in triumph.

-Miss Smeardon smiled an acid smile as she

-watched him go. &ldquo;He has forgotten all

-about poor Miss Meredith, I suppose,&rdquo; she

-murmured. &ldquo;Yet it was not so long ago that

-they were supposed to be all in all to each

-other!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It was a foolish engagement, Miss Smeardon,&rdquo;

-said Mrs. de Tracy in a cold voice. &ldquo;I

-never thought the girl was suited to Mark,

-and I understand that old Mr. Lavendar was

-relieved when the whole thing came to an

-end.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Quite so; certainly; no doubt Miss Meredith

-would never have made him happy,&rdquo;

-said Miss Smeardon at once, &ldquo;though it is

-always more agreeable when the lady discovers

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_135' name='page_135'></a>135</span>

-the fact first. In this case she confessed

-openly that Mr. Lavendar broke her

-heart with his indifference.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;She was an ill-bred young woman,&rdquo; said

-Mrs. de Tracy, as if the subject were now

-closed. &ldquo;However, I hope that the son of my

-family solicitor would think it only proper

-to pay a certain amount of attention to the

-Admiral&rsquo;s niece, were she ever so obnoxious

-to him.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Miss Smeardon made no audible reply,

-but her thoughts were to the effect that

-never was an obnoxious duty performed by

-any man with a better grace.</p>

-<p>The sea front at Weston was the most

-prosaic scene in the world, a long esplanade

-with an asphalt path running its full

-length, and ugly jerrybuilt houses glaring

-out upon it, a gimcrack pier with a gingerbread

-sort of band-stand and glass house

-at the end;&ndash;&ndash;all that could have been done

-to ruin nature had been determinedly done

-there. But you cannot ruin a spring day,

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_136' name='page_136'></a>136</span>

-nor youth, nor the colour of the sea. Along

-the level shore, the placid waves swept and

-broke, and then gathered up their white

-skirts, and retreated to return with the same

-musical laugh. Children and dogs played

-about on the wet sands. The wind blew

-freshly and the sea stretched all one pure

-blue, till it met on the horizon with the bluer

-skies.</p>

-<p>Weston seemed to Lavendar a very fresh

-and delightful spot at that moment, although

-had he been in a different mood its

-sordidness only would have struck him. Yes,

-there they were in the distance; he knew

-Robinette&rsquo;s white dress and the figure of the

-boy beside her. Hang that boy! Were they

-really going to buy hairpins? If so, then a

-hair-dresser&rsquo;s he must find. Lavendar turned

-up the little street that led from the sea-front,

-scanning all the signs&ndash;&ndash;Boots&ndash;&ndash;Dairies&ndash;&ndash;Vegetable

-shops&ndash;&ndash;Heavens! were there nothing

-but vegetable and boot shops in Weston?

-Boots again. At last a Hairdresser;

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_137' name='page_137'></a>137</span>

-Lavendar stood in the doorway until he made

-sure that Robinette and the middy had turned

-in that direction, and then he boldly entered

-the shop.</p>

-<p>To his horror he found himself confronted

-by a smiling young woman, whose own very

-marvellous erection of hair made him think

-she must be used as an advertisement for the

-goods she supplied.</p>

-<p>In another moment Robinette and the boy

-would be upon him, and he must be found

-deep in fictitious business. He cast one agonized

-glance at the mysteries of the toilet

-that surrounded him on every side, then

-clearing his throat, he said modestly but

-firmly, that he wanted to buy a pair of curling

-tongs for a lady.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;These are the thing if you wish a Marcel

-wave,&rdquo; was the reply, &ldquo;but just for an ordinary

-crimp we sell a good many of the plain

-ones.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Yes, thank you. They will do; the lady&ndash;&ndash;my

-sister, also wished&ndash;&ndash;&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_138' name='page_138'></a>138</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;A little &lsquo;addition,&rsquo; was it, sir?&rdquo; she

-moved smilingly to a drawer. &ldquo;A few pin

-curls are very easily adjusted, or would our

-guinea switch&ndash;&ndash;&rdquo;</p>

-<p>At this moment the boy and Robinette

-entered the shop. Lavendar was paying for

-the curling tongs, and not a muscle of his

-face relaxed. &ldquo;Oh, here you are. I have

-just finished my business,&rdquo; he said, turning

-round, &ldquo;I thought we might encounter one

-another somewhere!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Robinette and Carnaby exchanged knowing

-glances of which Lavendar was perfectly

-conscious, but he stood by while Mrs. Loring

-bought her hairpins, and Carnaby endeavoured

-to persuade her to invest in a few &ldquo;pin

-curls.&rdquo; &ldquo;Not an hour before it is absolutely

-necessary, Middy dear,&rdquo; she said; &ldquo;then I

-shall bear it as bravely as I can. Come

-now, carry the hairpins for me, and let

-me take Mr. Lavendar out of this shop, or

-he will be tempted to buy more than he

-needs.&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_139' name='page_139'></a>139</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;Oh, no!&rdquo; Lavendar remarked pointedly.

-&ldquo;I have what I came for!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t forget your parcel,&rdquo; Carnaby exclaimed,

-darting after Lavendar as they

-went into the street. &ldquo;You&rsquo;ve left it on

-the counter.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;How careless!&rdquo; said Mark. &ldquo;It was for

-my sister.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;You never told me you had a sister,&rdquo; said

-Robinette, as they walked together, Lavendar

-wheeling his bicycle and Carnaby sulking

-behind them.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I am blessed with two; one married now;

-the other, my sister Amy, lives at home.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Well, you see, in spite of all our questions

-the first time we met, we really know

-very little about each other,&rdquo; she went on

-lightly. &ldquo;It takes such a long time to get

-thoroughly acquainted in this country. Do

-they ever count you a friend if you do not

-know all their aunts and second cousins?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Lavendar laughed. &ldquo;Willingly would I

-introduce you to my aunts and my uttermost

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_140' name='page_140'></a>140</span>

-cousins, and lay the map of my life before

-you, uneventful as it has been, if that would

-further our acquaintance.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Even as he spoke a hateful memory darted

-into his thoughts, and he reddened to his

-temples, until Mrs. Loring wondered if she

-had said anything to annoy him.</p>

-<p>Some fortunate accident at this point ordered

-that Carnaby should meet a friend,

-another middy about his own age, and they set

-off together in quest of a third boy who was

-supposed to be in the near neighbourhood.</p>

-<p>As soon as the lads were out of sight

-Lavendar found the jests they had been

-bandying together die on his lips. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m going

-down deeper; I shall be out of my depth

-very soon,&rdquo; he thought to himself, as he

-walked in silence by Robinette&rsquo;s side.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Let us come down to the beach again;

-we can&rsquo;t go to the station for half an hour

-yet,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I like to look out to sea, and

-realize that if I sailed long enough I could

-step off that pier, and arrive in America.&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_141' name='page_141'></a>141</span></div>

-<p>They stood by the sea-wall together with

-the fresh wind playing on their faces. &ldquo;Isn&rsquo;t

-it curious,&rdquo; said Robinette, &ldquo;how instinctively

-one always turns to look at the sea;

-inland may be ever so lovely, but if the sea

-is there we generally look in that direction.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Because it is unbounded, like the future,&rdquo;

-said Lavendar. He was looking as he

-spoke at some children playing on the sands

-just beside them. There was a gallant little

-boy among them with a bare curly head, who

-refused help from older sisters and was toiling

-away at his sand castle, his whole soul in his

-work; throwing up spadefuls&ndash;&ndash;tremendous

-ones for four years old&ndash;&ndash;upon its ramparts,

-as if certain they could resist the advancing

-tide.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;What a noble little fellow!&rdquo; exclaimed

-Robinette, catching the direction of Lavendar&rsquo;s

-glance. &ldquo;Isn&rsquo;t he splendid? toiling like

-that; stumping about on those fat brown

-legs!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;How beautiful to have a child like that, of

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_142' name='page_142'></a>142</span>

-one&rsquo;s own!&rdquo; thought Lavendar as he looked.

-On the sands around them, there were numbers

-of such children playing there in the sun.

-It seemed a happy world to him at the moment.</p>

-<p>Suddenly he saw his companion turn

-quickly aside; a nurse in uniform came towards

-them pushing, not a happy crooning

-baby this time, but a little emaciated wisp of

-a child lying back wearily in a wheel chair.

-Something in Robinette&rsquo;s face, or perhaps

-the bit of fluttering lace she wore upon her

-white dress, had attracted its notice, and it

-stretched out two tiny skeleton hands towards

-her as it passed. With a quick gesture,

-brushing tears away that in a moment had

-rushed to her eyes, young Mrs. Loring stepped

-forward, and put her fingers into the wasted

-hands that were held out to her. She hung

-above the child for a moment, a radiant

-figure, her face shining with sympathy and

-a sort of heavenly kindness; her eyes the

-sweeter for their tears.</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_143' name='page_143'></a>143</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;What is it, darling?&rdquo; she asked. &ldquo;Oh,

-it&rsquo;s the bright rose!&rdquo; Then she hurriedly

-unfastened the flower from her waist-belt

-and turned to Lavendar. &ldquo;Will you please

-take your penknife and scrape away all the

-little thorns,&rdquo; she asked.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;The rose looked very charming where it

-was,&rdquo; he remarked, half regretfully, as he did

-what she commanded.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It will look better still, presently,&rdquo; she

-answered.</p>

-<p>The child&rsquo;s hands were outstretched longingly

-to grasp the flower, its eyes, unnaturally

-deep and wise with pain, were fixed upon

-Robinette&rsquo;s face. She bent over the chair,

-and her voice was like a dove&rsquo;s voice, Lavendar

-thought, as she spoke. Then the little melancholy

-carriage was wheeled away. Motherhood

-always seemed the most sacred, the supreme

-experience to Robinette; a thing high

-and beautiful like the topmost blooms of

-Nurse Prettyman&rsquo;s plum tree. &ldquo;If one had

-to choose between that sturdy boy and this

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_144' name='page_144'></a>144</span>

-wistful wraith, it would be hard,&rdquo; she thought.

-&ldquo;All my pride would run out to the boy, but

-I could die for love and pity if this suffering

-baby were mine!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Lavendar had turned, and leaned on the

-wall with averted face. &ldquo;Sweet woman!&rdquo; he

-was saying to himself. &ldquo;It is more than a

-merry heart that is able to give such sympathy;

-it&rsquo;s a sad old world after all where

-such things can be; but a woman like that

-can bring good out of evil.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Robinette had seated herself on a low wall

-beside him. Her little embroidered futility of

-a handkerchief was in her hand once more.

-&ldquo;A rose and a smile! that&rsquo;s all we could give

-it,&rdquo; she said; &ldquo;and we would either of us share

-some of that burden if we only could.&rdquo; She

-watched the merry, healthy children playing

-beside them, and added, &ldquo;After all let us

-comfort ourselves that brown cheeks and fat

-legs are in the majority. Rightness somehow

-or other must be at the root of things, or we

-shouldn&rsquo;t be a living world at all.&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_145' name='page_145'></a>145</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;Amen,&rdquo; said Lavendar, &ldquo;but the sight of

-suffering innocents like that, sometimes makes

-me wish I were dead.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Dead!&rdquo; she echoed. &ldquo;Why, it makes me

-wish for a hundred lives, a hundred hearts

-and hands to feel with and help with.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Ah, some women are made that way.

-My stepmother, the only mother I&rsquo;ve known,

-was like that,&rdquo; Lavendar went on, dropping

-suddenly again into personal talk, as they

-had done before. He and she, it seemed,

-could not keep barriers between them very

-long; every hour they spent together brought

-them more strangely into knowledge of each

-other&rsquo;s past.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;She was a fine woman,&rdquo; he went on,

-&ldquo;with a certain comfortable breadth about

-her, of mind and body; and those large,

-warm, capable hands that seem so fitted

-to lift burdens.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Lavendar was in an absent-minded mood,

-and never much given to noting details at

-any time. He bent over on the low wall in

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_146' name='page_146'></a>146</span>

-retrospective silence, looking at the blue sea

-before them.</p>

-<p>Robinette, who was perched beside him,

-spread her two small hands on her white serge

-knees and regarded them fixedly for a moment.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I wonder if it&rsquo;s a matter of size,&rdquo; she

-said after a moment. &ldquo;I wonder! Let&rsquo;s be

-confidential. When I was a little girl we

-were not at all well-to-do, and my hands

-were very busy. My father&rsquo;s success came

-to him only two or three years before his

-death, when his reputation began to grow

-and his plans for great public buildings

-began to be accepted, so I was my mother&rsquo;s

-helper. We had but one servant, and I

-learned to make beds, to dust, to wipe

-dishes, to make tea and coffee, and to cook

-simple dishes. If Admiral de Tracy&rsquo;s sister

-had to work, Admiral de Tracy&rsquo;s niece was

-certainly going to help! Later on came my

-father&rsquo;s illness and death. We had plenty of

-servants then, but my hands had learned to

-be busy. I gave him his medicines, I changed

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_147' name='page_147'></a>147</span>

-his pillows, I opened his letters and answered

-such of them as were within my powers, I

-fanned him, I stroked his aching head. The

-end came, and mother and I had hardly begun

-to take hold of life again when her health

-failed. I wasn&rsquo;t enough for her; she needed

-father and her face was bent towards him.

-My hands were busy again for months, and

-they held my mother&rsquo;s when she died. Time

-went on. Then I began again to make a home

-out of a house; to use my strength and time

-as a good wife should, for the comfort of

-her husband; but oh! so faultily, for I was

-all too young and inexperienced. It was only

-for a few months, then death came into my

-life for the third time, and I was less than

-twenty. For the first time since I can remember,

-my hands are idle, but it will not be for

-long. I want them to be busy always. I want

-them to be full! I want them to be tired!

-I want them ready to do the tasks my head

-and heart suggest.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Lavendar had a strong desire to take those

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_148' name='page_148'></a>148</span>

-same hands in his and kiss them, but instead

-he rose and spread out his own long brown

-fingers on the edge of the wall, a man&rsquo;s

-hands, fine and supple, but meant to work.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I seem to have done nothing,&rdquo; he exclaimed.

-&ldquo;You look so young, so irresponsible,

-so like a bird on a bough, that I cannot

-associate dull care with you, yet you have

-lived more deeply than I. Life seems to have

-touched me on the shoulder and passed me

-by; these hands of mine have never done a

-real day&rsquo;s work, Mrs. Loring, for they&rsquo;ve

-been the servants of an unwilling brain. I

-hated my own work as a younger man, and,

-though I hope I did not shirk it, I certainly

-did nothing that I could avoid.&rdquo; He paused,

-and went on slowly, &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve thought sometimes,

-of late I mean, that if life is to be worth much,

-if it is to be real life, and not mere existence,

-one must put one&rsquo;s whole heart into it, and

-that two people&ndash;&ndash;&rdquo; He stopped; he was

-silent with embarrassment, conscious of having

-said too much.</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_149' name='page_149'></a>149</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;Can help each other. Indeed they can,&rdquo;

-Mrs. Loring went on serenely, &ldquo;if they have

-the same ideals. Hardly anyone, fortunately,

-is so alone as I, and so I have to help myself!

-Your sisters, now; don&rsquo;t they help?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Not a great deal,&rdquo; Lavendar confessed.

-&ldquo;One would, but she&rsquo;s married and in India,

-worse luck! The other is&ndash;&ndash;well, she&rsquo;s a

-candid sister.&rdquo; He laughed, and looked up.

-&ldquo;If my best friend could hear my sister

-Amy&rsquo;s view of me, just have a little sketch

-of me by Amy without fear or favour, he,

-or she, would never have a very high opinion

-of me again, and I am not sure but that I

-should agree with her.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Nonsense! my dear friend,&rdquo; exclaimed

-Robinette in a maternal tone she sometimes

-affected,&ndash;&ndash;a tone fairly agonizing to Mark

-Lavendar; &ldquo;we should never belittle the

-stuff that&rsquo;s been put into us! My equipment

-isn&rsquo;t particularly large, but I am going to

-squeeze every ounce of power from it before

-I die.&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_150' name='page_150'></a>150</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;Life is extraordinarily interesting to you,

-isn&rsquo;t it?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Interesting? It is thrilling! So will it

-be to you when you make up your mind to

-squeeze it,&rdquo; said Robinette, jumping off the

-wall. &ldquo;There is Carnaby signalling; it is

-time we went to the station.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Life would thrill me considerably more

-if Carnaby were not eternally in evidence,&rdquo;

-said Lavendar, but Robinette pretended not

-to hear.</p>

-<hr class='toprule' />

-<div class='chsp'>

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_151' name='page_151'></a>151</span>

-<a name='XII_LOVE_IN_THE_MUD' id='XII_LOVE_IN_THE_MUD'></a>

-<h2>XII</h2>

-<h3>LOVE IN THE MUD</h3>

-</div>

-<p>The next day Robinette was once more

-sitting in the boat opposite to Lavendar as he

-rowed. They were going down the river this

-time, not across it. Somehow they had managed

-that afternoon to get out by themselves,

-which sounds very simple, but is a wonderfully

-difficult thing to accomplish when there

-is no special reason for it, and when there

-are several other people in the house.</p>

-<p>Fortunately Mrs. de Tracy did not like to

-be alone, so that wherever she went Miss

-Smeardon had to go too, and there happened

-to be a sale of work at a neighbouring vicarage

-that afternoon where she considered

-her presence a necessity. Robinette had vanished

-soon after luncheon and the middy had

-been dull, so after loitering around for a

-while, he too had disappeared upon some errand

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_152' name='page_152'></a>152</span>

-of his own. Lavendar walked very slowly

-toward the avenue gateway, then he turned

-and came back. He could scarcely believe his

-good fortune when he saw Mrs. Loring come

-out of the house, and pause at the door as if

-uncertain of her next movements. She looked

-uncommonly lovely in a white frock with

-touches of blue, while the ribbon in her hair

-brought out all its gold. She wore a flowery

-garden hat, and a pair of dainty most un-English

-shoes peeped from beneath her short skirt.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Are you going out, or can I take you

-on the river?&rdquo; Lavendar asked, trying without

-much success to conceal the eagerness that

-showed in his voice and eyes.</p>

-<p>Robinette stood for a moment looking at

-him (it seemed as if she read him like a book)

-and then she said frankly, &ldquo;Why yes, there is

-nothing I should like so much, but where is

-Carnaby?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Hang Carnaby! I mean I don&rsquo;t know,

-or care. I&rsquo;ve had too much of his society

-to-day to be pining for it now.&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_153' name='page_153'></a>153</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;Well, he does chatter like a magpie, but

-I feel he must have such a dull time here

-with no one anywhere near his own age.

-Elderly as I am, I seem a bit nearer than

-Aunt de Tracy or Miss Smeardon. Aunt de

-Tracy, all the same, will never understand

-my relations with that boy, or with anyone

-else for that matter. I did try so hard,&rdquo;

-she went on, &ldquo;when I first arrived, just

-to strike the right note with her, and I&rsquo;ve

-missed it all the time, by that very fact,

-no doubt. I&rsquo;m so unused to trying&ndash;&ndash;at

-home.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;You mean in America?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Yes, of course; I don&rsquo;t try there at all,

-and yet my friends seem to understand me.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Does it seem to you that you could ever

-call England &lsquo;home&rsquo;?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I could not have believed that England

-would so sink into my heart,&rdquo; she said,

-sitting down in the doorway and arranging

-the flowers on her hat. &ldquo;During those first

-dull wet days when I was still a stranger,

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_154' name='page_154'></a>154</span>

-and when I looked out all the time at the

-dripping cedars, and felt whenever I opened

-my lips that I said the wrong thing, it

-seemed to me I should never be gay for an

-hour in this country; but the last enchanting

-sunny days have changed all that. I

-remember it&rsquo;s my mother&rsquo;s country, and if

-only I could have found a little affection

-waiting for me, all would have been perfect.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;You may find it yet.&rdquo; Lavendar could

-not for the life of him help saying the words,

-but there was nothing in the tone in which

-he said them to make Robinette conscious of

-his meaning.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m afraid not,&rdquo; she sighed, thinking of

-Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s indifference. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m much

-more American than English, much more my

-father&rsquo;s daughter than the Admiral&rsquo;s niece;

-perhaps my aunt feels that instinctively.

-Now I must slip upstairs and change if we

-are going boating.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Never!&rdquo; cried Lavendar. &ldquo;If I don&rsquo;t

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_155' name='page_155'></a>155</span>

-snatch you this moment from the devouring

-crowd I shall lose you! I will keep you

-safe and dry, never fear, and we shall be

-back well before dark.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>They went down the river after leaving

-the little pier, passing the orchards heaped

-on the hillsides above Wittisham, and Lavendar

-wanted to row out to sea, but Robinette

-preferred the river; so he rowed nearer to

-the shore, where the current was less swift,

-and the boat rocked and drifted with scarcely

-a touch of the oars. They had talked for

-some time, and then a silence had fallen,

-which Robinette broke by saying, &ldquo;I half

-wish you&rsquo;d forsake the law and follow lines

-of lesser resistance, Mr. Lavendar. Do you

-know, you seem to me to be drifting, not

-rowing! I&rsquo;ve been thinking ever since of

-what you said to me on the sands at Weston.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Ungrateful woman!&rdquo; he exclaimed,

-trying to evade the subject, &ldquo;when these

-two faithful arms have been at your service

-every day since we first met! Think of the

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_156' name='page_156'></a>156</span>

-pennies you would have taken from that tiny

-gold purse of yours for the public ferry!

-However, I know what you mean; I never

-met anyone so plain-spoken as you, Mrs.

-Robin; I haven&rsquo;t forgotten, I assure you!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;How about the candid sister? Isn&rsquo;t she

-plain-spoken?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Oh, she attacks the outside of the cup

-and platter; you question motive power and

-ideals. Well, I confess I have less of the former

-than I ought, and more of the latter than

-I&rsquo;ve ever used.&rdquo; Lavendar had rested on his

-oars now and was looking down, so that the

-twinkle of his eyes was lost. &ldquo;I suppose I

-shall go on as I have done hitherto, doing

-my work in a sort of a way, and getting a

-certain amount of pleasure out of things,&ndash;&ndash;unless&ndash;&ndash;&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Oh, but that&rsquo;s not living!&rdquo; she exclaimed;

-&ldquo;that&rsquo;s only existing. Don&rsquo;t you

-remember:&ndash;&ndash;</p>

-<table summary=''><tr><td>

-<p class='cg'>It is not growing like a tree<br />

-In bulk doth make man better be.</p>

-</td></tr></table>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_157' name='page_157'></a>157</span></div>

-<p>It&rsquo;s really <i>living</i> I mean, forgetting the

-things that are behind, and going on and

-on to something ahead, whatever one&rsquo;s aim

-may be.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;What are you going to do with yourself,

-if I may ask?&rdquo; said Lavendar. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t be

-too philanthropic, will you? You&rsquo;re so delightfully

-symmetrical now!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I shall have plenty to do,&rdquo; cried Robinette

-ardently. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve told you before, I have

-so much motive power that I don&rsquo;t know how

-to use it.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;How about sharing a little of it with a

-friend!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Lavendar&rsquo;s voice was full of meaning, but

-Robinette refused to hear it. She had succumbed

-as quickly to his charm as he to hers,

-but while she still had command over her

-heart she did not intend parting with it unless

-she could give it wholly. She knew enough of

-her own nature to recognize that she longed

-for a rowing, not a drifting mate, and that

-nothing else would content her; but her instinct

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_158' name='page_158'></a>158</span>

-urged that Lavendar&rsquo;s indecisions and

-his uncertainties of aim were accidents rather

-than temperamental weaknesses. She suspected

-that his introspective moods and his

-occasional lack of spirits had a definite cause

-unknown to her.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I haven&rsquo;t a large income,&rdquo; she said, after

-a moment&rsquo;s silence, changing the subject

-arbitrarily, and thereby reducing her companion

-to a temporary state of silent rage.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Yet no one would expect a woman like

-this to fall like a ripe plum into a man&rsquo;s

-mouth,&rdquo; he thought presently; &ldquo;she will drop

-only when she has quite made up her mind,

-and the bough will need a good deal of shaking!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I haven&rsquo;t a large income,&rdquo; repeated Robinette,

-while Lavendar was silent, &ldquo;only five

-thousand dollars a year, which is of course microscopic

-from the American standpoint and

-cost of living; so I can&rsquo;t build free libraries

-and swimming baths and playgrounds, or do

-any big splendid things; but I can do dear

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_159' name='page_159'></a>159</span>

-little nice ones, left undone by city governments

-and by the millionaires. I can sing,

-and read, and study; I can travel; and there

-are always people needing something wherever

-you are, if you have eyes to see them;

-one needn&rsquo;t live a useless life even if one

-hasn&rsquo;t any responsibilities. But&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;she

-paused&ndash;&ndash;&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve been talking all this time

-about my own plans and ambitions, and I

-began by asking yours! Isn&rsquo;t it strange that

-the moment one feels conscious of friendship,

-one begins to want to know things?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;My sister Amy would tell you I had no

-ambitions, except to buy as many books as I

-wish, and not to have to work too hard,&rdquo; said

-Mark smiling, &ldquo;but I think that would not

-be quite true. I have some, of a dull inferior

-kind, not beautiful ones like yours.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Do tell me what they are.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>He shook his head. &ldquo;I couldn&rsquo;t; they&rsquo;re

-not for show; shabby things like unsuccessful

-poor relations, who would rather not have

-too much notice taken of them. In a few

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_160' name='page_160'></a>160</span>

-weeks I am going to drag them out of their

-retreat, brighten them up, inject some poetry

-into their veins, and then display them to your

-critical judgment.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>They were almost at a standstill now and

-neither of them was noticing it at all. As

-Mrs. Loring moved her seat the boat lurched

-somewhat to one side. Mark, to steady her,

-placed his hand over hers as it rested on the

-rail, and she did not withdraw it. Then he

-found the other hand that lay upon her knee,

-and took it in his own, scarcely knowing

-what he did. He looked into her face and

-found no anger there. &ldquo;I wish to tell you

-more about myself,&rdquo; he stammered, &ldquo;something

-not altogether creditable to me; but

-perhaps you will understand. Perhaps even

-if you don&rsquo;t understand you will forgive.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>She drew her hands gently away from his

-grasp. &ldquo;I shall try to understand, you may

-rely on that!&rdquo; she said.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m not going to trouble you with any

-very dreadful confessions,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;only

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_161' name='page_161'></a>161</span>

-it&rsquo;s better to hear things directly from the

-people concerned, and you are sure to hear

-a wrong version sooner or later.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;Then

-stopping suddenly he exclaimed, &ldquo;Hullo!

-we&rsquo;re stuck, I declare! look at that!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Robinette turned and saw that their boat

-was now scarcely surrounded with water at

-all. On every side, as if the flanks of some

-great whale were upheaving from below, there

-appeared stretches of glistening mud. Just

-in front of them, where there still was a channel

-of water, was an upstanding rock. &ldquo;Shall

-we row quickly there?&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;Then

-perhaps we can get out and pull the boat to

-the other side, where there is more water.

-What has happened?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Oh, something not unusual,&rdquo; said Lavendar

-grimly, &ldquo;that I&rsquo;m a fool, and the sea-tide

-has ebbed, as tides have been known

-to do before. I&rsquo;m afraid a man doesn&rsquo;t watch

-tides when he has a companion like you!

-Now we&rsquo;re left high, but not at all dry, as

-you see, till the tide turns.&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_162' name='page_162'></a>162</span></div>

-<p>By a swift stroke or two he managed to propel

-their craft as far as the rock. They scrambled

-up on it, and then he tried to haul the

-boat around the miniature islet; but the

-more he hauled, the quicker the water seemed

-to run away, and the deeper the wretched

-thing stuck in the mud. He jumped in again,

-and made an effort to push her off with an

-oar; meanwhile Robinette nearly fell off the

-rock in her efforts to get the head of the

-boat around towards the current again, and

-making a frantic plunge into the ooze, sank

-above her ankles in an instant. Lavendar

-caught hold of her and helped her to scramble

-back into the boat. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s all right; only

-my skirt wet, and one shoe gone!&rdquo; she

-panted. &ldquo;Now, what are we to do?&rdquo; She

-spread out her hands in dismay, and looked

-down at her draggled mud-stained skirt, her

-little feet, one shoeless and both covered

-with mud and slime. &ldquo;What an object I

-shall be to meet Aunt de Tracy&rsquo;s eye, when,

-if ever, it does light on me again! Meanwhile

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_163' name='page_163'></a>163</span>

-it seems as if we might be here for

-some hours. The boat is just settling herself

-into the mud bank, like a rather tired fat

-old woman into an armchair, and pray, Mr.

-Lavendar, what do you propose to do? as

-Talleyrand said to the lady who told him she

-couldn&rsquo;t bear it.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Lavendar looked about them; the main bed

-of the river was fifty yards away; between

-it and them was now only an expanse of mud.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s perfectly hopeless,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;the

-best thing we can do is to beget some philosophy.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Which at any moment we would exchange

-for a foot of water,&rdquo; she interpolated.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;We must just sit here and wait for the

-tide. Shall it be in the boat or on the rock?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t see much difference, do you? Except

-that the passing boats, if there are any,

-might think it was a matter of choice to sit on

-a damp rock for two hours, but no one could

-think we wanted to sit in a boat in the mud.&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_164' name='page_164'></a>164</span></div>

-<p>They landed on the rock for the second

-time. &ldquo;For my part it&rsquo;s no great punishment,&rdquo;

-said Lavendar, when they settled

-themselves, &ldquo;since the place is big enough

-for two and you&rsquo;re one of them!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Wouldn&rsquo;t this be as good a stool of repentance

-from which to confess your faults as

-any?&rdquo; asked Robinette, as she tucked her

-shoeless foot beneath her mud-stained skirt

-and made herself as comfortable as possible.

-&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll even offer a return of confidence upon

-my own weaknesses, if I can find them, but

-at present only miles of virtue stretch behind

-me. Ugh! How the mud smells; quite

-penitential! Now:&ndash;&ndash;</p>

-<table summary=''><tr><td>

-<p class='cg'>&ldquo;What have you sought you should have shunned,<br />

-And into what new follies run?&rdquo;</p>

-</td></tr></table>

-<p>&ldquo;Oh, what a bad rhyme!&rdquo; said Lavendar.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s Pythagoras, any way,&rdquo; she explained.</p>

-<p>Then suddenly changing his tone, Lavendar

-went on. &ldquo;This is not merely a jest,

-Mrs. Loring. Before you admit me really

-amongst the number of your friends I should

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_165' name='page_165'></a>165</span>

-like you to know that&ndash;&ndash;to put it plainly&ndash;&ndash;my

-own little world would tell you at the

-moment that I am a heartless jilt.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;That is a very ugly expression, Mr.

-Lavendar, and I shall choose not to believe

-it, until you give me your own version of

-the story.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;In one way I can give you no other;

-except that I was just fool enough to drift

-into an engagement with a woman whom I

-did not really love, and just not enough

-of a fool to make both of us miserable for

-life when I, all too late, found out my mistake.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>There passed before him at that moment

-other foolish blithe little loves, like faded

-flowers with the sweetness gone out of them.

-They had been so innocent, so fragile, so

-free from blame; all but the last; and this

-last it was that threatened to rise like a

-shadow perhaps, and defeat his winning the

-only woman he could ever love.</p>

-<p>Robinette stared at the stretches of ooze,

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_166' name='page_166'></a>166</span>

-and then stole a look at Mark Lavendar.

-&ldquo;The idea of calling that man a jilt,&rdquo; she

-thought. &ldquo;Look at his eyes; look at his

-mouth; listen to his voice; there is truth in

-them all. Oh for a sight of the girl he

-jilted! How much it would explain! No, not

-altogether, because the careless making of his

-engagement would have to be accounted for,

-as well as the breaking of it. Unless he did it

-merely to oblige her&ndash;&ndash;and men are such idiots

-sometimes,&ndash;&ndash;then he must have fancied he

-was in love with her. Perhaps he is continually

-troubled with those fancies. Nonsense!

-you believe in him, and you know you do.&rdquo;

-Then aloud she said, sympathetically, &ldquo;I&rsquo;m

-afraid we are apt to make these little experimental

-journeys in youth, when the heart is

-full of <i>wanderlust</i>. We start out on them

-so lightly, then they lead nowhere, and the

-walking back alone is wearisome and depressing.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;My return journey was depressing enough

-at first,&rdquo; said Lavendar, &ldquo;because the particular

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_167' name='page_167'></a>167</span>

-She was unkinder to me than I deserved

-even; but better counsels have prevailed

-and I shall soon be able to meet the

-reproachful gaze of stout matrons and sour

-spinsters more easily than I have for a year

-past; you see the two families were friends

-and each family had a large and interested

-connection!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;If the opinion of a comparative stranger

-is of any use to you,&rdquo; said Robinette, standing

-on the rock and scraping her stockinged

-foot free of mud, &ldquo;<i>I</i> believe in you, personally!

-You don&rsquo;t seem a bit &lsquo;jilty&rsquo; to me!

-I&rsquo;d let you marry my sister to-morrow and

-no questions asked!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I didn&rsquo;t know you had a sister,&rdquo; cried

-Lavendar.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I haven&rsquo;t; that&rsquo;s only a figure of

-speech; just a phrase to show my confidence.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;And isn&rsquo;t it ungrateful to be obliged

-to say I can&rsquo;t marry your sister, after you

-have given me permission to ask her!&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_168' name='page_168'></a>168</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;Not only ungrateful but unreasonable,&rdquo;

-said Robinette saucily, turning her head to

-look up the river and discovering from her

-point of vantage a moving object around the

-curve that led her to make hazardous remarks,

-knowing rescue was not far away.

-&ldquo;What have you against my sister, pray?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Very little!&rdquo; he said daringly, knowing

-well that she held him in her hand, and could

-make him dumb or let him speak at any

-moment she desired. &ldquo;Almost nothing! only

-that <i>she</i> is not offering me <i>her</i> sister as a

-balm to my woes.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;She <i>has</i> no sister; she is an only child!&ndash;&ndash;There!

-there!&rdquo; cried Robinette, &ldquo;the

-tide is coming up again, and the mud banks

-off in that direction are all covered with

-water! I see somebody in a boat, rowing towards

-us with superhuman energy. Oh! if I

-hadn&rsquo;t worn a white dress! It will <i>not</i> come

-smooth; and my lovely French hat is ruined

-by the dampness! My one shoe shows how

-inappropriately I was shod, and whoever is

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_169' name='page_169'></a>169</span>

-coming will say it is because I am an American.

-He will never know you wouldn&rsquo;t let

-me go upstairs and dress properly.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It doesn&rsquo;t matter anyway,&rdquo; rejoined

-Mark, &ldquo;because it is only Carnaby coming.

-You might know he would find us even if

-we were at the bottom of the river.&rdquo;</p>

-<hr class='toprule' />

-<div class='chsp'>

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_170' name='page_170'></a>170</span>

-<a name='XIII_CARNABY_TO_THE_RESCUE' id='XIII_CARNABY_TO_THE_RESCUE'></a>

-<h2>XIII</h2>

-<h3>CARNABY TO THE RESCUE</h3>

-</div>

-<p>At Stoke Revel, in the meantime, the solemn

-rites of dinner had been inaugurated as

-usual by the sounding of the gong at seven

-o&rsquo;clock. Mrs. de Tracy, Miss Smeardon, and

-Bates waited five minutes in silent resignation,

-then Carnaby came down and was scolded

-for being late, but there was no Robinette

-and no Lavendar.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Carnaby,&rdquo; said his grandmother, &ldquo;do

-you know where Mark intended going this

-afternoon?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;No, I don&rsquo;t,&rdquo; said Carnaby, sulkily.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Your cousin Robinetta,&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;with meaning,&ndash;&ndash;&ldquo;perhaps

-you know her whereabouts?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Not I!&rdquo; replied Carnaby with affected

-nonchalance. &ldquo;I was ferreting with Wilson.&rdquo;

-He had ferreted perhaps for fifteen

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_171' name='page_171'></a>171</span>

-minutes and then spent the rest of the afternoon

-in solitary discontent, but he would not

-have owned it for the world.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Call Bates,&rdquo; commanded Mrs. de Tracy.

-Bates entered. &ldquo;Do you know if Mr. Lavendar

-intended going any distance to-day?

-Did he leave any message?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Mr. Lavendar, ma&rsquo;am,&rdquo; said Bates, &ldquo;Mr.

-Lavendar and Mrs. Loring they went out in

-the boat after tea. Mr. Lavendar asked William

-for the key, and William he went down

-and got out the oars and rudder, ma&rsquo;am.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Does William know where they went?&rdquo;

-asked Mrs. de Tracy in high displeasure.

-&ldquo;Was it to Wittisham?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;No, ma&rsquo;am, William says they went down

-stream. He thinks perhaps they were going

-to the Flag Rock, and he says the gentleman

-wouldn&rsquo;t have a hard pull, as the tide was

-going out. But Mr. Lavendar knows the river

-well, ma&rsquo;am, as well as Mr. Carnaby here.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Then I conclude there is no immediate

-cause for anxiety,&rdquo; said Mrs. de Tracy with

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_172' name='page_172'></a>172</span>

-satire. &ldquo;You can serve dinner, Bates; there

-seems no reason why we should fast as yet!

-However, Carnaby,&rdquo; she continued, &ldquo;as the

-men cannot be spared at this hour, you had

-better go at once and see what has happened

-to our guests.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Right you are,&rdquo; cried Carnaby with the

-utmost alacrity. He was hungry, but the

-prospect of escape was better than food.

-He rushed away, and his boat was in mid-river

-before Mrs. de Tracy and Miss Smeardon

-had finished their tepid soup.</p>

-<p>A very slim young moon was just rising

-above the woods, but her tender light cast

-no shadows as yet, and there were no stars

-in the sky, for it was daylight still. The

-evening air was very fresh and cool; there

-was no wind, and the edges of the river

-were motionless and smooth, although in

-mid-stream the now in-coming tide clucked

-and swirled as it met the rush. Over at

-Wittisham one or two lights were beginning

-to twinkle, and there came drifting across the

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_173' name='page_173'></a>173</span>

-water a smell of wood smoke that suggested

-evening fires. Carnaby handled a boat well,

-for he had been born a sailor, as it were, and

-his long, powerful strokes took him along at

-a fine pace. But although he was going to

-look for Robinette and Mark, he was rather

-angry with both of them, and in no hurry.

-He rested on his oars indifferently and let the

-tide carry him up as it liked, while, with infinite

-zest, he unearthed a cigarette case from

-the recesses of his person, lit a cigarette, and

-smoked it coolly. Under Carnaby&rsquo;s apparent

-boyishness, there was a certain somewhat

-dangerous quality of precocity, which was

-stimulated rather than checked by his grandmother&rsquo;s

-repressive system. His smoking

-now was less the monkey-trick of a boy,

-than an act of slightly cynical defiance. He

-was no novice in the art, and smoked slowly

-and daintily, throwing back his head and

-blowing the smoke sometimes through his lips

-and sometimes through his nose. He looked

-for the moment older than his years, and

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_174' name='page_174'></a>174</span>

-a difficult young customer at that. His present

-sulky expression disappeared, however,

-under the influence of tobacco and adventure.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Where the dickens are they?&rdquo; he began

-to wonder, pulling harder.</p>

-<p>A bend in the river presently solved the

-mystery. On a wide stretch of mud-bank,

-which the tide had left bare in going out,

-but was now beginning to cover again, a

-solitary boat was stranded.</p>

-<p>With this clue to guide him, Carnaby&rsquo;s

-bright eyes soon discovered the two dim

-forms in the distance.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Ahoy!&rdquo; he shouted, and received a joyous

-answer. Robinette and Mark were the

-two derelicts, and their rescuer skimmed towards

-them with all his strength.</p>

-<p>He could get only within a few yards of

-the rock to which their boat was tied, and

-from that distance he surveyed them, expecting

-to find a dismal, ship-wrecked pair,

-very much ashamed of themselves and getting

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_175' name='page_175'></a>175</span>

-quite weary of each other. On the contrary

-the faces he could just distinguish in

-the uncertain light, were radiant, and Robinette&rsquo;s

-voice was as gay as ever he had heard

-it. He leaned upon his oars and looked at

-them with wonder.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Angel cousin!&rdquo; cried Robinette. &ldquo;Have

-you a little roast mutton about you somewhere,

-we are so hungry!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;You <i>are</i> a pretty pair!&rdquo; he remarked.

-&ldquo;What have you been and done?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;We just went for a row after tea, Middy

-dear,&rdquo; said Robinette, &ldquo;and look at the result.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;You&rsquo;re not rowing now,&rdquo; observed Carnaby

-pointedly.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;No,&rdquo; said Mark, &ldquo;we gave up rowing

-when the water left us, Carnaby. Conversation

-is more interesting in the mud.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;But how did you get here? I thought

-you were going to the Flag Rock?&rdquo; demanded

-Carnaby.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Is there a Flag Rock, Middy dear? I

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_176' name='page_176'></a>176</span>

-didn&rsquo;t know,&rdquo; said Robinette innocently.

-&ldquo;It shows we shouldn&rsquo;t go anywhere without

-our first cousin once removed. We just

-began to talk, here in the boat, and the water

-went away and left us.&rdquo; Then she laughed,

-and Mark laughed too, and Carnaby&rsquo;s look

-of unutterable scorn seemed to have no

-effect upon them. They might almost have

-been laughing at him, their mirth was so

-senseless, viewed in any other light.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s nearly eight o&rsquo;clock,&rdquo; he said solemnly.

-&ldquo;Perhaps you can form some idea

-as to what grandmother&rsquo;s saying, and Bates.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Well, you&rsquo;re going to be our rescuer,

-Middy darling, so it doesn&rsquo;t matter,&rdquo; said

-Robinette. &ldquo;Look! the water&rsquo;s coming up.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>But Carnaby seemed in no mood for

-waiting. He had taken off his boots, and

-rolled up his trousers above his knees.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;d let Lavendar wade ashore the best

-way he could!&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;but I s&rsquo;pose I&rsquo;ve

-got to save you or there&rsquo;d be a howl.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;No one would howl any louder than you,

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_177' name='page_177'></a>177</span>

-dear, and you know it. Don&rsquo;t step in!&rdquo;

-shrieked Robinette, &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve confided a shoe

-already to the river-mud! I just put my foot

-in a bit, to test it, and down the poor foot

-went and came up without its shoe. Oh,

-Middy dear, if your young life&ndash;&ndash;&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Blow my young life!&rdquo; retorted Carnaby.

-He was performing gymnastics on the edge

-of his boat, letting himself down and heaving

-himself up, by the strength of his arms.

-His legs were covered with mud.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;No go!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s as deep as the

-pit here; sometimes you can find a rock or a

-hard bit. We must just wait.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>They had not long to wait after all, for

-presently a rush of the tide sent the water

-swirling round the stranded boat, and carried

-Carnaby&rsquo;s craft to it.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Now it&rsquo;ll be all right,&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;You

-push with the boat-hook, Mark, and I&rsquo;ll pull&rdquo;;

-but it took a quarter of an hour&rsquo;s pushing

-and pulling to get the boat free of the mud.</p>

-<p>Except for the moon it would have been

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_178' name='page_178'></a>178</span>

-quite dark when the party reached the pier.

-They mounted the hill in some silence. It

-was difficult for Robinette to get along with

-her shoeless foot; Lavendar wanted to help

-her, but she demanded Carnaby&rsquo;s arm. He

-was sulking still. There was something he

-felt, but could not understand, in the subtle

-atmosphere of happiness by which the truant

-couple seemed to be surrounded; a something

-through which he could not reach; that

-seemed to put Robinette at a distance from

-him, although her shoulder touched his and

-her hand was on his arm. Growing pangs of

-his manhood assailed him, the male&rsquo;s jealousy

-of the other male. For the moment he

-hated Mark; Mark talking joyous nonsense

-in a way rather unlike himself, as if the night

-air had gone to his head.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I am glad you had the ferrets to amuse

-you this afternoon,&rdquo; said Robinette, in a propitiatory

-tone. &ldquo;Ferrets are such darlings,

-aren&rsquo;t they, with their pink eyes?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;O! <i>darlings</i>,&rdquo; assented Carnaby derisively.

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_179' name='page_179'></a>179</span>

-&ldquo;One of the darlings bit my finger

-to the bone, not that that&rsquo;s anything to you.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Oh! Middy dear, I am sorry!&rdquo; cried

-Robinette. &ldquo;I&rsquo;d kiss the place to make it

-well, if we weren&rsquo;t in such a hurry!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Carnaby began to find that a dignified

-reserve of manner was very difficult to keep

-up. His grandmother could manage it, he

-reflected, but he would need some practice.

-When they came to a place where there were

-sharp stones strewn on the road, he became

-a mere boy again quite suddenly, and proposed

-a &ldquo;queen&rsquo;s chair&rdquo; for Robinette. And

-so he and Lavendar crossed hands, and one

-arm of Robinette encircled the boy&rsquo;s head,

-while the other just touched Lavendar&rsquo;s neck

-enough to be steadied by it. Their laughter

-frightened the sleepy birds that night.

-The demoralized remnant of a Bank Holiday

-party would have been, Lavendar observed,

-respectability itself in comparison with them;

-and certainly no such group had ever approached

-Stoke Revel before. They were to

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_180' name='page_180'></a>180</span>

-enter by a back door, and Carnaby was to

-introduce them to the housekeeper&rsquo;s room,

-where he undertook that Bates would feed

-them. Lavendar alone was to be ambassador

-to the drawing room.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;The only one of us with a boot on each

-foot, of course we appoint him by a unanimous

-vote,&rdquo; said Robinette.</p>

-<p>But the chief thing that Carnaby remembered,

-after all, of that evening&rsquo;s adventure,

-was Robinette&rsquo;s sudden impulsive kiss as she

-bade him good-night, Lavendar standing by.

-She had never kissed him before, for all her

-cousinliness, but she just brushed his cool,

-round cheek to-night as if with a swan&rsquo;s-down

-puff.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s a shabby thing to call a kiss!&rdquo;

-said the embarrassed but exhilarated youth.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Stop growling, you young cub, and be

-grateful; half a loaf is better than no bread,&rdquo;

-was Lavendar&rsquo;s comment as he watched the

-draggled and muddy but still charming

-Robinette up the stairway.</p>

-<hr class='toprule' />

-<div class='chsp'>

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_181' name='page_181'></a>181</span>

-<a name='XIV_THE_EMPTY_SHRINE' id='XIV_THE_EMPTY_SHRINE'></a>

-<h2>XIV</h2>

-<h3>THE EMPTY SHRINE</h3>

-</div>

-<p>Lavendar had discovered, much to his

-dismay, that he must return to London upon

-important business; it was even a matter of

-uncertainty whether his father could spare

-him again or would consent to his returning to

-Stoke Revel to conclude Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s arrangements

-about the sale of the land.</p>

-<p>Affairs of the heart are like thunderstorms;

-the atmosphere may sometimes seem

-charged with electricity, and yet circumstances,

-like a sudden wind that sweeps the

-clouds away before they break, may cause

-the lovers to drift apart. Or all in a moment

-may come thunder, lightning, and rain from

-a clear sky, and there is nothing that is apt

-to precipitate matters like an unexpected

-parting.</p>

-<p>When Lavendar announced that he had

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_182' name='page_182'></a>182</span>

-to leave Stoke Revel, two pairs of eyes, Miss

-Smeardon&rsquo;s and Carnaby&rsquo;s, instantly looked

-at Robinette to see how she received the news,

-but she only smiled at the moment. She was

-just beginning her breakfast, and like the

-famous Charlotte, &ldquo;went on cutting bread

-and butter,&rdquo; without any sign of emotion.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Hurrah!&rdquo; thought the boy. &ldquo;Now we

-can have some fun, and I&rsquo;ll perhaps make

-her see that old Lavendar isn&rsquo;t the only

-companion in the world.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;She minds,&rdquo; thought Miss Smeardon,

-&ldquo;for she buttered that piece of bread on the

-one side a minute ago, and now she&rsquo;s just

-done it on the other&ndash;&ndash;and eaten it too.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;She doesn&rsquo;t care a bit,&rdquo; thought Lavendar.

-&ldquo;She&rsquo;s not even changed colour; my

-going or staying is nothing to her; I needn&rsquo;t

-come back.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>He had made up his mind to return just

-the same, if it were at all possible, and he

-told Mrs. de Tracy so. She remarked graciously

-that he was a welcome guest at any

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_183' name='page_183'></a>183</span>

-time, and Carnaby, hearing this, pinched

-Lord Roberts till he howled like a fiend, and

-fled for comfort to his mistress&rsquo;s lap.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;You little coward,&rdquo; said Carnaby, &ldquo;you

-should be ashamed to bear the name of a

-hero.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve mentioned to you before, Carnaby,

-I think, that I dislike that jest,&rdquo; said his

-grandmother, and Carnaby advancing to the

-injured beast said, &ldquo;Yes, ma&rsquo;am, and so does

-Bobs, doesn&rsquo;t he, Bobs?&rdquo; reducing the

-lap-dog to paroxysms of fury. &ldquo;Would it

-be any better if I called him <i>Kitchener</i>?&rdquo;

-hissing the word into the animal&rsquo;s face.

-&ldquo;Jealous, Bobs? Eh? <i>Kitchener</i>.&rdquo; This last

-word had a rasping sound that irritated the

-little creature more than ever; his teeth jibbered

-with anger, and Miss Smeardon had

-to offer him a saucer of cream before he

-could be calmed down enough for the rest

-of the party to hear themselves speak.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Had you nice letters this morning?

-Mine were very uninteresting,&rdquo; Robinette remarked

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_184' name='page_184'></a>184</span>

-to Lavendar as they stood together at

-the doorway in the sunshine, while Carnaby

-chased the lap-dog round and round the

-lawn.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I had only two letters; one was from

-my sister Amy, the candid one! her letters

-are not generally exhilarating.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Oh, I know, home letters are usually

-enough to send one straight to bed with a

-headache! They never sound a note of hope

-from first to last; although if you had no

-home, but only a house, like me, with no one

-but a caretaker in it, you&rsquo;d be very thankful

-to get them, doleful or not.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I doubt it,&rdquo; Mark answered, for Amy&rsquo;s

-letter seemed to be burning a hole in his

-pocket at that moment. He had skimmed it

-hurriedly through, but parts of it were already

-only too plain.</p>

-<p>When the others had gone into the house,

-he went off by himself, and jumping the

-low fence that divided the lawn from the

-fields beyond, he flung himself down under

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_185' name='page_185'></a>185</span>

-a tree to read it over again. Carnaby, spying

-him there, came rushing from the house, and

-was soon pouring out a tale of something

-that had happened somewhere, and throwing

-stones as he talked, at the birds circling

-about the ivied tower of the little church.</p>

-<p>The field was full of buttercups up to the

-very churchyard walls. &ldquo;I must get away

-by myself for a bit,&rdquo; Lavendar thought.

-&ldquo;That boy&rsquo;s chatter will drive me mad.&rdquo;

-At this point Carnaby&rsquo;s volatile attention

-was diverted by the sight of a gardener

-mounting a ladder to clear the sparrows&rsquo;

-nests from the water chutes, and he jumped

-up in a twinkling to take his part in this

-new joy. Lavendar rose, and strolled off

-with his hands in his pockets and his bare

-head bent. The grass he walked in was a very

-Field of the Cloth of Gold. His shoes were

-gilded by the pollen from the buttercups, his

-eyes dazzled by their colour; it was a relief to

-pass through the stone archway that led into

-the little churchyard. To his spirit at that moment

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_186' name='page_186'></a>186</span>

-the chill was refreshing. He loitered

-about for a few minutes, and then seeing

-that the door was open, he entered the

-church, closing the door gently behind

-him.</p>

-<p>It was very quiet in there and even the

-chirping of the sparrows was softened into a

-faint twitter. Here at last was a place set

-apart, a moment of stillness when he might

-think things out by himself.</p>

-<p>He took out Amy&rsquo;s letter, smoothing it flat

-on the prayer books before him, and forced

-himself to read it through. The early paragraphs

-dealt with some small item of family

-news which in his present state of mind mattered

-to Lavendar no more than the distant

-chirruping of the birds, out there in the

-sunshine. &ldquo;You seem determined to stay for

-some time at Stoke Revel,&rdquo; his sister wrote.

-&ldquo;No doubt the pretty American is the attraction.

-She sounds charming from your description,

-but my dear man, that&rsquo;s all froth!

-How many times have I heard this sort of

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_187' name='page_187'></a>187</span>

-thing from you before! Remember I know

-everything about your former loves.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;You <i>don&rsquo;t</i>, then,&rdquo; said Lavendar to himself.

-Down, down, down at the bottom of

-the well of the heart where truth lies, there

-is always some remembrance, generally a

-very little one, that can never be told to any

-confidant.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;You will find out faults in Mrs. Loring

-presently, just like the rest of them,&rdquo; continued

-the pitiless writer. (Amy&rsquo;s handwriting

-was painfully distinct.) &ldquo;I must tell

-you that at the Cowleys&rsquo; the other day, I

-suddenly came face to face with Gertrude

-Meredith <i>and Dolly</i>! Dolly looks a good

-deal older already and fatter, I thought. I

-fear she is losing her looks, for her colour

-has become fixed, and she <i>will</i> wear no collars

-still, although on a rather thick neck,

-it&rsquo;s not at all becoming. I spoke to her for

-about three minutes, as it was less awkward,

-when we met suddenly face to face like that.

-She laughed a good deal, and asked for you

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_188' name='page_188'></a>188</span>

-rather audaciously, I thought. They live

-near Winchester now, and since the Colonel&rsquo;s

-death are pretty badly off, Gertrude says.

-Dolly is going to Devonshire to stay with

-the Cowleys; you may meet her there any

-day, remember. It does seem incredible to

-me that a man of your discrimination could

-have been won by the obvious devotion of a

-girl like Dolly; but having given your word

-I almost think you would better have kept

-it, rather than suffer all this criticism from a

-host of mutual friends.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Lavendar groaned aloud. He had a good

-memory, and with all too great distinctness

-did he now remember Dolly Meredith&rsquo;s laugh.

-How wretched it had all been; not a word

-had ever passed between them that had any

-value now. If he could have washed the

-thought of her forever from his memory,

-how greatly he would have rejoiced at that

-moment.</p>

-<p>Well, it was over; written down against

-him, that he had been what the world called

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_189' name='page_189'></a>189</span>

-a jilt and a fool; yes, certainly a fool, but

-not so great a one as to follow his folly to

-its ultimate conclusion, and tie himself for

-life to a woman he did not love.</p>

-<p>Lavendar was extraordinarily sensitive

-about the breaking of his engagement; partly

-because Miss Meredith herself, in her first

-rage, had avowed his responsibility for her

-blighted future, giving him no chance for

-chivalrous behaviour; partly because in all

-his transient love affairs he had easily tired

-of the women who inspired them. He seemed

-thirsty for love, but weary of it almost as

-soon as the draught reached his lips.</p>

-<p>And now had he a chance again?&ndash;&ndash;or

-was it all to end in disappointment once

-more, in that cold disappointment of the

-heart that has received stones for bread? It

-was not entirely his own fault; he had expected

-much from life, and hitherto had received

-very little. But Robinette!</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Let me find all her faults now,&rdquo; he said

-to himself, &ldquo;or evermore keep silent; meantime

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_190' name='page_190'></a>190</span>

-I hope I am not concealing too many

-of my own.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>He tried to force himself into criticism;

-to look at her as a cold observer from the

-outside would have done; for that curious

-Border country of Love which he had entered

-has not an equable climate at all. It

-is fire and frost alternate; and criticism is

-either roused almost to a morbid pitch, or

-else the faculty is drugged, and nothing,

-not even the enumeration of a hundred

-foibles will awaken it for a time.</p>

-<p>When the cold fit had been upon him the

-evening before, Lavendar had said to himself

-that her manner was too free&ndash;&ndash;that she had

-led him on too quickly; no, that expression

-was dishonourable and unjust; he repented

-it instantly; she had been too unself-conscious,

-too girlish, too unthinking, in what

-she said and did. &ldquo;But she&rsquo;s a widow after

-all, though she&rsquo;s only two and twenty,&rdquo;

-he went on to himself. &ldquo;Hang it! I wish

-she were not! If her heart were in her husband&rsquo;s

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_191' name='page_191'></a>191</span>

-grave I should be moaning at that;

-and because I see that it is not, I become

-critical. There&rsquo;s nothing quite perfect in

-life!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>He had begun by noticing some little defects

-in her personal appearance, but he was

-long past that now; what did such trifles

-matter, here or there? Then he remembered

-all that he had heard said about American

-women. Did those pretty clothes of hers mean

-that she would be extravagant and selfish to

-obtain them? Could a young man with no

-great fortune offer her the luxury that was

-necessary to her? and even so, what changes

-come with time! He had a full realization

-of what the boredom of family life can be,

-when passion has grown stale.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;At seventy, say, when I am palsied and

-she is old and fat, will romance be alive

-then? Will such feeling leave anything

-real behind it when it falls away, as the

-white blossoms on Mrs. Prettyman&rsquo;s plum

-tree will shrink and fall a fortnight hence?&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_192' name='page_192'></a>192</span></div>

-<p>He looked about him. On the walls of

-the little church were tablets with the de

-Tracy names; the names of her forefathers

-amongst them. Under his feet were other

-flags with names upon them too; and out

-there in the sunshine were the grave-stones

-of a hundred dead. How many of them had

-been happy in their loves?</p>

-<p>Not so many, he thought, if all were told,

-and why should he hope to be different?

-Yet surely this was a new feeling, a worthy

-one, at last. It was not for her charming

-person that he loved her; not because of

-her beauty and her gaiety only; but because

-he had seen in her something that gave a

-promise of completion to his own nature,

-the something that would satisfy not only

-his senses but his empty heart.</p>

-<p>He clenched his hands on the carved top of

-the old pew in front of him, which was fashioned

-into a laughing gnome with the body

-of a duck. &ldquo;And if this should be all a

-dream,&rdquo; he asked himself again, &ldquo;if this

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_193' name='page_193'></a>193</span>

-should all be false too! Good Lord!&rdquo; he

-cried half aloud, &ldquo;I want to be honest now!

-I want to find the truth. My whole life is

-on the throw this time!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>There was a moment&rsquo;s silence after he had

-uttered the words. He got up and moved

-slowly down the aisle, opening the door, seeing

-again the meadow of buttercups, yellow

-as gold, and listening again to the sparrows

-chirruping in the sunshine outside.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I have been in that church a quarter of

-an hour,&rdquo; he said to himself, &ldquo;and in trying

-to dive to the depths of myself and find

-out whether I was giving a woman all I had

-to give, I did not get time to consider that

-woman&rsquo;s probable answer, should I place my

-uninteresting life and liberty at her disposal.&rdquo;</p>

-<hr class='toprule' />

-<div class='chsp'>

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_194' name='page_194'></a>194</span>

-<a name='XV_NOW_LUBIN_IS_AWAY' id='XV_NOW_LUBIN_IS_AWAY'></a>

-<h2>XV</h2>

-<h3>&ldquo;NOW LUBIN IS AWAY&rdquo;</h3>

-</div>

-<p>Lavendar made his adieux after luncheon

-and went off to London. &ldquo;Good-bye for the

-present, Mrs. de Tracy; I shall be back on

-Wednesday probably, if I can arrange it,&rdquo;

-he said. &ldquo;Good-bye, Mrs. Loring,&rdquo; and here

-he altered the phrase to &ldquo;Shall I come back

-on Wednesday?&rdquo; for his hostess had left the

-open door.</p>

-<p>There was no hesitation, but all too little

-sentiment, about Robinette&rsquo;s reply.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Wednesday, at the latest, are my orders,&rdquo;

-she answered merrily, and with the words ringing

-in his ears Lavendar took his departure.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Do you remember that this is the afternoon

-of the garden party at Revelsmere?&rdquo;

-Mrs. de Tracy enquired, coming into the

-drawing room a few minutes later, where

-Mrs. Loring stood by the open window. She

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_195' name='page_195'></a>195</span>

-had allowed herself just five minutes of depression,

-staring out at the buttercup meadow.

-How black the rooks looked as they flew

-about it and how dreary everything was, now

-that Lavendar had gone! She was woman

-enough to be able to feel inwardly amused

-at her own absurdity, when she recognized

-that the ensuing three days seemed to stretch

-out into a limitless expanse of dullness. &ldquo;The

-village seemed asleep or dead now Lubin was

-away!&rdquo; Still, after all, it was an occasion

-for wearing a pretty frock, and she knew

-herself well enough to feel sure that the

-sight of a few of her fellow-creatures even

-pretending to enjoy themselves, would make

-her volatile spirits rise like the mercury in a

-thermometer on a hot day.</p>

-<p>Miss Smeardon was to be her companion,

-as Mrs. de Tracy had a headache that afternoon

-and was afraid of the heat, she said.

-&ldquo;What heat?&rdquo; Robinette had asked innocently,

-for in spite of the brilliant sunlight

-the wind blew from the east, keen as a knife.

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_196' name='page_196'></a>196</span>

-&ldquo;I shall take a good wrap in the carriage

-in spite of this tropical temperature,&rdquo; she

-thought. Carnaby refused point blank to

-drive with them; he would bicycle to the

-party or else not go at all, so it was alone

-with Miss Smeardon that Robinette started in

-the heavy old landau behind the palsied horse.</p>

-<p>Miss Smeardon gave one glance at Mrs.

-Loring&rsquo;s dress, and Robinette gave one glance

-at Miss Smeardon&rsquo;s, each making her own

-comments.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;That white cloth will go to the cleaner,

-I suppose, after one wearing, and as for

-that thing on her head with lilac wistaria

-drooping over the brim, it can&rsquo;t be meant

-as a covering, or a protection, either from sun

-or wind; it&rsquo;s nothing but an ornament!&rdquo;

-Miss Smeardon commented; while to herself

-Robinette ejaculated,&ndash;&ndash;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;A penwiper, an old, much-used penwiper,

-is all that Miss Smeardon resembles

-in that black rag!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Carnaby, watching the start at the door,

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_197' name='page_197'></a>197</span>

-whistled in open admiration as Robinette

-came down the steps.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Well, well! we are got up to kill this

-afternoon; pity old Mark has just gone; but

-cheer up, Cousin Robin, there&rsquo;s always a

-curate on hand!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>For once Robinette&rsquo;s ready tongue played

-her false, and a sense of loneliness overcame

-her at the sound of Lavendar&rsquo;s name. She

-gathered up her long white skirts and got

-into the carriage with as much dignity as she

-could muster, while Carnaby, his eyes twinkling

-with mischief, stood ready to shut the

-door after Miss Smeardon.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Hope you&rsquo;ll enjoy your drive,&rdquo; he jeered.

-&ldquo;You&rsquo;ll need to hold on your hats. Bucephalus

-goes at such fiery speed that they&rsquo;ll

-be torn off your heads unless you do.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Middy dear, you&rsquo;re not the least amusing,&rdquo;

-said Robinette quite crossly, and with

-a lurch the carriage moved off.</p>

-<p>Miss Smeardon settled herself for conversation.

-&ldquo;I&rsquo;m afraid you will find me but a

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_198' name='page_198'></a>198</span>

-dull companion, Mrs. Loring,&rdquo; she said,

-glancing sideways at Robinette from under

-the brim of her mushroom hat.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Oh, you will be able to tell me who everyone

-is,&rdquo; said Robinette as cheerfully as she

-could.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I am no gossip,&rdquo; Miss Smeardon protested.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It isn&rsquo;t necessary to gossip, is it?&ndash;&ndash;but

-I&rsquo;ve a wholesome interest in my fellow creatures.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;And it is well to know about people a

-little; when one comes among strangers as

-you do, Mrs. Loring; one can&rsquo;t be too careful&ndash;&ndash;an

-American, particularly.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Miss Smeardon&rsquo;s voice trailed off upon a

-note of insinuation; but Robinette took no

-notice of the remark. She did not seem to

-have anything to say, so Miss Smeardon took

-up another subject.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;What a pity that Mr. Lavendar had to

-leave before this afternoon; he would have

-been such an addition to our party!&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_199' name='page_199'></a>199</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;Yes, wouldn&rsquo;t he?&rdquo; Robinette agreed,

-though she carefully kept out of her voice

-the real passion of assent that was in her

-heart.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Mr. Lavendar is so agreeable, I always

-think,&rdquo; Miss Smeardon went on. &ldquo;Everyone

-likes him; he almost carries his pleasant ways

-too far. I suppose that was how&ndash;&ndash;&rdquo; She

-paused, and added again, &ldquo;Oh, but as I said,

-I never talk scandal!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Do you think it&rsquo;s possible to be too pleasant?&rdquo;

-Robinette remarked, stupidly enough,

-scarcely caring what she said.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Well, when it leads a poor girl to imagine

-that she is loved! I hear that Dolly

-Meredith is just heart-broken. The engagement

-kept on for quite a year, I believe,

-and then to break it off so heartlessly!&ndash;&ndash;I

-was reminded of it all by coming here. Miss

-Meredith is a cousin of our hostess, and they

-met first at Revelsmere when they were quite

-young.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;There is always a certain amount of talk

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_200' name='page_200'></a>200</span>

-when an engagement has to be broken off,&rdquo;

-said Robinette in a cold voice.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;They seemed quite devoted at first,&rdquo;

-Miss Smeardon began; but Robinette interrupted

-her.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;The sooner such things are forgotten the

-better, I think,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;No one, except

-the two people concerned, ever knows the real

-truth.&ndash;&ndash;Tell me, Miss Smeardon, whom we

-are likely to meet at Revelsmere? Who is our

-hostess? What sort of parties does she give?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Being so firmly switched off from the affairs

-of Mr. Lavendar and Miss Meredith, it

-was impossible for Miss Smeardon to talk

-about them any more, and she had to turn to

-a less congenial theme.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;We shall meet the neighbours,&rdquo; she told

-Robinette, &ldquo;but I am afraid they may not

-interest you very much. I understand that

-in America you are accustomed to a great

-deal of the society of gentlemen. Here there

-are so few, and all of them are married.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;All?&rdquo; laughed Robinette.</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_201' name='page_201'></a>201</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;Well, there is Mr. Finch, the curate,

-but he is a celibate; and young Mr. Tait of

-Strewe, but he is slightly paralysed.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Why, Carnaby must be quite an eligible

-bachelor in these parts,&rdquo; said Robinette; but

-Miss Smeardon was so deadly literal that she

-accepted the remark as a serious one.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Not quite yet; in a few years&rsquo; time we

-shall need to be very careful, there are so

-many girls here, but not all of them desirable,

-of course.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;There are? What a dull time they must

-have with the Married Men, the Celibate, the

-Paralytic, and Carnaby! I&rsquo;m glad my girlhood

-wasn&rsquo;t spent in Devonshire.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Conversation ended here, for the carriage

-rumbled up the avenue, and Robinette looked

-about her eagerly. Revelsmere was a nice old

-house, surrounded by fine sloping lawns and

-a background of sombre beechwoods. The

-lawns to-day were dotted with groups of people,

-mainly women, and elderly at that. As

-Robinette and Miss Smeardon alighted at

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_202' name='page_202'></a>202</span>

-the door an elderly hostess welcomed them,

-and an elderly host led them across the lawn

-and straightly they fell into the clutches of

-more and more elderlies.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It is fairly bewildering!&rdquo; Robinette cried

-in her heart; then she saw a bevy of girls approaching;

-such nice-looking girls, happy,

-well dressed, but all unattended by their

-suitable complement of young men.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;For whom do they dress, here? They&rsquo;ve

-a deal of self-respect, I think, to go on getting

-themselves up so nicely for themselves and

-the Celibate, the Paralytic, and Carnaby,&rdquo;

-thought Robinette, as she watched them.</p>

-<p>Presently another couple came across the

-lawn; the young woman was by no means a

-girl, rather heavily built, with a high fixed

-colour. She was attended by a man. &ldquo;Not

-the Celibate certainly,&rdquo; thought Mrs. Loring

-with a glance at his bullock-like figure, his

-thick neck, and glossy black hair, &ldquo;nor the

-Paralytic; and it&rsquo;s not Carnaby. It must

-be a new arrival!&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_203' name='page_203'></a>203</span></div>

-<p>At that moment it began to rain, but nothing

-daunted, their hostess approached her,

-and saying pleasantly that she wished to introduce

-her to Miss Meredith, she left Robinette

-and the young woman standing together

-under a spreading tree, and took the gentleman

-away with her.</p>

-<p>The moment that she heard the name, Robinette

-realized who Miss Meredith was. They

-seated themselves side by side on a garden

-bench, and Miss Meredith remarked upon the

-heat, planting a rather fat hand upon the

-arm of the garden seat, and surveying it complacently,

-especially the very bright diamond

-ring upon the third finger.</p>

-<p>After a few preliminary remarks, she asked

-Mrs. Loring if she were stopping in the

-neighbourhood.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Yes, I am staying at Stoke Revel for a

-short time,&rdquo; Robinette replied; &ldquo;Mrs. de

-Tracy is my aunt, or at least I am Admiral

-de Tracy&rsquo;s niece.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Her companion did not seem to take the

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_204' name='page_204'></a>204</span>

-least interest in this part of the information,

-only when Stoke Revel was mentioned she

-looked around suddenly as if surprised.</p>

-<p>They talked upon indifferent subjects,

-while Robinette, as she watched Miss Meredith,

-was saying a good deal to herself,

-although she only spoke aloud about the

-weather and the Devonshire scenery.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I will be just, if I can&rsquo;t be generous,&rdquo;

-she thought. &ldquo;She has (or she must once

-have had) a fine complexion. I dare say

-she is sincere enough; she may be sensible;

-she might be good-humoured,&ndash;&ndash;when

-pleased.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;There is going to be a shower,&rdquo; said

-Miss Meredith, &ldquo;but I&rsquo;ve nothing on to

-spoil,&rdquo; she added, glancing at Robinette&rsquo;s

-hat.</p>

-<p>Sitting there on the bench, hearing the spitting

-rain upon the water below them and

-watching the leaden mists that slowly gathered

-over the landscape, Robinette fell upon

-a moment of soul sickness very unusual to

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_205' name='page_205'></a>205</span>

-her. Miss Meredith too was silent, absorbed

-in her own thoughts.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;If she had looked even a little different

-it would have been so much easier to explain,&rdquo;

-thought Robinette. Then suddenly

-she glanced up. She saw that her companion&rsquo;s

-face had softened, and changed. There

-was a look,&ndash;&ndash;Robinette caught it just for

-one moment,&ndash;&ndash;such as a proud angry child

-might have worn: sulky, hurt to the heart,

-but determined not to cry. Instantly a chord

-was struck in Robinette&rsquo;s soul. &ldquo;She has suffered,

-anyway,&rdquo; she thought. &ldquo;May I be forgiven

-for my harsh judgment!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>With a shiver she drew her wrap about

-her shoulders, and Miss Meredith turned towards

-her. The expression Robinette had

-noticed passed from the high-coloured face

-and left it as before, self-complacent and

-slightly patronizing. &ldquo;You seem to feel

-cold,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I never do; which is rather

-unfortunate, as I&rsquo;m just going out to

-India!&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_206' name='page_206'></a>206</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;Indeed? How soon are you going?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;In about six weeks. I&rsquo;m just going to

-be married, and we sail directly afterwards,&rdquo;

-said Miss Meredith. &ldquo;You saw Mr. Joyce, I

-think, when we came up together a few minutes

-ago?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>A weight as if of a ton of lead was lifted

-from Robinette&rsquo;s heart as she spoke. She

-could scarcely refrain from jumping up to

-throw her arms about Dolly Meredith&rsquo;s neck

-and kiss her. As it was, she bubbled over with

-a kind of sympathetic interest that astonished

-the other woman. It is only too easy

-to lead an approaching bride to talk about

-her own affairs, for she can seldom take in

-the existence of even her nearest and dearest

-at such a time, and in a few minutes the

-two young women were deep in conversation.

-When a quarter of an hour later Miss Smeardon

-appeared to tell Robinette that they

-must be going, she looked up with a start at

-the sound of footsteps on the gravel path.

-&ldquo;Oh, you are here, Mrs. Loring; we couldn&rsquo;t

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_207' name='page_207'></a>207</span>

-think where you had gone,&rdquo; said Miss Smeardon,

-acidly.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;And here is Miss Meredith of all people!&rdquo;

-she continued, &ldquo;I thought you were sure to

-be on the tennis court, Miss Meredith; Mr.

-Joyce is playing now.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Oh, we have had such a delightful talk,&rdquo;

-said Dolly, so flushed with pleasure that Miss

-Smeardon gazed at her in astonishment.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;If only I knew her well enough to send

-her a munificent wedding present! How I

-should love to do so; just to register my own

-joy,&rdquo; said Robinette to herself. As it was

-she shook hands very warmly with Miss

-Meredith before they parted, and when half

-way across the lawn, looked back again, and

-waved her hand gaily. Miss Meredith was

-pacing the grass, and treading heavily beside

-her, with a very gallant air, was her bullock-like

-young man.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Mr. Joyce is quite wealthy,&rdquo; said Miss

-Smeardon. &ldquo;I understand that he is an only

-son too, and will some day inherit a fine property.

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_208' name='page_208'></a>208</span>

-Miss Meredith is most fortunate, at her

-age and with her history.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Robinette said nothing. She looked out at

-the glistening reaches of the river, now shining

-through the silver mist; at the fields

-yellow with buttercups, and the folds of the

-distant hills. As they drove up the lane to

-the house, the birds, refreshed by the rain,

-were singing like angels. In her heart too,

-something was singing as blithely as any bird

-amongst them all.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Sometimes, sometimes our mistakes do

-not come home to roost!&rdquo; she thought, &ldquo;but

-fly away and make nests elsewhere&ndash;&ndash;rich

-nests in India too!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;How did you enjoy the party, Cousin

-Robin?&rdquo; said Carnaby, who was waiting

-for them in the doorway. &ldquo;I had a good

-tuck-in of strawberries. The ladies were a

-little young for my taste; just immature

-girls; no one under sixty, and rather frisky,

-don&rsquo;t you think? By the way did you see

-Number One and her millionaire?&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_209' name='page_209'></a>209</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know what you mean by Number

-One,&rdquo; said Robinette, haughtily, as she passed

-in at the door.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;You will, when you&rsquo;re Number Two!&rdquo;

-rejoined Carnaby, stooping to pinch Lord

-Roberts&rsquo; tail till the hero yelped aloud.</p>

-<hr class='toprule' />

-<div class='chsp'>

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_210' name='page_210'></a>210</span>

-<a name='XVI_TWO_LETTERS' id='XVI_TWO_LETTERS'></a>

-<h2>XVI</h2>

-<h3>TWO LETTERS</h3>

-</div>

-<p>Lavendar tore up his fourth sheet of paper

-and began afresh. &ldquo;Dear Mrs. Loring.&rdquo;

-No, that would not do; he took another

-sheet, and began again:&ndash;&ndash;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;My dear Mrs. Loring,&ndash;&ndash;Your commission

-for old Mrs. Prettyman has taken some

-little time to execute, for I had to go to two

-or three shops before finding a chair &lsquo;with

-green cushions, and a wide seat, so comfortable

-that it would almost act as an an&aelig;sthetic

-if her rheumatism happened to be bad,

-and yet quite suitable for a cottage room.&rsquo;

-These were my orders, I think, and like all

-your orders they demand something better

-than the mere perfunctory observance. My

-own proportions differing a good deal from

-those of the old lady, it is still an open question

-whether what seemed comfortable to me

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_211' name='page_211'></a>211</span>

-will be quite the same to her. I can but

-hope so, and the chair will be dispatched

-at once.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;London is noisy and dusty, and grimy

-and stuffy, and, to one man at least, very,

-very dull. A boat on Greenshaw ferry seems

-the only spot in the world where any gaiety

-is to be found. You can hear the cuckoos

-calling across the river as you read this, no

-doubt, and Carnaby is rendered happier than

-he deserves by being allowed to row you

-down to tell Mrs. Prettyman about the

-chair. I feel as if, like the Japanese, I could

-journey a hundred miles to worship that

-wonderful tree.&ndash;&ndash;Don&rsquo;t let the blossoms

-fall until I come!</p>

-<p>&ldquo;There seems a good deal of business to

-be done. My father unfortunately is no

-better, so he cannot come down to Stoke

-Revel, and I shall probably return upon

-Wednesday morning. A poem of Browning&rsquo;s

-runs in my head&ndash;&ndash;something about

-three days&ndash;&ndash;I can&rsquo;t quote exactly.</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_212' name='page_212'></a>212</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;If my sister were writing this letter, she

-would say that I have been very hard to

-please, and uninterested in everything since

-I came home. Indeed it seems as if I were.

-London in this part of it, in hot weather,

-makes a man weary for green woods, a sliding

-river, and a Book of Verses underneath

-a Bough. Well, perhaps I shall have all of

-them by Wednesday afternoon. You will

-think I can do nothing but grumble. All

-the same, into what was the mere dull routine

-of uncongenial work before, your influence

-has come with a current of new energy;

-like the tide from the sea swelling up into

-the inland river.&ndash;&ndash;I&rsquo;m at it again! Rivers

-on the brain evidently.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I hope meanwhile that Carnaby behaves

-himself, and is not too much of a bore, and

-that England,&ndash;&ndash;England in spring at least,

-is gaining a corner in your heart? Your

-mother called it home, remember. Yes, do

-try to remember that!</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Did you go to the garden party? Did you

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_213' name='page_213'></a>213</span>

-walk? Did you drive? Did you like it?

-Who was there? Were you dull?&rdquo;</p>

-<hr class='tb' />

-<p>There was a postscript:&ndash;&ndash;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I have found the verse from Browning,

-&lsquo;So I shall see her in three days.&rsquo;</p>

-<p class='ralign'>&ldquo;M. L.&rdquo;</p>

-<hr class='tb' />

-<p class='ralign'>&ldquo;Tuesday, 19th.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Dear Mr. Lavendar: First, many thanks

-for Nurse&rsquo;s armchair, which arrived in perfect

-order, and is a shining monument to

-your good taste. She does nothing but look

-at it, shrouding it when she retires to bed

-with an old table-cover, to protect it from the

-night air.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Whether she will ever make its acquaintance

-thoroughly enough to sit in it I do not

-know, but it will give her an enormous

-amount of pleasure. Perhaps her glow of

-pride in its possession does her as much good

-as the comfort she might take in its use.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Her &lsquo;rheumatics&rsquo; are very painful just

-now, and I have a good deal to do with

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_214' name='page_214'></a>214</span>

-Duckie. You remember Duckie? I call her

-Mrs. Mackenzie, after that lady in The Newcomes

-who talked the Colonel to death. Mrs.

-Mackenzie is heavy, elderly, and strong-willed.

-I am acquainted with every bone, tendon,

-and sinew in her body, having to lift her

-into a coop behind the cottage where she

-will not wake Nurse at dawn with her eternal

-quacking. She has heretofore slept under

-Nurse&rsquo;s bedroom window and dislikes change

-of any kind. So lucky she has no offspring!

-I tremble to think of what maternal example

-might do in such a talkative family!</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Stoke Revel is as it was and ever will be,

-world without end; only Aunt de Tracy is

-crosser than when you are here and life is

-not as gay, although Carnaby does his dear,

-cubbish best. If ever you desire your mental

-jewels to shine at their brightest; if ever you

-wish a tolerably good disposition to seem

-like that of an angel; if ever, in a fit of

-vanity, you would like to appear as a blend

-of Apollo, Lancelot, Demosthenes, Prince

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_215' name='page_215'></a>215</span>

-Charlie, Ajax, and Solomon, just fly to Stoke

-Revel and become part of the household.

-Assume nothing; simply appear, and the

-surroundings will do the rest; like the penny-in-the-slot

-arrangements. Seen upon a

-background of Bates, William, Benson, Big

-Cummins, the Curate, Miss Smeardon, and

-may I dare to add, the lady of the Manor

-herself,&ndash;&ndash;any living breathing man takes on

-an Olympian majesty. I shouldn&rsquo;t miss you

-in Boston nor in London; perhaps even in

-Weston I might find a wretched substitute,

-but here you are priceless!</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I have some news for you. On Saturday

-Miss Smeardon and I went to a garden party.

-That was what it was called. The thermometer

-was only slightly below zero when we

-started, and that luminary masquerading as

-the sun was pretending to shine. Soon after

-we arrived at the festive scene, there were

-gusts of wind and rain. I sought the shelter

-of a spreading tree, the kitchen fire not

-being available, and I was joined there by

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_216' name='page_216'></a>216</span>

-the hostess, who presented her niece, your

-Miss Meredith.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Dear Mr. Lavendar, this is a subject we

-cannot write about, you and I. I am loyal

-to my sex, and what Miss Meredith said, and

-looked, and did, are all as sacred to me as

-they ought to be. I only want to tell you

-that she is happy; that she has this very

-week become engaged, and is going to

-India with her husband in a month. Now

-that little cankerworm, that has been gnawing

-at your roots of life for the last year or

-two, has done its worst, and you are perfectly

-free to go and make other mistakes.

-I only hope you&rsquo;ll get &lsquo;scot free&rsquo; from those,

-too, for I don&rsquo;t like to see nice men burn

-their fingers. We became such good friends

-huddled up in that boat when we were stuck

-in the mud&ndash;&ndash;Ugh! I can smell it now!&ndash;&ndash;that

-I am glad to be the first to send you

-pleasant news.</p>

-<p class='ralign'>&ldquo;Sincerely yours,<span class='rindent8'>&nbsp;</span><br />

-&ldquo;<span class='smcap'>Robinetta Loring</span>.&rdquo;<span class='rindent2'>&nbsp;</span></p>

-<hr class='toprule' />

-<div class='chsp'>

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_217' name='page_217'></a>217</span>

-<a name='XVII_MRS_DE_TRACY_CROSSES_THE_FERRY' id='XVII_MRS_DE_TRACY_CROSSES_THE_FERRY'></a>

-<h2>XVII</h2>

-<h3>MRS. DE TRACY CROSSES THE FERRY</h3>

-</div>

-<p>Lavendar&rsquo;s blunt refusal, except under

-certain conditions, to announce to Mrs.

-Prettyman her coming ejection from the

-cottage at Wittisham, was unprofessional

-enough, as he himself felt; but it was final

-and categorical. Conveying as it did a sort

-of tacit remonstrance, this refusal had an

-unfortunate effect, for it only served to rouse

-Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s formidable obstinacy. She

-had seized upon one point only in their numberless

-and wearisome discussions of the

-matter: Mrs. Prettyman had no legal claim

-upon Stoke Revel. To give her compensation

-for the plum tree would be to allow

-that she had; to create a precedent highly

-dangerous under the circumstances. How

-could one refuse to other old women or old

-men leaving their cottages what one had

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_218' name='page_218'></a>218</span>

-weakly granted to her? The demands would

-be unceasing, the trouble endless. So arguing,

-Mrs. de Tracy soon brought herself to

-a state of determination bordering on a sort

-of mania. She was old, and in exaggerated

-harshness her life was retreating as it were

-into its last stronghold, at bay.</p>

-<p>As good as her word, for she had vowed

-she would warn Mrs. Prettyman herself, and

-she was never one to procrastinate, the lady

-of the Manor proceeded to plan her visit to

-Wittisham. She had not crossed the river

-for years. Wittisham, one of the loveliest

-villages in England, perhaps, though little

-known, was a thorn in her side, as it would

-have been in that of any other landlord with

-empty pockets.</p>

-<p>What you could not deal with to your

-own advantage, it was better to ignore, and

-on this autocratic principle, Mrs. de Tracy

-had left Wittisham to itself.</p>

-<p>But now the boat carried her there, alone

-and fierce&ndash;&ndash;<i>thrawn</i>, as the Scotch say&ndash;&ndash;bent

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_219' name='page_219'></a>219</span>

-upon a course of conduct that she knew

-would hold her up to the hatred of every right-thinking

-person of her acquaintance, and

-bitterly triumphant in the knowledge. The

-meanness of her errand never struck her.

-On the contrary, she would have argued it

-was one well worthy of her, a part of the

-scheme in the consummation of which she

-had spent her married life and her whole

-indomitable energy, losing actually her own

-identity in the process, and becoming an

-inexorable machine. That scheme was the

-holding together of Stoke Revel for the

-de Tracys, the maintenance of family dignity

-and power, the pre-eminence of a race that

-had always ruled. The river beneath her,

-carrying her to the fulfilment of her duty,

-the noble river, widening to the sea, subject

-to its tides and made turbulent by its storms,

-typified to Mrs. de Tracy only the greatness

-of Stoke Revel. From its banks the

-de Tracys had sent out, generation after

-generation, men who had commanded fleets,

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_220' name='page_220'></a>220</span>

-who had upheld the national honour upon

-the farthest seas, very often at the cost

-of life. There was no sacrifice of herself

-at which Mrs. de Tracy would have hesitated

-in upholding this ideal, no sacrifice

-of others, either. What was Lizzie Prettyman

-in comparison? A bag of old bones, fit

-for nothing but the workhouse!</p>

-<p>&ldquo;A little faster, William,&rdquo; said the widow,

-sitting upright in the stern, and William the

-footman bent to his oars, the beads of perspiration

-standing on his brow. When Mrs.

-de Tracy stepped out upon the pier, she had

-to be reminded where the Prettyman cottage

-was.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;You&rsquo;ll know it by the plum tree,

-ma&rsquo;am,&rdquo; said William respectfully, &ldquo;everybody

-does.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>It was not far off on the river side. The

-tide had ebbed and left a stretch of muddy

-foreshore in front of it, where the rotting

-poles for hanging the fishing nets out to

-dry stood gauntly up. Mrs. de Tracy approached

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_221' name='page_221'></a>221</span>

-the steps, which merged into the

-flagged path before the door, and paused to

-survey the property she intended to part

-with. She had no eye for the picturesque.

-A few white petals from the blossoming plum

-tree, scattered by the breeze, fell upon her

-black bonnet and shoulders. A faint scent

-of honey came from it and the hum of bees,

-for the day was warm. The tumble-down

-condition of the cottage engaged Mrs. de

-Tracy&rsquo;s attention.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;And for this,&rdquo; she thought scornfully,

-&ldquo;a man will give hundreds of pounds!

-There&rsquo;s truth in the adage that a fool and

-his money are soon parted!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>She mounted the steps that led up to the

-patch of garden, her keen, cold eyes everywhere

-at once. &ldquo;A cat can&rsquo;t sneeze without

-she &rsquo;ears &rsquo;im!&rdquo; her villagers at Stoke Revel

-were wont to say, disappearing into their

-houses as rabbits into their burrows at sight

-of a terrier.</p>

-<p>Old Elizabeth Prettyman stood at her

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_222' name='page_222'></a>222</span>

-door, and it took some time to make her

-realize who her august visitor was. She was

-getting blind; she had never been a favourite

-with Mrs. de Tracy, nor had she entered

-Stoke Revel Manor since her nursling disgraced

-it by marrying a Bean. She curtseyed

-humbly to the great lady.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;There now, ma&rsquo;am,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;it&rsquo;s not

-often we have seen you across the river. Will

-you please to come inside and sit down,

-ma&rsquo;am? &rsquo;T is very warm this afternoon, it is.&rdquo;

-She was a good deal fluttered in her welcome,

-for there was that in Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s air

-that seemed to bode misfortune.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I shall sit down for a few minutes, Elizabeth,&rdquo;

-was the reply, &ldquo;while I explain my

-visit to you.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Mrs. Prettyman stood aside respectfully,

-and Mrs. de Tracy swept past her into the

-cottage and seated herself there. It never

-occurred to her to ask the old woman to sit

-down in her own house; she expected her

-to stand throughout the interview. Without

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_223' name='page_223'></a>223</span>

-further preamble, then, Mrs. de Tracy came

-to the point:&ndash;&ndash;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Elizabeth,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;I have come to

-tell you that I am going to sell the land on

-which this cottage stands, and that you will

-have to find some other home.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>The old woman did not understand for a

-minute. &ldquo;You be going to sell the land,

-ma&rsquo;am?&rdquo; she repeated stupidly.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Yes, I am. A gentleman from London

-wishes to buy it; you will need to go.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;A gentleman from London! Lor, ma&rsquo;am,

-no gentleman from London wouldn&rsquo;t live

-&rsquo;ere!&rdquo; Elizabeth cried, perfectly dazed by

-the statement.</p>

-<p>Mrs. de Tracy repeated: &ldquo;It is not your

-business, Elizabeth, what he intends to do

-with the place; all you have to do is to remove

-from the house.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>The old woman sank down on the nearest

-chair and covered her face with her hands.

-She was so old and so tired that she had no

-heart to face life under new conditions, even

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_224' name='page_224'></a>224</span>

-should they be better than those she left. A

-younger woman would have snapped her

-fingers in Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s face, so to speak,

-and wished her joy of her old rattletrap of

-a house, but Elizabeth Prettyman, after a

-lifetime of struggles, had not vitality enough

-for such an action. She had never dreamed

-of leaving the cottage, and where was she

-to go? Her furrowed face wore an expression

-of absolute terror now when she looked

-up.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;But where be I to live, ma&rsquo;am?&rdquo; she

-cried.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I do not know, Elizabeth; you must arrange

-that with your relations,&rdquo; said Mrs. de

-Tracy.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t &rsquo;ave but only me niece&ndash;&ndash;&rsquo;er as

-married down Exeter way.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Well, you should write to her then.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;She don&rsquo;t want to keep me, Nettie don&rsquo;t,&ndash;&ndash;she&rsquo;s

-but a poor man&rsquo;s wife, and five

-chillen she &rsquo;as; it&rsquo;s not like as if she were

-me daughter, ma&rsquo;am.&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_225' name='page_225'></a>225</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;You have some small sum of money of

-your own every year, have you not?&rdquo; Mrs.

-de Tracy asked.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Ten pound a year, ma&rsquo;am; the same that

-me &rsquo;usband left me; two &rsquo;undred pounds

-&rsquo;e &rsquo;ad saved and &rsquo;t is in an annuity; that&rsquo;s all

-I &rsquo;ave&ndash;&ndash;that and me plum tree.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;The plum tree is not yours, either, Elizabeth;

-that belongs to the land,&rdquo; said Mrs.

-de Tracy curtly.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;&rsquo;T was me &rsquo;usband planted it, ma&rsquo;am,

-years ago. We watched &rsquo;en and pruned &rsquo;en

-and tended &rsquo;en like a child we did&ndash;&ndash;an&rsquo; now

-to be told &rsquo;er ain&rsquo;t mine!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;You&rsquo;re forgetting yourself, Elizabeth, I

-think,&rdquo; said Mrs. de Tracy. It was simply

-impossible for her to see with the old woman&rsquo;s

-eyes; all she remembered was the legal fact

-that any tree planted in Stoke Revel ground

-belonged to the owner of the ground.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;But ma&rsquo;am, &rsquo;t is a big part of me living

-is the plum tree; only yesterday I says to

-the young lady&ndash;&ndash;Miss Cynthia&rsquo;s young lady&ndash;&ndash;I

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_226' name='page_226'></a>226</span>

-says, &lsquo;Dear knows how &rsquo;t would be with

-me without I had the plum tree.&rsquo;&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I cannot help that, Elizabeth: the

-plum tree is not yours, it belongs to Stoke

-Revel.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Then ma&rsquo;am, you&rsquo;ll be &rsquo;lowing me something

-for it surely?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;No,&rdquo; said Mrs. de Tracy obstinately,

-&ldquo;you have no legal claim to compensation,

-Elizabeth. I cannot undertake to allow you

-anything for what is not yours. If I did it

-in your case you know quite well I should

-have to do it in many others.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>There was a long and heavy silence. Elizabeth

-Prettyman was taking in her sentence

-of banishment from her old home; Mrs. de

-Tracy was merely wondering how long it

-would take her to walk down that nasty steep

-bit of path to the ferry. At last the old

-woman looked up.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;When must I be goin&rsquo; then, ma&rsquo;am?&rdquo;

-she asked meekly.</p>

-<p>Mrs. de Tracy considered. &ldquo;The transfer

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_227' name='page_227'></a>227</span>

-of land from one person to another generally

-takes some time: you will have several weeks

-here still; I shall send you notice later which

-day to quit.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Thank you, ma&rsquo;am,&rdquo; said Elizabeth simply,

-and added, &ldquo;The plum tree blossoms &rsquo;ul

-be over by that time.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t see what that has to do with it,&rdquo;

-said Mrs. de Tracy, in whose heart there was

-room for no sentiment.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;&rsquo;T would have been &rsquo;arder leavin&rsquo; it in

-blossom time,&rdquo; the old woman explained;

-but her hearer could not see the point. She

-rose slowly from her chair and looked around

-the cottage.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I am glad to see that you keep your

-place clean and respectable, Elizabeth,&rdquo; she

-said. &ldquo;I wish you good afternoon.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Elizabeth never rose from her chair to see

-her visitor to the door&ndash;&ndash;(an omission which

-Mrs. de Tracy was not likely to overlook)&ndash;&ndash;she

-just sat there gazing stupidly around the

-tiny kitchen and muttering a word or two

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_228' name='page_228'></a>228</span>

-now and then. At last she got up and tottered

-to the garden.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll &rsquo;ave to leave it all&ndash;&ndash;leave the old

-bench as me William did put for me with

-his own &rsquo;ands, and leave Duckie, Duckie

-can&rsquo;t never go to Exeter if I goes there,&ndash;&ndash;and

-leave the plum tree.&rdquo; She limped across

-the little bit of sunny turf, and stood under

-the white canopy of the blossoming tree,

-leaning against its slender trunk. &ldquo;Pity &rsquo;t is

-we ain&rsquo;t rooted in the ground same as the

-trees are,&rdquo; she mused. &ldquo;Then no one couldn&rsquo;t

-turn us out; only the Lord Almighty cut

-us down when our time came; Lord knows

-I&rsquo;m about ready for that now&ndash;&ndash;grave-ripe

-as you may say.&rdquo; She leaned her poor weary

-old head against the tree stem and wept,

-ready, ah! how ready, at that moment, to lay

-down the burden of her long and toilsome

-life.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Good afternoon, Nursie dear!&rdquo; a clear

-voice called out in her ear, and Elizabeth

-started to find that Robinette had tip-toed

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_229' name='page_229'></a>229</span>

-across the grass and was standing close beside

-her. She lifted her tear-stained face up

-to Robinette&rsquo;s as a child might have done.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve to quit, Missie,&rdquo; she sobbed, &ldquo;to

-leave me &rsquo;ome and Duckie and the plum

-tree, an&rsquo; I&rsquo;ve no place to go to, and naught

-but my ten pounds to live on&ndash;&ndash;and &rsquo;t won&rsquo;t

-keep me without I&rsquo;ve the plum tree, not

-when I&rsquo;ve rent to pay from it; not if I don&rsquo;t

-eat nothing but tea an&rsquo; bread never again!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>In a moment Robinette&rsquo;s arms were about

-her: her soft young cheeks pressed against

-the withered old face.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;What&rsquo;s this you&rsquo;re saying, Nurse?&rdquo;

-she cried. &ldquo;Leaving your cottage? Who

-said so?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s true, dear, quite true; &rsquo;asn&rsquo;t the

-lady &rsquo;erself been here to tell me so?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Was that what Aunt de Tracy was here

-about? I met her on the road five minutes

-ago; she said she had been here on business!

-But tell me, Nurse, why does she want

-you to leave? Are you going to get a better

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_230' name='page_230'></a>230</span>

-cottage? Does she think this one isn&rsquo;t

-healthy for you?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;No, no, dear, &rsquo;t isn&rsquo;t that, she &rsquo;ve sold

-the cottage over me &rsquo;ead, that&rsquo;s what &rsquo;t is,

-or she&rsquo;s going to sell it, to a gentleman

-from London&ndash;&ndash;Lord knows what a gentleman

-from London wants wi&rsquo; &rsquo;en&ndash;&ndash;and I&rsquo;ve

-to quit.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Robinette tried to be a peacemaker.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Then you&rsquo;ll get a much more comfortable

-house, that&rsquo;s quite certain. You know,

-though this one is lovely on fine days like

-this, that the thatch is all coming off, and

-I&rsquo;m sure it&rsquo;s damp inside! Just wait a bit,

-and see if you don&rsquo;t get some nice cosy little

-place, with a sound roof and quite dry, that

-will cure this rheumatism of yours.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>But Mrs. Prettyman shook her head.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;No, no, there won&rsquo;t be no cosy place

-given to me; I&rsquo;m no more worth than an

-old shoe now, Missie, and I&rsquo;m to be turned

-out, the lady said so &rsquo;erself; said as I must

-go to Exeter to live with me niece Nettie,

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_231' name='page_231'></a>231</span>

-and &rsquo;er don&rsquo;t want us&ndash;&ndash;Nettie don&rsquo;t&ndash;&ndash;and

-whatever shall I do without I &rsquo;ave Duckie

-and the plum tree?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Oh, but&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;Robinette began, quite incredulously,

-and the old woman took up her

-lament again.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;And I asked the lady, wouldn&rsquo;t I &rsquo;ave

-something allowed me for the plum tree&ndash;&ndash;that

-&rsquo;ave about clothed me for years back?

-And &lsquo;No,&rsquo; she says, &lsquo;&rsquo;t ain&rsquo;t your plum tree,

-Elizabeth, &rsquo;t is mine; I can&rsquo;t &rsquo;low nothing on

-me own plum tree.&rsquo;&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Robinette still refused to believe the story.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Nurse, dear,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;you&rsquo;re a tiny

-bit deaf now, you know, and perhaps you

-misunderstood about leaving. Suppose you

-keep your dear old heart easy for to-night,

-and I&rsquo;ll come down bright and early to-morrow

-and tell you what it really is! If you

-have to leave the plum tree you&rsquo;ll get a

-fine price put on it that may last you for

-years; it&rsquo;s such a splendid tree, anyone can

-see it&rsquo;s worth a good deal.&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_232' name='page_232'></a>232</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;That it be, Missie, the finest tree in

-Wittisham,&rdquo; the old woman said, drying her

-eyes, a little comforted by the assurance in

-Robinette&rsquo;s voice and manner.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;There now, we won&rsquo;t have any more

-tears: I&rsquo;ve brought a new canister of tea I

-sent for to London. I&rsquo;m just dying to taste

-if it&rsquo;s good; we&rsquo;ll brew it together, Nursie;

-I shall carry out the little table from the

-kitchen and we&rsquo;ll drink our tea under the

-plum tree,&rdquo; Robinette cried.</p>

-<p>She was carrying a great parcel under

-her arm, and when Mrs. Prettyman opened

-it, she could scarcely believe that this lovely

-red tin canister, filled with pounds of fragrant

-tea, could really be hers! The sight of

-such riches almost drove away her former

-fears. Robinette whisked into the kitchen

-and came out carrying the little round table

-which she set down under the white canopy

-of the plum tree. Then together they brought

-out the rest of the tea things, and what a

-merry meal they had!</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_233' name='page_233'></a>233</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s just nonsense and a bit of deafness

-on your part, Nurse, so we won&rsquo;t remember

-anything about leaving the house, we are

-only going to think of enjoyment,&rdquo; Robinette

-announced. Then the old woman was

-comforted, as old people are wont to be by

-the brave assurances of those younger and

-stronger than themselves, forgot the spectre

-that seemed to have risen suddenly across her

-path, and laughed and talked as she sipped

-the fragrant London tea.</p>

-<hr class='toprule' />

-<div class='chsp'>

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_234' name='page_234'></a>234</span>

-<a name='XVIII_THE_STOKE_REVEL_JEWELS' id='XVIII_THE_STOKE_REVEL_JEWELS'></a>

-<h2>XVIII</h2>

-<h3>THE STOKE REVEL JEWELS</h3>

-</div>

-<p>&ldquo;Hullo! Cousin Robin, hurry up, you&rsquo;ll

-need all your time!&rdquo; It was Carnaby of course

-who saluted Robinette thus, as she came

-towards the house on her return from Wittisham.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m not late, am I?&rdquo; she said, consulting

-her watch.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I thought you&rsquo;d be making a tremendous

-toilette; one of your killing ones to-night,&rdquo;

-Carnaby said. &ldquo;Do! I love to see you all

-dressed up till old Smeardon&rsquo;s eyes look as if

-they would drop out when you come into the

-room.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll wear my black dress, and her eyes

-may remain in her head,&rdquo; Robinette laughed.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;And what about Mark&rsquo;s eyes? Wouldn&rsquo;t

-you like them to drop out?&rdquo; the boy asked

-mischievously. &ldquo;He&rsquo;s come back by the afternoon

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_235' name='page_235'></a>235</span>

-train while you were away at Wittisham.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Oh, has he?&rdquo; Robinette said, and Carnaby

-stared so hard at her, that to her intense annoyance

-she blushed hotly.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Horrid lynx-eyed boy,&rdquo; she said to herself

-as she ran upstairs, &ldquo;He&rsquo;s growing up

-far too quickly. He needs to be snubbed.&rdquo;

-She dashed to the wardrobe, pulled out the

-black garment, and gave it a vindictive shake.

-&ldquo;Old, dowdy, unbecoming, deaconess-district-visitor-bible-woman,

-great-grand-auntly

-thing!&rdquo; she cried.</p>

-<p>Then her eye lighted on a cherished lavender

-satin. She stood for a moment deliberating,

-the black dress over her arm, her eyes

-fixed upon the lavender one that hung in the

-wardrobe.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t care,&rdquo; she cried suddenly: &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll

-wear the lavender, so here goes! Men are all

-colour blind, so he&rsquo;ll merely notice that I look

-nice. I must conceal from myself and everybody

-else how depressed I am over the interview

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_236' name='page_236'></a>236</span>

-with Nurse, and how I dread discussing

-the cottage with Aunt de Tracy. That must

-be done the first thing after dinner, or I shall

-lose what little courage I have.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Lavendar thought he had never seen her

-look so lovely as when he met her in the

-drawing room a quarter of an hour later.

-There was nothing extraordinary about the

-dress but its exquisite tint and the sheen

-of the soft satin. The suggestion that lay in

-the colour was entirely lost upon him, however:

-if asked to name it he would doubtless

-have said &ldquo;purplish.&rdquo; How he wished that he

-might have escorted her into the dining room,

-but Mrs. de Tracy was his portion as usual,

-and Robinette was waiting for Carnaby, who

-seemed unaccountably slow.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Your arm, Middy, when you are quite

-ready,&rdquo; she said to him at last. Carnaby&rsquo;s

-extraordinary unreadiness seemed to arise

-from his trying to smuggle some object up

-his sleeve. This proved, a few moments later,

-to be a bundle of lavender sticks tied with

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_237' name='page_237'></a>237</span>

-violet ribbon that he had discovered in his

-bureau drawer. He laid it by Robinette&rsquo;s

-plate with a whispered &ldquo;My compliments.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;What does your cousin want that bunch

-of lavender for, at the table?&rdquo; Mrs. de Tracy

-enquired.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;She likes lavender anywhere, ma&rsquo;am,&rdquo;

-Carnaby said with a wink on the side not

-visible by his grandmother. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s a favourite

-of hers.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Robinette could only be thankful that

-Lavendar was occupied in a <i>sotto voce</i> discussion

-of wine with Bates, and she was able

-to conceal the bundle of herbs before his eyes

-met hers, for the fury she felt against her

-precious young kinsman at that moment she

-could have expressed only by blows.</p>

-<p>Dinner seemed interminably long. Robinette,

-for more reasons than one, was preoccupied;

-Lavendar made few remarks, and

-Carnaby was possessed by a spirit of perfectly

-fiendish mischief, saying and doing everything

-that could most exasperate his grandmother,

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_238' name='page_238'></a>238</span>

-put her guests to the blush, and

-shock Miss Smeardon.</p>

-<p>But at last Mrs. de Tracy rose from the

-table, and the ladies followed her from the

-room, leaving Lavendar to cope alone with

-Carnaby.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;My fair American cousin is more than

-usually lovely to-night, eh, Mr. Lavendar?&rdquo;

-the boy said, with his laughable assumption

-of a man of the world.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;There, my young friend; that will do!

-you&rsquo;re talking altogether too much,&rdquo; said

-Lavendar, as he poured himself out a glass

-of wine and sat down by the open window to

-drink it. Carnaby, perhaps not unreasonably

-offended, lounged out of the room, and left

-the older man to his own meditations.</p>

-<p>Robinette in the meantime went into the

-drawing room with her aunt, and they sat

-down together in the dim light while Miss

-Smeardon went upstairs to write a letter.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Aunt de Tracy,&rdquo; Robinette began, &ldquo;I

-was calling on Mrs. Prettyman just after you

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_239' name='page_239'></a>239</span>

-had been with her this afternoon, and do

-you know the dear old soul had taken the

-strangest idea into her head! She says you

-are going to ask her to leave the cottage.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;The land on which her cottage stands is

-about to be sold,&rdquo; said Mrs. de Tracy. &ldquo;It

-is necessary that she should move.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Yes, she quite understood that; but she

-thinks she is not going to get another house;

-that was what was distressing her, naturally.

-Of course she hates to leave the old place,

-but I believe if she gets another nicer cottage,

-that will quite console her,&rdquo; said Robinette

-quickly.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I have no vacant cottage on the estate

-just now,&rdquo; said Mrs. de Tracy quietly.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Then what is she to do? Isn&rsquo;t it impossible

-that she should move until another

-place is made ready for her?&rdquo; Robinette

-rose and stood beside the table, leaning the tips

-of her fingers on it in an attitude of intense

-earnestness. She was trying to conceal the

-anger and dismay she felt at her aunt&rsquo;s reply.</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_240' name='page_240'></a>240</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;Mrs. Prettyman has relatives at Exeter,&rdquo;

-said Mrs. de Tracy without the quiver of an

-eyelid.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Yes; but they are poor. They aren&rsquo;t

-very near relations, and they don&rsquo;t want her.

-O Aunt de Tracy, is it necessary to make

-her leave? She depends upon the plum tree

-so! She makes twenty-five dollars a year

-from the jam!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Dollars have no significance for me,&rdquo;

-said Mrs. de Tracy with an icy smile.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Well, pounds then: five pounds she

-makes. How is she ever going to live without

-that, unless you give her the equivalent?

-It&rsquo;s half her livelihood! I promised you

-would consider it? Was I wrong?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Old bitternesses rose in Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s

-heart, the prejudices and the grudges of

-a lifetime. Everything connected with

-Robinette&rsquo;s mother had been wrong in her

-eyes, and now everything connected with

-Robinette was wrong too, and becoming

-more so with startling rapidity.</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_241' name='page_241'></a>241</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;You had no right whatsoever to make

-any promises on my behalf,&rdquo; she now said

-harshly. &ldquo;You have acted foolishly and officiously.

-This is no business of yours.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll gladly make it my business if you&rsquo;ll

-let me, Aunt de Tracy!&rdquo; pleaded Robinette.

-&ldquo;If you don&rsquo;t feel inclined to provide for Mrs.

-Prettyman, mayn&rsquo;t I? She is my mother&rsquo;s

-old nurse and she shan&rsquo;t want for anything

-as long as I have a penny to call my own!&rdquo;

-Robinette&rsquo;s eyes filled with tears, but Mrs.

-de Tracy was not a whit moved by this show

-of emotion, which appeared to her unnecessary

-and theatrical.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;You are forgetting yourself a good deal

-in your way of speaking to me on this subject,&rdquo;

-she said coldly. &ldquo;When I behaved unbecomingly

-in my youth, my mother always

-recommended me to go upstairs, shut myself

-up alone in my room, and collect my

-thoughts. The process had invariably a

-calming effect. I advise you to try it.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Robinette did not need to be proffered the

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_242' name='page_242'></a>242</span>

-hint twice. She rushed out of the room like a

-whirlwind, not looking where she went. In

-the hall, she came face to face with Lavendar,

-who had just left the dining room.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Mr. Lavendar!&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;Do go into

-the drawing room and speak to my aunt.

-Preach to her! Argue with her! Convince

-her that she can&rsquo;t and mustn&rsquo;t act in this

-way; can&rsquo;t go and turn Mrs. Prettyman out,

-and rob her of the plum tree, and leave her

-with hardly a penny in the world or a roof

-over her head!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s not a very pretty or a very pleasant

-business, Mrs. Loring, I admit,&rdquo; said Lavendar

-quietly.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Is it English law?&rdquo; cried Robinette

-with indignation. &ldquo;If it is, I call it mean

-and unjust!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Sometimes the laws seem very hard,&rdquo;

-said Lavendar. &ldquo;I&rsquo;d like to discuss this

-affair with you quietly another time.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>As he spoke, Carnaby appeared and wanted

-to be told what the matter was, but Robinette

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_243' name='page_243'></a>243</span>

-discovered that it is not very easy to criticise

-a grandmother to her youthful grandson,

-more especially when the lady in question is

-your hostess.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Aunt de Tracy and I have had a little difference

-of opinion about Mrs. Prettyman and

-her cottage, and the plum tree,&rdquo; she said to the

-boy quietly, and Lavendar nodded approval.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Prettyman&rsquo;s got the sack, hasn&rsquo;t she?&rdquo;

-Carnaby enquired with a boy&rsquo;s carelessness.</p>

-<p>Robinette looked very grave. &ldquo;My dear

-old nurse is to leave her cottage,&rdquo; she said

-with a quiver in her voice. &ldquo;She&rsquo;s to lose

-her plum tree&ndash;&ndash;&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;But of course she&rsquo;ll get compensation,&rdquo;

-cried Carnaby.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;No, Middy; she&rsquo;s to get no compensation,&rdquo;

-said Robinette in a low voice.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Well, I call that jolly hard! It&rsquo;s a beastly

-shame,&rdquo; said Carnaby, evidently pricking

-up his ears and with a sudden frown that

-changed his face. &ldquo;I say, Mark&ndash;&ndash;&rdquo; But

-Lavendar did not think the moment suitable

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_244' name='page_244'></a>244</span>

-for a discussion of Mrs. Prettyman&rsquo;s wrongs.

-Besides, he did not wish Robinette to be

-banished from the drawing room for a whole

-interminable evening. He contrived to silence

-Carnaby for the time being.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Let&rsquo;s bury the hatchet for a little while,&rdquo;

-he suggested. &ldquo;Have you forgotten, Mrs.

-Loring, that I made Mrs. de Tracy promise

-to show off the Stoke Revel jewels for your

-benefit this very night?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;O! but now I&rsquo;m in disgrace, she won&rsquo;t!&rdquo;

-said Robinette.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Yes, she will!&rdquo; said Carnaby. &ldquo;Nothing

-puts the old lady in such a heavenly

-temper as showing off the jewels. Don&rsquo;t you

-miss it, Cousin Robin! It&rsquo;s like the Tower

-of London and Madam Tussaud&rsquo;s rolled into

-one, this show, I can assure you. Come on!

-Come back into the drawing room. Needn&rsquo;t

-be afraid when Mark&rsquo;s there!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Robinette found that a black look or two

-was all that she had to fear from Mrs. de

-Tracy at present, and even these became less

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_245' name='page_245'></a>245</span>

-severe under the alchemy of Lavendar&rsquo;s tact.

-A reminder that an exhibition of the jewelry

-had been promised was graciously received.

-Bates and Benson were summoned, and

-armed with innumerable keys, they descended

-to subterranean regions where safes were

-unlocked and jewel-boxes solemnly brought

-into the drawing room. Mrs. de Tracy wore

-an air almost devotional, as she unlocked the

-final receptacles with keys never allowed to

-leave her own hands.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;If the proceedings had begun with

-prayer and ended with a hymn, it wouldn&rsquo;t

-have surprised me in the least!&rdquo; Robinette

-said to herself, looking silently on. Her silence,

-luckily for her, was taken for the

-speechlessness of awe, and did a good deal

-to make up, in the eyes of her august relative,

-for her late indiscretions. As a matter

-of fact, her irreverent thoughts were mostly

-to the effect that all but the historical pieces

-of the Stoke Revel <i>corbeille</i> would be the

-better of re-setting by Tiffany or Cartier.</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_246' name='page_246'></a>246</span></div>

-<p>Mrs. de Tracy opened an old shagreen

-case and the firelight flickered on the diamonds

-of a small tiara.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;This is a part of the famous Montmorency

-set,&rdquo; she announced proudly, with the

-tone of a Keeper of Regalia. Then she took

-out a rope of pearls ending in tassels. &ldquo;These

-belonged to Marie Antoinette,&rdquo; she said.</p>

-<p>An emerald set was next produced, and the

-emeralds, it was explained, had once adorned

-a crown. Deep green they were, encrusted

-in their diamond setting; costly, unique;

-but they left Robinette cold, though like

-most American women, she loved precious

-stones as an adornment. One of those emeralds,

-she was thinking, was worth fifty

-times more than old Lizzie Prettyman&rsquo;s cottage:

-the sale of one of them would have

-averted that other sale which was to cause

-so much distress to a poor harmless old

-woman.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;When do you wear your jewels, Aunt

-de Tracy?&rdquo; she asked gravely.</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_247' name='page_247'></a>247</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;I have not worn them since the Admiral&rsquo;s

-death,&rdquo; was the virtuous reply, &ldquo;and I have

-never called or considered them mine, Robinetta.

-They are the de Tracy jewels. When

-Carnaby takes his place as the head of the

-house, they will be his. He will see that his

-wife wears them on the proper occasions.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Carnaby&rsquo;s wife!&rdquo; thought Robinette.

-&ldquo;Why! she mayn&rsquo;t be born! He may never

-have a wife! And to think of all those precious

-stones hiding their brightness in these

-boxes like prisoners in a dungeon for years

-and years, only to be let out now and then

-by Bates and Benson, jingling their keys like

-jailers! And this house is a prison too!&rdquo; she

-said to herself; &ldquo;a prison for souls!&rdquo; and

-the thought of its hoarded wealth made her

-indignant; all this hidden treasure in a house

-where there was never enough to eat, where

-guests shivered in fireless bedrooms, where

-servants would not stay because they were

-starved! And Carnaby, too, whose youth was

-being embittered by unnecessary economies:

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_248' name='page_248'></a>248</span>

-Carnaby, who had so little pocket-money that

-he was a laughing-stock among his fellows&ndash;&ndash;it

-was for Carnaby these sacrifices were being

-made! Strange traditions! Fetiches of family

-pride almost as grotesque to her thinking as

-those of any savages under the sun.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;My poor dear Middy!&rdquo; she thought.

-&ldquo;What chance has he, brought up in an atmosphere

-like this?&rdquo; But she happened to raise

-her eyes at the moment, and to see the actual

-Carnaby of the moment, not the Carnaby her

-gloomy imagination was evoking from the

-future with the &ldquo;petty hoard of maxims

-preaching down&rdquo; his heart. He had contrived

-to get hold of the Marie Antoinette pearls

-without his grandmother&rsquo;s knowledge and

-to hang them around his neck; he had poised

-the Montmorency tiara on his own sleek

-head; he had forced a heavy bracelet by way

-of collar round Rupert&rsquo;s throat, and now

-with that choking and goggling unfortunate

-held partner-wise in his arms, he was waltzing

-on tiptoe about the farther drawing

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_249' name='page_249'></a>249</span>

-room behind the unconscious backs of Mrs.

-de Tracy and Miss Smeardon.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;He&rsquo;s only a careless boy,&rdquo; thought Robinette,

-&ldquo;a happy-go-lucky, devil-may-care,

-hare-brained youngster. They can&rsquo;t have

-poisoned his nature yet, and I&rsquo;m sure he has

-a good heart. If he were at the head of affairs

-at Stoke Revel instead of his grandmother,

-I wonder what would be done in

-the matter of my poor old nurse?&rdquo; Robinette

-stood in the doorway for a moment

-before going up to her room. Her whole attitude

-spoke depression as Carnaby stole up

-behind her.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;See here, Cousin Robin, I can&rsquo;t bear to

-have you go on like this. Don&rsquo;t take Prettyman&rsquo;s

-trouble so to heart. We&rsquo;ll do something!

-I&rsquo;ll do something myself! I have a

-happy thought.&rdquo;</p>

-<hr class='toprule' />

-<div class='chsp'>

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_250' name='page_250'></a>250</span>

-<a name='XIX_LAWYER_AND_CLIENT' id='XIX_LAWYER_AND_CLIENT'></a>

-<h2>XIX</h2>

-<h3>LAWYER AND CLIENT</h3>

-</div>

-<p>Robinette had a bad night after the

-jewel exhibition, and a heavy head and aching

-eyes prompted her to ask Little Cummins

-to bring her breakfast to her bedroom.</p>

-<p>It was touching to see that small person

-hovering over Robinette: stirring the fire,

-sweeping the hearth, looping back the curtains,

-tucking the slippers out of sight, and

-moving about the room like a mother ministering

-to an ailing child. Finally she staggered

-in with the heavy breakfast tray that

-she had carried through long halls and up

-the stairs, and put it on the table by the

-bed.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;There&rsquo;s a new-laid egg, ma&rsquo;am, that cook

-&rsquo;ad for the mistress, but I thought you

-needed it more; an&rsquo; I brewed the tea meself,

-to be sure,&rdquo; she cooed; &ldquo;an&rsquo; I&rsquo;ve spread

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_251' name='page_251'></a>251</span>

-the loaf same as you like, an&rsquo; cut the bread

-thin, an&rsquo; &rsquo;ere&rsquo;s one o&rsquo; the roses you allers

-wears to breakfast; an&rsquo; wouldn&rsquo;t your erming

-coat be a comfort, ma&rsquo;am?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Dear Little Cummins! How did you know

-I needed comfort? How did you guess I was

-homesick?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Robinette leaned her head against the

-housemaid&rsquo;s rough hand, always stained

-with black spots that would give way to no

-scrubbing. From morning to night she was

-in the coal scuttle or the grate or the saucer

-of black lead, for she did nothing but lay

-fires, light fires, feed fires, and tidy up after

-fires, for eight or nine months of the year.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;You mustn&rsquo;t touch me, ma&rsquo;am; I ain&rsquo;t

-fit; there&rsquo;s smut on me, an&rsquo; hashes, this time

-o&rsquo; day,&rdquo; said Little Cummins.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t care. I like you better with ashes

-than lots of people without. You mustn&rsquo;t

-stay in the coal scuttle all your life, Little

-Cummins; you must be my chambermaid

-some of these days when we can get a good

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_252' name='page_252'></a>252</span>

-substitute for Mrs. de Tracy. Would you

-like that, if the mistress will let you go?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Little Cummins put her apron up to her

-eyes, and from its depths came inarticulate

-bursts of gratitude and joy. Then peeping

-from it just enough to see the way to the

-door, she ran out like a hare and secluded

-herself in the empty linen-room until she

-was sufficiently herself to join the other servants.</p>

-<p>Robinette finished her breakfast and

-dressed. She had lacked courage to meet

-the family party, although she longed for

-a talk with Mark Lavendar. It was entirely

-normal, feminine, and according to all law,

-human and divine, but it appealed also to

-her sense of humour, that she should feel

-that this new man-friend could straighten

-out all the difficulties in the path. She

-waited patiently at her window until she

-saw him walk around the corner of the house,

-under the cedars, and up the twisting path,

-his head bent and bare, his hands in his

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_253' name='page_253'></a>253</span>

-pockets. Then she flung her blue cape over

-her shoulders and followed him.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Mr. Lavendar,&rdquo; she called, as she caught

-up with his slow step, &ldquo;you said you would advise

-me a little. Let us sit on this bench a

-moment and find out how we can untangle

-all the knots into which Aunt de Tracy tied

-us yesterday. I am so afraid of her that I

-am sure I spoke timidly and respectfully to

-her at first; but perhaps I showed more feeling

-at the end than I should. I am willing

-to apologize to her for any lack of courtesy,

-but I don&rsquo;t see how I can retract anything

-I said.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It is hard for you,&rdquo; Lavendar replied,

-&ldquo;because you have a natural affection for

-your mother&rsquo;s old nurse; and Mrs. de Tracy, I

-begin to believe, is more than indifferent to

-her. She has some active dislike, perhaps,

-the source of which is unknown to us.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;But she is so unjust!&rdquo; cried Robinette.

-&ldquo;I never heard of an Irish landlord in a

-novel who would practice such a piece of eviction.

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_254' name='page_254'></a>254</span>

-If I must stand by and see it done,

-then I shall assert my right to provide for

-Nurse and move her into a new dwelling.

-After you left the drawing room last night,

-I begged as tactfully as I could that Aunt de

-Tracy would sell me some of the jewels, so

-that she need not part with the land at Wittisham.

-She was very angry, and wouldn&rsquo;t hear

-of it. Then I proposed buying the plum-tree

-cottage, that it might be kept in the family,

-and she was furious at my audacity. Perhaps

-the Admiral&rsquo;s niece is <i>not</i> in the family.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;She cannot endure anything like patronage,

-or even an assumption of equality,&rdquo; said

-Lavendar. &ldquo;You must be careful there.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Should I be likely to patronize?&rdquo; asked

-Robinette reproachfully.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;No; but your acquaintance with your

-aunt is a very brief one, and she is an extraordinary

-character; hard to understand.

-You may easily stumble on a prejudice of

-hers at every step.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I shouldn&rsquo;t like to understand her any

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_255' name='page_255'></a>255</span>

-better than I do now,&rdquo; and Robinette pushed

-back her hair rebelliously.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Will you be my client for about five

-minutes?&rdquo; asked Lavendar.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Yes, willingly enough, for I see nothing

-before me but to take Nurse Prettyman and

-depart in the first steamer for America.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Mrs. Loring looked as if she were quite

-capable of this rather radical proceeding, and

-very much, too, as if any growing love for

-Lavendar that she might have, would easily

-give way under this new pressure of circumstances.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;This is the situation in a nutshell,&rdquo; said

-Lavendar, filling his pipe. &ldquo;Mrs. de Tracy is

-entirely within her legal rights when she

-asks Mrs. Prettyman to leave the cottage;

-legally right also when she declines to give

-compensation for the plum tree that has been

-a source of income; financially right moreover

-in selling cottage and land at a fancy

-price to find money for needed improvements

-on the estate.&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_256' name='page_256'></a>256</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;None of this can be denied, I allow.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;All these legal rights could have been

-softened if Mrs. de Tracy had been willing

-to soften them, but unfortunately she has

-been put on the defensive. She did not like

-it when I opposed her in the first place. She

-did not like it when my father advised her to

-make some small settlement, as he did, several

-days ago. She resented Mrs. Prettyman&rsquo;s assumption

-of owning the plum tree; she was

-outraged at your valiant espousing of your

-nurse&rsquo;s cause.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I see; we have simply made her more

-determined in her injustice.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Now it is all very well for you to show

-your mettle,&rdquo; Lavendar went on, &ldquo;for you

-to endure your aunt&rsquo;s displeasure rather

-than give up a cause you know to be just;

-but look where it lands us.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Robinette raised her troubled eyes to

-Lavendar&rsquo;s, giving a sigh to show she realized

-that her landing-place would be wherever

-the lawyer fixed it, not where she wished it.</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_257' name='page_257'></a>257</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;Go on,&rdquo; she sighed patiently.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Your legal adviser regards it as impossible

-that you should come over from America

-and quarrel with your mother&rsquo;s family;&ndash;&ndash;your

-only family, in point of fact. If this

-affair is fought to a finish you will feel like

-leaving your aunt&rsquo;s house.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I shouldn&rsquo;t have to wait for that feeling,&rdquo;

-said Robinette irrepressibly. &ldquo;Aunt de Tracy

-would have it first!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;In such an event I could and would stand

-by you, naturally.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;<i>Would</i> you?&rdquo; cried Robinette glowing

-instantly like a jewel.</p>

-<p>Lavendar looked at her in amazement.

-&ldquo;Pray what do you take me for? On whose

-side could I, should I be, my dear&ndash;&ndash;my dear

-Mrs. Loring? But to keep to business. In

-the event stated above, neither my father nor

-I could very well continue to have charge of

-the estate. That is a small matter, but increases

-the difficulties, owing to a long friendship

-dating back to the Admiral&rsquo;s time.

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_258' name='page_258'></a>258</span>

-Then we have Carnaby. Carnaby, my dear

-Mrs. Loring, belongs to you. Do you want

-to give him up? He adores you and you will

-have an unbounded influence on him, if you

-choose to exercise it.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;How can I influence Carnaby&ndash;&ndash;in America?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>This was a blow, but Lavendar made no

-sign. &ldquo;You may not always be in America,&rdquo;

-he said. &ldquo;Now why not let Mrs. de Tracy

-sell the land and cottage and plum tree in

-the ordinary course of things? Oh, how I

-wish <i>I</i> could buy the blessed thing!&rdquo; he

-exclaimed, parenthetically.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Oh! how I wish <i>I</i> could buy the plum tree,

-and keep it, always blossoming, in my morning-room!&rdquo;

-sighed Robinette.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;But unfortunately, Waller R. A. will buy

-the plum tree, confound him! Now, just

-after Mrs. de Tracy has definitely sold the

-premises and all their appurtenances, suppose

-you, in your prettiest and most docile way

-(docility not being your strong point!) ask

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_259' name='page_259'></a>259</span>

-your aunt if she has any objection to your

-taking care of Mrs. Prettyman during the

-few years remaining to her. Meantime keep

-her from irritating Mrs. de Tracy, and make

-the poor old dear happy with plans for her

-future. If you are short on docility you are

-long on making people happy!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Never did I hear such an argument! It

-would make Macduff fall into the arms of

-Macbeth; it would tranquillize the Kilkenny

-cats themselves! I&rsquo;ll run in and apologize abjectly

-to my thrice guilty aunt, then I&rsquo;ll reward

-myself by going over to Wittisham.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;If you&rsquo;ll take the ferry over, I&rsquo;d like to

-come and fetch you if I may. That shall be

-my reward.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Reward for what?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;For giving you advice very much against

-my personal inclinations. Courses of action

-founded entirely on policy do not appeal to

-me very strongly.&rdquo;</p>

-<hr class='toprule' />

-<div class='chsp'>

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_260' name='page_260'></a>260</span>

-<a name='XX_THE_NEW_HOME' id='XX_THE_NEW_HOME'></a>

-<h2>XX</h2>

-<h3>THE NEW HOME</h3>

-</div>

-<p>It was in rather a chastened spirit that

-Robinette set off to see Mrs. Prettyman.

-&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve been foolish, I&rsquo;ve been imprudent;

-oh! dear me! I&rsquo;ve still so much to learn!&rdquo;

-she sighed to herself. &ldquo;No good is ever done

-by losing one&rsquo;s temper; it only puts everything

-wrong. I shall have to try and take

-Mr. Lavendar&rsquo;s advice. I must be very prudent

-with Nurse this morning&ndash;&ndash;never show

-her that I think Aunt de Tracy is in the

-wrong; just persuade her ever so gently to

-move to another home, and arrange with her

-where it is to be.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>It is always difficult for an impetuous nature

-like Robinette&rsquo;s to hold back about anything.

-She would have liked to run straight

-into Mrs. Prettyman&rsquo;s room, and, flinging

-her arms round the old woman&rsquo;s neck, cry

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_261' name='page_261'></a>261</span>

-out to her that everything was settled. And

-instead she must come to the point gently,

-prudently, wisely, &ldquo;like other people&rdquo; as she

-said to herself.</p>

-<p>The cottage seemed very still that afternoon,

-and Robinette knocked twice before

-she heard the piping old voice cry out to her

-to come in.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Why, Nurse dear, where are you? Were

-you asleep?&rdquo; Robinette said as she entered,

-for Mrs. Prettyman was not sitting in the

-fine new chair. Then she found that the voice

-answered from the little bedroom off the

-kitchen, and that the old woman was in

-bed.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I ain&rsquo;t ill, so to speak, dear, just weary

-in me bones,&rdquo; she explained, as Robinette

-sat down beside her. &ldquo;And Mrs. Darke, me

-neighbour, she sez to me, &lsquo;You do take the

-day in bed, Mrs. Prettyman, me dear, an&rsquo; I&rsquo;ll

-do your bit of work for &rsquo;ee&rsquo;&ndash;&ndash;so &rsquo;ere I be,

-Missie, right enough.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m afraid you were worried yesterday,&rdquo;

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_262' name='page_262'></a>262</span>

-said Robinette; &ldquo;worried about leaving the

-house.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I were, Missie, I were,&rdquo; she confessed.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s why I came to-day; you must

-stop worrying, for I&rsquo;ve settled all about it.

-I spoke to my aunt last night, and it&rsquo;s true

-that you have to leave this house; but now

-I&rsquo;ve come to make arrangements with you

-about a new one.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>The old woman covered her face with

-her hands and gave a little cry that went

-straight to Robinette&rsquo;s heart.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Lor&rsquo; now, Miss, &rsquo;ow am I ever to leave

-this place where I&rsquo;ve been all these years?

-I thought yesterday as you said &rsquo;twas a mistake

-I&rsquo;d made.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;But alas, it wasn&rsquo;t altogether a mistake,&rdquo;

-Robinette had to confess sadly, her eyes filling

-with tears as she realized how she had

-only doubled her old friend&rsquo;s disappointment.

-Then she sat forward and took Mrs. Prettyman&rsquo;s

-hand in hers.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Nursie dear,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t want you

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_263' name='page_263'></a>263</span>

-to grieve about leaving the old home, for it

-isn&rsquo;t an awfully good one; the new one is

-going to be ever so much better!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s so, I&rsquo;m sure, dearie, only &rsquo;tis

-<i>new</i>,&rdquo; faltered Mrs. Prettyman. &ldquo;If you&rsquo;re

-spared to my age, Missie, you&rsquo;ll find as new

-things scare you.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Ah, but not a new house, Nursie!

-Wait till I describe it! Everything strong and

-firm about it, not shaking in the storms as

-this one does; nice bright windows to let in

-all the sunshine; so no more &lsquo;rheumatics&rsquo;

-and no more tears of pain in your dear old

-eyes!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Robinette&rsquo;s voice failed suddenly, for it

-struck her all in a moment that her glowing

-description of the new home seemed to have

-in it something prophetic. That bent little

-figure beside her, these shaking limbs and

-dim old eyes,&ndash;&ndash;all this house of life, once

-so carefully builded, was crumbling again

-into the dust, and its tenant indeed wanted

-a new one, quite, quite different! A sob

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_264' name='page_264'></a>264</span>

-rose in Robinette&rsquo;s throat, but she swallowed

-it down and went on gaily.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve settled about another thing, too;

-you&rsquo;re to have another plum tree, or life

-wouldn&rsquo;t be the same thing to you. And you

-know they can transplant quite big trees

-now-a-days and make them grow wonderfully.

-Some one was telling me all about how it is

-done only a few days ago. They dig them

-up ever so carefully, and when they put them

-into the new hole, every tiny root is spread

-out and laid in the right direction in the

-ground, and patted and coaxed in, and made

-firm, and they just catch hold on the soil in

-the twinkle of an eye. Isn&rsquo;t it marvellous?

-Well, I&rsquo;ll have a fine new tree planted for

-you so cleverly that perhaps by next year

-you&rsquo;ll be having a few plums, who knows?

-And the next year more plums! And the

-next year, jam!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;&rsquo;Twill be beautiful, sure enough,&rdquo; said

-the old woman, kindling at last under the

-description of all these joys. &ldquo;And do you

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_265' name='page_265'></a>265</span>

-think, Missie, as the new cottage will really

-be curing of me rheumatics?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Why yes, Nurse. Whoever heard of

-rheumatism in a dry new house?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;The house be new, but the rheumatics

-be old,&rdquo; said Mrs. Prettyman sagely.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Well, we can&rsquo;t make <i>you</i> entirely new,

-but we&rsquo;ll do our best. I&rsquo;m going to enquire

-about a nice cottage not very far from here;

-there&rsquo;s plenty of time before this one is sold.

-It shall be dry and warm and cosy, and you

-will feel another person in it altogether.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;These new houses be terrible dear, bain&rsquo;t

-they?&rdquo; the old woman said anxiously.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Not a bit; besides that&rsquo;s another matter

-I want to settle with you, Nursie. I&rsquo;m going

-to pay the rent always, and you&rsquo;re going to

-have a nice little girl to help you with the

-work, and there will be something paid to

-you each month, so that you won&rsquo;t have any

-anxiety.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Oh, Missie, Missie, whatever be you

-sayin&rsquo;? <i>Me</i> never to have no anxiety again!&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_266' name='page_266'></a>266</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;You never shall, if I can help it; old

-people should never have worries; that&rsquo;s

-what young people are here for, to look after

-them and keep them happy.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Mrs. Prettyman lay back on the pillow and

-gazed at Robinette incredulously; it wasn&rsquo;t

-possible that such a solution had come to

-all her troubles. For seventy odd years she

-had worked and struggled and sometimes

-very nearly starved and here was some one

-assuring her that these struggles were over

-forever, that she needn&rsquo;t work hard any

-more, or ever worry again. Could it be

-true? And all to come from Miss Cynthia&rsquo;s

-daughter!</p>

-<p>Robinette bent down and kissed the

-wrinkled old face softly.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Good-night, Nursie dear,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m

-not going to stay any longer with you to-day,

-because you&rsquo;re tired. Have a good sleep,

-and waken up strong and bright.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Good-night, Missie, good-night, dear,&rdquo;

-the old woman said. Her face had taken on

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_267' name='page_267'></a>267</span>

-an expression of such peacefulness as it had

-never worn before.</p>

-<p>She turned over on her pillow and closed

-her eyes, scarcely waiting for Robinette

-to leave the room.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve been allowed to do that, anyway,&rdquo;

-Robinette said to herself, standing in the

-doorway to look back at the quiet sleeper,

-and then looking forward to a little boat

-nearing the shore. The cottage sheltered almost

-the only object that connected her with

-her past; the boat, she felt, held all her future.</p>

-<hr class='tb' />

-<p>The river, when Lavendar rowed himself

-across it, was very quiet. &ldquo;The swelling of

-Jordan,&rdquo; as Robinette called the rising tide,

-was over; now the glassy water reflected every

-leaf and twig from the trees that hung above

-its banks and dipped into it here and there.</p>

-<p>Mooring his boat at the landing, Mark

-sauntered up to Mrs. Prettyman&rsquo;s cottage,

-and having tapped lightly at the door to let

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_268' name='page_268'></a>268</span>

-Mrs. Loring know of his arrival, as they had

-agreed he should do, he went along the

-flagged pathway into the garden, and sat

-down on the edge of the low wall that divided

-it from the river. Just in front of him was

-the little worn bench where he had first seen

-Robinette as she sat beside her old nurse

-with the tiny shoe on her lap. It was scarcely

-a fortnight ago; yet it seemed to him that he

-could hardly remember the kind of man he

-had been that afternoon; a new self, full of

-a new purpose, and at that moment of a new

-hope, had taken the place of the objectless

-being he had been before.</p>

-<p>Everything was very still; there was scarcely

-a sound from the village or from the shipping

-farther down the river. Lavendar fancied he

-heard Robinette&rsquo;s clear voice within the cottage;

-then he started suddenly and the blood

-rushed to his heart as he listened to her light

-steps coming along the paved footpath.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Here you are!&rdquo; she whispered. &ldquo;Let us

-not speak too loud, for Nurse was just dropping

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_269' name='page_269'></a>269</span>

-asleep when I left her. I&rsquo;ve put a table-cover

-and a blanket over &lsquo;Mrs. Mackenzie&rsquo; to

-keep her from quacking. Mrs. Prettyman has

-not been very well, poor dear, and is in bed.

-We&rsquo;ve just talked about the lovely new home

-she&rsquo;s going to have, and the transplanted

-plum tree; small, but warranted to bear in a

-year or two and give plums and jam like this

-one. I left her so happy!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>She stopped and looked up. &ldquo;Oh! can any

-new tree be as beautiful as this one? Was

-ever anything in the world more exquisite?

-It has just come to its hour of perfection,

-Mr. Lavendar; it couldn&rsquo;t last,&ndash;&ndash;anything

-so lovely in a passing world.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>She sat down on the low wall, and looked

-up at the tree. It stood and shone there in

-its perfect hour. Another day, and the blossoms,

-too fully blown, would begin to drift

-upon the ground with every little shaking

-wind; now it was at its zenith, a miracle of

-such white beauty that it caused the heart

-to stop and consider. Bees and butterflies

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_270' name='page_270'></a>270</span>

-hummed and flew around it; it cast a delicate

-shadow on the grass, and leaning across the

-wall it was imaged again in the river like a

-bride in her looking-glass.</p>

-<p>Robinette sat gazing at the tree, and

-Lavendar sat gazing at her. At that moment

-he &ldquo;feared his fate too much&rdquo; to break the

-silence by any question that might shatter

-his hope, as the first breeze would break the

-picture that had taken shape in the glassy

-water beneath them.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I feel in a better temper now,&rdquo; said Robinette.

-&ldquo;Who could be angry, and look at that

-beautiful thing? I&rsquo;ve left dear old Nurse

-quite happy again, and I haven&rsquo;t yet offended

-Aunt de Tracy irrevocably, and all because

-you persuaded me not to be unreasonable.

-All the same I could do it again in another

-minute if I let myself go. Doesn&rsquo;t injustice

-ever make people angry in England?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Lavendar laughed. &ldquo;It often makes me

-feel angry, but I&rsquo;ve never found that throwing

-the reins on the horses&rsquo; necks when they

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_271' name='page_271'></a>271</span>

-wanted to bolt, made one go along the right

-road any faster in the end.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I often think,&rdquo; said Robinette, &ldquo;if we

-could see people really angry and disagreeable

-before we&ndash;&ndash;&rdquo; She hesitated and added,

-&ldquo;get to know them well, we should be so

-much more careful.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Mark, bending down his head

-and speaking very deliberately, &ldquo;that&rsquo;s why

-I wish you could have seen me in all my

-worst moments. I&rsquo;d stand the shame of it,

-if you could only know, but, alas, one can&rsquo;t

-show off one&rsquo;s worst moments to order;

-they must be hit upon unexpectedly.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t believe thirty years of life would

-teach one about some people&ndash;&ndash;they are so

-<i>crevicey</i>,&rdquo; said Robinette musingly. She had

-risen and leaned against the plum tree for

-a moment, looking up through the white

-branches.</p>

-<p>Lavendar rose and stood beside her.

-&ldquo;Thirty years&ndash;&ndash;I shall be getting on to

-seventy in thirty years.&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_272' name='page_272'></a>272</span></div>

-<p>A little gust of wind shook the tree;

-some petals came drifting down upon them,

-like white moths, like flakes of summer

-snow, a warning that the brief hour of

-perfection would soon be past ... and

-under it human creatures were talking about

-thirty years!</p>

-<hr class='toprule' />

-<div class='chsp'>

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_273' name='page_273'></a>273</span>

-<a name='XXI_CARNABY_CUTS_THE_KNOT' id='XXI_CARNABY_CUTS_THE_KNOT'></a>

-<h2>XXI</h2>

-<h3>CARNABY CUTS THE KNOT</h3>

-</div>

-<p>That afternoon, Carnaby was having

-what he called &ldquo;an absolutely mouldy time,&rdquo;

-and since his leave was running out and his

-remaining afternoons were few, he considered

-himself an injured individual. Robinette

-and Lavendar seemed for ever preoccupied

-either with each other or with some

-subject of discussion, the ins and outs of

-which they had not confided to him.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s partly that blessed plum tree,&rdquo; he

-said to himself; &ldquo;but of course they&rsquo;re

-spooning too. Very likely they&rsquo;re engaged

-by this time. Didn&rsquo;t I tell her she&rsquo;d marry

-again? Well, if she must, it might as well

-be old Lavendar as anyone else. He&rsquo;s a

-decent chap, or he was, before he fell in

-love.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Carnaby sighed. This effort of generosity

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_274' name='page_274'></a>274</span>

-towards his rival made him feel peculiarly

-disconsolate. He had fished and rowed on

-the river all the morning; he had ferreted;

-he had fed Rupert with a private preparation

-of rabbits which infallibly made him

-sick, the desired result being obtained with

-almost provoking celerity. Thus even success

-had palled, and Carnaby&rsquo;s sharp and

-idle wits had begun to work on the problem

-which seemed to be occupying his elders.

-Neither Robinette nor Lavendar could expatiate

-to the boy on his grandmother&rsquo;s peculiarities,

-but Carnaby had contrived to find

-out for himself how the land lay.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Why is Waller R. A. so keen on the

-plum tree?&rdquo; he had enquired.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;He wants to make a quartette of studies,&rdquo;

-answered Lavendar. &ldquo;The Plum Tree in

-spring, summer, autumn, and winter.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;What a rotten idea!&rdquo; said Carnaby

-simply.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Far from rotten, my young friend, I

-can assure you!&rdquo; Lavendar returned. &ldquo;It

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_275' name='page_275'></a>275</span>

-will furnish coloured illustrations for countless

-summer numbers of the <i>Graphic</i> and <i>The

-Lady&rsquo;s Pictorial</i>, and fill Waller R. A.&rsquo;s

-pockets with gold, some of which will shortly

-filter in advance into the Stoke Revel banking

-account, we hope.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m not so sure about that!&rdquo; said Carnaby;

-but he said it to himself, while aloud

-he only asked with much apparent innocence,

-&ldquo;Waller R. A. wouldn&rsquo;t look at

-the cottage or the land without the plum

-tree, I suppose?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Certainly not,&rdquo; Lavendar had answered.

-&ldquo;The plum tree is safeguarded in the

-agreement as I&rsquo;m sure no plum tree ever

-was before. Waller R. A.&rsquo;s no fool!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Digesting this information and much else

-that he had gleaned, Carnaby now climbed

-to the top of a tree where he had a favourite

-perch, and did some serious and simple

-thinking.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s a beastly shame,&rdquo; he said to himself,

-&ldquo;to turn that old woman out of her

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_276' name='page_276'></a>276</span>

-cottage. Cousin Robin thinks it&rsquo;s a beastly

-shame, and what&rsquo;s more, Mark does, and

-he&rsquo;s a man, and a lawyer into the bargain.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Carnaby thought remorsefully of a pot of

-jam which old Mrs. Prettyman had given

-him once to take back to college. What

-good jam it had been, and how large the

-pot! He had never given her anything&ndash;&ndash;he

-had never a penny to bless himself with;

-and now his grandmother was taking away

-from the poor old creature all that she had.

-&ldquo;It&rsquo;s regular covetousness,&rdquo; he thought,

-&ldquo;and that infernal plum tree&rsquo;s at the bottom

-of it all. Naboth&rsquo;s vineyard is a joke in comparison,

-and What&rsquo;s-his-name and the one

-ewe lamb simply aren&rsquo;t in it.&rdquo; He grew hot

-with mortification. Then he reflected, &ldquo;If

-the plum tree weren&rsquo;t there, Waller R. A.

-wouldn&rsquo;t want the cottage, and old Mrs.

-Prettyman could live in it till the end of the

-chapter.&rdquo; A slow grin dawned upon his face,

-its most mischievous expression, the one

-which Rupert with canine sagacity had learned

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_277' name='page_277'></a>277</span>

-to dread. He felt and pinched the muscle

-of his arm fondly. (<i>Mussle</i> he always spelled

-the word himself, upon phonetic principles.)</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I may be a fool and a minor&rdquo; (generally

-spelt <i>miner</i> by him), he said, as he climbed

-down from his perch, &ldquo;but at least I can

-cut down a tree!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>He became lost to view forthwith in the

-workshops and tool-sheds attached to the

-home premises of Stoke Revel, and presently

-emerged, furnished with the object he had

-made diligent and particular search for;

-this he proceeded to carry in an inconspicuous

-way to a distant cottage where he

-knew there was a grindstone. He spent a

-happy hour with the object, the grindstone,

-and a pail of water. <i>Whirr</i>, <i>whirr</i>, <i>whirr</i>,

-sang the grindstone, now softly, now loudly&ndash;&ndash;&ldquo;<i>this

-is an axe, an axe, an axe, and a

-strong arm that holds it</i>!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;You be goin&rsquo; to do a bit of forestry on

-your own, Master Carnaby, eh?&rdquo; suggested

-the grinning owner of the grindstone.</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_278' name='page_278'></a>278</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;I am; a very particular bit, Jones!&rdquo;

-replied the young master, lovingly feeling

-the edge of the tool, which was now nearly

-as fine as that of a razor.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;You be careful, sir, as you don&rsquo;t chop

-off one of your own toes with that there

-axe,&rdquo; said the man. &ldquo;It be full heavy for

-one o&rsquo; your age. But there! you zailor-men

-be that handy! &rsquo;Tis your trade, so to

-speak!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Quite right, Jones, it is!&rdquo; replied Carnaby.

-&ldquo;Good-afternoon and thank you for

-the use of the grindstone.&rdquo; He was already

-planning where he would hide the axe, for

-he had precise ideas about everything and

-left nothing to chance.</p>

-<p>Carnaby went to bed that night at his

-usual hour. His profession had already accustomed

-him to awaking at odd intervals,

-and he had more than the ordinary boy&rsquo;s

-knowledge of moon and tide, night and dawn.

-When he slipped out of bed after a few

-hours of sound sleep, he put on a flannel

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_279' name='page_279'></a>279</span>

-shirt and trousers and a broad belt, and then,

-carrying his boots in his hand, crept out of

-his room and through the sleeping house.

-He would much rather have climbed out of

-the window, in a manner more worthy of such

-an adventure, but his return in that fashion

-might offer dangers in daylight. So he was

-content with an unfrequented garden door

-which he could leave on the latch.</p>

-<p>The moon, which had been young when

-she lighted the lovers in the mud-bank adventure,

-was now a more experienced orb and

-shed a useful light. Carnaby intended to

-cross the river in a small tub which was propelled

-by a single oar worked at the stern,

-the rower standing. This craft was intended

-for pottering about the shore; to cross the

-river in it was the dangerous feat of a skilled

-waterman, but Carnaby had a knack of his

-own with every floating thing. As he balanced

-himself in the rocking tub, bare-headed,

-bare-necked, bare-armed, paddling with the

-grace and ease of strength and training, he

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_280' name='page_280'></a>280</span>

-looked a man, but a man young with the

-youth of the gods. The moon shone in his

-keen grey eyes and made them sparkle. A

-cold sea-wind blew up the river, but he did

-not feel its chill, for blood hot with adventure

-raced in his veins.</p>

-<p>Wittisham was in profound darkness when

-he landed, and the moon having gone behind

-a bank of cloud, he had to grope his way to

-Mrs. Prettyman&rsquo;s cottage, shouldering the

-axe. The isolated position of the house alone

-made the adventure possible, he reflected;

-he could not have cut down a tree in the

-hearing of neighbours, and as to old Elizabeth

-herself, he hoped she was deaf. Most

-old women were, he reflected, except unfortunately

-his grandmother!</p>

-<p>Soon he was entering the little garden and

-sniffing the scent of blossom, which was very

-strong in the night air. He could see the

-dim outline of the plum tree, and just as he

-wanted light, the moon came out and shone

-upon its whiteness, giving a sort of spiritual

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_281' name='page_281'></a>281</span>

-beauty to the flowering thing that was very

-exquisite.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;What price, Waller R. A. now?&rdquo; thought

-Carnaby impishly. &ldquo;The plum tree in moonlight!

-eh? Wouldn&rsquo;t he give his eyes to see

-it! But he won&rsquo;t! Not if I know it!&rdquo; The

-boy was as blind to the tree&rsquo;s beauty as his

-grandmother had been, but he had scientific

-ideas how to cut it down, for he had

-watched the felling of many a tree.</p>

-<p>First, standing on a lower branch, you

-lopped off all the side shoots as high as you

-could reach. This made the trunk easy to deal

-with, and its fall less heavy, and Carnaby set

-to work.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;She goes through them all as slick as

-butter!&rdquo; he said to himself in high satisfaction.

-The axe had assumed a personality to

-him and was &ldquo;she,&rdquo; not &ldquo;it.&rdquo; &ldquo;She makes

-no more noise than a pair of scissors cutting

-flowers; not half so much!&rdquo; he said proudly.

-Branch after branch fell down and lay about

-the tree like the discarded garments of a bathing

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_282' name='page_282'></a>282</span>

-nymph. The petals fell upon Carnaby&rsquo;s

-face, upon his hair and shoulders; he was

-a white figure as he toiled. Frightened birds

-and bats flew about, but he did not notice

-them. His only care was the cottage itself

-and its inmate. If <i>she</i> should awake! But

-the little habitation, shrouded in thatch and

-deep in shadow, was dark and silent as the

-grave.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;She must be sound asleep and deaf,&rdquo;

-thought the boy. &ldquo;Yes, very deaf.&rdquo; He

-paused. The first stage in his task was accomplished.

-Shivering and naked, one absurd

-tuft of blossom and leaves at the tip&ndash;&ndash;the

-murdered tree now stood in the moonlight,

-imploring the <i>coup de gr&acirc;ce</i> which

-should end its shame.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Jolly well done,&rdquo; said the murderer complacently.

-He stretched his arms, looked at

-the palms of his hands to see if they had

-blistered, and addressed himself to the second

-part of his business. Thud! thud! went the

-axe on the trunk of the tree, and the sweat

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_283' name='page_283'></a>283</span>

-broke out all over Carnaby&rsquo;s skin, not with

-exertion but with nervous terror.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;If that doesn&rsquo;t wake the dead!&rdquo; he

-thought&ndash;&ndash;but there was no awaking in the

-cottage. Its tiny window blinked in the moonlight,

-and Carnaby thought he heard the

-drowsy quack of a duck in an out-house. But

-the danger passed. Thud! went the axe again.

-The slim severed shaft of the tree was poised

-a moment, motionless, erect before it fell.

-Then it subsided gently among its broken

-and trodden boughs, and Carnaby&rsquo;s task was

-done.</p>

-<hr class='toprule' />

-<div class='chsp'>

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_284' name='page_284'></a>284</span>

-<a name='XXII_CONSEQUENCES' id='XXII_CONSEQUENCES'></a>

-<h2>XXII</h2>

-<h3>CONSEQUENCES</h3>

-</div>

-<p>Early that morning before the sun had

-risen, when the light was still grey in the

-coming dawn, Robinette was awakened by a

-bird that called out from a tree close to her

-open window, every note like the striking

-of a golden bell. She jumped up and looked

-out, but the little singer, silenced, had flown

-away. Instead, she caught sight of a figure

-stealing across the lawn towards the side door

-which opened from the library. Even in the

-dim light she could distinguish that it was

-Carnaby, Carnaby with something in his

-hand. What he carried she could not quite

-make out, but the sleeves of his flannel shirt

-were rolled up above his elbows in a fatally

-business-like way, and he walked with an air

-of stealth.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;What mischief can that boy have been

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_285' name='page_285'></a>285</span>

-up to at this time of day?&rdquo; thought Robinette

-as she lay down again, but she was too

-sleepy to wonder long.</p>

-<p>She forgot all about it until she saw Carnaby

-at the breakfast table some hours later.

-Sometimes the gloom of that meal&ndash;&ndash;never

-a favorite or convivial one in the English

-household, and most certainly neither at

-Stoke Revel&ndash;&ndash;would be enlivened by some

-of the boy&rsquo;s pranks. He would pass over to

-the sideboard, pepper-pot slyly in hand, and

-Rupert, whose meal at this hour consisted of

-grape-nuts and cream, would unaccountably

-sneeze and snuffle over his plate.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Bless it, Bobs!&rdquo; his tormentor would

-exclaim tenderly. &ldquo;Is it catching cold? Poor

-old Kitchener! Hi! <i>Kitch!</i> <i>Kitch!</i>&rdquo; (like a

-violent sneeze) and the outraged Rupert

-would forget grape-nuts and pepper alike

-in a fit of impotent fury. But this morning

-the dog fed in peace and Carnaby never

-glanced at him or his basin. Robinette, looking

-at the boy and remembering where she

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_286' name='page_286'></a>286</span>

-had seen him last, noticed that he was rather

-silent, that his cheeks were redder than common,

-and that under his eyes were lines of

-fatigue not usually there.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;What were you doing on the lawn at

-four o&rsquo;clock this morning?&rdquo; she began, but

-checked herself, suddenly thinking that if

-Carnaby had been up to mischief she must

-not allude to it before his grandmother.</p>

-<p>No one had heard her. The meal dragged

-on. Robinette and Lavendar talked little.

-Miss Smeardon was preoccupied with the

-sufferings and the moods of Rupert. Mrs.

-de Tracy alone seemed in better spirits than

-usual; she was talkative and even balmy.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;The work at the spinney begins to-day,&rdquo;

-she observed complacently, addressing herself

-to Lavendar and alluding to the rooting

-up of an old copse and the planting of a

-new one&ndash;&ndash;an improvement she had long

-planned, though hitherto in vain. &ldquo;The

-young trees have arrived.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;But where is the money to come from?&rdquo;

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_287' name='page_287'></a>287</span>

-enquired Carnaby suddenly, in a sepulchral

-tone. (His voice was at the disagreeable

-breaking stage, an agony and a shame to

-himself and always a surprise to others.) His

-grandmother stared: the others, too, looked

-in astonishment at the boy&rsquo;s red face.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I thought it had all been explained to

-you, Carnaby,&rdquo; said Mrs. de Tracy, &ldquo;but

-you take so little interest in the estate that

-I suppose what you have been told went in

-at one ear and out at the other, as usual! It

-is the sale of land at Wittisham which makes

-these improvements possible, advantages

-drawn from a painful necessity,&rdquo; and the iron

-woman almost sighed.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;There won&rsquo;t be any sale of land at Wittisham,&ndash;&ndash;at

-least, not of Mrs. Prettyman&rsquo;s

-cottage,&rdquo; said Carnaby abruptly.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It is practically settled. The transfers

-only remain to be signed; you know that,

-Carnaby,&rdquo; said Lavendar curtly. He did not

-wish the vexed question to be raised again

-at a meal.</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_288' name='page_288'></a>288</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;It <i>was</i> practically settled&ndash;&ndash;but it&rsquo;s all

-off now,&rdquo; said the boy, looking hard at his

-grandmother. &ldquo;Waller R. A. won&rsquo;t want the

-place any more. The bloomin&rsquo; plum tree&rsquo;s

-gone&ndash;&ndash;cut down. The bargain&rsquo;s off, and

-old Mrs. Prettyman can stay on in her cottage

-as long as she likes!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>There was a freezing silence, broken only

-by the stertorous breathing of Rupert on Miss

-Smeardon&rsquo;s lap.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Repeat, please, what you have just said,

-Carnaby,&rdquo; said his grandmother with dangerous

-calmness, &ldquo;and speak distinctly.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I said that the cottage at Wittisham won&rsquo;t

-be sold because the plum tree&rsquo;s gone,&rdquo; repeated

-Carnaby doggedly. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s been cut

-down.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;How do you know?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve seen it.&rdquo; Carnaby raised his eyes.

-&ldquo;I cut it down myself,&rdquo; he added, &ldquo;this morning

-before daylight.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Who put such a thing into your head?&rdquo;

-Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s words were ice: her glance

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_289' name='page_289'></a>289</span>

-of suspicion at Robinette, like the cold thrust

-of steel. &ldquo;Who told you to cut the plum

-tree down?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;My conscience!&rdquo; was Carnaby&rsquo;s unexpected

-reply. He was as red as fire, but his

-glance did not falter. Mrs. de Tracy rose.

-Not a muscle of her face had moved.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Whatever your action has been, Carnaby,&rdquo;

-she said with dignity&ndash;&ndash;&ldquo;whether foolish and

-disgraceful, or criminal and dangerous, it

-cannot be discussed here. You will follow me

-at once to the library, and presently I may

-send for Mark. A lawyer&rsquo;s advice will probably

-be necessary,&rdquo; she added grimly.</p>

-<p>Carnaby said not a word. He opened the

-door for his grandmother and followed her

-out; but as he passed Robinette, he looked at

-her earnestly, half expecting her applause;

-for one of the motives in his boyish mind

-had certainly been to please her&ndash;&ndash;to shine

-in her eyes as the doer of bold deeds and to

-avenge her nurse&rsquo;s wrongs. And all that he

-had managed was to make her cry!</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_290' name='page_290'></a>290</span></div>

-<p>For Robinette had put her elbows on the

-table and had covered her eyes with her

-hands. As he left the room, Carnaby could

-hear her exclamation:&ndash;&ndash;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;To cut down that tree! That beautiful,

-beautiful, fruitful thing! O! how could anyone

-do it?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>So this was justice; this was all he got

-for his pains! How unaccountable women

-were!</p>

-<p>Lavendar awaited some time his summons to

-join Mrs. de Tracy and her grandson in what

-seemed to him must be a portentous interview

-enough, trying meanwhile somewhat unsuccessfully

-to console Mrs. Loring for the destruction

-of the plum tree, and exchanging

-with her somewhat awe-struck comments on

-the scene they had both just witnessed. No

-summons came, however; but half an hour

-later, he came across Carnaby alone, and

-an interview promptly ensued. He wanted to

-plumb the depth of the boy-mind and to learn

-exactly what motives had prompted Carnaby

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_291' name='page_291'></a>291</span>

-to this sudden and startling action in the

-matter of the plum tree.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Had you a bad quarter of an hour with

-your grandmother?&rdquo; was his first question.

-Carnaby, he thought, looked subdued, and

-not much wonder.</p>

-<p>The boy hesitated.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Not so bad as I expected,&rdquo; was his answer.

-&ldquo;The old lady was wonderfully decent, for

-her. She gave me a talking to, of course.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I should hope so!&rdquo; interpolated Lavendar

-drily.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;She jawed away about our poverty,&rdquo; continued

-Carnaby. &ldquo;She&rsquo;s got that on the brain,

-as you know. She said that this loss of the

-money&ndash;&ndash;Waller R. A.&rsquo;s money, she means,

-of course&ndash;&ndash;is an awful blow. She <i>said</i> it

-was, but it seemed to me&ndash;&ndash;&rdquo; Carnaby paused,

-looking extremely puzzled.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It seemed to you&ndash;&ndash;?&rdquo; prompted Lavendar

-encouragingly.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;That she wasn&rsquo;t so awfully cut up, after

-all,&rdquo; said Carnaby. &ldquo;She seemed putting it

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_292' name='page_292'></a>292</span>

-on, if you know what I mean.&rdquo; Lavendar

-pricked up his ears. Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s intense

-reluctance to sell the land recurred to him

-in a flash. To get her consent had been like

-drawing a tooth, like taking her life-blood

-drop by drop. Could it be that she was not

-very sorry after all that the scheme had

-fallen through, secretly glad, indeed? It was

-conceivable that this was Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s

-view, but her grandson&rsquo;s motive was still

-obscure.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Why did you do it, Carnaby?&rdquo; Lavendar

-asked with kindness and gravity both in

-his voice. &ldquo;You have committed a very

-mischievous action, you know, one that would

-have borne a harsher name had the transfers

-been signed and had the plum tree changed

-hands.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;But then I shouldn&rsquo;t have done it&ndash;&ndash;you&ndash;&ndash;you

-juggins, Mark!&rdquo; cried the boy.

-&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve no earthly grudge against Waller R. A.

-If he&rsquo;d actually bought the tree, it would

-have been too late, and his beastly money&ndash;&ndash;&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_293' name='page_293'></a>293</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;You need the money, you know,&rdquo; remarked

-Lavendar. &ldquo;Remember that, my

-young friend!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It would have been dirty money!&rdquo; said

-Carnaby, with a sudden flash that lit up his

-rather heavy face with a new expression.

-&ldquo;You and Cousin Robin have been jolly

-polite when you thought I was listening, but

-<i>I</i> know what you really thought, and the

-kind of things you were saying to one another

-about this business! You thought it

-beastly mean to take the cottage away from

-old Lizzie in the way it was being done, and

-sheer robbery to deprive her of the plum

-tree without paying her for it. I quite agreed

-with you there, and if I felt like that, do you

-think I could sit still and let the money come

-in to Stoke Revel&ndash;&ndash;money that had been

-got in such a way? What do you take me

-for?&rdquo; Lavendar was silent, looking at the

-boy in surprise. &ldquo;Oh,&rdquo; continued Carnaby,

-&ldquo;how I wish I were of age! Then I could

-show Cousin Robin, perhaps, what an English

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_294' name='page_294'></a>294</span>

-landlord can be! I mean that he can be

-a friend to his tenants, and kind and generous

-as well as just. As it is, Cousin Robin

-will go back to America and tell her friends

-what selfish brutes we are over here, and

-how jolly glad she was to get away!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Mrs. Loring will carry no tales, I am

-sure,&rdquo; said Lavendar. &ldquo;But tell me, my dear

-fellow, did you imagine that Mrs. Prettyman

-would be a gainer by your action?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Well, why not?&rdquo; answered the boy.

-&ldquo;Didn&rsquo;t you tell me yourself that Waller

-R. A. wouldn&rsquo;t look at the cottage without

-the tree? What&rsquo;s to prevent the old woman

-living on where she is? Do you think there&rsquo;ll

-be a rush of new tenants for that precious

-old hovel? Go on! You know better than

-that!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;But the tree, Carnaby, the plum tree!&rdquo;

-cried Lavendar. &ldquo;My young Goth, hadn&rsquo;t

-you a moment&rsquo;s compunction? That beautiful,

-flowering thing, as your cousin called it;

-could you destroy it without a pang?&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_295' name='page_295'></a>295</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;The <i>tree</i>?&rdquo; echoed Carnaby with unmeasured

-scorn. &ldquo;What&rsquo;s a tree? It&rsquo;s just

-a tree, isn&rsquo;t it?&rdquo;</p>

-<table summary=''><tr><td>

-<p class='cg'>&ldquo;A primrose by a river&rsquo;s brim<br />

-A yellow primrose was to him,<br />

-And it was nothing more!&rdquo;</p>

-</td></tr></table>

-<p>quoted Mark, despairingly.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Well; and what more did he expect of a

-primrose, whoever the Johnny was?&rdquo; asked

-the contemptuous Carnaby.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;At any rate,&rdquo; commented Lavendar, &ldquo;it

-isn&rsquo;t necessary to search as far as Peter Bell

-for an analogy for your character, my young

-friend! You are your grandmother&rsquo;s grandson

-after all!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;In some ways I suppose I can&rsquo;t help being,&rdquo;

-answered Carnaby soberly, &ldquo;but not

-in all,&rdquo; he added, and suddenly turning red

-he fumbled in his pocket and produced a coin

-which he held out to Lavendar. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s only

-ten bob,&rdquo; he said apologetically, &ldquo;and I wish

-it was a jolly sight more! But please give

-it to old Mrs. Prettyman to make up a bit

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_296' name='page_296'></a>296</span>

-for the loss of her plums. Daresay I&rsquo;ll manage

-some more by and by. Anyway, I&rsquo;ll

-make it up to her when I come of age.&ndash;&ndash;I&rsquo;m

-nearly sixteen already, you know. Be

-sure you tell her that!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>But Lavendar refused to take the money.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Mrs. Prettyman is provided for, my boy,&rdquo;

-he said. &ldquo;She has become your cousin&rsquo;s

-especial care. You need have no fear about

-that. The poor old woman is very happy and

-will have a cottage more suited for her rheumatism

-and her general feebleness than the

-present one. But I think your cousin will

-understand your motives and believe that

-you meant well by old Lizzie in your little

-piece of midnight madness.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Though I was a bit rough on the plum

-tree!&rdquo; said Carnaby, with a broad smile.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;You think it&rsquo;s a laughing matter?&rdquo;

-Lavendar asked indignantly. &ldquo;I wish you

-had my father to deal with, and Waller R. A.!

-It&rsquo;s all very well for you.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>But Carnaby only laughed. The blood was

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_297' name='page_297'></a>297</span>

-still hot in his veins, and the joy of his

-night&rsquo;s adventure. Mark told him that he

-and Mrs. Loring were crossing the river at

-once to see for themselves the extent of his

-mischief and what effect it had had upon

-old Mrs. Prettyman. Carnaby observed with

-diabolical meaning that as he had not been

-invited to join the party, he would make

-himself scarce. Gooseberries, he said, were

-very good fruit, but he wasn&rsquo;t fond of them;

-so he lounged off with his hands in his

-pockets. Suddenly he turned. &ldquo;See here, old

-Mark! You&rsquo;ll speak a word for me with

-Cousin Robin, won&rsquo;t you? It&rsquo;s hard on me

-to have her hate me when I was trying to do

-my best to please her.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;She won&rsquo;t hate you; she couldn&rsquo;t hate

-anybody,&rdquo; said Lavendar absently, watching

-first the door and then the window.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;You say that because you&rsquo;re in love with

-her! I&rsquo;ve a couple of eyes in my head,

-stupid as you all think me. You can deny it

-all you like, but you won&rsquo;t convince me!&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_298' name='page_298'></a>298</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;I shan&rsquo;t deny it, Carnaby. I am so much

-in love with her at this moment that the

-room is whirling round and round and I can

-see two of you!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Poor old Mark! Do you think she&rsquo;ll

-take you on?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Can&rsquo;t say, Carnaby!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;You&rsquo;re a lucky beggar if she does; that&rsquo;s

-my opinion!&rdquo; said the boy.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Put it as strong as you like, Carnaby,&rdquo;

-Lavendar answered. &ldquo;You can&rsquo;t exaggerate

-my feelings on that subject!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;If you hadn&rsquo;t fifteen years&rsquo; start of me

-I&rsquo;d give you a run for your money!&rdquo; exclaimed

-Carnaby with a daring look.</p>

-<hr class='toprule' />

-<div class='chsp'>

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_299' name='page_299'></a>299</span>

-<a name='XXIII_DEATH_AND_LIFE' id='XXIII_DEATH_AND_LIFE'></a>

-<h2>XXIII</h2>

-<h3>DEATH AND LIFE</h3>

-</div>

-<p>While these incidents were taking place

-at the Manor House, village life at Wittisham

-had been stirring for hours. Thin blue

-threads of smoke were rising from the other

-cottages into the windless air: only from

-Nurse Prettyman&rsquo;s there was none. Duckie

-in the out-house quacked and gabbled as she

-had quacked and gabbled since the light

-began, yet no one came to let her out and

-feed her. The halfpenny jug of milk had been

-placed on the doorstep long ago, but Mrs.

-Prettyman had not yet opened the door to

-take it in.</p>

-<p>Outside in the garden, where the plum tree

-stood yesterday, there was now only a stump,

-hacked and denuded, and round about it a

-ruin of broken branches, leaves, and scattered

-blossoms. Over the wreck the bees were busy

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_300' name='page_300'></a>300</span>

-still, taking what they could of the honey

-that remained; and in the air was the strong

-odour of juicy green wood and torn bark.</p>

-<p>The children who brought the milk were

-the first to discover what had happened, and

-very soon the news spread amongst the other

-cottagers. Then came two neighbours to the

-scene, wondering and exclaiming. They went

-to the door, but Mrs. Prettyman did not answer

-their knock or their calling. Mrs. Darke

-looked in through the tiny window.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;She be sleepin&rsquo; that peaceful in &rsquo;er bed

-in there,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;it &rsquo;ud be a shame to

-wake &rsquo;er. She&rsquo;s deaf now, and belike she

-never &rsquo;eard the tree come down, &rsquo;ooever&rsquo;s

-done it. But I&rsquo;ll go and see after Duckie:

-she&rsquo;s makin&rsquo; noise enough to rouse &rsquo;er, anyway.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Then Duckie was released and fed and departed

-to gabble her wrongs to the other

-white ducks that were preening themselves

-amongst the deep green grass of the adjacent

-orchard.</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_301' name='page_301'></a>301</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;You can &rsquo;ear that bird a mile away&ndash;&ndash;she&rsquo;s

-never done talking!&rdquo; said Mrs. Darke

-as the indignant gabble grew fainter in the

-distance. &ldquo;But &rsquo;ere&rsquo;s my old man a-come to

-look at the plum tree. Wonder what he&rsquo;ll

-say to it? This be a queer job, sure enough!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Old Darke, on two sticks, hobbled towards

-the scene of desolation with grunts of mingled

-satisfaction and dismay. &rsquo;Twas a rare sensation,

-though a pity, to be sure!</p>

-<p>Mrs. Darke stood by the well at the turn

-of the road, keeping a sharp eye on the cottage

-while she gossiped with the neighbour

-who was filling her pitcher. She did not want

-to miss the sight of Mrs. Prettyman&rsquo;s face

-when she opened her door and found out

-what had happened.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;She be sleepin&rsquo; too long; I&rsquo;ll go and

-waken her in a minute,&rdquo; said Mrs. Darke.

-&ldquo;&rsquo;Tis but right she should be told what&rsquo;s

-come to &rsquo;er tree, poor thing.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Then a beggar woman selling bootlaces

-came along the shore of the river; she

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_302' name='page_302'></a>302</span>

-mounted the cottage steps and the gossips

-watched her trailing up the pathway in her

-loose old shoes, and knocking at the door.

-She waited for a few minutes: there was no

-answer, so she turned away resignedly and

-trailed off along the sun-lit lane, in-shore,

-leaving the garden gate swinging to and

-fro.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;There&rsquo;s summat the matter!&rdquo; Mrs. Darke

-had just whispered with evident enjoyment,

-when some one else was seen approaching

-the cottage from the direction of the pier.

-It was the young lady from the Manor, this

-time. She wore a white dress and a green

-scarf, and her face was tinted with colour.

-She looked like a young blossoming tree herself,

-all lacy white and pale green, a strange

-morning vision in a work-a-day world! Robinette

-ran quickly up the pathway and knocked

-at the door, but there was no answer to her

-knock. She called out in her clear voice:&ndash;&ndash;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Good morning, Nurse! Good morning!

-Aren&rsquo;t you ready to let me in? It&rsquo;s quite

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_303' name='page_303'></a>303</span>

-late!&rdquo; But there was no answer to her

-call. She was just trying to open the door,

-which seemed to be locked, when a gentleman

-came up from the boat and followed her to

-the cottage. That, the women who were watching

-her thought quite natural, for surely such

-a young lady would be followed by a lover

-wherever she went! Indeed, Mrs. Darke said

-so.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;&rsquo;Tis in that there kind,&rdquo; she observed

-philosophically, &ldquo;like the cuckoo and the

-bird that follows; never sees one wi&rsquo;out the

-other!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;&rsquo;Tis quite that way, Mrs. Darke,&rdquo; agreed

-the neighbour, approvingly.</p>

-<p>Robinette turned a white face to Lavendar

-as he approached.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Nurse won&rsquo;t answer, and I can&rsquo;t get in!&rdquo;

-she cried. &ldquo;Something must have happened.

-I&ndash;&ndash;I&rsquo;m afraid to go in alone. The door is

-locked, too.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s not locked,&rdquo; said Lavendar, and exerting

-a little strength, he pushed it open and

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_304' name='page_304'></a>304</span>

-gave a quick glance inside. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll go in first,&rdquo;

-he said gently. &ldquo;Wait here.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>He came again to the threshold in a few

-minutes, a peculiar expression on his face

-which somehow seemed to tell Robinette

-what had happened.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Come in, Mrs. Robin,&rdquo; he said very

-gravely and gently. &ldquo;You need not be afraid.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Robinette instinctively held out her hand

-to him and they entered the little room together.</p>

-<p>She need not have feared for the old woman&rsquo;s

-distress over the ruined plum tree, for

-nothing would ever grieve Nurse Prettyman

-again. Just as she had lain down the

-night before, she lay upon her bed now, having

-passed away in her sleep. &ldquo;And they that

-encounter Death in sleep,&rdquo; says the old writer,

-&ldquo;go forth to meet him with desire.&rdquo; The

-aged face was turned slightly upwards and

-wore a look of contentment and repose that

-made life seem almost gaudy; a cheap thing

-to compare with this attainment....</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_305' name='page_305'></a>305</span></div>

-<p>Robinette came out of the cottage a little

-later, leaving the neighbours who had gathered

-in the room to their familiar and not

-uncongenial duties. She went into the garden,

-where Mark Lavendar awaited her. He

-longed to try to comfort her; indeed, his

-whole heart ran out to her in a warmth and

-passion that astounded him; but her pale

-face, stained with weeping, warned him to

-keep silence yet a little while.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I just came for one branch of the blossom,&rdquo;

-Robinette said, &ldquo;if it is not all withered.

-Yes, this is quite fresh still.&rdquo; She

-took a little spray he had found for her and

-stood holding it as she spoke. &ldquo;Only yesterday

-it was all so lovely! Oh! Mr. Lavendar,

-I needn&rsquo;t cry for my old Nurse, I&rsquo;m

-sure! How should I, after seeing her face?

-She had come to the end of her long life,

-and she was very tired, and now all that

-is forgotten, and she will never have a moment

-of vexation about her tree. I don&rsquo;t

-know why I should cry for her; but oh,

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_306' name='page_306'></a>306</span>

-how could Carnaby destroy that beautiful

-thing!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It was a genuine though mistaken act

-of conscience! You must not be too hard

-on Carnaby!&rdquo; pleaded Lavendar. &ldquo;He would

-not touch the money that was to come from

-the sale of Mrs. Prettyman&rsquo;s cottage under

-the circumstances, so it seemed best to him

-that the sale should not take place, and he

-prevented it in the directest and simplest way

-that occurred to him. It&rsquo;s like some of the

-things that men have done to please God,

-Mrs. Robin,&rdquo; Mark added, smiling, &ldquo;and

-thought they were doing it, too! But Carnaby

-only wanted to please you!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;To <i>please</i> me!&rdquo; exclaimed Robinette,

-looking round her at the ruin before them.

-&ldquo;Oh dear!&rdquo; she sighed, &ldquo;how confusing the

-world is, at times! I am just going to take

-this snowy branch and lay it on Nurse&rsquo;s pillow.

-She so loved her tree! See; it&rsquo;s quite

-fresh and beautiful, and the dew still upon it,

-just like tears!&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_307' name='page_307'></a>307</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;That seemed just right,&rdquo; said Robinette

-softly as she came out into the sunshine again,

-a few minutes later. &ldquo;I laid the blossoms in

-her kind old tired hands, the hands that have

-known so much work and so many pains. It

-is over, and after all, her new home is better

-than any I could have found for her!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>The two walked slowly down the little

-garden on their way to the gate. As they

-passed, old Mr. Darke, who had hobbled

-around again to have another look at the

-fallen tree, addressed Lavendar solemnly.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Best tree in Wittisham &rsquo;e was, sir,&rdquo;

-touching the ruin of the branches as he

-spoke. &ldquo;&rsquo;Ooever could ha&rsquo; thought o&rsquo; sich a

-piece of wickedness as to cut &rsquo;im down?

-Murder, I calls it! &rsquo;Tis well as Mrs. Prettyman

-be gone to &rsquo;er rest wi&rsquo;out knowledge of

-it; &rsquo;twould &rsquo;ave broken her old &rsquo;eart, for

-certain sure!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It nearly breaks mine to see it now, Mr.

-Darke!&rdquo; said Robinette in a trembling voice.

-But the old labourer bent down, moving

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_308' name='page_308'></a>308</span>

-his creaking joints with difficulty and

-steadying himself upon his sticks till he

-could touch the stump of the tree with his

-rough but skilful hands. He pushed away

-the long grass that grew about the roots and

-looked up at Robinette with a wise old smile.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;&rsquo;Tisn&rsquo;t dead and done for yet, Missy,

-never fear!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Give &rsquo;im time; give

-&rsquo;im time! &rsquo;E&rsquo;s cut above the graft&ndash;&ndash;see!

-&rsquo;E&rsquo;ll grow and shoot and bear blossom and

-fruit same as ever &rsquo;e did, given time. See to

-the fine stock of &rsquo;im; firm as a rock in the

-good ground! And the roots, they be sound

-and fresh. &rsquo;E&rsquo;ll grow again, Missy; never

-you cry!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Robinette looked so beautiful as she lifted

-her luminous eyes and parted lips to old

-Darke, and then turned to him with a

-gesture of hope and joy, that again Lavendar

-could hardly keep from avowing his love;

-but the remembrance of the old nurse&rsquo;s still

-shape in the little cottage hushed the words

-that trembled on his lips.</p>

-<hr class='toprule' />

-<div class='chsp'>

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_309' name='page_309'></a>309</span>

-<a name='XXIV_GRANDMOTHER_AND_GRANDSON' id='XXIV_GRANDMOTHER_AND_GRANDSON'></a>

-<h2>XXIV</h2>

-<h3>GRANDMOTHER AND GRANDSON</h3>

-</div>

-<p>The disagreeable duty of announcing Mrs.

-Prettyman&rsquo;s death to the lady of the Manor

-now lay before Lavendar and his companion,

-and the thought of it weighed upon their

-spirits as they crossed the river. Carnaby

-also must be told. How would he take it?

-Robinette, still under the shock of the plum

-tree&rsquo;s undoing, expected perhaps some further

-exhibition of youthful callousness, but

-Lavendar knew better.</p>

-<p>In their concern and sorrow, the young

-couple had forgotten all minor matters such

-as meals, and luncheon had long been over

-when they reached the house. They could

-see Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s figure in the drawing

-room as they passed the windows, occupying

-exactly her usual seat in her usual attitude.

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_310' name='page_310'></a>310</span>

-It was her hour for reading and disapproving

-of the daily paper.</p>

-<p>Robinette and Lavendar entered quietly,

-but nothing in the gravity of their faces

-struck Mrs. de Tracy as strange.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I have a disturbing piece of news to give

-you,&rdquo; Mark began, clearing his throat.

-&ldquo;Mrs. Prettyman died last night in her cottage

-at Wittisham.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>The erect figure in the widow&rsquo;s weeds remained

-motionless. Perhaps the old hand

-that lowered the newspaper trembled somewhat,

-so that its diamonds quivered a little

-more than usual.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;So Mrs. Prettyman is dead?&rdquo; she said.

-Then, as the young people stood looking at

-her with an air of some expectancy, she

-added with a sour glance, &ldquo;Do you expect

-me to be very much agitated by the

-news?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;The death was unexpected,&rdquo; began Lavendar

-lamely.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;She was seventy-five; my age!&rdquo; said

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_311' name='page_311'></a>311</span>

-Mrs. de Tracy with a wintry smile. &ldquo;Is death

-at seventy-five so unexpected an event?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Lavendar said nothing; he had nothing to

-say, and Robinette for the same reason was

-silent. She was gazing at her aunt, almost

-unconsciously, with a wondering look. &ldquo;At

-any rate,&rdquo; continued Mrs. de Tracy, addressing

-her niece, &ldquo;your <i>prot&eacute;g&eacute;e</i> has been fortunate

-in two ways, Robinette. She will

-neither be turned out of her cottage nor

-see the destruction of her plum tree. By the

-way&ndash;&ndash;&rdquo; with a perfectly natural change of

-tone, dismissing at once both Mrs. Prettyman

-and Death&ndash;&ndash;&ldquo;the plum tree <i>is</i> down, I suppose?

-You saw it?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Very much down!&rdquo; answered Lavendar.

-&ldquo;And certainly we saw it! Carnaby does

-nothing by halves!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>A slight change, a kind of shade of softening,

-passed over Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s stern

-features, as the shadow of a summer cloud

-may pass over a rocky hill. She turned suddenly

-to Robinette. &ldquo;Can you tell me on

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_312' name='page_312'></a>312</span>

-your word of honour that you had nothing

-to do with Carnaby&rsquo;s action; that you did

-not put it into his head to cut the plum tree

-down!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I?&rdquo; exclaimed Robinette, scarlet with

-indignation. &ldquo;<i>I?</i> Why&ndash;&ndash;do you want to

-know what I think of the action? I think it

-was perfectly brutal, and the boy who did it

-next door to a criminal! There!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Mrs. de Tracy seemed convinced by the

-energy of this disclaimer. &ldquo;I have always

-considered yours a very candid character,&rdquo;

-she observed with condescension. &ldquo;I believe

-you when you say that you did not influence

-Carnaby in the matter, though I strongly

-suspected you before.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Well, upon my word!&rdquo; ejaculated Robinette

-when they had got out of the room, too

-completely baffled to be more original. &ldquo;What

-does she mean? Has any one ever understood

-the workings of Aunt de Tracy&rsquo;s mind?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t come to me for any more explanations!

-I&rsquo;ve done my best for my client!&rdquo;

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_313' name='page_313'></a>313</span>

-cried Lavendar. &ldquo;I give up my brief! I always

-told you Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s character was

-entirely singular.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Let us hope so!&rdquo; commented Robinette

-with energy. &ldquo;I should be sorry for the world

-if it were plural!&rdquo;</p>

-<hr class='tb' />

-<p>Carnaby was not in the house, and Lavendar

-proceeded to look for him out of doors.

-He knew the boy was often to be found in a

-high part of the grounds behind the garden,

-where he had some special resort of his own,

-and he went there first. The afternoon had

-clouded over, and a slight shower was falling,

-as Mark followed the wooded path leading

-up hill. A rock-garden bordered it, where

-ferns and flowers were growing, each one of

-which seemed to be contributing some special

-and delicate fragrance to the damp, warm

-air. The beech trees here had low and spreading

-branches which framed now and again

-exquisite glimpses of the river far below and

-the wooded hills beyond it.</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_314' name='page_314'></a>314</span></div>

-<p>Lavendar had not gone far when he found

-Carnaby, Carnaby intensely perturbed, walking

-up and down by himself.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;You don&rsquo;t need to tell me!&rdquo; said the

-boy, with a quick and agitated gesture of

-the hand. &ldquo;Bates told me. Old Mrs. Prettyman&rsquo;s

-dead!&rdquo; His merry, square-set face was

-changed and looked actually haggard, and

-his eyes searched Lavendar&rsquo;s with an expression

-oddly different from their usual fearless

-and straightforward one. They seemed

-afraid. &ldquo;Was it my grandmother&rsquo;s&ndash;&ndash;was it

-our fault?&rdquo; he asked. &ldquo;I, I feel like a murderer.

-Upon my soul, I do!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t encourage morbid ideas, my dear

-fellow!&rdquo; said Lavendar in a matter-of-fact

-tone. &ldquo;There&rsquo;s trouble enough in the world

-without foolish exaggeration. Mrs. Prettyman

-was &lsquo;grave-ripe,&rsquo; as she often said to

-your cousin; a very feeble old woman, whose

-time had come. The doctor&rsquo;s certificate will

-tell you how rheumatism had affected her

-heart, and the neighbours would very soon

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_315' name='page_315'></a>315</span>

-set your mind at rest by describing the number

-of times poor old Lizzie had nearly died

-before.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Think of it, though!&rdquo; said Carnaby

-with wondering eyes. &ldquo;Think of her lying

-dead in the cottage while I hacked and hewed

-at the plum tree just outside! By Jove! it

-makes a fellow feel queer!&rdquo; He shuddered.

-The picture he evoked was certainly a strange

-one enough: a strange picture in the moonlight

-of a night in spring; the doomed

-beauty of the blossoming tree, the blind,

-headstrong human energy working for its

-destruction, and Death over all, stealthy and

-strong!</p>

-<p>&ldquo;What an ass I was!&rdquo; said Carnaby,

-summing up the situation in the only language

-in which he could express himself.

-&ldquo;Sweating and stewing and hacking away&ndash;&ndash;thinking

-myself so awfully clever! And all

-the time things ... things were being arranged

-in quite a different manner!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;We are often made to feel our insignificance

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_316' name='page_316'></a>316</span>

-in ways like this,&rdquo; said Lavendar. &ldquo;We

-are very small atoms, Carnaby, in the path

-of the great forces that sweep us on.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I should rather think so!&rdquo; assented the

-wondering boy. &ldquo;And yet, can a fellow sit

-tight all the time and just wait till things

-happen?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Ask me something else!&rdquo; suggested

-Lavendar ironically.</p>

-<p>There was a short pause. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m awfully

-sorry old Mrs. Prettyman&rsquo;s dead,&rdquo; Carnaby

-said in a very subdued tone. &ldquo;I meant to

-do a lot for her, to try and make up for

-my grandmother&rsquo;s being such a beast.&rdquo; He

-stopped short, and to Lavendar&rsquo;s astonishment,

-his face worked, and two tears

-squeezed themselves out of his eyes and rolled

-over his round cheeks as they might have

-done over a baby&rsquo;s. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s the j-jam I was

-thinking of,&rdquo; he sniffed. &ldquo;Once a pal of

-mine and I were playing the fool in old Mrs.

-Prettyman&rsquo;s garden, pretending to steal the

-plums, and giving her duck bits of bread

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_317' name='page_317'></a>317</span>

-steeped in beer to make it s-squiffy (a duck

-can be just as drunk as a chap). She didn&rsquo;t

-mind a bit. She was a regular old brick, and

-gave us a jolly good tea and a pot of jam to

-take away.... And now she&rsquo;s dead and&ndash;&ndash;and....&rdquo;

-Carnaby&rsquo;s feelings became too

-much for him again, and a handkerchief

-that had seen better and much cleaner days

-came into play. Lavendar flung an arm round

-the boy&rsquo;s shoulder.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;This kind of regret comes to us all, Carnaby,&rdquo;

-he said. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t suppose there&rsquo;s a

-man with a heart in his breast who hasn&rsquo;t

-sometime had to say to himself, I might

-have done better: I might have been kinder:

-it&rsquo;s too late now! But it&rsquo;s never too late!&rdquo;

-added Lavendar under his breath&ndash;&ndash;&ldquo;not

-where Love is!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>The shower was over, and though the sun

-had not come out, a pleasant light lay upon

-the river as the friends walked down; upon

-the river beyond which old Lizzie Prettyman

-was sleeping so peacefully, the sleep of kings

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_318' name='page_318'></a>318</span>

-and beggars, and just and unjust, and rich

-and poor alike. Carnaby had dried his eyes

-but continued in a pensive mood.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Cousin Robin&rsquo;s still angry with me about

-the tree,&rdquo; he said, uncertainly.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;She won&rsquo;t be angry long!&rdquo; Lavendar

-assured him. &ldquo;You and your Cousin Robin

-are going to be firm friends, friends for

-life.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Carnaby seemed a good deal comforted.

-&ldquo;Mind you don&rsquo;t tell her I blubbered!&rdquo; he

-said in sudden alarm. &ldquo;Swear!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;She wouldn&rsquo;t think a bit the worse of

-you for that!&rdquo; said Lavendar.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Swear, though!&rdquo; repeated Carnaby in

-deadly earnest.</p>

-<p>And Lavendar swore, of course.</p>

-<hr class='tb' />

-<p>But an influence very unlike Lavendar&rsquo;s

-and a spirit very different from Robinette&rsquo;s

-enfolded Carnaby de Tracy in his home and

-fought, as it were, for his soul. That night,

-after the last lamp had been put out by the

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_319' name='page_319'></a>319</span>

-careful Bates, and after Benson had bade a

-respectful good-night to her mistress, a light

-still burned in Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s room. Presently,

-carried in her hand, it flitted out along

-the silent passages, past rows of doors which

-were closed upon empty rooms or upon unconscious

-sleepers, till it came to Carnaby&rsquo;s

-door; to the Boys&rsquo; Room, as that far-away

-and most unluxurious apartment had always

-been called. Mrs. de Tracy was making a

-pilgrimage to the shrine of one of her

-gods. She opened the door, and closing it

-gently behind her, she stood beside Carnaby&rsquo;s

-bed and looked at him, intently and haggardly.</p>

-<p>Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s was a singular character,

-as Mark Lavendar had said. The circumstances

-of her widowhood with its heavy responsibilities

-had perhaps hardly been fair

-to her. There had been little room for the

-kindlier and softer feelings, though it is to

-be feared that they would not have found

-much congenial soil in her heart. The personal

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_320' name='page_320'></a>320</span>

-selfishness in her had long been merged

-in the greater and harder selfishness of caste;

-she had become a mere machine for the keeping

-up of Stoke Revel.</p>

-<p>But to-night she was moved by the positively

-human sentiment which had been

-stirred in her by Carnaby&rsquo;s startling act of

-cutting the plum tree down. Ah! let fools

-believe if they could that she was angry with

-the boy! She had never felt anger less or

-pride more. While others talked and argued,

-shilly-shallied, made love, muddled and made

-mistakes, her grandson, the man of the

-race that always ruled, had cut the knot

-for himself, without hesitation and without

-compunction, without consulting anyone or

-asking anyone&rsquo;s leave. That was the way

-the de Tracys had always acted. And it

-seemed to Mrs. de Tracy a crowning coincidence,

-a fitting kind of poetical justice,

-that Carnaby&rsquo;s action should actually have

-prevented the sale of the land; that dreaded,

-detestable sale of the first land that the

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_321' name='page_321'></a>321</span>

-de Tracys had held upon the banks of the

-river.</p>

-<p>So, since Carnaby was to be a man of the

-right kind, his grandmother had come to

-look at him, not in love, as other women come

-to such bedsides, but in pride of heart. The

-boy, after his &ldquo;white night&rdquo; at Wittisham

-and the varied emotions of the succeeding

-day, lay on his side, in the deep, recuperative

-sleep of youth whence its energies are drawn

-and in which its vigors are renewed. His

-round cheek indented the pillow, his rumpled

-hair stirred in the breeze that blew in

-at the window, his arm and his open hand,

-relaxed, lay along the sheet. Another woman

-would have straightened the bed-clothes

-above him; another might have touched his

-hair or hand; another kissed his cheek. But

-not even because he was like her departed

-husband, like the man who five and fifty

-years before had courted a certain cold and

-proud, handsome and penniless Miss Augusta

-Gallup, would Mrs. de Tracy do these

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_322' name='page_322'></a>322</span>

-things. She had had her sensation, such as

-it was, her secret moment of emotion, and

-was satisfied. She left the room as she

-had come, the candle casting exaggerated

-shadows of herself upon the walls where

-Carnaby&rsquo;s bats and fishing rods and sporting

-prints hung.</p>

-<p>It is sad to be old as Mrs. de Tracy

-was old, but her age was of her own making,

-a shrinkage of the heart, a drying up

-of the wells of feeling that need not have

-been.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I should be better out of the way,&rdquo; her

-bitterness said within her, and alas! it was

-true. Her great, gaunt room seemed very

-lonely, very full of shadows when she returned

-to it. Rupert, who always slept at

-her bedside, awaited her. Disturbed at this

-unwonted hour, he stirred in his basket,

-wheezed and gurgled, turned round and

-round and could not get comfortable, whined,

-and looked up in his mistress&rsquo;s face. She stood

-watching him with a sort of grim pity, and,

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_323' name='page_323'></a>323</span>

-strangely enough, bestowed upon him the

-caress she had not found for her grandson.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Poor Rupert! You are getting too old,

-like your mistress! Your departure, like hers,

-will be a sorrow to no one!&rdquo; Rupert seemed

-to wheeze an asthmatical consent, and presently

-he snuggled down in his basket and

-went to sleep.</p>

-<hr class='toprule' />

-<div class='chsp'>

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_324' name='page_324'></a>324</span>

-<a name='XXV_THE_BELLS_OF_STOKE_REVEL' id='XXV_THE_BELLS_OF_STOKE_REVEL'></a>

-<h2>XXV</h2>

-<h3>THE BELLS OF STOKE REVEL</h3>

-</div>

-<p>On Sunday morning Robinette and Lavendar

-were both ready for church, by some

-strange coincidence, half an hour too soon.

-He was standing at the door as she came down

-into the hall. Mrs. de Tracy and Miss Smeardon

-were nowhere to be seen; even Carnaby

-was invisible, but the shrill, infuriated yelping

-of the Prince Charles from the drawing

-room indicated his whereabouts only too

-plainly.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;We&rsquo;re much too early,&rdquo; said Robinette,

-glancing at the clock.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Shall we walk through the buttercup

-meadow, then&ndash;&ndash;you and I?&rdquo; asked Lavendar.

-His voice was low, and Robinette answered

-very softly. She wore a white dress that

-morning without a touch of colour.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I couldn&rsquo;t wear black to-day for Nurse,&rdquo;

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_325' name='page_325'></a>325</span>

-she said, in answer to his glance, &ldquo;but I

-couldn&rsquo;t wear any colour, either.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;You&rsquo;re as white as the plum tree was!&rdquo;

-said Lavendar. &ldquo;I remember thinking that

-it looked like a bride.&rdquo; Robinette made no

-reply. He ventured to look up at her as he

-spoke, and she was smiling although her lip

-quivered and her eyes were full of tears.

-Lavendar&rsquo;s heart beat uncomfortably fast as

-they walked through the meadow towards

-the stile which led into the churchyard.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s too soon to go in yet,&rdquo; he said.

-&ldquo;The bells haven&rsquo;t begun.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Let&rsquo;s stop here. It&rsquo;s cool in the shadow,&rdquo;

-said Robinette. She leaned on the wall and

-looked out at the shining reaches of the river.

-&ldquo;The swelling of Jordan is over now,&rdquo; she

-said with a little smile and a sigh. &ldquo;The tide

-has come up, and how quiet everything is!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>The water mirrored the hills and the ships

-and the gracious sky above them. There was

-scarcely a sound in the air. At the point

-where they stood, the Manor House was

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_326' name='page_326'></a>326</span>

-hidden from view, and only the squat old

-tower of the church was visible, and the yew

-tree rising above the wall against the golden

-field. A bush of briar covered with white roses

-hung above them, just behind Robinette, and

-Lavendar looking at her in this English setting

-on an English Sunday morning, wondered

-to himself, as he had so often done before, if

-she could ever make this country her home.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Yet she has English blood as well as I,&rdquo;

-he thought. &ldquo;Why, the very name on the

-old bells of the church there, records the

-memory of an ancestress of hers! We cannot

-be so far apart.&rdquo; Looking at her standing

-there, he rehearsed to himself all that he

-meant to say, oh, a great many things both

-true and eloquent, but at that moment every

-word forsook him. Yet this was probably the

-best opportunity he would have of telling her

-what was burning in his heart: telling her

-how she had beguiled him at first by her

-quick understanding and her frolicsome wit,

-because all that sort of thing was so new to

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_327' name='page_327'></a>327</span>

-him. She had come like a mountain spring

-to a thirsty man. He had been groping for

-inspiration and for help: now he seemed to

-find them all in her. She was so much more

-than charming, though it was her charm that

-first impressed him; so much more than

-pretty, though her face attracted him at

-first; so much more than magnetic, though

-she drew him to her at their first meeting with

-bonds as delicate as they were strong. These

-were tangible, vital, legitimate qualities&ndash;&ndash;but

-were they all? Could lips part so, could

-eyes shine so, could voice tremble so, if there

-were not something underneath; a good

-heart, fidelity, warmth of nature?</p>

-<p>&ldquo;For the first time,&rdquo; he thought, &ldquo;I long

-to be worthy of a woman. But I would not

-tell her how I love her at this moment, unless

-I felt I need not be wholly unequal to her

-demands. I have never desired anything

-strongly enough to struggle for it, up to now;

-but she has set my springs in motion, and I

-can work for her until I die!&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_328' name='page_328'></a>328</span></div>

-<p>All this he thought, but never a word

-he said. Then the church clock struck and

-the clashing bells began. They shook the air,

-the earth, the ancient stones, the very nests

-upon the trees, and sent the rooks flying

-black as ink against the yellow buttercups

-in the meadow.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;We must go, in a few minutes,&rdquo; said

-Robinette. &ldquo;Oh, will you pull me some of

-those white roses up there?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Lavendar swung himself up and drawing

-down a bunch he pulled off two white buds.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Will you take them?&rdquo; he asked, holding

-them out to her. Then suddenly he said, very

-low and very humbly, &ldquo;Oh, take me too;

-take me, Robinette, though no man was ever

-so unworthy!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Robinette laid the roses on the wall beside

-her.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;For my part,&rdquo; she said, turning to Lavendar

-with a little laugh that was half a sob;

-&ldquo;for my part, I like giving better than taking!&rdquo;

-She put both her hands in his and

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_329' name='page_329'></a>329</span>

-looked into his face. &ldquo;Here is my life,&rdquo; she

-said simply. &ldquo;I want to belong to you, to help

-you, to live by your side.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I oughtn&rsquo;t to take you at your word,&rdquo;

-he said, his voice choked with emotion. &ldquo;You

-are far too good for me!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Hush,&rdquo; Robinetta answered, putting a

-finger on his lip; &ldquo;it isn&rsquo;t a question of how

-great you are or how wonderful: it&rsquo;s a question

-of what we can be to each other. I&rsquo;d

-rather have you than the Duke of Wellington

-or Marcus Aurelius, and I believe you

-wouldn&rsquo;t change me for Helen of Troy!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I have nothing to bring you, nothing,&rdquo;

-said Lavendar again, &ldquo;nothing but my love

-and my whole heart.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;If all the kingdoms of the earth were

-offered to me instead, I would still take you

-and what you give me,&rdquo; Robinette answered.</p>

-<p>Lavendar laid his cheek against her bright

-hair and sighed deeply. In that sigh there

-passed away all former things, and behold,

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_330' name='page_330'></a>330</span>

-all things became new. Two cuckoos answered

-each other from opposite banks of

-the river and two hearts sang songs of joy

-that met and mingled and floated upward.</p>

-<p>Again the bells broke out overhead, filling

-the air with music that had rung from them

-ever since just such another morning hundreds

-of years before, when they rang their

-first peal from the church tower, bearing the

-legend newly cut upon them: &ldquo;Pray for

-the Soul of Anne de Tracy, 1538.&rdquo; And

-Anne de Tracy&rsquo;s memory was forgotten&ndash;&ndash;so

-long forgotten&ndash;&ndash;except for the bells that

-carried her name!</p>

-<p>Yet in these same meadows that she must

-have known, spring was come once more.

-The Devonshire plum trees had budded and

-blossomed and shed their petals year after

-year, and year after year, since the bells first

-swung in the air; and now Hope was born

-once again, and Youth, and Love, which is

-immortal!</p>

-<hr class='pb' />

-<p class='tp' >The Riverside Press</p>

-<p class='tp' style='font-size:smaller;'>CAMBRIDGE&nbsp;.&nbsp;MASSACHUSETTS</p>

-<p class='tp' style='font-size:smaller;'>U&nbsp;.&nbsp;S&nbsp;.&nbsp;A</p>

-<hr class='b' />

-<hr class='d' />

-<p style='font-size:1.4em; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;'>REBECCA<br /><span style='font-size:smaller'>of SUNNYBROOK FARM</span></p>

-<hr class='s' />

-<p style='text-align:right; font-size:1.2em;  margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;'>By KATE DOUGLAS WIGGIN</p>

-<hr class='d' />

-<p>&ldquo;Of all the children of Mrs. Wiggin&rsquo;s brain, the most

-laughable and the most lovable is Rebecca.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>Life, N. Y.</i></p>

-<p>&ldquo;Rebecca creeps right into one&rsquo;s affections and stays

-there.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>Philadelphia Item.</i></p>

-<p>&ldquo;A character that is irresistible in her quaint, humorous

-originality.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>Cleveland Leader.</i></p>

-<p>&ldquo;Rebecca is as refreshing as a draught of spring

-water.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>Los Angeles Times.</i></p>

-<p>&ldquo;Rebecca has come to stay with one for all time, and

-delight one perpetually, like Marjorie Fleming.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>Literary World, Boston.</i></p>

-<hr class='s' />

-<p style='text-align:left'>With decorative cover</p>

-<p style='text-align:right'>12mo, $1.25</p>

-<hr class='d' />

-<table summary='' width='100%'>

-<tr>

-<td>

-<p class='tp'>HOUGHTON<br />MIFFLIN<br />COMPANY</p>

-</td>

-<td>

-<div style='margin:10px auto; text-align:center;'>

-<img alt='emblem' src='images/illus-emb.jpg' />

-</div>

-</td>

-<td>

-<p class='tp'>BOSTON<br />AND<br />NEW YORK</p>

-</td>

-</tr>

-</table>

-<hr class='b' />

-<hr class='d' />

-<p style='font-size:1.4em; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;'>THE SIEGE <span style='font-size:smaller;'>OF THE</span> SEVEN SUITORS</p>

-<hr class='s' />

-<p style='text-align:right; font-size:1.2em;  margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;'>By MEREDITH NICHOLSON</p>

-<hr class='d' />

-<p>&ldquo;It is not often that one comes upon so clean a farce,

-so delightful, good-humored satire.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>Chicago Evening

-Post.</i></p>

-<p>&ldquo;He has woven wit and humor and clever satire into

-this airy fantasy of twentieth century life in a way that

-should add to his literary fame.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>Indianapolis Star.</i></p>

-<p>&ldquo;For sheer cleverness of invention and sprightly wit

-this story has had no peer in recent years.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>New

-York Press.</i></p>

-<p>&ldquo;Just the sort of book which will delight those seeking

-clean, wholesome entertainment.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>Boston Globe.</i></p>

-<p>&ldquo;Meredith Nicholson&rsquo;s is a delightful book, witty, epigrammatic,

-flavorsome ... recalls Frank Stockton&rsquo;s

-bewitching foolery and perennial charm.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>Milwaukee

-Free Press.</i></p>

-<hr class='s' />

-<p style='text-align:right'>With frontispiece by C. Coles Phillips and illustrations by<br />Reginald Birch. $1.20 <i>net</i>. Postage 14 cents.</p>

-<hr class='d' />

-<table summary='' width='100%'>

-<tr>

-<td>

-<p class='tp'>HOUGHTON<br />MIFFLIN<br />COMPANY</p>

-</td>

-<td>

-<div style='margin:10px auto; text-align:center;'>

-<img alt='emblem' src='images/illus-emb.jpg' />

-</div>

-</td>

-<td>

-<p class='tp'>BOSTON<br />AND<br />NEW YORK</p>

-</td>

-</tr>

-</table>

-<hr class='b' />

-<hr class='d' />

-<p style='font-size:1.4em; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;'>A MAN&rsquo;S MAN</p>

-<hr class='s' />

-<p style='text-align:right; font-size:1.2em;  margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;'>By IAN HAY</p>

-<hr class='d' />

-<p>&ldquo;An admirable romance of adventure. It tells of the

-life of one Hughie Marrable, who, from college days to

-the time when fate relented, had no luck with women.

-The story is cleverly written and full of sprightly

-axioms.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>Philadelphia Ledger.</i></p>

-<p>&ldquo;It is a very joyous book, and the writer&rsquo;s powers of

-characterization are much out of the common.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>The

-Dial.</i></p>

-<p>&ldquo;A good, clean, straightforward bit of fiction, with

-likable people in it, and enough action to keep up the

-suspense throughout.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>Minneapolis Journal.</i></p>

-<p>&ldquo;The reader will search contemporary fiction far before

-he meets a novel which will give him the same

-frank pleasure and amusement.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>London Bookman.</i></p>

-<hr class='s' />

-<p style='text-align:right'>With frontispiece. 12mo, $1.20 <i>net</i>. Postage 10 cents.</p>

-<hr class='d' />

-<table summary='' width='100%'>

-<tr>

-<td>

-<p class='tp'>HOUGHTON<br />MIFFLIN<br />COMPANY</p>

-</td>

-<td>

-<div style='margin:10px auto; text-align:center;'>

-<img alt='emblem' src='images/illus-emb.jpg' />

-</div>

-</td>

-<td>

-<p class='tp'>BOSTON<br />AND<br />NEW YORK</p>

-</td>

-</tr>

-</table>

-<hr class='b' />

-<hr class='d' />

-<p style='font-size:1.4em; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;'>SCOTTIE AND HIS LADY</p>

-<hr class='s' />

-<p style='text-align:right; font-size:1.2em;  margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;'>By MARGARET MORSE</p>

-<hr class='d' />

-<p>&ldquo;The story of a handsome, intelligent collie dog. It

-is entertainingly and sympathetically told, and sure of

-the absorbed interest of every young lover of animals.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>Chicago

-Daily News.</i></p>

-<p>&ldquo;Instantly deserves a place with Richard Harding

-Davis&rsquo;s &lsquo;Bar Sinister,&rsquo; Alfred Ollivant&rsquo;s &lsquo;Bob, Son of

-Battle,&rsquo; and Jack London&rsquo;s &lsquo;Call of the Wild.&rsquo;&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>Boston

-Transcript.</i></p>

-<p>&ldquo;A delightful love story is woven in with the joys and

-trials of Scottie, who finds perfect satisfaction in the

-happy culmination of the romance of his lady.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>Chicago

-Record-Herald.</i></p>

-<hr class='s' />

-<p style='text-align:right'>Illustrated by H. M. Brett.<br />12mo, $1.10 <i>net</i>. Postage 11 cents.</p>

-<hr class='d' />

-<table summary='' width='100%'>

-<tr>

-<td>

-<p class='tp'>HOUGHTON<br />MIFFLIN<br />COMPANY</p>

-</td>

-<td>

-<div style='margin:10px auto; text-align:center;'>

-<img alt='emblem' src='images/illus-emb.jpg' />

-</div>

-</td>

-<td>

-<p class='tp'>BOSTON<br />AND<br />NEW YORK</p>

-</td>

-</tr>

-</table>

-<hr class='b' />

-<hr class='d' />

-<p style='font-size:1.4em; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;'>JOHN WINTERBOURNE&rsquo;S FAMILY</p>

-<hr class='s' />

-<p style='text-align:right; font-size:1.2em;  margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;'>By ALICE BROWN</p>

-<hr class='d' />

-<p>&ldquo;A delightful and unusual story. The manner in

-which the hero&rsquo;s male solitude is invaded and set right

-is amusing and eccentric enough to have been devised

-by the late Frank Stockton. It is a story that is well

-worth reading.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>New York Sun.</i></p>

-<p>&ldquo;Is to be counted among the best novels of this entertaining

-writer ... written with a skilful and delicate

-touch.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>Springfield Republican.</i></p>

-<p>&ldquo;In its literary graces, in its portrayal of characters

-that are never commonplace though genuinely human,

-and in its development of a singular social situation,

-the book is one to give delight.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>Philadelphia Press.</i></p>

-<hr class='s' />

-<p style='text-align:right'>12mo, $1.35 <i>net</i>. Postage 13 cents.</p>

-<hr class='d' />

-<table summary='' width='100%'>

-<tr>

-<td>

-<p class='tp'>HOUGHTON<br />MIFFLIN<br />COMPANY</p>

-</td>

-<td>

-<div style='margin:10px auto; text-align:center;'>

-<img alt='emblem' src='images/illus-emb.jpg' />

-</div>

-</td>

-<td>

-<p class='tp'>BOSTON<br />AND<br />NEW YORK</p>

-</td>

-</tr>

-</table>

-<hr class='b' />

-<hr class='d' />

-<p style='font-size:1.4em; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;'>THE PROFESSIONAL AUNT</p>

-<hr class='s' />

-<p style='text-align:right; font-size:1.2em;  margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;'>By MARY C. E. WEMYSS</p>

-<hr class='d' />

-<p>&ldquo;One of the most delightful stories that has ever

-crossed the water.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>Louisville Courier-Journal.</i></p>

-<p>&ldquo;The legitimate successor of &lsquo;Helen&rsquo;s Babies.&rsquo;&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>Clara Louise Burnham.</i></p>

-<p>&ldquo;A classic in the literature of childhood.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>San Francisco Chronicle.</i></p>

-<p>&ldquo;Mrs. Wemyss is a formidable rival to E. Nesbit,

-who hitherto has stood practically alone as a charmingly

-humorous interpreter of child life.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>Chicago Inter-Ocean.</i></p>

-<p>&ldquo;A charming, witty, tender book.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>Kate Douglas Wiggin.</i></p>

-<p>&ldquo;It is a sunny, warm-hearted humorous story, that

-leaves the reader with a sense of time well spent in

-its perusal.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>Brooklyn Eagle.</i></p>

-<hr class='s' />

-<p style='text-align:right'>16mo. $1.00 <i>net</i>. Postage 10 cents.</p>

-<hr class='d' />

-<table summary='' width='100%'>

-<tr>

-<td>

-<p class='tp'>HOUGHTON<br />MIFFLIN<br />COMPANY</p>

-</td>

-<td>

-<div style='margin:10px auto; text-align:center;'>

-<img alt='emblem' src='images/illus-emb.jpg' />

-</div>

-</td>

-<td>

-<p class='tp'>BOSTON<br />AND<br />NEW YORK</p>

-</td>

-</tr>

-</table>

-

-<!-- generated by ppg.rb version: 3.15 -->

-<!-- timestamp: Fri Sep 25 17:59:47 -0400 2009 -->

-

-<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30090 ***</div>

-</body>

-</html>

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+<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Robinetta, by Kate Douglas Wiggin.</title>
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+<body>
+<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30090 ***</div>
+
+<div class='figtag'>
+<a name='linki_1' id='linki_1'></a>
+</div>
+<div class='figcenter'>
+<img src='images/illus-cvr.jpg' alt='' title='' width='362' height='565' /><br />
+</div>
+<h1>ROBINETTA</h1>
+<hr class='pb' />
+<div class="container">
+<div class="box">
+<p class='tp' style='font-size:1.4em;margin-bottom:10px;'>By Kate Douglas Wiggin</p>
+<hr class='p10' />
+<p class='kdw'>ROBINETTA. Illustrated. 12mo, $1.10 <i>net</i>. Postage, 10 cents.</p>
+<p class='kdw'>REBECCA OF SUNNYBROOK FARM. Holiday Edition. Illustrated. Crown 8vo, $1.50.</p>
+<p class='kdw'>SUSANNA AND SUE. Illustrated by <span class='smcap'>Alice Barber Stephens</span>. Crown 8vo, $1.50 <i>net</i>. Postage 15 cents.</p>
+<p class='kdw'>THE OLD PEABODY PEW. With decorations and illustrations. Large crown 8vo, $1.50.</p>
+<p class='kdw'>REBECCA OF SUNNYBROOK FARM. 12mo, $1.25.</p>
+<p class='kdw'>NEW CHRONICLES OF REBECCA. Illustrated by F. C. <span class='smcap'>Yohn</span>. 12mo, $1.25.</p>
+<p class='kdw'>ROSE O&rsquo; THE RIVER. Illustrated in color. 12mo, 1.25.</p>
+<p class='kdw'>THE AFFAIR AT THE INN. Illustrated. 12mo, $1.25.</p>
+<p class='kdw'>THE DIARY OF A GOOSE GIRL. Illustrated. 12mo, $1.00.</p>
+<p class='kdw'>A CATHEDRAL COURTSHIP, AND PENELOPE&rsquo;S ENGLISH EXPERIENCES. Illustrated. 16mo, $1.00.</p>
+<p class='kdw'>PENELOPE&rsquo;S PROGRESS. 16mo, $1.25.</p>
+<p class='kdw'>PENELOPE&rsquo;S IRISH EXPERIENCES. 16mo, $1.25.</p>
+<p class='kdw'>PENELOPE&rsquo;S EXPERIENCES. I. England; II. Scotland; III. Ireland; <i>Holiday Edition</i>. With many illustrations by <span class='smcap'>Charles E. Brock</span>. 3 vols., each 12mo, $2.00; the set, $6.00.</p>
+<p class='kdw'>A CATHEDRAL COURTSHIP. <i>Holiday Edition</i>, enlarged. Illustrated by C. E. <span class='smcap'>Brock</span>. 12mo, $1.50.</p>
+<p class='kdw'>THE BIRDS&rsquo; CHRISTMAS CAROL. Illustrated. Square 12mo, 50 cents.</p>
+<p class='kdw'>THE STORY OF PATSY. Illustrated. Square 12mo, 60 cents.</p>
+<p class='kdw'>A SUMMER IN  A CAÑON. A California Story. Illustrated. 16mo, $1.25. </p>
+<p class='kdw'>TIMOTHY&rsquo;S QUEST. A Story for Anybody, Young or Old, who cares to read it. 16mo, $1.00. <i>Holiday Edition.</i> Illustrated. Crown 8vo, $1.50.</p>
+<p class='kdw'>POLLY OLIVER&rsquo;S PROBLEM. Illustrated. 16mo, $1.00. In Riverside School Library. 60 cents, <i>net</i>; postpaid.</p>
+<p class='kdw'>THE VILLAGE WATCH-TOWER. 16mo, $1.00.</p>
+<p class='kdw'>MARM LISA. 16mo, $1.00.</p>
+<p class='kdw'>NINE LOVE SONGS, AND A CAROL. Music by Mrs. <span class='smcap'>Wiggin</span>. Words by <span class='smcap'>Herrick, Sill</span>, and others. Square 8vo, $1.25.</p>
+<p class='tp' style='margin-top:10px;'>HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY</p>
+<p class='tp' style='font-variant:small-caps;'>Boston and New York</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<hr class='pb' />
+<div class='figtag'>
+<a name='linki_2' id='linki_2'></a>
+</div>
+<div class='figcenter'>
+<img src='images/illus-fpc.jpg' alt='' title='' width='362' height='595' /><br />
+</div>
+<hr class='pb' />
+<div class='figtag'>
+<a name='linki_3' id='linki_3'></a>
+</div>
+<div class='figcenter'>
+<img src='images/illus-tpg.jpg' alt='' title='' width='362' height='600' /><br />
+</div>
+<hr class='pb' />
+<p class='tp' style='font-size:smaller;margin-bottom:10px;margin-top:20px;'>COPYRIGHT, 1910 AND 1911, BY KATE DOUGLAS RIGGS<br />COPYRIGHT, 1911, BY HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY</p>
+<p class='tp' style='font-size:smaller;margin-bottom:10px;'>ALL RIGHTS RESERVED</p>
+<p class='tp' style='font-size:smaller;margin-bottom:20px;'><i>Published February 1911</i></p>
+<hr class='pb' />
+<h3>CONTENTS</h3>
+<table border='0' cellpadding='2' cellspacing='0' summary='Contents' style='margin:1em auto;'>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>I.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>The Plum Tree</span></td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#I_THE_PLUM_TREE'>1</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>II.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>The Manor House</span></td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#II_THE_MANOR_HOUSE'>7</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>III.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Young Mrs. Loring</span></td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#III_YOUNG_MRS_LORING'>19</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>IV.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>A Chilly Reception</span></td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#IV_A_CHILLY_RECEPTION'>29</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>V.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>At Wittisham</span></td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#V_AT_WITTISHAM'>39</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>VI.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Mark Lavendar</span></td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#VI_MARK_LAVENDAR'>54</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>VII.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>A Cross-Examination</span></td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#VII_A_CROSSEXAMINATION'>69</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>VIII.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Sunday at Stoke Revel</span></td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#VIII_SUNDAY_AT_STOKE_REVEL'>87</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>IX.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Points of View</span></td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#IX_POINTS_OF_VIEW'>99</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>X.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>A New Kinsman</span></td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#X_A_NEW_KINSMAN'>113</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XI.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>The Sands at Weston</span></td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XI_THE_SANDS_AT_WESTON'>127</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XII.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Love in the Mud</span></td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XII_LOVE_IN_THE_MUD'>151</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XIII.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Carnaby to the Rescue</span></td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XIII_CARNABY_TO_THE_RESCUE'>170</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XIV.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>The Empty Shrine</span></td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XIV_THE_EMPTY_SHRINE'>181</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XV.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>&ldquo;Now Lubin Is Away&rdquo;</span></td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XV_NOW_LUBIN_IS_AWAY'>194</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XVI.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Two Letters</span></td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XVI_TWO_LETTERS'>210</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XVII.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Mrs. de Tracy crosses the Ferry</span></td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XVII_MRS_DE_TRACY_CROSSES_THE_FERRY'>217</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XVIII.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>The Stoke Revel Jewels</span></td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XVIII_THE_STOKE_REVEL_JEWELS'>234</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XIX.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Lawyer and Client</span></td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XIX_LAWYER_AND_CLIENT'>250</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XX.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>The New Home</span></td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XX_THE_NEW_HOME'>260</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XXI.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Carnaby Cuts the Knot</span></td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XXI_CARNABY_CUTS_THE_KNOT'>273</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XXII.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Consequences</span></td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XXII_CONSEQUENCES'>284</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XXIII.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Death and Life</span></td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XXIII_DEATH_AND_LIFE'>299</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XXIV.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Grandmother and Grandson</span></td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XXIV_GRANDMOTHER_AND_GRANDSON'>309</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XXV.</td>
+  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>The Bells of Stoke Revel</span></td>
+  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XXV_THE_BELLS_OF_STOKE_REVEL'>324</a></td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+<hr class='pb' />
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_1' name='page_1'></a>1</span></div>
+<h2>ROBINETTA</h2>
+<div class='chsp' style='padding-top:0'>
+<a name='I_THE_PLUM_TREE' id='I_THE_PLUM_TREE'></a>
+<h2>I</h2>
+<h3>THE PLUM TREE</h3>
+</div>
+<p>At Wittisham several of the little houses
+had crept down very close to the river. Mrs.
+Prettyman&rsquo;s cottage was just like a hive
+made for the habitation of some gigantic
+bee; its pointed roof covered with deep,
+close-cut thatch the colour of a donkey&rsquo;s hide.
+There were small windows under the overhanging
+eaves, a pathway of irregular flat
+stones ran up to the doorway, and a bit of
+low wall divided the tiny garden from the
+river. The Plum Tree grew just beside
+the wall, so near indeed that it could look
+at itself on spring days when the water
+was like a mirror. In autumn the branches
+on that side of the tree were the first to be
+shaken, lest any of the fruit should fall down
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_2' name='page_2'></a>2</span>
+and be lost. Sometimes a village child treading
+cautiously on bare toes amongst the
+stones along the narrow margin, would
+pounce upon a plum with a squeal of joy,
+for although the village was surrounded with
+orchards, the fruit of Mrs. Prettyman&rsquo;s tree
+had a flavour all its own.</p>
+<p>The tree had been given to her by a
+nephew who was a gardener in a great fruit
+orchard in the North, and her husband had
+planted and tended it for years. It began life
+as a slender thing with two or three rods of
+branches, that looked as if the first wind of
+winter would blow it away, but before the
+storms came, it had begun to trust itself to
+the new earth, and to root itself with force
+and determination. There were good soil
+and water near it, and plenty of sunshine,
+and, as is the way of Nature, it set itself to
+do its own business at all seasons, unlike the
+distracted heart of man. The traffic of the
+river came and went; around the headland
+the big ships were steering in, or going out
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_3' name='page_3'></a>3</span>
+to sea; and in the village the human life
+went on while the Plum Tree grew high
+enough to look over the wall. Its stem by
+that time had a firm footing; next it took a
+charming bend to the side, and then again
+threw out new branches in that direction. It
+turned itself from the prevailing wind, throwing
+a new grace into its attitude, and went
+on growing; returning in blossom and leaves
+and fruit an hundredfold for all that it received
+from the earth and the sun.</p>
+<p>In spring it was enchanting; at first, before
+the blossoms came out, with small bright
+leaves, and buds like pearls, heaped upon
+the branches; then, later, when the whole
+tree was white, imaged like a bride, in the
+looking-glass of the river. It only wanted
+a nightingale to sing in it by moonlight.
+There were no nightingales there, but the
+thrushes sang in the dawning, and the little
+birds whose voices were sweet and thin chirruped
+about it in crowds, while the larks,
+trilling out the ardour of mating time, sometimes
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_4' name='page_4'></a>4</span>
+rose from their nests in the grass and
+soared over its topmost branches on their
+skyward flight.</p>
+<p>Spring, therefore, was its merriest time,
+for then every passer-by would cry, &ldquo;What
+a beautiful tree!&rdquo; or &ldquo;Did ye ever see the
+likes of it?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>There were a few days of inevitable sadness
+a little later when its million petals fell
+and made a delicate carpet of snow on the
+ground. There they lay in a kind of fairy
+ring, as if there had been a shower of
+mother-of-pearl in the April night; and no
+human creature would have dared set a vandal
+foot on that magic circle, and mar the perfection
+of its beauty. All the same the Plum
+Tree had lost its petals, and that was hard
+to bear at first. But though its Wittisham
+neighbours often said to summer trippers, &ldquo;I
+wish you could have seen it in blossom!&rdquo; the
+Plum Tree did not repine, because of the
+secrets&ndash;&ndash;the thousand, thousand secrets&ndash;&ndash;it
+held under its leaves. &ldquo;The blossoms were
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_5' name='page_5'></a>5</span>
+but a promise,&rdquo; it thought, &ldquo;and soon everybody
+will see the meaning of them.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Then the tiny green globes began to appear
+on every branch and twig; crowding,
+crowding, crowding till it seemed as if there
+could never be room for so many to grow;
+but the weaker ones fell from the boughs or
+were blown away when the wind was fierce,
+so the Plum Tree felt no anxiety, knowing
+that it was built for a large family! The little
+green globes grew and grew, and drank
+in sweet mother-juices, and swelled, and
+when the summer sun touched their cheeks
+all day they flushed and reddened, till when
+August came the tree was laden with purpling
+fruit; fruit so tempting that its rosy
+beauty had sometimes to be hidden under
+a veil of grey fishing net, lest the myriad
+bird-friends it had made during the summer
+should love it too much for its own
+good.</p>
+<p>So the Plum Tree grew and flourished,
+taking its part in the pageant of the seasons,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_6' name='page_6'></a>6</span>
+unaware that its existence was to be interwoven
+with that of men; or that creatures
+of another order of being were to owe some
+changes in their fortunes to its silent obedience
+to the motive of life.</p>
+<hr class='toprule' />
+<div class='chsp'>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_7' name='page_7'></a>7</span>
+<a name='II_THE_MANOR_HOUSE' id='II_THE_MANOR_HOUSE'></a>
+<h2>II</h2>
+<h3>THE MANOR HOUSE</h3>
+</div>
+<p>The long, low drawing room of the Manor
+at Stoke Revel was the warmest and most
+genial room in the old Georgian house. It
+was four-windowed and faced south, and
+even on this morning of a chilly and backward
+spring, the tentative sunshine of April
+had contrived to put out the fire in the steel
+grate. One of the windows opened wide to
+the garden, and let in a scent which was less
+of flowers than of the promise of flowers&ndash;&ndash;a
+scent of earth and green leaves, of the leafless
+daphne still a-bloom in the shrubbery,
+of hyacinths and daffodils and tulips and
+primroses still sheathed in their buds and
+awaiting a warmer air.</p>
+<p>But this promise of spring borne into the
+room by the wandering breeze from the river,
+was nipped, as it were, by the frigid spirit of
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_8' name='page_8'></a>8</span>
+age and formalism in its living occupants.
+Mrs. de Tracy, a lady of seventy-five, sat at her
+writing-table. Her companion, Miss Smeardon,
+a person of indeterminate age, nursed
+the lap-dog Rupert during such time as her
+employer was too deeply engaged to fulfil
+that agreeable duty. Mrs. de Tracy, as she
+wrote, was surrounded by countless photographs
+of her family and her wide connection,
+most prominent among them two&ndash;&ndash;that of
+her husband, Admiral de Tracy, who had died
+many years ago, and that of her grandson,
+his successor, whose guardian she was, and
+whose minority she directed. Her eldest son,
+the father of this boy, who had died on his
+ship off the coast of Africa; his wife, dead
+too these many years; her other sons as
+well (she had borne four); their wives and
+children&ndash;&ndash;grown men, fashionable women,
+beautiful children, fat babies: the likenesses
+of them all were around her, standing amid
+china and flowers and bric-a-brac on the
+crowded tables and what-nots of the not inharmonious
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_9' name='page_9'></a>9</span>
+and yet shabby Victorian room.
+Mrs. de Tracy, it might at a glance be seen,
+was no innovator, either in furniture, in
+dress, or probably in ideas. As she was dressed
+now, in the severely simple black of a widow,
+so she had been dressed when she first
+mourned Admiral de Tracy. The muslin ends
+of her widow&rsquo;s cap fell upon her shoulders,
+and its border rested on the hard lines of
+iron-grey hair which framed a face small,
+pale, aquiline in character and decidedly
+austere in expression.</p>
+<p>She took one from a docketed pile of letters
+and held it up under her glasses, the
+sun suddenly striking a dazzle of blue and
+green from the diamond rings on her small,
+withered hands. Then she read it aloud to her
+companion in an even and chilly voice. She
+had read it before, in the same way, at the
+same hour, several times. The letter, couched
+in an epistolary style largely dependent upon
+underlining, appeared to contain, nevertheless,
+some matter of moment. It was dated
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_10' name='page_10'></a>10</span>
+from Eaton Square, in London, some weeks
+before, and signed Maria Spalding. (&ldquo;Her
+mother was a Gallup,&rdquo; Mrs. de Tracy would
+say, if any one asked who Maria Spalding
+was; and this was considered sufficient, for
+Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s maiden name had been
+Gallup,&ndash;&ndash;not euphonious but nevertheless
+aristocratic.)</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+<p><span class='smcap'>My dear Augusta</span> (Maria Spalding
+wrote): I am going to ask you to help me
+out of a <i>difficulty</i>. There is no <i>use</i> beating
+about the bush. You know that Cynthia&rsquo;s
+daughter Robinetta (Loring is her <i>married</i>
+name) has been with me for a month. <i>American</i>
+or no <i>American</i>, I meant to have had
+her for a part of the season, and to <i>present</i>
+her, if possible (so <i>good</i> for these Americans
+to learn what royalty <i>is</i> and to breathe the
+atmosphere which doth hedge a <i>King</i> as
+Shakespeare says, and which they can never
+<i>have</i>, of course, in a country like theirs). I
+know you can&rsquo;t <i>approve</i>, dear Augusta, and
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_11' name='page_11'></a>11</span>
+you will blame me for sentimentality&ndash;&ndash;but
+I never <i>can</i> forget what a <i>sweet</i> creature
+Cynthia was before she ran away with that
+odious American&ndash;&ndash;and my <i>greatest</i> friend
+in girlhood, too, you must remember. So
+Robinette, as she is generally called, has come
+to my house as a <i>home</i>, but a most <i>unlucky</i>
+thing has happened. I have had influenza so
+badly that it has affected my <i>heart</i> (an old
+trouble), I am ordered to Nauheim, and Robinette
+is <i>stranded</i>, poor dear. She has few
+friends in London and certainly none who
+can put her up. Tho&rsquo; she <i>is</i> a widow, she is
+only twenty-two (just <i>imagine</i>!), very pretty,
+and really, tho&rsquo; you won&rsquo;t believe it, <i>quite</i>
+nice. I am <i>desperate</i>, and just wondering if
+you would let by-gones be by-gones, and
+receive her at Stoke Revel. She has set her
+heart upon seeing the place, and some <i>picture</i>
+she was called after (I can&rsquo;t remember it, so
+it can&rsquo;t be one of the <i>famous</i> Stoke Revel
+group&ndash;&ndash;a <i>copy</i>, I fancy), and on paying a
+visit to Lizzie Prettyman, her mother&rsquo;s old
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_12' name='page_12'></a>12</span>
+nurse at Wittisham over the river. She <i>promised</i>
+her mother she would do this&ndash;&ndash;and
+such a promise is <i>sacred</i>, don&rsquo;t you think?
+It&rsquo;s such an <i>old</i> story now, Cynthia&rsquo;s American
+marriage, and no fault of <i>Robinette&rsquo;s</i>,
+poor dear child. Her wish is almost a <i>pious</i>
+one, don&rsquo;t you agree, to pay respect to her
+mother&rsquo;s memory and the family, and is <i>much</i>
+to be encouraged in these days of radicalism,
+when every natural tie is loosened and people
+pay no more <i>respect</i> to their parents than
+if they hadn&rsquo;t any, but had made themselves
+and brought themselves up from the beginning.
+So don&rsquo;t you think it&rsquo;s a <i>good</i> thing
+to encourage the <i>right</i> kind of feeling in
+Robinette, especially as she is an <i>American</i>,
+you know....</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+<p>Mrs. de Tracy paused, and replaced the
+letter in the package from which she had
+withdrawn it.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Maria Spalding&rsquo;s point of view,&rdquo; she
+observed, &ldquo;has, I confess, helped me to overcome
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_13' name='page_13'></a>13</span>
+the extreme reluctance I felt to receive
+the child of that American here. Cynthia
+de Tracy&rsquo;s elopement nearly broke my dear
+husband&rsquo;s heart. She was the apple of his eye
+before our marriage; so much younger than
+himself that she was like his child rather than
+his sister.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;What a shock it must have been!&rdquo; murmured
+the companion. &ldquo;What ingratitude!
+Can you really receive her child? Of course
+you know best, Mrs. de Tracy; but it seems
+a risk.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Hardly a risk,&rdquo; rejoined Mrs. de Tracy
+with dignity. &ldquo;But it is a trial to me, and
+an effort that I scarcely feel called upon to
+make.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Miss Smeardon was so well versed in her
+duties that she knew she always had to urge
+her employer to do exactly what she most
+wanted to do, and the poor creature had developed
+a really wonderful ingenuity in divining
+what these wishes were. Just now, however,
+she was, to use a sporting phrase, &ldquo;at
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_14' name='page_14'></a>14</span>
+fault&rdquo; for a minute. She could not exactly
+tell whether Mrs. de Tracy wanted to be
+urged to ask her niece to Stoke Revel, or
+whether she wanted to be supplied with a
+really plausible excuse for not doing so.
+Those of you who have seen a hound at fault
+can imagine the companion at this moment:
+irresolute, tense, desperately anxious to find
+and follow up the right scent. Compromise,
+that useful refuge, came to her aid.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;It <i>is</i> difficult to know,&rdquo; she faltered.
+Then Mrs. de Tracy gave her the lead.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Maria Spalding is right when she says
+that my husband&rsquo;s niece contemplates a duty
+in visiting Stoke Revel,&rdquo; she announced.
+&ldquo;The young woman is the lawful daughter
+of Cynthia de Tracy that was: our solicitors
+could never discover anything dubious in
+the marriage, though we long suspected it.
+Therefore, though I never could have invited
+her here, I admit that the Admiral&rsquo;s niece
+has a right to come, in a way.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Though her maiden name was Bean!&rdquo;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_15' name='page_15'></a>15</span>
+ejaculated the companion, almost under her
+breath. &ldquo;There are Pease in the North, as
+everyone knows; perhaps there are Beans
+somewhere.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;There have never been Beans,&rdquo; said Mrs.
+de Tracy solemnly and totally unconscious
+of a pun. &ldquo;Look for yourself!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Miss Smeardon did not need to rise from
+her seat and fetch Burke: it lay always close
+at hand. She merely lifted it on to her knee
+and ran her finger down the names beginning
+with B-e-a.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Beaton, Beare, Beatty, Beale&ndash;&ndash;&rdquo; she
+read out, and she shook her head in dismal
+triumph; &ldquo;but never a Bean! No! we English
+have no such dreadful names, thank
+Heavens!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;This is the beginning of April,&rdquo; pursued
+Mrs. de Tracy, referring to a date-card.
+&ldquo;Maria Spalding&rsquo;s course at Nauheim will
+take three weeks. We must allow her a week
+for going and coming. During that time
+Mrs. David Loring can be my guest.&rdquo;</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_16' name='page_16'></a>16</span></div>
+<p>&ldquo;A whole month!&rdquo; cried the companion,
+as though in ecstasy at her employer&rsquo;s generosity.
+&ldquo;A whole month at Stoke Revel!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Mrs. de Tracy took no notice. &ldquo;Write
+in my name to Maria Spalding, please,&rdquo; she
+commanded. &ldquo;Be sure that there is no mistake
+about dates. Mention the departure and
+arrival of trains, and say that Mrs. David
+Loring will find a fly at the station. That is
+all, I think.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>The companion bent officiously forward.
+&ldquo;You remember, of course, that young Mr.
+Lavendar comes down next week upon business?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Well, what if he does?&rdquo; asked Mrs.
+de Tracy shortly.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Mrs. David Loring is a widow,&rdquo; murmured
+the companion darkly; &ldquo;a young
+American widow; and they are said to be
+so dangerous!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Mrs. de Tracy drew herself up. &ldquo;Do you
+insinuate that the Admiral&rsquo;s niece will lay
+herself out to attract Mr. Lavendar, a
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_17' name='page_17'></a>17</span>
+widow in the house of a widow! You go
+rather too far, Miss Smeardon, though you
+are speaking of an American. Besides, allusions
+of this character are extremely distasteful
+to me. I have been told that the
+minds of unmarried women are always running
+upon love affairs, but I should hardly
+have thought it of you.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m sure I never imagined any about
+myself!&rdquo; murmured Miss Smeardon with the
+pitiable writhe of the trodden-on worm.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I should suppose not,&rdquo; rejoined Mrs.
+de Tracy gravely, and the companion took
+up her pen obediently to write to Maria
+Spalding.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Shall I send your love to the Admiral&rsquo;s
+niece?&rdquo; she humbly enquired, &ldquo;or&ndash;&ndash;or
+something of the kind?&rdquo; There was irony
+in the last phrase, but it was quite unconscious.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Not my love,&rdquo; replied Mrs. de Tracy,
+&ldquo;some suitable message. Make no mistake
+about the dates, remember.&rdquo;</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_18' name='page_18'></a>18</span></div>
+<p>Thus a letter containing dates, and though
+not love, the substitute described by Miss
+Smeardon as &ldquo;something of the kind&rdquo; for
+an unwanted niece from an unknown aunt,
+left Stoke Revel by the afternoon post and
+reached Robinette Loring at breakfast next
+morning.</p>
+<hr class='toprule' />
+<div class='chsp'>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_19' name='page_19'></a>19</span>
+<a name='III_YOUNG_MRS_LORING' id='III_YOUNG_MRS_LORING'></a>
+<h2>III</h2>
+<h3>YOUNG MRS. LORING</h3>
+</div>
+<p>Young Mrs. Loring thought she had
+never taken so long a drive as that from the
+Weston railway station to Stoke Revel. The
+way stretched through narrow winding roads,
+always up hill, always between high Devonshire
+hedges. The rain-soaked lanes were
+slippery and she was unpleasantly conscious
+of the size and weight of the American wardrobe
+trunk that reared its mighty frame in
+front of her almost to the blotting-out of the
+driver, who steadied it with one hand as he
+plied the whip with the other. It struck her
+humorously that the trunk was larger than
+most of the cottages they were passing.</p>
+<p>It was a late spring that year in England,&ndash;&ndash;Robinette
+was a new-comer and did not
+know that England runs to late and wet
+springs, believing that they make more
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_20' name='page_20'></a>20</span>
+conversation than early, fine ones,&ndash;&ndash;and the
+trees were just bursting into leaf. The sun
+had not shone for three days and the landscape,
+for all its beautiful greenness, looked
+gloomy to an eye accustomed to a good deal
+of crude sunshine.</p>
+<p>As the horse mounted higher and higher
+Robinette glanced out of the windows at the
+dripping boughs and her face lost something
+of its sparkle of anticipation. She had little
+to expect in the way of a warm welcome, she
+knew that; or at least her mind knew it, but
+Robinette&rsquo;s heart always expected surprises,
+although she had lived two and twenty summers
+and was a widow at that.</p>
+<p>Her mother had been a de Tracy of Stoke
+Revel whose connection with that ancient
+family had ceased abruptly when she met an
+American architect while traveling on the
+Continent, married him out of hand and
+went to his native New England with him.
+The de Tracys had no opinion of America,
+its government, its institutions, its customs,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_21' name='page_21'></a>21</span>
+or its people, and when they learned that
+Cynthia de Tracy had not only allied herself
+with this undesirable nation, but had selected
+a native by the name of Harold Bean, they
+regarded the incident of the marriage as
+closed.</p>
+<p>The union had been a happy one, though
+the de Tracys of Stoke Revel had always regarded
+the unfortunately named architect
+more as a vegetable than a human being;
+and the daughter of the marriage was the
+young Mrs. Loring now driving in the station
+fly to the home of her mother&rsquo;s people.</p>
+<p>Her father had died when she was fifteen
+and her mother followed three years after,
+leaving her with a respectable fortune but no
+relations; the entire family (happily, Mrs.
+de Tracy would have said) having died out
+with Harold. Robinette was unspeakably
+lonely, even with her hundred friends, for
+there was enough English blood in her to
+make her cry out inwardly for kith and kin,
+for family ties, for all the dear familiar backgrounds
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_22' name='page_22'></a>22</span>
+of hearth and home. Had a welcoming
+hand been stretched across the sea she
+would have flown at once to make acquaintance
+with the de Tracys, cold and indifferent
+as they had always been, but no bidding ever
+came, and the picture of the Manor House
+of Stoke Revel on her dressing-table was the
+only reminder of her connection with that
+ancient and honourable house.</p>
+<p>It is not difficult to see, under the circumstances,
+how the nineteen-year-old Robinette
+became the wife of the first man in whom
+she inspired a serious passion.</p>
+<p>It is incredible that women should confuse
+the passive process of being loved with the
+active process of loving, but it occurs nevertheless,
+and Robinette drifted into marriage
+with the vaguest possible notions of what it
+meant; feeling and knowing that she needed
+something, and supposing it must be a husband.
+It was better fortune, perhaps, than
+she merited, and equally kind for both parties,
+that her husband died before either of
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_23' name='page_23'></a>23</span>
+them realized the tragic mistake. David Loring
+was too absorbed in his own emotions to
+note the absence of full response on the part
+of his wife; Robinette was too much a child
+and too inexperienced to be conscious of her
+own lack of feeling.</p>
+<p>It was death, not life, that opened her eyes.
+When David Loring lay in his coffin, Robinette&rsquo;s
+heart was suddenly seized with growing
+pains. Her vision widened; words and
+promises took on a new and larger meaning,
+and she became a serious woman for her
+years, although there was an ineradicable
+gaiety of spirit in her that needed only sunshine
+to make it the dominant note of her
+nature.</p>
+<p>At the moment, Robinette, in the station
+fly on her way to Stoke Revel, was only in
+the making, although she herself considered
+her life as practically finished. The past and
+the present were moulding her into something
+that only the future could determine.
+Sometimes April, sometimes July, sometimes
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_24' name='page_24'></a>24</span>
+witch, sometimes woman; impetuous, intrepid,
+romantic, tempestuous, illogical,&ndash;&ndash;these
+were but the elements of which the
+coming years of experience had yet to shape
+a character. Young Mrs. Loring had plenty
+of briars, but she had good roots and in favorable
+soil would be certain to bear roses.</p>
+<p>But in the immediate present, the fly with
+the immense American wardrobe trunk beside
+the driver, turned into the avenue of
+Stoke Revel, and Mrs. David Loring bestowed
+upon herself those little feminine attentions
+which precede arrival&ndash;&ndash;pattings of the hair
+behind the ears, twitches of the veil, and pullings
+down about the waist and sleeves. A
+little toy of a purse made of golden chainwork,
+hanging from her wrist, was searched
+for the driver&rsquo;s fare, and it had hardly snapped
+to again when the fly drew up before the
+entrance to the house. How interesting it
+looked! Robinette put her head out of the
+carriage window and gazed up at the long
+row of windows, the old weather-coloured
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_25' name='page_25'></a>25</span>
+stones, and the carved front of the building.
+Here was a house where things might happen,
+she thought, and her young heart gave
+a sudden bound of anticipation.</p>
+<p>But the door was shut, alas! and a blank
+feeling came over Robinette as she looked
+at it. Some one perhaps would come out and
+welcome her, she thought for a brief moment,
+but only the butler appeared, who,
+with the formal announcement of her name,
+ushered her into a long, low room with a
+row of windows on one side and a pleasant
+old-fashioned look of comfort and habitation.
+She caught a glimpse of a tea-table with a
+steaming urn upon it, heard the furious barking
+of a little dog, saw that there were two
+figures in the room and moved instinctively
+towards the one beside the window, the
+figure in weeds, neither very tall nor very
+imposing, yet somehow formidable.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;How do you do?&rdquo; said an icy voice,
+and a chill hand held hers for a moment, but
+did not press it. The colour in Robinette&rsquo;s
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_26' name='page_26'></a>26</span>
+cheeks paled and then rushed back, as she
+drew herself up unconsciously.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I am very well, thank you, Aunt de
+Tracy,&rdquo; she answered with commendable
+composure.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;This is my friend and companion, Miss
+Smeardon,&rdquo; continued Mrs. de Tracy, advancing
+to the tea-table where that useful
+personage officiated. &ldquo;Mrs. David Loring&ndash;&ndash;Miss
+Smeardon.&rdquo; Miss Smeardon had the
+dog upon her lap, yapping, clashing his
+teeth together, and obviously thirsting for
+the visitor&rsquo;s blood. He was quieted with
+soothing words, and Robinette seated herself
+innocently in the nearest chair, beside the
+table.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Excuse me!&rdquo; the companion said with a
+slight cough; &ldquo;Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s chair! Do
+you mind taking another?&rdquo; There was
+something disagreeable in her voice, and
+in Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s deliberate scrutiny something
+so nearly insulting that a childish
+impulse to cry then and there suddenly
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_27' name='page_27'></a>27</span>
+seized upon Robinette. This was her mother&rsquo;s
+home&ndash;&ndash;and no kiss had welcomed her to it,
+no kind word! There were perfunctory questions
+about her journey, references to the
+coldness and lateness of the spring, enquiries
+after the health of Maria Spalding (whose
+mother was a Gallup), but no claiming of
+kinship, no naming of her mother&rsquo;s name nor
+of her native country! Robinette&rsquo;s ardent
+spirit had felt sorrow, but it had never met
+rebuff nor known injustice, and the sudden
+stir of revolt at her heart was painful with
+an almost physical pain.</p>
+<p>After a long drawn hour of this social
+torture, Mrs. de Tracy rang, and a hard-featured
+elderly maid appeared.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Show Mrs. Loring to her room, Benson,&rdquo;
+said the mistress of the house, &ldquo;and help
+her to unpack.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Robinette followed her conductor upstairs
+with a sinking heart. Oh! but the chill of
+this English spring was in her bones, and the
+coldness of a reception so frigid that her
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_28' name='page_28'></a>28</span>
+passionate young spirit almost rebelled on
+the spot, prompting wild ideas and impulsive
+impossibilities; even a flight to her mother&rsquo;s
+old nurse&ndash;&ndash;to Lizzie Prettyman, so often
+lovingly described, with her little thatched
+cottage beyond the river! Surely she would
+find the welcome there that was lacking here,
+and the touch of human kindness that one
+craved in a foreign land. But no! Robinette
+called to her aid her strong American
+common sense and the &ldquo;grit&rdquo; that her
+countrymen admire. Was she to confess herself
+routed in the very first onset&ndash;&ndash;the
+very first attempt in storming the ancestral
+stronghold? With a characteristically
+quick return of hope, the Admiral&rsquo;s niece
+exclaimed, &ldquo;Certainly not!&rdquo;</p>
+<hr class='toprule' />
+<div class='chsp'>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_29' name='page_29'></a>29</span>
+<a name='IV_A_CHILLY_RECEPTION' id='IV_A_CHILLY_RECEPTION'></a>
+<h2>IV</h2>
+<h3>A CHILLY RECEPTION</h3>
+</div>
+<p>Mrs. Benson approached the wardrobe
+trunk with the air of a person who has taken
+an immediate and violent dislike to an object.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;We have all looked at your box, ma&rsquo;am,
+but I am sorry to say we are not sure that it
+is set up properly. It is very different from
+any we have ever seen at the Manor, and the
+men had some difficulty in getting it up to
+the room. I fancy it is upside down, is it
+not? No? We rather thought it was. I
+would call the boot-and-knife boy to unlock
+it, but he jammed his hand in attempting to
+force the catches, and I thought you would
+be kind enough to instruct me how to open
+it, perhaps?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I am quite able to do it myself,&rdquo; said
+Robinette, keeping down a hysterical laugh.
+&ldquo;See how easily it goes when you know the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_30' name='page_30'></a>30</span>
+secret!&rdquo; and she deftly turned her key in
+two locks one after the other, let down the
+mysterious fa&ccedil;ade of the affair, and pulled
+out an extraordinary rack on which hung so
+many dresses and wraps that Mrs. Benson
+lost her breath in surprise.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Would you like me to carry some of
+your things into another room, ma&rsquo;am?&rdquo; she
+asked. &ldquo;They will never go in the wardrobe;
+it is only a plain English wardrobe, ma&rsquo;am.
+We have never had any American guests.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;The things needn&rsquo;t be moved,&rdquo; said Robinette,
+&ldquo;many of them will be quite convenient
+where they are;&ndash;&ndash;and now you need
+not trouble about me; I am well used to
+helping myself, if you will be kind enough to
+come in just before dinner for a moment.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Mrs. Benson disappeared below stairs,
+where she regaled the injured boot-and-knife
+boy and the female servants with the first
+instalment of what was destined to be the
+most dramatic and sensational serial story
+ever told at the Manor House.</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_31' name='page_31'></a>31</span></div>
+<p>&ldquo;The lid of the box don&rsquo;t lift up,&rdquo; she
+explained, &ldquo;like all the box lids as ever I
+saw, and me with Lady Chitterton for six
+years, traveling constantly. The front of the
+thing splits in the middle and the bottom
+half falls on the floor. A heathenish kind of
+tray lifts off from its hinges like a door, and
+a clothes rack pulls out on runners. &rsquo;T is a
+sight to curdle your blood; and the number
+of dresses she&rsquo;s brought would make her out
+to be richer than Crusoe!&ndash;&ndash;though I have
+heard from a cousin of mine who was in
+service in America that the ladies over there
+spend every penny they can rake and scrape
+on their clothes. Their husbands may work
+their fingers to the bone, and their parents
+be in the workhouse, but fine frocks they
+will have!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Rather!&rdquo; said the boot-and-knife boy,
+nursing his injured thumb.</p>
+<p>On the departure of Mrs. Benson from
+her room, Robinette gave a stifled shriek in
+which laughter and tears were equally mingled.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_32' name='page_32'></a>32</span>
+Then she flew like a lapwing to the
+fire-place and lifted off a fan of white paper
+from the grate.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;No possibility of help there!&rdquo; she exclaimed.
+&ldquo;Cold within, cold without! How
+shall I unpack? How shall I dress? How
+shall I live without a fire? Ah! here is the
+coal box! Empty! Empty, and it is only the
+month of April! &lsquo;Oh! to be in England
+now that April&rsquo;s there!&rsquo; How could Browning
+write that line without his teeth chattering!
+How well I understand the desire of
+the British to keep India and South Africa!
+They must have some place to go where they
+can get warm! Now for unpacking, or any
+sort of manual labour which will put my
+frozen blood in circulation!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Slapping her hands, beating her breast,
+stamping her feet, Mrs. Loring removed a
+few dresses from the offending trunk to the
+mahogany wardrobe, and disposed her effects
+neatly in the drawers of bureau and highboy.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I have made a mistake at the very beginning,&rdquo;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_33' name='page_33'></a>33</span>
+she thought. &ldquo;I supposed nothing
+could be too pretty for the Manor House and
+now I am afraid my worst is too fine. The
+Manor House of Stoke Revel! Wouldn&rsquo;t
+that appeal to anyone&rsquo;s imagination? Now
+what for to-night? White satin with crystal?
+Back you go into the trunk! Back goes the
+silver grey chiffon! I&rsquo;ll have it re-hung over
+flannel! Avaunt! heliotrope velvet with
+amethyst spangles, made with a view to
+ensnaring the High Church clergy! I wish I
+had a princess dress of moleskin with a court
+train of squirrel hanging from the shoulders!
+Here is the thing; my black Liberty satin
+two years old. I will cover part of my exposed
+neck and shoulders with a fichu of
+lace; my black silk openwork stockings will
+be drawn on over a pair of balbriggans, and
+the number of petticoats I shall don would
+discourage a Scotch fishwife! To-morrow
+I&rsquo;ll write Mrs. Spalding&rsquo;s maid to buy me
+two hot-water bottles, mittens, a box of
+quinine tablets and a Shetland shawl....
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_34' name='page_34'></a>34</span>
+What are these&ndash;&ndash;<i>fans?</i> Retire into the
+depths of that tray and never look me in
+the face again!... <i>Parasols?</i> I wonder
+at your impertinence in coming here! I
+shall give you cod liver oil and make you
+grow into umbrellas!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Presently the dinner gong growled
+through the house, and Robinette, still shivering,
+flung across her shoulders a shimmering
+scarf of white and silver. It fell over her
+simple black dress in just the right way, adding
+a last touch to the somewhat exotic grace
+which made her a stranger in her mother&rsquo;s
+home. Then she fled down the darkening
+passages, instinctively aware that unpunctuality
+was a crime in this house. Yet in spite
+of her haste, she paused before the window
+of an upper lobby, arrested by the scene it
+framed. Heavy rain still fell, and the light,
+made greenish by the nearness of great trees
+just coming into leaf, was cheerless and
+singularly cold. But that could not mar the
+majesty of the outlook which made the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_35' name='page_35'></a>35</span>
+Manor of Stoke Revel, on its height, unique.
+Far below the house, the broad river slipped
+towards the sea, between woods that rose
+tier upon tier above and beyond&ndash;&ndash;woods of
+beech and of oak, not yet green, but purplish
+under the rainy mist. On the bank, woods
+too, and here, where the river, in excess of
+strength, swirled into a creek&ndash;&ndash;a shining
+sand-bank where fishing nets were hung.
+Then the low, strong tower of a church, with
+the sombreness of cypress beside it, and the
+thatched roofs of cottages.</p>
+<p>Something stirred in the heart of Robinette
+as she looked, that part of her blood
+which her English mother had given her.
+This scene, so indescribably English as
+hardly to be imaginable in another land, had
+been painted for her again and again by her
+mother with all the retrospective romance of
+an exile&rsquo;s touch. She knew it, but she did
+not know if she could ever love it, beautiful
+though it was and noble.</p>
+<p>But she banished these misgivings and ran
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_36' name='page_36'></a>36</span>
+down the twisted stairway so fast that she
+was almost panting when she reached the
+drawing-room door.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I will take your arm, please,&rdquo; said the
+hostess coldly, while Miss Smeardon wore the
+virtuous and injured air of one who has been
+kept waiting. Mrs. de Tracy laid, on the
+warm and smooth arm of her guest, one of
+her small, dry hands, sparkling with rings,
+and the procession closed with the companion
+and the lap-dog.</p>
+<p>In the dining room, the shutters were
+closed, and the candles, in branching candlesticks
+of silver, only partially lit a room long
+and low like the other. The walls were darkened
+with pictures, and Robinette&rsquo;s bright
+eyes searched them eagerly.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;The Sir Joshua is not here!&rdquo; she
+thought. &ldquo;And it was not in the drawing
+room. Has Aunt de Tracy given, or hidden
+it away&ndash;&ndash;my very own name-picture?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>With all her determination, Robinette
+somehow could not summon courage enough
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_37' name='page_37'></a>37</span>
+to ask where this picture was. Such a question
+would involve the mention of her mother&rsquo;s
+name, and from that she shrank. Young Mrs.
+Loring had never before found herself in a
+society where conversation was apparently
+regarded as a crime, and to fit herself to her
+environment, under the scrutiny of Mrs. de
+Tracy and the decidedly inimical looks of
+the companion, took all her time. A burden
+of self-consciousness lay upon her such as
+her light and elastic spirit had never known.
+She found herself morbidly observant of
+minute details; the pattern of the tablecloth;
+the crest upon the spoons; the
+curious red knobs upon Miss Smeardon&rsquo;s fingers,
+and the odd mincing way she held her
+fork; the almost athletic efforts of the butler
+when he raised an enormous silver dish-cover,
+and the curiously frugal and unappetizing
+nature of the viand it disclosed. The
+wizened face of the lap-dog, too, peering over
+the table&rsquo;s edge, out of Miss Smeardon&rsquo;s lap,
+might have acquired its distrustful expression,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_38' name='page_38'></a>38</span>
+Robinette thought, from habitual
+doubts as to whether enough to eat would
+ever be his good fortune. The meal ended
+with the ceremonious presentation to each
+lady in turn, of three wrinkled apples and
+two crooked bananas in a probably priceless
+dish of Crown Derby. Then the procession
+re-formed and returned to the drawing room.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;And the evening and the morning were
+the first day!&rdquo; sighed Robinette to herself
+in the chilly solitude of her own room. How
+often could she endure the repetition?</p>
+<hr class='toprule' />
+<div class='chsp'>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_39' name='page_39'></a>39</span>
+<a name='V_AT_WITTISHAM' id='V_AT_WITTISHAM'></a>
+<h2>V</h2>
+<h3>AT WITTISHAM</h3>
+</div>
+<p>&ldquo;May I have a fire to dress by, Benson?&rdquo;
+Robinette asked rather timidly that night,
+her head just peeping above the blankets.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;<i>Fire</i>?&rdquo; returned Benson, in italics, with
+an interrogation point.</p>
+<p>Robinette longed to spell the word and
+ask Benson if it had ever come to her notice
+before, but she stifled her desire and
+said, &ldquo;I am quite ashamed, Benson, but you
+see I am not used to the climate yet. If
+you&rsquo;ll pamper me just a little at the beginning,
+I shall behave better presently.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I will give orders for a fire night and
+morning, certainly, ma&rsquo;am,&rdquo; said Benson. &ldquo;I
+did not offer it because our ladies never have
+one in their bedrooms at this time of the
+year. Mrs. de Tracy is very strong and
+active for her age.&rdquo;</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_40' name='page_40'></a>40</span></div>
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s my opinion she&rsquo;s a w&rsquo;eedler,&rdquo; remarked
+Benson at the housekeeper&rsquo;s luncheon
+table. &ldquo;She asks for what she wants like
+a child. She has a pretty way with her, I
+can&rsquo;t deny that, but is she a w&rsquo;eedler?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Wheedler or not, Robinette got her fire to
+dress by, and so was able to come down in
+the morning feeling tolerably warm. It was
+well that she was, for the cold tea and tough
+toast of the de Tracy breakfast had little
+in them to warm the heart. Conversation
+languished during the meal, and after a
+walk to the stables Robinette was thankful
+to return to her own room again on the pretext
+of writing letters. There she piled up
+the fire, drew her chair close up to the hearth,
+and employed herself until noon, when she
+took her embroidery and joined her aunt in
+the drawing room. Luncheon was announced
+at half past one, and immediately after it
+Mrs. de Tracy and Miss Smeardon went to
+their respective bedrooms for rest.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Are there indeed only twelve hours in
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_41' name='page_41'></a>41</span>
+the day?&rdquo; Robinette asked herself desperately
+as she heard the great, solemn-toned
+hall clock strike two. It seemed quite impossible
+that it could be only two; the
+whole afternoon had still to be accounted
+for, and how? Well, she might look over
+her clothes again, re-arranging them in
+all their dainty variety in the wardrobe
+and drawers; she might put tissue paper
+into the sleeves of each bodice, smoothing
+out every crease; she might even find that
+some tiny repairs were needed! There were
+three new hats, and several pairs of new
+gloves to be tried on; her accounts must be
+made up, her cheque book balanced; yet
+all these things would take but a short time.
+Then the hall clock struck three.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I must go out,&rdquo; she thought.</p>
+<p>Coming through the hall from her room
+Robinette met her aunt and Miss Smeardon
+descending the staircase.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;We are driving this afternoon,&rdquo; said
+Mrs. de Tracy, &ldquo;would you not like to come
+with us?&rdquo;</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_42' name='page_42'></a>42</span></div>
+<p>The thought turned Robinette to stone:
+she had visited the stables, and seen the
+coachman lead what seemed to her a palsied
+horse out into the yard. Her sympathetic allusion
+to the supposed condition of the steed
+had not been well received, for the man had
+given her to understand that this was the
+one horse of the establishment, but Robinette
+had vowed never to sit behind it.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I think I&rsquo;d rather walk, Aunt de Tracy,&rdquo;
+she said, &ldquo;I&rsquo;d like to go and see my mother&rsquo;s
+old nurse, Mrs. Prettyman. Can I do any
+errands for you?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;None, thank you. To go to Wittisham
+you have to cross the ferry, remember.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Oh! that must be simple! you may be
+sure I shall not lose myself!&rdquo; said Robinette.</p>
+<p>Both the older women looked curiously
+at her for a moment; then Mrs. de Tracy
+said:&ndash;&ndash;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;You will kindly not use the public ferry;
+the footman will row you across to Wittisham
+at any hour you may mention to him.&rdquo;</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_43' name='page_43'></a>43</span></div>
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, but Aunt de Tracy, I&rsquo;d really prefer
+the public ferry.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Nonsense, impossible; the footman shall
+row you,&rdquo; said Mrs. de Tracy with finality.</p>
+<p>Robinette said nothing; she hated the
+idea of the footman, but it seemed inevitable.
+&ldquo;Am I never to get away from their dullnesses?&rdquo;
+she thought. &ldquo;A public ferry
+sounds quite lively in place of being rowed
+by William!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>When the shore was reached, however,
+Robinette discovered that the passage across
+the river in a leaky little boat, rowed by a
+painfully inexperienced servant, was almost
+too much for her. To see him fumbling
+with the oars, made her tingle to take them
+herself; she could not abide the irritation
+of a return journey with such a boatman.
+This determination was hastened when she
+saw that instead of the three-decker steamer
+of her native land, the ferry at Wittisham
+was just like an ordinary row-boat; that
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_44' name='page_44'></a>44</span>
+one rang a bell hanging from a picturesque
+tower; that a nice young man with a sprig
+of wallflower in his cap rowed one across,
+and that each passenger handed out a penny
+to him on the farther side.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;How enchantingly quaint!&rdquo; she cried.
+&ldquo;William, you can go home; I shall return
+by the public ferry.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>William looked surprised but only replied,
+&ldquo;Very good, ma&rsquo;am.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>On warm summer afternoons the tiny square
+of Mrs. Prettyman&rsquo;s garden made as delightful
+a place to sit in as one could wish. There
+was sunshine on the turf, and a thin shade
+was cast by the drooping boughs of the
+plum tree; just enough to shelter old eyes
+from the glare. When she was very tired
+with doing her work Mrs. Prettyman would
+totter out into the garden. She was getting
+terribly lame now, yet afraid to acknowledge
+it, knowing, with the desperate wisdom of
+poverty, that once to give in, very often
+ended in giving up altogether. So her lameness
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_45' name='page_45'></a>45</span>
+was &lsquo;blamed on the weather,&rsquo; &lsquo;blamed
+on scrubbing the floor,&rsquo; blamed on anything
+rather than the tragic, incurable fact
+of old age. This afternoon her rheumatism
+had been specially bad: she had an inclination
+to cry out when she rose from her
+chair, and every step was an effort. Yet the
+sunshine was tempting; it warmed old and
+aching bones through and through as no fire
+could do; and Mrs. Prettyman thought she
+must make the effort to go out.</p>
+<p>She had just arrived at this conclusion,
+when a tap came to the door.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;That you, Mrs. Darke?&rdquo; she called out
+in her piping old voice. &ldquo;Come in, me dear,
+I&rsquo;m that stiff with me rheumatics to-day I
+can&rsquo;t scarce rise out of me chair.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s not Mrs. Darke,&rdquo; said Robinette,
+stooping to enter through the tiny doorway.
+&ldquo;It&rsquo;s a stranger, Mrs. Prettyman, come all
+the way from America to see you.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Lor&rsquo; now, Miss, whoever may you be?&rdquo;
+the old woman cried, making as if she would
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_46' name='page_46'></a>46</span>
+rise from her chair. But Robinette caught
+her arm and made her sit still.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t get up; please sit right there where
+you are, and I&rsquo;ll take this chair beside you.
+Now, Mrs. Prettyman, look at me hard, and
+tell me if you know who I am.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>The old woman gazed into Robinette&rsquo;s
+face, and then a light seemed to break over her.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s Miss Cynthia&rsquo;s daughter you are!&rdquo;
+she cried. &ldquo;My Miss Cynthia as went and
+married in America!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>She caught Robinette&rsquo;s white ringed hands
+in hers, and Robinette bent down and kissed
+the wrinkled old face.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I know that mother loved you, Nurse,&rdquo;
+she said. &ldquo;She used often, often to tell me
+about you.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>After the fashion of old people, Mrs.
+Prettyman was too much moved to speak.
+Her face worked all over, and then slow tears
+began to run down her furrowed cheeks.
+She got up from her chair and walked across
+the uneven floor, leaning on a stick.</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_47' name='page_47'></a>47</span></div>
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve something here, Miss, I&rsquo;ve something
+here; something I never parts with,&rdquo;
+she said. A tall chest of drawers stood
+against the wall, and the old woman began
+to search among its contents as she spoke.
+At last she found a little kid shoe, laid away
+in a handkerchief.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;See here, Miss! here&rsquo;s my Miss Cynthia&rsquo;s
+shoe! &rsquo;T was tied on to my wedding
+coach the day I got married and left her.
+My &rsquo;usband &rsquo;e laughed at me cruel because
+I&rsquo;d have that shoe with me; but I&rsquo;ve kept
+it ever since.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Robinette came and stood beside her, and
+they both wept together over the silly little
+shoe.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I want to talk a great deal to you, Nurse;
+I want to tell you all about mother and
+father, and how they died,&rdquo; said Robinette
+through her tears. How strange that she
+should have to come to this cottage and to
+this poor old woman before she found anyone
+to whom she could speak of her beloved dead!
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_48' name='page_48'></a>48</span>
+Her heart was so full that she could scarcely
+speak. A crowd of memories rushed into her
+mind; last scenes and parting words; those
+innumerable unforgettable details that are
+printed once for all upon the heart that loves
+and feels.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;d like to tell you about it out of doors,
+Nurse dear,&rdquo; she said tearfully; &ldquo;can you
+come out under the plum tree in your garden?
+It&rsquo;s lovely there.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, dearie, yes, we&rsquo;ll come out under
+the plum tree, we will,&rdquo; echoed Mrs. Prettyman.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;See, Nursie, take my arm, I&rsquo;ll help you
+out into the warm sunshine,&rdquo; Robinette said.</p>
+<p>They progressed very slowly, the old
+woman leaning with all her weight upon the
+arm of her strong young helper. Then under
+the flickering shade of the tree they sat down
+together for their talk.</p>
+<p>So much to tell, so much to hear, the
+afternoon slipped away unknown to them,
+and still they were sitting there hand in hand
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_49' name='page_49'></a>49</span>
+talking and listening; sometimes crying a
+little, sometimes laughing; a queerly assorted
+couple, these new-made friends.</p>
+<p>But when all the recollections had been
+talked over and wept over, when Mrs. Prettyman
+had told Robinette, with the extraordinary
+detail that old people can put into their
+memories of long ago, all that she remembered
+of Cynthia de Tracy&rsquo;s childhood,
+then Robinette began to question the old
+woman about her own life. Was she comfortable?
+Was she tolerably well off? Or
+had she difficulty in making ends meet?</p>
+<p>To these questions Mrs. Prettyman made
+valiant answers: she had a fine spirit, and no
+wish to let a stranger see the skeleton in the
+cupboard. But Robinette&rsquo;s quick instinct
+pierced through the veil of well-meant bravery
+and touched the truth.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Nurse dear,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;you say you&rsquo;re
+comfortable, and well off, but you won&rsquo;t
+mind my telling you that I just don&rsquo;t quite
+believe you.&rdquo;</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_50' name='page_50'></a>50</span></div>
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, my dear heart, what&rsquo;s that you be
+sayin&rsquo;? callin&rsquo; of me a liar?&rdquo; chuckled the
+old woman fondly.</p>
+<p>Robinette rose from her seat on the bench
+and stood back to scrutinize the cottage. It
+was exquisitely picturesque, but this very
+picturesqueness constituted its danger; for
+the place was a perfect death trap. The crumbling
+cob-walls that had taken on those wonderful
+patches of green colour, soaked in the
+damp like a sponge: the irregularity of the
+thatched roof that looked so well, admitted
+trickles of rain on wet nights; and the uneven
+mud floor of the kitchen revealed the
+fact that the cottage had been built without
+any proper foundation. The door did not
+fit, and in cold weather a knife-like draught
+must run in under it. All this Robinette&rsquo;s
+quick, practical glance took in; she gave
+a little nod or two, murmuring to herself,
+&ldquo;A new thatch roof, a new door, a new
+cement floor.&rdquo; Then she came and sat down
+again.</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_51' name='page_51'></a>51</span></div>
+<p>&ldquo;Tell me now, how much do you have to
+live on every week, Nurse?&rdquo; she asked.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, Miss Robinette&ndash;&ndash;ma&rsquo;am, I should
+say&ndash;&ndash;&rsquo;t is wonderful how I gets on; and
+then there&rsquo;s the plum tree&ndash;&ndash;just see the
+flourish on it, Missie dear! &rsquo;T will have a
+crop o&rsquo; plums come autumn will about drag
+down the boughs! I don&rsquo;t know how
+&rsquo;t would be with me without I had the plum
+tree.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Do you really make something by it?&rdquo;
+Robinette asked.</p>
+<p>The old woman chuckled again. &ldquo;To be
+sure I makes; makes jam every autumn; a
+sight o&rsquo; jam. Come inside again, me dear, an&rsquo;
+see me jam cupboard and you&rsquo;ll know.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>She hobbled into the kitchen, and opened
+the door of a wall press in the corner. There,
+row above row stood a solid phalanx of jam
+pots; it seemed as if a whole town might
+be supplied out of Mrs. Prettyman&rsquo;s cupboard.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&rsquo;T is well thought of, me jam,&rdquo; the old
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_52' name='page_52'></a>52</span>
+woman said, grinning with pleasure. &ldquo;I be
+very careful in the preparing of &rsquo;en; gets
+a penny the pound more for me jam than
+others, along of its being so fine.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Robinette was charmed to see that here
+Mrs. Prettyman had a reliable source of
+income, however slender.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;How much do you reckon to get from it
+every year?&rdquo; she asked.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Going five pounds, dear: four pounds
+fifteen shillings and sixpence, last autumn;
+and please the Lord there&rsquo;s a better crop
+this season, so &rsquo;t will be the clear five pounds.
+Oh! I do be loving me plum tree like a
+friend, I do.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>They turned back into the sunshine again,
+that Robinette should admire this wonderful
+tree-friend once more. She stood under its
+shadow with great delight, as the Bible says,
+gazing up through the intricate network of
+boughs and blossom to the cloudless blue
+above her.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s heavenly, Nurse, just heavenly!&rdquo;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_53' name='page_53'></a>53</span>
+she sighed as she came and sat down beside
+the old woman again.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Then there&rsquo;s me duck too, Missie!
+Lard, now I don&rsquo;t know how I&rsquo;d be without
+I had me duck. Duckie I calls &rsquo;er and
+Duckie she is; company she is, too, to me
+mornin&rsquo;s, with her &lsquo;Quack, Quack,&rsquo; under
+the winder.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>So the old woman prattled on, giving
+Robinette all the history of her life, with its
+tiny joys and many struggles, till it seemed
+to the listener that she had always known
+Mrs. Prettyman, the plum tree, and her duck&ndash;&ndash;known
+them and loved them, all three.</p>
+<hr class='toprule' />
+<div class='chsp'>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_54' name='page_54'></a>54</span>
+<a name='VI_MARK_LAVENDAR' id='VI_MARK_LAVENDAR'></a>
+<h2>VI</h2>
+<h3>MARK LAVENDAR</h3>
+</div>
+<p>Hundreds of years ago the street of
+Stoke Revel village, if street it could be
+called, and the tower of the ancient church,
+must have looked very much the same as
+now.</p>
+<p>On such a day, when the oak woods were
+budding, and the English birds singing, and
+the spring sun was hot in a clear sky, a
+knight riding down the steep lane would
+have taken the same turn to the left on his
+way to the Manor. Were he a young man,
+he would probably have reined up his horse
+for a moment, and looked, as Mark Lavendar
+did now, at the blithe landscape before
+him. Only then the accessories would have
+been so different: the great horse, somewhat
+tired by long hours of riding, the armour
+that glinted in the sun, the casque pushed
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_55' name='page_55'></a>55</span>
+up to let the fresh air play upon the rider&rsquo;s
+face; such a figure must have often stood
+just at that turn where the lane wound up
+the little hill. The landscape was the same,
+and young men in all ages are very much the
+same, so&ndash;&ndash;although this one had merely arrived
+by train, and walked from the nearest
+station&ndash;&ndash;Mark Lavendar stopped and leaned
+over the low wall when he came to the turn
+of the road, and looked down at the river.</p>
+<p>He boasted no war horse nor armour;
+none of the trappings of the older world
+added to his distinction, and yet he was a
+very pleasing figure of a man.</p>
+<p>The gaunt brown face was quite hard and
+solemn in expression; ugly, but not commonplace,
+for as a friend once said of him,
+&ldquo;His eyes seem to belong to another
+person.&rdquo; It was not this, but only that the
+eyes, blue as Saint Veronica&rsquo;s flower, showed
+suddenly a different aspect of the man, an
+unexpected tenderness that flatly contradicted
+the hard features of his face. He
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_56' name='page_56'></a>56</span>
+looked very nice when he laughed too, so
+that most people when they had found out
+the trick, tried to make him laugh as often
+as possible.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;What a day! Heavens! what a lovely
+day,&rdquo; he said to himself as he leaned on the
+low wall. &ldquo;I want to be courting Amaryllis
+somewhere in these woods, and instead
+I&rsquo;ve got to go and talk business with
+that old woman;&rdquo; and he looked ruefully towards
+the Manor House; for this was not
+his first visit by any means, and he knew
+only too well the hours of boredom that
+awaited him. Mrs. de Tracy, strange to say,
+had a soft side towards this young man,
+the son of her family solicitor. Mark was
+invariably sent down by his father when
+there was any business to be transacted at
+Stoke Revel. The older man was fond of a
+good dinner, and hated circumlocution about
+affairs, and it was only when a death in the
+family, or some other crucial event, made his
+presence absolutely necessary that he came
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_57' name='page_57'></a>57</span>
+down himself. Mark was sacrificed instead,
+and many a wearisome hour had he spent in
+that house. However on this occasion he had
+been glad enough to get out of London for
+a while; the country was divine, and even
+the de Tracy business did not occupy the
+whole day. There would be hours on the
+river; afternoons spent riding along those
+green lanes through which he had just passed,
+where the banks were starred with little vivid
+flowers. Mark had an almost childish delight
+in such beauty. He had loitered on the way
+along, flung himself down on a bank for
+a few minutes, and burying his face amongst
+the flowers, listened with a smile upon his
+mouth to the birds that chirruped in the
+branches of the oak above him.</p>
+<p>Now he leaned on the low wall, and gazed
+at the shining reaches of the river. &ldquo;What
+a day!&rdquo; he said to himself again. &ldquo;What a
+divine afternoon&rdquo;; then he added quite simply,
+&ldquo;I wish I were in love; everyone under
+eighty ought to be, on such a day!&rdquo;</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_58' name='page_58'></a>58</span></div>
+<p>Even at the age of thirty most men of any
+personal attractions have some romantic
+memories. Lavendar had his share, but somehow
+that morning he was disconcertingly
+candid to himself. It may have been the sudden
+change from London air and London
+noise; something in the clear transparency
+of the April day, in the flute-like melody of
+the birds&rsquo; song, in the dream-like beauty of
+the scene before him, that made all the moth
+and rust that had consumed the remembrances
+of the past more apparent. There was
+little of the treasure of heaven there,&ndash;&ndash;it
+had mostly been nonsense or vanity or worse.
+He wanted, oh, how he wanted, to be able
+just for once to surrender himself to what
+was absolutely ideal; to have a memory when
+he was an old man, of something that had
+no fault in it.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;No, I&rsquo;ve never been really in love,&rdquo; he
+said to himself, &ldquo;I may as well confess it;
+and I daresay I never shall be, but marry on
+an impulse like most men, make the best of
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_59' name='page_59'></a>59</span>
+it afterwards, and have a sort of middle-class
+happiness in the end of the day.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;One, Two, Three,&rdquo; said the church clock
+from the ancient tower, booming out the
+note, and Lavendar started, and rubbed his
+hands across his dazzled eyes. &ldquo;Luncheon is
+a late meal in that awful house, if I remember,&rdquo;
+he said, &ldquo;but it must be over by this
+time. I really must go in. Let me collect my
+thoughts; the business is &lsquo;just things in
+general,&rsquo; but especially the sale of some cottage
+or other and the land it stands on. Yes,
+yes, I remember; the papers are all right.
+Now for the old ladies.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>He made his entrance into the Manor
+drawing room a few minutes later with a
+charming smile.</p>
+<p>Mrs. de Tracy actually walked a few steps
+to meet him, with a greeting less frigid than
+usual.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m glad to see you, Mark,&rdquo; said she.
+&ldquo;Bates said you preferred to walk from the
+station.&rdquo;</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_60' name='page_60'></a>60</span></div>
+<p>Mark turned his kind eyes on Miss Smeardon,
+and held her knuckly hand in his own
+almost tenderly. It was a very bad habit,
+which had led to some mischief in the past,
+that when he was sorry for a thing he wanted
+to be very kind to it; and this made him
+unusually pleasing, and dangerous!</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Business first and pleasure afterwards;
+excellent maxim!&rdquo; he said to himself half an
+hour later, as he removed the dust of travel
+from his person, preparatory to an interview
+with Mrs. de Tracy. &ldquo;Now for it!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>He liked the drawing room at Stoke Revel
+and always wished it had other occupants
+when he entered it. This afternoon it seemed
+particularly agreeable, the open windows letting
+in the slanting sunshine and a strong
+scent of jonquils and sweet briar.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Well, Mrs. de Tracy,&rdquo; said Mark, &ldquo;I
+am my father&rsquo;s spokesman, you know, and
+we have serious business to discuss. But tell
+me first, how&rsquo;s my young friend Carnaby?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Thank you; my grandson has a severe
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_61' name='page_61'></a>61</span>
+attack of quinsy,&rdquo; replied Mrs. de Tracy.
+&ldquo;He is to have sick-leave whenever the
+Endymion returns to Portsmouth.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Oh! Carnaby will make short work of
+an attack of quinsy,&rdquo; said Lavendar, genially.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;It would please me better,&rdquo; retorted Mrs.
+de Tracy severely, &ldquo;if my grandson showed
+signs of mental improvement as well as
+bodily health. His letters are ill-spelled, ill-written,
+and ill-expressed. They are the
+letters of a school-boy.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;He is not much more than a school-boy,
+is he?&rdquo; suggested Mark, &ldquo;only fifteen!
+The mental improvement will come; too
+soon, for my taste. I like Carnaby as he is!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>The young man had seated himself beside
+his hostess in an attitude of perfect ease.
+Though bored by his present environment,
+he was entirely at home in it. Just because
+he greatly dared towards her and was never
+afraid, Mrs. de Tracy liked him. With the
+mere flicker of an eyelid, she dismissed the
+attendant Smeardon.</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_62' name='page_62'></a>62</span></div>
+<p>&ldquo;There has been an offer for the land at
+Wittisham,&rdquo; Lavendar said, when they were
+alone.</p>
+<p>Mrs. de Tracy winced. &ldquo;That is no matter
+of congratulation with me,&rdquo; she said
+bleakly.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;But it is with us, for it is a most excellent
+one!&rdquo; returned the young man hardily.
+&ldquo;The firm has had the responsibility of advising
+the sale, which we consider absolutely
+unavoidable in the present financial condition
+of Stoke Revel. We have advertised
+for a year, and advertisement is costly. Now
+comes an offer of a somewhat peculiar kind,
+but sound enough.&rdquo; Lavendar here produced
+a bundle of documents tied with the traditional
+red tape. &ldquo;An artist,&rdquo; he continued,
+&ldquo;Waller, R. A.&ndash;&ndash;you know the name?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I do not,&rdquo; interpolated Mrs. de Tracy
+grimly.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Nevertheless, a well known painter,&rdquo;
+persisted Mark, &ldquo;and one, as it happens, of
+the orchard scenery of this part of England.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_63' name='page_63'></a>63</span>
+He has known Wittisham for a long time,
+and only last year he made a success with the
+painting of a plum tree which grows in
+front of one of the cottages. It was sold
+for a large sum, and, as a matter of sentiment,
+I suppose, Waller wishes to buy the
+cottage and make it into a summer retreat
+or studio for himself.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;He cannot buy it,&rdquo; said Mrs. de Tracy
+with the snort of a war horse.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;He cannot buy it apart from the land,&rdquo;
+insinuated Mark, &ldquo;but he is flush of cash
+and ready to buy the land too&ndash;&ndash;very nearly
+as much as we want to sell, and the bargain
+merely waits your consent. The sum that
+has been agreed upon is of the kind that a
+man in the height of his triumph offers for
+a fancy article. No such sum will ever be
+offered for land at Wittisham again; old orchard
+land, falling into desuetude as it is and
+covered with condemned cottages.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Mrs. de Tracy was sternly silent, and Mark
+awaited her next words with some curiosity.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_64' name='page_64'></a>64</span>
+He felt like a torturer drawing the tooth
+of a Jew in the good old days. This sale of
+land was a bitter pill to the widow, as it well
+might be, for it was the beginning of the
+end, as the de Tracy solicitors could have told
+you. There had been de Tracys of Stoke Revel
+since Queen Elizabeth&rsquo;s time, but there would
+not be de Tracys of Stoke Revel much longer,&ndash;&ndash;unless
+young Carnaby married an heiress
+when he came of age&ndash;&ndash;and that no de
+Tracy had ever done.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;The land across the river,&rdquo; Mrs. de Tracy
+said at last, &ldquo;was the first land the de Tracys
+held, but much of it went at the Restoration.
+Well, let this go too!&rdquo; she added
+harshly.</p>
+<p>Mark blessed himself that indecision was
+no part of the lady&rsquo;s character and sighed
+with relief. &ldquo;My father would like to know,&rdquo;
+he said, &ldquo;what you propose to do with regard
+to the old woman who is the present tenant
+of the cottage.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Elizabeth Prettyman is not a tenant,&rdquo;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_65' name='page_65'></a>65</span>
+said Mrs. de Tracy coldly. &ldquo;She is practically
+a pensioner, since she lives rent-free.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;True, I forgot,&rdquo; said Mark soothingly.
+&ldquo;I beg your pardon.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Do not suppose that it is by my wish,&rdquo;
+continued Mrs. de Tracy coldly. &ldquo;I have never
+approved of supporting the peasantry in idleness.
+This woman happened to be for some
+years nurse to Cynthia de Tracy, my husband&rsquo;s
+younger sister, who deeply offended
+her family by marrying an American named
+Bean. I see no claim in that to a pension of
+any kind.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;But your husband saw it, I imagine,&rdquo;
+interpolated Mark quietly, and Mrs. de Tracy
+gave him a fierce look, which he met, however,
+without a sign of flinching.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;My husband had a mistaken idea that
+Prettyman was poor when she became a
+widow,&rdquo; said Mrs. de Tracy. &ldquo;On the contrary
+she had relations quite well able to
+support her, I believe. I never cross the
+river, in these days, and the matter has escaped
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_66' name='page_66'></a>66</span>
+my memory, so that things have been
+left as they were.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;No great loss,&rdquo; said Mark candidly,
+&ldquo;since the cottage in its present state is utterly
+unfit for any tenant. As to Prettyman,
+is it your intention to give her notice to
+quit?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Unquestionably, since the cottage is
+needed,&rdquo; answered Mrs. de Tracy. &ldquo;She has
+occupied it too long as it is.&rdquo; The speaker&rsquo;s
+lips closed like a vice over the words.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;God pity Elizabeth Prettyman!&rdquo; ejaculated
+Lavendar to himself. &ldquo;Might is Right
+still, apparently, at Stoke Revel!&rdquo; Aloud
+he merely said, &ldquo;A weak deference to public
+opinion was never a foible of yours, Mrs. de
+Tracy; but I think I would advise you to
+consider some question of compensation to
+Mrs. Prettyman for the loss of the cottage.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;If you can show me that the woman has
+any legal claim upon the estate, I will consider
+the question, but not otherwise,&rdquo; said
+Mrs. de Tracy with such an air of finality
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_67' name='page_67'></a>67</span>
+that Lavendar was inclined to let the matter
+drop for the moment.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;The firm,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;will communicate
+your wishes to Mrs. Prettyman by letter.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Prettyman cannot read,&rdquo; snapped Mrs.
+de Tracy. &ldquo;She must be told, and the
+sooner the better.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Well, Mrs. de Tracy,&rdquo; said the young
+man with a short laugh, &ldquo;provided it is not
+I who have to tell her, well and good. I
+warn you the task would not be to my taste
+unless compensation were offered her.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s features hardened to a
+degree unusual even to her.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I am apparently less tender-hearted than
+you,&rdquo; she said sardonically. &ldquo;I shall, if I
+think fit, deal with Prettyman in person.&rdquo;
+The subject was dropped, and Lavendar rose
+to leave the room, but Mrs. de Tracy detained
+him.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;The Admiral&rsquo;s niece, Mrs. David Loring,
+is my guest at present,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;It happens
+that she has crossed the river to Wittisham
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_68' name='page_68'></a>68</span>
+and is paying a visit to Prettyman. I should
+be obliged, Mark, if you would row across
+and fetch her back, as by some misunderstanding,
+my servant has not waited for her.
+You are an oarsman, I know.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>The young man consented with alacrity.
+&ldquo;I shall kill two birds with one stone,&rdquo; he
+said cheerfully, &ldquo;I shall visit the famous plum
+tree cottage and see Mrs. Prettyman for myself;
+and I shall have the privilege of executing
+your commission as Mrs. Loring&rsquo;s escort.
+It sounds a very agreeable one!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;You have no time to lose,&rdquo; said Mrs. de
+Tracy with a glance at the clock.</p>
+<hr class='toprule' />
+<div class='chsp'>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_69' name='page_69'></a>69</span>
+<a name='VII_A_CROSSEXAMINATION' id='VII_A_CROSSEXAMINATION'></a>
+<h2>VII</h2>
+<h3>A CROSS-EXAMINATION</h3>
+</div>
+<p>Lavendar escaped from the house, where,
+even in the smoke-room, it seemed unregenerate
+to light a cigar, and took the path to the
+shore.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I wonder if one woman staying in a house
+full of men would find life as depressing as
+I do cooped up here under precisely opposite
+circumstances,&rdquo; he thought, as he made his
+way through the little churchyard. &ldquo;It cannot
+be the atmosphere of femininity that
+bores me, however, for Mrs. de Tracy has a
+strongly masculine flavour and Miss Smeardon
+is as nearly neuter as a person can
+be.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>He took a couple of oars from the boat-house
+as he passed, and going to the little
+landing stage untied the boat and started for
+the farther shore.</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_70' name='page_70'></a>70</span></div>
+<p>It was good to feel the water parting under
+his vigorous strokes and delightful to exert
+his strength after the hours of stifled irritation
+at the Manor. It was a bright, calm close
+of day, when in the rarefied evening air each
+sound began to acquire the sharpness that
+marks the hour. He could hear the rush of
+the waters behind the boat and the voices
+of the fishers farther up the stream. As he
+drew up to the bank and took in his oars
+the stillness was so great that you could have
+heard a pin fall, when suddenly from a tree
+above him a bird broke into one little finished
+song and then was still, as if it had uttered
+all it wished to say.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;What a heavenly evening!&rdquo; thought
+Lavendar, &ldquo;and what a lovely spot! That must
+be the cottage just above me. Mrs. de Tracy
+said I should know it by the plum tree. Ah,
+there it is!&rdquo; Tying up the boat he sprang
+up the steps and walked along the flagged
+path. The plum tree these last few days had
+begun to look its fairest. The blossoms did
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_71' name='page_71'></a>71</span>
+not yet conceal the leaves, but it was a very
+bower of beauty already. There was a little
+table spread for tea under its branches, and
+an old woman like thousands of old women
+in thousands of cottages all over England,
+was sitting behind it, precisely as if she had
+been a coloured illustration in a summer
+number of an English weekly. She was on
+the typical bench in the typical attitude, but
+instead of the typical old man in a clean smock
+frock who should have occupied the end of
+the bench, there sat beside her a distinctly
+lovely young woman. What struck Lavendar
+was the wealth of colour she brought into the
+picture: goldy brown hair, brown tweed dress,
+with a cape of blue cloth slipping off her
+shoulders, and a brown toque with a pert upstanding
+quill that seemed to express spirit
+and pluck, and a merry heart. His quick
+glance took in the little hands that held the
+withered old ones. Both heads were bowed
+and in the brown tweed lap was a child&rsquo;s shoe,&ndash;&ndash;a
+wee, worn, fat shoe. Beside it lay an absurd
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_72' name='page_72'></a>72</span>
+bit of crumpled, tear-soaked embroidery that
+had been intended to do duty as a handkerchief
+but had evidently proved quite unseaworthy.</p>
+<p>Waddling about on the flags close to the
+little table was a large fat duck wearing a
+look of inexpressible greed. &ldquo;<i>Quack, quack,
+quack</i>!&rdquo; it said, waddling off angrily as
+Lavendar approached.</p>
+<p>At the sound of the duck&rsquo;s raucous voice
+both the women looked up.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Is this Mrs. Prettyman&rsquo;s cottage,
+ma&rsquo;am?&rdquo; Lavendar asked with his charming
+smile.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, sir, &rsquo;t is indeed, and who may you
+be, if I may be so bold as to ask?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m Mr. Lavendar, Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s lawyer,
+Mrs. Prettyman. I&rsquo;m come to do some
+business at Stoke Revel,&rdquo; he added, for the
+old face had clouded over, and Mrs. Prettyman&rsquo;s
+whole expression changed to one of
+timid mistrust. &ldquo;I really was sent by Mrs. de
+Tracy,&rdquo; he went on, turning to Robinette,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_73' name='page_73'></a>73</span>
+&ldquo;to take you home; Mrs. Loring, isn&rsquo;t
+it?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, I am Mrs. Loring,&rdquo; she said, frankly
+holding out her hand to him. &ldquo;I knew you
+were expected at Stoke Revel, but I sent the
+footman back myself. He spoils the scenery
+and the river altogether.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve got a boat down there; Mrs. de
+Tracy doesn&rsquo;t quite like your taking the
+ferry; may I have the honour of rowing
+you across? My orders were to bring you
+back as soon as possible.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m blest if I hurry,&rdquo; was his unspoken
+comment as Robinette gaily agreed, and, having
+bidden good-bye to the old woman, with a
+quick caress that astonished him a good deal,
+she laid down the little shoe gently upon the
+bench, and turned to accompany him to the
+boat.</p>
+<p>The river was like a looking-glass; the air
+like balm. &ldquo;We&rsquo;ll take some time getting
+across, against the tide,&rdquo; said Lavendar reflectively,
+as he resolved that the little voyage
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_74' name='page_74'></a>74</span>
+should be prolonged to its fullest possible
+extent. He was not going into the Manor
+a moment earlier than he could help, when
+this charming person was sitting opposite to
+him. So this was Mrs. Loring! How different
+from the stout middle-aged lady whom
+Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s words had conjured up when
+he set out to find her!</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Old Mrs. Prettyman was my mother&rsquo;s
+nurse,&rdquo; Robinette remarked as Lavendar
+dipped his oars gently into the stream and began
+to row. &ldquo;I went to see her feeling quite
+grown up, and she seemed to consider me
+still a child; I was feeling about four years
+old at the moment when you appeared and
+woke me to the real world again.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>She had dried her eyes now and had pulled
+her hat down so as to shade her face, but
+Lavendar could see the traces of her weeping,
+and the dear little ineffectual rag of a
+handkerchief was still in one hand.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;What on earth was she crying about?&rdquo;
+he thought, as with lowered eyes he rowed
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_75' name='page_75'></a>75</span>
+very slowly across, only just keeping the boat&rsquo;s
+head against the current, and glancing now
+and then at the young woman.</p>
+<p>Was it possible that this lovely person was
+going to be his fellow-guest in that dull
+house? &ldquo;My word! but she&rsquo;s pretty! and
+what were the tears about ... and the
+little shoe? Did it belong to a child of her
+own? Can she be a widow, I wonder,&rdquo; said
+Lavendar to himself.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I often think,&rdquo; he said suddenly, raising
+his head, &ldquo;that when two people meet for the
+first time as utter strangers to each other,
+they should be encouraged, not forbidden, to
+ask plain questions. It may be my legal training,
+but I&rsquo;d like all conversation to begin in
+that way. As a child I was constantly reproved
+for my curiosity, especially when I once
+asked a touchy old gentleman, &lsquo;Which is
+your glass eye? The one that moves, or the
+one that stands still?&rsquo;&rdquo;</p>
+<p>The tears had dried, the hat was pushed
+back again, the young woman&rsquo;s face broke
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_76' name='page_76'></a>76</span>
+into an April smile that matched the day and
+the weather.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, come, let us do it,&rdquo; she exclaimed.
+&ldquo;I&rsquo;d love to play it like a new game: we
+know nothing at all about each other, any
+more than if we had dropped from the moon
+into the boat together. Oh! do be quick!
+We&rsquo;ve so little time; the river is quite narrow;
+who&rsquo;s to open the ball?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll begin, by right of my profession;
+put the witness in the box, please.&ndash;&ndash;What
+is your name, madam?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Robinette Loring,&rdquo; she said demurely,
+clasping her hands on her knee, an almost
+childlike delight in the new game dimpling
+the corners of her mouth from time to time.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;What is your age, madam?&rdquo; Lavendar
+hesitated just for a moment before putting
+this question.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I refuse to answer; you must guess.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Contempt of Court&ndash;&ndash;&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Well, go on; I&rsquo;m twenty-two and six
+weeks.&rdquo;</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_77' name='page_77'></a>77</span></div>
+<p>&ldquo;Thank you, you are remarkably well preserved.
+I can hardly believe&ndash;&ndash;those six-weeks!
+What nationality?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;American, of course, or half and half;
+with an English mother and American ideas.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Thank you. Where is your present place
+of residence?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Stoke Revel Manor House.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;What is the duration of the visit?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Fixed at a month, but may be shortened
+at any time for bad behaviour.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Your purpose in coming to Stoke Revel?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;A Sentimental Journey, in search of
+fond relations.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Have you found these relations?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve found them; but the fondness is still
+to seek.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Have you left your family in America?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I have no one belonging to me in the
+world,&rdquo; she answered simply, and her bright
+face clouded suddenly.</p>
+<p>There was a moment&rsquo;s rather embarrassed
+silence. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s getting to be a sad game&rdquo;;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_78' name='page_78'></a>78</span>
+she said. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s my turn now. I&rsquo;ll be the
+cross-examiner, but not having had your
+legal training, I&rsquo;ll tell you a few facts about
+this witness to begin with. He&rsquo;s a lawyer; I
+know that already. Your Christian name,
+sir?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Mark.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Mark Lavendar. &lsquo;Mark the perfect
+man.&rsquo; Where have I heard that; in Pope
+or in the Bible? Thank you; very good;
+your age is between thirty and thirty-five,
+with a strong probability that it is thirty-three.
+Am I right?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Approximately, madam.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;You are unmarried, for married men
+don&rsquo;t play games like this; they are too
+sedate.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;You reassure me! Am I expected to acknowledge
+the truth of all your observations?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;You have only to answer my questions,
+sir.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I am unmarried, madam.&rdquo;</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_79' name='page_79'></a>79</span></div>
+<p>&ldquo;Your nationality?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;English of course. You don&rsquo;t count a
+French grandmother, I suppose?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Robinette clapped her hands. &ldquo;Of course
+I do; it accounts for this game; it just
+makes all the difference.&ndash;&ndash;Why have you
+come to Stoke Revel; couldn&rsquo;t you help
+it?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>A twinkle passed from the blue eyes to
+the brown ones.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I am here on business connected with
+the estate.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;For how long?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;An hour ago I thought all might be
+completed in a few days, but these affairs are
+sometimes unaccountably prolonged!&rdquo; (Was
+there another twinkle? Robinette could
+hardly say.) They were half-way across the
+river now. She leaned over and looked at herself
+in the water for a moment.</p>
+<p>Lavendar rested on his oars, and began to
+rub the palms of his hands, smiling a little
+to himself as he bent his head.</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_80' name='page_80'></a>80</span></div>
+<p>&ldquo;Yours is an odd Christian name,&rdquo; he
+said. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve never heard it before.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Then you haven&rsquo;t visited your National
+Gallery faithfully enough,&rdquo; said Mrs. Loring.
+&ldquo;Robinetta is one of the Sir Joshua pictures
+there, you know, and it was a great favourite
+of my mother&rsquo;s in her girlhood. Indeed she
+saved up her pin-money for nearly two years
+that she might have a good copy of it made
+to hang in her bedroom where she could
+look at it night and morning.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Then you were named after the picture?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I was named from the memory of it,&rdquo;
+said Robinette, trailing her hand through the
+clear water. &ldquo;Mother took nothing to America
+with her but my father&rsquo;s love (there was
+so much of that, it made up for all she left
+behind), so the picture was thousands of
+miles away when I was born. Mother told
+me that when I was first put into her arms
+she thought suddenly, as she saw my dark
+head, &lsquo;Here is my own Robinetta, in place of
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_81' name='page_81'></a>81</span>
+the one I left behind,&rsquo; and fell asleep straight
+away, full of joy and content.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;And they shortened the name to Robinette?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I was christened properly enough,&rdquo; she
+answered. &ldquo;It was the world that clipped
+my name&rsquo;s little wings; the world refuses
+to take me seriously; I can&rsquo;t think why,
+I&rsquo;m sure; I never regarded <i>it</i> as a joke.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;A joke,&rdquo; said Lavendar reflectively;
+&ldquo;it&rsquo;s a sort of grim one at times; and yet
+it&rsquo;s funny too,&rdquo; he said, suddenly raising his
+eyes.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Now that&rsquo;s the odd thing I was thinking
+as I looked at you just now,&rdquo; Robinette said
+frankly. &ldquo;You seem so deadly solemn until
+you look up and laugh&ndash;&ndash;and then you <i>do</i>
+laugh, you know. That&rsquo;s the French grandmother
+again! It was nice in her to marry
+your grandfather! It helped a lot!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>He laughed then certainly, and so did
+she, and then pointed out to him that
+they were being slowly drifted out of their
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_82' name='page_82'></a>82</span>
+course, and that if he meant to get across
+to the landing-stage he must row a little
+harder.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I have met American women casually;&rdquo;
+he said, bending to his oars, &ldquo;but I have
+never known one well.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s rather too bad to disturb the tranquillity
+of your impressions,&rdquo; returned Mrs.
+Loring composedly.</p>
+<p>Lavendar looked up with another twinkle.
+She seemed to provoke twinkles; he did not
+realize he had so many in stock.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;You mean American women are not
+painted in quite the right colours?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I suppose black <i>is</i> a colour?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Oh! I see your point of view!&rdquo; and
+Lavendar twinkled again.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I can tell you in five sentences exactly
+what you have heard about us. Will you say
+whether I am right? If you refuse I&rsquo;ll put
+you in the witness box and then you&rsquo;ll be
+forced to speak!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Very well; proceed.&rdquo;</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_83' name='page_83'></a>83</span></div>
+<p>&ldquo;One: We are clever, good conversationalists,
+and as cold as icicles.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Two: We dress beautifully and use extravagant
+means to compass our ends in this
+direction.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Three: We keep our overworked husbands
+under strict discipline.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Yes! I say,&ndash;&ndash;I don&rsquo;t like this game.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Neither do I, but it&rsquo;s very much
+played,&ndash;&ndash;&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Four: We prefer hotels to home life and
+don&rsquo;t bring up our children well.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Five: We interfere with the proper game
+laws by bagging English husbands instead
+of staying on our own preserves. That&rsquo;s about
+all, I think. Were not those rumours tolerably
+familiar to you in the ha&rsquo;penny papers
+and their human counterparts?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Lavendar was so amused by this direct
+storming of his opinion that he could hardly
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_84' name='page_84'></a>84</span>
+keep his laughter within bounds. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve
+heard one other criticism,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that
+you were all pretty and all had small feet and
+hands! I am now able to declare that to be
+a base calumny and to hope that all the
+others will prove just as false!&rdquo; Then Robinette
+laughed too; eyes, lips, cheeks! When
+Lavendar looked at her he wished that his
+father would keep him at Stoke Revel for a
+month.</p>
+<p>The sun was going down now, and the
+rising tide came swelling up from the sea,
+lifting itself and silently swelling the volume
+of the river, in a way that had something
+awful about it. The whole current of the
+great stream was against it, but behind was
+the force of the sea and so it filled and filled
+with hardly a ripple, as the heart is filled
+with a new desire. Up from the mouth of
+the river came a faint breeze bringing the
+taste of the ocean into the deeply wooded
+creeks. It had freshened into a little wind, as
+they drew up at the boat-house, that flapped
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_85' name='page_85'></a>85</span>
+Robinette&rsquo;s blue cape about her, and dyed
+the colour in her cheeks to a livelier tint.
+As they walked up the narrow pathway to the
+house a deep silence fell between them that
+neither attempted to break.</p>
+<p>At the top of the hill, she paused to take
+breath, and look across the river. It was
+half dark already there, on the other side in
+the deep shadow of the hill; and a lamp in
+the window of the cottage shone like a star
+beside the faintly green shape of the budding
+plum tree.</p>
+<p>As Robinette entered the door of the
+Manor House she took out her little gold-meshed
+purse and handed Mark Lavendar a
+penny.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s none too much,&rdquo; she said, meeting
+his astonished gaze with a smile. &ldquo;I should
+have had to pay it on the public ferry, and
+you were ever so much nicer than the footman!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Lavendar put the penny in his waistcoat
+pocket and has never spent it to this day. It
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_86' name='page_86'></a>86</span>
+is impossible to explain these things; one
+can only state them as facts. Another fact,
+too, that he suddenly remembered, when he
+went to his room, was, that the moment her
+personality touched his he was filled with
+curiosity about her. He had met hundreds
+of women and enjoyed their conversation,
+but seldom longed to know on the instant
+everything that had previously happened to
+them.</p>
+<hr class='toprule' />
+<div class='chsp'>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_87' name='page_87'></a>87</span>
+<a name='VIII_SUNDAY_AT_STOKE_REVEL' id='VIII_SUNDAY_AT_STOKE_REVEL'></a>
+<h2>VIII</h2>
+<h3>SUNDAY AT STOKE REVEL</h3>
+</div>
+<p>On Sundays, the Stoke Revel household
+was expected to appear at church in full
+strength, visitors included.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;We meet in the hall punctually at a
+quarter to eleven,&rdquo; it was Miss Smeardon&rsquo;s
+duty to announce to strangers. &ldquo;Mrs. de
+Tracy always prefers that the Stoke Revel
+guests should walk down together, as it sets
+a good example to the villagers.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;What Nelson said about going to church
+with Lady Hamilton!&rdquo; Lavendar had once
+commented, irrepressibly, but the allusion,
+rather fortunately, was lost upon Miss Smeardon.
+Mark began to picture the familiar
+Sunday scene to himself; Miss Smeardon in
+the hall at a quarter to eleven punctually,
+marshalling the church-goers; and Mrs. Loring,&ndash;&ndash;she
+would be late of course, and
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_88' name='page_88'></a>88</span>
+come fluttering downstairs in some bewitching
+combination of flowery hat and floating
+scarf that no one had ever seen before. What
+a lover&rsquo;s opportunity in this lateness, thought
+the young man to himself; but one could
+enjoy a walk to church in charming company,
+though something less than a lover.</p>
+<p>It was Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s custom, on Sunday
+mornings, to precede her household by half
+an hour in going to the sanctuary. No infirmities
+of old age had invaded her iron
+constitution, and it was nothing to her to
+walk alone to the church of Stoke Revel,
+steep though the hill was which led down
+through the ancient village to the yet more
+ancient edifice at its foot. During this solitary
+interval, Mrs. de Tracy visited her husband&rsquo;s
+tomb, and no one knew, or dared, or
+cared to enquire, what motive encouraged
+this pious action in a character so devoid of
+tenderness and sentiment. Was it affection,
+was it duty, was it a mere form, a tribute to
+the greatness of an owner of Stoke Revel,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_89' name='page_89'></a>89</span>
+such as a nation pays to a dead king? Who
+could tell?</p>
+<p>The graveyard of Stoke Revel owned a
+yew tree, so very, very old that the count of
+its years was lost and had become a fable or
+a fairy tale. It was twisted, gnarled, and low;
+and its long branches, which would have
+reached the ground, were upheld, like the
+arms of some dying patriarch, by supports,
+themselves old and moss-grown. Under the
+spreading of this ancient tree were graves,
+and from the carved, age-eaten porch of the
+church, a path led among them, under the
+green tunnel, out into the sunny space beyond
+it. The Admiral lay in a vault of which
+the door was at the side of the church, for no
+de Tracy, of course, could occupy a mere
+grave, like one of the common herd; and
+here walked the funereal figure of Mrs. de
+Tracy, fair weather or foul, nearly every
+Sunday in the year.</p>
+<p>In justice to Mrs. de Tracy, it must be
+made plain that with all her faults, small
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_90' name='page_90'></a>90</span>
+spite was not a part of her character. Yet to-day,
+her anger had been stirred by an incident
+so small that its very triviality annoyed
+her pride. It was Mark Lavendar&rsquo;s custom,
+when his visits to Stoke Revel included a
+Sunday, cheerfully to evade church-going.
+His Sundays in the country were few, he
+said, and he preferred to enjoy them in the
+temple of nature, generally taking a long
+walk before lunch. But to-day he had announced
+his intention of coming to service,
+and well Mrs. de Tracy, versed in men and
+in human nature, knew why. Robinette
+would be there, and Lavendar followed, as
+the bee follows a basket of flowers on a
+summer day. As Mrs. de Tracy, like the
+Stoic that she was, accepted all the inevitable
+facts of life,&ndash;&ndash;birth, death, love, hate (she
+had known them all in her day), she accepted
+this one also. But in that atrophy of every
+feeling except bitterness, that atrophy which
+is perhaps the only real solitude, the only real
+old age, her animosity was stirred. It was as
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_91' name='page_91'></a>91</span>
+though a dead branch upon some living tree
+was angry with the spring for breathing on
+it. As she returned, herself unseen in the
+shadow of the yew tree, she saw Lavendar
+and Robinette enter together under the lych-gate,
+the figure of the young woman touched
+with sunlight and colour, her lips moving,
+and Lavendar smiling in answer. In the
+clashing of the bells&ndash;&ndash;bells which shook the
+air, the earth, the ancient stones, the very
+nests upon the trees&ndash;&ndash;their voices were inaudible,
+but in their faces was a young happiness
+and hope to which the solitary woman
+could not blind herself.</p>
+<p>Presently in the lukewarm air within, Robinette
+was finding the church&rsquo;s immemorial
+smell of prayer-books, hassocks, decaying
+wood, damp stones, matting, school-children,
+and altar flowers, a harmonious and suggestive
+one if not pleasant. What an ancient air it
+was, she thought; breathed and re-breathed
+by slow generations of Stoke Revellers during
+their sleepy devotions! The very light that
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_92' name='page_92'></a>92</span>
+entered through the dim stained glass seemed
+old and dusty, it had seen so much during
+so many hundred years, seen so much, and
+found out so many secrets! Soon the clashing
+of the bells ceased and upon the still
+reverberating silence there broke the small,
+snoring noises of a rather ineffectual organ,
+while the amiable curate, Rev. Tobias Finch,
+made his appearance, and the service began.</p>
+<p>Mrs. de Tracy had entered the pew first,
+naturally; Miss Smeardon sat next, then
+Robinetta. Lavendar occupied the pew in
+front, alone, and through her half-closed
+eyelids Robinetta could see the line of his lean
+cheek and bony temple. He had not wished
+to sit there at all and he was so unresigned as
+to be badly in need of the soothing influences
+of Morning Prayer. Robinetta was beginning
+to wonder dreamily what manner of man this
+really was, behind his plain face and non-committal
+manner, when the muffled slam of a
+door behind, startled her, followed as it was
+by a quick step upon the matted aisle. Then
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_93' name='page_93'></a>93</span>
+without further warning, a big, broad-shouldered
+boy, in the uniform of a British midshipman,
+thrust himself into the pew beside
+her, hot and breathless after running hard.
+Mrs. Loring guessed at once that this must
+be Carnaby de Tracy, the young hopeful and
+heir of Stoke Revel of whom Mr. Lavendar
+had so often spoken, but the startling and unconventional
+nature of his appearance was
+not at all what one expected in a member of
+his family. Robinette stole more than one
+look at him as the offertory went round;
+a robust boy with a square chin, a fair face
+burnt red by the sun, a rollicking eye and an
+impudent nose; not handsome certainly, indeed
+quite plain, but he looked honest and
+strong and clean, and Robinette&rsquo;s frolicsome
+youth was drawn to his, all ready for fun.
+Carnaby hitched about a good deal, dropped
+his hymn-book, moved the hassock, took out
+his handkerchief, and on discovering a huge
+hole, turned crimson.</p>
+<p>Service over, the congregation shuffled out
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_94' name='page_94'></a>94</span>
+into the sunshine, and Mrs. de Tracy, after a
+characteristically cool and disapproving recognition
+of her grandson, became occupied
+with villagers. Lavendar made known young
+Carnaby to Mrs. David Loring, but the midshipman&rsquo;s
+light grey eyes had discovered the
+pretty face without any assistance.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;This lady is your American cousin, Carnaby,&rdquo;
+said Mark. &ldquo;Did you know you had
+one?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t think I did,&rdquo; answered the boy,
+&ldquo;but it&rsquo;s never too late to mend!&rdquo; He attempted
+a bow of finished grown-upness,
+failed somewhat, and melted at once into an engaging
+boyishness, under which his frank admiration
+of his new-found relative was not to
+be hidden. &ldquo;I say, are you stopping at Stoke
+Revel?&rdquo; he asked, as though the news were
+too good to be true. &ldquo;Jolly! Hullo&ndash;&ndash;&rdquo; he
+broke off with animation as the cassocked
+figure of the Rev. Tobias Finch fluttered out
+from the porch&ndash;&ndash;&ldquo;here&rsquo;s old Toby! Watch
+Miss Smeardon now! She expects to catch
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_95' name='page_95'></a>95</span>
+him, you know, but he says he&rsquo;s going to be a
+celly&ndash;&ndash;celly-what-d&rsquo;you-call-&rsquo;em?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Celibate?&rdquo; suggested Lavendar, with
+laughing eyes.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;The very word, thank you!&rdquo; said Carnaby.
+&ldquo;Yes: a celibate. Not so easily nicked,
+good old Toby&ndash;&ndash;you bet!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Do the clergymen over here always dress
+like that?&rdquo; inquired Robinetta, trying to
+suppress a tendency to laugh at his slang.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Cassock?&rdquo; said Carnaby. &ldquo;Toby wouldn&rsquo;t
+be seen without it. High, you know!
+Bicycles in it. Fact! Goes to bed in it, I
+believe.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Carnaby, Carnaby! Come away!&rdquo; said
+Lavendar. &ldquo;Restrain these flights of imagination!
+Don&rsquo;t you see how they shock Mrs.
+Loring?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Before the Manor was reached, Robinetta
+and Carnaby had sworn eternal friendship
+deeper than any cousinship, they both declared.
+They met upon a sort of platform of
+Stoke Revel, predestined to sympathy upon
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_96' name='page_96'></a>96</span>
+all its salient characteristics; two naughty
+children on a holiday.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Do you get enough to eat here?&rdquo; asked
+Carnaby in a hollow whisper, in the drawing-room
+before lunch.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Of course I have enough, Middy,&rdquo; answered
+Robinetta with unconscious reservation.
+She had rejected &ldquo;Carnaby&rdquo; at once
+as a name quite impossible: he was &ldquo;Middy&rdquo;
+to her almost from the first moment of their
+acquaintance.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Enough?&rdquo; he ejaculated, &ldquo;<i>I</i> don&rsquo;t! I&rsquo;d
+never be fed if it weren&rsquo;t for old Bates and
+Mrs. Smith and Cooky.&rdquo; Bates was the butler,
+Mrs. Smith the housekeeper, and Cooky
+her satellite. &ldquo;Nobody gets enough to eat in
+this house!&rdquo; added Carnaby darkly, &ldquo;except
+the dog.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>At the lunch-table, the antagonism natural
+between a hot-blooded impetuous boy and a
+grandmother such as Mrs. de Tracy became
+rather painfully apparent. He had already
+been hauled over the coals for his arrival on
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_97' name='page_97'></a>97</span>
+Sunday and his indecorous appearance in
+church after service had begun.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;It does not appear to me that you are at
+all in need of sick-leave,&rdquo; said Mrs. de Tracy
+suspiciously.</p>
+<p>Carnaby, sensitive for all his robustness,
+flushed hotly, and then became impertinent.
+&ldquo;My pulse is twenty beats too quick still,
+after quinsy. If you don&rsquo;t believe the doctor,
+ma&rsquo;am, it&rsquo;s not my fault.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Carnaby has committed indiscretions in
+the way of growing since I last saw him,&rdquo;
+Lavendar broke in hastily. &ldquo;At sixteen one
+may easily outgrow one&rsquo;s strength!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Indeed!&rdquo; said Mrs. de Tracy, frigidly.
+The situation was saved by the behaviour of
+the lap-dog, which suddenly burst into a
+passion of barking and convulsive struggling
+in Miss Smeardon&rsquo;s arms. His enemy had
+come, and Carnaby had fifty ways of exasperating
+his grandmother&rsquo;s favourite, secrets
+between him and the bewildered dog. Rupert
+was a Prince Charles of pedigree as
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_98' name='page_98'></a>98</span>
+unquestioned as his mistress&rsquo;s and an appearance
+dating back to Vandyke, but Carnaby
+always addressed him as &ldquo;Lord Roberts,&rdquo;
+for reasons of his own. It annoyed his
+grandmother and it infuriated the dog, who
+took it for a deadly insult.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Lord Roberts! Bobs, old man, hi! hi!&rdquo;
+Carnaby had but to say the words to make
+the little dog convulsive. He said them now,
+and the results seemed likely to be fatal to
+a dropsical animal so soon after a full meal.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;You&rsquo;ll kill him!&rdquo; whispered Robinette
+as they left the dining room.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I mean to!&rdquo; was the calm reply. &ldquo;I&rsquo;d
+like to wring old Smeardon&rsquo;s neck too!&rdquo; but
+the broad good humour of the rosy face, the
+twinkling eyes, belied these truculent words.
+In spite of infinite powers of mischief, there
+was not an ounce of vindictiveness in Carnaby
+de Tracy, though there might be other
+qualities difficult to deal with.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;There&rsquo;s a man to be made there&ndash;&ndash;or to
+be marred!&rdquo; said Robinette to herself.</p>
+<hr class='toprule' />
+<div class='chsp'>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_99' name='page_99'></a>99</span>
+<a name='IX_POINTS_OF_VIEW' id='IX_POINTS_OF_VIEW'></a>
+<h2>IX</h2>
+<h3>POINTS OF VIEW</h3>
+</div>
+<p>Evenings at Stoke Revel were of a dullness
+all too deep to be sounded and too closely
+hedged in by tradition and observance to be
+evaded or shortened by the boldest visitor.
+Lavendar and the boy would have prolonged
+their respite in the smoking room had they
+dared, but in these later days Lavendar found
+he wished to be below on guard. The thought
+of Robinette alone between the two women
+downstairs made him uneasy. It was as though
+some bird of bright plumage had strayed into
+a barnyard to be pecked at by hens. Not but
+what he realised that this particular bird had
+a spirit of her own, and plenty of courage,
+but no man with even a prospective interest
+in a pretty woman, likes to think of the
+object of his admiration as thoroughly well
+able to look after herself. She must needs
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_100' name='page_100'></a>100</span>
+have a protector, and the heaven-sent one is
+himself.</p>
+<p>He had to take up arms in her defense
+on this, the first night of his arrival. Mrs.
+Loring had gone up to her room for some
+photographs of her house in America, and
+as she flitted through the door her scarf
+caught on the knob, and he had been obliged
+to extricate it. He had known her exactly
+four hours, and although he was unconscious
+of it, his heart was being pulled along the
+passage and up the stairway at the tail-end
+of that wisp of chiffon, while he listened to
+her retreating footsteps. Closing the door
+he came back to Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s side.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Her dress is indecorous for a widow,&rdquo;
+said that lady severely.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, I don&rsquo;t see that,&rdquo; replied Lavendar.
+&ldquo;She is in reality only a girl, and her widowhood
+has already lasted two years, you say.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Once a widow always a widow,&rdquo; returned
+Mrs. de Tracy sententiously, with a self-respecting
+glance at her own cap and the half-dozen
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_101' name='page_101'></a>101</span>
+dull jet ornaments she affected. Lavendar
+laughed outright, but she rather liked
+his laughter: it made her think herself witty.
+Once he had told her she was &ldquo;delicious,&rdquo;
+and she had never forgotten it.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s going pretty far, my dear lady,&rdquo;
+he replied. &ldquo;Not all women are so faithful
+to a memory as you. I understand Americans
+don&rsquo;t wear weeds, and to me her blue cape
+is a delightful note in the landscape. Her
+dresses are conventional and proper, and I
+fancy she cannot express herself without a
+bit of colour.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;The object of clothing, Mark, is to cover
+and to protect yourself, not to express yourself,&rdquo;
+said Mrs. de Tracy bitingly.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;The thought of wearing anything bright
+always makes me shrink,&rdquo; remarked Miss
+Smeardon, who had never apparently observed
+the tip of her own nose, &ldquo;but some persons
+are less sensitive on these points than
+others.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Mrs. de Tracy bowed an approving assent
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_102' name='page_102'></a>102</span>
+to this. &ldquo;A widow&rsquo;s only concern should
+be to refrain from attracting notice,&rdquo; she
+said, as though quoting from a private book
+of proverbial philosophy soon to be published.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Then Mrs. Loring might as well have
+burned herself on her husband&rsquo;s funeral pyre,
+Hindoo fashion!&rdquo; argued Lavendar. &ldquo;A
+woman&rsquo;s life hasn&rsquo;t ended at two and
+twenty. It&rsquo;s hardly begun, and I fear the
+lady in question will arouse attention whatever
+she wears.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Would she be called attractive?&rdquo; asked
+Mrs. de Tracy with surprise.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, yes, without a doubt!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;In gentlemen&rsquo;s eyes, I suppose you
+mean?&rdquo; said Miss Smeardon.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, in gentlemen&rsquo;s eyes,&rdquo; answered
+Lavendar, firmly. &ldquo;Those of women are apparently
+furnished with different lenses. But
+here comes the fair object of our discussion,
+so we must decide it later on.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>The question of ancestors, a favourite one
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_103' name='page_103'></a>103</span>
+at Stoke Revel, came up in the course of the
+next evening&rsquo;s conversation, and Lavendar
+found Robinette a trifle flushed but smiling
+under a double fire of questions from Mrs.
+de Tracy and her companion. Mrs. de Tracy
+was in her usual chair, knitting; Miss
+Smeardon sat by the table with a piece
+of fancy-work; Robinette had pulled a
+foot-stool to the hearthrug and sat as near
+the flames as she conveniently could. She
+shielded her face with the last copy of
+<i>Punch</i>, and let her shoulders bask in the
+warmth of the fire, which made flickering
+shadows on her creamy neck. Her white
+skirts swept softly round her feet, and her
+favourite turquoise scarf made a note of colour
+in her lap. She was one of those women
+who, without positive beauty, always make
+pictures of themselves.</p>
+<p>Lavendar analyzed her looks as he joined
+the circle, pretending to read. &ldquo;She isn&rsquo;t
+posing,&rdquo; he thought, &ldquo;but she ought to be
+painted. She ought always to be painted,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_104' name='page_104'></a>104</span>
+each time one sees her, for everything about
+her suggests a portrait. That blue ribbon
+in her hair is fairly distracting! What the
+dickens is the reason one wants to look at
+her all the time! I&rsquo;ve seen far handsomer
+women!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Do you use Burke and Debrett in your
+country, Mrs. Loring?&rdquo; Miss Smeardon was
+enquiring politely, as she laid down one red
+volume after the other, having ascertained
+the complete family tree of a lady who had
+called that afternoon.</p>
+<p>Robinette smiled. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m afraid we&rsquo;ve nothing
+but telephone or business directories,
+social registers, and &lsquo;Who&rsquo;s Who,&rsquo; in America,&rdquo;
+she said.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;You are not interested in questions of
+genealogy, I suppose?&rdquo; asked Mrs. de Tracy
+pityingly.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I can hardly say that. But I think
+perhaps that we are more occupied with the
+future than with the past.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;That is natural,&rdquo; assented the lady of the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_105' name='page_105'></a>105</span>
+Manor, &ldquo;since you have so much more of
+it, haven&rsquo;t you? But the mixture of races
+in your country,&rdquo; she continued condescendingly,
+&ldquo;must have made you indifferent to
+purity of strain.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I hope we are not wholly indifferent,&rdquo;
+said Robinette, as though she were stopping
+to consider. &ldquo;I think every serious-minded
+person must be proud to inherit fine qualities
+and to pass them on. Surely it isn&rsquo;t enough
+to give <i>old</i> blood to the next generation&ndash;&ndash;it
+must be <i>good</i> blood. Yes! the right stock
+certainly means something to an American.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;But if you&rsquo;ve nothing that answers to
+Burke and Debrett, I don&rsquo;t see how you can
+find out anybody&rsquo;s pedigree,&rdquo; objected Miss
+Smeardon. Then with an air of innocent
+curiosity and a glance supposed to be arch,
+&ldquo;Are the Red Indians, the Negroes, and the
+Chinese in your so-called directories?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;As many of them as are in business, or
+have won their way to any position among
+men no doubt are there, I suppose,&rdquo; answered
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_106' name='page_106'></a>106</span>
+Robinette straightforwardly. &ldquo;I think we
+just guess at people&rsquo;s ancestry by the way
+they look, act, and speak,&rdquo; she continued
+musingly. &ldquo;You can &lsquo;guess&rsquo; quite well if
+you are clever at it. No Indians or Chinese
+ever dine with me, Miss Smeardon, though
+I&rsquo;d rather like a peaceful Indian at dinner
+for a change; but I expect he&rsquo;d find me very
+dull and uneventful!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Dull!&ndash;&ndash;that&rsquo;s a word I very often hear
+on American lips,&rdquo; broke in Lavendar as he
+looked over the top of Henry Newbolt&rsquo;s
+poems. &ldquo;I believe being dull is thought a
+criminal offence in your country. Now,
+isn&rsquo;t there some danger involved in this
+fear of dullness?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I shouldn&rsquo;t wonder,&rdquo; Robinette answered
+thoughtfully, looking into the fire.
+&ldquo;Yes; I dare say there is, but I&rsquo;m afraid
+there are social and mental dangers involved
+in <i>not</i> being afraid of it, too!&rdquo; Her mischievous
+eyes swept the room, with Mrs. de
+Tracy&rsquo;s solemn figure and Miss Smeardon&rsquo;s
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_107' name='page_107'></a>107</span>
+for its bright ornaments. &ldquo;The moment a
+person or a nation allows itself to be too dull,
+it ceases to be quite alive, doesn&rsquo;t it? But
+as to us Americans, Mr. Lavendar, bear with
+us for a few years, we are so ridiculously
+young! It is our growing time, and what you
+want in a young plant is growth, isn&rsquo;t it?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Y-yes,&rdquo; Lavendar replied: then with a
+twinkle in his blue eyes he added: &ldquo;Only
+somehow we don&rsquo;t like to hear a plant grow!
+It should manage to perform the operation
+quite silently, showing not processes but results.
+That&rsquo;s a counsel of perfection, perhaps,
+but don&rsquo;t slay me for plain-speaking,
+Mrs. Loring!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Robinette laughed. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll never slay you
+for saying anything so wise and true as
+that!&rdquo; she said, and Lavendar, flushing
+under her praise, was charmed with her good
+humour.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;America&rsquo;s a very large country, is it
+not?&rdquo; enquired Miss Smeardon with her
+usual brilliancy. &ldquo;What is its area?&rdquo;</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_108' name='page_108'></a>108</span></div>
+<p>&ldquo;Bigger than England, but not as big as
+the British Empire!&rdquo; suggested Carnaby,
+feeling the conversation was drifting into
+his ken.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s just the size of the moon, I&rsquo;ve
+heard!&rdquo; said Robinette teasingly. &ldquo;Does
+that throw any light on the question?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Moonlight!&rdquo; laughed Carnaby, much
+pleased with his own wit. &ldquo;Ha! ha! That&rsquo;s
+the first joke I&rsquo;ve made this holidays. <i>Moonlight!</i>
+Jolly good!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;If you&rsquo;d take a joke a little more in
+your stride, my son,&rdquo; said Lavendar, &ldquo;we
+should be more impressed by your mental
+sparkles.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Straighten the sofa-cushions, Carnaby,&rdquo;
+said his grandmother, &ldquo;and don&rsquo;t lounge.
+I missed the point of your so-called joke
+entirely. As to the size of a country or anything
+else, I have never understood that it
+affected its quality. In fruit or vegetables,
+for instance, it generally means coarseness
+and indifferent flavour.&rdquo; Miss Smeardon
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_109' name='page_109'></a>109</span>
+beamed at this palpable hit, but Mrs. Loring
+deprived the situation of its point by
+backing up Mrs. de Tracy heartily. She had
+no opinion of mere size, either, she declared.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;You don&rsquo;t stand up for your country
+half enough,&rdquo; objected Carnaby to his cousin.
+(&ldquo;Why don&rsquo;t you give the old cat beans?&rdquo;
+was his supplement, <i>sotto voce</i>.)</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Just attack some of my pet theories and
+convictions, Middy dear, if you wish to see
+me in a rage,&rdquo; said Robinette lightly, &ldquo;but
+my motto will never be &lsquo;My country right or
+wrong.&rsquo;&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Nor mine,&rdquo; agreed Lavendar. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m
+heartily with you there.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s a great venture we&rsquo;re trying in
+America. I wish every one would try to look
+at it in that light,&rdquo; said Robinette with a
+slight flush of earnestness.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;What do you mean by a venture?&rdquo;
+asked Mrs. de Tracy.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;The experiment we&rsquo;re making in democracy,&rdquo;
+answered Robinette. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s fallen to
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_110' name='page_110'></a>110</span>
+us to try it, for of course it simply had to be
+tried. It is thrillingly interesting, whatever it
+may turn out, and I wish I might live to see
+the end of it. We are creating a race, Aunt
+de Tracy; think of that!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s as difficult for nations as for individuals
+to hit the happy medium,&rdquo; said Lavendar,
+stirring the fire. &ldquo;Enterprise carried
+too far becomes vulgar hustling, while stability
+and conservatism often pass the coveted
+point of repose and degenerate into
+torpor.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;This part of England seems to me singularly
+free from faults,&rdquo; interposed Mrs. de
+Tracy in didactic tones. &ldquo;We have a wonderful
+climate; more sunshine than in any
+part of the island, I believe. Our local society
+is singularly free from scandal. The
+clergy, if not quite as eloquent or profound
+as in London (and in my opinion it is the
+better for being neither) is strictly conscientious.
+We have no burglars or locusts or
+gnats or even midges, as I&rsquo;m told they unfortunately
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_111' name='page_111'></a>111</span>
+have in Scotland, and our dinner-parties,
+though quiet and dignified, are never
+dull.... What is the matter, Robinetta?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;A sudden catch in my throat,&rdquo; said Robinette,
+struggling with some sort of vocal
+difficulty and avoiding Lavendar&rsquo;s eye.
+&ldquo;Thank you,&rdquo; as he offered her a glass
+of water from the punctual and strictly temperate
+evening tray. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t look at me,&rdquo;
+she added under her voice.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Not for a million of money!&rdquo; he whispered.
+Then he said aloud: &ldquo;If I ever stand
+for Parliament, Mrs. Loring, I should like
+you to help me with my constituency!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>The unruffled temper and sweet reasonableness
+of Robinette&rsquo;s answers to questions
+by no means always devoid of malice, had
+struck the young man very much, as he listened.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;She is good!&rdquo; he thought to himself.
+&ldquo;Good and sweet and generous. Her loveliness
+is not only in her face; it is in her
+heart.&rdquo; And some favorite lines began to
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_112' name='page_112'></a>112</span>
+run in his head that night, with new conviction:&ndash;&ndash;</p>
+<table summary=''><tr><td>
+<p class='cg'>He that loves a rosy cheek,<br />
+<span class='indent2'>&nbsp;</span>Or a coral lip admires,<br />
+Or from star-like eyes doth seek<br />
+<span class='indent2'>&nbsp;</span>Fuel to maintain his fires,&ndash;&ndash;<br />
+As old Time makes these decay,<br />
+<span class='indent2'>&nbsp;</span>So his flames will waste away.<br />
+<br />
+But a smooth and steadfast mind,<br />
+<span class='indent2'>&nbsp;</span>Gentle thoughts and calm desires,<br />
+Hearts with equal love combined&ndash;&ndash;</p>
+</td></tr></table>
+<p>but here Lavendar broke off with a laugh.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s not come to that yet!&rdquo; he thought.
+&ldquo;I wonder if it ever will?&rdquo;</p>
+<hr class='toprule' />
+<div class='chsp'>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_113' name='page_113'></a>113</span>
+<a name='X_A_NEW_KINSMAN' id='X_A_NEW_KINSMAN'></a>
+<h2>X</h2>
+<h3>A NEW KINSMAN</h3>
+</div>
+<p>Young Mrs. Loring was making her way
+slowly at Stoke Revel Manor, and Mrs. de
+Tracy, though never affectionate, treated her
+with a little less indifference as the days went
+on. &ldquo;The Admiral&rsquo;s niece is a lady,&rdquo; she admitted
+to herself privately; &ldquo;not perhaps the
+highest type of English lady; that, considering
+her mixed ancestry and American education,
+would be too much to expect; but in
+the broad, general meaning of the word, unmistakably
+a lady!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Mrs. Benson, though not melting outwardly
+as yet, held more lenient views still
+with regard to the American guest. Bates,
+the butler, was elderly, and severely Church
+of England; his knowledge of widows was
+confined to the type ably represented by his
+mistress and he regarded young Mrs. Loring
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_114' name='page_114'></a>114</span>
+as inclined to be &ldquo;flighty.&rdquo; The footman,
+who was entirely under the butler&rsquo;s thumb
+in mundane matters, had fallen into the
+habit of sharing his opinions, and while
+agreeing in the general feeling of flightiness,
+declared boldly that the lady in question
+gave a certain &ldquo;style&rdquo; to the dinner-table that
+it had lacked before her advent.</p>
+<p>For a helpless victim, however, a slave
+bound in fetters of steel, one would have to
+know Cummins, the under housemaid, who
+lighted Mrs. Loring&rsquo;s fire night and morning.
+She was young, shy, country bred, and new to
+service. When Mrs. Benson sent her to the
+guest&rsquo;s room at eight o&rsquo;clock on the morning
+after her arrival she stopped outside the door
+in a panic of fear.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Come in!&rdquo; called a cheerful voice.
+&ldquo;Come in!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Cummins entered, bearing her box with
+brush and cloth and kindlings. To her further
+embarrassment Mrs. Loring was sitting
+up in bed with an ermine coat on, over which
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_115' name='page_115'></a>115</span>
+her bright hair fell in picturesque disorder.
+She had brought the coat for theatre and
+opera, but as these attractions were lacking
+at Stoke Revel and as life there was, to her,
+one prolonged Polar expedition, with dashes
+farthest north morning and evening, she had
+diverted it to practical uses.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Make me a quick fire please, a big fire,
+a hot fire,&rdquo; she begged, &ldquo;or I shall be late
+for breakfast; I never can step into that tin
+tub till the ice is melted.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;There&rsquo;s no ice in it, ma&rsquo;am,&rdquo; expostulated
+Cummins gently, with the voice of a
+wood dove.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;You can&rsquo;t see it because you&rsquo;re English,&rdquo;
+said the strange lady, &ldquo;but I can see
+it and feel it. Oh, you make <i>such</i> a good
+fire! What is your name, please?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Cummins, ma&rsquo;am.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;There&rsquo;s another Cummins downstairs,
+but she is tall and large. You shall be &lsquo;Little
+Cummins.&rsquo;&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Now every morning the shy maid palpitated
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_116' name='page_116'></a>116</span>
+outside the bedroom door, having given
+her modest knock; palpitated for fear it
+should be all a dream. But no, it was not!
+there would be a clear-voiced &ldquo;Come in!&rdquo;
+and then, as she entered; &ldquo;Good morning,
+Little Cummins. I&rsquo;ve been longing for you
+since daybreak!&rdquo; A trifle later on it was,
+&ldquo;Good Little Cummins bearing coals of comfort!
+Kind Little Cummins,&rdquo; and other
+strange and wonderful terms of praise, until
+Little Cummins felt herself consumed by a
+passion to which Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s coals became
+as less than naught unless they could
+be heaped on the altar of the beloved.</p>
+<p>So life went on at Stoke Revel, outwardly
+even and often dull, while in reality many
+subtle changes were taking place below the
+surface; changes slight in themselves but
+not without meaning.</p>
+<p>Robinette ran up to her room directly
+after breakfast one morning and pinned on
+her hat as she came downstairs. Mark Lavendar
+had gone to London for a few days,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_117' name='page_117'></a>117</span>
+but even the dullness of breakfast-table conversation
+had not robbed her of her joy in
+the early sunshine, made more cheery by the
+prospect of a walk with Carnaby, with whom
+she was now fast friends.</p>
+<p>Carnaby looked at her beamingly as they
+stood together on the steps. &ldquo;You&rsquo;re the
+best turned-out woman of my acquaintance,&rdquo;
+he said approvingly, with a laughable struggle
+for the tone of a middle-aged man of the
+world.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;How many ladies of fashion do you
+know, my child?&rdquo; enquired Robinetta, pulling
+on her gloves.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I see a lot of &rsquo;em off and on,&rdquo; Carnaby
+answered somewhat huffily, &ldquo;and they don&rsquo;t
+call me a child either!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t they? Then that&rsquo;s because they&rsquo;re
+timid and don&rsquo;t dare address a future Admiral
+as Infant-in-Arms! Come on, Middy
+dear, let&rsquo;s walk.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Robinette wore a white serge dress and
+jacket, and her hat was a rough straw turned
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_118' name='page_118'></a>118</span>
+up saucily in two places with black owls&rsquo;
+heads. Mrs. Benson and Little Cummins had
+looked at it curiously while Robinette was at
+breakfast.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&rsquo;Tis black underneath and white on top,
+Mrs. Benson. &rsquo;Ow can that be? It looks as
+if one &rsquo;at &rsquo;ad been clapped on another!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s what it is, Cummins. It&rsquo;s a
+double hat; but they&rsquo;ll do anything in America.
+It&rsquo;s a double hat with two black owls&rsquo;
+heads, and I&rsquo;ll wager they charged double
+price for it!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;She&rsquo;s a lovely beauty in anythink and
+everythink she wears,&rdquo; said Little Cummins
+loyally.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;May I call you &lsquo;Cousin Robin&rsquo;?&rdquo; Carnaby
+asked as they walked along. &ldquo;Robinette
+is such a long name.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Cousin Robin is very nice, I think,&rdquo; she
+answered. &ldquo;As a matter of fact I ought to
+be your Aunt Robin; it would be much more
+appropriate.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Aunt be blowed!&rdquo; ejaculated Carnaby.</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_119' name='page_119'></a>119</span></div>
+<p>&ldquo;You&rsquo;re very fond of making yourself out
+old, but it&rsquo;s no go! When I first heard you
+were a widow I thought you would be grandmother&rsquo;s
+age,&ndash;&ndash;I say&ndash;&ndash;do you think you
+will marry another time, Cousin Robin?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s a very leading question for a
+gentleman to put to a lady! Were you intending
+to ask me to wait for you, Middy dear?&rdquo;
+asked Robinette, putting her arm in the boy&rsquo;s
+laughingly, quite unconscious of his mood.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;d wait quick enough if you&rsquo;d let me!
+I&rsquo;d wait a lifetime! There never was anybody
+like you in the world!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>The words were said half under the boy&rsquo;s
+breath and the emotion in his tone was a
+complete and disagreeable surprise. Here
+was something that must be nipped in the
+bud, instantly and courageously. Robinette
+dropped Carnaby&rsquo;s arm and said: &ldquo;We&rsquo;ll
+talk that over at once, Middy dear, but first
+you shall race me to the top of the twisting
+path, down past the tulip beds, to the seat
+under the big ash tree.&ndash;&ndash;Come on!&rdquo;</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_120' name='page_120'></a>120</span></div>
+<p>The two reached the tree in a moment,
+Carnaby sufficiently in advance to preserve
+his self-respect and with a colour heightened
+by something other than the exercise of running.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Sit down, first cousin once removed!&rdquo;
+said Robinette. &ldquo;Do you know the story of
+Sydney Smith, who wrote apologizing to somebody
+for not being able to come to dinner?
+&lsquo;The house is full of cousins,&rsquo; he said;
+&lsquo;would they were &ldquo;once removed&rdquo;!&rsquo;&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s no good telling me literary anecdotes!&ndash;&ndash;You&rsquo;re
+not treating me fairly,&rdquo; said
+Carnaby sulkily.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m treating you exactly as you should
+be treated, Infant-in-Arms,&rdquo; Robinette answered
+firmly. &ldquo;Give me your two paws, and
+look me straight in the eye.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Carnaby was no coward. His steel-grey
+eyes blazed as he met his cousin&rsquo;s look.
+&ldquo;Carnaby dear, do you know what you are
+to me? You are my kinsman; my only male
+relation. I&rsquo;m so fond of you already, don&rsquo;t
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_121' name='page_121'></a>121</span>
+spoil it! Think what you can be to me if
+you will. I am all alone in the world and
+when you grow a little older how I should
+like to depend upon you! I need affection;
+so do you, dear boy; can&rsquo;t I see how you are
+just starving for it? There is no reason in
+the world why we shouldn&rsquo;t be fond of each
+other! Oh! how grateful I should be to
+think of a strong young middy growing up
+to advise me and take me about! It was
+that kind of care and thought of me that was
+in your mind just now!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;You&rsquo;ll be marrying somebody one of
+these days,&rdquo; blurted Carnaby, wholly moved,
+but only half convinced. &ldquo;Then you&rsquo;ll forget
+all about your &lsquo;kinsman.&rsquo;&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I have no intention in that direction,&rdquo;
+said Robinette, &ldquo;but if I change my mind
+I&rsquo;ll consult you first; how will that do?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;It wouldn&rsquo;t do any good,&rdquo; sighed the
+boy, &ldquo;so I&rsquo;d rather you wouldn&rsquo;t! You&rsquo;d
+have your own way spite of everything a
+fellow could say against it!&rdquo;</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_122' name='page_122'></a>122</span></div>
+<p>There was a moment of embarrassment;
+then the silence was promptly broken by
+Robinette.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Well, Middy dear, are we the best of
+friends?&rdquo; she asked, rising from the bench
+and putting out her hand.</p>
+<p>The lad took it and said all in a glow of
+chivalry, &ldquo;You&rsquo;re the dearest, the best,
+and the prettiest cousin in the world! You
+don&rsquo;t mind my thinking you&rsquo;re the prettiest?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Mind it? I delight in it! I shall come
+to your ship and pour out tea for you in my
+most fetching frock. Your friends will say:
+&lsquo;Who is that particularly agreeable lady, Carnaby?&rsquo;
+And you, with swelling chest, will
+respond, &lsquo;That&rsquo;s my American cousin, Mrs.
+Loring. She&rsquo;s a nice creature; I&rsquo;m glad you
+like her!&rsquo;&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Robinette&rsquo;s imitation of Carnaby&rsquo;s possible
+pomposity was so amusing and so clever that
+it drew a laugh from the boy in spite of himself.</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_123' name='page_123'></a>123</span></div>
+<p>&ldquo;Just let anyone try to call you a &lsquo;creature&rsquo;!&rdquo;
+he exclaimed. &ldquo;He&rsquo;d have me to
+reckon with! Oh! I am so tired of being a
+boy! The inside of me is all grown up and
+everybody keeps on looking at the outside
+and thinking I&rsquo;m just the same as I always
+was!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Dear old Middy, you&rsquo;re quite old enough
+to be my protector and that is what you shall
+be! Now shall we go in? I want you to stand
+near by while I ask your grandmother a favor.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;She won&rsquo;t do it if she can help it,&rdquo; was
+Carnaby&rsquo;s succinct reply.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, I am not sure! Where shall we find
+her,&ndash;&ndash;in the library?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Yes; come along! Get up your circulation;
+you&rsquo;ll need it!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Aunt de Tracy, there is something at
+Stoke Revel I am very anxious to have if you
+will give it to me,&rdquo; said Robinette, as she came
+into the library a few minutes later.</p>
+<p>Mrs. de Tracy looked up from her knitting
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_124' name='page_124'></a>124</span>
+solemnly. &ldquo;If it belongs to me, I shall
+no doubt be willing, as I know you would
+not ask for anything out of the common; but
+I own little here; nearly all is Carnaby&rsquo;s.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;This was my mother&rsquo;s,&rdquo; said Robinette.
+&ldquo;It is a picture hanging in the smoking
+room; one that was a great favorite of
+hers, called &lsquo;Robinetta.&rsquo; Her drawing-master
+found an Italian artist in London who went
+to the National Gallery and made a copy of
+the Sir Joshua picture, and I was named
+after it.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I wish your mother could have been a
+little less romantic,&rdquo; sighed Mrs. de Tracy.
+&ldquo;There were such fine old family names she
+might have used: Marcia and Elspeth, and
+Rosamond and Winifred!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I am sorry, Aunt de Tracy. If I had
+been consulted I believe I should have agreed
+with you. Perhaps when my mother was in
+America the family ties were not drawn as
+tightly as in the former years?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;If it was so, it was only natural,&rdquo; said the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_125' name='page_125'></a>125</span>
+old lady. &ldquo;However, if you ask Carnaby, and
+if the picture has no great value, I am sure
+he will wish you to have it, especially if you
+know it to have been your mother&rsquo;s property.&rdquo;
+Here Carnaby sauntered into the
+room. &ldquo;That&rsquo;s all right, grandmother,&rdquo; he
+said, &ldquo;I heard what you were saying; only
+I wish it was a real Sir Joshua we were giving
+Cousin Robin instead of a copy!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Thank you, Carnaby dear, and thank you,
+too, Aunt de Tracy. You can&rsquo;t think how
+much it is to me to have this; it is a precious
+link between mother&rsquo;s girlhood, and mother,
+and me.&rdquo; So saying, she dropped a timid kiss
+upon Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s iron-grey hair, and
+left the room.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;If she could live in England long enough
+to get over that excessive freedom of manner,
+your cousin would be quite a pleasing person,
+but I am afraid it goes too deep to be cured,&rdquo;
+Mrs. de Tracy remarked as she smoothed the
+hairs that might have been ruffled by Robinette&rsquo;s
+kiss.</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_126' name='page_126'></a>126</span></div>
+<p>Carnaby made no reply. He was looking
+out into the garden and feeling half a boy,
+half a man, but wholly, though not very contentedly,
+a kinsman.</p>
+<hr class='toprule' />
+<div class='chsp'>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_127' name='page_127'></a>127</span>
+<a name='XI_THE_SANDS_AT_WESTON' id='XI_THE_SANDS_AT_WESTON'></a>
+<h2>XI</h2>
+<h3>THE SANDS AT WESTON</h3>
+</div>
+<p>&ldquo;Thursday morning? Is it possible that
+this is Thursday morning? And I must
+run up to London on Saturday,&rdquo; said Lavendar
+to himself as he finished dressing by
+the open window. He looked up the day
+of the week in his calendar first, in order to
+make quite sure of the fact. Yes, there was
+no doubt at all that it was Thursday. His
+sense of time must have suffered some strange
+confusion; in one way it seemed only an hour
+ago that he had arrived from the clangour
+and darkness of London to the silence of
+the country, the cuckoos calling across the
+river between the wooded hills, and the April
+sunshine on the orchard trees; in another,
+years might have passed since the moment
+when he first saw Robinette Loring sitting
+under Mrs. Prettyman&rsquo;s plum tree.</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_128' name='page_128'></a>128</span></div>
+<p>&ldquo;Eight days have we spent together in
+this house, and yet since that time when we
+first crossed in the boat, I&rsquo;ve never been
+more than half an hour alone with her,&rdquo;
+he thought. &ldquo;There are only three other
+people in the house after all, but they seem
+to have the power of multiplying themselves
+like the loaves and fishes (only when they&rsquo;re
+not wanted) so that we&rsquo;re eternally in a
+crowd. That boy particularly! I like Carnaby,
+if he could get it into his thick head
+that his presence isn&rsquo;t always necessary; it
+must bother Mrs. Loring too; he&rsquo;s quite off
+his head about her if she only knew it.
+However, it&rsquo;s my last day very likely, and
+if I have to outwit Machiavelli I&rsquo;ll manage
+it somehow! Surely one lame old woman,
+and a torpid machine for knitting and writing
+notes like Miss Smeardon, can&rsquo;t want to be
+out of doors all day. Hang that boy, though!
+He&rsquo;ll come anywhere.&rdquo; Here he stopped and
+sat down suddenly at the dressing-table,
+covering his face with his hands in comic
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_129' name='page_129'></a>129</span>
+despair. &ldquo;Mrs. Loring can&rsquo;t like it! She must
+be doing it on purpose, avoiding being alone
+with me because she sees I admire her,&rdquo; he
+sighed. &ldquo;After all why should I ever suppose
+that I interest her as much as she does me?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>No one could have told from Lavendar&rsquo;s
+face, when he appeared fresh and smiling at
+the breakfast table half an hour later, that he
+was hatching any deep-laid schemes.</p>
+<p>Robinette entered the dining room five
+minutes late, as usual, pretty as a pink, breathless
+with hurrying. She wore a white dress
+again, with one rose stuck at her waistband,
+&ldquo;A little tribute from the gardener,&rdquo;
+she said, as she noticed Lavendar glance at
+it. She went rapidly around the table shaking
+hands, and gave Carnaby&rsquo;s red cheeks a pinch
+in passing that made Lavendar long to tweak
+the boy&rsquo;s ear.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Good morning, all!&rdquo; she said cheerily,
+&ldquo;and how is my first cousin once removed?
+Is he going to Weston with me this morning
+to buy hairpins?&rdquo;</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_130' name='page_130'></a>130</span></div>
+<p>&ldquo;He is!&rdquo; Carnaby answered joyfully, between
+mouthfuls of bacon and eggs. &ldquo;He
+has been out of hairpins for a week.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Does he need tapes and buttons also?&rdquo;
+asked Robinette, taking the piece of muffin
+from his hand and buttering it for herself;
+an act highly disapproved of by Mrs. de Tracy,
+who hurriedly requested Bates to pass the
+bread.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;He needs everything you need,&rdquo; Carnaby
+said with heightened colour.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;My hair is giving me a good deal of trouble,
+lately,&rdquo; remarked Lavendar, passing his
+hand over a thickly thatched head.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I have an excellent American tonic that
+I will give you after breakfast,&rdquo; said Robinette
+roguishly. &ldquo;You need to apply it with a
+brush at ten, eleven, and twelve o&rsquo;clock, sitting
+in the sun continuously between those
+hours so that the scalp may be well invigorated.
+Carnaby, will you buy me butter scotch
+and lemonade and oranges in Weston?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I will, if Grandmother&rsquo;ll increase my allowance,&rdquo;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_131' name='page_131'></a>131</span>
+said Carnaby malevolently, &ldquo;for I
+need every penny I&rsquo;ve got in hand for the
+hairpins.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I hope you are not hungry, Robinetta,&rdquo;
+said Mrs. de Tracy, &ldquo;that you have to buy
+food in Weston.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;No, indeed,&rdquo; said Robinette, &ldquo;I was only
+longing to test Carnaby&rsquo;s generosity and educate
+him in buying trifles for pretty ladies.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;He can probably be relied on to educate
+himself in that line when the time comes,&rdquo;
+Mrs. de Tracy remarked; &ldquo;and now if you
+have all finished talking about hair, I will
+take up my breakfast again.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, Aunt de Tracy, I am so sorry if it
+wasn&rsquo;t a nice subject, but I never thought.
+Anyway I only talked about hairpins; it was
+Mr. Lavendar who introduced hair into the
+conversation; wasn&rsquo;t it, Middy dear?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Lavendar thought he could have annihilated
+them both for their open comradeship,
+their obvious delight in each other&rsquo;s society.
+Was he to be put on the shelf like a dry old
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_132' name='page_132'></a>132</span>
+bachelor? Not he! He would circumvent them
+in some way or another, although the r&ocirc;le of
+gooseberry was new to him.</p>
+<p>The two young people set off in high
+spirits, and Mrs. de Tracy and Miss Smeardon
+watched them as they walked down the avenue
+on their way to the station, their clasped
+hands swinging in a merry rhythm as they
+hummed a bit of the last popular song.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I hope Robinetta will not Americanize
+Carnaby,&rdquo; said Mrs. de Tracy. &ldquo;He seems so
+foolishly elated, so feverishly gay all at once.
+Her manner is too informal; Carnaby requires
+constant repression.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Perhaps his temperature has not returned
+to normal since his attack of quinsy,&rdquo; Miss
+Smeardon observed, reassuringly.</p>
+<p>Meanwhile Lavendar sat in Admiral de
+Tracy&rsquo;s old smoking room for half an hour
+writing letters. Every time that he glanced
+up from his work, and he did so pretty
+often, his eyes fell on a picture that hung
+upon the opposite wall. It was the copy of
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_133' name='page_133'></a>133</span>
+Sir Joshua&rsquo;s &ldquo;Robinetta&rdquo; made long ago
+and just presented to its namesake.</p>
+<p>In the portrait the girl&rsquo;s hair was a still
+brighter gold; yet certainly there was a
+likeness somewhere about it, he thought;
+partly in the expression, partly in the broad
+low forehead, and the eyes that looked as if
+they were seeing fairies.</p>
+<p>Of course to his mind Mrs. Loring was a
+hundred times more lovely than Sir Joshua&rsquo;s
+famous girl with a robin. He felt very ill-used
+because Robinette and Carnaby had
+deliberately gone for an excursion without
+him and had left him toiling over business papers
+when they had gone off to enjoy themselves.</p>
+<p>How bright it was out there in the sunshine,
+to be sure! And why should it be
+Carnaby, not he, who was by this time walking
+along the sea front of Weston, and watching
+the breeze flutter Robinette&rsquo;s scarf and bring
+a brighter colour to her lips?</p>
+<p>There! the last words were written, and
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_134' name='page_134'></a>134</span>
+taking up his bunch of letters, watch in
+hand, he sought Mrs. de Tracy, and explained
+that he would bicycle to Weston and
+catch the London post himself.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll send William&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;she began; but
+Lavendar hastily assured her that he should
+enjoy the ride, and hurried off in triumph.
+Miss Smeardon smiled an acid smile as she
+watched him go. &ldquo;He has forgotten all
+about poor Miss Meredith, I suppose,&rdquo; she
+murmured. &ldquo;Yet it was not so long ago that
+they were supposed to be all in all to each
+other!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;It was a foolish engagement, Miss Smeardon,&rdquo;
+said Mrs. de Tracy in a cold voice. &ldquo;I
+never thought the girl was suited to Mark,
+and I understand that old Mr. Lavendar was
+relieved when the whole thing came to an
+end.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Quite so; certainly; no doubt Miss Meredith
+would never have made him happy,&rdquo;
+said Miss Smeardon at once, &ldquo;though it is
+always more agreeable when the lady discovers
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_135' name='page_135'></a>135</span>
+the fact first. In this case she confessed
+openly that Mr. Lavendar broke her
+heart with his indifference.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;She was an ill-bred young woman,&rdquo; said
+Mrs. de Tracy, as if the subject were now
+closed. &ldquo;However, I hope that the son of my
+family solicitor would think it only proper
+to pay a certain amount of attention to the
+Admiral&rsquo;s niece, were she ever so obnoxious
+to him.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Miss Smeardon made no audible reply,
+but her thoughts were to the effect that
+never was an obnoxious duty performed by
+any man with a better grace.</p>
+<p>The sea front at Weston was the most
+prosaic scene in the world, a long esplanade
+with an asphalt path running its full
+length, and ugly jerrybuilt houses glaring
+out upon it, a gimcrack pier with a gingerbread
+sort of band-stand and glass house
+at the end;&ndash;&ndash;all that could have been done
+to ruin nature had been determinedly done
+there. But you cannot ruin a spring day,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_136' name='page_136'></a>136</span>
+nor youth, nor the colour of the sea. Along
+the level shore, the placid waves swept and
+broke, and then gathered up their white
+skirts, and retreated to return with the same
+musical laugh. Children and dogs played
+about on the wet sands. The wind blew
+freshly and the sea stretched all one pure
+blue, till it met on the horizon with the bluer
+skies.</p>
+<p>Weston seemed to Lavendar a very fresh
+and delightful spot at that moment, although
+had he been in a different mood its
+sordidness only would have struck him. Yes,
+there they were in the distance; he knew
+Robinette&rsquo;s white dress and the figure of the
+boy beside her. Hang that boy! Were they
+really going to buy hairpins? If so, then a
+hair-dresser&rsquo;s he must find. Lavendar turned
+up the little street that led from the sea-front,
+scanning all the signs&ndash;&ndash;Boots&ndash;&ndash;Dairies&ndash;&ndash;Vegetable
+shops&ndash;&ndash;Heavens! were there nothing
+but vegetable and boot shops in Weston?
+Boots again. At last a Hairdresser;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_137' name='page_137'></a>137</span>
+Lavendar stood in the doorway until he made
+sure that Robinette and the middy had turned
+in that direction, and then he boldly entered
+the shop.</p>
+<p>To his horror he found himself confronted
+by a smiling young woman, whose own very
+marvellous erection of hair made him think
+she must be used as an advertisement for the
+goods she supplied.</p>
+<p>In another moment Robinette and the boy
+would be upon him, and he must be found
+deep in fictitious business. He cast one agonized
+glance at the mysteries of the toilet
+that surrounded him on every side, then
+clearing his throat, he said modestly but
+firmly, that he wanted to buy a pair of curling
+tongs for a lady.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;These are the thing if you wish a Marcel
+wave,&rdquo; was the reply, &ldquo;but just for an ordinary
+crimp we sell a good many of the plain
+ones.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, thank you. They will do; the lady&ndash;&ndash;my
+sister, also wished&ndash;&ndash;&rdquo;</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_138' name='page_138'></a>138</span></div>
+<p>&ldquo;A little &lsquo;addition,&rsquo; was it, sir?&rdquo; she
+moved smilingly to a drawer. &ldquo;A few pin
+curls are very easily adjusted, or would our
+guinea switch&ndash;&ndash;&rdquo;</p>
+<p>At this moment the boy and Robinette
+entered the shop. Lavendar was paying for
+the curling tongs, and not a muscle of his
+face relaxed. &ldquo;Oh, here you are. I have
+just finished my business,&rdquo; he said, turning
+round, &ldquo;I thought we might encounter one
+another somewhere!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Robinette and Carnaby exchanged knowing
+glances of which Lavendar was perfectly
+conscious, but he stood by while Mrs. Loring
+bought her hairpins, and Carnaby endeavoured
+to persuade her to invest in a few &ldquo;pin
+curls.&rdquo; &ldquo;Not an hour before it is absolutely
+necessary, Middy dear,&rdquo; she said; &ldquo;then I
+shall bear it as bravely as I can. Come
+now, carry the hairpins for me, and let
+me take Mr. Lavendar out of this shop, or
+he will be tempted to buy more than he
+needs.&rdquo;</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_139' name='page_139'></a>139</span></div>
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, no!&rdquo; Lavendar remarked pointedly.
+&ldquo;I have what I came for!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t forget your parcel,&rdquo; Carnaby exclaimed,
+darting after Lavendar as they
+went into the street. &ldquo;You&rsquo;ve left it on
+the counter.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;How careless!&rdquo; said Mark. &ldquo;It was for
+my sister.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;You never told me you had a sister,&rdquo; said
+Robinette, as they walked together, Lavendar
+wheeling his bicycle and Carnaby sulking
+behind them.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I am blessed with two; one married now;
+the other, my sister Amy, lives at home.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Well, you see, in spite of all our questions
+the first time we met, we really know
+very little about each other,&rdquo; she went on
+lightly. &ldquo;It takes such a long time to get
+thoroughly acquainted in this country. Do
+they ever count you a friend if you do not
+know all their aunts and second cousins?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Lavendar laughed. &ldquo;Willingly would I
+introduce you to my aunts and my uttermost
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_140' name='page_140'></a>140</span>
+cousins, and lay the map of my life before
+you, uneventful as it has been, if that would
+further our acquaintance.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Even as he spoke a hateful memory darted
+into his thoughts, and he reddened to his
+temples, until Mrs. Loring wondered if she
+had said anything to annoy him.</p>
+<p>Some fortunate accident at this point ordered
+that Carnaby should meet a friend,
+another middy about his own age, and they set
+off together in quest of a third boy who was
+supposed to be in the near neighbourhood.</p>
+<p>As soon as the lads were out of sight
+Lavendar found the jests they had been
+bandying together die on his lips. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m going
+down deeper; I shall be out of my depth
+very soon,&rdquo; he thought to himself, as he
+walked in silence by Robinette&rsquo;s side.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Let us come down to the beach again;
+we can&rsquo;t go to the station for half an hour
+yet,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I like to look out to sea, and
+realize that if I sailed long enough I could
+step off that pier, and arrive in America.&rdquo;</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_141' name='page_141'></a>141</span></div>
+<p>They stood by the sea-wall together with
+the fresh wind playing on their faces. &ldquo;Isn&rsquo;t
+it curious,&rdquo; said Robinette, &ldquo;how instinctively
+one always turns to look at the sea;
+inland may be ever so lovely, but if the sea
+is there we generally look in that direction.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Because it is unbounded, like the future,&rdquo;
+said Lavendar. He was looking as he
+spoke at some children playing on the sands
+just beside them. There was a gallant little
+boy among them with a bare curly head, who
+refused help from older sisters and was toiling
+away at his sand castle, his whole soul in his
+work; throwing up spadefuls&ndash;&ndash;tremendous
+ones for four years old&ndash;&ndash;upon its ramparts,
+as if certain they could resist the advancing
+tide.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;What a noble little fellow!&rdquo; exclaimed
+Robinette, catching the direction of Lavendar&rsquo;s
+glance. &ldquo;Isn&rsquo;t he splendid? toiling like
+that; stumping about on those fat brown
+legs!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;How beautiful to have a child like that, of
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_142' name='page_142'></a>142</span>
+one&rsquo;s own!&rdquo; thought Lavendar as he looked.
+On the sands around them, there were numbers
+of such children playing there in the sun.
+It seemed a happy world to him at the moment.</p>
+<p>Suddenly he saw his companion turn
+quickly aside; a nurse in uniform came towards
+them pushing, not a happy crooning
+baby this time, but a little emaciated wisp of
+a child lying back wearily in a wheel chair.
+Something in Robinette&rsquo;s face, or perhaps
+the bit of fluttering lace she wore upon her
+white dress, had attracted its notice, and it
+stretched out two tiny skeleton hands towards
+her as it passed. With a quick gesture,
+brushing tears away that in a moment had
+rushed to her eyes, young Mrs. Loring stepped
+forward, and put her fingers into the wasted
+hands that were held out to her. She hung
+above the child for a moment, a radiant
+figure, her face shining with sympathy and
+a sort of heavenly kindness; her eyes the
+sweeter for their tears.</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_143' name='page_143'></a>143</span></div>
+<p>&ldquo;What is it, darling?&rdquo; she asked. &ldquo;Oh,
+it&rsquo;s the bright rose!&rdquo; Then she hurriedly
+unfastened the flower from her waist-belt
+and turned to Lavendar. &ldquo;Will you please
+take your penknife and scrape away all the
+little thorns,&rdquo; she asked.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;The rose looked very charming where it
+was,&rdquo; he remarked, half regretfully, as he did
+what she commanded.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;It will look better still, presently,&rdquo; she
+answered.</p>
+<p>The child&rsquo;s hands were outstretched longingly
+to grasp the flower, its eyes, unnaturally
+deep and wise with pain, were fixed upon
+Robinette&rsquo;s face. She bent over the chair,
+and her voice was like a dove&rsquo;s voice, Lavendar
+thought, as she spoke. Then the little melancholy
+carriage was wheeled away. Motherhood
+always seemed the most sacred, the supreme
+experience to Robinette; a thing high
+and beautiful like the topmost blooms of
+Nurse Prettyman&rsquo;s plum tree. &ldquo;If one had
+to choose between that sturdy boy and this
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_144' name='page_144'></a>144</span>
+wistful wraith, it would be hard,&rdquo; she thought.
+&ldquo;All my pride would run out to the boy, but
+I could die for love and pity if this suffering
+baby were mine!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Lavendar had turned, and leaned on the
+wall with averted face. &ldquo;Sweet woman!&rdquo; he
+was saying to himself. &ldquo;It is more than a
+merry heart that is able to give such sympathy;
+it&rsquo;s a sad old world after all where
+such things can be; but a woman like that
+can bring good out of evil.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Robinette had seated herself on a low wall
+beside him. Her little embroidered futility of
+a handkerchief was in her hand once more.
+&ldquo;A rose and a smile! that&rsquo;s all we could give
+it,&rdquo; she said; &ldquo;and we would either of us share
+some of that burden if we only could.&rdquo; She
+watched the merry, healthy children playing
+beside them, and added, &ldquo;After all let us
+comfort ourselves that brown cheeks and fat
+legs are in the majority. Rightness somehow
+or other must be at the root of things, or we
+shouldn&rsquo;t be a living world at all.&rdquo;</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_145' name='page_145'></a>145</span></div>
+<p>&ldquo;Amen,&rdquo; said Lavendar, &ldquo;but the sight of
+suffering innocents like that, sometimes makes
+me wish I were dead.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Dead!&rdquo; she echoed. &ldquo;Why, it makes me
+wish for a hundred lives, a hundred hearts
+and hands to feel with and help with.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Ah, some women are made that way.
+My stepmother, the only mother I&rsquo;ve known,
+was like that,&rdquo; Lavendar went on, dropping
+suddenly again into personal talk, as they
+had done before. He and she, it seemed,
+could not keep barriers between them very
+long; every hour they spent together brought
+them more strangely into knowledge of each
+other&rsquo;s past.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;She was a fine woman,&rdquo; he went on,
+&ldquo;with a certain comfortable breadth about
+her, of mind and body; and those large,
+warm, capable hands that seem so fitted
+to lift burdens.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Lavendar was in an absent-minded mood,
+and never much given to noting details at
+any time. He bent over on the low wall in
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_146' name='page_146'></a>146</span>
+retrospective silence, looking at the blue sea
+before them.</p>
+<p>Robinette, who was perched beside him,
+spread her two small hands on her white serge
+knees and regarded them fixedly for a moment.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I wonder if it&rsquo;s a matter of size,&rdquo; she
+said after a moment. &ldquo;I wonder! Let&rsquo;s be
+confidential. When I was a little girl we
+were not at all well-to-do, and my hands
+were very busy. My father&rsquo;s success came
+to him only two or three years before his
+death, when his reputation began to grow
+and his plans for great public buildings
+began to be accepted, so I was my mother&rsquo;s
+helper. We had but one servant, and I
+learned to make beds, to dust, to wipe
+dishes, to make tea and coffee, and to cook
+simple dishes. If Admiral de Tracy&rsquo;s sister
+had to work, Admiral de Tracy&rsquo;s niece was
+certainly going to help! Later on came my
+father&rsquo;s illness and death. We had plenty of
+servants then, but my hands had learned to
+be busy. I gave him his medicines, I changed
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_147' name='page_147'></a>147</span>
+his pillows, I opened his letters and answered
+such of them as were within my powers, I
+fanned him, I stroked his aching head. The
+end came, and mother and I had hardly begun
+to take hold of life again when her health
+failed. I wasn&rsquo;t enough for her; she needed
+father and her face was bent towards him.
+My hands were busy again for months, and
+they held my mother&rsquo;s when she died. Time
+went on. Then I began again to make a home
+out of a house; to use my strength and time
+as a good wife should, for the comfort of
+her husband; but oh! so faultily, for I was
+all too young and inexperienced. It was only
+for a few months, then death came into my
+life for the third time, and I was less than
+twenty. For the first time since I can remember,
+my hands are idle, but it will not be for
+long. I want them to be busy always. I want
+them to be full! I want them to be tired!
+I want them ready to do the tasks my head
+and heart suggest.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Lavendar had a strong desire to take those
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_148' name='page_148'></a>148</span>
+same hands in his and kiss them, but instead
+he rose and spread out his own long brown
+fingers on the edge of the wall, a man&rsquo;s
+hands, fine and supple, but meant to work.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I seem to have done nothing,&rdquo; he exclaimed.
+&ldquo;You look so young, so irresponsible,
+so like a bird on a bough, that I cannot
+associate dull care with you, yet you have
+lived more deeply than I. Life seems to have
+touched me on the shoulder and passed me
+by; these hands of mine have never done a
+real day&rsquo;s work, Mrs. Loring, for they&rsquo;ve
+been the servants of an unwilling brain. I
+hated my own work as a younger man, and,
+though I hope I did not shirk it, I certainly
+did nothing that I could avoid.&rdquo; He paused,
+and went on slowly, &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve thought sometimes,
+of late I mean, that if life is to be worth much,
+if it is to be real life, and not mere existence,
+one must put one&rsquo;s whole heart into it, and
+that two people&ndash;&ndash;&rdquo; He stopped; he was
+silent with embarrassment, conscious of having
+said too much.</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_149' name='page_149'></a>149</span></div>
+<p>&ldquo;Can help each other. Indeed they can,&rdquo;
+Mrs. Loring went on serenely, &ldquo;if they have
+the same ideals. Hardly anyone, fortunately,
+is so alone as I, and so I have to help myself!
+Your sisters, now; don&rsquo;t they help?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Not a great deal,&rdquo; Lavendar confessed.
+&ldquo;One would, but she&rsquo;s married and in India,
+worse luck! The other is&ndash;&ndash;well, she&rsquo;s a
+candid sister.&rdquo; He laughed, and looked up.
+&ldquo;If my best friend could hear my sister
+Amy&rsquo;s view of me, just have a little sketch
+of me by Amy without fear or favour, he,
+or she, would never have a very high opinion
+of me again, and I am not sure but that I
+should agree with her.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Nonsense! my dear friend,&rdquo; exclaimed
+Robinette in a maternal tone she sometimes
+affected,&ndash;&ndash;a tone fairly agonizing to Mark
+Lavendar; &ldquo;we should never belittle the
+stuff that&rsquo;s been put into us! My equipment
+isn&rsquo;t particularly large, but I am going to
+squeeze every ounce of power from it before
+I die.&rdquo;</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_150' name='page_150'></a>150</span></div>
+<p>&ldquo;Life is extraordinarily interesting to you,
+isn&rsquo;t it?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Interesting? It is thrilling! So will it
+be to you when you make up your mind to
+squeeze it,&rdquo; said Robinette, jumping off the
+wall. &ldquo;There is Carnaby signalling; it is
+time we went to the station.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Life would thrill me considerably more
+if Carnaby were not eternally in evidence,&rdquo;
+said Lavendar, but Robinette pretended not
+to hear.</p>
+<hr class='toprule' />
+<div class='chsp'>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_151' name='page_151'></a>151</span>
+<a name='XII_LOVE_IN_THE_MUD' id='XII_LOVE_IN_THE_MUD'></a>
+<h2>XII</h2>
+<h3>LOVE IN THE MUD</h3>
+</div>
+<p>The next day Robinette was once more
+sitting in the boat opposite to Lavendar as he
+rowed. They were going down the river this
+time, not across it. Somehow they had managed
+that afternoon to get out by themselves,
+which sounds very simple, but is a wonderfully
+difficult thing to accomplish when there
+is no special reason for it, and when there
+are several other people in the house.</p>
+<p>Fortunately Mrs. de Tracy did not like to
+be alone, so that wherever she went Miss
+Smeardon had to go too, and there happened
+to be a sale of work at a neighbouring vicarage
+that afternoon where she considered
+her presence a necessity. Robinette had vanished
+soon after luncheon and the middy had
+been dull, so after loitering around for a
+while, he too had disappeared upon some errand
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_152' name='page_152'></a>152</span>
+of his own. Lavendar walked very slowly
+toward the avenue gateway, then he turned
+and came back. He could scarcely believe his
+good fortune when he saw Mrs. Loring come
+out of the house, and pause at the door as if
+uncertain of her next movements. She looked
+uncommonly lovely in a white frock with
+touches of blue, while the ribbon in her hair
+brought out all its gold. She wore a flowery
+garden hat, and a pair of dainty most un-English
+shoes peeped from beneath her short skirt.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Are you going out, or can I take you
+on the river?&rdquo; Lavendar asked, trying without
+much success to conceal the eagerness that
+showed in his voice and eyes.</p>
+<p>Robinette stood for a moment looking at
+him (it seemed as if she read him like a book)
+and then she said frankly, &ldquo;Why yes, there is
+nothing I should like so much, but where is
+Carnaby?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Hang Carnaby! I mean I don&rsquo;t know,
+or care. I&rsquo;ve had too much of his society
+to-day to be pining for it now.&rdquo;</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_153' name='page_153'></a>153</span></div>
+<p>&ldquo;Well, he does chatter like a magpie, but
+I feel he must have such a dull time here
+with no one anywhere near his own age.
+Elderly as I am, I seem a bit nearer than
+Aunt de Tracy or Miss Smeardon. Aunt de
+Tracy, all the same, will never understand
+my relations with that boy, or with anyone
+else for that matter. I did try so hard,&rdquo;
+she went on, &ldquo;when I first arrived, just
+to strike the right note with her, and I&rsquo;ve
+missed it all the time, by that very fact,
+no doubt. I&rsquo;m so unused to trying&ndash;&ndash;at
+home.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;You mean in America?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, of course; I don&rsquo;t try there at all,
+and yet my friends seem to understand me.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Does it seem to you that you could ever
+call England &lsquo;home&rsquo;?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I could not have believed that England
+would so sink into my heart,&rdquo; she said,
+sitting down in the doorway and arranging
+the flowers on her hat. &ldquo;During those first
+dull wet days when I was still a stranger,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_154' name='page_154'></a>154</span>
+and when I looked out all the time at the
+dripping cedars, and felt whenever I opened
+my lips that I said the wrong thing, it
+seemed to me I should never be gay for an
+hour in this country; but the last enchanting
+sunny days have changed all that. I
+remember it&rsquo;s my mother&rsquo;s country, and if
+only I could have found a little affection
+waiting for me, all would have been perfect.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;You may find it yet.&rdquo; Lavendar could
+not for the life of him help saying the words,
+but there was nothing in the tone in which
+he said them to make Robinette conscious of
+his meaning.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m afraid not,&rdquo; she sighed, thinking of
+Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s indifference. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m much
+more American than English, much more my
+father&rsquo;s daughter than the Admiral&rsquo;s niece;
+perhaps my aunt feels that instinctively.
+Now I must slip upstairs and change if we
+are going boating.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Never!&rdquo; cried Lavendar. &ldquo;If I don&rsquo;t
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_155' name='page_155'></a>155</span>
+snatch you this moment from the devouring
+crowd I shall lose you! I will keep you
+safe and dry, never fear, and we shall be
+back well before dark.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>They went down the river after leaving
+the little pier, passing the orchards heaped
+on the hillsides above Wittisham, and Lavendar
+wanted to row out to sea, but Robinette
+preferred the river; so he rowed nearer to
+the shore, where the current was less swift,
+and the boat rocked and drifted with scarcely
+a touch of the oars. They had talked for
+some time, and then a silence had fallen,
+which Robinette broke by saying, &ldquo;I half
+wish you&rsquo;d forsake the law and follow lines
+of lesser resistance, Mr. Lavendar. Do you
+know, you seem to me to be drifting, not
+rowing! I&rsquo;ve been thinking ever since of
+what you said to me on the sands at Weston.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Ungrateful woman!&rdquo; he exclaimed,
+trying to evade the subject, &ldquo;when these
+two faithful arms have been at your service
+every day since we first met! Think of the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_156' name='page_156'></a>156</span>
+pennies you would have taken from that tiny
+gold purse of yours for the public ferry!
+However, I know what you mean; I never
+met anyone so plain-spoken as you, Mrs.
+Robin; I haven&rsquo;t forgotten, I assure you!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;How about the candid sister? Isn&rsquo;t she
+plain-spoken?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, she attacks the outside of the cup
+and platter; you question motive power and
+ideals. Well, I confess I have less of the former
+than I ought, and more of the latter than
+I&rsquo;ve ever used.&rdquo; Lavendar had rested on his
+oars now and was looking down, so that the
+twinkle of his eyes was lost. &ldquo;I suppose I
+shall go on as I have done hitherto, doing
+my work in a sort of a way, and getting a
+certain amount of pleasure out of things,&ndash;&ndash;unless&ndash;&ndash;&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, but that&rsquo;s not living!&rdquo; she exclaimed;
+&ldquo;that&rsquo;s only existing. Don&rsquo;t you
+remember:&ndash;&ndash;</p>
+<table summary=''><tr><td>
+<p class='cg'>It is not growing like a tree<br />
+In bulk doth make man better be.</p>
+</td></tr></table>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_157' name='page_157'></a>157</span></div>
+<p>It&rsquo;s really <i>living</i> I mean, forgetting the
+things that are behind, and going on and
+on to something ahead, whatever one&rsquo;s aim
+may be.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;What are you going to do with yourself,
+if I may ask?&rdquo; said Lavendar. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t be
+too philanthropic, will you? You&rsquo;re so delightfully
+symmetrical now!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I shall have plenty to do,&rdquo; cried Robinette
+ardently. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve told you before, I have
+so much motive power that I don&rsquo;t know how
+to use it.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;How about sharing a little of it with a
+friend!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Lavendar&rsquo;s voice was full of meaning, but
+Robinette refused to hear it. She had succumbed
+as quickly to his charm as he to hers,
+but while she still had command over her
+heart she did not intend parting with it unless
+she could give it wholly. She knew enough of
+her own nature to recognize that she longed
+for a rowing, not a drifting mate, and that
+nothing else would content her; but her instinct
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_158' name='page_158'></a>158</span>
+urged that Lavendar&rsquo;s indecisions and
+his uncertainties of aim were accidents rather
+than temperamental weaknesses. She suspected
+that his introspective moods and his
+occasional lack of spirits had a definite cause
+unknown to her.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I haven&rsquo;t a large income,&rdquo; she said, after
+a moment&rsquo;s silence, changing the subject
+arbitrarily, and thereby reducing her companion
+to a temporary state of silent rage.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Yet no one would expect a woman like
+this to fall like a ripe plum into a man&rsquo;s
+mouth,&rdquo; he thought presently; &ldquo;she will drop
+only when she has quite made up her mind,
+and the bough will need a good deal of shaking!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I haven&rsquo;t a large income,&rdquo; repeated Robinette,
+while Lavendar was silent, &ldquo;only five
+thousand dollars a year, which is of course microscopic
+from the American standpoint and
+cost of living; so I can&rsquo;t build free libraries
+and swimming baths and playgrounds, or do
+any big splendid things; but I can do dear
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_159' name='page_159'></a>159</span>
+little nice ones, left undone by city governments
+and by the millionaires. I can sing,
+and read, and study; I can travel; and there
+are always people needing something wherever
+you are, if you have eyes to see them;
+one needn&rsquo;t live a useless life even if one
+hasn&rsquo;t any responsibilities. But&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;she
+paused&ndash;&ndash;&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve been talking all this time
+about my own plans and ambitions, and I
+began by asking yours! Isn&rsquo;t it strange that
+the moment one feels conscious of friendship,
+one begins to want to know things?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;My sister Amy would tell you I had no
+ambitions, except to buy as many books as I
+wish, and not to have to work too hard,&rdquo; said
+Mark smiling, &ldquo;but I think that would not
+be quite true. I have some, of a dull inferior
+kind, not beautiful ones like yours.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Do tell me what they are.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>He shook his head. &ldquo;I couldn&rsquo;t; they&rsquo;re
+not for show; shabby things like unsuccessful
+poor relations, who would rather not have
+too much notice taken of them. In a few
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_160' name='page_160'></a>160</span>
+weeks I am going to drag them out of their
+retreat, brighten them up, inject some poetry
+into their veins, and then display them to your
+critical judgment.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>They were almost at a standstill now and
+neither of them was noticing it at all. As
+Mrs. Loring moved her seat the boat lurched
+somewhat to one side. Mark, to steady her,
+placed his hand over hers as it rested on the
+rail, and she did not withdraw it. Then he
+found the other hand that lay upon her knee,
+and took it in his own, scarcely knowing
+what he did. He looked into her face and
+found no anger there. &ldquo;I wish to tell you
+more about myself,&rdquo; he stammered, &ldquo;something
+not altogether creditable to me; but
+perhaps you will understand. Perhaps even
+if you don&rsquo;t understand you will forgive.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>She drew her hands gently away from his
+grasp. &ldquo;I shall try to understand, you may
+rely on that!&rdquo; she said.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m not going to trouble you with any
+very dreadful confessions,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;only
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_161' name='page_161'></a>161</span>
+it&rsquo;s better to hear things directly from the
+people concerned, and you are sure to hear
+a wrong version sooner or later.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;Then
+stopping suddenly he exclaimed, &ldquo;Hullo!
+we&rsquo;re stuck, I declare! look at that!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Robinette turned and saw that their boat
+was now scarcely surrounded with water at
+all. On every side, as if the flanks of some
+great whale were upheaving from below, there
+appeared stretches of glistening mud. Just
+in front of them, where there still was a channel
+of water, was an upstanding rock. &ldquo;Shall
+we row quickly there?&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;Then
+perhaps we can get out and pull the boat to
+the other side, where there is more water.
+What has happened?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, something not unusual,&rdquo; said Lavendar
+grimly, &ldquo;that I&rsquo;m a fool, and the sea-tide
+has ebbed, as tides have been known
+to do before. I&rsquo;m afraid a man doesn&rsquo;t watch
+tides when he has a companion like you!
+Now we&rsquo;re left high, but not at all dry, as
+you see, till the tide turns.&rdquo;</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_162' name='page_162'></a>162</span></div>
+<p>By a swift stroke or two he managed to propel
+their craft as far as the rock. They scrambled
+up on it, and then he tried to haul the
+boat around the miniature islet; but the
+more he hauled, the quicker the water seemed
+to run away, and the deeper the wretched
+thing stuck in the mud. He jumped in again,
+and made an effort to push her off with an
+oar; meanwhile Robinette nearly fell off the
+rock in her efforts to get the head of the
+boat around towards the current again, and
+making a frantic plunge into the ooze, sank
+above her ankles in an instant. Lavendar
+caught hold of her and helped her to scramble
+back into the boat. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s all right; only
+my skirt wet, and one shoe gone!&rdquo; she
+panted. &ldquo;Now, what are we to do?&rdquo; She
+spread out her hands in dismay, and looked
+down at her draggled mud-stained skirt, her
+little feet, one shoeless and both covered
+with mud and slime. &ldquo;What an object I
+shall be to meet Aunt de Tracy&rsquo;s eye, when,
+if ever, it does light on me again! Meanwhile
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_163' name='page_163'></a>163</span>
+it seems as if we might be here for
+some hours. The boat is just settling herself
+into the mud bank, like a rather tired fat
+old woman into an armchair, and pray, Mr.
+Lavendar, what do you propose to do? as
+Talleyrand said to the lady who told him she
+couldn&rsquo;t bear it.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Lavendar looked about them; the main bed
+of the river was fifty yards away; between
+it and them was now only an expanse of mud.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s perfectly hopeless,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;the
+best thing we can do is to beget some philosophy.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Which at any moment we would exchange
+for a foot of water,&rdquo; she interpolated.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;We must just sit here and wait for the
+tide. Shall it be in the boat or on the rock?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t see much difference, do you? Except
+that the passing boats, if there are any,
+might think it was a matter of choice to sit on
+a damp rock for two hours, but no one could
+think we wanted to sit in a boat in the mud.&rdquo;</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_164' name='page_164'></a>164</span></div>
+<p>They landed on the rock for the second
+time. &ldquo;For my part it&rsquo;s no great punishment,&rdquo;
+said Lavendar, when they settled
+themselves, &ldquo;since the place is big enough
+for two and you&rsquo;re one of them!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Wouldn&rsquo;t this be as good a stool of repentance
+from which to confess your faults as
+any?&rdquo; asked Robinette, as she tucked her
+shoeless foot beneath her mud-stained skirt
+and made herself as comfortable as possible.
+&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll even offer a return of confidence upon
+my own weaknesses, if I can find them, but
+at present only miles of virtue stretch behind
+me. Ugh! How the mud smells; quite
+penitential! Now:&ndash;&ndash;</p>
+<table summary=''><tr><td>
+<p class='cg'>&ldquo;What have you sought you should have shunned,<br />
+And into what new follies run?&rdquo;</p>
+</td></tr></table>
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, what a bad rhyme!&rdquo; said Lavendar.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s Pythagoras, any way,&rdquo; she explained.</p>
+<p>Then suddenly changing his tone, Lavendar
+went on. &ldquo;This is not merely a jest,
+Mrs. Loring. Before you admit me really
+amongst the number of your friends I should
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_165' name='page_165'></a>165</span>
+like you to know that&ndash;&ndash;to put it plainly&ndash;&ndash;my
+own little world would tell you at the
+moment that I am a heartless jilt.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;That is a very ugly expression, Mr.
+Lavendar, and I shall choose not to believe
+it, until you give me your own version of
+the story.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;In one way I can give you no other;
+except that I was just fool enough to drift
+into an engagement with a woman whom I
+did not really love, and just not enough
+of a fool to make both of us miserable for
+life when I, all too late, found out my mistake.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>There passed before him at that moment
+other foolish blithe little loves, like faded
+flowers with the sweetness gone out of them.
+They had been so innocent, so fragile, so
+free from blame; all but the last; and this
+last it was that threatened to rise like a
+shadow perhaps, and defeat his winning the
+only woman he could ever love.</p>
+<p>Robinette stared at the stretches of ooze,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_166' name='page_166'></a>166</span>
+and then stole a look at Mark Lavendar.
+&ldquo;The idea of calling that man a jilt,&rdquo; she
+thought. &ldquo;Look at his eyes; look at his
+mouth; listen to his voice; there is truth in
+them all. Oh for a sight of the girl he
+jilted! How much it would explain! No, not
+altogether, because the careless making of his
+engagement would have to be accounted for,
+as well as the breaking of it. Unless he did it
+merely to oblige her&ndash;&ndash;and men are such idiots
+sometimes,&ndash;&ndash;then he must have fancied he
+was in love with her. Perhaps he is continually
+troubled with those fancies. Nonsense!
+you believe in him, and you know you do.&rdquo;
+Then aloud she said, sympathetically, &ldquo;I&rsquo;m
+afraid we are apt to make these little experimental
+journeys in youth, when the heart is
+full of <i>wanderlust</i>. We start out on them
+so lightly, then they lead nowhere, and the
+walking back alone is wearisome and depressing.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;My return journey was depressing enough
+at first,&rdquo; said Lavendar, &ldquo;because the particular
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_167' name='page_167'></a>167</span>
+She was unkinder to me than I deserved
+even; but better counsels have prevailed
+and I shall soon be able to meet the
+reproachful gaze of stout matrons and sour
+spinsters more easily than I have for a year
+past; you see the two families were friends
+and each family had a large and interested
+connection!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;If the opinion of a comparative stranger
+is of any use to you,&rdquo; said Robinette, standing
+on the rock and scraping her stockinged
+foot free of mud, &ldquo;<i>I</i> believe in you, personally!
+You don&rsquo;t seem a bit &lsquo;jilty&rsquo; to me!
+I&rsquo;d let you marry my sister to-morrow and
+no questions asked!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I didn&rsquo;t know you had a sister,&rdquo; cried
+Lavendar.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I haven&rsquo;t; that&rsquo;s only a figure of
+speech; just a phrase to show my confidence.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;And isn&rsquo;t it ungrateful to be obliged
+to say I can&rsquo;t marry your sister, after you
+have given me permission to ask her!&rdquo;</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_168' name='page_168'></a>168</span></div>
+<p>&ldquo;Not only ungrateful but unreasonable,&rdquo;
+said Robinette saucily, turning her head to
+look up the river and discovering from her
+point of vantage a moving object around the
+curve that led her to make hazardous remarks,
+knowing rescue was not far away.
+&ldquo;What have you against my sister, pray?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Very little!&rdquo; he said daringly, knowing
+well that she held him in her hand, and could
+make him dumb or let him speak at any
+moment she desired. &ldquo;Almost nothing! only
+that <i>she</i> is not offering me <i>her</i> sister as a
+balm to my woes.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;She <i>has</i> no sister; she is an only child!&ndash;&ndash;There!
+there!&rdquo; cried Robinette, &ldquo;the
+tide is coming up again, and the mud banks
+off in that direction are all covered with
+water! I see somebody in a boat, rowing towards
+us with superhuman energy. Oh! if I
+hadn&rsquo;t worn a white dress! It will <i>not</i> come
+smooth; and my lovely French hat is ruined
+by the dampness! My one shoe shows how
+inappropriately I was shod, and whoever is
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_169' name='page_169'></a>169</span>
+coming will say it is because I am an American.
+He will never know you wouldn&rsquo;t let
+me go upstairs and dress properly.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;It doesn&rsquo;t matter anyway,&rdquo; rejoined
+Mark, &ldquo;because it is only Carnaby coming.
+You might know he would find us even if
+we were at the bottom of the river.&rdquo;</p>
+<hr class='toprule' />
+<div class='chsp'>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_170' name='page_170'></a>170</span>
+<a name='XIII_CARNABY_TO_THE_RESCUE' id='XIII_CARNABY_TO_THE_RESCUE'></a>
+<h2>XIII</h2>
+<h3>CARNABY TO THE RESCUE</h3>
+</div>
+<p>At Stoke Revel, in the meantime, the solemn
+rites of dinner had been inaugurated as
+usual by the sounding of the gong at seven
+o&rsquo;clock. Mrs. de Tracy, Miss Smeardon, and
+Bates waited five minutes in silent resignation,
+then Carnaby came down and was scolded
+for being late, but there was no Robinette
+and no Lavendar.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Carnaby,&rdquo; said his grandmother, &ldquo;do
+you know where Mark intended going this
+afternoon?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;No, I don&rsquo;t,&rdquo; said Carnaby, sulkily.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Your cousin Robinetta,&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;with meaning,&ndash;&ndash;&ldquo;perhaps
+you know her whereabouts?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Not I!&rdquo; replied Carnaby with affected
+nonchalance. &ldquo;I was ferreting with Wilson.&rdquo;
+He had ferreted perhaps for fifteen
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_171' name='page_171'></a>171</span>
+minutes and then spent the rest of the afternoon
+in solitary discontent, but he would not
+have owned it for the world.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Call Bates,&rdquo; commanded Mrs. de Tracy.
+Bates entered. &ldquo;Do you know if Mr. Lavendar
+intended going any distance to-day?
+Did he leave any message?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Mr. Lavendar, ma&rsquo;am,&rdquo; said Bates, &ldquo;Mr.
+Lavendar and Mrs. Loring they went out in
+the boat after tea. Mr. Lavendar asked William
+for the key, and William he went down
+and got out the oars and rudder, ma&rsquo;am.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Does William know where they went?&rdquo;
+asked Mrs. de Tracy in high displeasure.
+&ldquo;Was it to Wittisham?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;No, ma&rsquo;am, William says they went down
+stream. He thinks perhaps they were going
+to the Flag Rock, and he says the gentleman
+wouldn&rsquo;t have a hard pull, as the tide was
+going out. But Mr. Lavendar knows the river
+well, ma&rsquo;am, as well as Mr. Carnaby here.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Then I conclude there is no immediate
+cause for anxiety,&rdquo; said Mrs. de Tracy with
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_172' name='page_172'></a>172</span>
+satire. &ldquo;You can serve dinner, Bates; there
+seems no reason why we should fast as yet!
+However, Carnaby,&rdquo; she continued, &ldquo;as the
+men cannot be spared at this hour, you had
+better go at once and see what has happened
+to our guests.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Right you are,&rdquo; cried Carnaby with the
+utmost alacrity. He was hungry, but the
+prospect of escape was better than food.
+He rushed away, and his boat was in mid-river
+before Mrs. de Tracy and Miss Smeardon
+had finished their tepid soup.</p>
+<p>A very slim young moon was just rising
+above the woods, but her tender light cast
+no shadows as yet, and there were no stars
+in the sky, for it was daylight still. The
+evening air was very fresh and cool; there
+was no wind, and the edges of the river
+were motionless and smooth, although in
+mid-stream the now in-coming tide clucked
+and swirled as it met the rush. Over at
+Wittisham one or two lights were beginning
+to twinkle, and there came drifting across the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_173' name='page_173'></a>173</span>
+water a smell of wood smoke that suggested
+evening fires. Carnaby handled a boat well,
+for he had been born a sailor, as it were, and
+his long, powerful strokes took him along at
+a fine pace. But although he was going to
+look for Robinette and Mark, he was rather
+angry with both of them, and in no hurry.
+He rested on his oars indifferently and let the
+tide carry him up as it liked, while, with infinite
+zest, he unearthed a cigarette case from
+the recesses of his person, lit a cigarette, and
+smoked it coolly. Under Carnaby&rsquo;s apparent
+boyishness, there was a certain somewhat
+dangerous quality of precocity, which was
+stimulated rather than checked by his grandmother&rsquo;s
+repressive system. His smoking
+now was less the monkey-trick of a boy,
+than an act of slightly cynical defiance. He
+was no novice in the art, and smoked slowly
+and daintily, throwing back his head and
+blowing the smoke sometimes through his lips
+and sometimes through his nose. He looked
+for the moment older than his years, and
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_174' name='page_174'></a>174</span>
+a difficult young customer at that. His present
+sulky expression disappeared, however,
+under the influence of tobacco and adventure.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Where the dickens are they?&rdquo; he began
+to wonder, pulling harder.</p>
+<p>A bend in the river presently solved the
+mystery. On a wide stretch of mud-bank,
+which the tide had left bare in going out,
+but was now beginning to cover again, a
+solitary boat was stranded.</p>
+<p>With this clue to guide him, Carnaby&rsquo;s
+bright eyes soon discovered the two dim
+forms in the distance.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Ahoy!&rdquo; he shouted, and received a joyous
+answer. Robinette and Mark were the
+two derelicts, and their rescuer skimmed towards
+them with all his strength.</p>
+<p>He could get only within a few yards of
+the rock to which their boat was tied, and
+from that distance he surveyed them, expecting
+to find a dismal, ship-wrecked pair,
+very much ashamed of themselves and getting
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_175' name='page_175'></a>175</span>
+quite weary of each other. On the contrary
+the faces he could just distinguish in
+the uncertain light, were radiant, and Robinette&rsquo;s
+voice was as gay as ever he had heard
+it. He leaned upon his oars and looked at
+them with wonder.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Angel cousin!&rdquo; cried Robinette. &ldquo;Have
+you a little roast mutton about you somewhere,
+we are so hungry!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;You <i>are</i> a pretty pair!&rdquo; he remarked.
+&ldquo;What have you been and done?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;We just went for a row after tea, Middy
+dear,&rdquo; said Robinette, &ldquo;and look at the result.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;You&rsquo;re not rowing now,&rdquo; observed Carnaby
+pointedly.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;No,&rdquo; said Mark, &ldquo;we gave up rowing
+when the water left us, Carnaby. Conversation
+is more interesting in the mud.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;But how did you get here? I thought
+you were going to the Flag Rock?&rdquo; demanded
+Carnaby.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Is there a Flag Rock, Middy dear? I
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_176' name='page_176'></a>176</span>
+didn&rsquo;t know,&rdquo; said Robinette innocently.
+&ldquo;It shows we shouldn&rsquo;t go anywhere without
+our first cousin once removed. We just
+began to talk, here in the boat, and the water
+went away and left us.&rdquo; Then she laughed,
+and Mark laughed too, and Carnaby&rsquo;s look
+of unutterable scorn seemed to have no
+effect upon them. They might almost have
+been laughing at him, their mirth was so
+senseless, viewed in any other light.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s nearly eight o&rsquo;clock,&rdquo; he said solemnly.
+&ldquo;Perhaps you can form some idea
+as to what grandmother&rsquo;s saying, and Bates.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Well, you&rsquo;re going to be our rescuer,
+Middy darling, so it doesn&rsquo;t matter,&rdquo; said
+Robinette. &ldquo;Look! the water&rsquo;s coming up.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>But Carnaby seemed in no mood for
+waiting. He had taken off his boots, and
+rolled up his trousers above his knees.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;d let Lavendar wade ashore the best
+way he could!&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;but I s&rsquo;pose I&rsquo;ve
+got to save you or there&rsquo;d be a howl.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;No one would howl any louder than you,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_177' name='page_177'></a>177</span>
+dear, and you know it. Don&rsquo;t step in!&rdquo;
+shrieked Robinette, &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve confided a shoe
+already to the river-mud! I just put my foot
+in a bit, to test it, and down the poor foot
+went and came up without its shoe. Oh,
+Middy dear, if your young life&ndash;&ndash;&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Blow my young life!&rdquo; retorted Carnaby.
+He was performing gymnastics on the edge
+of his boat, letting himself down and heaving
+himself up, by the strength of his arms.
+His legs were covered with mud.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;No go!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s as deep as the
+pit here; sometimes you can find a rock or a
+hard bit. We must just wait.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>They had not long to wait after all, for
+presently a rush of the tide sent the water
+swirling round the stranded boat, and carried
+Carnaby&rsquo;s craft to it.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Now it&rsquo;ll be all right,&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;You
+push with the boat-hook, Mark, and I&rsquo;ll pull&rdquo;;
+but it took a quarter of an hour&rsquo;s pushing
+and pulling to get the boat free of the mud.</p>
+<p>Except for the moon it would have been
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_178' name='page_178'></a>178</span>
+quite dark when the party reached the pier.
+They mounted the hill in some silence. It
+was difficult for Robinette to get along with
+her shoeless foot; Lavendar wanted to help
+her, but she demanded Carnaby&rsquo;s arm. He
+was sulking still. There was something he
+felt, but could not understand, in the subtle
+atmosphere of happiness by which the truant
+couple seemed to be surrounded; a something
+through which he could not reach; that
+seemed to put Robinette at a distance from
+him, although her shoulder touched his and
+her hand was on his arm. Growing pangs of
+his manhood assailed him, the male&rsquo;s jealousy
+of the other male. For the moment he
+hated Mark; Mark talking joyous nonsense
+in a way rather unlike himself, as if the night
+air had gone to his head.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I am glad you had the ferrets to amuse
+you this afternoon,&rdquo; said Robinette, in a propitiatory
+tone. &ldquo;Ferrets are such darlings,
+aren&rsquo;t they, with their pink eyes?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;O! <i>darlings</i>,&rdquo; assented Carnaby derisively.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_179' name='page_179'></a>179</span>
+&ldquo;One of the darlings bit my finger
+to the bone, not that that&rsquo;s anything to you.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Oh! Middy dear, I am sorry!&rdquo; cried
+Robinette. &ldquo;I&rsquo;d kiss the place to make it
+well, if we weren&rsquo;t in such a hurry!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Carnaby began to find that a dignified
+reserve of manner was very difficult to keep
+up. His grandmother could manage it, he
+reflected, but he would need some practice.
+When they came to a place where there were
+sharp stones strewn on the road, he became
+a mere boy again quite suddenly, and proposed
+a &ldquo;queen&rsquo;s chair&rdquo; for Robinette. And
+so he and Lavendar crossed hands, and one
+arm of Robinette encircled the boy&rsquo;s head,
+while the other just touched Lavendar&rsquo;s neck
+enough to be steadied by it. Their laughter
+frightened the sleepy birds that night.
+The demoralized remnant of a Bank Holiday
+party would have been, Lavendar observed,
+respectability itself in comparison with them;
+and certainly no such group had ever approached
+Stoke Revel before. They were to
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_180' name='page_180'></a>180</span>
+enter by a back door, and Carnaby was to
+introduce them to the housekeeper&rsquo;s room,
+where he undertook that Bates would feed
+them. Lavendar alone was to be ambassador
+to the drawing room.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;The only one of us with a boot on each
+foot, of course we appoint him by a unanimous
+vote,&rdquo; said Robinette.</p>
+<p>But the chief thing that Carnaby remembered,
+after all, of that evening&rsquo;s adventure,
+was Robinette&rsquo;s sudden impulsive kiss as she
+bade him good-night, Lavendar standing by.
+She had never kissed him before, for all her
+cousinliness, but she just brushed his cool,
+round cheek to-night as if with a swan&rsquo;s-down
+puff.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s a shabby thing to call a kiss!&rdquo;
+said the embarrassed but exhilarated youth.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Stop growling, you young cub, and be
+grateful; half a loaf is better than no bread,&rdquo;
+was Lavendar&rsquo;s comment as he watched the
+draggled and muddy but still charming
+Robinette up the stairway.</p>
+<hr class='toprule' />
+<div class='chsp'>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_181' name='page_181'></a>181</span>
+<a name='XIV_THE_EMPTY_SHRINE' id='XIV_THE_EMPTY_SHRINE'></a>
+<h2>XIV</h2>
+<h3>THE EMPTY SHRINE</h3>
+</div>
+<p>Lavendar had discovered, much to his
+dismay, that he must return to London upon
+important business; it was even a matter of
+uncertainty whether his father could spare
+him again or would consent to his returning to
+Stoke Revel to conclude Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s arrangements
+about the sale of the land.</p>
+<p>Affairs of the heart are like thunderstorms;
+the atmosphere may sometimes seem
+charged with electricity, and yet circumstances,
+like a sudden wind that sweeps the
+clouds away before they break, may cause
+the lovers to drift apart. Or all in a moment
+may come thunder, lightning, and rain from
+a clear sky, and there is nothing that is apt
+to precipitate matters like an unexpected
+parting.</p>
+<p>When Lavendar announced that he had
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_182' name='page_182'></a>182</span>
+to leave Stoke Revel, two pairs of eyes, Miss
+Smeardon&rsquo;s and Carnaby&rsquo;s, instantly looked
+at Robinette to see how she received the news,
+but she only smiled at the moment. She was
+just beginning her breakfast, and like the
+famous Charlotte, &ldquo;went on cutting bread
+and butter,&rdquo; without any sign of emotion.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Hurrah!&rdquo; thought the boy. &ldquo;Now we
+can have some fun, and I&rsquo;ll perhaps make
+her see that old Lavendar isn&rsquo;t the only
+companion in the world.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;She minds,&rdquo; thought Miss Smeardon,
+&ldquo;for she buttered that piece of bread on the
+one side a minute ago, and now she&rsquo;s just
+done it on the other&ndash;&ndash;and eaten it too.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;She doesn&rsquo;t care a bit,&rdquo; thought Lavendar.
+&ldquo;She&rsquo;s not even changed colour; my
+going or staying is nothing to her; I needn&rsquo;t
+come back.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>He had made up his mind to return just
+the same, if it were at all possible, and he
+told Mrs. de Tracy so. She remarked graciously
+that he was a welcome guest at any
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_183' name='page_183'></a>183</span>
+time, and Carnaby, hearing this, pinched
+Lord Roberts till he howled like a fiend, and
+fled for comfort to his mistress&rsquo;s lap.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;You little coward,&rdquo; said Carnaby, &ldquo;you
+should be ashamed to bear the name of a
+hero.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve mentioned to you before, Carnaby,
+I think, that I dislike that jest,&rdquo; said his
+grandmother, and Carnaby advancing to the
+injured beast said, &ldquo;Yes, ma&rsquo;am, and so does
+Bobs, doesn&rsquo;t he, Bobs?&rdquo; reducing the
+lap-dog to paroxysms of fury. &ldquo;Would it
+be any better if I called him <i>Kitchener</i>?&rdquo;
+hissing the word into the animal&rsquo;s face.
+&ldquo;Jealous, Bobs? Eh? <i>Kitchener</i>.&rdquo; This last
+word had a rasping sound that irritated the
+little creature more than ever; his teeth jibbered
+with anger, and Miss Smeardon had
+to offer him a saucer of cream before he
+could be calmed down enough for the rest
+of the party to hear themselves speak.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Had you nice letters this morning?
+Mine were very uninteresting,&rdquo; Robinette remarked
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_184' name='page_184'></a>184</span>
+to Lavendar as they stood together at
+the doorway in the sunshine, while Carnaby
+chased the lap-dog round and round the
+lawn.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I had only two letters; one was from
+my sister Amy, the candid one! her letters
+are not generally exhilarating.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, I know, home letters are usually
+enough to send one straight to bed with a
+headache! They never sound a note of hope
+from first to last; although if you had no
+home, but only a house, like me, with no one
+but a caretaker in it, you&rsquo;d be very thankful
+to get them, doleful or not.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I doubt it,&rdquo; Mark answered, for Amy&rsquo;s
+letter seemed to be burning a hole in his
+pocket at that moment. He had skimmed it
+hurriedly through, but parts of it were already
+only too plain.</p>
+<p>When the others had gone into the house,
+he went off by himself, and jumping the
+low fence that divided the lawn from the
+fields beyond, he flung himself down under
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_185' name='page_185'></a>185</span>
+a tree to read it over again. Carnaby, spying
+him there, came rushing from the house, and
+was soon pouring out a tale of something
+that had happened somewhere, and throwing
+stones as he talked, at the birds circling
+about the ivied tower of the little church.</p>
+<p>The field was full of buttercups up to the
+very churchyard walls. &ldquo;I must get away
+by myself for a bit,&rdquo; Lavendar thought.
+&ldquo;That boy&rsquo;s chatter will drive me mad.&rdquo;
+At this point Carnaby&rsquo;s volatile attention
+was diverted by the sight of a gardener
+mounting a ladder to clear the sparrows&rsquo;
+nests from the water chutes, and he jumped
+up in a twinkling to take his part in this
+new joy. Lavendar rose, and strolled off
+with his hands in his pockets and his bare
+head bent. The grass he walked in was a very
+Field of the Cloth of Gold. His shoes were
+gilded by the pollen from the buttercups, his
+eyes dazzled by their colour; it was a relief to
+pass through the stone archway that led into
+the little churchyard. To his spirit at that moment
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_186' name='page_186'></a>186</span>
+the chill was refreshing. He loitered
+about for a few minutes, and then seeing
+that the door was open, he entered the
+church, closing the door gently behind
+him.</p>
+<p>It was very quiet in there and even the
+chirping of the sparrows was softened into a
+faint twitter. Here at last was a place set
+apart, a moment of stillness when he might
+think things out by himself.</p>
+<p>He took out Amy&rsquo;s letter, smoothing it flat
+on the prayer books before him, and forced
+himself to read it through. The early paragraphs
+dealt with some small item of family
+news which in his present state of mind mattered
+to Lavendar no more than the distant
+chirruping of the birds, out there in the
+sunshine. &ldquo;You seem determined to stay for
+some time at Stoke Revel,&rdquo; his sister wrote.
+&ldquo;No doubt the pretty American is the attraction.
+She sounds charming from your description,
+but my dear man, that&rsquo;s all froth!
+How many times have I heard this sort of
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_187' name='page_187'></a>187</span>
+thing from you before! Remember I know
+everything about your former loves.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;You <i>don&rsquo;t</i>, then,&rdquo; said Lavendar to himself.
+Down, down, down at the bottom of
+the well of the heart where truth lies, there
+is always some remembrance, generally a
+very little one, that can never be told to any
+confidant.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;You will find out faults in Mrs. Loring
+presently, just like the rest of them,&rdquo; continued
+the pitiless writer. (Amy&rsquo;s handwriting
+was painfully distinct.) &ldquo;I must tell
+you that at the Cowleys&rsquo; the other day, I
+suddenly came face to face with Gertrude
+Meredith <i>and Dolly</i>! Dolly looks a good
+deal older already and fatter, I thought. I
+fear she is losing her looks, for her colour
+has become fixed, and she <i>will</i> wear no collars
+still, although on a rather thick neck,
+it&rsquo;s not at all becoming. I spoke to her for
+about three minutes, as it was less awkward,
+when we met suddenly face to face like that.
+She laughed a good deal, and asked for you
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_188' name='page_188'></a>188</span>
+rather audaciously, I thought. They live
+near Winchester now, and since the Colonel&rsquo;s
+death are pretty badly off, Gertrude says.
+Dolly is going to Devonshire to stay with
+the Cowleys; you may meet her there any
+day, remember. It does seem incredible to
+me that a man of your discrimination could
+have been won by the obvious devotion of a
+girl like Dolly; but having given your word
+I almost think you would better have kept
+it, rather than suffer all this criticism from a
+host of mutual friends.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Lavendar groaned aloud. He had a good
+memory, and with all too great distinctness
+did he now remember Dolly Meredith&rsquo;s laugh.
+How wretched it had all been; not a word
+had ever passed between them that had any
+value now. If he could have washed the
+thought of her forever from his memory,
+how greatly he would have rejoiced at that
+moment.</p>
+<p>Well, it was over; written down against
+him, that he had been what the world called
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_189' name='page_189'></a>189</span>
+a jilt and a fool; yes, certainly a fool, but
+not so great a one as to follow his folly to
+its ultimate conclusion, and tie himself for
+life to a woman he did not love.</p>
+<p>Lavendar was extraordinarily sensitive
+about the breaking of his engagement; partly
+because Miss Meredith herself, in her first
+rage, had avowed his responsibility for her
+blighted future, giving him no chance for
+chivalrous behaviour; partly because in all
+his transient love affairs he had easily tired
+of the women who inspired them. He seemed
+thirsty for love, but weary of it almost as
+soon as the draught reached his lips.</p>
+<p>And now had he a chance again?&ndash;&ndash;or
+was it all to end in disappointment once
+more, in that cold disappointment of the
+heart that has received stones for bread? It
+was not entirely his own fault; he had expected
+much from life, and hitherto had received
+very little. But Robinette!</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Let me find all her faults now,&rdquo; he said
+to himself, &ldquo;or evermore keep silent; meantime
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_190' name='page_190'></a>190</span>
+I hope I am not concealing too many
+of my own.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>He tried to force himself into criticism;
+to look at her as a cold observer from the
+outside would have done; for that curious
+Border country of Love which he had entered
+has not an equable climate at all. It
+is fire and frost alternate; and criticism is
+either roused almost to a morbid pitch, or
+else the faculty is drugged, and nothing,
+not even the enumeration of a hundred
+foibles will awaken it for a time.</p>
+<p>When the cold fit had been upon him the
+evening before, Lavendar had said to himself
+that her manner was too free&ndash;&ndash;that she had
+led him on too quickly; no, that expression
+was dishonourable and unjust; he repented
+it instantly; she had been too unself-conscious,
+too girlish, too unthinking, in what
+she said and did. &ldquo;But she&rsquo;s a widow after
+all, though she&rsquo;s only two and twenty,&rdquo;
+he went on to himself. &ldquo;Hang it! I wish
+she were not! If her heart were in her husband&rsquo;s
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_191' name='page_191'></a>191</span>
+grave I should be moaning at that;
+and because I see that it is not, I become
+critical. There&rsquo;s nothing quite perfect in
+life!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>He had begun by noticing some little defects
+in her personal appearance, but he was
+long past that now; what did such trifles
+matter, here or there? Then he remembered
+all that he had heard said about American
+women. Did those pretty clothes of hers mean
+that she would be extravagant and selfish to
+obtain them? Could a young man with no
+great fortune offer her the luxury that was
+necessary to her? and even so, what changes
+come with time! He had a full realization
+of what the boredom of family life can be,
+when passion has grown stale.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;At seventy, say, when I am palsied and
+she is old and fat, will romance be alive
+then? Will such feeling leave anything
+real behind it when it falls away, as the
+white blossoms on Mrs. Prettyman&rsquo;s plum
+tree will shrink and fall a fortnight hence?&rdquo;</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_192' name='page_192'></a>192</span></div>
+<p>He looked about him. On the walls of
+the little church were tablets with the de
+Tracy names; the names of her forefathers
+amongst them. Under his feet were other
+flags with names upon them too; and out
+there in the sunshine were the grave-stones
+of a hundred dead. How many of them had
+been happy in their loves?</p>
+<p>Not so many, he thought, if all were told,
+and why should he hope to be different?
+Yet surely this was a new feeling, a worthy
+one, at last. It was not for her charming
+person that he loved her; not because of
+her beauty and her gaiety only; but because
+he had seen in her something that gave a
+promise of completion to his own nature,
+the something that would satisfy not only
+his senses but his empty heart.</p>
+<p>He clenched his hands on the carved top of
+the old pew in front of him, which was fashioned
+into a laughing gnome with the body
+of a duck. &ldquo;And if this should be all a
+dream,&rdquo; he asked himself again, &ldquo;if this
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_193' name='page_193'></a>193</span>
+should all be false too! Good Lord!&rdquo; he
+cried half aloud, &ldquo;I want to be honest now!
+I want to find the truth. My whole life is
+on the throw this time!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>There was a moment&rsquo;s silence after he had
+uttered the words. He got up and moved
+slowly down the aisle, opening the door, seeing
+again the meadow of buttercups, yellow
+as gold, and listening again to the sparrows
+chirruping in the sunshine outside.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I have been in that church a quarter of
+an hour,&rdquo; he said to himself, &ldquo;and in trying
+to dive to the depths of myself and find
+out whether I was giving a woman all I had
+to give, I did not get time to consider that
+woman&rsquo;s probable answer, should I place my
+uninteresting life and liberty at her disposal.&rdquo;</p>
+<hr class='toprule' />
+<div class='chsp'>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_194' name='page_194'></a>194</span>
+<a name='XV_NOW_LUBIN_IS_AWAY' id='XV_NOW_LUBIN_IS_AWAY'></a>
+<h2>XV</h2>
+<h3>&ldquo;NOW LUBIN IS AWAY&rdquo;</h3>
+</div>
+<p>Lavendar made his adieux after luncheon
+and went off to London. &ldquo;Good-bye for the
+present, Mrs. de Tracy; I shall be back on
+Wednesday probably, if I can arrange it,&rdquo;
+he said. &ldquo;Good-bye, Mrs. Loring,&rdquo; and here
+he altered the phrase to &ldquo;Shall I come back
+on Wednesday?&rdquo; for his hostess had left the
+open door.</p>
+<p>There was no hesitation, but all too little
+sentiment, about Robinette&rsquo;s reply.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Wednesday, at the latest, are my orders,&rdquo;
+she answered merrily, and with the words ringing
+in his ears Lavendar took his departure.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Do you remember that this is the afternoon
+of the garden party at Revelsmere?&rdquo;
+Mrs. de Tracy enquired, coming into the
+drawing room a few minutes later, where
+Mrs. Loring stood by the open window. She
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_195' name='page_195'></a>195</span>
+had allowed herself just five minutes of depression,
+staring out at the buttercup meadow.
+How black the rooks looked as they flew
+about it and how dreary everything was, now
+that Lavendar had gone! She was woman
+enough to be able to feel inwardly amused
+at her own absurdity, when she recognized
+that the ensuing three days seemed to stretch
+out into a limitless expanse of dullness. &ldquo;The
+village seemed asleep or dead now Lubin was
+away!&rdquo; Still, after all, it was an occasion
+for wearing a pretty frock, and she knew
+herself well enough to feel sure that the
+sight of a few of her fellow-creatures even
+pretending to enjoy themselves, would make
+her volatile spirits rise like the mercury in a
+thermometer on a hot day.</p>
+<p>Miss Smeardon was to be her companion,
+as Mrs. de Tracy had a headache that afternoon
+and was afraid of the heat, she said.
+&ldquo;What heat?&rdquo; Robinette had asked innocently,
+for in spite of the brilliant sunlight
+the wind blew from the east, keen as a knife.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_196' name='page_196'></a>196</span>
+&ldquo;I shall take a good wrap in the carriage
+in spite of this tropical temperature,&rdquo; she
+thought. Carnaby refused point blank to
+drive with them; he would bicycle to the
+party or else not go at all, so it was alone
+with Miss Smeardon that Robinette started in
+the heavy old landau behind the palsied horse.</p>
+<p>Miss Smeardon gave one glance at Mrs.
+Loring&rsquo;s dress, and Robinette gave one glance
+at Miss Smeardon&rsquo;s, each making her own
+comments.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;That white cloth will go to the cleaner,
+I suppose, after one wearing, and as for
+that thing on her head with lilac wistaria
+drooping over the brim, it can&rsquo;t be meant
+as a covering, or a protection, either from sun
+or wind; it&rsquo;s nothing but an ornament!&rdquo;
+Miss Smeardon commented; while to herself
+Robinette ejaculated,&ndash;&ndash;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;A penwiper, an old, much-used penwiper,
+is all that Miss Smeardon resembles
+in that black rag!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Carnaby, watching the start at the door,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_197' name='page_197'></a>197</span>
+whistled in open admiration as Robinette
+came down the steps.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Well, well! we are got up to kill this
+afternoon; pity old Mark has just gone; but
+cheer up, Cousin Robin, there&rsquo;s always a
+curate on hand!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>For once Robinette&rsquo;s ready tongue played
+her false, and a sense of loneliness overcame
+her at the sound of Lavendar&rsquo;s name. She
+gathered up her long white skirts and got
+into the carriage with as much dignity as she
+could muster, while Carnaby, his eyes twinkling
+with mischief, stood ready to shut the
+door after Miss Smeardon.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Hope you&rsquo;ll enjoy your drive,&rdquo; he jeered.
+&ldquo;You&rsquo;ll need to hold on your hats. Bucephalus
+goes at such fiery speed that they&rsquo;ll
+be torn off your heads unless you do.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Middy dear, you&rsquo;re not the least amusing,&rdquo;
+said Robinette quite crossly, and with
+a lurch the carriage moved off.</p>
+<p>Miss Smeardon settled herself for conversation.
+&ldquo;I&rsquo;m afraid you will find me but a
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_198' name='page_198'></a>198</span>
+dull companion, Mrs. Loring,&rdquo; she said,
+glancing sideways at Robinette from under
+the brim of her mushroom hat.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, you will be able to tell me who everyone
+is,&rdquo; said Robinette as cheerfully as she
+could.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I am no gossip,&rdquo; Miss Smeardon protested.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;It isn&rsquo;t necessary to gossip, is it?&ndash;&ndash;but
+I&rsquo;ve a wholesome interest in my fellow creatures.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;And it is well to know about people a
+little; when one comes among strangers as
+you do, Mrs. Loring; one can&rsquo;t be too careful&ndash;&ndash;an
+American, particularly.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Miss Smeardon&rsquo;s voice trailed off upon a
+note of insinuation; but Robinette took no
+notice of the remark. She did not seem to
+have anything to say, so Miss Smeardon took
+up another subject.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;What a pity that Mr. Lavendar had to
+leave before this afternoon; he would have
+been such an addition to our party!&rdquo;</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_199' name='page_199'></a>199</span></div>
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, wouldn&rsquo;t he?&rdquo; Robinette agreed,
+though she carefully kept out of her voice
+the real passion of assent that was in her
+heart.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Mr. Lavendar is so agreeable, I always
+think,&rdquo; Miss Smeardon went on. &ldquo;Everyone
+likes him; he almost carries his pleasant ways
+too far. I suppose that was how&ndash;&ndash;&rdquo; She
+paused, and added again, &ldquo;Oh, but as I said,
+I never talk scandal!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Do you think it&rsquo;s possible to be too pleasant?&rdquo;
+Robinette remarked, stupidly enough,
+scarcely caring what she said.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Well, when it leads a poor girl to imagine
+that she is loved! I hear that Dolly
+Meredith is just heart-broken. The engagement
+kept on for quite a year, I believe,
+and then to break it off so heartlessly!&ndash;&ndash;I
+was reminded of it all by coming here. Miss
+Meredith is a cousin of our hostess, and they
+met first at Revelsmere when they were quite
+young.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;There is always a certain amount of talk
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_200' name='page_200'></a>200</span>
+when an engagement has to be broken off,&rdquo;
+said Robinette in a cold voice.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;They seemed quite devoted at first,&rdquo;
+Miss Smeardon began; but Robinette interrupted
+her.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;The sooner such things are forgotten the
+better, I think,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;No one, except
+the two people concerned, ever knows the real
+truth.&ndash;&ndash;Tell me, Miss Smeardon, whom we
+are likely to meet at Revelsmere? Who is our
+hostess? What sort of parties does she give?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Being so firmly switched off from the affairs
+of Mr. Lavendar and Miss Meredith, it
+was impossible for Miss Smeardon to talk
+about them any more, and she had to turn to
+a less congenial theme.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;We shall meet the neighbours,&rdquo; she told
+Robinette, &ldquo;but I am afraid they may not
+interest you very much. I understand that
+in America you are accustomed to a great
+deal of the society of gentlemen. Here there
+are so few, and all of them are married.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;All?&rdquo; laughed Robinette.</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_201' name='page_201'></a>201</span></div>
+<p>&ldquo;Well, there is Mr. Finch, the curate,
+but he is a celibate; and young Mr. Tait of
+Strewe, but he is slightly paralysed.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Why, Carnaby must be quite an eligible
+bachelor in these parts,&rdquo; said Robinette; but
+Miss Smeardon was so deadly literal that she
+accepted the remark as a serious one.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Not quite yet; in a few years&rsquo; time we
+shall need to be very careful, there are so
+many girls here, but not all of them desirable,
+of course.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;There are? What a dull time they must
+have with the Married Men, the Celibate, the
+Paralytic, and Carnaby! I&rsquo;m glad my girlhood
+wasn&rsquo;t spent in Devonshire.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Conversation ended here, for the carriage
+rumbled up the avenue, and Robinette looked
+about her eagerly. Revelsmere was a nice old
+house, surrounded by fine sloping lawns and
+a background of sombre beechwoods. The
+lawns to-day were dotted with groups of people,
+mainly women, and elderly at that. As
+Robinette and Miss Smeardon alighted at
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_202' name='page_202'></a>202</span>
+the door an elderly hostess welcomed them,
+and an elderly host led them across the lawn
+and straightly they fell into the clutches of
+more and more elderlies.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;It is fairly bewildering!&rdquo; Robinette cried
+in her heart; then she saw a bevy of girls approaching;
+such nice-looking girls, happy,
+well dressed, but all unattended by their
+suitable complement of young men.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;For whom do they dress, here? They&rsquo;ve
+a deal of self-respect, I think, to go on getting
+themselves up so nicely for themselves and
+the Celibate, the Paralytic, and Carnaby,&rdquo;
+thought Robinette, as she watched them.</p>
+<p>Presently another couple came across the
+lawn; the young woman was by no means a
+girl, rather heavily built, with a high fixed
+colour. She was attended by a man. &ldquo;Not
+the Celibate certainly,&rdquo; thought Mrs. Loring
+with a glance at his bullock-like figure, his
+thick neck, and glossy black hair, &ldquo;nor the
+Paralytic; and it&rsquo;s not Carnaby. It must
+be a new arrival!&rdquo;</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_203' name='page_203'></a>203</span></div>
+<p>At that moment it began to rain, but nothing
+daunted, their hostess approached her,
+and saying pleasantly that she wished to introduce
+her to Miss Meredith, she left Robinette
+and the young woman standing together
+under a spreading tree, and took the gentleman
+away with her.</p>
+<p>The moment that she heard the name, Robinette
+realized who Miss Meredith was. They
+seated themselves side by side on a garden
+bench, and Miss Meredith remarked upon the
+heat, planting a rather fat hand upon the
+arm of the garden seat, and surveying it complacently,
+especially the very bright diamond
+ring upon the third finger.</p>
+<p>After a few preliminary remarks, she asked
+Mrs. Loring if she were stopping in the
+neighbourhood.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, I am staying at Stoke Revel for a
+short time,&rdquo; Robinette replied; &ldquo;Mrs. de
+Tracy is my aunt, or at least I am Admiral
+de Tracy&rsquo;s niece.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Her companion did not seem to take the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_204' name='page_204'></a>204</span>
+least interest in this part of the information,
+only when Stoke Revel was mentioned she
+looked around suddenly as if surprised.</p>
+<p>They talked upon indifferent subjects,
+while Robinette, as she watched Miss Meredith,
+was saying a good deal to herself,
+although she only spoke aloud about the
+weather and the Devonshire scenery.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I will be just, if I can&rsquo;t be generous,&rdquo;
+she thought. &ldquo;She has (or she must once
+have had) a fine complexion. I dare say
+she is sincere enough; she may be sensible;
+she might be good-humoured,&ndash;&ndash;when
+pleased.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;There is going to be a shower,&rdquo; said
+Miss Meredith, &ldquo;but I&rsquo;ve nothing on to
+spoil,&rdquo; she added, glancing at Robinette&rsquo;s
+hat.</p>
+<p>Sitting there on the bench, hearing the spitting
+rain upon the water below them and
+watching the leaden mists that slowly gathered
+over the landscape, Robinette fell upon
+a moment of soul sickness very unusual to
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_205' name='page_205'></a>205</span>
+her. Miss Meredith too was silent, absorbed
+in her own thoughts.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;If she had looked even a little different
+it would have been so much easier to explain,&rdquo;
+thought Robinette. Then suddenly
+she glanced up. She saw that her companion&rsquo;s
+face had softened, and changed. There
+was a look,&ndash;&ndash;Robinette caught it just for
+one moment,&ndash;&ndash;such as a proud angry child
+might have worn: sulky, hurt to the heart,
+but determined not to cry. Instantly a chord
+was struck in Robinette&rsquo;s soul. &ldquo;She has suffered,
+anyway,&rdquo; she thought. &ldquo;May I be forgiven
+for my harsh judgment!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>With a shiver she drew her wrap about
+her shoulders, and Miss Meredith turned towards
+her. The expression Robinette had
+noticed passed from the high-coloured face
+and left it as before, self-complacent and
+slightly patronizing. &ldquo;You seem to feel
+cold,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I never do; which is rather
+unfortunate, as I&rsquo;m just going out to
+India!&rdquo;</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_206' name='page_206'></a>206</span></div>
+<p>&ldquo;Indeed? How soon are you going?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;In about six weeks. I&rsquo;m just going to
+be married, and we sail directly afterwards,&rdquo;
+said Miss Meredith. &ldquo;You saw Mr. Joyce, I
+think, when we came up together a few minutes
+ago?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>A weight as if of a ton of lead was lifted
+from Robinette&rsquo;s heart as she spoke. She
+could scarcely refrain from jumping up to
+throw her arms about Dolly Meredith&rsquo;s neck
+and kiss her. As it was, she bubbled over with
+a kind of sympathetic interest that astonished
+the other woman. It is only too easy
+to lead an approaching bride to talk about
+her own affairs, for she can seldom take in
+the existence of even her nearest and dearest
+at such a time, and in a few minutes the
+two young women were deep in conversation.
+When a quarter of an hour later Miss Smeardon
+appeared to tell Robinette that they
+must be going, she looked up with a start at
+the sound of footsteps on the gravel path.
+&ldquo;Oh, you are here, Mrs. Loring; we couldn&rsquo;t
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_207' name='page_207'></a>207</span>
+think where you had gone,&rdquo; said Miss Smeardon,
+acidly.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;And here is Miss Meredith of all people!&rdquo;
+she continued, &ldquo;I thought you were sure to
+be on the tennis court, Miss Meredith; Mr.
+Joyce is playing now.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, we have had such a delightful talk,&rdquo;
+said Dolly, so flushed with pleasure that Miss
+Smeardon gazed at her in astonishment.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;If only I knew her well enough to send
+her a munificent wedding present! How I
+should love to do so; just to register my own
+joy,&rdquo; said Robinette to herself. As it was
+she shook hands very warmly with Miss
+Meredith before they parted, and when half
+way across the lawn, looked back again, and
+waved her hand gaily. Miss Meredith was
+pacing the grass, and treading heavily beside
+her, with a very gallant air, was her bullock-like
+young man.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Mr. Joyce is quite wealthy,&rdquo; said Miss
+Smeardon. &ldquo;I understand that he is an only
+son too, and will some day inherit a fine property.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_208' name='page_208'></a>208</span>
+Miss Meredith is most fortunate, at her
+age and with her history.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Robinette said nothing. She looked out at
+the glistening reaches of the river, now shining
+through the silver mist; at the fields
+yellow with buttercups, and the folds of the
+distant hills. As they drove up the lane to
+the house, the birds, refreshed by the rain,
+were singing like angels. In her heart too,
+something was singing as blithely as any bird
+amongst them all.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Sometimes, sometimes our mistakes do
+not come home to roost!&rdquo; she thought, &ldquo;but
+fly away and make nests elsewhere&ndash;&ndash;rich
+nests in India too!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;How did you enjoy the party, Cousin
+Robin?&rdquo; said Carnaby, who was waiting
+for them in the doorway. &ldquo;I had a good
+tuck-in of strawberries. The ladies were a
+little young for my taste; just immature
+girls; no one under sixty, and rather frisky,
+don&rsquo;t you think? By the way did you see
+Number One and her millionaire?&rdquo;</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_209' name='page_209'></a>209</span></div>
+<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know what you mean by Number
+One,&rdquo; said Robinette, haughtily, as she passed
+in at the door.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;You will, when you&rsquo;re Number Two!&rdquo;
+rejoined Carnaby, stooping to pinch Lord
+Roberts&rsquo; tail till the hero yelped aloud.</p>
+<hr class='toprule' />
+<div class='chsp'>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_210' name='page_210'></a>210</span>
+<a name='XVI_TWO_LETTERS' id='XVI_TWO_LETTERS'></a>
+<h2>XVI</h2>
+<h3>TWO LETTERS</h3>
+</div>
+<p>Lavendar tore up his fourth sheet of paper
+and began afresh. &ldquo;Dear Mrs. Loring.&rdquo;
+No, that would not do; he took another
+sheet, and began again:&ndash;&ndash;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;My dear Mrs. Loring,&ndash;&ndash;Your commission
+for old Mrs. Prettyman has taken some
+little time to execute, for I had to go to two
+or three shops before finding a chair &lsquo;with
+green cushions, and a wide seat, so comfortable
+that it would almost act as an an&aelig;sthetic
+if her rheumatism happened to be bad,
+and yet quite suitable for a cottage room.&rsquo;
+These were my orders, I think, and like all
+your orders they demand something better
+than the mere perfunctory observance. My
+own proportions differing a good deal from
+those of the old lady, it is still an open question
+whether what seemed comfortable to me
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_211' name='page_211'></a>211</span>
+will be quite the same to her. I can but
+hope so, and the chair will be dispatched
+at once.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;London is noisy and dusty, and grimy
+and stuffy, and, to one man at least, very,
+very dull. A boat on Greenshaw ferry seems
+the only spot in the world where any gaiety
+is to be found. You can hear the cuckoos
+calling across the river as you read this, no
+doubt, and Carnaby is rendered happier than
+he deserves by being allowed to row you
+down to tell Mrs. Prettyman about the
+chair. I feel as if, like the Japanese, I could
+journey a hundred miles to worship that
+wonderful tree.&ndash;&ndash;Don&rsquo;t let the blossoms
+fall until I come!</p>
+<p>&ldquo;There seems a good deal of business to
+be done. My father unfortunately is no
+better, so he cannot come down to Stoke
+Revel, and I shall probably return upon
+Wednesday morning. A poem of Browning&rsquo;s
+runs in my head&ndash;&ndash;something about
+three days&ndash;&ndash;I can&rsquo;t quote exactly.</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_212' name='page_212'></a>212</span></div>
+<p>&ldquo;If my sister were writing this letter, she
+would say that I have been very hard to
+please, and uninterested in everything since
+I came home. Indeed it seems as if I were.
+London in this part of it, in hot weather,
+makes a man weary for green woods, a sliding
+river, and a Book of Verses underneath
+a Bough. Well, perhaps I shall have all of
+them by Wednesday afternoon. You will
+think I can do nothing but grumble. All
+the same, into what was the mere dull routine
+of uncongenial work before, your influence
+has come with a current of new energy;
+like the tide from the sea swelling up into
+the inland river.&ndash;&ndash;I&rsquo;m at it again! Rivers
+on the brain evidently.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I hope meanwhile that Carnaby behaves
+himself, and is not too much of a bore, and
+that England,&ndash;&ndash;England in spring at least,
+is gaining a corner in your heart? Your
+mother called it home, remember. Yes, do
+try to remember that!</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Did you go to the garden party? Did you
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_213' name='page_213'></a>213</span>
+walk? Did you drive? Did you like it?
+Who was there? Were you dull?&rdquo;</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+<p>There was a postscript:&ndash;&ndash;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I have found the verse from Browning,
+&lsquo;So I shall see her in three days.&rsquo;</p>
+<p class='ralign'>&ldquo;M. L.&rdquo;</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+<p class='ralign'>&ldquo;Tuesday, 19th.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Dear Mr. Lavendar: First, many thanks
+for Nurse&rsquo;s armchair, which arrived in perfect
+order, and is a shining monument to
+your good taste. She does nothing but look
+at it, shrouding it when she retires to bed
+with an old table-cover, to protect it from the
+night air.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Whether she will ever make its acquaintance
+thoroughly enough to sit in it I do not
+know, but it will give her an enormous
+amount of pleasure. Perhaps her glow of
+pride in its possession does her as much good
+as the comfort she might take in its use.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Her &lsquo;rheumatics&rsquo; are very painful just
+now, and I have a good deal to do with
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_214' name='page_214'></a>214</span>
+Duckie. You remember Duckie? I call her
+Mrs. Mackenzie, after that lady in The Newcomes
+who talked the Colonel to death. Mrs.
+Mackenzie is heavy, elderly, and strong-willed.
+I am acquainted with every bone, tendon,
+and sinew in her body, having to lift her
+into a coop behind the cottage where she
+will not wake Nurse at dawn with her eternal
+quacking. She has heretofore slept under
+Nurse&rsquo;s bedroom window and dislikes change
+of any kind. So lucky she has no offspring!
+I tremble to think of what maternal example
+might do in such a talkative family!</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Stoke Revel is as it was and ever will be,
+world without end; only Aunt de Tracy is
+crosser than when you are here and life is
+not as gay, although Carnaby does his dear,
+cubbish best. If ever you desire your mental
+jewels to shine at their brightest; if ever you
+wish a tolerably good disposition to seem
+like that of an angel; if ever, in a fit of
+vanity, you would like to appear as a blend
+of Apollo, Lancelot, Demosthenes, Prince
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_215' name='page_215'></a>215</span>
+Charlie, Ajax, and Solomon, just fly to Stoke
+Revel and become part of the household.
+Assume nothing; simply appear, and the
+surroundings will do the rest; like the penny-in-the-slot
+arrangements. Seen upon a
+background of Bates, William, Benson, Big
+Cummins, the Curate, Miss Smeardon, and
+may I dare to add, the lady of the Manor
+herself,&ndash;&ndash;any living breathing man takes on
+an Olympian majesty. I shouldn&rsquo;t miss you
+in Boston nor in London; perhaps even in
+Weston I might find a wretched substitute,
+but here you are priceless!</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I have some news for you. On Saturday
+Miss Smeardon and I went to a garden party.
+That was what it was called. The thermometer
+was only slightly below zero when we
+started, and that luminary masquerading as
+the sun was pretending to shine. Soon after
+we arrived at the festive scene, there were
+gusts of wind and rain. I sought the shelter
+of a spreading tree, the kitchen fire not
+being available, and I was joined there by
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_216' name='page_216'></a>216</span>
+the hostess, who presented her niece, your
+Miss Meredith.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Dear Mr. Lavendar, this is a subject we
+cannot write about, you and I. I am loyal
+to my sex, and what Miss Meredith said, and
+looked, and did, are all as sacred to me as
+they ought to be. I only want to tell you
+that she is happy; that she has this very
+week become engaged, and is going to
+India with her husband in a month. Now
+that little cankerworm, that has been gnawing
+at your roots of life for the last year or
+two, has done its worst, and you are perfectly
+free to go and make other mistakes.
+I only hope you&rsquo;ll get &lsquo;scot free&rsquo; from those,
+too, for I don&rsquo;t like to see nice men burn
+their fingers. We became such good friends
+huddled up in that boat when we were stuck
+in the mud&ndash;&ndash;Ugh! I can smell it now!&ndash;&ndash;that
+I am glad to be the first to send you
+pleasant news.</p>
+<p class='ralign'>&ldquo;Sincerely yours,<span class='rindent8'>&nbsp;</span><br />
+&ldquo;<span class='smcap'>Robinetta Loring</span>.&rdquo;<span class='rindent2'>&nbsp;</span></p>
+<hr class='toprule' />
+<div class='chsp'>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_217' name='page_217'></a>217</span>
+<a name='XVII_MRS_DE_TRACY_CROSSES_THE_FERRY' id='XVII_MRS_DE_TRACY_CROSSES_THE_FERRY'></a>
+<h2>XVII</h2>
+<h3>MRS. DE TRACY CROSSES THE FERRY</h3>
+</div>
+<p>Lavendar&rsquo;s blunt refusal, except under
+certain conditions, to announce to Mrs.
+Prettyman her coming ejection from the
+cottage at Wittisham, was unprofessional
+enough, as he himself felt; but it was final
+and categorical. Conveying as it did a sort
+of tacit remonstrance, this refusal had an
+unfortunate effect, for it only served to rouse
+Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s formidable obstinacy. She
+had seized upon one point only in their numberless
+and wearisome discussions of the
+matter: Mrs. Prettyman had no legal claim
+upon Stoke Revel. To give her compensation
+for the plum tree would be to allow
+that she had; to create a precedent highly
+dangerous under the circumstances. How
+could one refuse to other old women or old
+men leaving their cottages what one had
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_218' name='page_218'></a>218</span>
+weakly granted to her? The demands would
+be unceasing, the trouble endless. So arguing,
+Mrs. de Tracy soon brought herself to
+a state of determination bordering on a sort
+of mania. She was old, and in exaggerated
+harshness her life was retreating as it were
+into its last stronghold, at bay.</p>
+<p>As good as her word, for she had vowed
+she would warn Mrs. Prettyman herself, and
+she was never one to procrastinate, the lady
+of the Manor proceeded to plan her visit to
+Wittisham. She had not crossed the river
+for years. Wittisham, one of the loveliest
+villages in England, perhaps, though little
+known, was a thorn in her side, as it would
+have been in that of any other landlord with
+empty pockets.</p>
+<p>What you could not deal with to your
+own advantage, it was better to ignore, and
+on this autocratic principle, Mrs. de Tracy
+had left Wittisham to itself.</p>
+<p>But now the boat carried her there, alone
+and fierce&ndash;&ndash;<i>thrawn</i>, as the Scotch say&ndash;&ndash;bent
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_219' name='page_219'></a>219</span>
+upon a course of conduct that she knew
+would hold her up to the hatred of every right-thinking
+person of her acquaintance, and
+bitterly triumphant in the knowledge. The
+meanness of her errand never struck her.
+On the contrary, she would have argued it
+was one well worthy of her, a part of the
+scheme in the consummation of which she
+had spent her married life and her whole
+indomitable energy, losing actually her own
+identity in the process, and becoming an
+inexorable machine. That scheme was the
+holding together of Stoke Revel for the
+de Tracys, the maintenance of family dignity
+and power, the pre-eminence of a race that
+had always ruled. The river beneath her,
+carrying her to the fulfilment of her duty,
+the noble river, widening to the sea, subject
+to its tides and made turbulent by its storms,
+typified to Mrs. de Tracy only the greatness
+of Stoke Revel. From its banks the
+de Tracys had sent out, generation after
+generation, men who had commanded fleets,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_220' name='page_220'></a>220</span>
+who had upheld the national honour upon
+the farthest seas, very often at the cost
+of life. There was no sacrifice of herself
+at which Mrs. de Tracy would have hesitated
+in upholding this ideal, no sacrifice
+of others, either. What was Lizzie Prettyman
+in comparison? A bag of old bones, fit
+for nothing but the workhouse!</p>
+<p>&ldquo;A little faster, William,&rdquo; said the widow,
+sitting upright in the stern, and William the
+footman bent to his oars, the beads of perspiration
+standing on his brow. When Mrs.
+de Tracy stepped out upon the pier, she had
+to be reminded where the Prettyman cottage
+was.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;You&rsquo;ll know it by the plum tree,
+ma&rsquo;am,&rdquo; said William respectfully, &ldquo;everybody
+does.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>It was not far off on the river side. The
+tide had ebbed and left a stretch of muddy
+foreshore in front of it, where the rotting
+poles for hanging the fishing nets out to
+dry stood gauntly up. Mrs. de Tracy approached
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_221' name='page_221'></a>221</span>
+the steps, which merged into the
+flagged path before the door, and paused to
+survey the property she intended to part
+with. She had no eye for the picturesque.
+A few white petals from the blossoming plum
+tree, scattered by the breeze, fell upon her
+black bonnet and shoulders. A faint scent
+of honey came from it and the hum of bees,
+for the day was warm. The tumble-down
+condition of the cottage engaged Mrs. de
+Tracy&rsquo;s attention.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;And for this,&rdquo; she thought scornfully,
+&ldquo;a man will give hundreds of pounds!
+There&rsquo;s truth in the adage that a fool and
+his money are soon parted!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>She mounted the steps that led up to the
+patch of garden, her keen, cold eyes everywhere
+at once. &ldquo;A cat can&rsquo;t sneeze without
+she &rsquo;ears &rsquo;im!&rdquo; her villagers at Stoke Revel
+were wont to say, disappearing into their
+houses as rabbits into their burrows at sight
+of a terrier.</p>
+<p>Old Elizabeth Prettyman stood at her
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_222' name='page_222'></a>222</span>
+door, and it took some time to make her
+realize who her august visitor was. She was
+getting blind; she had never been a favourite
+with Mrs. de Tracy, nor had she entered
+Stoke Revel Manor since her nursling disgraced
+it by marrying a Bean. She curtseyed
+humbly to the great lady.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;There now, ma&rsquo;am,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;it&rsquo;s not
+often we have seen you across the river. Will
+you please to come inside and sit down,
+ma&rsquo;am? &rsquo;T is very warm this afternoon, it is.&rdquo;
+She was a good deal fluttered in her welcome,
+for there was that in Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s air
+that seemed to bode misfortune.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I shall sit down for a few minutes, Elizabeth,&rdquo;
+was the reply, &ldquo;while I explain my
+visit to you.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Mrs. Prettyman stood aside respectfully,
+and Mrs. de Tracy swept past her into the
+cottage and seated herself there. It never
+occurred to her to ask the old woman to sit
+down in her own house; she expected her
+to stand throughout the interview. Without
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_223' name='page_223'></a>223</span>
+further preamble, then, Mrs. de Tracy came
+to the point:&ndash;&ndash;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Elizabeth,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;I have come to
+tell you that I am going to sell the land on
+which this cottage stands, and that you will
+have to find some other home.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>The old woman did not understand for a
+minute. &ldquo;You be going to sell the land,
+ma&rsquo;am?&rdquo; she repeated stupidly.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, I am. A gentleman from London
+wishes to buy it; you will need to go.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;A gentleman from London! Lor, ma&rsquo;am,
+no gentleman from London wouldn&rsquo;t live
+&rsquo;ere!&rdquo; Elizabeth cried, perfectly dazed by
+the statement.</p>
+<p>Mrs. de Tracy repeated: &ldquo;It is not your
+business, Elizabeth, what he intends to do
+with the place; all you have to do is to remove
+from the house.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>The old woman sank down on the nearest
+chair and covered her face with her hands.
+She was so old and so tired that she had no
+heart to face life under new conditions, even
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_224' name='page_224'></a>224</span>
+should they be better than those she left. A
+younger woman would have snapped her
+fingers in Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s face, so to speak,
+and wished her joy of her old rattletrap of
+a house, but Elizabeth Prettyman, after a
+lifetime of struggles, had not vitality enough
+for such an action. She had never dreamed
+of leaving the cottage, and where was she
+to go? Her furrowed face wore an expression
+of absolute terror now when she looked
+up.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;But where be I to live, ma&rsquo;am?&rdquo; she
+cried.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I do not know, Elizabeth; you must arrange
+that with your relations,&rdquo; said Mrs. de
+Tracy.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t &rsquo;ave but only me niece&ndash;&ndash;&rsquo;er as
+married down Exeter way.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Well, you should write to her then.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;She don&rsquo;t want to keep me, Nettie don&rsquo;t,&ndash;&ndash;she&rsquo;s
+but a poor man&rsquo;s wife, and five
+chillen she &rsquo;as; it&rsquo;s not like as if she were
+me daughter, ma&rsquo;am.&rdquo;</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_225' name='page_225'></a>225</span></div>
+<p>&ldquo;You have some small sum of money of
+your own every year, have you not?&rdquo; Mrs.
+de Tracy asked.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Ten pound a year, ma&rsquo;am; the same that
+me &rsquo;usband left me; two &rsquo;undred pounds
+&rsquo;e &rsquo;ad saved and &rsquo;t is in an annuity; that&rsquo;s all
+I &rsquo;ave&ndash;&ndash;that and me plum tree.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;The plum tree is not yours, either, Elizabeth;
+that belongs to the land,&rdquo; said Mrs.
+de Tracy curtly.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&rsquo;T was me &rsquo;usband planted it, ma&rsquo;am,
+years ago. We watched &rsquo;en and pruned &rsquo;en
+and tended &rsquo;en like a child we did&ndash;&ndash;an&rsquo; now
+to be told &rsquo;er ain&rsquo;t mine!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;You&rsquo;re forgetting yourself, Elizabeth, I
+think,&rdquo; said Mrs. de Tracy. It was simply
+impossible for her to see with the old woman&rsquo;s
+eyes; all she remembered was the legal fact
+that any tree planted in Stoke Revel ground
+belonged to the owner of the ground.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;But ma&rsquo;am, &rsquo;t is a big part of me living
+is the plum tree; only yesterday I says to
+the young lady&ndash;&ndash;Miss Cynthia&rsquo;s young lady&ndash;&ndash;I
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_226' name='page_226'></a>226</span>
+says, &lsquo;Dear knows how &rsquo;t would be with
+me without I had the plum tree.&rsquo;&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I cannot help that, Elizabeth: the
+plum tree is not yours, it belongs to Stoke
+Revel.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Then ma&rsquo;am, you&rsquo;ll be &rsquo;lowing me something
+for it surely?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;No,&rdquo; said Mrs. de Tracy obstinately,
+&ldquo;you have no legal claim to compensation,
+Elizabeth. I cannot undertake to allow you
+anything for what is not yours. If I did it
+in your case you know quite well I should
+have to do it in many others.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>There was a long and heavy silence. Elizabeth
+Prettyman was taking in her sentence
+of banishment from her old home; Mrs. de
+Tracy was merely wondering how long it
+would take her to walk down that nasty steep
+bit of path to the ferry. At last the old
+woman looked up.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;When must I be goin&rsquo; then, ma&rsquo;am?&rdquo;
+she asked meekly.</p>
+<p>Mrs. de Tracy considered. &ldquo;The transfer
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_227' name='page_227'></a>227</span>
+of land from one person to another generally
+takes some time: you will have several weeks
+here still; I shall send you notice later which
+day to quit.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Thank you, ma&rsquo;am,&rdquo; said Elizabeth simply,
+and added, &ldquo;The plum tree blossoms &rsquo;ul
+be over by that time.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t see what that has to do with it,&rdquo;
+said Mrs. de Tracy, in whose heart there was
+room for no sentiment.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&rsquo;T would have been &rsquo;arder leavin&rsquo; it in
+blossom time,&rdquo; the old woman explained;
+but her hearer could not see the point. She
+rose slowly from her chair and looked around
+the cottage.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I am glad to see that you keep your
+place clean and respectable, Elizabeth,&rdquo; she
+said. &ldquo;I wish you good afternoon.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Elizabeth never rose from her chair to see
+her visitor to the door&ndash;&ndash;(an omission which
+Mrs. de Tracy was not likely to overlook)&ndash;&ndash;she
+just sat there gazing stupidly around the
+tiny kitchen and muttering a word or two
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_228' name='page_228'></a>228</span>
+now and then. At last she got up and tottered
+to the garden.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll &rsquo;ave to leave it all&ndash;&ndash;leave the old
+bench as me William did put for me with
+his own &rsquo;ands, and leave Duckie, Duckie
+can&rsquo;t never go to Exeter if I goes there,&ndash;&ndash;and
+leave the plum tree.&rdquo; She limped across
+the little bit of sunny turf, and stood under
+the white canopy of the blossoming tree,
+leaning against its slender trunk. &ldquo;Pity &rsquo;t is
+we ain&rsquo;t rooted in the ground same as the
+trees are,&rdquo; she mused. &ldquo;Then no one couldn&rsquo;t
+turn us out; only the Lord Almighty cut
+us down when our time came; Lord knows
+I&rsquo;m about ready for that now&ndash;&ndash;grave-ripe
+as you may say.&rdquo; She leaned her poor weary
+old head against the tree stem and wept,
+ready, ah! how ready, at that moment, to lay
+down the burden of her long and toilsome
+life.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Good afternoon, Nursie dear!&rdquo; a clear
+voice called out in her ear, and Elizabeth
+started to find that Robinette had tip-toed
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_229' name='page_229'></a>229</span>
+across the grass and was standing close beside
+her. She lifted her tear-stained face up
+to Robinette&rsquo;s as a child might have done.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve to quit, Missie,&rdquo; she sobbed, &ldquo;to
+leave me &rsquo;ome and Duckie and the plum
+tree, an&rsquo; I&rsquo;ve no place to go to, and naught
+but my ten pounds to live on&ndash;&ndash;and &rsquo;t won&rsquo;t
+keep me without I&rsquo;ve the plum tree, not
+when I&rsquo;ve rent to pay from it; not if I don&rsquo;t
+eat nothing but tea an&rsquo; bread never again!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>In a moment Robinette&rsquo;s arms were about
+her: her soft young cheeks pressed against
+the withered old face.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;What&rsquo;s this you&rsquo;re saying, Nurse?&rdquo;
+she cried. &ldquo;Leaving your cottage? Who
+said so?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s true, dear, quite true; &rsquo;asn&rsquo;t the
+lady &rsquo;erself been here to tell me so?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Was that what Aunt de Tracy was here
+about? I met her on the road five minutes
+ago; she said she had been here on business!
+But tell me, Nurse, why does she want
+you to leave? Are you going to get a better
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_230' name='page_230'></a>230</span>
+cottage? Does she think this one isn&rsquo;t
+healthy for you?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;No, no, dear, &rsquo;t isn&rsquo;t that, she &rsquo;ve sold
+the cottage over me &rsquo;ead, that&rsquo;s what &rsquo;t is,
+or she&rsquo;s going to sell it, to a gentleman
+from London&ndash;&ndash;Lord knows what a gentleman
+from London wants wi&rsquo; &rsquo;en&ndash;&ndash;and I&rsquo;ve
+to quit.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Robinette tried to be a peacemaker.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Then you&rsquo;ll get a much more comfortable
+house, that&rsquo;s quite certain. You know,
+though this one is lovely on fine days like
+this, that the thatch is all coming off, and
+I&rsquo;m sure it&rsquo;s damp inside! Just wait a bit,
+and see if you don&rsquo;t get some nice cosy little
+place, with a sound roof and quite dry, that
+will cure this rheumatism of yours.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>But Mrs. Prettyman shook her head.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;No, no, there won&rsquo;t be no cosy place
+given to me; I&rsquo;m no more worth than an
+old shoe now, Missie, and I&rsquo;m to be turned
+out, the lady said so &rsquo;erself; said as I must
+go to Exeter to live with me niece Nettie,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_231' name='page_231'></a>231</span>
+and &rsquo;er don&rsquo;t want us&ndash;&ndash;Nettie don&rsquo;t&ndash;&ndash;and
+whatever shall I do without I &rsquo;ave Duckie
+and the plum tree?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, but&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;Robinette began, quite incredulously,
+and the old woman took up her
+lament again.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;And I asked the lady, wouldn&rsquo;t I &rsquo;ave
+something allowed me for the plum tree&ndash;&ndash;that
+&rsquo;ave about clothed me for years back?
+And &lsquo;No,&rsquo; she says, &lsquo;&rsquo;t ain&rsquo;t your plum tree,
+Elizabeth, &rsquo;t is mine; I can&rsquo;t &rsquo;low nothing on
+me own plum tree.&rsquo;&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Robinette still refused to believe the story.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Nurse, dear,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;you&rsquo;re a tiny
+bit deaf now, you know, and perhaps you
+misunderstood about leaving. Suppose you
+keep your dear old heart easy for to-night,
+and I&rsquo;ll come down bright and early to-morrow
+and tell you what it really is! If you
+have to leave the plum tree you&rsquo;ll get a
+fine price put on it that may last you for
+years; it&rsquo;s such a splendid tree, anyone can
+see it&rsquo;s worth a good deal.&rdquo;</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_232' name='page_232'></a>232</span></div>
+<p>&ldquo;That it be, Missie, the finest tree in
+Wittisham,&rdquo; the old woman said, drying her
+eyes, a little comforted by the assurance in
+Robinette&rsquo;s voice and manner.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;There now, we won&rsquo;t have any more
+tears: I&rsquo;ve brought a new canister of tea I
+sent for to London. I&rsquo;m just dying to taste
+if it&rsquo;s good; we&rsquo;ll brew it together, Nursie;
+I shall carry out the little table from the
+kitchen and we&rsquo;ll drink our tea under the
+plum tree,&rdquo; Robinette cried.</p>
+<p>She was carrying a great parcel under
+her arm, and when Mrs. Prettyman opened
+it, she could scarcely believe that this lovely
+red tin canister, filled with pounds of fragrant
+tea, could really be hers! The sight of
+such riches almost drove away her former
+fears. Robinette whisked into the kitchen
+and came out carrying the little round table
+which she set down under the white canopy
+of the plum tree. Then together they brought
+out the rest of the tea things, and what a
+merry meal they had!</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_233' name='page_233'></a>233</span></div>
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s just nonsense and a bit of deafness
+on your part, Nurse, so we won&rsquo;t remember
+anything about leaving the house, we are
+only going to think of enjoyment,&rdquo; Robinette
+announced. Then the old woman was
+comforted, as old people are wont to be by
+the brave assurances of those younger and
+stronger than themselves, forgot the spectre
+that seemed to have risen suddenly across her
+path, and laughed and talked as she sipped
+the fragrant London tea.</p>
+<hr class='toprule' />
+<div class='chsp'>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_234' name='page_234'></a>234</span>
+<a name='XVIII_THE_STOKE_REVEL_JEWELS' id='XVIII_THE_STOKE_REVEL_JEWELS'></a>
+<h2>XVIII</h2>
+<h3>THE STOKE REVEL JEWELS</h3>
+</div>
+<p>&ldquo;Hullo! Cousin Robin, hurry up, you&rsquo;ll
+need all your time!&rdquo; It was Carnaby of course
+who saluted Robinette thus, as she came
+towards the house on her return from Wittisham.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m not late, am I?&rdquo; she said, consulting
+her watch.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I thought you&rsquo;d be making a tremendous
+toilette; one of your killing ones to-night,&rdquo;
+Carnaby said. &ldquo;Do! I love to see you all
+dressed up till old Smeardon&rsquo;s eyes look as if
+they would drop out when you come into the
+room.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll wear my black dress, and her eyes
+may remain in her head,&rdquo; Robinette laughed.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;And what about Mark&rsquo;s eyes? Wouldn&rsquo;t
+you like them to drop out?&rdquo; the boy asked
+mischievously. &ldquo;He&rsquo;s come back by the afternoon
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_235' name='page_235'></a>235</span>
+train while you were away at Wittisham.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, has he?&rdquo; Robinette said, and Carnaby
+stared so hard at her, that to her intense annoyance
+she blushed hotly.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Horrid lynx-eyed boy,&rdquo; she said to herself
+as she ran upstairs, &ldquo;He&rsquo;s growing up
+far too quickly. He needs to be snubbed.&rdquo;
+She dashed to the wardrobe, pulled out the
+black garment, and gave it a vindictive shake.
+&ldquo;Old, dowdy, unbecoming, deaconess-district-visitor-bible-woman,
+great-grand-auntly
+thing!&rdquo; she cried.</p>
+<p>Then her eye lighted on a cherished lavender
+satin. She stood for a moment deliberating,
+the black dress over her arm, her eyes
+fixed upon the lavender one that hung in the
+wardrobe.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t care,&rdquo; she cried suddenly: &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll
+wear the lavender, so here goes! Men are all
+colour blind, so he&rsquo;ll merely notice that I look
+nice. I must conceal from myself and everybody
+else how depressed I am over the interview
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_236' name='page_236'></a>236</span>
+with Nurse, and how I dread discussing
+the cottage with Aunt de Tracy. That must
+be done the first thing after dinner, or I shall
+lose what little courage I have.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Lavendar thought he had never seen her
+look so lovely as when he met her in the
+drawing room a quarter of an hour later.
+There was nothing extraordinary about the
+dress but its exquisite tint and the sheen
+of the soft satin. The suggestion that lay in
+the colour was entirely lost upon him, however:
+if asked to name it he would doubtless
+have said &ldquo;purplish.&rdquo; How he wished that he
+might have escorted her into the dining room,
+but Mrs. de Tracy was his portion as usual,
+and Robinette was waiting for Carnaby, who
+seemed unaccountably slow.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Your arm, Middy, when you are quite
+ready,&rdquo; she said to him at last. Carnaby&rsquo;s
+extraordinary unreadiness seemed to arise
+from his trying to smuggle some object up
+his sleeve. This proved, a few moments later,
+to be a bundle of lavender sticks tied with
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_237' name='page_237'></a>237</span>
+violet ribbon that he had discovered in his
+bureau drawer. He laid it by Robinette&rsquo;s
+plate with a whispered &ldquo;My compliments.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;What does your cousin want that bunch
+of lavender for, at the table?&rdquo; Mrs. de Tracy
+enquired.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;She likes lavender anywhere, ma&rsquo;am,&rdquo;
+Carnaby said with a wink on the side not
+visible by his grandmother. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s a favourite
+of hers.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Robinette could only be thankful that
+Lavendar was occupied in a <i>sotto voce</i> discussion
+of wine with Bates, and she was able
+to conceal the bundle of herbs before his eyes
+met hers, for the fury she felt against her
+precious young kinsman at that moment she
+could have expressed only by blows.</p>
+<p>Dinner seemed interminably long. Robinette,
+for more reasons than one, was preoccupied;
+Lavendar made few remarks, and
+Carnaby was possessed by a spirit of perfectly
+fiendish mischief, saying and doing everything
+that could most exasperate his grandmother,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_238' name='page_238'></a>238</span>
+put her guests to the blush, and
+shock Miss Smeardon.</p>
+<p>But at last Mrs. de Tracy rose from the
+table, and the ladies followed her from the
+room, leaving Lavendar to cope alone with
+Carnaby.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;My fair American cousin is more than
+usually lovely to-night, eh, Mr. Lavendar?&rdquo;
+the boy said, with his laughable assumption
+of a man of the world.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;There, my young friend; that will do!
+you&rsquo;re talking altogether too much,&rdquo; said
+Lavendar, as he poured himself out a glass
+of wine and sat down by the open window to
+drink it. Carnaby, perhaps not unreasonably
+offended, lounged out of the room, and left
+the older man to his own meditations.</p>
+<p>Robinette in the meantime went into the
+drawing room with her aunt, and they sat
+down together in the dim light while Miss
+Smeardon went upstairs to write a letter.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Aunt de Tracy,&rdquo; Robinette began, &ldquo;I
+was calling on Mrs. Prettyman just after you
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_239' name='page_239'></a>239</span>
+had been with her this afternoon, and do
+you know the dear old soul had taken the
+strangest idea into her head! She says you
+are going to ask her to leave the cottage.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;The land on which her cottage stands is
+about to be sold,&rdquo; said Mrs. de Tracy. &ldquo;It
+is necessary that she should move.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, she quite understood that; but she
+thinks she is not going to get another house;
+that was what was distressing her, naturally.
+Of course she hates to leave the old place,
+but I believe if she gets another nicer cottage,
+that will quite console her,&rdquo; said Robinette
+quickly.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I have no vacant cottage on the estate
+just now,&rdquo; said Mrs. de Tracy quietly.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Then what is she to do? Isn&rsquo;t it impossible
+that she should move until another
+place is made ready for her?&rdquo; Robinette
+rose and stood beside the table, leaning the tips
+of her fingers on it in an attitude of intense
+earnestness. She was trying to conceal the
+anger and dismay she felt at her aunt&rsquo;s reply.</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_240' name='page_240'></a>240</span></div>
+<p>&ldquo;Mrs. Prettyman has relatives at Exeter,&rdquo;
+said Mrs. de Tracy without the quiver of an
+eyelid.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Yes; but they are poor. They aren&rsquo;t
+very near relations, and they don&rsquo;t want her.
+O Aunt de Tracy, is it necessary to make
+her leave? She depends upon the plum tree
+so! She makes twenty-five dollars a year
+from the jam!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Dollars have no significance for me,&rdquo;
+said Mrs. de Tracy with an icy smile.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Well, pounds then: five pounds she
+makes. How is she ever going to live without
+that, unless you give her the equivalent?
+It&rsquo;s half her livelihood! I promised you
+would consider it? Was I wrong?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Old bitternesses rose in Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s
+heart, the prejudices and the grudges of
+a lifetime. Everything connected with
+Robinette&rsquo;s mother had been wrong in her
+eyes, and now everything connected with
+Robinette was wrong too, and becoming
+more so with startling rapidity.</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_241' name='page_241'></a>241</span></div>
+<p>&ldquo;You had no right whatsoever to make
+any promises on my behalf,&rdquo; she now said
+harshly. &ldquo;You have acted foolishly and officiously.
+This is no business of yours.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll gladly make it my business if you&rsquo;ll
+let me, Aunt de Tracy!&rdquo; pleaded Robinette.
+&ldquo;If you don&rsquo;t feel inclined to provide for Mrs.
+Prettyman, mayn&rsquo;t I? She is my mother&rsquo;s
+old nurse and she shan&rsquo;t want for anything
+as long as I have a penny to call my own!&rdquo;
+Robinette&rsquo;s eyes filled with tears, but Mrs.
+de Tracy was not a whit moved by this show
+of emotion, which appeared to her unnecessary
+and theatrical.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;You are forgetting yourself a good deal
+in your way of speaking to me on this subject,&rdquo;
+she said coldly. &ldquo;When I behaved unbecomingly
+in my youth, my mother always
+recommended me to go upstairs, shut myself
+up alone in my room, and collect my
+thoughts. The process had invariably a
+calming effect. I advise you to try it.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Robinette did not need to be proffered the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_242' name='page_242'></a>242</span>
+hint twice. She rushed out of the room like a
+whirlwind, not looking where she went. In
+the hall, she came face to face with Lavendar,
+who had just left the dining room.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Mr. Lavendar!&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;Do go into
+the drawing room and speak to my aunt.
+Preach to her! Argue with her! Convince
+her that she can&rsquo;t and mustn&rsquo;t act in this
+way; can&rsquo;t go and turn Mrs. Prettyman out,
+and rob her of the plum tree, and leave her
+with hardly a penny in the world or a roof
+over her head!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s not a very pretty or a very pleasant
+business, Mrs. Loring, I admit,&rdquo; said Lavendar
+quietly.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Is it English law?&rdquo; cried Robinette
+with indignation. &ldquo;If it is, I call it mean
+and unjust!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Sometimes the laws seem very hard,&rdquo;
+said Lavendar. &ldquo;I&rsquo;d like to discuss this
+affair with you quietly another time.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>As he spoke, Carnaby appeared and wanted
+to be told what the matter was, but Robinette
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_243' name='page_243'></a>243</span>
+discovered that it is not very easy to criticise
+a grandmother to her youthful grandson,
+more especially when the lady in question is
+your hostess.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Aunt de Tracy and I have had a little difference
+of opinion about Mrs. Prettyman and
+her cottage, and the plum tree,&rdquo; she said to the
+boy quietly, and Lavendar nodded approval.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Prettyman&rsquo;s got the sack, hasn&rsquo;t she?&rdquo;
+Carnaby enquired with a boy&rsquo;s carelessness.</p>
+<p>Robinette looked very grave. &ldquo;My dear
+old nurse is to leave her cottage,&rdquo; she said
+with a quiver in her voice. &ldquo;She&rsquo;s to lose
+her plum tree&ndash;&ndash;&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;But of course she&rsquo;ll get compensation,&rdquo;
+cried Carnaby.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;No, Middy; she&rsquo;s to get no compensation,&rdquo;
+said Robinette in a low voice.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Well, I call that jolly hard! It&rsquo;s a beastly
+shame,&rdquo; said Carnaby, evidently pricking
+up his ears and with a sudden frown that
+changed his face. &ldquo;I say, Mark&ndash;&ndash;&rdquo; But
+Lavendar did not think the moment suitable
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_244' name='page_244'></a>244</span>
+for a discussion of Mrs. Prettyman&rsquo;s wrongs.
+Besides, he did not wish Robinette to be
+banished from the drawing room for a whole
+interminable evening. He contrived to silence
+Carnaby for the time being.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Let&rsquo;s bury the hatchet for a little while,&rdquo;
+he suggested. &ldquo;Have you forgotten, Mrs.
+Loring, that I made Mrs. de Tracy promise
+to show off the Stoke Revel jewels for your
+benefit this very night?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;O! but now I&rsquo;m in disgrace, she won&rsquo;t!&rdquo;
+said Robinette.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, she will!&rdquo; said Carnaby. &ldquo;Nothing
+puts the old lady in such a heavenly
+temper as showing off the jewels. Don&rsquo;t you
+miss it, Cousin Robin! It&rsquo;s like the Tower
+of London and Madam Tussaud&rsquo;s rolled into
+one, this show, I can assure you. Come on!
+Come back into the drawing room. Needn&rsquo;t
+be afraid when Mark&rsquo;s there!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Robinette found that a black look or two
+was all that she had to fear from Mrs. de
+Tracy at present, and even these became less
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_245' name='page_245'></a>245</span>
+severe under the alchemy of Lavendar&rsquo;s tact.
+A reminder that an exhibition of the jewelry
+had been promised was graciously received.
+Bates and Benson were summoned, and
+armed with innumerable keys, they descended
+to subterranean regions where safes were
+unlocked and jewel-boxes solemnly brought
+into the drawing room. Mrs. de Tracy wore
+an air almost devotional, as she unlocked the
+final receptacles with keys never allowed to
+leave her own hands.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;If the proceedings had begun with
+prayer and ended with a hymn, it wouldn&rsquo;t
+have surprised me in the least!&rdquo; Robinette
+said to herself, looking silently on. Her silence,
+luckily for her, was taken for the
+speechlessness of awe, and did a good deal
+to make up, in the eyes of her august relative,
+for her late indiscretions. As a matter
+of fact, her irreverent thoughts were mostly
+to the effect that all but the historical pieces
+of the Stoke Revel <i>corbeille</i> would be the
+better of re-setting by Tiffany or Cartier.</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_246' name='page_246'></a>246</span></div>
+<p>Mrs. de Tracy opened an old shagreen
+case and the firelight flickered on the diamonds
+of a small tiara.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;This is a part of the famous Montmorency
+set,&rdquo; she announced proudly, with the
+tone of a Keeper of Regalia. Then she took
+out a rope of pearls ending in tassels. &ldquo;These
+belonged to Marie Antoinette,&rdquo; she said.</p>
+<p>An emerald set was next produced, and the
+emeralds, it was explained, had once adorned
+a crown. Deep green they were, encrusted
+in their diamond setting; costly, unique;
+but they left Robinette cold, though like
+most American women, she loved precious
+stones as an adornment. One of those emeralds,
+she was thinking, was worth fifty
+times more than old Lizzie Prettyman&rsquo;s cottage:
+the sale of one of them would have
+averted that other sale which was to cause
+so much distress to a poor harmless old
+woman.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;When do you wear your jewels, Aunt
+de Tracy?&rdquo; she asked gravely.</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_247' name='page_247'></a>247</span></div>
+<p>&ldquo;I have not worn them since the Admiral&rsquo;s
+death,&rdquo; was the virtuous reply, &ldquo;and I have
+never called or considered them mine, Robinetta.
+They are the de Tracy jewels. When
+Carnaby takes his place as the head of the
+house, they will be his. He will see that his
+wife wears them on the proper occasions.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Carnaby&rsquo;s wife!&rdquo; thought Robinette.
+&ldquo;Why! she mayn&rsquo;t be born! He may never
+have a wife! And to think of all those precious
+stones hiding their brightness in these
+boxes like prisoners in a dungeon for years
+and years, only to be let out now and then
+by Bates and Benson, jingling their keys like
+jailers! And this house is a prison too!&rdquo; she
+said to herself; &ldquo;a prison for souls!&rdquo; and
+the thought of its hoarded wealth made her
+indignant; all this hidden treasure in a house
+where there was never enough to eat, where
+guests shivered in fireless bedrooms, where
+servants would not stay because they were
+starved! And Carnaby, too, whose youth was
+being embittered by unnecessary economies:
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_248' name='page_248'></a>248</span>
+Carnaby, who had so little pocket-money that
+he was a laughing-stock among his fellows&ndash;&ndash;it
+was for Carnaby these sacrifices were being
+made! Strange traditions! Fetiches of family
+pride almost as grotesque to her thinking as
+those of any savages under the sun.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;My poor dear Middy!&rdquo; she thought.
+&ldquo;What chance has he, brought up in an atmosphere
+like this?&rdquo; But she happened to raise
+her eyes at the moment, and to see the actual
+Carnaby of the moment, not the Carnaby her
+gloomy imagination was evoking from the
+future with the &ldquo;petty hoard of maxims
+preaching down&rdquo; his heart. He had contrived
+to get hold of the Marie Antoinette pearls
+without his grandmother&rsquo;s knowledge and
+to hang them around his neck; he had poised
+the Montmorency tiara on his own sleek
+head; he had forced a heavy bracelet by way
+of collar round Rupert&rsquo;s throat, and now
+with that choking and goggling unfortunate
+held partner-wise in his arms, he was waltzing
+on tiptoe about the farther drawing
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_249' name='page_249'></a>249</span>
+room behind the unconscious backs of Mrs.
+de Tracy and Miss Smeardon.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;He&rsquo;s only a careless boy,&rdquo; thought Robinette,
+&ldquo;a happy-go-lucky, devil-may-care,
+hare-brained youngster. They can&rsquo;t have
+poisoned his nature yet, and I&rsquo;m sure he has
+a good heart. If he were at the head of affairs
+at Stoke Revel instead of his grandmother,
+I wonder what would be done in
+the matter of my poor old nurse?&rdquo; Robinette
+stood in the doorway for a moment
+before going up to her room. Her whole attitude
+spoke depression as Carnaby stole up
+behind her.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;See here, Cousin Robin, I can&rsquo;t bear to
+have you go on like this. Don&rsquo;t take Prettyman&rsquo;s
+trouble so to heart. We&rsquo;ll do something!
+I&rsquo;ll do something myself! I have a
+happy thought.&rdquo;</p>
+<hr class='toprule' />
+<div class='chsp'>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_250' name='page_250'></a>250</span>
+<a name='XIX_LAWYER_AND_CLIENT' id='XIX_LAWYER_AND_CLIENT'></a>
+<h2>XIX</h2>
+<h3>LAWYER AND CLIENT</h3>
+</div>
+<p>Robinette had a bad night after the
+jewel exhibition, and a heavy head and aching
+eyes prompted her to ask Little Cummins
+to bring her breakfast to her bedroom.</p>
+<p>It was touching to see that small person
+hovering over Robinette: stirring the fire,
+sweeping the hearth, looping back the curtains,
+tucking the slippers out of sight, and
+moving about the room like a mother ministering
+to an ailing child. Finally she staggered
+in with the heavy breakfast tray that
+she had carried through long halls and up
+the stairs, and put it on the table by the
+bed.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;There&rsquo;s a new-laid egg, ma&rsquo;am, that cook
+&rsquo;ad for the mistress, but I thought you
+needed it more; an&rsquo; I brewed the tea meself,
+to be sure,&rdquo; she cooed; &ldquo;an&rsquo; I&rsquo;ve spread
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_251' name='page_251'></a>251</span>
+the loaf same as you like, an&rsquo; cut the bread
+thin, an&rsquo; &rsquo;ere&rsquo;s one o&rsquo; the roses you allers
+wears to breakfast; an&rsquo; wouldn&rsquo;t your erming
+coat be a comfort, ma&rsquo;am?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Dear Little Cummins! How did you know
+I needed comfort? How did you guess I was
+homesick?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Robinette leaned her head against the
+housemaid&rsquo;s rough hand, always stained
+with black spots that would give way to no
+scrubbing. From morning to night she was
+in the coal scuttle or the grate or the saucer
+of black lead, for she did nothing but lay
+fires, light fires, feed fires, and tidy up after
+fires, for eight or nine months of the year.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;You mustn&rsquo;t touch me, ma&rsquo;am; I ain&rsquo;t
+fit; there&rsquo;s smut on me, an&rsquo; hashes, this time
+o&rsquo; day,&rdquo; said Little Cummins.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t care. I like you better with ashes
+than lots of people without. You mustn&rsquo;t
+stay in the coal scuttle all your life, Little
+Cummins; you must be my chambermaid
+some of these days when we can get a good
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_252' name='page_252'></a>252</span>
+substitute for Mrs. de Tracy. Would you
+like that, if the mistress will let you go?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Little Cummins put her apron up to her
+eyes, and from its depths came inarticulate
+bursts of gratitude and joy. Then peeping
+from it just enough to see the way to the
+door, she ran out like a hare and secluded
+herself in the empty linen-room until she
+was sufficiently herself to join the other servants.</p>
+<p>Robinette finished her breakfast and
+dressed. She had lacked courage to meet
+the family party, although she longed for
+a talk with Mark Lavendar. It was entirely
+normal, feminine, and according to all law,
+human and divine, but it appealed also to
+her sense of humour, that she should feel
+that this new man-friend could straighten
+out all the difficulties in the path. She
+waited patiently at her window until she
+saw him walk around the corner of the house,
+under the cedars, and up the twisting path,
+his head bent and bare, his hands in his
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_253' name='page_253'></a>253</span>
+pockets. Then she flung her blue cape over
+her shoulders and followed him.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Mr. Lavendar,&rdquo; she called, as she caught
+up with his slow step, &ldquo;you said you would advise
+me a little. Let us sit on this bench a
+moment and find out how we can untangle
+all the knots into which Aunt de Tracy tied
+us yesterday. I am so afraid of her that I
+am sure I spoke timidly and respectfully to
+her at first; but perhaps I showed more feeling
+at the end than I should. I am willing
+to apologize to her for any lack of courtesy,
+but I don&rsquo;t see how I can retract anything
+I said.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;It is hard for you,&rdquo; Lavendar replied,
+&ldquo;because you have a natural affection for
+your mother&rsquo;s old nurse; and Mrs. de Tracy, I
+begin to believe, is more than indifferent to
+her. She has some active dislike, perhaps,
+the source of which is unknown to us.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;But she is so unjust!&rdquo; cried Robinette.
+&ldquo;I never heard of an Irish landlord in a
+novel who would practice such a piece of eviction.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_254' name='page_254'></a>254</span>
+If I must stand by and see it done,
+then I shall assert my right to provide for
+Nurse and move her into a new dwelling.
+After you left the drawing room last night,
+I begged as tactfully as I could that Aunt de
+Tracy would sell me some of the jewels, so
+that she need not part with the land at Wittisham.
+She was very angry, and wouldn&rsquo;t hear
+of it. Then I proposed buying the plum-tree
+cottage, that it might be kept in the family,
+and she was furious at my audacity. Perhaps
+the Admiral&rsquo;s niece is <i>not</i> in the family.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;She cannot endure anything like patronage,
+or even an assumption of equality,&rdquo; said
+Lavendar. &ldquo;You must be careful there.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Should I be likely to patronize?&rdquo; asked
+Robinette reproachfully.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;No; but your acquaintance with your
+aunt is a very brief one, and she is an extraordinary
+character; hard to understand.
+You may easily stumble on a prejudice of
+hers at every step.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I shouldn&rsquo;t like to understand her any
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_255' name='page_255'></a>255</span>
+better than I do now,&rdquo; and Robinette pushed
+back her hair rebelliously.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Will you be my client for about five
+minutes?&rdquo; asked Lavendar.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, willingly enough, for I see nothing
+before me but to take Nurse Prettyman and
+depart in the first steamer for America.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Mrs. Loring looked as if she were quite
+capable of this rather radical proceeding, and
+very much, too, as if any growing love for
+Lavendar that she might have, would easily
+give way under this new pressure of circumstances.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;This is the situation in a nutshell,&rdquo; said
+Lavendar, filling his pipe. &ldquo;Mrs. de Tracy is
+entirely within her legal rights when she
+asks Mrs. Prettyman to leave the cottage;
+legally right also when she declines to give
+compensation for the plum tree that has been
+a source of income; financially right moreover
+in selling cottage and land at a fancy
+price to find money for needed improvements
+on the estate.&rdquo;</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_256' name='page_256'></a>256</span></div>
+<p>&ldquo;None of this can be denied, I allow.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;All these legal rights could have been
+softened if Mrs. de Tracy had been willing
+to soften them, but unfortunately she has
+been put on the defensive. She did not like
+it when I opposed her in the first place. She
+did not like it when my father advised her to
+make some small settlement, as he did, several
+days ago. She resented Mrs. Prettyman&rsquo;s assumption
+of owning the plum tree; she was
+outraged at your valiant espousing of your
+nurse&rsquo;s cause.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I see; we have simply made her more
+determined in her injustice.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Now it is all very well for you to show
+your mettle,&rdquo; Lavendar went on, &ldquo;for you
+to endure your aunt&rsquo;s displeasure rather
+than give up a cause you know to be just;
+but look where it lands us.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Robinette raised her troubled eyes to
+Lavendar&rsquo;s, giving a sigh to show she realized
+that her landing-place would be wherever
+the lawyer fixed it, not where she wished it.</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_257' name='page_257'></a>257</span></div>
+<p>&ldquo;Go on,&rdquo; she sighed patiently.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Your legal adviser regards it as impossible
+that you should come over from America
+and quarrel with your mother&rsquo;s family;&ndash;&ndash;your
+only family, in point of fact. If this
+affair is fought to a finish you will feel like
+leaving your aunt&rsquo;s house.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I shouldn&rsquo;t have to wait for that feeling,&rdquo;
+said Robinette irrepressibly. &ldquo;Aunt de Tracy
+would have it first!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;In such an event I could and would stand
+by you, naturally.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;<i>Would</i> you?&rdquo; cried Robinette glowing
+instantly like a jewel.</p>
+<p>Lavendar looked at her in amazement.
+&ldquo;Pray what do you take me for? On whose
+side could I, should I be, my dear&ndash;&ndash;my dear
+Mrs. Loring? But to keep to business. In
+the event stated above, neither my father nor
+I could very well continue to have charge of
+the estate. That is a small matter, but increases
+the difficulties, owing to a long friendship
+dating back to the Admiral&rsquo;s time.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_258' name='page_258'></a>258</span>
+Then we have Carnaby. Carnaby, my dear
+Mrs. Loring, belongs to you. Do you want
+to give him up? He adores you and you will
+have an unbounded influence on him, if you
+choose to exercise it.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;How can I influence Carnaby&ndash;&ndash;in America?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>This was a blow, but Lavendar made no
+sign. &ldquo;You may not always be in America,&rdquo;
+he said. &ldquo;Now why not let Mrs. de Tracy
+sell the land and cottage and plum tree in
+the ordinary course of things? Oh, how I
+wish <i>I</i> could buy the blessed thing!&rdquo; he
+exclaimed, parenthetically.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Oh! how I wish <i>I</i> could buy the plum tree,
+and keep it, always blossoming, in my morning-room!&rdquo;
+sighed Robinette.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;But unfortunately, Waller R. A. will buy
+the plum tree, confound him! Now, just
+after Mrs. de Tracy has definitely sold the
+premises and all their appurtenances, suppose
+you, in your prettiest and most docile way
+(docility not being your strong point!) ask
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_259' name='page_259'></a>259</span>
+your aunt if she has any objection to your
+taking care of Mrs. Prettyman during the
+few years remaining to her. Meantime keep
+her from irritating Mrs. de Tracy, and make
+the poor old dear happy with plans for her
+future. If you are short on docility you are
+long on making people happy!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Never did I hear such an argument! It
+would make Macduff fall into the arms of
+Macbeth; it would tranquillize the Kilkenny
+cats themselves! I&rsquo;ll run in and apologize abjectly
+to my thrice guilty aunt, then I&rsquo;ll reward
+myself by going over to Wittisham.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;If you&rsquo;ll take the ferry over, I&rsquo;d like to
+come and fetch you if I may. That shall be
+my reward.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Reward for what?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;For giving you advice very much against
+my personal inclinations. Courses of action
+founded entirely on policy do not appeal to
+me very strongly.&rdquo;</p>
+<hr class='toprule' />
+<div class='chsp'>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_260' name='page_260'></a>260</span>
+<a name='XX_THE_NEW_HOME' id='XX_THE_NEW_HOME'></a>
+<h2>XX</h2>
+<h3>THE NEW HOME</h3>
+</div>
+<p>It was in rather a chastened spirit that
+Robinette set off to see Mrs. Prettyman.
+&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve been foolish, I&rsquo;ve been imprudent;
+oh! dear me! I&rsquo;ve still so much to learn!&rdquo;
+she sighed to herself. &ldquo;No good is ever done
+by losing one&rsquo;s temper; it only puts everything
+wrong. I shall have to try and take
+Mr. Lavendar&rsquo;s advice. I must be very prudent
+with Nurse this morning&ndash;&ndash;never show
+her that I think Aunt de Tracy is in the
+wrong; just persuade her ever so gently to
+move to another home, and arrange with her
+where it is to be.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>It is always difficult for an impetuous nature
+like Robinette&rsquo;s to hold back about anything.
+She would have liked to run straight
+into Mrs. Prettyman&rsquo;s room, and, flinging
+her arms round the old woman&rsquo;s neck, cry
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_261' name='page_261'></a>261</span>
+out to her that everything was settled. And
+instead she must come to the point gently,
+prudently, wisely, &ldquo;like other people&rdquo; as she
+said to herself.</p>
+<p>The cottage seemed very still that afternoon,
+and Robinette knocked twice before
+she heard the piping old voice cry out to her
+to come in.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Why, Nurse dear, where are you? Were
+you asleep?&rdquo; Robinette said as she entered,
+for Mrs. Prettyman was not sitting in the
+fine new chair. Then she found that the voice
+answered from the little bedroom off the
+kitchen, and that the old woman was in
+bed.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I ain&rsquo;t ill, so to speak, dear, just weary
+in me bones,&rdquo; she explained, as Robinette
+sat down beside her. &ldquo;And Mrs. Darke, me
+neighbour, she sez to me, &lsquo;You do take the
+day in bed, Mrs. Prettyman, me dear, an&rsquo; I&rsquo;ll
+do your bit of work for &rsquo;ee&rsquo;&ndash;&ndash;so &rsquo;ere I be,
+Missie, right enough.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m afraid you were worried yesterday,&rdquo;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_262' name='page_262'></a>262</span>
+said Robinette; &ldquo;worried about leaving the
+house.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I were, Missie, I were,&rdquo; she confessed.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s why I came to-day; you must
+stop worrying, for I&rsquo;ve settled all about it.
+I spoke to my aunt last night, and it&rsquo;s true
+that you have to leave this house; but now
+I&rsquo;ve come to make arrangements with you
+about a new one.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>The old woman covered her face with
+her hands and gave a little cry that went
+straight to Robinette&rsquo;s heart.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Lor&rsquo; now, Miss, &rsquo;ow am I ever to leave
+this place where I&rsquo;ve been all these years?
+I thought yesterday as you said &rsquo;twas a mistake
+I&rsquo;d made.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;But alas, it wasn&rsquo;t altogether a mistake,&rdquo;
+Robinette had to confess sadly, her eyes filling
+with tears as she realized how she had
+only doubled her old friend&rsquo;s disappointment.
+Then she sat forward and took Mrs. Prettyman&rsquo;s
+hand in hers.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Nursie dear,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t want you
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_263' name='page_263'></a>263</span>
+to grieve about leaving the old home, for it
+isn&rsquo;t an awfully good one; the new one is
+going to be ever so much better!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s so, I&rsquo;m sure, dearie, only &rsquo;tis
+<i>new</i>,&rdquo; faltered Mrs. Prettyman. &ldquo;If you&rsquo;re
+spared to my age, Missie, you&rsquo;ll find as new
+things scare you.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Ah, but not a new house, Nursie!
+Wait till I describe it! Everything strong and
+firm about it, not shaking in the storms as
+this one does; nice bright windows to let in
+all the sunshine; so no more &lsquo;rheumatics&rsquo;
+and no more tears of pain in your dear old
+eyes!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Robinette&rsquo;s voice failed suddenly, for it
+struck her all in a moment that her glowing
+description of the new home seemed to have
+in it something prophetic. That bent little
+figure beside her, these shaking limbs and
+dim old eyes,&ndash;&ndash;all this house of life, once
+so carefully builded, was crumbling again
+into the dust, and its tenant indeed wanted
+a new one, quite, quite different! A sob
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_264' name='page_264'></a>264</span>
+rose in Robinette&rsquo;s throat, but she swallowed
+it down and went on gaily.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve settled about another thing, too;
+you&rsquo;re to have another plum tree, or life
+wouldn&rsquo;t be the same thing to you. And you
+know they can transplant quite big trees
+now-a-days and make them grow wonderfully.
+Some one was telling me all about how it is
+done only a few days ago. They dig them
+up ever so carefully, and when they put them
+into the new hole, every tiny root is spread
+out and laid in the right direction in the
+ground, and patted and coaxed in, and made
+firm, and they just catch hold on the soil in
+the twinkle of an eye. Isn&rsquo;t it marvellous?
+Well, I&rsquo;ll have a fine new tree planted for
+you so cleverly that perhaps by next year
+you&rsquo;ll be having a few plums, who knows?
+And the next year more plums! And the
+next year, jam!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&rsquo;Twill be beautiful, sure enough,&rdquo; said
+the old woman, kindling at last under the
+description of all these joys. &ldquo;And do you
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_265' name='page_265'></a>265</span>
+think, Missie, as the new cottage will really
+be curing of me rheumatics?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Why yes, Nurse. Whoever heard of
+rheumatism in a dry new house?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;The house be new, but the rheumatics
+be old,&rdquo; said Mrs. Prettyman sagely.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Well, we can&rsquo;t make <i>you</i> entirely new,
+but we&rsquo;ll do our best. I&rsquo;m going to enquire
+about a nice cottage not very far from here;
+there&rsquo;s plenty of time before this one is sold.
+It shall be dry and warm and cosy, and you
+will feel another person in it altogether.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;These new houses be terrible dear, bain&rsquo;t
+they?&rdquo; the old woman said anxiously.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Not a bit; besides that&rsquo;s another matter
+I want to settle with you, Nursie. I&rsquo;m going
+to pay the rent always, and you&rsquo;re going to
+have a nice little girl to help you with the
+work, and there will be something paid to
+you each month, so that you won&rsquo;t have any
+anxiety.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, Missie, Missie, whatever be you
+sayin&rsquo;? <i>Me</i> never to have no anxiety again!&rdquo;</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_266' name='page_266'></a>266</span></div>
+<p>&ldquo;You never shall, if I can help it; old
+people should never have worries; that&rsquo;s
+what young people are here for, to look after
+them and keep them happy.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Mrs. Prettyman lay back on the pillow and
+gazed at Robinette incredulously; it wasn&rsquo;t
+possible that such a solution had come to
+all her troubles. For seventy odd years she
+had worked and struggled and sometimes
+very nearly starved and here was some one
+assuring her that these struggles were over
+forever, that she needn&rsquo;t work hard any
+more, or ever worry again. Could it be
+true? And all to come from Miss Cynthia&rsquo;s
+daughter!</p>
+<p>Robinette bent down and kissed the
+wrinkled old face softly.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Good-night, Nursie dear,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m
+not going to stay any longer with you to-day,
+because you&rsquo;re tired. Have a good sleep,
+and waken up strong and bright.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Good-night, Missie, good-night, dear,&rdquo;
+the old woman said. Her face had taken on
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_267' name='page_267'></a>267</span>
+an expression of such peacefulness as it had
+never worn before.</p>
+<p>She turned over on her pillow and closed
+her eyes, scarcely waiting for Robinette
+to leave the room.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve been allowed to do that, anyway,&rdquo;
+Robinette said to herself, standing in the
+doorway to look back at the quiet sleeper,
+and then looking forward to a little boat
+nearing the shore. The cottage sheltered almost
+the only object that connected her with
+her past; the boat, she felt, held all her future.</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+<p>The river, when Lavendar rowed himself
+across it, was very quiet. &ldquo;The swelling of
+Jordan,&rdquo; as Robinette called the rising tide,
+was over; now the glassy water reflected every
+leaf and twig from the trees that hung above
+its banks and dipped into it here and there.</p>
+<p>Mooring his boat at the landing, Mark
+sauntered up to Mrs. Prettyman&rsquo;s cottage,
+and having tapped lightly at the door to let
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_268' name='page_268'></a>268</span>
+Mrs. Loring know of his arrival, as they had
+agreed he should do, he went along the
+flagged pathway into the garden, and sat
+down on the edge of the low wall that divided
+it from the river. Just in front of him was
+the little worn bench where he had first seen
+Robinette as she sat beside her old nurse
+with the tiny shoe on her lap. It was scarcely
+a fortnight ago; yet it seemed to him that he
+could hardly remember the kind of man he
+had been that afternoon; a new self, full of
+a new purpose, and at that moment of a new
+hope, had taken the place of the objectless
+being he had been before.</p>
+<p>Everything was very still; there was scarcely
+a sound from the village or from the shipping
+farther down the river. Lavendar fancied he
+heard Robinette&rsquo;s clear voice within the cottage;
+then he started suddenly and the blood
+rushed to his heart as he listened to her light
+steps coming along the paved footpath.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Here you are!&rdquo; she whispered. &ldquo;Let us
+not speak too loud, for Nurse was just dropping
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_269' name='page_269'></a>269</span>
+asleep when I left her. I&rsquo;ve put a table-cover
+and a blanket over &lsquo;Mrs. Mackenzie&rsquo; to
+keep her from quacking. Mrs. Prettyman has
+not been very well, poor dear, and is in bed.
+We&rsquo;ve just talked about the lovely new home
+she&rsquo;s going to have, and the transplanted
+plum tree; small, but warranted to bear in a
+year or two and give plums and jam like this
+one. I left her so happy!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>She stopped and looked up. &ldquo;Oh! can any
+new tree be as beautiful as this one? Was
+ever anything in the world more exquisite?
+It has just come to its hour of perfection,
+Mr. Lavendar; it couldn&rsquo;t last,&ndash;&ndash;anything
+so lovely in a passing world.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>She sat down on the low wall, and looked
+up at the tree. It stood and shone there in
+its perfect hour. Another day, and the blossoms,
+too fully blown, would begin to drift
+upon the ground with every little shaking
+wind; now it was at its zenith, a miracle of
+such white beauty that it caused the heart
+to stop and consider. Bees and butterflies
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_270' name='page_270'></a>270</span>
+hummed and flew around it; it cast a delicate
+shadow on the grass, and leaning across the
+wall it was imaged again in the river like a
+bride in her looking-glass.</p>
+<p>Robinette sat gazing at the tree, and
+Lavendar sat gazing at her. At that moment
+he &ldquo;feared his fate too much&rdquo; to break the
+silence by any question that might shatter
+his hope, as the first breeze would break the
+picture that had taken shape in the glassy
+water beneath them.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I feel in a better temper now,&rdquo; said Robinette.
+&ldquo;Who could be angry, and look at that
+beautiful thing? I&rsquo;ve left dear old Nurse
+quite happy again, and I haven&rsquo;t yet offended
+Aunt de Tracy irrevocably, and all because
+you persuaded me not to be unreasonable.
+All the same I could do it again in another
+minute if I let myself go. Doesn&rsquo;t injustice
+ever make people angry in England?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Lavendar laughed. &ldquo;It often makes me
+feel angry, but I&rsquo;ve never found that throwing
+the reins on the horses&rsquo; necks when they
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_271' name='page_271'></a>271</span>
+wanted to bolt, made one go along the right
+road any faster in the end.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I often think,&rdquo; said Robinette, &ldquo;if we
+could see people really angry and disagreeable
+before we&ndash;&ndash;&rdquo; She hesitated and added,
+&ldquo;get to know them well, we should be so
+much more careful.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Mark, bending down his head
+and speaking very deliberately, &ldquo;that&rsquo;s why
+I wish you could have seen me in all my
+worst moments. I&rsquo;d stand the shame of it,
+if you could only know, but, alas, one can&rsquo;t
+show off one&rsquo;s worst moments to order;
+they must be hit upon unexpectedly.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t believe thirty years of life would
+teach one about some people&ndash;&ndash;they are so
+<i>crevicey</i>,&rdquo; said Robinette musingly. She had
+risen and leaned against the plum tree for
+a moment, looking up through the white
+branches.</p>
+<p>Lavendar rose and stood beside her.
+&ldquo;Thirty years&ndash;&ndash;I shall be getting on to
+seventy in thirty years.&rdquo;</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_272' name='page_272'></a>272</span></div>
+<p>A little gust of wind shook the tree;
+some petals came drifting down upon them,
+like white moths, like flakes of summer
+snow, a warning that the brief hour of
+perfection would soon be past ... and
+under it human creatures were talking about
+thirty years!</p>
+<hr class='toprule' />
+<div class='chsp'>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_273' name='page_273'></a>273</span>
+<a name='XXI_CARNABY_CUTS_THE_KNOT' id='XXI_CARNABY_CUTS_THE_KNOT'></a>
+<h2>XXI</h2>
+<h3>CARNABY CUTS THE KNOT</h3>
+</div>
+<p>That afternoon, Carnaby was having
+what he called &ldquo;an absolutely mouldy time,&rdquo;
+and since his leave was running out and his
+remaining afternoons were few, he considered
+himself an injured individual. Robinette
+and Lavendar seemed for ever preoccupied
+either with each other or with some
+subject of discussion, the ins and outs of
+which they had not confided to him.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s partly that blessed plum tree,&rdquo; he
+said to himself; &ldquo;but of course they&rsquo;re
+spooning too. Very likely they&rsquo;re engaged
+by this time. Didn&rsquo;t I tell her she&rsquo;d marry
+again? Well, if she must, it might as well
+be old Lavendar as anyone else. He&rsquo;s a
+decent chap, or he was, before he fell in
+love.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Carnaby sighed. This effort of generosity
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_274' name='page_274'></a>274</span>
+towards his rival made him feel peculiarly
+disconsolate. He had fished and rowed on
+the river all the morning; he had ferreted;
+he had fed Rupert with a private preparation
+of rabbits which infallibly made him
+sick, the desired result being obtained with
+almost provoking celerity. Thus even success
+had palled, and Carnaby&rsquo;s sharp and
+idle wits had begun to work on the problem
+which seemed to be occupying his elders.
+Neither Robinette nor Lavendar could expatiate
+to the boy on his grandmother&rsquo;s peculiarities,
+but Carnaby had contrived to find
+out for himself how the land lay.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Why is Waller R. A. so keen on the
+plum tree?&rdquo; he had enquired.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;He wants to make a quartette of studies,&rdquo;
+answered Lavendar. &ldquo;The Plum Tree in
+spring, summer, autumn, and winter.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;What a rotten idea!&rdquo; said Carnaby
+simply.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Far from rotten, my young friend, I
+can assure you!&rdquo; Lavendar returned. &ldquo;It
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_275' name='page_275'></a>275</span>
+will furnish coloured illustrations for countless
+summer numbers of the <i>Graphic</i> and <i>The
+Lady&rsquo;s Pictorial</i>, and fill Waller R. A.&rsquo;s
+pockets with gold, some of which will shortly
+filter in advance into the Stoke Revel banking
+account, we hope.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m not so sure about that!&rdquo; said Carnaby;
+but he said it to himself, while aloud
+he only asked with much apparent innocence,
+&ldquo;Waller R. A. wouldn&rsquo;t look at
+the cottage or the land without the plum
+tree, I suppose?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Certainly not,&rdquo; Lavendar had answered.
+&ldquo;The plum tree is safeguarded in the
+agreement as I&rsquo;m sure no plum tree ever
+was before. Waller R. A.&rsquo;s no fool!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Digesting this information and much else
+that he had gleaned, Carnaby now climbed
+to the top of a tree where he had a favourite
+perch, and did some serious and simple
+thinking.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s a beastly shame,&rdquo; he said to himself,
+&ldquo;to turn that old woman out of her
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_276' name='page_276'></a>276</span>
+cottage. Cousin Robin thinks it&rsquo;s a beastly
+shame, and what&rsquo;s more, Mark does, and
+he&rsquo;s a man, and a lawyer into the bargain.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Carnaby thought remorsefully of a pot of
+jam which old Mrs. Prettyman had given
+him once to take back to college. What
+good jam it had been, and how large the
+pot! He had never given her anything&ndash;&ndash;he
+had never a penny to bless himself with;
+and now his grandmother was taking away
+from the poor old creature all that she had.
+&ldquo;It&rsquo;s regular covetousness,&rdquo; he thought,
+&ldquo;and that infernal plum tree&rsquo;s at the bottom
+of it all. Naboth&rsquo;s vineyard is a joke in comparison,
+and What&rsquo;s-his-name and the one
+ewe lamb simply aren&rsquo;t in it.&rdquo; He grew hot
+with mortification. Then he reflected, &ldquo;If
+the plum tree weren&rsquo;t there, Waller R. A.
+wouldn&rsquo;t want the cottage, and old Mrs.
+Prettyman could live in it till the end of the
+chapter.&rdquo; A slow grin dawned upon his face,
+its most mischievous expression, the one
+which Rupert with canine sagacity had learned
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_277' name='page_277'></a>277</span>
+to dread. He felt and pinched the muscle
+of his arm fondly. (<i>Mussle</i> he always spelled
+the word himself, upon phonetic principles.)</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I may be a fool and a minor&rdquo; (generally
+spelt <i>miner</i> by him), he said, as he climbed
+down from his perch, &ldquo;but at least I can
+cut down a tree!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>He became lost to view forthwith in the
+workshops and tool-sheds attached to the
+home premises of Stoke Revel, and presently
+emerged, furnished with the object he had
+made diligent and particular search for;
+this he proceeded to carry in an inconspicuous
+way to a distant cottage where he
+knew there was a grindstone. He spent a
+happy hour with the object, the grindstone,
+and a pail of water. <i>Whirr</i>, <i>whirr</i>, <i>whirr</i>,
+sang the grindstone, now softly, now loudly&ndash;&ndash;&ldquo;<i>this
+is an axe, an axe, an axe, and a
+strong arm that holds it</i>!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;You be goin&rsquo; to do a bit of forestry on
+your own, Master Carnaby, eh?&rdquo; suggested
+the grinning owner of the grindstone.</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_278' name='page_278'></a>278</span></div>
+<p>&ldquo;I am; a very particular bit, Jones!&rdquo;
+replied the young master, lovingly feeling
+the edge of the tool, which was now nearly
+as fine as that of a razor.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;You be careful, sir, as you don&rsquo;t chop
+off one of your own toes with that there
+axe,&rdquo; said the man. &ldquo;It be full heavy for
+one o&rsquo; your age. But there! you zailor-men
+be that handy! &rsquo;Tis your trade, so to
+speak!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Quite right, Jones, it is!&rdquo; replied Carnaby.
+&ldquo;Good-afternoon and thank you for
+the use of the grindstone.&rdquo; He was already
+planning where he would hide the axe, for
+he had precise ideas about everything and
+left nothing to chance.</p>
+<p>Carnaby went to bed that night at his
+usual hour. His profession had already accustomed
+him to awaking at odd intervals,
+and he had more than the ordinary boy&rsquo;s
+knowledge of moon and tide, night and dawn.
+When he slipped out of bed after a few
+hours of sound sleep, he put on a flannel
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_279' name='page_279'></a>279</span>
+shirt and trousers and a broad belt, and then,
+carrying his boots in his hand, crept out of
+his room and through the sleeping house.
+He would much rather have climbed out of
+the window, in a manner more worthy of such
+an adventure, but his return in that fashion
+might offer dangers in daylight. So he was
+content with an unfrequented garden door
+which he could leave on the latch.</p>
+<p>The moon, which had been young when
+she lighted the lovers in the mud-bank adventure,
+was now a more experienced orb and
+shed a useful light. Carnaby intended to
+cross the river in a small tub which was propelled
+by a single oar worked at the stern,
+the rower standing. This craft was intended
+for pottering about the shore; to cross the
+river in it was the dangerous feat of a skilled
+waterman, but Carnaby had a knack of his
+own with every floating thing. As he balanced
+himself in the rocking tub, bare-headed,
+bare-necked, bare-armed, paddling with the
+grace and ease of strength and training, he
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_280' name='page_280'></a>280</span>
+looked a man, but a man young with the
+youth of the gods. The moon shone in his
+keen grey eyes and made them sparkle. A
+cold sea-wind blew up the river, but he did
+not feel its chill, for blood hot with adventure
+raced in his veins.</p>
+<p>Wittisham was in profound darkness when
+he landed, and the moon having gone behind
+a bank of cloud, he had to grope his way to
+Mrs. Prettyman&rsquo;s cottage, shouldering the
+axe. The isolated position of the house alone
+made the adventure possible, he reflected;
+he could not have cut down a tree in the
+hearing of neighbours, and as to old Elizabeth
+herself, he hoped she was deaf. Most
+old women were, he reflected, except unfortunately
+his grandmother!</p>
+<p>Soon he was entering the little garden and
+sniffing the scent of blossom, which was very
+strong in the night air. He could see the
+dim outline of the plum tree, and just as he
+wanted light, the moon came out and shone
+upon its whiteness, giving a sort of spiritual
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_281' name='page_281'></a>281</span>
+beauty to the flowering thing that was very
+exquisite.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;What price, Waller R. A. now?&rdquo; thought
+Carnaby impishly. &ldquo;The plum tree in moonlight!
+eh? Wouldn&rsquo;t he give his eyes to see
+it! But he won&rsquo;t! Not if I know it!&rdquo; The
+boy was as blind to the tree&rsquo;s beauty as his
+grandmother had been, but he had scientific
+ideas how to cut it down, for he had
+watched the felling of many a tree.</p>
+<p>First, standing on a lower branch, you
+lopped off all the side shoots as high as you
+could reach. This made the trunk easy to deal
+with, and its fall less heavy, and Carnaby set
+to work.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;She goes through them all as slick as
+butter!&rdquo; he said to himself in high satisfaction.
+The axe had assumed a personality to
+him and was &ldquo;she,&rdquo; not &ldquo;it.&rdquo; &ldquo;She makes
+no more noise than a pair of scissors cutting
+flowers; not half so much!&rdquo; he said proudly.
+Branch after branch fell down and lay about
+the tree like the discarded garments of a bathing
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_282' name='page_282'></a>282</span>
+nymph. The petals fell upon Carnaby&rsquo;s
+face, upon his hair and shoulders; he was
+a white figure as he toiled. Frightened birds
+and bats flew about, but he did not notice
+them. His only care was the cottage itself
+and its inmate. If <i>she</i> should awake! But
+the little habitation, shrouded in thatch and
+deep in shadow, was dark and silent as the
+grave.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;She must be sound asleep and deaf,&rdquo;
+thought the boy. &ldquo;Yes, very deaf.&rdquo; He
+paused. The first stage in his task was accomplished.
+Shivering and naked, one absurd
+tuft of blossom and leaves at the tip&ndash;&ndash;the
+murdered tree now stood in the moonlight,
+imploring the <i>coup de gr&acirc;ce</i> which
+should end its shame.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Jolly well done,&rdquo; said the murderer complacently.
+He stretched his arms, looked at
+the palms of his hands to see if they had
+blistered, and addressed himself to the second
+part of his business. Thud! thud! went the
+axe on the trunk of the tree, and the sweat
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_283' name='page_283'></a>283</span>
+broke out all over Carnaby&rsquo;s skin, not with
+exertion but with nervous terror.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;If that doesn&rsquo;t wake the dead!&rdquo; he
+thought&ndash;&ndash;but there was no awaking in the
+cottage. Its tiny window blinked in the moonlight,
+and Carnaby thought he heard the
+drowsy quack of a duck in an out-house. But
+the danger passed. Thud! went the axe again.
+The slim severed shaft of the tree was poised
+a moment, motionless, erect before it fell.
+Then it subsided gently among its broken
+and trodden boughs, and Carnaby&rsquo;s task was
+done.</p>
+<hr class='toprule' />
+<div class='chsp'>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_284' name='page_284'></a>284</span>
+<a name='XXII_CONSEQUENCES' id='XXII_CONSEQUENCES'></a>
+<h2>XXII</h2>
+<h3>CONSEQUENCES</h3>
+</div>
+<p>Early that morning before the sun had
+risen, when the light was still grey in the
+coming dawn, Robinette was awakened by a
+bird that called out from a tree close to her
+open window, every note like the striking
+of a golden bell. She jumped up and looked
+out, but the little singer, silenced, had flown
+away. Instead, she caught sight of a figure
+stealing across the lawn towards the side door
+which opened from the library. Even in the
+dim light she could distinguish that it was
+Carnaby, Carnaby with something in his
+hand. What he carried she could not quite
+make out, but the sleeves of his flannel shirt
+were rolled up above his elbows in a fatally
+business-like way, and he walked with an air
+of stealth.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;What mischief can that boy have been
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_285' name='page_285'></a>285</span>
+up to at this time of day?&rdquo; thought Robinette
+as she lay down again, but she was too
+sleepy to wonder long.</p>
+<p>She forgot all about it until she saw Carnaby
+at the breakfast table some hours later.
+Sometimes the gloom of that meal&ndash;&ndash;never
+a favorite or convivial one in the English
+household, and most certainly neither at
+Stoke Revel&ndash;&ndash;would be enlivened by some
+of the boy&rsquo;s pranks. He would pass over to
+the sideboard, pepper-pot slyly in hand, and
+Rupert, whose meal at this hour consisted of
+grape-nuts and cream, would unaccountably
+sneeze and snuffle over his plate.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Bless it, Bobs!&rdquo; his tormentor would
+exclaim tenderly. &ldquo;Is it catching cold? Poor
+old Kitchener! Hi! <i>Kitch!</i> <i>Kitch!</i>&rdquo; (like a
+violent sneeze) and the outraged Rupert
+would forget grape-nuts and pepper alike
+in a fit of impotent fury. But this morning
+the dog fed in peace and Carnaby never
+glanced at him or his basin. Robinette, looking
+at the boy and remembering where she
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_286' name='page_286'></a>286</span>
+had seen him last, noticed that he was rather
+silent, that his cheeks were redder than common,
+and that under his eyes were lines of
+fatigue not usually there.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;What were you doing on the lawn at
+four o&rsquo;clock this morning?&rdquo; she began, but
+checked herself, suddenly thinking that if
+Carnaby had been up to mischief she must
+not allude to it before his grandmother.</p>
+<p>No one had heard her. The meal dragged
+on. Robinette and Lavendar talked little.
+Miss Smeardon was preoccupied with the
+sufferings and the moods of Rupert. Mrs.
+de Tracy alone seemed in better spirits than
+usual; she was talkative and even balmy.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;The work at the spinney begins to-day,&rdquo;
+she observed complacently, addressing herself
+to Lavendar and alluding to the rooting
+up of an old copse and the planting of a
+new one&ndash;&ndash;an improvement she had long
+planned, though hitherto in vain. &ldquo;The
+young trees have arrived.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;But where is the money to come from?&rdquo;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_287' name='page_287'></a>287</span>
+enquired Carnaby suddenly, in a sepulchral
+tone. (His voice was at the disagreeable
+breaking stage, an agony and a shame to
+himself and always a surprise to others.) His
+grandmother stared: the others, too, looked
+in astonishment at the boy&rsquo;s red face.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I thought it had all been explained to
+you, Carnaby,&rdquo; said Mrs. de Tracy, &ldquo;but
+you take so little interest in the estate that
+I suppose what you have been told went in
+at one ear and out at the other, as usual! It
+is the sale of land at Wittisham which makes
+these improvements possible, advantages
+drawn from a painful necessity,&rdquo; and the iron
+woman almost sighed.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;There won&rsquo;t be any sale of land at Wittisham,&ndash;&ndash;at
+least, not of Mrs. Prettyman&rsquo;s
+cottage,&rdquo; said Carnaby abruptly.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;It is practically settled. The transfers
+only remain to be signed; you know that,
+Carnaby,&rdquo; said Lavendar curtly. He did not
+wish the vexed question to be raised again
+at a meal.</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_288' name='page_288'></a>288</span></div>
+<p>&ldquo;It <i>was</i> practically settled&ndash;&ndash;but it&rsquo;s all
+off now,&rdquo; said the boy, looking hard at his
+grandmother. &ldquo;Waller R. A. won&rsquo;t want the
+place any more. The bloomin&rsquo; plum tree&rsquo;s
+gone&ndash;&ndash;cut down. The bargain&rsquo;s off, and
+old Mrs. Prettyman can stay on in her cottage
+as long as she likes!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>There was a freezing silence, broken only
+by the stertorous breathing of Rupert on Miss
+Smeardon&rsquo;s lap.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Repeat, please, what you have just said,
+Carnaby,&rdquo; said his grandmother with dangerous
+calmness, &ldquo;and speak distinctly.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I said that the cottage at Wittisham won&rsquo;t
+be sold because the plum tree&rsquo;s gone,&rdquo; repeated
+Carnaby doggedly. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s been cut
+down.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;How do you know?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve seen it.&rdquo; Carnaby raised his eyes.
+&ldquo;I cut it down myself,&rdquo; he added, &ldquo;this morning
+before daylight.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Who put such a thing into your head?&rdquo;
+Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s words were ice: her glance
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_289' name='page_289'></a>289</span>
+of suspicion at Robinette, like the cold thrust
+of steel. &ldquo;Who told you to cut the plum
+tree down?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;My conscience!&rdquo; was Carnaby&rsquo;s unexpected
+reply. He was as red as fire, but his
+glance did not falter. Mrs. de Tracy rose.
+Not a muscle of her face had moved.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Whatever your action has been, Carnaby,&rdquo;
+she said with dignity&ndash;&ndash;&ldquo;whether foolish and
+disgraceful, or criminal and dangerous, it
+cannot be discussed here. You will follow me
+at once to the library, and presently I may
+send for Mark. A lawyer&rsquo;s advice will probably
+be necessary,&rdquo; she added grimly.</p>
+<p>Carnaby said not a word. He opened the
+door for his grandmother and followed her
+out; but as he passed Robinette, he looked at
+her earnestly, half expecting her applause;
+for one of the motives in his boyish mind
+had certainly been to please her&ndash;&ndash;to shine
+in her eyes as the doer of bold deeds and to
+avenge her nurse&rsquo;s wrongs. And all that he
+had managed was to make her cry!</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_290' name='page_290'></a>290</span></div>
+<p>For Robinette had put her elbows on the
+table and had covered her eyes with her
+hands. As he left the room, Carnaby could
+hear her exclamation:&ndash;&ndash;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;To cut down that tree! That beautiful,
+beautiful, fruitful thing! O! how could anyone
+do it?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>So this was justice; this was all he got
+for his pains! How unaccountable women
+were!</p>
+<p>Lavendar awaited some time his summons to
+join Mrs. de Tracy and her grandson in what
+seemed to him must be a portentous interview
+enough, trying meanwhile somewhat unsuccessfully
+to console Mrs. Loring for the destruction
+of the plum tree, and exchanging
+with her somewhat awe-struck comments on
+the scene they had both just witnessed. No
+summons came, however; but half an hour
+later, he came across Carnaby alone, and
+an interview promptly ensued. He wanted to
+plumb the depth of the boy-mind and to learn
+exactly what motives had prompted Carnaby
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_291' name='page_291'></a>291</span>
+to this sudden and startling action in the
+matter of the plum tree.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Had you a bad quarter of an hour with
+your grandmother?&rdquo; was his first question.
+Carnaby, he thought, looked subdued, and
+not much wonder.</p>
+<p>The boy hesitated.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Not so bad as I expected,&rdquo; was his answer.
+&ldquo;The old lady was wonderfully decent, for
+her. She gave me a talking to, of course.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I should hope so!&rdquo; interpolated Lavendar
+drily.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;She jawed away about our poverty,&rdquo; continued
+Carnaby. &ldquo;She&rsquo;s got that on the brain,
+as you know. She said that this loss of the
+money&ndash;&ndash;Waller R. A.&rsquo;s money, she means,
+of course&ndash;&ndash;is an awful blow. She <i>said</i> it
+was, but it seemed to me&ndash;&ndash;&rdquo; Carnaby paused,
+looking extremely puzzled.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;It seemed to you&ndash;&ndash;?&rdquo; prompted Lavendar
+encouragingly.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;That she wasn&rsquo;t so awfully cut up, after
+all,&rdquo; said Carnaby. &ldquo;She seemed putting it
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_292' name='page_292'></a>292</span>
+on, if you know what I mean.&rdquo; Lavendar
+pricked up his ears. Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s intense
+reluctance to sell the land recurred to him
+in a flash. To get her consent had been like
+drawing a tooth, like taking her life-blood
+drop by drop. Could it be that she was not
+very sorry after all that the scheme had
+fallen through, secretly glad, indeed? It was
+conceivable that this was Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s
+view, but her grandson&rsquo;s motive was still
+obscure.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Why did you do it, Carnaby?&rdquo; Lavendar
+asked with kindness and gravity both in
+his voice. &ldquo;You have committed a very
+mischievous action, you know, one that would
+have borne a harsher name had the transfers
+been signed and had the plum tree changed
+hands.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;But then I shouldn&rsquo;t have done it&ndash;&ndash;you&ndash;&ndash;you
+juggins, Mark!&rdquo; cried the boy.
+&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve no earthly grudge against Waller R. A.
+If he&rsquo;d actually bought the tree, it would
+have been too late, and his beastly money&ndash;&ndash;&rdquo;</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_293' name='page_293'></a>293</span></div>
+<p>&ldquo;You need the money, you know,&rdquo; remarked
+Lavendar. &ldquo;Remember that, my
+young friend!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;It would have been dirty money!&rdquo; said
+Carnaby, with a sudden flash that lit up his
+rather heavy face with a new expression.
+&ldquo;You and Cousin Robin have been jolly
+polite when you thought I was listening, but
+<i>I</i> know what you really thought, and the
+kind of things you were saying to one another
+about this business! You thought it
+beastly mean to take the cottage away from
+old Lizzie in the way it was being done, and
+sheer robbery to deprive her of the plum
+tree without paying her for it. I quite agreed
+with you there, and if I felt like that, do you
+think I could sit still and let the money come
+in to Stoke Revel&ndash;&ndash;money that had been
+got in such a way? What do you take me
+for?&rdquo; Lavendar was silent, looking at the
+boy in surprise. &ldquo;Oh,&rdquo; continued Carnaby,
+&ldquo;how I wish I were of age! Then I could
+show Cousin Robin, perhaps, what an English
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_294' name='page_294'></a>294</span>
+landlord can be! I mean that he can be
+a friend to his tenants, and kind and generous
+as well as just. As it is, Cousin Robin
+will go back to America and tell her friends
+what selfish brutes we are over here, and
+how jolly glad she was to get away!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Mrs. Loring will carry no tales, I am
+sure,&rdquo; said Lavendar. &ldquo;But tell me, my dear
+fellow, did you imagine that Mrs. Prettyman
+would be a gainer by your action?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Well, why not?&rdquo; answered the boy.
+&ldquo;Didn&rsquo;t you tell me yourself that Waller
+R. A. wouldn&rsquo;t look at the cottage without
+the tree? What&rsquo;s to prevent the old woman
+living on where she is? Do you think there&rsquo;ll
+be a rush of new tenants for that precious
+old hovel? Go on! You know better than
+that!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;But the tree, Carnaby, the plum tree!&rdquo;
+cried Lavendar. &ldquo;My young Goth, hadn&rsquo;t
+you a moment&rsquo;s compunction? That beautiful,
+flowering thing, as your cousin called it;
+could you destroy it without a pang?&rdquo;</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_295' name='page_295'></a>295</span></div>
+<p>&ldquo;The <i>tree</i>?&rdquo; echoed Carnaby with unmeasured
+scorn. &ldquo;What&rsquo;s a tree? It&rsquo;s just
+a tree, isn&rsquo;t it?&rdquo;</p>
+<table summary=''><tr><td>
+<p class='cg'>&ldquo;A primrose by a river&rsquo;s brim<br />
+A yellow primrose was to him,<br />
+And it was nothing more!&rdquo;</p>
+</td></tr></table>
+<p>quoted Mark, despairingly.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Well; and what more did he expect of a
+primrose, whoever the Johnny was?&rdquo; asked
+the contemptuous Carnaby.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;At any rate,&rdquo; commented Lavendar, &ldquo;it
+isn&rsquo;t necessary to search as far as Peter Bell
+for an analogy for your character, my young
+friend! You are your grandmother&rsquo;s grandson
+after all!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;In some ways I suppose I can&rsquo;t help being,&rdquo;
+answered Carnaby soberly, &ldquo;but not
+in all,&rdquo; he added, and suddenly turning red
+he fumbled in his pocket and produced a coin
+which he held out to Lavendar. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s only
+ten bob,&rdquo; he said apologetically, &ldquo;and I wish
+it was a jolly sight more! But please give
+it to old Mrs. Prettyman to make up a bit
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_296' name='page_296'></a>296</span>
+for the loss of her plums. Daresay I&rsquo;ll manage
+some more by and by. Anyway, I&rsquo;ll
+make it up to her when I come of age.&ndash;&ndash;I&rsquo;m
+nearly sixteen already, you know. Be
+sure you tell her that!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>But Lavendar refused to take the money.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Mrs. Prettyman is provided for, my boy,&rdquo;
+he said. &ldquo;She has become your cousin&rsquo;s
+especial care. You need have no fear about
+that. The poor old woman is very happy and
+will have a cottage more suited for her rheumatism
+and her general feebleness than the
+present one. But I think your cousin will
+understand your motives and believe that
+you meant well by old Lizzie in your little
+piece of midnight madness.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Though I was a bit rough on the plum
+tree!&rdquo; said Carnaby, with a broad smile.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;You think it&rsquo;s a laughing matter?&rdquo;
+Lavendar asked indignantly. &ldquo;I wish you
+had my father to deal with, and Waller R. A.!
+It&rsquo;s all very well for you.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>But Carnaby only laughed. The blood was
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_297' name='page_297'></a>297</span>
+still hot in his veins, and the joy of his
+night&rsquo;s adventure. Mark told him that he
+and Mrs. Loring were crossing the river at
+once to see for themselves the extent of his
+mischief and what effect it had had upon
+old Mrs. Prettyman. Carnaby observed with
+diabolical meaning that as he had not been
+invited to join the party, he would make
+himself scarce. Gooseberries, he said, were
+very good fruit, but he wasn&rsquo;t fond of them;
+so he lounged off with his hands in his
+pockets. Suddenly he turned. &ldquo;See here, old
+Mark! You&rsquo;ll speak a word for me with
+Cousin Robin, won&rsquo;t you? It&rsquo;s hard on me
+to have her hate me when I was trying to do
+my best to please her.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;She won&rsquo;t hate you; she couldn&rsquo;t hate
+anybody,&rdquo; said Lavendar absently, watching
+first the door and then the window.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;You say that because you&rsquo;re in love with
+her! I&rsquo;ve a couple of eyes in my head,
+stupid as you all think me. You can deny it
+all you like, but you won&rsquo;t convince me!&rdquo;</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_298' name='page_298'></a>298</span></div>
+<p>&ldquo;I shan&rsquo;t deny it, Carnaby. I am so much
+in love with her at this moment that the
+room is whirling round and round and I can
+see two of you!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Poor old Mark! Do you think she&rsquo;ll
+take you on?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Can&rsquo;t say, Carnaby!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;You&rsquo;re a lucky beggar if she does; that&rsquo;s
+my opinion!&rdquo; said the boy.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Put it as strong as you like, Carnaby,&rdquo;
+Lavendar answered. &ldquo;You can&rsquo;t exaggerate
+my feelings on that subject!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;If you hadn&rsquo;t fifteen years&rsquo; start of me
+I&rsquo;d give you a run for your money!&rdquo; exclaimed
+Carnaby with a daring look.</p>
+<hr class='toprule' />
+<div class='chsp'>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_299' name='page_299'></a>299</span>
+<a name='XXIII_DEATH_AND_LIFE' id='XXIII_DEATH_AND_LIFE'></a>
+<h2>XXIII</h2>
+<h3>DEATH AND LIFE</h3>
+</div>
+<p>While these incidents were taking place
+at the Manor House, village life at Wittisham
+had been stirring for hours. Thin blue
+threads of smoke were rising from the other
+cottages into the windless air: only from
+Nurse Prettyman&rsquo;s there was none. Duckie
+in the out-house quacked and gabbled as she
+had quacked and gabbled since the light
+began, yet no one came to let her out and
+feed her. The halfpenny jug of milk had been
+placed on the doorstep long ago, but Mrs.
+Prettyman had not yet opened the door to
+take it in.</p>
+<p>Outside in the garden, where the plum tree
+stood yesterday, there was now only a stump,
+hacked and denuded, and round about it a
+ruin of broken branches, leaves, and scattered
+blossoms. Over the wreck the bees were busy
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_300' name='page_300'></a>300</span>
+still, taking what they could of the honey
+that remained; and in the air was the strong
+odour of juicy green wood and torn bark.</p>
+<p>The children who brought the milk were
+the first to discover what had happened, and
+very soon the news spread amongst the other
+cottagers. Then came two neighbours to the
+scene, wondering and exclaiming. They went
+to the door, but Mrs. Prettyman did not answer
+their knock or their calling. Mrs. Darke
+looked in through the tiny window.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;She be sleepin&rsquo; that peaceful in &rsquo;er bed
+in there,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;it &rsquo;ud be a shame to
+wake &rsquo;er. She&rsquo;s deaf now, and belike she
+never &rsquo;eard the tree come down, &rsquo;ooever&rsquo;s
+done it. But I&rsquo;ll go and see after Duckie:
+she&rsquo;s makin&rsquo; noise enough to rouse &rsquo;er, anyway.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Then Duckie was released and fed and departed
+to gabble her wrongs to the other
+white ducks that were preening themselves
+amongst the deep green grass of the adjacent
+orchard.</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_301' name='page_301'></a>301</span></div>
+<p>&ldquo;You can &rsquo;ear that bird a mile away&ndash;&ndash;she&rsquo;s
+never done talking!&rdquo; said Mrs. Darke
+as the indignant gabble grew fainter in the
+distance. &ldquo;But &rsquo;ere&rsquo;s my old man a-come to
+look at the plum tree. Wonder what he&rsquo;ll
+say to it? This be a queer job, sure enough!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Old Darke, on two sticks, hobbled towards
+the scene of desolation with grunts of mingled
+satisfaction and dismay. &rsquo;Twas a rare sensation,
+though a pity, to be sure!</p>
+<p>Mrs. Darke stood by the well at the turn
+of the road, keeping a sharp eye on the cottage
+while she gossiped with the neighbour
+who was filling her pitcher. She did not want
+to miss the sight of Mrs. Prettyman&rsquo;s face
+when she opened her door and found out
+what had happened.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;She be sleepin&rsquo; too long; I&rsquo;ll go and
+waken her in a minute,&rdquo; said Mrs. Darke.
+&ldquo;&rsquo;Tis but right she should be told what&rsquo;s
+come to &rsquo;er tree, poor thing.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Then a beggar woman selling bootlaces
+came along the shore of the river; she
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_302' name='page_302'></a>302</span>
+mounted the cottage steps and the gossips
+watched her trailing up the pathway in her
+loose old shoes, and knocking at the door.
+She waited for a few minutes: there was no
+answer, so she turned away resignedly and
+trailed off along the sun-lit lane, in-shore,
+leaving the garden gate swinging to and
+fro.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;There&rsquo;s summat the matter!&rdquo; Mrs. Darke
+had just whispered with evident enjoyment,
+when some one else was seen approaching
+the cottage from the direction of the pier.
+It was the young lady from the Manor, this
+time. She wore a white dress and a green
+scarf, and her face was tinted with colour.
+She looked like a young blossoming tree herself,
+all lacy white and pale green, a strange
+morning vision in a work-a-day world! Robinette
+ran quickly up the pathway and knocked
+at the door, but there was no answer to her
+knock. She called out in her clear voice:&ndash;&ndash;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Good morning, Nurse! Good morning!
+Aren&rsquo;t you ready to let me in? It&rsquo;s quite
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_303' name='page_303'></a>303</span>
+late!&rdquo; But there was no answer to her
+call. She was just trying to open the door,
+which seemed to be locked, when a gentleman
+came up from the boat and followed her to
+the cottage. That, the women who were watching
+her thought quite natural, for surely such
+a young lady would be followed by a lover
+wherever she went! Indeed, Mrs. Darke said
+so.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&rsquo;Tis in that there kind,&rdquo; she observed
+philosophically, &ldquo;like the cuckoo and the
+bird that follows; never sees one wi&rsquo;out the
+other!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&rsquo;Tis quite that way, Mrs. Darke,&rdquo; agreed
+the neighbour, approvingly.</p>
+<p>Robinette turned a white face to Lavendar
+as he approached.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Nurse won&rsquo;t answer, and I can&rsquo;t get in!&rdquo;
+she cried. &ldquo;Something must have happened.
+I&ndash;&ndash;I&rsquo;m afraid to go in alone. The door is
+locked, too.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s not locked,&rdquo; said Lavendar, and exerting
+a little strength, he pushed it open and
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_304' name='page_304'></a>304</span>
+gave a quick glance inside. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll go in first,&rdquo;
+he said gently. &ldquo;Wait here.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>He came again to the threshold in a few
+minutes, a peculiar expression on his face
+which somehow seemed to tell Robinette
+what had happened.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Come in, Mrs. Robin,&rdquo; he said very
+gravely and gently. &ldquo;You need not be afraid.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Robinette instinctively held out her hand
+to him and they entered the little room together.</p>
+<p>She need not have feared for the old woman&rsquo;s
+distress over the ruined plum tree, for
+nothing would ever grieve Nurse Prettyman
+again. Just as she had lain down the
+night before, she lay upon her bed now, having
+passed away in her sleep. &ldquo;And they that
+encounter Death in sleep,&rdquo; says the old writer,
+&ldquo;go forth to meet him with desire.&rdquo; The
+aged face was turned slightly upwards and
+wore a look of contentment and repose that
+made life seem almost gaudy; a cheap thing
+to compare with this attainment....</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_305' name='page_305'></a>305</span></div>
+<p>Robinette came out of the cottage a little
+later, leaving the neighbours who had gathered
+in the room to their familiar and not
+uncongenial duties. She went into the garden,
+where Mark Lavendar awaited her. He
+longed to try to comfort her; indeed, his
+whole heart ran out to her in a warmth and
+passion that astounded him; but her pale
+face, stained with weeping, warned him to
+keep silence yet a little while.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I just came for one branch of the blossom,&rdquo;
+Robinette said, &ldquo;if it is not all withered.
+Yes, this is quite fresh still.&rdquo; She
+took a little spray he had found for her and
+stood holding it as she spoke. &ldquo;Only yesterday
+it was all so lovely! Oh! Mr. Lavendar,
+I needn&rsquo;t cry for my old Nurse, I&rsquo;m
+sure! How should I, after seeing her face?
+She had come to the end of her long life,
+and she was very tired, and now all that
+is forgotten, and she will never have a moment
+of vexation about her tree. I don&rsquo;t
+know why I should cry for her; but oh,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_306' name='page_306'></a>306</span>
+how could Carnaby destroy that beautiful
+thing!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;It was a genuine though mistaken act
+of conscience! You must not be too hard
+on Carnaby!&rdquo; pleaded Lavendar. &ldquo;He would
+not touch the money that was to come from
+the sale of Mrs. Prettyman&rsquo;s cottage under
+the circumstances, so it seemed best to him
+that the sale should not take place, and he
+prevented it in the directest and simplest way
+that occurred to him. It&rsquo;s like some of the
+things that men have done to please God,
+Mrs. Robin,&rdquo; Mark added, smiling, &ldquo;and
+thought they were doing it, too! But Carnaby
+only wanted to please you!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;To <i>please</i> me!&rdquo; exclaimed Robinette,
+looking round her at the ruin before them.
+&ldquo;Oh dear!&rdquo; she sighed, &ldquo;how confusing the
+world is, at times! I am just going to take
+this snowy branch and lay it on Nurse&rsquo;s pillow.
+She so loved her tree! See; it&rsquo;s quite
+fresh and beautiful, and the dew still upon it,
+just like tears!&rdquo;</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_307' name='page_307'></a>307</span></div>
+<p>&ldquo;That seemed just right,&rdquo; said Robinette
+softly as she came out into the sunshine again,
+a few minutes later. &ldquo;I laid the blossoms in
+her kind old tired hands, the hands that have
+known so much work and so many pains. It
+is over, and after all, her new home is better
+than any I could have found for her!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>The two walked slowly down the little
+garden on their way to the gate. As they
+passed, old Mr. Darke, who had hobbled
+around again to have another look at the
+fallen tree, addressed Lavendar solemnly.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Best tree in Wittisham &rsquo;e was, sir,&rdquo;
+touching the ruin of the branches as he
+spoke. &ldquo;&rsquo;Ooever could ha&rsquo; thought o&rsquo; sich a
+piece of wickedness as to cut &rsquo;im down?
+Murder, I calls it! &rsquo;Tis well as Mrs. Prettyman
+be gone to &rsquo;er rest wi&rsquo;out knowledge of
+it; &rsquo;twould &rsquo;ave broken her old &rsquo;eart, for
+certain sure!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;It nearly breaks mine to see it now, Mr.
+Darke!&rdquo; said Robinette in a trembling voice.
+But the old labourer bent down, moving
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_308' name='page_308'></a>308</span>
+his creaking joints with difficulty and
+steadying himself upon his sticks till he
+could touch the stump of the tree with his
+rough but skilful hands. He pushed away
+the long grass that grew about the roots and
+looked up at Robinette with a wise old smile.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&rsquo;Tisn&rsquo;t dead and done for yet, Missy,
+never fear!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Give &rsquo;im time; give
+&rsquo;im time! &rsquo;E&rsquo;s cut above the graft&ndash;&ndash;see!
+&rsquo;E&rsquo;ll grow and shoot and bear blossom and
+fruit same as ever &rsquo;e did, given time. See to
+the fine stock of &rsquo;im; firm as a rock in the
+good ground! And the roots, they be sound
+and fresh. &rsquo;E&rsquo;ll grow again, Missy; never
+you cry!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Robinette looked so beautiful as she lifted
+her luminous eyes and parted lips to old
+Darke, and then turned to him with a
+gesture of hope and joy, that again Lavendar
+could hardly keep from avowing his love;
+but the remembrance of the old nurse&rsquo;s still
+shape in the little cottage hushed the words
+that trembled on his lips.</p>
+<hr class='toprule' />
+<div class='chsp'>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_309' name='page_309'></a>309</span>
+<a name='XXIV_GRANDMOTHER_AND_GRANDSON' id='XXIV_GRANDMOTHER_AND_GRANDSON'></a>
+<h2>XXIV</h2>
+<h3>GRANDMOTHER AND GRANDSON</h3>
+</div>
+<p>The disagreeable duty of announcing Mrs.
+Prettyman&rsquo;s death to the lady of the Manor
+now lay before Lavendar and his companion,
+and the thought of it weighed upon their
+spirits as they crossed the river. Carnaby
+also must be told. How would he take it?
+Robinette, still under the shock of the plum
+tree&rsquo;s undoing, expected perhaps some further
+exhibition of youthful callousness, but
+Lavendar knew better.</p>
+<p>In their concern and sorrow, the young
+couple had forgotten all minor matters such
+as meals, and luncheon had long been over
+when they reached the house. They could
+see Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s figure in the drawing
+room as they passed the windows, occupying
+exactly her usual seat in her usual attitude.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_310' name='page_310'></a>310</span>
+It was her hour for reading and disapproving
+of the daily paper.</p>
+<p>Robinette and Lavendar entered quietly,
+but nothing in the gravity of their faces
+struck Mrs. de Tracy as strange.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I have a disturbing piece of news to give
+you,&rdquo; Mark began, clearing his throat.
+&ldquo;Mrs. Prettyman died last night in her cottage
+at Wittisham.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>The erect figure in the widow&rsquo;s weeds remained
+motionless. Perhaps the old hand
+that lowered the newspaper trembled somewhat,
+so that its diamonds quivered a little
+more than usual.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;So Mrs. Prettyman is dead?&rdquo; she said.
+Then, as the young people stood looking at
+her with an air of some expectancy, she
+added with a sour glance, &ldquo;Do you expect
+me to be very much agitated by the
+news?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;The death was unexpected,&rdquo; began Lavendar
+lamely.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;She was seventy-five; my age!&rdquo; said
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_311' name='page_311'></a>311</span>
+Mrs. de Tracy with a wintry smile. &ldquo;Is death
+at seventy-five so unexpected an event?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Lavendar said nothing; he had nothing to
+say, and Robinette for the same reason was
+silent. She was gazing at her aunt, almost
+unconsciously, with a wondering look. &ldquo;At
+any rate,&rdquo; continued Mrs. de Tracy, addressing
+her niece, &ldquo;your <i>prot&eacute;g&eacute;e</i> has been fortunate
+in two ways, Robinette. She will
+neither be turned out of her cottage nor
+see the destruction of her plum tree. By the
+way&ndash;&ndash;&rdquo; with a perfectly natural change of
+tone, dismissing at once both Mrs. Prettyman
+and Death&ndash;&ndash;&ldquo;the plum tree <i>is</i> down, I suppose?
+You saw it?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Very much down!&rdquo; answered Lavendar.
+&ldquo;And certainly we saw it! Carnaby does
+nothing by halves!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>A slight change, a kind of shade of softening,
+passed over Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s stern
+features, as the shadow of a summer cloud
+may pass over a rocky hill. She turned suddenly
+to Robinette. &ldquo;Can you tell me on
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_312' name='page_312'></a>312</span>
+your word of honour that you had nothing
+to do with Carnaby&rsquo;s action; that you did
+not put it into his head to cut the plum tree
+down!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I?&rdquo; exclaimed Robinette, scarlet with
+indignation. &ldquo;<i>I?</i> Why&ndash;&ndash;do you want to
+know what I think of the action? I think it
+was perfectly brutal, and the boy who did it
+next door to a criminal! There!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Mrs. de Tracy seemed convinced by the
+energy of this disclaimer. &ldquo;I have always
+considered yours a very candid character,&rdquo;
+she observed with condescension. &ldquo;I believe
+you when you say that you did not influence
+Carnaby in the matter, though I strongly
+suspected you before.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Well, upon my word!&rdquo; ejaculated Robinette
+when they had got out of the room, too
+completely baffled to be more original. &ldquo;What
+does she mean? Has any one ever understood
+the workings of Aunt de Tracy&rsquo;s mind?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t come to me for any more explanations!
+I&rsquo;ve done my best for my client!&rdquo;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_313' name='page_313'></a>313</span>
+cried Lavendar. &ldquo;I give up my brief! I always
+told you Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s character was
+entirely singular.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Let us hope so!&rdquo; commented Robinette
+with energy. &ldquo;I should be sorry for the world
+if it were plural!&rdquo;</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+<p>Carnaby was not in the house, and Lavendar
+proceeded to look for him out of doors.
+He knew the boy was often to be found in a
+high part of the grounds behind the garden,
+where he had some special resort of his own,
+and he went there first. The afternoon had
+clouded over, and a slight shower was falling,
+as Mark followed the wooded path leading
+up hill. A rock-garden bordered it, where
+ferns and flowers were growing, each one of
+which seemed to be contributing some special
+and delicate fragrance to the damp, warm
+air. The beech trees here had low and spreading
+branches which framed now and again
+exquisite glimpses of the river far below and
+the wooded hills beyond it.</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_314' name='page_314'></a>314</span></div>
+<p>Lavendar had not gone far when he found
+Carnaby, Carnaby intensely perturbed, walking
+up and down by himself.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;You don&rsquo;t need to tell me!&rdquo; said the
+boy, with a quick and agitated gesture of
+the hand. &ldquo;Bates told me. Old Mrs. Prettyman&rsquo;s
+dead!&rdquo; His merry, square-set face was
+changed and looked actually haggard, and
+his eyes searched Lavendar&rsquo;s with an expression
+oddly different from their usual fearless
+and straightforward one. They seemed
+afraid. &ldquo;Was it my grandmother&rsquo;s&ndash;&ndash;was it
+our fault?&rdquo; he asked. &ldquo;I, I feel like a murderer.
+Upon my soul, I do!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t encourage morbid ideas, my dear
+fellow!&rdquo; said Lavendar in a matter-of-fact
+tone. &ldquo;There&rsquo;s trouble enough in the world
+without foolish exaggeration. Mrs. Prettyman
+was &lsquo;grave-ripe,&rsquo; as she often said to
+your cousin; a very feeble old woman, whose
+time had come. The doctor&rsquo;s certificate will
+tell you how rheumatism had affected her
+heart, and the neighbours would very soon
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_315' name='page_315'></a>315</span>
+set your mind at rest by describing the number
+of times poor old Lizzie had nearly died
+before.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Think of it, though!&rdquo; said Carnaby
+with wondering eyes. &ldquo;Think of her lying
+dead in the cottage while I hacked and hewed
+at the plum tree just outside! By Jove! it
+makes a fellow feel queer!&rdquo; He shuddered.
+The picture he evoked was certainly a strange
+one enough: a strange picture in the moonlight
+of a night in spring; the doomed
+beauty of the blossoming tree, the blind,
+headstrong human energy working for its
+destruction, and Death over all, stealthy and
+strong!</p>
+<p>&ldquo;What an ass I was!&rdquo; said Carnaby,
+summing up the situation in the only language
+in which he could express himself.
+&ldquo;Sweating and stewing and hacking away&ndash;&ndash;thinking
+myself so awfully clever! And all
+the time things ... things were being arranged
+in quite a different manner!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;We are often made to feel our insignificance
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_316' name='page_316'></a>316</span>
+in ways like this,&rdquo; said Lavendar. &ldquo;We
+are very small atoms, Carnaby, in the path
+of the great forces that sweep us on.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I should rather think so!&rdquo; assented the
+wondering boy. &ldquo;And yet, can a fellow sit
+tight all the time and just wait till things
+happen?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Ask me something else!&rdquo; suggested
+Lavendar ironically.</p>
+<p>There was a short pause. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m awfully
+sorry old Mrs. Prettyman&rsquo;s dead,&rdquo; Carnaby
+said in a very subdued tone. &ldquo;I meant to
+do a lot for her, to try and make up for
+my grandmother&rsquo;s being such a beast.&rdquo; He
+stopped short, and to Lavendar&rsquo;s astonishment,
+his face worked, and two tears
+squeezed themselves out of his eyes and rolled
+over his round cheeks as they might have
+done over a baby&rsquo;s. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s the j-jam I was
+thinking of,&rdquo; he sniffed. &ldquo;Once a pal of
+mine and I were playing the fool in old Mrs.
+Prettyman&rsquo;s garden, pretending to steal the
+plums, and giving her duck bits of bread
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_317' name='page_317'></a>317</span>
+steeped in beer to make it s-squiffy (a duck
+can be just as drunk as a chap). She didn&rsquo;t
+mind a bit. She was a regular old brick, and
+gave us a jolly good tea and a pot of jam to
+take away.... And now she&rsquo;s dead and&ndash;&ndash;and....&rdquo;
+Carnaby&rsquo;s feelings became too
+much for him again, and a handkerchief
+that had seen better and much cleaner days
+came into play. Lavendar flung an arm round
+the boy&rsquo;s shoulder.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;This kind of regret comes to us all, Carnaby,&rdquo;
+he said. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t suppose there&rsquo;s a
+man with a heart in his breast who hasn&rsquo;t
+sometime had to say to himself, I might
+have done better: I might have been kinder:
+it&rsquo;s too late now! But it&rsquo;s never too late!&rdquo;
+added Lavendar under his breath&ndash;&ndash;&ldquo;not
+where Love is!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>The shower was over, and though the sun
+had not come out, a pleasant light lay upon
+the river as the friends walked down; upon
+the river beyond which old Lizzie Prettyman
+was sleeping so peacefully, the sleep of kings
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_318' name='page_318'></a>318</span>
+and beggars, and just and unjust, and rich
+and poor alike. Carnaby had dried his eyes
+but continued in a pensive mood.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Cousin Robin&rsquo;s still angry with me about
+the tree,&rdquo; he said, uncertainly.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;She won&rsquo;t be angry long!&rdquo; Lavendar
+assured him. &ldquo;You and your Cousin Robin
+are going to be firm friends, friends for
+life.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Carnaby seemed a good deal comforted.
+&ldquo;Mind you don&rsquo;t tell her I blubbered!&rdquo; he
+said in sudden alarm. &ldquo;Swear!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;She wouldn&rsquo;t think a bit the worse of
+you for that!&rdquo; said Lavendar.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Swear, though!&rdquo; repeated Carnaby in
+deadly earnest.</p>
+<p>And Lavendar swore, of course.</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+<p>But an influence very unlike Lavendar&rsquo;s
+and a spirit very different from Robinette&rsquo;s
+enfolded Carnaby de Tracy in his home and
+fought, as it were, for his soul. That night,
+after the last lamp had been put out by the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_319' name='page_319'></a>319</span>
+careful Bates, and after Benson had bade a
+respectful good-night to her mistress, a light
+still burned in Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s room. Presently,
+carried in her hand, it flitted out along
+the silent passages, past rows of doors which
+were closed upon empty rooms or upon unconscious
+sleepers, till it came to Carnaby&rsquo;s
+door; to the Boys&rsquo; Room, as that far-away
+and most unluxurious apartment had always
+been called. Mrs. de Tracy was making a
+pilgrimage to the shrine of one of her
+gods. She opened the door, and closing it
+gently behind her, she stood beside Carnaby&rsquo;s
+bed and looked at him, intently and haggardly.</p>
+<p>Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s was a singular character,
+as Mark Lavendar had said. The circumstances
+of her widowhood with its heavy responsibilities
+had perhaps hardly been fair
+to her. There had been little room for the
+kindlier and softer feelings, though it is to
+be feared that they would not have found
+much congenial soil in her heart. The personal
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_320' name='page_320'></a>320</span>
+selfishness in her had long been merged
+in the greater and harder selfishness of caste;
+she had become a mere machine for the keeping
+up of Stoke Revel.</p>
+<p>But to-night she was moved by the positively
+human sentiment which had been
+stirred in her by Carnaby&rsquo;s startling act of
+cutting the plum tree down. Ah! let fools
+believe if they could that she was angry with
+the boy! She had never felt anger less or
+pride more. While others talked and argued,
+shilly-shallied, made love, muddled and made
+mistakes, her grandson, the man of the
+race that always ruled, had cut the knot
+for himself, without hesitation and without
+compunction, without consulting anyone or
+asking anyone&rsquo;s leave. That was the way
+the de Tracys had always acted. And it
+seemed to Mrs. de Tracy a crowning coincidence,
+a fitting kind of poetical justice,
+that Carnaby&rsquo;s action should actually have
+prevented the sale of the land; that dreaded,
+detestable sale of the first land that the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_321' name='page_321'></a>321</span>
+de Tracys had held upon the banks of the
+river.</p>
+<p>So, since Carnaby was to be a man of the
+right kind, his grandmother had come to
+look at him, not in love, as other women come
+to such bedsides, but in pride of heart. The
+boy, after his &ldquo;white night&rdquo; at Wittisham
+and the varied emotions of the succeeding
+day, lay on his side, in the deep, recuperative
+sleep of youth whence its energies are drawn
+and in which its vigors are renewed. His
+round cheek indented the pillow, his rumpled
+hair stirred in the breeze that blew in
+at the window, his arm and his open hand,
+relaxed, lay along the sheet. Another woman
+would have straightened the bed-clothes
+above him; another might have touched his
+hair or hand; another kissed his cheek. But
+not even because he was like her departed
+husband, like the man who five and fifty
+years before had courted a certain cold and
+proud, handsome and penniless Miss Augusta
+Gallup, would Mrs. de Tracy do these
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_322' name='page_322'></a>322</span>
+things. She had had her sensation, such as
+it was, her secret moment of emotion, and
+was satisfied. She left the room as she
+had come, the candle casting exaggerated
+shadows of herself upon the walls where
+Carnaby&rsquo;s bats and fishing rods and sporting
+prints hung.</p>
+<p>It is sad to be old as Mrs. de Tracy
+was old, but her age was of her own making,
+a shrinkage of the heart, a drying up
+of the wells of feeling that need not have
+been.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I should be better out of the way,&rdquo; her
+bitterness said within her, and alas! it was
+true. Her great, gaunt room seemed very
+lonely, very full of shadows when she returned
+to it. Rupert, who always slept at
+her bedside, awaited her. Disturbed at this
+unwonted hour, he stirred in his basket,
+wheezed and gurgled, turned round and
+round and could not get comfortable, whined,
+and looked up in his mistress&rsquo;s face. She stood
+watching him with a sort of grim pity, and,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_323' name='page_323'></a>323</span>
+strangely enough, bestowed upon him the
+caress she had not found for her grandson.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Poor Rupert! You are getting too old,
+like your mistress! Your departure, like hers,
+will be a sorrow to no one!&rdquo; Rupert seemed
+to wheeze an asthmatical consent, and presently
+he snuggled down in his basket and
+went to sleep.</p>
+<hr class='toprule' />
+<div class='chsp'>
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_324' name='page_324'></a>324</span>
+<a name='XXV_THE_BELLS_OF_STOKE_REVEL' id='XXV_THE_BELLS_OF_STOKE_REVEL'></a>
+<h2>XXV</h2>
+<h3>THE BELLS OF STOKE REVEL</h3>
+</div>
+<p>On Sunday morning Robinette and Lavendar
+were both ready for church, by some
+strange coincidence, half an hour too soon.
+He was standing at the door as she came down
+into the hall. Mrs. de Tracy and Miss Smeardon
+were nowhere to be seen; even Carnaby
+was invisible, but the shrill, infuriated yelping
+of the Prince Charles from the drawing
+room indicated his whereabouts only too
+plainly.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;We&rsquo;re much too early,&rdquo; said Robinette,
+glancing at the clock.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Shall we walk through the buttercup
+meadow, then&ndash;&ndash;you and I?&rdquo; asked Lavendar.
+His voice was low, and Robinette answered
+very softly. She wore a white dress that
+morning without a touch of colour.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I couldn&rsquo;t wear black to-day for Nurse,&rdquo;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_325' name='page_325'></a>325</span>
+she said, in answer to his glance, &ldquo;but I
+couldn&rsquo;t wear any colour, either.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;You&rsquo;re as white as the plum tree was!&rdquo;
+said Lavendar. &ldquo;I remember thinking that
+it looked like a bride.&rdquo; Robinette made no
+reply. He ventured to look up at her as he
+spoke, and she was smiling although her lip
+quivered and her eyes were full of tears.
+Lavendar&rsquo;s heart beat uncomfortably fast as
+they walked through the meadow towards
+the stile which led into the churchyard.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s too soon to go in yet,&rdquo; he said.
+&ldquo;The bells haven&rsquo;t begun.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Let&rsquo;s stop here. It&rsquo;s cool in the shadow,&rdquo;
+said Robinette. She leaned on the wall and
+looked out at the shining reaches of the river.
+&ldquo;The swelling of Jordan is over now,&rdquo; she
+said with a little smile and a sigh. &ldquo;The tide
+has come up, and how quiet everything is!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>The water mirrored the hills and the ships
+and the gracious sky above them. There was
+scarcely a sound in the air. At the point
+where they stood, the Manor House was
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_326' name='page_326'></a>326</span>
+hidden from view, and only the squat old
+tower of the church was visible, and the yew
+tree rising above the wall against the golden
+field. A bush of briar covered with white roses
+hung above them, just behind Robinette, and
+Lavendar looking at her in this English setting
+on an English Sunday morning, wondered
+to himself, as he had so often done before, if
+she could ever make this country her home.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Yet she has English blood as well as I,&rdquo;
+he thought. &ldquo;Why, the very name on the
+old bells of the church there, records the
+memory of an ancestress of hers! We cannot
+be so far apart.&rdquo; Looking at her standing
+there, he rehearsed to himself all that he
+meant to say, oh, a great many things both
+true and eloquent, but at that moment every
+word forsook him. Yet this was probably the
+best opportunity he would have of telling her
+what was burning in his heart: telling her
+how she had beguiled him at first by her
+quick understanding and her frolicsome wit,
+because all that sort of thing was so new to
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_327' name='page_327'></a>327</span>
+him. She had come like a mountain spring
+to a thirsty man. He had been groping for
+inspiration and for help: now he seemed to
+find them all in her. She was so much more
+than charming, though it was her charm that
+first impressed him; so much more than
+pretty, though her face attracted him at
+first; so much more than magnetic, though
+she drew him to her at their first meeting with
+bonds as delicate as they were strong. These
+were tangible, vital, legitimate qualities&ndash;&ndash;but
+were they all? Could lips part so, could
+eyes shine so, could voice tremble so, if there
+were not something underneath; a good
+heart, fidelity, warmth of nature?</p>
+<p>&ldquo;For the first time,&rdquo; he thought, &ldquo;I long
+to be worthy of a woman. But I would not
+tell her how I love her at this moment, unless
+I felt I need not be wholly unequal to her
+demands. I have never desired anything
+strongly enough to struggle for it, up to now;
+but she has set my springs in motion, and I
+can work for her until I die!&rdquo;</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_328' name='page_328'></a>328</span></div>
+<p>All this he thought, but never a word
+he said. Then the church clock struck and
+the clashing bells began. They shook the air,
+the earth, the ancient stones, the very nests
+upon the trees, and sent the rooks flying
+black as ink against the yellow buttercups
+in the meadow.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;We must go, in a few minutes,&rdquo; said
+Robinette. &ldquo;Oh, will you pull me some of
+those white roses up there?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Lavendar swung himself up and drawing
+down a bunch he pulled off two white buds.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Will you take them?&rdquo; he asked, holding
+them out to her. Then suddenly he said, very
+low and very humbly, &ldquo;Oh, take me too;
+take me, Robinette, though no man was ever
+so unworthy!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Robinette laid the roses on the wall beside
+her.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;For my part,&rdquo; she said, turning to Lavendar
+with a little laugh that was half a sob;
+&ldquo;for my part, I like giving better than taking!&rdquo;
+She put both her hands in his and
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_329' name='page_329'></a>329</span>
+looked into his face. &ldquo;Here is my life,&rdquo; she
+said simply. &ldquo;I want to belong to you, to help
+you, to live by your side.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I oughtn&rsquo;t to take you at your word,&rdquo;
+he said, his voice choked with emotion. &ldquo;You
+are far too good for me!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Hush,&rdquo; Robinetta answered, putting a
+finger on his lip; &ldquo;it isn&rsquo;t a question of how
+great you are or how wonderful: it&rsquo;s a question
+of what we can be to each other. I&rsquo;d
+rather have you than the Duke of Wellington
+or Marcus Aurelius, and I believe you
+wouldn&rsquo;t change me for Helen of Troy!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I have nothing to bring you, nothing,&rdquo;
+said Lavendar again, &ldquo;nothing but my love
+and my whole heart.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;If all the kingdoms of the earth were
+offered to me instead, I would still take you
+and what you give me,&rdquo; Robinette answered.</p>
+<p>Lavendar laid his cheek against her bright
+hair and sighed deeply. In that sigh there
+passed away all former things, and behold,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_330' name='page_330'></a>330</span>
+all things became new. Two cuckoos answered
+each other from opposite banks of
+the river and two hearts sang songs of joy
+that met and mingled and floated upward.</p>
+<p>Again the bells broke out overhead, filling
+the air with music that had rung from them
+ever since just such another morning hundreds
+of years before, when they rang their
+first peal from the church tower, bearing the
+legend newly cut upon them: &ldquo;Pray for
+the Soul of Anne de Tracy, 1538.&rdquo; And
+Anne de Tracy&rsquo;s memory was forgotten&ndash;&ndash;so
+long forgotten&ndash;&ndash;except for the bells that
+carried her name!</p>
+<p>Yet in these same meadows that she must
+have known, spring was come once more.
+The Devonshire plum trees had budded and
+blossomed and shed their petals year after
+year, and year after year, since the bells first
+swung in the air; and now Hope was born
+once again, and Youth, and Love, which is
+immortal!</p>
+<hr class='pb' />
+<p class='tp' >The Riverside Press</p>
+<p class='tp' style='font-size:smaller;'>CAMBRIDGE&nbsp;.&nbsp;MASSACHUSETTS</p>
+<p class='tp' style='font-size:smaller;'>U&nbsp;.&nbsp;S&nbsp;.&nbsp;A</p>
+<hr class='b' />
+<hr class='d' />
+<p style='font-size:1.4em; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;'>REBECCA<br /><span style='font-size:smaller'>of SUNNYBROOK FARM</span></p>
+<hr class='s' />
+<p style='text-align:right; font-size:1.2em;  margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;'>By KATE DOUGLAS WIGGIN</p>
+<hr class='d' />
+<p>&ldquo;Of all the children of Mrs. Wiggin&rsquo;s brain, the most
+laughable and the most lovable is Rebecca.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>Life, N. Y.</i></p>
+<p>&ldquo;Rebecca creeps right into one&rsquo;s affections and stays
+there.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>Philadelphia Item.</i></p>
+<p>&ldquo;A character that is irresistible in her quaint, humorous
+originality.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>Cleveland Leader.</i></p>
+<p>&ldquo;Rebecca is as refreshing as a draught of spring
+water.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>Los Angeles Times.</i></p>
+<p>&ldquo;Rebecca has come to stay with one for all time, and
+delight one perpetually, like Marjorie Fleming.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>Literary World, Boston.</i></p>
+<hr class='s' />
+<p style='text-align:left'>With decorative cover</p>
+<p style='text-align:right'>12mo, $1.25</p>
+<hr class='d' />
+<table summary='' width='100%'>
+<tr>
+<td>
+<p class='tp'>HOUGHTON<br />MIFFLIN<br />COMPANY</p>
+</td>
+<td>
+<div style='margin:10px auto; text-align:center;'>
+<img alt='emblem' src='images/illus-emb.jpg' />
+</div>
+</td>
+<td>
+<p class='tp'>BOSTON<br />AND<br />NEW YORK</p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+<hr class='b' />
+<hr class='d' />
+<p style='font-size:1.4em; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;'>THE SIEGE <span style='font-size:smaller;'>OF THE</span> SEVEN SUITORS</p>
+<hr class='s' />
+<p style='text-align:right; font-size:1.2em;  margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;'>By MEREDITH NICHOLSON</p>
+<hr class='d' />
+<p>&ldquo;It is not often that one comes upon so clean a farce,
+so delightful, good-humored satire.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>Chicago Evening
+Post.</i></p>
+<p>&ldquo;He has woven wit and humor and clever satire into
+this airy fantasy of twentieth century life in a way that
+should add to his literary fame.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>Indianapolis Star.</i></p>
+<p>&ldquo;For sheer cleverness of invention and sprightly wit
+this story has had no peer in recent years.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>New
+York Press.</i></p>
+<p>&ldquo;Just the sort of book which will delight those seeking
+clean, wholesome entertainment.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>Boston Globe.</i></p>
+<p>&ldquo;Meredith Nicholson&rsquo;s is a delightful book, witty, epigrammatic,
+flavorsome ... recalls Frank Stockton&rsquo;s
+bewitching foolery and perennial charm.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>Milwaukee
+Free Press.</i></p>
+<hr class='s' />
+<p style='text-align:right'>With frontispiece by C. Coles Phillips and illustrations by<br />Reginald Birch. $1.20 <i>net</i>. Postage 14 cents.</p>
+<hr class='d' />
+<table summary='' width='100%'>
+<tr>
+<td>
+<p class='tp'>HOUGHTON<br />MIFFLIN<br />COMPANY</p>
+</td>
+<td>
+<div style='margin:10px auto; text-align:center;'>
+<img alt='emblem' src='images/illus-emb.jpg' />
+</div>
+</td>
+<td>
+<p class='tp'>BOSTON<br />AND<br />NEW YORK</p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+<hr class='b' />
+<hr class='d' />
+<p style='font-size:1.4em; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;'>A MAN&rsquo;S MAN</p>
+<hr class='s' />
+<p style='text-align:right; font-size:1.2em;  margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;'>By IAN HAY</p>
+<hr class='d' />
+<p>&ldquo;An admirable romance of adventure. It tells of the
+life of one Hughie Marrable, who, from college days to
+the time when fate relented, had no luck with women.
+The story is cleverly written and full of sprightly
+axioms.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>Philadelphia Ledger.</i></p>
+<p>&ldquo;It is a very joyous book, and the writer&rsquo;s powers of
+characterization are much out of the common.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>The
+Dial.</i></p>
+<p>&ldquo;A good, clean, straightforward bit of fiction, with
+likable people in it, and enough action to keep up the
+suspense throughout.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>Minneapolis Journal.</i></p>
+<p>&ldquo;The reader will search contemporary fiction far before
+he meets a novel which will give him the same
+frank pleasure and amusement.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>London Bookman.</i></p>
+<hr class='s' />
+<p style='text-align:right'>With frontispiece. 12mo, $1.20 <i>net</i>. Postage 10 cents.</p>
+<hr class='d' />
+<table summary='' width='100%'>
+<tr>
+<td>
+<p class='tp'>HOUGHTON<br />MIFFLIN<br />COMPANY</p>
+</td>
+<td>
+<div style='margin:10px auto; text-align:center;'>
+<img alt='emblem' src='images/illus-emb.jpg' />
+</div>
+</td>
+<td>
+<p class='tp'>BOSTON<br />AND<br />NEW YORK</p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+<hr class='b' />
+<hr class='d' />
+<p style='font-size:1.4em; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;'>SCOTTIE AND HIS LADY</p>
+<hr class='s' />
+<p style='text-align:right; font-size:1.2em;  margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;'>By MARGARET MORSE</p>
+<hr class='d' />
+<p>&ldquo;The story of a handsome, intelligent collie dog. It
+is entertainingly and sympathetically told, and sure of
+the absorbed interest of every young lover of animals.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>Chicago
+Daily News.</i></p>
+<p>&ldquo;Instantly deserves a place with Richard Harding
+Davis&rsquo;s &lsquo;Bar Sinister,&rsquo; Alfred Ollivant&rsquo;s &lsquo;Bob, Son of
+Battle,&rsquo; and Jack London&rsquo;s &lsquo;Call of the Wild.&rsquo;&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>Boston
+Transcript.</i></p>
+<p>&ldquo;A delightful love story is woven in with the joys and
+trials of Scottie, who finds perfect satisfaction in the
+happy culmination of the romance of his lady.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>Chicago
+Record-Herald.</i></p>
+<hr class='s' />
+<p style='text-align:right'>Illustrated by H. M. Brett.<br />12mo, $1.10 <i>net</i>. Postage 11 cents.</p>
+<hr class='d' />
+<table summary='' width='100%'>
+<tr>
+<td>
+<p class='tp'>HOUGHTON<br />MIFFLIN<br />COMPANY</p>
+</td>
+<td>
+<div style='margin:10px auto; text-align:center;'>
+<img alt='emblem' src='images/illus-emb.jpg' />
+</div>
+</td>
+<td>
+<p class='tp'>BOSTON<br />AND<br />NEW YORK</p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+<hr class='b' />
+<hr class='d' />
+<p style='font-size:1.4em; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;'>JOHN WINTERBOURNE&rsquo;S FAMILY</p>
+<hr class='s' />
+<p style='text-align:right; font-size:1.2em;  margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;'>By ALICE BROWN</p>
+<hr class='d' />
+<p>&ldquo;A delightful and unusual story. The manner in
+which the hero&rsquo;s male solitude is invaded and set right
+is amusing and eccentric enough to have been devised
+by the late Frank Stockton. It is a story that is well
+worth reading.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>New York Sun.</i></p>
+<p>&ldquo;Is to be counted among the best novels of this entertaining
+writer ... written with a skilful and delicate
+touch.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>Springfield Republican.</i></p>
+<p>&ldquo;In its literary graces, in its portrayal of characters
+that are never commonplace though genuinely human,
+and in its development of a singular social situation,
+the book is one to give delight.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>Philadelphia Press.</i></p>
+<hr class='s' />
+<p style='text-align:right'>12mo, $1.35 <i>net</i>. Postage 13 cents.</p>
+<hr class='d' />
+<table summary='' width='100%'>
+<tr>
+<td>
+<p class='tp'>HOUGHTON<br />MIFFLIN<br />COMPANY</p>
+</td>
+<td>
+<div style='margin:10px auto; text-align:center;'>
+<img alt='emblem' src='images/illus-emb.jpg' />
+</div>
+</td>
+<td>
+<p class='tp'>BOSTON<br />AND<br />NEW YORK</p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+<hr class='b' />
+<hr class='d' />
+<p style='font-size:1.4em; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;'>THE PROFESSIONAL AUNT</p>
+<hr class='s' />
+<p style='text-align:right; font-size:1.2em;  margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;'>By MARY C. E. WEMYSS</p>
+<hr class='d' />
+<p>&ldquo;One of the most delightful stories that has ever
+crossed the water.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>Louisville Courier-Journal.</i></p>
+<p>&ldquo;The legitimate successor of &lsquo;Helen&rsquo;s Babies.&rsquo;&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>Clara Louise Burnham.</i></p>
+<p>&ldquo;A classic in the literature of childhood.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>San Francisco Chronicle.</i></p>
+<p>&ldquo;Mrs. Wemyss is a formidable rival to E. Nesbit,
+who hitherto has stood practically alone as a charmingly
+humorous interpreter of child life.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>Chicago Inter-Ocean.</i></p>
+<p>&ldquo;A charming, witty, tender book.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>Kate Douglas Wiggin.</i></p>
+<p>&ldquo;It is a sunny, warm-hearted humorous story, that
+leaves the reader with a sense of time well spent in
+its perusal.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>Brooklyn Eagle.</i></p>
+<hr class='s' />
+<p style='text-align:right'>16mo. $1.00 <i>net</i>. Postage 10 cents.</p>
+<hr class='d' />
+<table summary='' width='100%'>
+<tr>
+<td>
+<p class='tp'>HOUGHTON<br />MIFFLIN<br />COMPANY</p>
+</td>
+<td>
+<div style='margin:10px auto; text-align:center;'>
+<img alt='emblem' src='images/illus-emb.jpg' />
+</div>
+</td>
+<td>
+<p class='tp'>BOSTON<br />AND<br />NEW YORK</p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+<!-- generated by ppg.rb version: 3.15 -->
+<!-- timestamp: Fri Sep 25 17:59:47 -0400 2009 -->
+
+<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30090 ***</div>
+</body>
+</html>
diff --git a/30090.txt b/30090.txt
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-The Project Gutenberg EBook of Robinetta, by

-Kate Douglas Wiggin and Mary Findlater and Jane Findlater and Allan McAulay

-

-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: Robinetta

-

-Author: Kate Douglas Wiggin

-        Mary Findlater

-        Jane Findlater

-        Allan McAulay

-

-Release Date: September 25, 2009 [EBook #30090]

-

-Language: English

-

-Character set encoding: ASCII

-

-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROBINETTA ***

-

-

-

-

-Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed

-Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

-ROBINETTA

-

-

-

-

-By Kate Douglas Wiggin

-

-ROBINETTA. Illustrated. 12mo, $1.10 net. Postage, 10 cents.

-

-REBECCA OF SUNNYBROOK FARM. Holiday Edition. Illustrated. Crown 8vo, $1.50.

-

-SUSANNA AND SUE. Illustrated by Alice Barber Stephens. Crown 8vo, $1.50

-net. Postage 15 cents.

-

-THE OLD PEABODY PEW. With decorations and illustrations. Large crown 8vo,

-$1.50.

-

-REBECCA OF SUNNYBROOK FARM. 12mo, $1.25.

-

-NEW CHRONICLES OF REBECCA. Illustrated by F. C. Yohn. 12mo, $1.25.

-

-ROSE O' THE RIVER. Illustrated in color. 12mo, 1.25.

-

-THE AFFAIR AT THE INN. Illustrated. 12mo, $1.25.

-

-THE DIARY OF A GOOSE GIRL. Illustrated. 12mo, $1.00.

-

-A CATHEDRAL COURTSHIP, AND PENELOPE'S ENGLISH EXPERIENCES. Illustrated.

-16mo, $1.00.

-

-PENELOPE'S PROGRESS. 16mo, $1.25.

-

-PENELOPE'S IRISH EXPERIENCES. 16mo, $1.25.

-

-PENELOPE'S EXPERIENCES. I. England; II. Scotland; III. Ireland; Holiday

-Edition. With many illustrations by Charles E. Brock. 3 vols., each 12mo,

-$2.00; the set, $6.00.

-

-A CATHEDRAL COURTSHIP. Holiday Edition, enlarged. Illustrated by C. E.

-Brock. 12mo, $1.50.

-

-THE BIRDS' CHRISTMAS CAROL. Illustrated. Square 12mo, 50 cents.

-

-THE STORY OF PATSY. Illustrated. Square 12mo, 60 cents.

-

-A SUMMER IN A CANYON. A California Story. Illustrated. 16mo, $1.25.

-

-TIMOTHY'S QUEST. A Story for Anybody, Young or Old, who cares to read it.

-16mo, $1.00. Holiday Edition. Illustrated. Crown 8vo, $1.50.

-

-POLLY OLIVER'S PROBLEM. Illustrated. 16mo, $1.00. In Riverside School

-Library. 60 cents, net; postpaid.

-

-THE VILLAGE WATCH-TOWER. 16mo, $1.00.

-

-MARM LISA. 16mo, $1.00.

-

-NINE LOVE SONGS, AND A CAROL. Music by Mrs. Wiggin. Words by Herrick,

-Sill, and others. Square 8vo, $1.25.

-

-HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY

-

-Boston and New York

-

-

-

-

-[Illustration]

-

-

-

-

-ROBINETTA

-

-by

-

-Kate Douglas Wiggin

-

-Mary Findlater

-

-Jane Findlater

-

-Allan McAulay

-

-BOSTON AND NEW YORK

-

-Houghton Mifflin Company

-

-The Riverside Press, Cambridge

-

-

-

-

-COPYRIGHT, 1910 AND 1911, BY KATE DOUGLAS RIGGS

-

-COPYRIGHT, 1911, BY HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY

-

-ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

-

-Published February 1911

-

-

-

-

-CONTENTS

-

-      I. THE PLUM TREE                                               1

-     II. THE MANOR HOUSE                                             7

-    III. YOUNG MRS. LORING                                          19

-     IV. A CHILLY RECEPTION                                         29

-      V. AT WITTISHAM                                               39

-     VI. MARK LAVENDAR                                              54

-    VII. A CROSS-EXAMINATION                                        69

-   VIII. SUNDAY AT STOKE REVEL                                      87

-     IX. POINTS OF VIEW                                             99

-      X. A NEW KINSMAN                                             113

-     XI. THE SANDS AT WESTON                                       127

-    XII. LOVE IN THE MUD                                           151

-   XIII. CARNABY TO THE RESCUE                                     170

-    XIV. THE EMPTY SHRINE                                          181

-     XV. "NOW LUBIN IS AWAY"                                       194

-    XVI. TWO LETTERS                                               210

-   XVII. MRS. DE TRACY CROSSES THE FERRY                           217

-  XVIII. THE STOKE REVEL JEWELS                                    234

-    XIX. LAWYER AND CLIENT                                         250

-     XX. THE NEW HOME                                              260

-    XXI. CARNABY CUTS THE KNOT                                     273

-   XXII. CONSEQUENCES                                              284

-  XXIII. DEATH AND LIFE                                            299

-   XXIV. GRANDMOTHER AND GRANDSON                                  309

-    XXV. THE BELLS OF STOKE REVEL                                  324

-

-

-

-

-ROBINETTA

-

-I

-

-THE PLUM TREE

-

-

-At Wittisham several of the little houses had crept down very close to

-the river. Mrs. Prettyman's cottage was just like a hive made for the

-habitation of some gigantic bee; its pointed roof covered with deep,

-close-cut thatch the colour of a donkey's hide. There were small

-windows under the overhanging eaves, a pathway of irregular flat

-stones ran up to the doorway, and a bit of low wall divided the tiny

-garden from the river. The Plum Tree grew just beside the wall, so

-near indeed that it could look at itself on spring days when the water

-was like a mirror. In autumn the branches on that side of the tree

-were the first to be shaken, lest any of the fruit should fall down

-and be lost. Sometimes a village child treading cautiously on bare

-toes amongst the stones along the narrow margin, would pounce upon a

-plum with a squeal of joy, for although the village was surrounded

-with orchards, the fruit of Mrs. Prettyman's tree had a flavour all

-its own.

-

-The tree had been given to her by a nephew who was a gardener in a

-great fruit orchard in the North, and her husband had planted and

-tended it for years. It began life as a slender thing with two or

-three rods of branches, that looked as if the first wind of winter

-would blow it away, but before the storms came, it had begun to

-trust itself to the new earth, and to root itself with force and

-determination. There were good soil and water near it, and plenty of

-sunshine, and, as is the way of Nature, it set itself to do its own

-business at all seasons, unlike the distracted heart of man. The

-traffic of the river came and went; around the headland the big

-ships were steering in, or going out to sea; and in the village

-the human life went on while the Plum Tree grew high enough to look

-over the wall. Its stem by that time had a firm footing; next it took

-a charming bend to the side, and then again threw out new branches

-in that direction. It turned itself from the prevailing wind, throwing

-a new grace into its attitude, and went on growing; returning in

-blossom and leaves and fruit an hundredfold for all that it received

-from the earth and the sun.

-

-In spring it was enchanting; at first, before the blossoms came out,

-with small bright leaves, and buds like pearls, heaped upon the

-branches; then, later, when the whole tree was white, imaged like a

-bride, in the looking-glass of the river. It only wanted a nightingale

-to sing in it by moonlight. There were no nightingales there, but the

-thrushes sang in the dawning, and the little birds whose voices were

-sweet and thin chirruped about it in crowds, while the larks, trilling

-out the ardour of mating time, sometimes rose from their nests in the

-grass and soared over its topmost branches on their skyward flight.

-

-Spring, therefore, was its merriest time, for then every passer-by

-would cry, "What a beautiful tree!" or "Did ye ever see the likes of

-it?"

-

-There were a few days of inevitable sadness a little later when its

-million petals fell and made a delicate carpet of snow on the ground.

-There they lay in a kind of fairy ring, as if there had been a shower

-of mother-of-pearl in the April night; and no human creature would

-have dared set a vandal foot on that magic circle, and mar the

-perfection of its beauty. All the same the Plum Tree had lost its

-petals, and that was hard to bear at first. But though its Wittisham

-neighbours often said to summer trippers, "I wish you could have seen

-it in blossom!" the Plum Tree did not repine, because of the

-secrets--the thousand, thousand secrets--it held under its leaves.

-"The blossoms were but a promise," it thought, "and soon everybody

-will see the meaning of them."

-

-Then the tiny green globes began to appear on every branch and twig;

-crowding, crowding, crowding till it seemed as if there could never be

-room for so many to grow; but the weaker ones fell from the boughs or

-were blown away when the wind was fierce, so the Plum Tree felt no

-anxiety, knowing that it was built for a large family! The little

-green globes grew and grew, and drank in sweet mother-juices, and

-swelled, and when the summer sun touched their cheeks all day they

-flushed and reddened, till when August came the tree was laden with

-purpling fruit; fruit so tempting that its rosy beauty had sometimes

-to be hidden under a veil of grey fishing net, lest the myriad

-bird-friends it had made during the summer should love it too much for

-its own good.

-

-So the Plum Tree grew and flourished, taking its part in the pageant

-of the seasons, unaware that its existence was to be interwoven with

-that of men; or that creatures of another order of being were to owe

-some changes in their fortunes to its silent obedience to the motive

-of life.

-

-

-

-

-II

-

-THE MANOR HOUSE

-

-

-The long, low drawing room of the Manor at Stoke Revel was the warmest

-and most genial room in the old Georgian house. It was four-windowed

-and faced south, and even on this morning of a chilly and backward

-spring, the tentative sunshine of April had contrived to put out the

-fire in the steel grate. One of the windows opened wide to the garden,

-and let in a scent which was less of flowers than of the promise of

-flowers--a scent of earth and green leaves, of the leafless daphne

-still a-bloom in the shrubbery, of hyacinths and daffodils and tulips

-and primroses still sheathed in their buds and awaiting a warmer air.

-

-But this promise of spring borne into the room by the wandering breeze

-from the river, was nipped, as it were, by the frigid spirit of age

-and formalism in its living occupants. Mrs. de Tracy, a lady of

-seventy-five, sat at her writing-table. Her companion, Miss Smeardon,

-a person of indeterminate age, nursed the lap-dog Rupert during such

-time as her employer was too deeply engaged to fulfil that agreeable

-duty. Mrs. de Tracy, as she wrote, was surrounded by countless

-photographs of her family and her wide connection, most prominent

-among them two--that of her husband, Admiral de Tracy, who had died

-many years ago, and that of her grandson, his successor, whose

-guardian she was, and whose minority she directed. Her eldest son, the

-father of this boy, who had died on his ship off the coast of Africa;

-his wife, dead too these many years; her other sons as well (she had

-borne four); their wives and children--grown men, fashionable women,

-beautiful children, fat babies: the likenesses of them all were around

-her, standing amid china and flowers and bric-a-brac on the crowded

-tables and what-nots of the not inharmonious and yet shabby Victorian

-room. Mrs. de Tracy, it might at a glance be seen, was no innovator,

-either in furniture, in dress, or probably in ideas. As she was

-dressed now, in the severely simple black of a widow, so she had been

-dressed when she first mourned Admiral de Tracy. The muslin ends of

-her widow's cap fell upon her shoulders, and its border rested on the

-hard lines of iron-grey hair which framed a face small, pale, aquiline

-in character and decidedly austere in expression.

-

-She took one from a docketed pile of letters and held it up under her

-glasses, the sun suddenly striking a dazzle of blue and green from the

-diamond rings on her small, withered hands. Then she read it aloud to

-her companion in an even and chilly voice. She had read it before, in

-the same way, at the same hour, several times. The letter, couched in

-an epistolary style largely dependent upon underlining, appeared to

-contain, nevertheless, some matter of moment. It was dated from Eaton

-Square, in London, some weeks before, and signed Maria Spalding. ("Her

-mother was a Gallup," Mrs. de Tracy would say, if any one asked who

-Maria Spalding was; and this was considered sufficient, for Mrs. de

-Tracy's maiden name had been Gallup,--not euphonious but nevertheless

-aristocratic.)

-

-                  *       *       *       *       *

-

-MY DEAR AUGUSTA (Maria Spalding wrote): I am going to ask you to

-help me out of a _difficulty_. There is no _use_ beating about the

-bush. You know that Cynthia's daughter Robinetta (Loring is her

-_married_ name) has been with me for a month. _American_ or no

-_American_, I meant to have had her for a part of the season, and to

-_present_ her, if possible (so _good_ for these Americans to learn

-what royalty _is_ and to breathe the atmosphere which doth hedge a

-_King_ as Shakespeare says, and which they can never _have_, of

-course, in a country like theirs). I know you can't _approve_, dear

-Augusta, and you will blame me for sentimentality--but I never

-_can_ forget what a _sweet_ creature Cynthia was before she ran away

-with that odious American--and my _greatest_ friend in girlhood, too,

-you must remember. So Robinette, as she is generally called, has

-come to my house as a _home_, but a most _unlucky_ thing has

-happened. I have had influenza so badly that it has affected my

-_heart_ (an old trouble), I am ordered to Nauheim, and Robinette is

-_stranded_, poor dear. She has few friends in London and certainly

-none who can put her up. Tho' she _is_ a widow, she is only twenty-two

-(just _imagine_!), very pretty, and really, tho' you won't believe

-it, _quite_ nice. I am _desperate_, and just wondering if you

-would let by-gones be by-gones, and receive her at Stoke Revel. She

-has set her heart upon seeing the place, and some _picture_ she

-was called after (I can't remember it, so it can't be one of the

-_famous_ Stoke Revel group--a _copy_, I fancy), and on paying a

-visit to Lizzie Prettyman, her mother's old nurse at Wittisham over

-the river. She _promised_ her mother she would do this--and such a

-promise is _sacred_, don't you think? It's such an _old_ story

-now, Cynthia's American marriage, and no fault of _Robinette's_,

-poor dear child. Her wish is almost a _pious_ one, don't you agree, to

-pay respect to her mother's memory and the family, and is _much_ to

-be encouraged in these days of radicalism, when every natural tie

-is loosened and people pay no more _respect_ to their parents than if

-they hadn't any, but had made themselves and brought themselves up

-from the beginning. So don't you think it's a _good_ thing to

-encourage the _right_ kind of feeling in Robinette, especially as

-she is an _American_, you know....

-

-                  *       *       *       *       *

-

-Mrs. de Tracy paused, and replaced the letter in the package from

-which she had withdrawn it.

-

-"Maria Spalding's point of view," she observed, "has, I confess,

-helped me to overcome the extreme reluctance I felt to receive the

-child of that American here. Cynthia de Tracy's elopement nearly broke

-my dear husband's heart. She was the apple of his eye before our

-marriage; so much younger than himself that she was like his child

-rather than his sister."

-

-"What a shock it must have been!" murmured the companion. "What

-ingratitude! Can you really receive her child? Of course you know

-best, Mrs. de Tracy; but it seems a risk."

-

-"Hardly a risk," rejoined Mrs. de Tracy with dignity. "But it is a

-trial to me, and an effort that I scarcely feel called upon to make."

-

-Miss Smeardon was so well versed in her duties that she knew she

-always had to urge her employer to do exactly what she most wanted to

-do, and the poor creature had developed a really wonderful ingenuity

-in divining what these wishes were. Just now, however, she was, to use

-a sporting phrase, "at fault" for a minute. She could not exactly

-tell whether Mrs. de Tracy wanted to be urged to ask her niece to

-Stoke Revel, or whether she wanted to be supplied with a really

-plausible excuse for not doing so. Those of you who have seen a hound

-at fault can imagine the companion at this moment: irresolute, tense,

-desperately anxious to find and follow up the right scent. Compromise,

-that useful refuge, came to her aid.

-

-"It _is_ difficult to know," she faltered. Then Mrs. de Tracy gave her

-the lead.

-

-"Maria Spalding is right when she says that my husband's niece

-contemplates a duty in visiting Stoke Revel," she announced. "The

-young woman is the lawful daughter of Cynthia de Tracy that was: our

-solicitors could never discover anything dubious in the marriage,

-though we long suspected it. Therefore, though I never could have

-invited her here, I admit that the Admiral's niece has a right to

-come, in a way."

-

-"Though her maiden name was Bean!" ejaculated the companion, almost

-under her breath. "There are Pease in the North, as everyone knows;

-perhaps there are Beans somewhere."

-

-"There have never been Beans," said Mrs. de Tracy solemnly and totally

-unconscious of a pun. "Look for yourself!"

-

-Miss Smeardon did not need to rise from her seat and fetch Burke: it

-lay always close at hand. She merely lifted it on to her knee and ran

-her finger down the names beginning with B-e-a.

-

-"Beaton, Beare, Beatty, Beale--" she read out, and she shook her head

-in dismal triumph; "but never a Bean! No! we English have no such

-dreadful names, thank Heavens!"

-

-"This is the beginning of April," pursued Mrs. de Tracy, referring to

-a date-card. "Maria Spalding's course at Nauheim will take three

-weeks. We must allow her a week for going and coming. During that time

-Mrs. David Loring can be my guest."

-

-"A whole month!" cried the companion, as though in ecstasy at her

-employer's generosity. "A whole month at Stoke Revel!"

-

-Mrs. de Tracy took no notice. "Write in my name to Maria Spalding,

-please," she commanded. "Be sure that there is no mistake about dates.

-Mention the departure and arrival of trains, and say that Mrs. David

-Loring will find a fly at the station. That is all, I think."

-

-The companion bent officiously forward. "You remember, of course, that

-young Mr. Lavendar comes down next week upon business?"

-

-"Well, what if he does?" asked Mrs. de Tracy shortly.

-

-"Mrs. David Loring is a widow," murmured the companion darkly; "a

-young American widow; and they are said to be so dangerous!"

-

-Mrs. de Tracy drew herself up. "Do you insinuate that the Admiral's

-niece will lay herself out to attract Mr. Lavendar, a widow in the

-house of a widow! You go rather too far, Miss Smeardon, though you are

-speaking of an American. Besides, allusions of this character are

-extremely distasteful to me. I have been told that the minds of

-unmarried women are always running upon love affairs, but I should

-hardly have thought it of you."

-

-"I'm sure I never imagined any about myself!" murmured Miss Smeardon

-with the pitiable writhe of the trodden-on worm.

-

-"I should suppose not," rejoined Mrs. de Tracy gravely, and the

-companion took up her pen obediently to write to Maria Spalding.

-

-"Shall I send your love to the Admiral's niece?" she humbly enquired,

-"or--or something of the kind?" There was irony in the last phrase,

-but it was quite unconscious.

-

-"Not my love," replied Mrs. de Tracy, "some suitable message. Make no

-mistake about the dates, remember."

-

-Thus a letter containing dates, and though not love, the substitute

-described by Miss Smeardon as "something of the kind" for an unwanted

-niece from an unknown aunt, left Stoke Revel by the afternoon post and

-reached Robinette Loring at breakfast next morning.

-

-

-

-

-III

-

-YOUNG MRS. LORING

-

-

-Young Mrs. Loring thought she had never taken so long a drive as that

-from the Weston railway station to Stoke Revel. The way stretched

-through narrow winding roads, always up hill, always between high

-Devonshire hedges. The rain-soaked lanes were slippery and she was

-unpleasantly conscious of the size and weight of the American wardrobe

-trunk that reared its mighty frame in front of her almost to the

-blotting-out of the driver, who steadied it with one hand as he plied

-the whip with the other. It struck her humorously that the trunk was

-larger than most of the cottages they were passing.

-

-It was a late spring that year in England,--Robinette was a new-comer

-and did not know that England runs to late and wet springs, believing

-that they make more conversation than early, fine ones,--and the

-trees were just bursting into leaf. The sun had not shone for three

-days and the landscape, for all its beautiful greenness, looked gloomy

-to an eye accustomed to a good deal of crude sunshine.

-

-As the horse mounted higher and higher Robinette glanced out of the

-windows at the dripping boughs and her face lost something of its

-sparkle of anticipation. She had little to expect in the way of a warm

-welcome, she knew that; or at least her mind knew it, but Robinette's

-heart always expected surprises, although she had lived two and twenty

-summers and was a widow at that.

-

-Her mother had been a de Tracy of Stoke Revel whose connection with

-that ancient family had ceased abruptly when she met an American

-architect while traveling on the Continent, married him out of hand

-and went to his native New England with him. The de Tracys had no

-opinion of America, its government, its institutions, its customs, or

-its people, and when they learned that Cynthia de Tracy had not only

-allied herself with this undesirable nation, but had selected a native

-by the name of Harold Bean, they regarded the incident of the marriage

-as closed.

-

-The union had been a happy one, though the de Tracys of Stoke Revel

-had always regarded the unfortunately named architect more as a

-vegetable than a human being; and the daughter of the marriage was the

-young Mrs. Loring now driving in the station fly to the home of her

-mother's people.

-

-Her father had died when she was fifteen and her mother followed three

-years after, leaving her with a respectable fortune but no relations;

-the entire family (happily, Mrs. de Tracy would have said) having died

-out with Harold. Robinette was unspeakably lonely, even with her

-hundred friends, for there was enough English blood in her to make her

-cry out inwardly for kith and kin, for family ties, for all the dear

-familiar backgrounds of hearth and home. Had a welcoming hand been

-stretched across the sea she would have flown at once to make

-acquaintance with the de Tracys, cold and indifferent as they had

-always been, but no bidding ever came, and the picture of the Manor

-House of Stoke Revel on her dressing-table was the only reminder of

-her connection with that ancient and honourable house.

-

-It is not difficult to see, under the circumstances, how the

-nineteen-year-old Robinette became the wife of the first man in whom

-she inspired a serious passion.

-

-It is incredible that women should confuse the passive process of

-being loved with the active process of loving, but it occurs

-nevertheless, and Robinette drifted into marriage with the vaguest

-possible notions of what it meant; feeling and knowing that she needed

-something, and supposing it must be a husband. It was better fortune,

-perhaps, than she merited, and equally kind for both parties, that her

-husband died before either of them realized the tragic mistake. David

-Loring was too absorbed in his own emotions to note the absence of

-full response on the part of his wife; Robinette was too much a child

-and too inexperienced to be conscious of her own lack of feeling.

-

-It was death, not life, that opened her eyes. When David Loring lay in

-his coffin, Robinette's heart was suddenly seized with growing pains.

-Her vision widened; words and promises took on a new and larger

-meaning, and she became a serious woman for her years, although there

-was an ineradicable gaiety of spirit in her that needed only sunshine

-to make it the dominant note of her nature.

-

-At the moment, Robinette, in the station fly on her way to Stoke

-Revel, was only in the making, although she herself considered her

-life as practically finished. The past and the present were moulding

-her into something that only the future could determine. Sometimes

-April, sometimes July, sometimes witch, sometimes woman; impetuous,

-intrepid, romantic, tempestuous, illogical,--these were but the

-elements of which the coming years of experience had yet to shape a

-character. Young Mrs. Loring had plenty of briars, but she had good

-roots and in favorable soil would be certain to bear roses.

-

-But in the immediate present, the fly with the immense American

-wardrobe trunk beside the driver, turned into the avenue of Stoke

-Revel, and Mrs. David Loring bestowed upon herself those little

-feminine attentions which precede arrival--pattings of the hair behind

-the ears, twitches of the veil, and pullings down about the waist and

-sleeves. A little toy of a purse made of golden chainwork, hanging

-from her wrist, was searched for the driver's fare, and it had hardly

-snapped to again when the fly drew up before the entrance to the

-house. How interesting it looked! Robinette put her head out of the

-carriage window and gazed up at the long row of windows, the old

-weather-coloured stones, and the carved front of the building. Here

-was a house where things might happen, she thought, and her young

-heart gave a sudden bound of anticipation.

-

-But the door was shut, alas! and a blank feeling came over Robinette

-as she looked at it. Some one perhaps would come out and welcome

-her, she thought for a brief moment, but only the butler appeared,

-who, with the formal announcement of her name, ushered her into a

-long, low room with a row of windows on one side and a pleasant

-old-fashioned look of comfort and habitation. She caught a glimpse

-of a tea-table with a steaming urn upon it, heard the furious barking

-of a little dog, saw that there were two figures in the room and

-moved instinctively towards the one beside the window, the figure in

-weeds, neither very tall nor very imposing, yet somehow formidable.

-

-"How do you do?" said an icy voice, and a chill hand held hers for a

-moment, but did not press it. The colour in Robinette's cheeks paled

-and then rushed back, as she drew herself up unconsciously.

-

-"I am very well, thank you, Aunt de Tracy," she answered with

-commendable composure.

-

-"This is my friend and companion, Miss Smeardon," continued Mrs. de

-Tracy, advancing to the tea-table where that useful personage

-officiated. "Mrs. David Loring--Miss Smeardon." Miss Smeardon had the

-dog upon her lap, yapping, clashing his teeth together, and obviously

-thirsting for the visitor's blood. He was quieted with soothing words,

-and Robinette seated herself innocently in the nearest chair, beside

-the table.

-

-"Excuse me!" the companion said with a slight cough; "Mrs. de Tracy's

-chair! Do you mind taking another?" There was something disagreeable

-in her voice, and in Mrs. de Tracy's deliberate scrutiny something so

-nearly insulting that a childish impulse to cry then and there

-suddenly seized upon Robinette. This was her mother's home--and no

-kiss had welcomed her to it, no kind word! There were perfunctory

-questions about her journey, references to the coldness and lateness

-of the spring, enquiries after the health of Maria Spalding (whose

-mother was a Gallup), but no claiming of kinship, no naming of her

-mother's name nor of her native country! Robinette's ardent spirit had

-felt sorrow, but it had never met rebuff nor known injustice, and the

-sudden stir of revolt at her heart was painful with an almost physical

-pain.

-

-After a long drawn hour of this social torture, Mrs. de Tracy rang,

-and a hard-featured elderly maid appeared.

-

-"Show Mrs. Loring to her room, Benson," said the mistress of the

-house, "and help her to unpack."

-

-Robinette followed her conductor upstairs with a sinking heart. Oh!

-but the chill of this English spring was in her bones, and the

-coldness of a reception so frigid that her passionate young spirit

-almost rebelled on the spot, prompting wild ideas and impulsive

-impossibilities; even a flight to her mother's old nurse--to Lizzie

-Prettyman, so often lovingly described, with her little thatched

-cottage beyond the river! Surely she would find the welcome there that

-was lacking here, and the touch of human kindness that one craved in a

-foreign land. But no! Robinette called to her aid her strong American

-common sense and the "grit" that her countrymen admire. Was she to

-confess herself routed in the very first onset--the very first attempt

-in storming the ancestral stronghold? With a characteristically quick

-return of hope, the Admiral's niece exclaimed, "Certainly not!"

-

-

-

-

-IV

-

-A CHILLY RECEPTION

-

-

-Mrs. Benson approached the wardrobe trunk with the air of a person who

-has taken an immediate and violent dislike to an object.

-

-"We have all looked at your box, ma'am, but I am sorry to say we are

-not sure that it is set up properly. It is very different from any we

-have ever seen at the Manor, and the men had some difficulty in

-getting it up to the room. I fancy it is upside down, is it not? No?

-We rather thought it was. I would call the boot-and-knife boy to

-unlock it, but he jammed his hand in attempting to force the catches,

-and I thought you would be kind enough to instruct me how to open it,

-perhaps?"

-

-"I am quite able to do it myself," said Robinette, keeping down a

-hysterical laugh. "See how easily it goes when you know the secret!"

-and she deftly turned her key in two locks one after the other, let

-down the mysterious facade of the affair, and pulled out an

-extraordinary rack on which hung so many dresses and wraps that Mrs.

-Benson lost her breath in surprise.

-

-"Would you like me to carry some of your things into another room,

-ma'am?" she asked. "They will never go in the wardrobe; it is only a

-plain English wardrobe, ma'am. We have never had any American

-guests."

-

-"The things needn't be moved," said Robinette, "many of them will be

-quite convenient where they are;--and now you need not trouble about

-me; I am well used to helping myself, if you will be kind enough to

-come in just before dinner for a moment."

-

-Mrs. Benson disappeared below stairs, where she regaled the injured

-boot-and-knife boy and the female servants with the first instalment

-of what was destined to be the most dramatic and sensational serial

-story ever told at the Manor House.

-

-"The lid of the box don't lift up," she explained, "like all the box

-lids as ever I saw, and me with Lady Chitterton for six years,

-traveling constantly. The front of the thing splits in the middle and

-the bottom half falls on the floor. A heathenish kind of tray lifts

-off from its hinges like a door, and a clothes rack pulls out on

-runners. 'T is a sight to curdle your blood; and the number of dresses

-she's brought would make her out to be richer than Crusoe!--though I

-have heard from a cousin of mine who was in service in America that

-the ladies over there spend every penny they can rake and scrape on

-their clothes. Their husbands may work their fingers to the bone, and

-their parents be in the workhouse, but fine frocks they will have!"

-

-"Rather!" said the boot-and-knife boy, nursing his injured thumb.

-

-On the departure of Mrs. Benson from her room, Robinette gave a

-stifled shriek in which laughter and tears were equally mingled. Then

-she flew like a lapwing to the fire-place and lifted off a fan of

-white paper from the grate.

-

-"No possibility of help there!" she exclaimed. "Cold within, cold

-without! How shall I unpack? How shall I dress? How shall I live

-without a fire? Ah! here is the coal box! Empty! Empty, and it is only

-the month of April! 'Oh! to be in England now that April's there!' How

-could Browning write that line without his teeth chattering! How well

-I understand the desire of the British to keep India and South Africa!

-They must have some place to go where they can get warm! Now for

-unpacking, or any sort of manual labour which will put my frozen blood

-in circulation!"

-

-Slapping her hands, beating her breast, stamping her feet, Mrs. Loring

-removed a few dresses from the offending trunk to the mahogany

-wardrobe, and disposed her effects neatly in the drawers of bureau and

-highboy.

-

-"I have made a mistake at the very beginning," she thought. "I

-supposed nothing could be too pretty for the Manor House and now I am

-afraid my worst is too fine. The Manor House of Stoke Revel! Wouldn't

-that appeal to anyone's imagination? Now what for to-night? White

-satin with crystal? Back you go into the trunk! Back goes the

-silver grey chiffon! I'll have it re-hung over flannel! Avaunt!

-heliotrope velvet with amethyst spangles, made with a view to

-ensnaring the High Church clergy! I wish I had a princess dress of

-moleskin with a court train of squirrel hanging from the shoulders!

-Here is the thing; my black Liberty satin two years old. I will

-cover part of my exposed neck and shoulders with a fichu of lace; my

-black silk openwork stockings will be drawn on over a pair of

-balbriggans, and the number of petticoats I shall don would discourage

-a Scotch fishwife! To-morrow I'll write Mrs. Spalding's maid to buy

-me two hot-water bottles, mittens, a box of quinine tablets and a

-Shetland shawl.... What are these--_fans?_ Retire into the depths of

-that tray and never look me in the face again!... _Parasols?_ I

-wonder at your impertinence in coming here! I shall give you cod

-liver oil and make you grow into umbrellas!"

-

-Presently the dinner gong growled through the house, and Robinette,

-still shivering, flung across her shoulders a shimmering scarf of

-white and silver. It fell over her simple black dress in just the

-right way, adding a last touch to the somewhat exotic grace which made

-her a stranger in her mother's home. Then she fled down the darkening

-passages, instinctively aware that unpunctuality was a crime in this

-house. Yet in spite of her haste, she paused before the window of an

-upper lobby, arrested by the scene it framed. Heavy rain still fell,

-and the light, made greenish by the nearness of great trees just

-coming into leaf, was cheerless and singularly cold. But that could

-not mar the majesty of the outlook which made the Manor of Stoke

-Revel, on its height, unique. Far below the house, the broad river

-slipped towards the sea, between woods that rose tier upon tier above

-and beyond--woods of beech and of oak, not yet green, but purplish

-under the rainy mist. On the bank, woods too, and here, where the

-river, in excess of strength, swirled into a creek--a shining

-sand-bank where fishing nets were hung. Then the low, strong tower of

-a church, with the sombreness of cypress beside it, and the thatched

-roofs of cottages.

-

-Something stirred in the heart of Robinette as she looked, that part

-of her blood which her English mother had given her. This scene, so

-indescribably English as hardly to be imaginable in another land, had

-been painted for her again and again by her mother with all the

-retrospective romance of an exile's touch. She knew it, but she did

-not know if she could ever love it, beautiful though it was and

-noble.

-

-But she banished these misgivings and ran down the twisted stairway

-so fast that she was almost panting when she reached the drawing-room

-door.

-

-"I will take your arm, please," said the hostess coldly, while Miss

-Smeardon wore the virtuous and injured air of one who has been kept

-waiting. Mrs. de Tracy laid, on the warm and smooth arm of her guest,

-one of her small, dry hands, sparkling with rings, and the procession

-closed with the companion and the lap-dog.

-

-In the dining room, the shutters were closed, and the candles, in

-branching candlesticks of silver, only partially lit a room long and

-low like the other. The walls were darkened with pictures, and

-Robinette's bright eyes searched them eagerly.

-

-"The Sir Joshua is not here!" she thought. "And it was not in the

-drawing room. Has Aunt de Tracy given, or hidden it away--my very own

-name-picture?"

-

-With all her determination, Robinette somehow could not summon courage

-enough to ask where this picture was. Such a question would involve

-the mention of her mother's name, and from that she shrank. Young Mrs.

-Loring had never before found herself in a society where conversation

-was apparently regarded as a crime, and to fit herself to her

-environment, under the scrutiny of Mrs. de Tracy and the decidedly

-inimical looks of the companion, took all her time. A burden of

-self-consciousness lay upon her such as her light and elastic spirit

-had never known. She found herself morbidly observant of minute

-details; the pattern of the tablecloth; the crest upon the spoons; the

-curious red knobs upon Miss Smeardon's fingers, and the odd mincing

-way she held her fork; the almost athletic efforts of the butler when

-he raised an enormous silver dish-cover, and the curiously frugal and

-unappetizing nature of the viand it disclosed. The wizened face of the

-lap-dog, too, peering over the table's edge, out of Miss Smeardon's

-lap, might have acquired its distrustful expression, Robinette

-thought, from habitual doubts as to whether enough to eat would ever

-be his good fortune. The meal ended with the ceremonious presentation

-to each lady in turn, of three wrinkled apples and two crooked bananas

-in a probably priceless dish of Crown Derby. Then the procession

-re-formed and returned to the drawing room.

-

-"And the evening and the morning were the first day!" sighed Robinette

-to herself in the chilly solitude of her own room. How often could she

-endure the repetition?

-

-

-

-

-V

-

-AT WITTISHAM

-

-

-"May I have a fire to dress by, Benson?" Robinette asked rather

-timidly that night, her head just peeping above the blankets.

-

-"_Fire_?" returned Benson, in italics, with an interrogation point.

-

-Robinette longed to spell the word and ask Benson if it had ever come

-to her notice before, but she stifled her desire and said, "I am quite

-ashamed, Benson, but you see I am not used to the climate yet. If

-you'll pamper me just a little at the beginning, I shall behave better

-presently."

-

-"I will give orders for a fire night and morning, certainly, ma'am,"

-said Benson. "I did not offer it because our ladies never have one in

-their bedrooms at this time of the year. Mrs. de Tracy is very strong

-and active for her age."

-

-"It's my opinion she's a w'eedler," remarked Benson at the housekeeper's

-luncheon table. "She asks for what she wants like a child. She has a

-pretty way with her, I can't deny that, but is she a w'eedler?"

-

-Wheedler or not, Robinette got her fire to dress by, and so was able

-to come down in the morning feeling tolerably warm. It was well that

-she was, for the cold tea and tough toast of the de Tracy breakfast

-had little in them to warm the heart. Conversation languished during

-the meal, and after a walk to the stables Robinette was thankful to

-return to her own room again on the pretext of writing letters. There

-she piled up the fire, drew her chair close up to the hearth, and

-employed herself until noon, when she took her embroidery and joined

-her aunt in the drawing room. Luncheon was announced at half past one,

-and immediately after it Mrs. de Tracy and Miss Smeardon went to their

-respective bedrooms for rest.

-

-"Are there indeed only twelve hours in the day?" Robinette asked

-herself desperately as she heard the great, solemn-toned hall clock

-strike two. It seemed quite impossible that it could be only two; the

-whole afternoon had still to be accounted for, and how? Well, she

-might look over her clothes again, re-arranging them in all their

-dainty variety in the wardrobe and drawers; she might put tissue paper

-into the sleeves of each bodice, smoothing out every crease; she might

-even find that some tiny repairs were needed! There were three new

-hats, and several pairs of new gloves to be tried on; her accounts

-must be made up, her cheque book balanced; yet all these things would

-take but a short time. Then the hall clock struck three.

-

-"I must go out," she thought.

-

-Coming through the hall from her room Robinette met her aunt and Miss

-Smeardon descending the staircase.

-

-"We are driving this afternoon," said Mrs. de Tracy, "would you not

-like to come with us?"

-

-The thought turned Robinette to stone: she had visited the stables,

-and seen the coachman lead what seemed to her a palsied horse out into

-the yard. Her sympathetic allusion to the supposed condition of the

-steed had not been well received, for the man had given her to

-understand that this was the one horse of the establishment, but

-Robinette had vowed never to sit behind it.

-

-"I think I'd rather walk, Aunt de Tracy," she said, "I'd like to go

-and see my mother's old nurse, Mrs. Prettyman. Can I do any errands

-for you?"

-

-"None, thank you. To go to Wittisham you have to cross the ferry,

-remember."

-

-"Oh! that must be simple! you may be sure I shall not lose myself!"

-said Robinette.

-

-Both the older women looked curiously at her for a moment; then Mrs.

-de Tracy said:--

-

-"You will kindly not use the public ferry; the footman will row you

-across to Wittisham at any hour you may mention to him."

-

-"Oh, but Aunt de Tracy, I'd really prefer the public ferry."

-

-"Nonsense, impossible; the footman shall row you," said Mrs. de Tracy

-with finality.

-

-Robinette said nothing; she hated the idea of the footman, but it

-seemed inevitable. "Am I never to get away from their dullnesses?" she

-thought. "A public ferry sounds quite lively in place of being rowed

-by William!"

-

-When the shore was reached, however, Robinette discovered that the

-passage across the river in a leaky little boat, rowed by a painfully

-inexperienced servant, was almost too much for her. To see him

-fumbling with the oars, made her tingle to take them herself; she

-could not abide the irritation of a return journey with such a

-boatman. This determination was hastened when she saw that instead of

-the three-decker steamer of her native land, the ferry at Wittisham

-was just like an ordinary row-boat; that one rang a bell hanging from

-a picturesque tower; that a nice young man with a sprig of wallflower

-in his cap rowed one across, and that each passenger handed out a

-penny to him on the farther side.

-

-"How enchantingly quaint!" she cried. "William, you can go home; I

-shall return by the public ferry."

-

-William looked surprised but only replied, "Very good, ma'am."

-

-On warm summer afternoons the tiny square of Mrs. Prettyman's garden

-made as delightful a place to sit in as one could wish. There was

-sunshine on the turf, and a thin shade was cast by the drooping boughs

-of the plum tree; just enough to shelter old eyes from the glare. When

-she was very tired with doing her work Mrs. Prettyman would totter out

-into the garden. She was getting terribly lame now, yet afraid to

-acknowledge it, knowing, with the desperate wisdom of poverty, that

-once to give in, very often ended in giving up altogether. So her

-lameness was 'blamed on the weather,' 'blamed on scrubbing the

-floor,' blamed on anything rather than the tragic, incurable fact of

-old age. This afternoon her rheumatism had been specially bad: she had

-an inclination to cry out when she rose from her chair, and every step

-was an effort. Yet the sunshine was tempting; it warmed old and aching

-bones through and through as no fire could do; and Mrs. Prettyman

-thought she must make the effort to go out.

-

-She had just arrived at this conclusion, when a tap came to the door.

-

-"That you, Mrs. Darke?" she called out in her piping old voice. "Come

-in, me dear, I'm that stiff with me rheumatics to-day I can't scarce

-rise out of me chair."

-

-"It's not Mrs. Darke," said Robinette, stooping to enter through the

-tiny doorway. "It's a stranger, Mrs. Prettyman, come all the way from

-America to see you."

-

-"Lor' now, Miss, whoever may you be?" the old woman cried, making as

-if she would rise from her chair. But Robinette caught her arm and

-made her sit still.

-

-"Don't get up; please sit right there where you are, and I'll take

-this chair beside you. Now, Mrs. Prettyman, look at me hard, and tell

-me if you know who I am."

-

-The old woman gazed into Robinette's face, and then a light seemed to

-break over her.

-

-"It's Miss Cynthia's daughter you are!" she cried. "My Miss Cynthia as

-went and married in America!"

-

-She caught Robinette's white ringed hands in hers, and Robinette bent

-down and kissed the wrinkled old face.

-

-"I know that mother loved you, Nurse," she said. "She used often,

-often to tell me about you."

-

-After the fashion of old people, Mrs. Prettyman was too much moved to

-speak. Her face worked all over, and then slow tears began to run down

-her furrowed cheeks. She got up from her chair and walked across the

-uneven floor, leaning on a stick.

-

-"I've something here, Miss, I've something here; something I never

-parts with," she said. A tall chest of drawers stood against the wall,

-and the old woman began to search among its contents as she spoke. At

-last she found a little kid shoe, laid away in a handkerchief.

-

-"See here, Miss! here's my Miss Cynthia's shoe! 'T was tied on to my

-wedding coach the day I got married and left her. My 'usband 'e

-laughed at me cruel because I'd have that shoe with me; but I've kept

-it ever since."

-

-Robinette came and stood beside her, and they both wept together over

-the silly little shoe.

-

-"I want to talk a great deal to you, Nurse; I want to tell you all

-about mother and father, and how they died," said Robinette through

-her tears. How strange that she should have to come to this cottage

-and to this poor old woman before she found anyone to whom she could

-speak of her beloved dead! Her heart was so full that she could

-scarcely speak. A crowd of memories rushed into her mind; last scenes

-and parting words; those innumerable unforgettable details that are

-printed once for all upon the heart that loves and feels.

-

-"I'd like to tell you about it out of doors, Nurse dear," she said

-tearfully; "can you come out under the plum tree in your garden? It's

-lovely there."

-

-"Yes, dearie, yes, we'll come out under the plum tree, we will,"

-echoed Mrs. Prettyman.

-

-"See, Nursie, take my arm, I'll help you out into the warm sunshine,"

-Robinette said.

-

-They progressed very slowly, the old woman leaning with all her weight

-upon the arm of her strong young helper. Then under the flickering

-shade of the tree they sat down together for their talk.

-

-So much to tell, so much to hear, the afternoon slipped away unknown

-to them, and still they were sitting there hand in hand talking and

-listening; sometimes crying a little, sometimes laughing; a queerly

-assorted couple, these new-made friends.

-

-But when all the recollections had been talked over and wept over,

-when Mrs. Prettyman had told Robinette, with the extraordinary detail

-that old people can put into their memories of long ago, all that she

-remembered of Cynthia de Tracy's childhood, then Robinette began to

-question the old woman about her own life. Was she comfortable? Was

-she tolerably well off? Or had she difficulty in making ends meet?

-

-To these questions Mrs. Prettyman made valiant answers: she had a fine

-spirit, and no wish to let a stranger see the skeleton in the

-cupboard. But Robinette's quick instinct pierced through the veil of

-well-meant bravery and touched the truth.

-

-"Nurse dear," she said, "you say you're comfortable, and well off, but

-you won't mind my telling you that I just don't quite believe you."

-

-"Oh, my dear heart, what's that you be sayin'? callin' of me a liar?"

-chuckled the old woman fondly.

-

-Robinette rose from her seat on the bench and stood back to

-scrutinize the cottage. It was exquisitely picturesque, but this

-very picturesqueness constituted its danger; for the place was a

-perfect death trap. The crumbling cob-walls that had taken on those

-wonderful patches of green colour, soaked in the damp like a sponge:

-the irregularity of the thatched roof that looked so well, admitted

-trickles of rain on wet nights; and the uneven mud floor of the

-kitchen revealed the fact that the cottage had been built without any

-proper foundation. The door did not fit, and in cold weather a

-knife-like draught must run in under it. All this Robinette's

-quick, practical glance took in; she gave a little nod or two,

-murmuring to herself, "A new thatch roof, a new door, a new cement

-floor." Then she came and sat down again.

-

-"Tell me now, how much do you have to live on every week, Nurse?" she

-asked.

-

-"Oh, Miss Robinette--ma'am, I should say--'t is wonderful how I gets

-on; and then there's the plum tree--just see the flourish on it,

-Missie dear! 'T will have a crop o' plums come autumn will about drag

-down the boughs! I don't know how 't would be with me without I had

-the plum tree."

-

-"Do you really make something by it?" Robinette asked.

-

-The old woman chuckled again. "To be sure I makes; makes jam every

-autumn; a sight o' jam. Come inside again, me dear, an' see me jam

-cupboard and you'll know."

-

-She hobbled into the kitchen, and opened the door of a wall press in

-the corner. There, row above row stood a solid phalanx of jam pots; it

-seemed as if a whole town might be supplied out of Mrs. Prettyman's

-cupboard.

-

-"'T is well thought of, me jam," the old woman said, grinning with

-pleasure. "I be very careful in the preparing of 'en; gets a penny the

-pound more for me jam than others, along of its being so fine."

-

-Robinette was charmed to see that here Mrs. Prettyman had a reliable

-source of income, however slender.

-

-"How much do you reckon to get from it every year?" she asked.

-

-"Going five pounds, dear: four pounds fifteen shillings and sixpence,

-last autumn; and please the Lord there's a better crop this season, so

-'t will be the clear five pounds. Oh! I do be loving me plum tree like

-a friend, I do."

-

-They turned back into the sunshine again, that Robinette should admire

-this wonderful tree-friend once more. She stood under its shadow with

-great delight, as the Bible says, gazing up through the intricate

-network of boughs and blossom to the cloudless blue above her.

-

-"It's heavenly, Nurse, just heavenly!" she sighed as she came and sat

-down beside the old woman again.

-

-"Then there's me duck too, Missie! Lard, now I don't know how I'd be

-without I had me duck. Duckie I calls 'er and Duckie she is; company

-she is, too, to me mornin's, with her 'Quack, Quack,' under the

-winder."

-

-So the old woman prattled on, giving Robinette all the history of her

-life, with its tiny joys and many struggles, till it seemed to the

-listener that she had always known Mrs. Prettyman, the plum tree, and

-her duck--known them and loved them, all three.

-

-

-

-

-VI

-

-MARK LAVENDAR

-

-

-Hundreds of years ago the street of Stoke Revel village, if street it

-could be called, and the tower of the ancient church, must have looked

-very much the same as now.

-

-On such a day, when the oak woods were budding, and the English birds

-singing, and the spring sun was hot in a clear sky, a knight riding

-down the steep lane would have taken the same turn to the left on his

-way to the Manor. Were he a young man, he would probably have reined

-up his horse for a moment, and looked, as Mark Lavendar did now, at

-the blithe landscape before him. Only then the accessories would have

-been so different: the great horse, somewhat tired by long hours of

-riding, the armour that glinted in the sun, the casque pushed up to

-let the fresh air play upon the rider's face; such a figure must have

-often stood just at that turn where the lane wound up the little hill.

-The landscape was the same, and young men in all ages are very much

-the same, so--although this one had merely arrived by train, and

-walked from the nearest station--Mark Lavendar stopped and leaned over

-the low wall when he came to the turn of the road, and looked down at

-the river.

-

-He boasted no war horse nor armour; none of the trappings of the older

-world added to his distinction, and yet he was a very pleasing figure

-of a man.

-

-The gaunt brown face was quite hard and solemn in expression; ugly,

-but not commonplace, for as a friend once said of him, "His eyes seem

-to belong to another person." It was not this, but only that the eyes,

-blue as Saint Veronica's flower, showed suddenly a different aspect of

-the man, an unexpected tenderness that flatly contradicted the hard

-features of his face. He looked very nice when he laughed too, so

-that most people when they had found out the trick, tried to make him

-laugh as often as possible.

-

-"What a day! Heavens! what a lovely day," he said to himself as he

-leaned on the low wall. "I want to be courting Amaryllis somewhere in

-these woods, and instead I've got to go and talk business with that

-old woman;" and he looked ruefully towards the Manor House; for this

-was not his first visit by any means, and he knew only too well the

-hours of boredom that awaited him. Mrs. de Tracy, strange to say, had

-a soft side towards this young man, the son of her family solicitor.

-Mark was invariably sent down by his father when there was any

-business to be transacted at Stoke Revel. The older man was fond of a

-good dinner, and hated circumlocution about affairs, and it was only

-when a death in the family, or some other crucial event, made his

-presence absolutely necessary that he came down himself. Mark was

-sacrificed instead, and many a wearisome hour had he spent in that

-house. However on this occasion he had been glad enough to get out of

-London for a while; the country was divine, and even the de Tracy

-business did not occupy the whole day. There would be hours on the

-river; afternoons spent riding along those green lanes through which

-he had just passed, where the banks were starred with little vivid

-flowers. Mark had an almost childish delight in such beauty. He had

-loitered on the way along, flung himself down on a bank for a few

-minutes, and burying his face amongst the flowers, listened with a

-smile upon his mouth to the birds that chirruped in the branches of

-the oak above him.

-

-Now he leaned on the low wall, and gazed at the shining reaches of the

-river. "What a day!" he said to himself again. "What a divine

-afternoon"; then he added quite simply, "I wish I were in love;

-everyone under eighty ought to be, on such a day!"

-

-Even at the age of thirty most men of any personal attractions have

-some romantic memories. Lavendar had his share, but somehow that

-morning he was disconcertingly candid to himself. It may have been the

-sudden change from London air and London noise; something in the clear

-transparency of the April day, in the flute-like melody of the birds'

-song, in the dream-like beauty of the scene before him, that made all

-the moth and rust that had consumed the remembrances of the past more

-apparent. There was little of the treasure of heaven there,--it had

-mostly been nonsense or vanity or worse. He wanted, oh, how he wanted,

-to be able just for once to surrender himself to what was absolutely

-ideal; to have a memory when he was an old man, of something that had

-no fault in it.

-

-"No, I've never been really in love," he said to himself, "I may as

-well confess it; and I daresay I never shall be, but marry on an

-impulse like most men, make the best of it afterwards, and have a

-sort of middle-class happiness in the end of the day."

-

-"One, Two, Three," said the church clock from the ancient tower,

-booming out the note, and Lavendar started, and rubbed his hands

-across his dazzled eyes. "Luncheon is a late meal in that awful house,

-if I remember," he said, "but it must be over by this time. I really

-must go in. Let me collect my thoughts; the business is 'just things

-in general,' but especially the sale of some cottage or other and the

-land it stands on. Yes, yes, I remember; the papers are all right. Now

-for the old ladies."

-

-He made his entrance into the Manor drawing room a few minutes later

-with a charming smile.

-

-Mrs. de Tracy actually walked a few steps to meet him, with a greeting

-less frigid than usual.

-

-"I'm glad to see you, Mark," said she. "Bates said you preferred to

-walk from the station."

-

-Mark turned his kind eyes on Miss Smeardon, and held her knuckly hand

-in his own almost tenderly. It was a very bad habit, which had led to

-some mischief in the past, that when he was sorry for a thing he

-wanted to be very kind to it; and this made him unusually pleasing,

-and dangerous!

-

-"Business first and pleasure afterwards; excellent maxim!" he said to

-himself half an hour later, as he removed the dust of travel from his

-person, preparatory to an interview with Mrs. de Tracy. "Now for it!"

-

-He liked the drawing room at Stoke Revel and always wished it had

-other occupants when he entered it. This afternoon it seemed

-particularly agreeable, the open windows letting in the slanting

-sunshine and a strong scent of jonquils and sweet briar.

-

-"Well, Mrs. de Tracy," said Mark, "I am my father's spokesman, you

-know, and we have serious business to discuss. But tell me first,

-how's my young friend Carnaby?"

-

-"Thank you; my grandson has a severe attack of quinsy," replied Mrs.

-de Tracy. "He is to have sick-leave whenever the Endymion returns to

-Portsmouth."

-

-"Oh! Carnaby will make short work of an attack of quinsy," said

-Lavendar, genially.

-

-"It would please me better," retorted Mrs. de Tracy severely, "if my

-grandson showed signs of mental improvement as well as bodily health.

-His letters are ill-spelled, ill-written, and ill-expressed. They are

-the letters of a school-boy."

-

-"He is not much more than a school-boy, is he?" suggested Mark, "only

-fifteen! The mental improvement will come; too soon, for my taste. I

-like Carnaby as he is!"

-

-The young man had seated himself beside his hostess in an attitude of

-perfect ease. Though bored by his present environment, he was entirely

-at home in it. Just because he greatly dared towards her and was never

-afraid, Mrs. de Tracy liked him. With the mere flicker of an eyelid,

-she dismissed the attendant Smeardon.

-

-"There has been an offer for the land at Wittisham," Lavendar said,

-when they were alone.

-

-Mrs. de Tracy winced. "That is no matter of congratulation with me,"

-she said bleakly.

-

-"But it is with us, for it is a most excellent one!" returned the

-young man hardily. "The firm has had the responsibility of advising

-the sale, which we consider absolutely unavoidable in the present

-financial condition of Stoke Revel. We have advertised for a year, and

-advertisement is costly. Now comes an offer of a somewhat peculiar

-kind, but sound enough." Lavendar here produced a bundle of documents

-tied with the traditional red tape. "An artist," he continued,

-"Waller, R. A.--you know the name?"

-

-"I do not," interpolated Mrs. de Tracy grimly.

-

-"Nevertheless, a well known painter," persisted Mark, "and one, as it

-happens, of the orchard scenery of this part of England. He has known

-Wittisham for a long time, and only last year he made a success with

-the painting of a plum tree which grows in front of one of the

-cottages. It was sold for a large sum, and, as a matter of sentiment,

-I suppose, Waller wishes to buy the cottage and make it into a summer

-retreat or studio for himself."

-

-"He cannot buy it," said Mrs. de Tracy with the snort of a war horse.

-

-"He cannot buy it apart from the land," insinuated Mark, "but he is

-flush of cash and ready to buy the land too--very nearly as much as we

-want to sell, and the bargain merely waits your consent. The sum that

-has been agreed upon is of the kind that a man in the height of his

-triumph offers for a fancy article. No such sum will ever be offered

-for land at Wittisham again; old orchard land, falling into desuetude

-as it is and covered with condemned cottages."

-

-Mrs. de Tracy was sternly silent, and Mark awaited her next words with

-some curiosity. He felt like a torturer drawing the tooth of a Jew in

-the good old days. This sale of land was a bitter pill to the widow,

-as it well might be, for it was the beginning of the end, as the de

-Tracy solicitors could have told you. There had been de Tracys of

-Stoke Revel since Queen Elizabeth's time, but there would not be de

-Tracys of Stoke Revel much longer,--unless young Carnaby married an

-heiress when he came of age--and that no de Tracy had ever done.

-

-"The land across the river," Mrs. de Tracy said at last, "was the

-first land the de Tracys held, but much of it went at the Restoration.

-Well, let this go too!" she added harshly.

-

-Mark blessed himself that indecision was no part of the lady's

-character and sighed with relief. "My father would like to know," he

-said, "what you propose to do with regard to the old woman who is the

-present tenant of the cottage."

-

-"Elizabeth Prettyman is not a tenant," said Mrs. de Tracy coldly.

-"She is practically a pensioner, since she lives rent-free."

-

-"True, I forgot," said Mark soothingly. "I beg your pardon."

-

-"Do not suppose that it is by my wish," continued Mrs. de Tracy

-coldly. "I have never approved of supporting the peasantry in

-idleness. This woman happened to be for some years nurse to Cynthia de

-Tracy, my husband's younger sister, who deeply offended her family by

-marrying an American named Bean. I see no claim in that to a pension

-of any kind."

-

-"But your husband saw it, I imagine," interpolated Mark quietly, and

-Mrs. de Tracy gave him a fierce look, which he met, however, without a

-sign of flinching.

-

-"My husband had a mistaken idea that Prettyman was poor when she

-became a widow," said Mrs. de Tracy. "On the contrary she had

-relations quite well able to support her, I believe. I never cross the

-river, in these days, and the matter has escaped my memory, so that

-things have been left as they were."

-

-"No great loss," said Mark candidly, "since the cottage in its present

-state is utterly unfit for any tenant. As to Prettyman, is it your

-intention to give her notice to quit?"

-

-"Unquestionably, since the cottage is needed," answered Mrs. de Tracy.

-"She has occupied it too long as it is." The speaker's lips closed

-like a vice over the words.

-

-"God pity Elizabeth Prettyman!" ejaculated Lavendar to himself. "Might

-is Right still, apparently, at Stoke Revel!" Aloud he merely said, "A

-weak deference to public opinion was never a foible of yours, Mrs. de

-Tracy; but I think I would advise you to consider some question of

-compensation to Mrs. Prettyman for the loss of the cottage."

-

-"If you can show me that the woman has any legal claim upon the

-estate, I will consider the question, but not otherwise," said Mrs. de

-Tracy with such an air of finality that Lavendar was inclined to let

-the matter drop for the moment.

-

-"The firm," he said, "will communicate your wishes to Mrs. Prettyman

-by letter."

-

-"Prettyman cannot read," snapped Mrs. de Tracy. "She must be told, and

-the sooner the better."

-

-"Well, Mrs. de Tracy," said the young man with a short laugh,

-"provided it is not I who have to tell her, well and good. I warn you

-the task would not be to my taste unless compensation were offered

-her."

-

-Mrs. de Tracy's features hardened to a degree unusual even to her.

-

-"I am apparently less tender-hearted than you," she said sardonically.

-"I shall, if I think fit, deal with Prettyman in person." The subject

-was dropped, and Lavendar rose to leave the room, but Mrs. de Tracy

-detained him.

-

-"The Admiral's niece, Mrs. David Loring, is my guest at present," she

-said. "It happens that she has crossed the river to Wittisham and is

-paying a visit to Prettyman. I should be obliged, Mark, if you would

-row across and fetch her back, as by some misunderstanding, my servant

-has not waited for her. You are an oarsman, I know."

-

-The young man consented with alacrity. "I shall kill two birds with

-one stone," he said cheerfully, "I shall visit the famous plum tree

-cottage and see Mrs. Prettyman for myself; and I shall have the

-privilege of executing your commission as Mrs. Loring's escort. It

-sounds a very agreeable one!"

-

-"You have no time to lose," said Mrs. de Tracy with a glance at the

-clock.

-

-

-

-

-VII

-

-A CROSS-EXAMINATION

-

-

-Lavendar escaped from the house, where, even in the smoke-room, it

-seemed unregenerate to light a cigar, and took the path to the shore.

-

-"I wonder if one woman staying in a house full of men would find life

-as depressing as I do cooped up here under precisely opposite

-circumstances," he thought, as he made his way through the little

-churchyard. "It cannot be the atmosphere of femininity that bores me,

-however, for Mrs. de Tracy has a strongly masculine flavour and Miss

-Smeardon is as nearly neuter as a person can be."

-

-He took a couple of oars from the boat-house as he passed, and going

-to the little landing stage untied the boat and started for the

-farther shore.

-

-It was good to feel the water parting under his vigorous strokes and

-delightful to exert his strength after the hours of stifled irritation

-at the Manor. It was a bright, calm close of day, when in the rarefied

-evening air each sound began to acquire the sharpness that marks the

-hour. He could hear the rush of the waters behind the boat and the

-voices of the fishers farther up the stream. As he drew up to the bank

-and took in his oars the stillness was so great that you could have

-heard a pin fall, when suddenly from a tree above him a bird broke

-into one little finished song and then was still, as if it had uttered

-all it wished to say.

-

-"What a heavenly evening!" thought Lavendar, "and what a lovely spot!

-That must be the cottage just above me. Mrs. de Tracy said I should

-know it by the plum tree. Ah, there it is!" Tying up the boat he

-sprang up the steps and walked along the flagged path. The plum tree

-these last few days had begun to look its fairest. The blossoms did

-not yet conceal the leaves, but it was a very bower of beauty already.

-There was a little table spread for tea under its branches, and an old

-woman like thousands of old women in thousands of cottages all over

-England, was sitting behind it, precisely as if she had been a

-coloured illustration in a summer number of an English weekly. She was

-on the typical bench in the typical attitude, but instead of the

-typical old man in a clean smock frock who should have occupied the

-end of the bench, there sat beside her a distinctly lovely young

-woman. What struck Lavendar was the wealth of colour she brought into

-the picture: goldy brown hair, brown tweed dress, with a cape of blue

-cloth slipping off her shoulders, and a brown toque with a pert

-upstanding quill that seemed to express spirit and pluck, and a merry

-heart. His quick glance took in the little hands that held the

-withered old ones. Both heads were bowed and in the brown tweed lap

-was a child's shoe,--a wee, worn, fat shoe. Beside it lay an absurd

-bit of crumpled, tear-soaked embroidery that had been intended to do

-duty as a handkerchief but had evidently proved quite unseaworthy.

-

-Waddling about on the flags close to the little table was a large fat

-duck wearing a look of inexpressible greed. "_Quack, quack, quack_!"

-it said, waddling off angrily as Lavendar approached.

-

-At the sound of the duck's raucous voice both the women looked up.

-

-"Is this Mrs. Prettyman's cottage, ma'am?" Lavendar asked with his

-charming smile.

-

-"Yes, sir, 't is indeed, and who may you be, if I may be so bold as to

-ask?"

-

-"I'm Mr. Lavendar, Mrs. de Tracy's lawyer, Mrs. Prettyman. I'm come to

-do some business at Stoke Revel," he added, for the old face had

-clouded over, and Mrs. Prettyman's whole expression changed to one of

-timid mistrust. "I really was sent by Mrs. de Tracy," he went on,

-turning to Robinette, "to take you home; Mrs. Loring, isn't it?"

-

-"Yes, I am Mrs. Loring," she said, frankly holding out her hand to

-him. "I knew you were expected at Stoke Revel, but I sent the footman

-back myself. He spoils the scenery and the river altogether."

-

-"I've got a boat down there; Mrs. de Tracy doesn't quite like your

-taking the ferry; may I have the honour of rowing you across? My

-orders were to bring you back as soon as possible."

-

-"I'm blest if I hurry," was his unspoken comment as Robinette gaily

-agreed, and, having bidden good-bye to the old woman, with a quick

-caress that astonished him a good deal, she laid down the little shoe

-gently upon the bench, and turned to accompany him to the boat.

-

-The river was like a looking-glass; the air like balm. "We'll

-take some time getting across, against the tide," said Lavendar

-reflectively, as he resolved that the little voyage should be

-prolonged to its fullest possible extent. He was not going into

-the Manor a moment earlier than he could help, when this charming

-person was sitting opposite to him. So this was Mrs. Loring! How

-different from the stout middle-aged lady whom Mrs. de Tracy's

-words had conjured up when he set out to find her!

-

-"Old Mrs. Prettyman was my mother's nurse," Robinette remarked as

-Lavendar dipped his oars gently into the stream and began to row. "I

-went to see her feeling quite grown up, and she seemed to consider me

-still a child; I was feeling about four years old at the moment when

-you appeared and woke me to the real world again."

-

-She had dried her eyes now and had pulled her hat down so as to shade

-her face, but Lavendar could see the traces of her weeping, and the

-dear little ineffectual rag of a handkerchief was still in one hand.

-

-"What on earth was she crying about?" he thought, as with lowered eyes

-he rowed very slowly across, only just keeping the boat's head

-against the current, and glancing now and then at the young woman.

-

-Was it possible that this lovely person was going to be his

-fellow-guest in that dull house? "My word! but she's pretty! and what

-were the tears about ... and the little shoe? Did it belong to a child

-of her own? Can she be a widow, I wonder," said Lavendar to himself.

-

-"I often think," he said suddenly, raising his head, "that when two

-people meet for the first time as utter strangers to each other, they

-should be encouraged, not forbidden, to ask plain questions. It may be

-my legal training, but I'd like all conversation to begin in that way.

-As a child I was constantly reproved for my curiosity, especially when

-I once asked a touchy old gentleman, 'Which is your glass eye? The one

-that moves, or the one that stands still?'"

-

-The tears had dried, the hat was pushed back again, the young woman's

-face broke into an April smile that matched the day and the weather.

-

-"Oh, come, let us do it," she exclaimed. "I'd love to play it like a

-new game: we know nothing at all about each other, any more than if we

-had dropped from the moon into the boat together. Oh! do be quick!

-We've so little time; the river is quite narrow; who's to open the

-ball?"

-

-"I'll begin, by right of my profession; put the witness in the box,

-please.--What is your name, madam?"

-

-"Robinette Loring," she said demurely, clasping her hands on her knee,

-an almost childlike delight in the new game dimpling the corners of

-her mouth from time to time.

-

-"What is your age, madam?" Lavendar hesitated just for a moment before

-putting this question.

-

-"I refuse to answer; you must guess."

-

-"Contempt of Court--"

-

-"Well, go on; I'm twenty-two and six weeks."

-

-"Thank you, you are remarkably well preserved. I can hardly

-believe--those six-weeks! What nationality?"

-

-"American, of course, or half and half; with an English mother and

-American ideas."

-

-"Thank you. Where is your present place of residence?"

-

-"Stoke Revel Manor House."

-

-"What is the duration of the visit?"

-

-"Fixed at a month, but may be shortened at any time for bad

-behaviour."

-

-"Your purpose in coming to Stoke Revel?"

-

-"A Sentimental Journey, in search of fond relations."

-

-"Have you found these relations?"

-

-"I've found them; but the fondness is still to seek."

-

-"Have you left your family in America?"

-

-"I have no one belonging to me in the world," she answered simply, and

-her bright face clouded suddenly.

-

-There was a moment's rather embarrassed silence. "It's getting to be a

-sad game"; she said. "It's my turn now. I'll be the cross-examiner,

-but not having had your legal training, I'll tell you a few facts

-about this witness to begin with. He's a lawyer; I know that already.

-Your Christian name, sir?"

-

-"Mark."

-

-"Mark Lavendar. 'Mark the perfect man.' Where have I heard that; in

-Pope or in the Bible? Thank you; very good; your age is between thirty

-and thirty-five, with a strong probability that it is thirty-three. Am

-I right?"

-

-"Approximately, madam."

-

-"You are unmarried, for married men don't play games like this; they

-are too sedate."

-

-"You reassure me! Am I expected to acknowledge the truth of all your

-observations?"

-

-"You have only to answer my questions, sir."

-

-"I am unmarried, madam."

-

-"Your nationality?"

-

-"English of course. You don't count a French grandmother, I suppose?"

-

-Robinette clapped her hands. "Of course I do; it accounts for this

-game; it just makes all the difference.--Why have you come to Stoke

-Revel; couldn't you help it?"

-

-A twinkle passed from the blue eyes to the brown ones.

-

-"I am here on business connected with the estate."

-

-"For how long?"

-

-"An hour ago I thought all might be completed in a few days, but these

-affairs are sometimes unaccountably prolonged!" (Was there another

-twinkle? Robinette could hardly say.) They were half-way across the

-river now. She leaned over and looked at herself in the water for a

-moment.

-

-Lavendar rested on his oars, and began to rub the palms of his hands,

-smiling a little to himself as he bent his head.

-

-"Yours is an odd Christian name," he said. "I've never heard it

-before."

-

-"Then you haven't visited your National Gallery faithfully enough,"

-said Mrs. Loring. "Robinetta is one of the Sir Joshua pictures there,

-you know, and it was a great favourite of my mother's in her girlhood.

-Indeed she saved up her pin-money for nearly two years that she might

-have a good copy of it made to hang in her bedroom where she could

-look at it night and morning."

-

-"Then you were named after the picture?"

-

-"I was named from the memory of it," said Robinette, trailing her hand

-through the clear water. "Mother took nothing to America with her but

-my father's love (there was so much of that, it made up for all she

-left behind), so the picture was thousands of miles away when I was

-born. Mother told me that when I was first put into her arms she

-thought suddenly, as she saw my dark head, 'Here is my own Robinetta,

-in place of the one I left behind,' and fell asleep straight away,

-full of joy and content."

-

-"And they shortened the name to Robinette?"

-

-"I was christened properly enough," she answered. "It was the world

-that clipped my name's little wings; the world refuses to take me

-seriously; I can't think why, I'm sure; I never regarded _it_ as a

-joke."

-

-"A joke," said Lavendar reflectively; "it's a sort of grim one at

-times; and yet it's funny too," he said, suddenly raising his eyes.

-

-"Now that's the odd thing I was thinking as I looked at you just now,"

-Robinette said frankly. "You seem so deadly solemn until you look up

-and laugh--and then you _do_ laugh, you know. That's the French

-grandmother again! It was nice in her to marry your grandfather! It

-helped a lot!"

-

-He laughed then certainly, and so did she, and then pointed out to him

-that they were being slowly drifted out of their course, and that if

-he meant to get across to the landing-stage he must row a little

-harder.

-

-"I have met American women casually;" he said, bending to his oars,

-"but I have never known one well."

-

-"It's rather too bad to disturb the tranquillity of your impressions,"

-returned Mrs. Loring composedly.

-

-Lavendar looked up with another twinkle. She seemed to provoke

-twinkles; he did not realize he had so many in stock.

-

-"You mean American women are not painted in quite the right colours?"

-

-"I suppose black _is_ a colour?"

-

-"Oh! I see your point of view!" and Lavendar twinkled again.

-

-"I can tell you in five sentences exactly what you have heard about

-us. Will you say whether I am right? If you refuse I'll put you in the

-witness box and then you'll be forced to speak!"

-

-"Very well; proceed."

-

-"One: We are clever, good conversationalists, and as cold as

-icicles."

-

-"Yes."

-

-"Two: We dress beautifully and use extravagant means to compass our

-ends in this direction."

-

-"Yes."

-

-"Three: We keep our overworked husbands under strict discipline."

-

-"Yes! I say,--I don't like this game."

-

-"Neither do I, but it's very much played,--"

-

-"Four: We prefer hotels to home life and don't bring up our children

-well."

-

-"Yes."

-

-"Five: We interfere with the proper game laws by bagging English

-husbands instead of staying on our own preserves. That's about all, I

-think. Were not those rumours tolerably familiar to you in the

-ha'penny papers and their human counterparts?"

-

-Lavendar was so amused by this direct storming of his opinion that he

-could hardly keep his laughter within bounds. "I've heard one other

-criticism," he said, "that you were all pretty and all had small feet

-and hands! I am now able to declare that to be a base calumny and to

-hope that all the others will prove just as false!" Then Robinette

-laughed too; eyes, lips, cheeks! When Lavendar looked at her he wished

-that his father would keep him at Stoke Revel for a month.

-

-The sun was going down now, and the rising tide came swelling up from

-the sea, lifting itself and silently swelling the volume of the river,

-in a way that had something awful about it. The whole current of the

-great stream was against it, but behind was the force of the sea and

-so it filled and filled with hardly a ripple, as the heart is filled

-with a new desire. Up from the mouth of the river came a faint breeze

-bringing the taste of the ocean into the deeply wooded creeks. It had

-freshened into a little wind, as they drew up at the boat-house, that

-flapped Robinette's blue cape about her, and dyed the colour in her

-cheeks to a livelier tint. As they walked up the narrow pathway to the

-house a deep silence fell between them that neither attempted to

-break.

-

-At the top of the hill, she paused to take breath, and look across the

-river. It was half dark already there, on the other side in the deep

-shadow of the hill; and a lamp in the window of the cottage shone like

-a star beside the faintly green shape of the budding plum tree.

-

-As Robinette entered the door of the Manor House she took out her

-little gold-meshed purse and handed Mark Lavendar a penny.

-

-"It's none too much," she said, meeting his astonished gaze with a

-smile. "I should have had to pay it on the public ferry, and you were

-ever so much nicer than the footman!"

-

-Lavendar put the penny in his waistcoat pocket and has never spent it

-to this day. It is impossible to explain these things; one can only

-state them as facts. Another fact, too, that he suddenly remembered,

-when he went to his room, was, that the moment her personality touched

-his he was filled with curiosity about her. He had met hundreds of

-women and enjoyed their conversation, but seldom longed to know on the

-instant everything that had previously happened to them.

-

-

-

-

-VIII

-

-SUNDAY AT STOKE REVEL

-

-

-On Sundays, the Stoke Revel household was expected to appear at church

-in full strength, visitors included.

-

-"We meet in the hall punctually at a quarter to eleven," it was Miss

-Smeardon's duty to announce to strangers. "Mrs. de Tracy always

-prefers that the Stoke Revel guests should walk down together, as it

-sets a good example to the villagers."

-

-"What Nelson said about going to church with Lady Hamilton!" Lavendar

-had once commented, irrepressibly, but the allusion, rather

-fortunately, was lost upon Miss Smeardon. Mark began to picture the

-familiar Sunday scene to himself; Miss Smeardon in the hall at a

-quarter to eleven punctually, marshalling the church-goers; and Mrs.

-Loring,--she would be late of course, and come fluttering downstairs

-in some bewitching combination of flowery hat and floating scarf that

-no one had ever seen before. What a lover's opportunity in this

-lateness, thought the young man to himself; but one could enjoy a walk

-to church in charming company, though something less than a lover.

-

-It was Mrs. de Tracy's custom, on Sunday mornings, to precede her

-household by half an hour in going to the sanctuary. No infirmities of

-old age had invaded her iron constitution, and it was nothing to her

-to walk alone to the church of Stoke Revel, steep though the hill was

-which led down through the ancient village to the yet more ancient

-edifice at its foot. During this solitary interval, Mrs. de Tracy

-visited her husband's tomb, and no one knew, or dared, or cared to

-enquire, what motive encouraged this pious action in a character so

-devoid of tenderness and sentiment. Was it affection, was it duty, was

-it a mere form, a tribute to the greatness of an owner of Stoke

-Revel, such as a nation pays to a dead king? Who could tell?

-

-The graveyard of Stoke Revel owned a yew tree, so very, very old that

-the count of its years was lost and had become a fable or a fairy

-tale. It was twisted, gnarled, and low; and its long branches, which

-would have reached the ground, were upheld, like the arms of some

-dying patriarch, by supports, themselves old and moss-grown. Under the

-spreading of this ancient tree were graves, and from the carved,

-age-eaten porch of the church, a path led among them, under the green

-tunnel, out into the sunny space beyond it. The Admiral lay in a vault

-of which the door was at the side of the church, for no de Tracy, of

-course, could occupy a mere grave, like one of the common herd; and

-here walked the funereal figure of Mrs. de Tracy, fair weather or

-foul, nearly every Sunday in the year.

-

-In justice to Mrs. de Tracy, it must be made plain that with all her

-faults, small spite was not a part of her character. Yet to-day, her

-anger had been stirred by an incident so small that its very

-triviality annoyed her pride. It was Mark Lavendar's custom, when his

-visits to Stoke Revel included a Sunday, cheerfully to evade

-church-going. His Sundays in the country were few, he said, and he

-preferred to enjoy them in the temple of nature, generally taking a

-long walk before lunch. But to-day he had announced his intention of

-coming to service, and well Mrs. de Tracy, versed in men and in human

-nature, knew why. Robinette would be there, and Lavendar followed, as

-the bee follows a basket of flowers on a summer day. As Mrs. de Tracy,

-like the Stoic that she was, accepted all the inevitable facts of

-life,--birth, death, love, hate (she had known them all in her day),

-she accepted this one also. But in that atrophy of every feeling

-except bitterness, that atrophy which is perhaps the only real

-solitude, the only real old age, her animosity was stirred. It was as

-though a dead branch upon some living tree was angry with the spring

-for breathing on it. As she returned, herself unseen in the shadow of

-the yew tree, she saw Lavendar and Robinette enter together under the

-lych-gate, the figure of the young woman touched with sunlight and

-colour, her lips moving, and Lavendar smiling in answer. In the

-clashing of the bells--bells which shook the air, the earth, the

-ancient stones, the very nests upon the trees--their voices were

-inaudible, but in their faces was a young happiness and hope to which

-the solitary woman could not blind herself.

-

-Presently in the lukewarm air within, Robinette was finding the

-church's immemorial smell of prayer-books, hassocks, decaying wood,

-damp stones, matting, school-children, and altar flowers, a harmonious

-and suggestive one if not pleasant. What an ancient air it was, she

-thought; breathed and re-breathed by slow generations of Stoke

-Revellers during their sleepy devotions! The very light that entered

-through the dim stained glass seemed old and dusty, it had seen so

-much during so many hundred years, seen so much, and found out so many

-secrets! Soon the clashing of the bells ceased and upon the still

-reverberating silence there broke the small, snoring noises of a

-rather ineffectual organ, while the amiable curate, Rev. Tobias Finch,

-made his appearance, and the service began.

-

-Mrs. de Tracy had entered the pew first, naturally; Miss Smeardon sat

-next, then Robinetta. Lavendar occupied the pew in front, alone, and

-through her half-closed eyelids Robinetta could see the line of his

-lean cheek and bony temple. He had not wished to sit there at all and

-he was so unresigned as to be badly in need of the soothing influences

-of Morning Prayer. Robinetta was beginning to wonder dreamily what

-manner of man this really was, behind his plain face and non-committal

-manner, when the muffled slam of a door behind, startled her, followed

-as it was by a quick step upon the matted aisle. Then without further

-warning, a big, broad-shouldered boy, in the uniform of a British

-midshipman, thrust himself into the pew beside her, hot and breathless

-after running hard. Mrs. Loring guessed at once that this must be

-Carnaby de Tracy, the young hopeful and heir of Stoke Revel of whom

-Mr. Lavendar had so often spoken, but the startling and unconventional

-nature of his appearance was not at all what one expected in a member

-of his family. Robinette stole more than one look at him as the

-offertory went round; a robust boy with a square chin, a fair face

-burnt red by the sun, a rollicking eye and an impudent nose; not

-handsome certainly, indeed quite plain, but he looked honest and

-strong and clean, and Robinette's frolicsome youth was drawn to his,

-all ready for fun. Carnaby hitched about a good deal, dropped his

-hymn-book, moved the hassock, took out his handkerchief, and on

-discovering a huge hole, turned crimson.

-

-Service over, the congregation shuffled out into the sunshine, and

-Mrs. de Tracy, after a characteristically cool and disapproving

-recognition of her grandson, became occupied with villagers.

-Lavendar made known young Carnaby to Mrs. David Loring, but the

-midshipman's light grey eyes had discovered the pretty face without

-any assistance.

-

-"This lady is your American cousin, Carnaby," said Mark. "Did you know

-you had one?"

-

-"I don't think I did," answered the boy, "but it's never too late to

-mend!" He attempted a bow of finished grown-upness, failed somewhat,

-and melted at once into an engaging boyishness, under which his

-frank admiration of his new-found relative was not to be hidden. "I

-say, are you stopping at Stoke Revel?" he asked, as though the news

-were too good to be true. "Jolly! Hullo--" he broke off with

-animation as the cassocked figure of the Rev. Tobias Finch fluttered

-out from the porch--"here's old Toby! Watch Miss Smeardon now! She

-expects to catch him, you know, but he says he's going to be a

-celly--celly-what-d'you-call-'em?"

-

-"Celibate?" suggested Lavendar, with laughing eyes.

-

-"The very word, thank you!" said Carnaby. "Yes: a celibate. Not so

-easily nicked, good old Toby--you bet!"

-

-"Do the clergymen over here always dress like that?" inquired

-Robinetta, trying to suppress a tendency to laugh at his slang.

-

-"Cassock?" said Carnaby. "Toby wouldn't be seen without it. High, you

-know! Bicycles in it. Fact! Goes to bed in it, I believe."

-

-"Carnaby, Carnaby! Come away!" said Lavendar. "Restrain these flights

-of imagination! Don't you see how they shock Mrs. Loring?"

-

-Before the Manor was reached, Robinetta and Carnaby had sworn eternal

-friendship deeper than any cousinship, they both declared. They met

-upon a sort of platform of Stoke Revel, predestined to sympathy upon

-all its salient characteristics; two naughty children on a holiday.

-

-"Do you get enough to eat here?" asked Carnaby in a hollow whisper, in

-the drawing-room before lunch.

-

-"Of course I have enough, Middy," answered Robinetta with unconscious

-reservation. She had rejected "Carnaby" at once as a name quite

-impossible: he was "Middy" to her almost from the first moment of

-their acquaintance.

-

-"Enough?" he ejaculated, "_I_ don't! I'd never be fed if it weren't

-for old Bates and Mrs. Smith and Cooky." Bates was the butler, Mrs.

-Smith the housekeeper, and Cooky her satellite. "Nobody gets enough to

-eat in this house!" added Carnaby darkly, "except the dog."

-

-At the lunch-table, the antagonism natural between a hot-blooded

-impetuous boy and a grandmother such as Mrs. de Tracy became rather

-painfully apparent. He had already been hauled over the coals for his

-arrival on Sunday and his indecorous appearance in church after

-service had begun.

-

-"It does not appear to me that you are at all in need of sick-leave,"

-said Mrs. de Tracy suspiciously.

-

-Carnaby, sensitive for all his robustness, flushed hotly, and then

-became impertinent. "My pulse is twenty beats too quick still, after

-quinsy. If you don't believe the doctor, ma'am, it's not my fault."

-

-"Carnaby has committed indiscretions in the way of growing since I

-last saw him," Lavendar broke in hastily. "At sixteen one may easily

-outgrow one's strength!"

-

-"Indeed!" said Mrs. de Tracy, frigidly. The situation was saved by the

-behaviour of the lap-dog, which suddenly burst into a passion of

-barking and convulsive struggling in Miss Smeardon's arms. His enemy

-had come, and Carnaby had fifty ways of exasperating his grandmother's

-favourite, secrets between him and the bewildered dog. Rupert was a

-Prince Charles of pedigree as unquestioned as his mistress's and an

-appearance dating back to Vandyke, but Carnaby always addressed him as

-"Lord Roberts," for reasons of his own. It annoyed his grandmother and

-it infuriated the dog, who took it for a deadly insult.

-

-"Lord Roberts! Bobs, old man, hi! hi!" Carnaby had but to say the

-words to make the little dog convulsive. He said them now, and the

-results seemed likely to be fatal to a dropsical animal so soon after

-a full meal.

-

-"You'll kill him!" whispered Robinette as they left the dining room.

-

-"I mean to!" was the calm reply. "I'd like to wring old Smeardon's

-neck too!" but the broad good humour of the rosy face, the twinkling

-eyes, belied these truculent words. In spite of infinite powers of

-mischief, there was not an ounce of vindictiveness in Carnaby de

-Tracy, though there might be other qualities difficult to deal with.

-

-"There's a man to be made there--or to be marred!" said Robinette to

-herself.

-

-

-

-

-IX

-

-POINTS OF VIEW

-

-

-Evenings at Stoke Revel were of a dullness all too deep to be sounded

-and too closely hedged in by tradition and observance to be evaded or

-shortened by the boldest visitor. Lavendar and the boy would have

-prolonged their respite in the smoking room had they dared, but in

-these later days Lavendar found he wished to be below on guard. The

-thought of Robinette alone between the two women downstairs made him

-uneasy. It was as though some bird of bright plumage had strayed into

-a barnyard to be pecked at by hens. Not but what he realised that this

-particular bird had a spirit of her own, and plenty of courage, but no

-man with even a prospective interest in a pretty woman, likes to think

-of the object of his admiration as thoroughly well able to look after

-herself. She must needs have a protector, and the heaven-sent one is

-himself.

-

-He had to take up arms in her defense on this, the first night of his

-arrival. Mrs. Loring had gone up to her room for some photographs of

-her house in America, and as she flitted through the door her scarf

-caught on the knob, and he had been obliged to extricate it. He had

-known her exactly four hours, and although he was unconscious of it,

-his heart was being pulled along the passage and up the stairway at

-the tail-end of that wisp of chiffon, while he listened to her

-retreating footsteps. Closing the door he came back to Mrs. de Tracy's

-side.

-

-"Her dress is indecorous for a widow," said that lady severely.

-

-"Oh, I don't see that," replied Lavendar. "She is in reality only a

-girl, and her widowhood has already lasted two years, you say."

-

-"Once a widow always a widow," returned Mrs. de Tracy sententiously,

-with a self-respecting glance at her own cap and the half-dozen dull

-jet ornaments she affected. Lavendar laughed outright, but she rather

-liked his laughter: it made her think herself witty. Once he had told

-her she was "delicious," and she had never forgotten it.

-

-"That's going pretty far, my dear lady," he replied. "Not all women

-are so faithful to a memory as you. I understand Americans don't wear

-weeds, and to me her blue cape is a delightful note in the landscape.

-Her dresses are conventional and proper, and I fancy she cannot

-express herself without a bit of colour."

-

-"The object of clothing, Mark, is to cover and to protect yourself,

-not to express yourself," said Mrs. de Tracy bitingly.

-

-"The thought of wearing anything bright always makes me shrink,"

-remarked Miss Smeardon, who had never apparently observed the tip of

-her own nose, "but some persons are less sensitive on these points

-than others."

-

-Mrs. de Tracy bowed an approving assent to this. "A widow's only

-concern should be to refrain from attracting notice," she said, as

-though quoting from a private book of proverbial philosophy soon to be

-published.

-

-"Then Mrs. Loring might as well have burned herself on her husband's

-funeral pyre, Hindoo fashion!" argued Lavendar. "A woman's life hasn't

-ended at two and twenty. It's hardly begun, and I fear the lady in

-question will arouse attention whatever she wears."

-

-"Would she be called attractive?" asked Mrs. de Tracy with surprise.

-

-"Oh, yes, without a doubt!"

-

-"In gentlemen's eyes, I suppose you mean?" said Miss Smeardon.

-

-"Yes, in gentlemen's eyes," answered Lavendar, firmly. "Those of women

-are apparently furnished with different lenses. But here comes the

-fair object of our discussion, so we must decide it later on."

-

-The question of ancestors, a favourite one at Stoke Revel, came up in

-the course of the next evening's conversation, and Lavendar found

-Robinette a trifle flushed but smiling under a double fire of

-questions from Mrs. de Tracy and her companion. Mrs. de Tracy was in

-her usual chair, knitting; Miss Smeardon sat by the table with a piece

-of fancy-work; Robinette had pulled a foot-stool to the hearthrug and

-sat as near the flames as she conveniently could. She shielded her

-face with the last copy of _Punch_, and let her shoulders bask in the

-warmth of the fire, which made flickering shadows on her creamy neck.

-Her white skirts swept softly round her feet, and her favourite

-turquoise scarf made a note of colour in her lap. She was one of those

-women who, without positive beauty, always make pictures of

-themselves.

-

-Lavendar analyzed her looks as he joined the circle, pretending to

-read. "She isn't posing," he thought, "but she ought to be painted.

-She ought always to be painted, each time one sees her, for

-everything about her suggests a portrait. That blue ribbon in her hair

-is fairly distracting! What the dickens is the reason one wants to

-look at her all the time! I've seen far handsomer women!"

-

-"Do you use Burke and Debrett in your country, Mrs. Loring?" Miss

-Smeardon was enquiring politely, as she laid down one red volume after

-the other, having ascertained the complete family tree of a lady who

-had called that afternoon.

-

-Robinette smiled. "I'm afraid we've nothing but telephone or business

-directories, social registers, and 'Who's Who,' in America," she

-said.

-

-"You are not interested in questions of genealogy, I suppose?" asked

-Mrs. de Tracy pityingly.

-

-"I can hardly say that. But I think perhaps that we are more occupied

-with the future than with the past."

-

-"That is natural," assented the lady of the Manor, "since you have so

-much more of it, haven't you? But the mixture of races in your

-country," she continued condescendingly, "must have made you

-indifferent to purity of strain."

-

-"I hope we are not wholly indifferent," said Robinette, as though she

-were stopping to consider. "I think every serious-minded person must

-be proud to inherit fine qualities and to pass them on. Surely it

-isn't enough to give _old_ blood to the next generation--it must be

-_good_ blood. Yes! the right stock certainly means something to an

-American."

-

-"But if you've nothing that answers to Burke and Debrett, I don't see

-how you can find out anybody's pedigree," objected Miss Smeardon. Then

-with an air of innocent curiosity and a glance supposed to be arch,

-"Are the Red Indians, the Negroes, and the Chinese in your so-called

-directories?"

-

-"As many of them as are in business, or have won their way to any

-position among men no doubt are there, I suppose," answered Robinette

-straightforwardly. "I think we just guess at people's ancestry by the

-way they look, act, and speak," she continued musingly. "You can

-'guess' quite well if you are clever at it. No Indians or Chinese ever

-dine with me, Miss Smeardon, though I'd rather like a peaceful Indian

-at dinner for a change; but I expect he'd find me very dull and

-uneventful!"

-

-"Dull!--that's a word I very often hear on American lips," broke in

-Lavendar as he looked over the top of Henry Newbolt's poems. "I

-believe being dull is thought a criminal offence in your country. Now,

-isn't there some danger involved in this fear of dullness?"

-

-"I shouldn't wonder," Robinette answered thoughtfully, looking into

-the fire. "Yes; I dare say there is, but I'm afraid there are social

-and mental dangers involved in _not_ being afraid of it, too!" Her

-mischievous eyes swept the room, with Mrs. de Tracy's solemn figure

-and Miss Smeardon's for its bright ornaments. "The moment a person or

-a nation allows itself to be too dull, it ceases to be quite alive,

-doesn't it? But as to us Americans, Mr. Lavendar, bear with us for a

-few years, we are so ridiculously young! It is our growing time, and

-what you want in a young plant is growth, isn't it?"

-

-"Y-yes," Lavendar replied: then with a twinkle in his blue eyes he

-added: "Only somehow we don't like to hear a plant grow! It should

-manage to perform the operation quite silently, showing not processes

-but results. That's a counsel of perfection, perhaps, but don't slay

-me for plain-speaking, Mrs. Loring!"

-

-Robinette laughed. "I'll never slay you for saying anything so wise

-and true as that!" she said, and Lavendar, flushing under her praise,

-was charmed with her good humour.

-

-"America's a very large country, is it not?" enquired Miss Smeardon

-with her usual brilliancy. "What is its area?"

-

-"Bigger than England, but not as big as the British Empire!" suggested

-Carnaby, feeling the conversation was drifting into his ken.

-

-"It's just the size of the moon, I've heard!" said Robinette

-teasingly. "Does that throw any light on the question?"

-

-"Moonlight!" laughed Carnaby, much pleased with his own wit. "Ha! ha!

-That's the first joke I've made this holidays. _Moonlight!_ Jolly

-good!"

-

-"If you'd take a joke a little more in your stride, my son," said

-Lavendar, "we should be more impressed by your mental sparkles."

-

-"Straighten the sofa-cushions, Carnaby," said his grandmother, "and

-don't lounge. I missed the point of your so-called joke entirely. As

-to the size of a country or anything else, I have never understood

-that it affected its quality. In fruit or vegetables, for instance, it

-generally means coarseness and indifferent flavour." Miss Smeardon

-beamed at this palpable hit, but Mrs. Loring deprived the situation of

-its point by backing up Mrs. de Tracy heartily. She had no opinion of

-mere size, either, she declared.

-

-"You don't stand up for your country half enough," objected Carnaby to

-his cousin. ("Why don't you give the old cat beans?" was his

-supplement, _sotto voce_.)

-

-"Just attack some of my pet theories and convictions, Middy dear, if

-you wish to see me in a rage," said Robinette lightly, "but my motto

-will never be 'My country right or wrong.'"

-

-"Nor mine," agreed Lavendar. "I'm heartily with you there."

-

-"It's a great venture we're trying in America. I wish every one would

-try to look at it in that light," said Robinette with a slight flush

-of earnestness.

-

-"What do you mean by a venture?" asked Mrs. de Tracy.

-

-"The experiment we're making in democracy," answered Robinette. "It's

-fallen to us to try it, for of course it simply had to be tried. It

-is thrillingly interesting, whatever it may turn out, and I wish I

-might live to see the end of it. We are creating a race, Aunt de

-Tracy; think of that!"

-

-"It's as difficult for nations as for individuals to hit the happy

-medium," said Lavendar, stirring the fire. "Enterprise carried too far

-becomes vulgar hustling, while stability and conservatism often pass

-the coveted point of repose and degenerate into torpor."

-

-"This part of England seems to me singularly free from faults,"

-interposed Mrs. de Tracy in didactic tones. "We have a wonderful

-climate; more sunshine than in any part of the island, I believe. Our

-local society is singularly free from scandal. The clergy, if not

-quite as eloquent or profound as in London (and in my opinion it is

-the better for being neither) is strictly conscientious. We have no

-burglars or locusts or gnats or even midges, as I'm told they

-unfortunately have in Scotland, and our dinner-parties, though quiet

-and dignified, are never dull.... What is the matter, Robinetta?"

-

-"A sudden catch in my throat," said Robinette, struggling with some

-sort of vocal difficulty and avoiding Lavendar's eye. "Thank you," as

-he offered her a glass of water from the punctual and strictly

-temperate evening tray. "Don't look at me," she added under her

-voice.

-

-"Not for a million of money!" he whispered. Then he said aloud: "If I

-ever stand for Parliament, Mrs. Loring, I should like you to help me

-with my constituency!"

-

-The unruffled temper and sweet reasonableness of Robinette's answers

-to questions by no means always devoid of malice, had struck the young

-man very much, as he listened.

-

-"She is good!" he thought to himself. "Good and sweet and generous.

-Her loveliness is not only in her face; it is in her heart." And some

-favorite lines began to run in his head that night, with new

-conviction:--

-

-                 He that loves a rosy cheek,

-                   Or a coral lip admires,

-                 Or from star-like eyes doth seek

-                   Fuel to maintain his fires,--

-                 As old Time makes these decay,

-                   So his flames will waste away.

-

-                 But a smooth and steadfast mind,

-                   Gentle thoughts and calm desires,

-                 Hearts with equal love combined--

-

-but here Lavendar broke off with a laugh.

-

-"It's not come to that yet!" he thought. "I wonder if it ever will?"

-

-

-

-

-X

-

-A NEW KINSMAN

-

-

-Young Mrs. Loring was making her way slowly at Stoke Revel Manor, and

-Mrs. de Tracy, though never affectionate, treated her with a little

-less indifference as the days went on. "The Admiral's niece is a

-lady," she admitted to herself privately; "not perhaps the highest

-type of English lady; that, considering her mixed ancestry and

-American education, would be too much to expect; but in the broad,

-general meaning of the word, unmistakably a lady!"

-

-Mrs. Benson, though not melting outwardly as yet, held more lenient

-views still with regard to the American guest. Bates, the butler, was

-elderly, and severely Church of England; his knowledge of widows was

-confined to the type ably represented by his mistress and he regarded

-young Mrs. Loring as inclined to be "flighty." The footman, who was

-entirely under the butler's thumb in mundane matters, had fallen into

-the habit of sharing his opinions, and while agreeing in the general

-feeling of flightiness, declared boldly that the lady in question gave

-a certain "style" to the dinner-table that it had lacked before her

-advent.

-

-For a helpless victim, however, a slave bound in fetters of steel, one

-would have to know Cummins, the under housemaid, who lighted Mrs.

-Loring's fire night and morning. She was young, shy, country bred, and

-new to service. When Mrs. Benson sent her to the guest's room at eight

-o'clock on the morning after her arrival she stopped outside the door

-in a panic of fear.

-

-"Come in!" called a cheerful voice. "Come in!"

-

-Cummins entered, bearing her box with brush and cloth and kindlings.

-To her further embarrassment Mrs. Loring was sitting up in bed with an

-ermine coat on, over which her bright hair fell in picturesque

-disorder. She had brought the coat for theatre and opera, but as these

-attractions were lacking at Stoke Revel and as life there was, to her,

-one prolonged Polar expedition, with dashes farthest north morning and

-evening, she had diverted it to practical uses.

-

-"Make me a quick fire please, a big fire, a hot fire," she begged, "or

-I shall be late for breakfast; I never can step into that tin tub till

-the ice is melted."

-

-"There's no ice in it, ma'am," expostulated Cummins gently, with the

-voice of a wood dove.

-

-"You can't see it because you're English," said the strange lady, "but

-I can see it and feel it. Oh, you make _such_ a good fire! What is

-your name, please?"

-

-"Cummins, ma'am."

-

-"There's another Cummins downstairs, but she is tall and large. You

-shall be 'Little Cummins.'"

-

-Now every morning the shy maid palpitated outside the bedroom door,

-having given her modest knock; palpitated for fear it should be all a

-dream. But no, it was not! there would be a clear-voiced "Come in!"

-and then, as she entered; "Good morning, Little Cummins. I've been

-longing for you since daybreak!" A trifle later on it was, "Good

-Little Cummins bearing coals of comfort! Kind Little Cummins," and

-other strange and wonderful terms of praise, until Little Cummins felt

-herself consumed by a passion to which Mrs. de Tracy's coals became as

-less than naught unless they could be heaped on the altar of the

-beloved.

-

-So life went on at Stoke Revel, outwardly even and often dull, while

-in reality many subtle changes were taking place below the surface;

-changes slight in themselves but not without meaning.

-

-Robinette ran up to her room directly after breakfast one morning and

-pinned on her hat as she came downstairs. Mark Lavendar had gone to

-London for a few days, but even the dullness of breakfast-table

-conversation had not robbed her of her joy in the early sunshine, made

-more cheery by the prospect of a walk with Carnaby, with whom she was

-now fast friends.

-

-Carnaby looked at her beamingly as they stood together on the steps.

-"You're the best turned-out woman of my acquaintance," he said

-approvingly, with a laughable struggle for the tone of a middle-aged

-man of the world.

-

-"How many ladies of fashion do you know, my child?" enquired

-Robinetta, pulling on her gloves.

-

-"I see a lot of 'em off and on," Carnaby answered somewhat huffily,

-"and they don't call me a child either!"

-

-"Don't they? Then that's because they're timid and don't dare address

-a future Admiral as Infant-in-Arms! Come on, Middy dear, let's walk."

-

-Robinette wore a white serge dress and jacket, and her hat was a rough

-straw turned up saucily in two places with black owls' heads. Mrs.

-Benson and Little Cummins had looked at it curiously while Robinette

-was at breakfast.

-

-"'Tis black underneath and white on top, Mrs. Benson. 'Ow can that be?

-It looks as if one 'at 'ad been clapped on another!"

-

-"That's what it is, Cummins. It's a double hat; but they'll do

-anything in America. It's a double hat with two black owls' heads, and

-I'll wager they charged double price for it!"

-

-"She's a lovely beauty in anythink and everythink she wears," said

-Little Cummins loyally.

-

-"May I call you 'Cousin Robin'?" Carnaby asked as they walked along.

-"Robinette is such a long name."

-

-"Cousin Robin is very nice, I think," she answered. "As a matter

-of fact I ought to be your Aunt Robin; it would be much more

-appropriate."

-

-"Aunt be blowed!" ejaculated Carnaby.

-

-"You're very fond of making yourself out old, but it's no go! When I

-first heard you were a widow I thought you would be grandmother's

-age,--I say--do you think you will marry another time, Cousin Robin?"

-

-"That's a very leading question for a gentleman to put to a lady! Were

-you intending to ask me to wait for you, Middy dear?" asked Robinette,

-putting her arm in the boy's laughingly, quite unconscious of his

-mood.

-

-"I'd wait quick enough if you'd let me! I'd wait a lifetime! There

-never was anybody like you in the world!"

-

-The words were said half under the boy's breath and the emotion in his

-tone was a complete and disagreeable surprise. Here was something that

-must be nipped in the bud, instantly and courageously. Robinette

-dropped Carnaby's arm and said: "We'll talk that over at once, Middy

-dear, but first you shall race me to the top of the twisting path,

-down past the tulip beds, to the seat under the big ash tree.--Come

-on!"

-

-The two reached the tree in a moment, Carnaby sufficiently in advance

-to preserve his self-respect and with a colour heightened by something

-other than the exercise of running.

-

-"Sit down, first cousin once removed!" said Robinette. "Do you know

-the story of Sydney Smith, who wrote apologizing to somebody for not

-being able to come to dinner? 'The house is full of cousins,' he said;

-'would they were "once removed"!'"

-

-"It's no good telling me literary anecdotes!--You're not treating me

-fairly," said Carnaby sulkily.

-

-"I'm treating you exactly as you should be treated, Infant-in-Arms,"

-Robinette answered firmly. "Give me your two paws, and look me

-straight in the eye."

-

-Carnaby was no coward. His steel-grey eyes blazed as he met his

-cousin's look. "Carnaby dear, do you know what you are to me? You are

-my kinsman; my only male relation. I'm so fond of you already, don't

-spoil it! Think what you can be to me if you will. I am all alone in

-the world and when you grow a little older how I should like to depend

-upon you! I need affection; so do you, dear boy; can't I see how you

-are just starving for it? There is no reason in the world why we

-shouldn't be fond of each other! Oh! how grateful I should be to think

-of a strong young middy growing up to advise me and take me about! It

-was that kind of care and thought of me that was in your mind just

-now!"

-

-"You'll be marrying somebody one of these days," blurted Carnaby,

-wholly moved, but only half convinced. "Then you'll forget all about

-your 'kinsman.'"

-

-"I have no intention in that direction," said Robinette, "but if I

-change my mind I'll consult you first; how will that do?"

-

-"It wouldn't do any good," sighed the boy, "so I'd rather you

-wouldn't! You'd have your own way spite of everything a fellow could

-say against it!"

-

-There was a moment of embarrassment; then the silence was promptly

-broken by Robinette.

-

-"Well, Middy dear, are we the best of friends?" she asked, rising from

-the bench and putting out her hand.

-

-The lad took it and said all in a glow of chivalry, "You're the

-dearest, the best, and the prettiest cousin in the world! You don't

-mind my thinking you're the prettiest?"

-

-"Mind it? I delight in it! I shall come to your ship and pour out tea

-for you in my most fetching frock. Your friends will say: 'Who is that

-particularly agreeable lady, Carnaby?' And you, with swelling chest,

-will respond, 'That's my American cousin, Mrs. Loring. She's a nice

-creature; I'm glad you like her!'"

-

-Robinette's imitation of Carnaby's possible pomposity was so amusing

-and so clever that it drew a laugh from the boy in spite of himself.

-

-"Just let anyone try to call you a 'creature'!" he exclaimed. "He'd

-have me to reckon with! Oh! I am so tired of being a boy! The inside

-of me is all grown up and everybody keeps on looking at the outside

-and thinking I'm just the same as I always was!"

-

-"Dear old Middy, you're quite old enough to be my protector and that

-is what you shall be! Now shall we go in? I want you to stand near by

-while I ask your grandmother a favor."

-

-"She won't do it if she can help it," was Carnaby's succinct reply.

-

-"Oh, I am not sure! Where shall we find her,--in the library?"

-

-"Yes; come along! Get up your circulation; you'll need it!"

-

-"Aunt de Tracy, there is something at Stoke Revel I am very anxious to

-have if you will give it to me," said Robinette, as she came into the

-library a few minutes later.

-

-Mrs. de Tracy looked up from her knitting solemnly. "If it belongs to

-me, I shall no doubt be willing, as I know you would not ask for

-anything out of the common; but I own little here; nearly all is

-Carnaby's."

-

-"This was my mother's," said Robinette. "It is a picture hanging in

-the smoking room; one that was a great favorite of hers, called

-'Robinetta.' Her drawing-master found an Italian artist in London who

-went to the National Gallery and made a copy of the Sir Joshua

-picture, and I was named after it."

-

-"I wish your mother could have been a little less romantic," sighed

-Mrs. de Tracy. "There were such fine old family names she might have

-used: Marcia and Elspeth, and Rosamond and Winifred!"

-

-"I am sorry, Aunt de Tracy. If I had been consulted I believe I should

-have agreed with you. Perhaps when my mother was in America the family

-ties were not drawn as tightly as in the former years?"

-

-"If it was so, it was only natural," said the old lady. "However, if

-you ask Carnaby, and if the picture has no great value, I am sure he

-will wish you to have it, especially if you know it to have been your

-mother's property." Here Carnaby sauntered into the room. "That's all

-right, grandmother," he said, "I heard what you were saying; only I

-wish it was a real Sir Joshua we were giving Cousin Robin instead of a

-copy!"

-

-"Thank you, Carnaby dear, and thank you, too, Aunt de Tracy. You can't

-think how much it is to me to have this; it is a precious link between

-mother's girlhood, and mother, and me." So saying, she dropped a timid

-kiss upon Mrs. de Tracy's iron-grey hair, and left the room.

-

-"If she could live in England long enough to get over that excessive

-freedom of manner, your cousin would be quite a pleasing person, but I

-am afraid it goes too deep to be cured," Mrs. de Tracy remarked as she

-smoothed the hairs that might have been ruffled by Robinette's kiss.

-

-Carnaby made no reply. He was looking out into the garden and feeling

-half a boy, half a man, but wholly, though not very contentedly, a

-kinsman.

-

-

-

-

-XI

-

-THE SANDS AT WESTON

-

-

-"Thursday morning? Is it possible that this is Thursday morning? And I

-must run up to London on Saturday," said Lavendar to himself as he

-finished dressing by the open window. He looked up the day of the week

-in his calendar first, in order to make quite sure of the fact. Yes,

-there was no doubt at all that it was Thursday. His sense of time must

-have suffered some strange confusion; in one way it seemed only an

-hour ago that he had arrived from the clangour and darkness of London

-to the silence of the country, the cuckoos calling across the river

-between the wooded hills, and the April sunshine on the orchard trees;

-in another, years might have passed since the moment when he first saw

-Robinette Loring sitting under Mrs. Prettyman's plum tree.

-

-"Eight days have we spent together in this house, and yet since that

-time when we first crossed in the boat, I've never been more than half

-an hour alone with her," he thought. "There are only three other

-people in the house after all, but they seem to have the power of

-multiplying themselves like the loaves and fishes (only when they're

-not wanted) so that we're eternally in a crowd. That boy particularly!

-I like Carnaby, if he could get it into his thick head that his

-presence isn't always necessary; it must bother Mrs. Loring too; he's

-quite off his head about her if she only knew it. However, it's my

-last day very likely, and if I have to outwit Machiavelli I'll manage

-it somehow! Surely one lame old woman, and a torpid machine for

-knitting and writing notes like Miss Smeardon, can't want to be out of

-doors all day. Hang that boy, though! He'll come anywhere." Here he

-stopped and sat down suddenly at the dressing-table, covering his face

-with his hands in comic despair. "Mrs. Loring can't like it! She must

-be doing it on purpose, avoiding being alone with me because she sees

-I admire her," he sighed. "After all why should I ever suppose that I

-interest her as much as she does me?"

-

-No one could have told from Lavendar's face, when he appeared fresh

-and smiling at the breakfast table half an hour later, that he was

-hatching any deep-laid schemes.

-

-Robinette entered the dining room five minutes late, as usual, pretty

-as a pink, breathless with hurrying. She wore a white dress again,

-with one rose stuck at her waistband, "A little tribute from the

-gardener," she said, as she noticed Lavendar glance at it. She went

-rapidly around the table shaking hands, and gave Carnaby's red cheeks

-a pinch in passing that made Lavendar long to tweak the boy's ear.

-

-"Good morning, all!" she said cheerily, "and how is my first cousin

-once removed? Is he going to Weston with me this morning to buy

-hairpins?"

-

-"He is!" Carnaby answered joyfully, between mouthfuls of bacon and

-eggs. "He has been out of hairpins for a week."

-

-"Does he need tapes and buttons also?" asked Robinette, taking the

-piece of muffin from his hand and buttering it for herself; an act

-highly disapproved of by Mrs. de Tracy, who hurriedly requested Bates

-to pass the bread.

-

-"He needs everything you need," Carnaby said with heightened colour.

-

-"My hair is giving me a good deal of trouble, lately," remarked

-Lavendar, passing his hand over a thickly thatched head.

-

-"I have an excellent American tonic that I will give you after

-breakfast," said Robinette roguishly. "You need to apply it with a

-brush at ten, eleven, and twelve o'clock, sitting in the sun

-continuously between those hours so that the scalp may be well

-invigorated. Carnaby, will you buy me butter scotch and lemonade and

-oranges in Weston?"

-

-"I will, if Grandmother'll increase my allowance," said Carnaby

-malevolently, "for I need every penny I've got in hand for the

-hairpins."

-

-"I hope you are not hungry, Robinetta," said Mrs. de Tracy, "that you

-have to buy food in Weston."

-

-"No, indeed," said Robinette, "I was only longing to test Carnaby's

-generosity and educate him in buying trifles for pretty ladies."

-

-"He can probably be relied on to educate himself in that line when the

-time comes," Mrs. de Tracy remarked; "and now if you have all finished

-talking about hair, I will take up my breakfast again."

-

-"Oh, Aunt de Tracy, I am so sorry if it wasn't a nice subject, but I

-never thought. Anyway I only talked about hairpins; it was Mr.

-Lavendar who introduced hair into the conversation; wasn't it, Middy

-dear?"

-

-Lavendar thought he could have annihilated them both for their open

-comradeship, their obvious delight in each other's society. Was he to

-be put on the shelf like a dry old bachelor? Not he! He would

-circumvent them in some way or another, although the role of

-gooseberry was new to him.

-

-The two young people set off in high spirits, and Mrs. de Tracy and

-Miss Smeardon watched them as they walked down the avenue on their way

-to the station, their clasped hands swinging in a merry rhythm as they

-hummed a bit of the last popular song.

-

-"I hope Robinetta will not Americanize Carnaby," said Mrs. de Tracy.

-"He seems so foolishly elated, so feverishly gay all at once. Her

-manner is too informal; Carnaby requires constant repression."

-

-"Perhaps his temperature has not returned to normal since his attack

-of quinsy," Miss Smeardon observed, reassuringly.

-

-Meanwhile Lavendar sat in Admiral de Tracy's old smoking room for half

-an hour writing letters. Every time that he glanced up from his work,

-and he did so pretty often, his eyes fell on a picture that hung upon

-the opposite wall. It was the copy of Sir Joshua's "Robinetta" made

-long ago and just presented to its namesake.

-

-In the portrait the girl's hair was a still brighter gold; yet

-certainly there was a likeness somewhere about it, he thought; partly

-in the expression, partly in the broad low forehead, and the eyes that

-looked as if they were seeing fairies.

-

-Of course to his mind Mrs. Loring was a hundred times more lovely than

-Sir Joshua's famous girl with a robin. He felt very ill-used because

-Robinette and Carnaby had deliberately gone for an excursion without

-him and had left him toiling over business papers when they had gone

-off to enjoy themselves.

-

-How bright it was out there in the sunshine, to be sure! And why

-should it be Carnaby, not he, who was by this time walking along the

-sea front of Weston, and watching the breeze flutter Robinette's scarf

-and bring a brighter colour to her lips?

-

-There! the last words were written, and taking up his bunch of

-letters, watch in hand, he sought Mrs. de Tracy, and explained that he

-would bicycle to Weston and catch the London post himself.

-

-"I'll send William"--she began; but Lavendar hastily assured her that

-he should enjoy the ride, and hurried off in triumph. Miss Smeardon

-smiled an acid smile as she watched him go. "He has forgotten all

-about poor Miss Meredith, I suppose," she murmured. "Yet it was not so

-long ago that they were supposed to be all in all to each other!"

-

-"It was a foolish engagement, Miss Smeardon," said Mrs. de Tracy in a

-cold voice. "I never thought the girl was suited to Mark, and I

-understand that old Mr. Lavendar was relieved when the whole thing

-came to an end."

-

-"Quite so; certainly; no doubt Miss Meredith would never have made him

-happy," said Miss Smeardon at once, "though it is always more

-agreeable when the lady discovers the fact first. In this case she

-confessed openly that Mr. Lavendar broke her heart with his

-indifference."

-

-"She was an ill-bred young woman," said Mrs. de Tracy, as if the

-subject were now closed. "However, I hope that the son of my family

-solicitor would think it only proper to pay a certain amount of

-attention to the Admiral's niece, were she ever so obnoxious to him."

-

-Miss Smeardon made no audible reply, but her thoughts were to the

-effect that never was an obnoxious duty performed by any man with a

-better grace.

-

-The sea front at Weston was the most prosaic scene in the world, a

-long esplanade with an asphalt path running its full length, and ugly

-jerrybuilt houses glaring out upon it, a gimcrack pier with a

-gingerbread sort of band-stand and glass house at the end;--all that

-could have been done to ruin nature had been determinedly done there.

-But you cannot ruin a spring day, nor youth, nor the colour of the

-sea. Along the level shore, the placid waves swept and broke, and then

-gathered up their white skirts, and retreated to return with the same

-musical laugh. Children and dogs played about on the wet sands. The

-wind blew freshly and the sea stretched all one pure blue, till it met

-on the horizon with the bluer skies.

-

-Weston seemed to Lavendar a very fresh and delightful spot at

-that moment, although had he been in a different mood its sordidness

-only would have struck him. Yes, there they were in the distance;

-he knew Robinette's white dress and the figure of the boy beside

-her. Hang that boy! Were they really going to buy hairpins? If

-so, then a hair-dresser's he must find. Lavendar turned up the

-little street that led from the sea-front, scanning all the

-signs--Boots--Dairies--Vegetable shops--Heavens! were there

-nothing but vegetable and boot shops in Weston? Boots again. At last

-a Hairdresser; Lavendar stood in the doorway until he made sure

-that Robinette and the middy had turned in that direction, and

-then he boldly entered the shop.

-

-To his horror he found himself confronted by a smiling young woman,

-whose own very marvellous erection of hair made him think she must be

-used as an advertisement for the goods she supplied.

-

-In another moment Robinette and the boy would be upon him, and he must

-be found deep in fictitious business. He cast one agonized glance at

-the mysteries of the toilet that surrounded him on every side, then

-clearing his throat, he said modestly but firmly, that he wanted to

-buy a pair of curling tongs for a lady.

-

-"These are the thing if you wish a Marcel wave," was the reply, "but

-just for an ordinary crimp we sell a good many of the plain ones."

-

-"Yes, thank you. They will do; the lady--my sister, also wished--"

-

-"A little 'addition,' was it, sir?" she moved smilingly to a drawer.

-"A few pin curls are very easily adjusted, or would our guinea

-switch--"

-

-At this moment the boy and Robinette entered the shop. Lavendar was

-paying for the curling tongs, and not a muscle of his face relaxed.

-"Oh, here you are. I have just finished my business," he said, turning

-round, "I thought we might encounter one another somewhere!"

-

-Robinette and Carnaby exchanged knowing glances of which Lavendar was

-perfectly conscious, but he stood by while Mrs. Loring bought her

-hairpins, and Carnaby endeavoured to persuade her to invest in a few

-"pin curls." "Not an hour before it is absolutely necessary, Middy

-dear," she said; "then I shall bear it as bravely as I can. Come now,

-carry the hairpins for me, and let me take Mr. Lavendar out of this

-shop, or he will be tempted to buy more than he needs."

-

-"Oh, no!" Lavendar remarked pointedly. "I have what I came for!"

-

-"Don't forget your parcel," Carnaby exclaimed, darting after Lavendar

-as they went into the street. "You've left it on the counter."

-

-"How careless!" said Mark. "It was for my sister."

-

-"You never told me you had a sister," said Robinette, as they walked

-together, Lavendar wheeling his bicycle and Carnaby sulking behind

-them.

-

-"I am blessed with two; one married now; the other, my sister Amy,

-lives at home."

-

-"Well, you see, in spite of all our questions the first time we met,

-we really know very little about each other," she went on lightly. "It

-takes such a long time to get thoroughly acquainted in this country.

-Do they ever count you a friend if you do not know all their aunts and

-second cousins?"

-

-Lavendar laughed. "Willingly would I introduce you to my aunts and my

-uttermost cousins, and lay the map of my life before you, uneventful

-as it has been, if that would further our acquaintance."

-

-Even as he spoke a hateful memory darted into his thoughts, and he

-reddened to his temples, until Mrs. Loring wondered if she had said

-anything to annoy him.

-

-Some fortunate accident at this point ordered that Carnaby should

-meet a friend, another middy about his own age, and they set off

-together in quest of a third boy who was supposed to be in the near

-neighbourhood.

-

-As soon as the lads were out of sight Lavendar found the jests they

-had been bandying together die on his lips. "I'm going down deeper; I

-shall be out of my depth very soon," he thought to himself, as he

-walked in silence by Robinette's side.

-

-"Let us come down to the beach again; we can't go to the station for

-half an hour yet," she said. "I like to look out to sea, and realize

-that if I sailed long enough I could step off that pier, and arrive in

-America."

-

-They stood by the sea-wall together with the fresh wind playing on

-their faces. "Isn't it curious," said Robinette, "how instinctively

-one always turns to look at the sea; inland may be ever so lovely, but

-if the sea is there we generally look in that direction."

-

-"Because it is unbounded, like the future," said Lavendar. He was

-looking as he spoke at some children playing on the sands just

-beside them. There was a gallant little boy among them with a bare

-curly head, who refused help from older sisters and was toiling away

-at his sand castle, his whole soul in his work; throwing up

-spadefuls--tremendous ones for four years old--upon its ramparts,

-as if certain they could resist the advancing tide.

-

-"What a noble little fellow!" exclaimed Robinette, catching the

-direction of Lavendar's glance. "Isn't he splendid? toiling like that;

-stumping about on those fat brown legs!"

-

-"How beautiful to have a child like that, of one's own!" thought

-Lavendar as he looked. On the sands around them, there were numbers of

-such children playing there in the sun. It seemed a happy world to him

-at the moment.

-

-Suddenly he saw his companion turn quickly aside; a nurse in uniform

-came towards them pushing, not a happy crooning baby this time, but a

-little emaciated wisp of a child lying back wearily in a wheel chair.

-Something in Robinette's face, or perhaps the bit of fluttering lace

-she wore upon her white dress, had attracted its notice, and it

-stretched out two tiny skeleton hands towards her as it passed. With a

-quick gesture, brushing tears away that in a moment had rushed to her

-eyes, young Mrs. Loring stepped forward, and put her fingers into the

-wasted hands that were held out to her. She hung above the child for a

-moment, a radiant figure, her face shining with sympathy and a sort of

-heavenly kindness; her eyes the sweeter for their tears.

-

-"What is it, darling?" she asked. "Oh, it's the bright rose!" Then she

-hurriedly unfastened the flower from her waist-belt and turned to

-Lavendar. "Will you please take your penknife and scrape away all the

-little thorns," she asked.

-

-"The rose looked very charming where it was," he remarked, half

-regretfully, as he did what she commanded.

-

-"It will look better still, presently," she answered.

-

-The child's hands were outstretched longingly to grasp the flower, its

-eyes, unnaturally deep and wise with pain, were fixed upon Robinette's

-face. She bent over the chair, and her voice was like a dove's voice,

-Lavendar thought, as she spoke. Then the little melancholy carriage

-was wheeled away. Motherhood always seemed the most sacred, the

-supreme experience to Robinette; a thing high and beautiful like the

-topmost blooms of Nurse Prettyman's plum tree. "If one had to choose

-between that sturdy boy and this wistful wraith, it would be hard,"

-she thought. "All my pride would run out to the boy, but I could die

-for love and pity if this suffering baby were mine!"

-

-Lavendar had turned, and leaned on the wall with averted face. "Sweet

-woman!" he was saying to himself. "It is more than a merry heart that

-is able to give such sympathy; it's a sad old world after all where

-such things can be; but a woman like that can bring good out of

-evil."

-

-Robinette had seated herself on a low wall beside him. Her little

-embroidered futility of a handkerchief was in her hand once more. "A

-rose and a smile! that's all we could give it," she said; "and we

-would either of us share some of that burden if we only could." She

-watched the merry, healthy children playing beside them, and added,

-"After all let us comfort ourselves that brown cheeks and fat legs are

-in the majority. Rightness somehow or other must be at the root of

-things, or we shouldn't be a living world at all."

-

-"Amen," said Lavendar, "but the sight of suffering innocents like

-that, sometimes makes me wish I were dead."

-

-"Dead!" she echoed. "Why, it makes me wish for a hundred lives, a

-hundred hearts and hands to feel with and help with."

-

-"Ah, some women are made that way. My stepmother, the only mother I've

-known, was like that," Lavendar went on, dropping suddenly again into

-personal talk, as they had done before. He and she, it seemed, could

-not keep barriers between them very long; every hour they spent

-together brought them more strangely into knowledge of each other's

-past.

-

-"She was a fine woman," he went on, "with a certain comfortable

-breadth about her, of mind and body; and those large, warm, capable

-hands that seem so fitted to lift burdens."

-

-Lavendar was in an absent-minded mood, and never much given to noting

-details at any time. He bent over on the low wall in retrospective

-silence, looking at the blue sea before them.

-

-Robinette, who was perched beside him, spread her two small hands on

-her white serge knees and regarded them fixedly for a moment.

-

-"I wonder if it's a matter of size," she said after a moment. "I

-wonder! Let's be confidential. When I was a little girl we were not at

-all well-to-do, and my hands were very busy. My father's success came

-to him only two or three years before his death, when his reputation

-began to grow and his plans for great public buildings began to be

-accepted, so I was my mother's helper. We had but one servant, and I

-learned to make beds, to dust, to wipe dishes, to make tea and coffee,

-and to cook simple dishes. If Admiral de Tracy's sister had to work,

-Admiral de Tracy's niece was certainly going to help! Later on came my

-father's illness and death. We had plenty of servants then, but my

-hands had learned to be busy. I gave him his medicines, I changed his

-pillows, I opened his letters and answered such of them as were within

-my powers, I fanned him, I stroked his aching head. The end came, and

-mother and I had hardly begun to take hold of life again when her

-health failed. I wasn't enough for her; she needed father and her face

-was bent towards him. My hands were busy again for months, and they

-held my mother's when she died. Time went on. Then I began again to

-make a home out of a house; to use my strength and time as a good wife

-should, for the comfort of her husband; but oh! so faultily, for I was

-all too young and inexperienced. It was only for a few months, then

-death came into my life for the third time, and I was less than

-twenty. For the first time since I can remember, my hands are idle,

-but it will not be for long. I want them to be busy always. I want

-them to be full! I want them to be tired! I want them ready to do the

-tasks my head and heart suggest."

-

-Lavendar had a strong desire to take those same hands in his and kiss

-them, but instead he rose and spread out his own long brown fingers on

-the edge of the wall, a man's hands, fine and supple, but meant to

-work.

-

-"I seem to have done nothing," he exclaimed. "You look so young, so

-irresponsible, so like a bird on a bough, that I cannot associate dull

-care with you, yet you have lived more deeply than I. Life seems to

-have touched me on the shoulder and passed me by; these hands of mine

-have never done a real day's work, Mrs. Loring, for they've been the

-servants of an unwilling brain. I hated my own work as a younger man,

-and, though I hope I did not shirk it, I certainly did nothing that I

-could avoid." He paused, and went on slowly, "I've thought sometimes,

-of late I mean, that if life is to be worth much, if it is to be real

-life, and not mere existence, one must put one's whole heart into it,

-and that two people--" He stopped; he was silent with embarrassment,

-conscious of having said too much.

-

-"Can help each other. Indeed they can," Mrs. Loring went on serenely,

-"if they have the same ideals. Hardly anyone, fortunately, is so alone

-as I, and so I have to help myself! Your sisters, now; don't they

-help?"

-

-"Not a great deal," Lavendar confessed. "One would, but she's married

-and in India, worse luck! The other is--well, she's a candid sister."

-He laughed, and looked up. "If my best friend could hear my sister

-Amy's view of me, just have a little sketch of me by Amy without fear

-or favour, he, or she, would never have a very high opinion of me

-again, and I am not sure but that I should agree with her."

-

-"Nonsense! my dear friend," exclaimed Robinette in a maternal tone she

-sometimes affected,--a tone fairly agonizing to Mark Lavendar; "we

-should never belittle the stuff that's been put into us! My equipment

-isn't particularly large, but I am going to squeeze every ounce of

-power from it before I die."

-

-"Life is extraordinarily interesting to you, isn't it?"

-

-"Interesting? It is thrilling! So will it be to you when you make up

-your mind to squeeze it," said Robinette, jumping off the wall. "There

-is Carnaby signalling; it is time we went to the station."

-

-"Life would thrill me considerably more if Carnaby were not eternally

-in evidence," said Lavendar, but Robinette pretended not to hear.

-

-

-

-

-XII

-

-LOVE IN THE MUD

-

-

-The next day Robinette was once more sitting in the boat opposite to

-Lavendar as he rowed. They were going down the river this time, not

-across it. Somehow they had managed that afternoon to get out by

-themselves, which sounds very simple, but is a wonderfully difficult

-thing to accomplish when there is no special reason for it, and when

-there are several other people in the house.

-

-Fortunately Mrs. de Tracy did not like to be alone, so that wherever

-she went Miss Smeardon had to go too, and there happened to be a sale

-of work at a neighbouring vicarage that afternoon where she considered

-her presence a necessity. Robinette had vanished soon after luncheon

-and the middy had been dull, so after loitering around for a while, he

-too had disappeared upon some errand of his own. Lavendar walked very

-slowly toward the avenue gateway, then he turned and came back. He

-could scarcely believe his good fortune when he saw Mrs. Loring come

-out of the house, and pause at the door as if uncertain of her next

-movements. She looked uncommonly lovely in a white frock with touches

-of blue, while the ribbon in her hair brought out all its gold. She

-wore a flowery garden hat, and a pair of dainty most un-English shoes

-peeped from beneath her short skirt.

-

-"Are you going out, or can I take you on the river?" Lavendar asked,

-trying without much success to conceal the eagerness that showed in

-his voice and eyes.

-

-Robinette stood for a moment looking at him (it seemed as if she read

-him like a book) and then she said frankly, "Why yes, there is nothing

-I should like so much, but where is Carnaby?"

-

-"Hang Carnaby! I mean I don't know, or care. I've had too much of his

-society to-day to be pining for it now."

-

-"Well, he does chatter like a magpie, but I feel he must have such a

-dull time here with no one anywhere near his own age. Elderly as I am,

-I seem a bit nearer than Aunt de Tracy or Miss Smeardon. Aunt de

-Tracy, all the same, will never understand my relations with that boy,

-or with anyone else for that matter. I did try so hard," she went on,

-"when I first arrived, just to strike the right note with her, and

-I've missed it all the time, by that very fact, no doubt. I'm so

-unused to trying--at home."

-

-"You mean in America?"

-

-"Yes, of course; I don't try there at all, and yet my friends seem to

-understand me."

-

-"Does it seem to you that you could ever call England 'home'?"

-

-"I could not have believed that England would so sink into my heart,"

-she said, sitting down in the doorway and arranging the flowers on her

-hat. "During those first dull wet days when I was still a stranger,

-and when I looked out all the time at the dripping cedars, and felt

-whenever I opened my lips that I said the wrong thing, it seemed to me

-I should never be gay for an hour in this country; but the last

-enchanting sunny days have changed all that. I remember it's my

-mother's country, and if only I could have found a little affection

-waiting for me, all would have been perfect."

-

-"You may find it yet." Lavendar could not for the life of him help

-saying the words, but there was nothing in the tone in which he said

-them to make Robinette conscious of his meaning.

-

-"I'm afraid not," she sighed, thinking of Mrs. de Tracy's indifference.

-"I'm much more American than English, much more my father's daughter

-than the Admiral's niece; perhaps my aunt feels that instinctively. Now

-I must slip upstairs and change if we are going boating."

-

-"Never!" cried Lavendar. "If I don't snatch you this moment from the

-devouring crowd I shall lose you! I will keep you safe and dry, never

-fear, and we shall be back well before dark."

-

-They went down the river after leaving the little pier, passing the

-orchards heaped on the hillsides above Wittisham, and Lavendar wanted

-to row out to sea, but Robinette preferred the river; so he rowed

-nearer to the shore, where the current was less swift, and the boat

-rocked and drifted with scarcely a touch of the oars. They had talked

-for some time, and then a silence had fallen, which Robinette broke by

-saying, "I half wish you'd forsake the law and follow lines of lesser

-resistance, Mr. Lavendar. Do you know, you seem to me to be drifting,

-not rowing! I've been thinking ever since of what you said to me on

-the sands at Weston."

-

-"Ungrateful woman!" he exclaimed, trying to evade the subject, "when

-these two faithful arms have been at your service every day since we

-first met! Think of the pennies you would have taken from that tiny

-gold purse of yours for the public ferry! However, I know what you

-mean; I never met anyone so plain-spoken as you, Mrs. Robin; I haven't

-forgotten, I assure you!"

-

-"How about the candid sister? Isn't she plain-spoken?"

-

-"Oh, she attacks the outside of the cup and platter; you question

-motive power and ideals. Well, I confess I have less of the former

-than I ought, and more of the latter than I've ever used." Lavendar

-had rested on his oars now and was looking down, so that the twinkle

-of his eyes was lost. "I suppose I shall go on as I have done

-hitherto, doing my work in a sort of a way, and getting a certain

-amount of pleasure out of things,--unless--"

-

-"Oh, but that's not living!" she exclaimed; "that's only existing.

-Don't you remember:--

-

-                   It is not growing like a tree

-                   In bulk doth make man better be.

-

-It's really _living_ I mean, forgetting the things that are behind,

-and going on and on to something ahead, whatever one's aim may be."

-

-"What are you going to do with yourself, if I may ask?" said Lavendar.

-"Don't be too philanthropic, will you? You're so delightfully

-symmetrical now!"

-

-"I shall have plenty to do," cried Robinette ardently. "I've told you

-before, I have so much motive power that I don't know how to use it."

-

-"How about sharing a little of it with a friend!"

-

-Lavendar's voice was full of meaning, but Robinette refused to hear

-it. She had succumbed as quickly to his charm as he to hers, but while

-she still had command over her heart she did not intend parting with

-it unless she could give it wholly. She knew enough of her own nature

-to recognize that she longed for a rowing, not a drifting mate, and

-that nothing else would content her; but her instinct urged that

-Lavendar's indecisions and his uncertainties of aim were accidents

-rather than temperamental weaknesses. She suspected that his

-introspective moods and his occasional lack of spirits had a definite

-cause unknown to her.

-

-"I haven't a large income," she said, after a moment's silence,

-changing the subject arbitrarily, and thereby reducing her companion

-to a temporary state of silent rage.

-

-"Yet no one would expect a woman like this to fall like a ripe plum

-into a man's mouth," he thought presently; "she will drop only when

-she has quite made up her mind, and the bough will need a good deal of

-shaking!"

-

-"I haven't a large income," repeated Robinette, while Lavendar was

-silent, "only five thousand dollars a year, which is of course

-microscopic from the American standpoint and cost of living; so I

-can't build free libraries and swimming baths and playgrounds, or do

-any big splendid things; but I can do dear little nice ones, left

-undone by city governments and by the millionaires. I can sing, and

-read, and study; I can travel; and there are always people needing

-something wherever you are, if you have eyes to see them; one needn't

-live a useless life even if one hasn't any responsibilities. But"--she

-paused--"I've been talking all this time about my own plans and

-ambitions, and I began by asking yours! Isn't it strange that the

-moment one feels conscious of friendship, one begins to want to know

-things?"

-

-"My sister Amy would tell you I had no ambitions, except to buy as

-many books as I wish, and not to have to work too hard," said Mark

-smiling, "but I think that would not be quite true. I have some, of a

-dull inferior kind, not beautiful ones like yours."

-

-"Do tell me what they are."

-

-He shook his head. "I couldn't; they're not for show; shabby things

-like unsuccessful poor relations, who would rather not have too much

-notice taken of them. In a few weeks I am going to drag them out of

-their retreat, brighten them up, inject some poetry into their veins,

-and then display them to your critical judgment."

-

-They were almost at a standstill now and neither of them was noticing

-it at all. As Mrs. Loring moved her seat the boat lurched somewhat to

-one side. Mark, to steady her, placed his hand over hers as it rested

-on the rail, and she did not withdraw it. Then he found the other hand

-that lay upon her knee, and took it in his own, scarcely knowing what

-he did. He looked into her face and found no anger there. "I wish to

-tell you more about myself," he stammered, "something not altogether

-creditable to me; but perhaps you will understand. Perhaps even if you

-don't understand you will forgive."

-

-She drew her hands gently away from his grasp. "I shall try to

-understand, you may rely on that!" she said.

-

-"I'm not going to trouble you with any very dreadful confessions," he

-said, "only it's better to hear things directly from the people

-concerned, and you are sure to hear a wrong version sooner or

-later."--Then stopping suddenly he exclaimed, "Hullo! we're stuck, I

-declare! look at that!"

-

-Robinette turned and saw that their boat was now scarcely surrounded

-with water at all. On every side, as if the flanks of some great whale

-were upheaving from below, there appeared stretches of glistening mud.

-Just in front of them, where there still was a channel of water, was

-an upstanding rock. "Shall we row quickly there?" she cried. "Then

-perhaps we can get out and pull the boat to the other side, where

-there is more water. What has happened?"

-

-"Oh, something not unusual," said Lavendar grimly, "that I'm a fool,

-and the sea-tide has ebbed, as tides have been known to do before. I'm

-afraid a man doesn't watch tides when he has a companion like you! Now

-we're left high, but not at all dry, as you see, till the tide

-turns."

-

-By a swift stroke or two he managed to propel their craft as far as

-the rock. They scrambled up on it, and then he tried to haul the boat

-around the miniature islet; but the more he hauled, the quicker the

-water seemed to run away, and the deeper the wretched thing stuck in

-the mud. He jumped in again, and made an effort to push her off with

-an oar; meanwhile Robinette nearly fell off the rock in her efforts to

-get the head of the boat around towards the current again, and making

-a frantic plunge into the ooze, sank above her ankles in an instant.

-Lavendar caught hold of her and helped her to scramble back into the

-boat. "It's all right; only my skirt wet, and one shoe gone!" she

-panted. "Now, what are we to do?" She spread out her hands in dismay,

-and looked down at her draggled mud-stained skirt, her little feet,

-one shoeless and both covered with mud and slime. "What an object I

-shall be to meet Aunt de Tracy's eye, when, if ever, it does light on

-me again! Meanwhile it seems as if we might be here for some hours.

-The boat is just settling herself into the mud bank, like a rather

-tired fat old woman into an armchair, and pray, Mr. Lavendar, what do

-you propose to do? as Talleyrand said to the lady who told him she

-couldn't bear it."

-

-Lavendar looked about them; the main bed of the river was fifty yards

-away; between it and them was now only an expanse of mud.

-

-"It's perfectly hopeless," he said, "the best thing we can do is to

-beget some philosophy."

-

-"Which at any moment we would exchange for a foot of water," she

-interpolated.

-

-"We must just sit here and wait for the tide. Shall it be in the boat

-or on the rock?"

-

-"I don't see much difference, do you? Except that the passing boats,

-if there are any, might think it was a matter of choice to sit on a

-damp rock for two hours, but no one could think we wanted to sit in a

-boat in the mud."

-

-They landed on the rock for the second time. "For my part it's no

-great punishment," said Lavendar, when they settled themselves, "since

-the place is big enough for two and you're one of them!"

-

-"Wouldn't this be as good a stool of repentance from which to confess

-your faults as any?" asked Robinette, as she tucked her shoeless foot

-beneath her mud-stained skirt and made herself as comfortable as

-possible. "I'll even offer a return of confidence upon my own

-weaknesses, if I can find them, but at present only miles of virtue

-stretch behind me. Ugh! How the mud smells; quite penitential! Now:--

-

-            "What have you sought you should have shunned,

-            And into what new follies run?"

-

-"Oh, what a bad rhyme!" said Lavendar.

-

-"It's Pythagoras, any way," she explained.

-

-Then suddenly changing his tone, Lavendar went on. "This is not merely

-a jest, Mrs. Loring. Before you admit me really amongst the number of

-your friends I should like you to know that--to put it plainly--my

-own little world would tell you at the moment that I am a heartless

-jilt."

-

-"That is a very ugly expression, Mr. Lavendar, and I shall choose not

-to believe it, until you give me your own version of the story."

-

-"In one way I can give you no other; except that I was just fool

-enough to drift into an engagement with a woman whom I did not really

-love, and just not enough of a fool to make both of us miserable for

-life when I, all too late, found out my mistake."

-

-There passed before him at that moment other foolish blithe little

-loves, like faded flowers with the sweetness gone out of them. They

-had been so innocent, so fragile, so free from blame; all but the

-last; and this last it was that threatened to rise like a shadow

-perhaps, and defeat his winning the only woman he could ever love.

-

-Robinette stared at the stretches of ooze, and then stole a look at

-Mark Lavendar. "The idea of calling that man a jilt," she thought.

-"Look at his eyes; look at his mouth; listen to his voice; there is

-truth in them all. Oh for a sight of the girl he jilted! How much it

-would explain! No, not altogether, because the careless making of his

-engagement would have to be accounted for, as well as the breaking of

-it. Unless he did it merely to oblige her--and men are such idiots

-sometimes,--then he must have fancied he was in love with her. Perhaps

-he is continually troubled with those fancies. Nonsense! you believe

-in him, and you know you do." Then aloud she said, sympathetically,

-"I'm afraid we are apt to make these little experimental journeys in

-youth, when the heart is full of _wanderlust_. We start out on them so

-lightly, then they lead nowhere, and the walking back alone is

-wearisome and depressing."

-

-"My return journey was depressing enough at first," said Lavendar,

-"because the particular She was unkinder to me than I deserved even;

-but better counsels have prevailed and I shall soon be able to meet

-the reproachful gaze of stout matrons and sour spinsters more easily

-than I have for a year past; you see the two families were friends and

-each family had a large and interested connection!"

-

-"If the opinion of a comparative stranger is of any use to you," said

-Robinette, standing on the rock and scraping her stockinged foot free

-of mud, "_I_ believe in you, personally! You don't seem a bit 'jilty'

-to me! I'd let you marry my sister to-morrow and no questions asked!"

-

-"I didn't know you had a sister," cried Lavendar.

-

-"I haven't; that's only a figure of speech; just a phrase to show my

-confidence."

-

-"And isn't it ungrateful to be obliged to say I can't marry your

-sister, after you have given me permission to ask her!"

-

-"Not only ungrateful but unreasonable," said Robinette saucily,

-turning her head to look up the river and discovering from her point

-of vantage a moving object around the curve that led her to make

-hazardous remarks, knowing rescue was not far away. "What have you

-against my sister, pray?"

-

-"Very little!" he said daringly, knowing well that she held him in her

-hand, and could make him dumb or let him speak at any moment she

-desired. "Almost nothing! only that _she_ is not offering me _her_

-sister as a balm to my woes."

-

-"She _has_ no sister; she is an only child!--There! there!" cried

-Robinette, "the tide is coming up again, and the mud banks off in that

-direction are all covered with water! I see somebody in a boat, rowing

-towards us with superhuman energy. Oh! if I hadn't worn a white dress!

-It will _not_ come smooth; and my lovely French hat is ruined by the

-dampness! My one shoe shows how inappropriately I was shod, and

-whoever is coming will say it is because I am an American. He will

-never know you wouldn't let me go upstairs and dress properly."

-

-"It doesn't matter anyway," rejoined Mark, "because it is only Carnaby

-coming. You might know he would find us even if we were at the bottom

-of the river."

-

-

-

-

-XIII

-

-CARNABY TO THE RESCUE

-

-

-At Stoke Revel, in the meantime, the solemn rites of dinner had been

-inaugurated as usual by the sounding of the gong at seven o'clock.

-Mrs. de Tracy, Miss Smeardon, and Bates waited five minutes in silent

-resignation, then Carnaby came down and was scolded for being late,

-but there was no Robinette and no Lavendar.

-

-"Carnaby," said his grandmother, "do you know where Mark intended

-going this afternoon?"

-

-"No, I don't," said Carnaby, sulkily.

-

-"Your cousin Robinetta,"--with meaning,--"perhaps you know her

-whereabouts?"

-

-"Not I!" replied Carnaby with affected nonchalance. "I was ferreting

-with Wilson." He had ferreted perhaps for fifteen minutes and then

-spent the rest of the afternoon in solitary discontent, but he would

-not have owned it for the world.

-

-"Call Bates," commanded Mrs. de Tracy. Bates entered. "Do you know if

-Mr. Lavendar intended going any distance to-day? Did he leave any

-message?"

-

-"Mr. Lavendar, ma'am," said Bates, "Mr. Lavendar and Mrs. Loring they

-went out in the boat after tea. Mr. Lavendar asked William for the

-key, and William he went down and got out the oars and rudder,

-ma'am."

-

-"Does William know where they went?" asked Mrs. de Tracy in high

-displeasure. "Was it to Wittisham?"

-

-"No, ma'am, William says they went down stream. He thinks perhaps they

-were going to the Flag Rock, and he says the gentleman wouldn't have a

-hard pull, as the tide was going out. But Mr. Lavendar knows the river

-well, ma'am, as well as Mr. Carnaby here."

-

-"Then I conclude there is no immediate cause for anxiety," said Mrs.

-de Tracy with satire. "You can serve dinner, Bates; there seems no

-reason why we should fast as yet! However, Carnaby," she continued,

-"as the men cannot be spared at this hour, you had better go at once

-and see what has happened to our guests."

-

-"Right you are," cried Carnaby with the utmost alacrity. He was

-hungry, but the prospect of escape was better than food. He rushed

-away, and his boat was in mid-river before Mrs. de Tracy and Miss

-Smeardon had finished their tepid soup.

-

-A very slim young moon was just rising above the woods, but her tender

-light cast no shadows as yet, and there were no stars in the sky, for

-it was daylight still. The evening air was very fresh and cool; there

-was no wind, and the edges of the river were motionless and smooth,

-although in mid-stream the now in-coming tide clucked and swirled as

-it met the rush. Over at Wittisham one or two lights were beginning to

-twinkle, and there came drifting across the water a smell of wood

-smoke that suggested evening fires. Carnaby handled a boat well, for

-he had been born a sailor, as it were, and his long, powerful strokes

-took him along at a fine pace. But although he was going to look for

-Robinette and Mark, he was rather angry with both of them, and in no

-hurry. He rested on his oars indifferently and let the tide carry him

-up as it liked, while, with infinite zest, he unearthed a cigarette

-case from the recesses of his person, lit a cigarette, and smoked it

-coolly. Under Carnaby's apparent boyishness, there was a certain

-somewhat dangerous quality of precocity, which was stimulated rather

-than checked by his grandmother's repressive system. His smoking now

-was less the monkey-trick of a boy, than an act of slightly cynical

-defiance. He was no novice in the art, and smoked slowly and daintily,

-throwing back his head and blowing the smoke sometimes through his

-lips and sometimes through his nose. He looked for the moment older

-than his years, and a difficult young customer at that. His present

-sulky expression disappeared, however, under the influence of tobacco

-and adventure.

-

-"Where the dickens are they?" he began to wonder, pulling harder.

-

-A bend in the river presently solved the mystery. On a wide stretch of

-mud-bank, which the tide had left bare in going out, but was now

-beginning to cover again, a solitary boat was stranded.

-

-With this clue to guide him, Carnaby's bright eyes soon discovered the

-two dim forms in the distance.

-

-"Ahoy!" he shouted, and received a joyous answer. Robinette and Mark

-were the two derelicts, and their rescuer skimmed towards them with

-all his strength.

-

-He could get only within a few yards of the rock to which their boat

-was tied, and from that distance he surveyed them, expecting to find a

-dismal, ship-wrecked pair, very much ashamed of themselves and

-getting quite weary of each other. On the contrary the faces he could

-just distinguish in the uncertain light, were radiant, and Robinette's

-voice was as gay as ever he had heard it. He leaned upon his oars and

-looked at them with wonder.

-

-"Angel cousin!" cried Robinette. "Have you a little roast mutton about

-you somewhere, we are so hungry!"

-

-"You _are_ a pretty pair!" he remarked. "What have you been and

-done?"

-

-"We just went for a row after tea, Middy dear," said Robinette, "and

-look at the result."

-

-"You're not rowing now," observed Carnaby pointedly.

-

-"No," said Mark, "we gave up rowing when the water left us, Carnaby.

-Conversation is more interesting in the mud."

-

-"But how did you get here? I thought you were going to the Flag Rock?"

-demanded Carnaby.

-

-"Is there a Flag Rock, Middy dear? I didn't know," said Robinette

-innocently. "It shows we shouldn't go anywhere without our first

-cousin once removed. We just began to talk, here in the boat, and the

-water went away and left us." Then she laughed, and Mark laughed too,

-and Carnaby's look of unutterable scorn seemed to have no effect upon

-them. They might almost have been laughing at him, their mirth was so

-senseless, viewed in any other light.

-

-"It's nearly eight o'clock," he said solemnly. "Perhaps you can form

-some idea as to what grandmother's saying, and Bates."

-

-"Well, you're going to be our rescuer, Middy darling, so it doesn't

-matter," said Robinette. "Look! the water's coming up."

-

-But Carnaby seemed in no mood for waiting. He had taken off his boots,

-and rolled up his trousers above his knees.

-

-"I'd let Lavendar wade ashore the best way he could!" he said, "but I

-s'pose I've got to save you or there'd be a howl."

-

-"No one would howl any louder than you, dear, and you know it. Don't

-step in!" shrieked Robinette, "I've confided a shoe already to the

-river-mud! I just put my foot in a bit, to test it, and down the poor

-foot went and came up without its shoe. Oh, Middy dear, if your young

-life--"

-

-"Blow my young life!" retorted Carnaby. He was performing gymnastics

-on the edge of his boat, letting himself down and heaving himself up,

-by the strength of his arms. His legs were covered with mud.

-

-"No go!" he said. "It's as deep as the pit here; sometimes you can

-find a rock or a hard bit. We must just wait."

-

-They had not long to wait after all, for presently a rush of the tide

-sent the water swirling round the stranded boat, and carried Carnaby's

-craft to it.

-

-"Now it'll be all right," said he. "You push with the boat-hook, Mark,

-and I'll pull"; but it took a quarter of an hour's pushing and pulling

-to get the boat free of the mud.

-

-Except for the moon it would have been quite dark when the party

-reached the pier. They mounted the hill in some silence. It was

-difficult for Robinette to get along with her shoeless foot; Lavendar

-wanted to help her, but she demanded Carnaby's arm. He was sulking

-still. There was something he felt, but could not understand, in the

-subtle atmosphere of happiness by which the truant couple seemed to be

-surrounded; a something through which he could not reach; that seemed

-to put Robinette at a distance from him, although her shoulder touched

-his and her hand was on his arm. Growing pangs of his manhood assailed

-him, the male's jealousy of the other male. For the moment he hated

-Mark; Mark talking joyous nonsense in a way rather unlike himself, as

-if the night air had gone to his head.

-

-"I am glad you had the ferrets to amuse you this afternoon," said

-Robinette, in a propitiatory tone. "Ferrets are such darlings, aren't

-they, with their pink eyes?"

-

-"O! _darlings_," assented Carnaby derisively. "One of the darlings

-bit my finger to the bone, not that that's anything to you."

-

-"Oh! Middy dear, I am sorry!" cried Robinette. "I'd kiss the place to

-make it well, if we weren't in such a hurry!"

-

-Carnaby began to find that a dignified reserve of manner was very

-difficult to keep up. His grandmother could manage it, he reflected,

-but he would need some practice. When they came to a place where there

-were sharp stones strewn on the road, he became a mere boy again quite

-suddenly, and proposed a "queen's chair" for Robinette. And so he and

-Lavendar crossed hands, and one arm of Robinette encircled the boy's

-head, while the other just touched Lavendar's neck enough to be

-steadied by it. Their laughter frightened the sleepy birds that night.

-The demoralized remnant of a Bank Holiday party would have been,

-Lavendar observed, respectability itself in comparison with them; and

-certainly no such group had ever approached Stoke Revel before. They

-were to enter by a back door, and Carnaby was to introduce them to

-the housekeeper's room, where he undertook that Bates would feed them.

-Lavendar alone was to be ambassador to the drawing room.

-

-"The only one of us with a boot on each foot, of course we appoint him

-by a unanimous vote," said Robinette.

-

-But the chief thing that Carnaby remembered, after all, of that

-evening's adventure, was Robinette's sudden impulsive kiss as she bade

-him good-night, Lavendar standing by. She had never kissed him before,

-for all her cousinliness, but she just brushed his cool, round cheek

-to-night as if with a swan's-down puff.

-

-"That's a shabby thing to call a kiss!" said the embarrassed but

-exhilarated youth.

-

-"Stop growling, you young cub, and be grateful; half a loaf is better

-than no bread," was Lavendar's comment as he watched the draggled and

-muddy but still charming Robinette up the stairway.

-

-

-

-

-XIV

-

-THE EMPTY SHRINE

-

-

-Lavendar had discovered, much to his dismay, that he must return to

-London upon important business; it was even a matter of uncertainty

-whether his father could spare him again or would consent to his

-returning to Stoke Revel to conclude Mrs. de Tracy's arrangements

-about the sale of the land.

-

-Affairs of the heart are like thunderstorms; the atmosphere may

-sometimes seem charged with electricity, and yet circumstances, like a

-sudden wind that sweeps the clouds away before they break, may cause

-the lovers to drift apart. Or all in a moment may come thunder,

-lightning, and rain from a clear sky, and there is nothing that is apt

-to precipitate matters like an unexpected parting.

-

-When Lavendar announced that he had to leave Stoke Revel, two pairs

-of eyes, Miss Smeardon's and Carnaby's, instantly looked at Robinette

-to see how she received the news, but she only smiled at the moment.

-She was just beginning her breakfast, and like the famous Charlotte,

-"went on cutting bread and butter," without any sign of emotion.

-

-"Hurrah!" thought the boy. "Now we can have some fun, and I'll perhaps

-make her see that old Lavendar isn't the only companion in the

-world."

-

-"She minds," thought Miss Smeardon, "for she buttered that piece of

-bread on the one side a minute ago, and now she's just done it on the

-other--and eaten it too."

-

-"She doesn't care a bit," thought Lavendar. "She's not even changed

-colour; my going or staying is nothing to her; I needn't come back."

-

-He had made up his mind to return just the same, if it were at all

-possible, and he told Mrs. de Tracy so. She remarked graciously that

-he was a welcome guest at any time, and Carnaby, hearing this,

-pinched Lord Roberts till he howled like a fiend, and fled for comfort

-to his mistress's lap.

-

-"You little coward," said Carnaby, "you should be ashamed to bear the

-name of a hero."

-

-"I've mentioned to you before, Carnaby, I think, that I dislike that

-jest," said his grandmother, and Carnaby advancing to the injured

-beast said, "Yes, ma'am, and so does Bobs, doesn't he, Bobs?" reducing

-the lap-dog to paroxysms of fury. "Would it be any better if I called

-him _Kitchener_?" hissing the word into the animal's face. "Jealous,

-Bobs? Eh? _Kitchener_." This last word had a rasping sound that

-irritated the little creature more than ever; his teeth jibbered with

-anger, and Miss Smeardon had to offer him a saucer of cream before he

-could be calmed down enough for the rest of the party to hear

-themselves speak.

-

-"Had you nice letters this morning? Mine were very uninteresting,"

-Robinette remarked to Lavendar as they stood together at the doorway

-in the sunshine, while Carnaby chased the lap-dog round and round the

-lawn.

-

-"I had only two letters; one was from my sister Amy, the candid one!

-her letters are not generally exhilarating."

-

-"Oh, I know, home letters are usually enough to send one straight to

-bed with a headache! They never sound a note of hope from first to

-last; although if you had no home, but only a house, like me, with no

-one but a caretaker in it, you'd be very thankful to get them, doleful

-or not."

-

-"I doubt it," Mark answered, for Amy's letter seemed to be burning a

-hole in his pocket at that moment. He had skimmed it hurriedly

-through, but parts of it were already only too plain.

-

-When the others had gone into the house, he went off by himself, and

-jumping the low fence that divided the lawn from the fields beyond, he

-flung himself down under a tree to read it over again. Carnaby,

-spying him there, came rushing from the house, and was soon pouring

-out a tale of something that had happened somewhere, and throwing

-stones as he talked, at the birds circling about the ivied tower of

-the little church.

-

-The field was full of buttercups up to the very churchyard walls. "I

-must get away by myself for a bit," Lavendar thought. "That boy's

-chatter will drive me mad." At this point Carnaby's volatile attention

-was diverted by the sight of a gardener mounting a ladder to clear the

-sparrows' nests from the water chutes, and he jumped up in a twinkling

-to take his part in this new joy. Lavendar rose, and strolled off with

-his hands in his pockets and his bare head bent. The grass he walked

-in was a very Field of the Cloth of Gold. His shoes were gilded by the

-pollen from the buttercups, his eyes dazzled by their colour; it was a

-relief to pass through the stone archway that led into the little

-churchyard. To his spirit at that moment the chill was refreshing. He

-loitered about for a few minutes, and then seeing that the door was

-open, he entered the church, closing the door gently behind him.

-

-It was very quiet in there and even the chirping of the sparrows was

-softened into a faint twitter. Here at last was a place set apart, a

-moment of stillness when he might think things out by himself.

-

-He took out Amy's letter, smoothing it flat on the prayer books before

-him, and forced himself to read it through. The early paragraphs dealt

-with some small item of family news which in his present state of mind

-mattered to Lavendar no more than the distant chirruping of the birds,

-out there in the sunshine. "You seem determined to stay for some time

-at Stoke Revel," his sister wrote. "No doubt the pretty American is

-the attraction. She sounds charming from your description, but my dear

-man, that's all froth! How many times have I heard this sort of thing

-from you before! Remember I know everything about your former loves."

-

-"You _don't_, then," said Lavendar to himself. Down, down, down at the

-bottom of the well of the heart where truth lies, there is always some

-remembrance, generally a very little one, that can never be told to

-any confidant.

-

-"You will find out faults in Mrs. Loring presently, just like the rest

-of them," continued the pitiless writer. (Amy's handwriting was

-painfully distinct.) "I must tell you that at the Cowleys' the other

-day, I suddenly came face to face with Gertrude Meredith _and Dolly_!

-Dolly looks a good deal older already and fatter, I thought. I fear

-she is losing her looks, for her colour has become fixed, and she

-_will_ wear no collars still, although on a rather thick neck, it's

-not at all becoming. I spoke to her for about three minutes, as it was

-less awkward, when we met suddenly face to face like that. She laughed

-a good deal, and asked for you rather audaciously, I thought. They

-live near Winchester now, and since the Colonel's death are pretty

-badly off, Gertrude says. Dolly is going to Devonshire to stay with

-the Cowleys; you may meet her there any day, remember. It does seem

-incredible to me that a man of your discrimination could have been won

-by the obvious devotion of a girl like Dolly; but having given your

-word I almost think you would better have kept it, rather than suffer

-all this criticism from a host of mutual friends."

-

-Lavendar groaned aloud. He had a good memory, and with all too great

-distinctness did he now remember Dolly Meredith's laugh. How wretched

-it had all been; not a word had ever passed between them that had any

-value now. If he could have washed the thought of her forever from his

-memory, how greatly he would have rejoiced at that moment.

-

-Well, it was over; written down against him, that he had been what the

-world called a jilt and a fool; yes, certainly a fool, but not so

-great a one as to follow his folly to its ultimate conclusion, and tie

-himself for life to a woman he did not love.

-

-Lavendar was extraordinarily sensitive about the breaking of his

-engagement; partly because Miss Meredith herself, in her first rage,

-had avowed his responsibility for her blighted future, giving him no

-chance for chivalrous behaviour; partly because in all his transient

-love affairs he had easily tired of the women who inspired them. He

-seemed thirsty for love, but weary of it almost as soon as the draught

-reached his lips.

-

-And now had he a chance again?--or was it all to end in disappointment

-once more, in that cold disappointment of the heart that has received

-stones for bread? It was not entirely his own fault; he had expected

-much from life, and hitherto had received very little. But Robinette!

-

-"Let me find all her faults now," he said to himself, "or evermore

-keep silent; meantime I hope I am not concealing too many of my

-own."

-

-He tried to force himself into criticism; to look at her as a cold

-observer from the outside would have done; for that curious Border

-country of Love which he had entered has not an equable climate at

-all. It is fire and frost alternate; and criticism is either roused

-almost to a morbid pitch, or else the faculty is drugged, and nothing,

-not even the enumeration of a hundred foibles will awaken it for a

-time.

-

-When the cold fit had been upon him the evening before, Lavendar had

-said to himself that her manner was too free--that she had led him on

-too quickly; no, that expression was dishonourable and unjust; he

-repented it instantly; she had been too unself-conscious, too girlish,

-too unthinking, in what she said and did. "But she's a widow after

-all, though she's only two and twenty," he went on to himself. "Hang

-it! I wish she were not! If her heart were in her husband's grave I

-should be moaning at that; and because I see that it is not, I become

-critical. There's nothing quite perfect in life!"

-

-He had begun by noticing some little defects in her personal

-appearance, but he was long past that now; what did such trifles

-matter, here or there? Then he remembered all that he had heard said

-about American women. Did those pretty clothes of hers mean that she

-would be extravagant and selfish to obtain them? Could a young man

-with no great fortune offer her the luxury that was necessary to her?

-and even so, what changes come with time! He had a full realization of

-what the boredom of family life can be, when passion has grown stale.

-

-"At seventy, say, when I am palsied and she is old and fat, will

-romance be alive then? Will such feeling leave anything real behind it

-when it falls away, as the white blossoms on Mrs. Prettyman's plum

-tree will shrink and fall a fortnight hence?"

-

-He looked about him. On the walls of the little church were tablets

-with the de Tracy names; the names of her forefathers amongst them.

-Under his feet were other flags with names upon them too; and out

-there in the sunshine were the grave-stones of a hundred dead. How

-many of them had been happy in their loves?

-

-Not so many, he thought, if all were told, and why should he hope to

-be different? Yet surely this was a new feeling, a worthy one, at

-last. It was not for her charming person that he loved her; not

-because of her beauty and her gaiety only; but because he had seen in

-her something that gave a promise of completion to his own nature, the

-something that would satisfy not only his senses but his empty heart.

-

-He clenched his hands on the carved top of the old pew in front of

-him, which was fashioned into a laughing gnome with the body of a

-duck. "And if this should be all a dream," he asked himself again, "if

-this should all be false too! Good Lord!" he cried half aloud, "I

-want to be honest now! I want to find the truth. My whole life is on

-the throw this time!"

-

-There was a moment's silence after he had uttered the words. He got up

-and moved slowly down the aisle, opening the door, seeing again the

-meadow of buttercups, yellow as gold, and listening again to the

-sparrows chirruping in the sunshine outside.

-

-"I have been in that church a quarter of an hour," he said to himself,

-"and in trying to dive to the depths of myself and find out whether I

-was giving a woman all I had to give, I did not get time to consider

-that woman's probable answer, should I place my uninteresting life and

-liberty at her disposal."

-

-

-

-

-XV

-

-"NOW LUBIN IS AWAY"

-

-

-Lavendar made his adieux after luncheon and went off to London.

-"Good-bye for the present, Mrs. de Tracy; I shall be back on Wednesday

-probably, if I can arrange it," he said. "Good-bye, Mrs. Loring," and

-here he altered the phrase to "Shall I come back on Wednesday?" for

-his hostess had left the open door.

-

-There was no hesitation, but all too little sentiment, about

-Robinette's reply.

-

-"Wednesday, at the latest, are my orders," she answered merrily, and

-with the words ringing in his ears Lavendar took his departure.

-

-"Do you remember that this is the afternoon of the garden party at

-Revelsmere?" Mrs. de Tracy enquired, coming into the drawing room a

-few minutes later, where Mrs. Loring stood by the open window. She

-had allowed herself just five minutes of depression, staring out at

-the buttercup meadow. How black the rooks looked as they flew about it

-and how dreary everything was, now that Lavendar had gone! She was

-woman enough to be able to feel inwardly amused at her own absurdity,

-when she recognized that the ensuing three days seemed to stretch out

-into a limitless expanse of dullness. "The village seemed asleep or

-dead now Lubin was away!" Still, after all, it was an occasion for

-wearing a pretty frock, and she knew herself well enough to feel sure

-that the sight of a few of her fellow-creatures even pretending to

-enjoy themselves, would make her volatile spirits rise like the

-mercury in a thermometer on a hot day.

-

-Miss Smeardon was to be her companion, as Mrs. de Tracy had a headache

-that afternoon and was afraid of the heat, she said. "What heat?"

-Robinette had asked innocently, for in spite of the brilliant sunlight

-the wind blew from the east, keen as a knife. "I shall take a good

-wrap in the carriage in spite of this tropical temperature," she

-thought. Carnaby refused point blank to drive with them; he would

-bicycle to the party or else not go at all, so it was alone with Miss

-Smeardon that Robinette started in the heavy old landau behind the

-palsied horse.

-

-Miss Smeardon gave one glance at Mrs. Loring's dress, and Robinette

-gave one glance at Miss Smeardon's, each making her own comments.

-

-"That white cloth will go to the cleaner, I suppose, after one

-wearing, and as for that thing on her head with lilac wistaria

-drooping over the brim, it can't be meant as a covering, or a

-protection, either from sun or wind; it's nothing but an ornament!"

-Miss Smeardon commented; while to herself Robinette ejaculated,--

-

-"A penwiper, an old, much-used penwiper, is all that Miss Smeardon

-resembles in that black rag!"

-

-Carnaby, watching the start at the door, whistled in open admiration

-as Robinette came down the steps.

-

-"Well, well! we are got up to kill this afternoon; pity old Mark has

-just gone; but cheer up, Cousin Robin, there's always a curate on

-hand!"

-

-For once Robinette's ready tongue played her false, and a sense of

-loneliness overcame her at the sound of Lavendar's name. She gathered

-up her long white skirts and got into the carriage with as much

-dignity as she could muster, while Carnaby, his eyes twinkling with

-mischief, stood ready to shut the door after Miss Smeardon.

-

-"Hope you'll enjoy your drive," he jeered. "You'll need to hold on

-your hats. Bucephalus goes at such fiery speed that they'll be torn

-off your heads unless you do."

-

-"Middy dear, you're not the least amusing," said Robinette quite

-crossly, and with a lurch the carriage moved off.

-

-Miss Smeardon settled herself for conversation. "I'm afraid you will

-find me but a dull companion, Mrs. Loring," she said, glancing

-sideways at Robinette from under the brim of her mushroom hat.

-

-"Oh, you will be able to tell me who everyone is," said Robinette as

-cheerfully as she could.

-

-"I am no gossip," Miss Smeardon protested.

-

-"It isn't necessary to gossip, is it?--but I've a wholesome interest

-in my fellow creatures."

-

-"And it is well to know about people a little; when one comes among

-strangers as you do, Mrs. Loring; one can't be too careful--an

-American, particularly."

-

-Miss Smeardon's voice trailed off upon a note of insinuation; but

-Robinette took no notice of the remark. She did not seem to have

-anything to say, so Miss Smeardon took up another subject.

-

-"What a pity that Mr. Lavendar had to leave before this afternoon; he

-would have been such an addition to our party!"

-

-"Yes, wouldn't he?" Robinette agreed, though she carefully kept out of

-her voice the real passion of assent that was in her heart.

-

-"Mr. Lavendar is so agreeable, I always think," Miss Smeardon went on.

-"Everyone likes him; he almost carries his pleasant ways too far. I

-suppose that was how--" She paused, and added again, "Oh, but as I

-said, I never talk scandal!"

-

-"Do you think it's possible to be too pleasant?" Robinette remarked,

-stupidly enough, scarcely caring what she said.

-

-"Well, when it leads a poor girl to imagine that she is loved! I hear

-that Dolly Meredith is just heart-broken. The engagement kept on for

-quite a year, I believe, and then to break it off so heartlessly!--I

-was reminded of it all by coming here. Miss Meredith is a cousin of

-our hostess, and they met first at Revelsmere when they were quite

-young."

-

-"There is always a certain amount of talk when an engagement has to

-be broken off," said Robinette in a cold voice.

-

-"They seemed quite devoted at first," Miss Smeardon began; but

-Robinette interrupted her.

-

-"The sooner such things are forgotten the better, I think," she said.

-"No one, except the two people concerned, ever knows the real

-truth.--Tell me, Miss Smeardon, whom we are likely to meet at

-Revelsmere? Who is our hostess? What sort of parties does she give?"

-

-Being so firmly switched off from the affairs of Mr. Lavendar and Miss

-Meredith, it was impossible for Miss Smeardon to talk about them any

-more, and she had to turn to a less congenial theme.

-

-"We shall meet the neighbours," she told Robinette, "but I am afraid

-they may not interest you very much. I understand that in America you

-are accustomed to a great deal of the society of gentlemen. Here there

-are so few, and all of them are married."

-

-"All?" laughed Robinette.

-

-"Well, there is Mr. Finch, the curate, but he is a celibate; and young

-Mr. Tait of Strewe, but he is slightly paralysed."

-

-"Why, Carnaby must be quite an eligible bachelor in these parts," said

-Robinette; but Miss Smeardon was so deadly literal that she accepted

-the remark as a serious one.

-

-"Not quite yet; in a few years' time we shall need to be very careful,

-there are so many girls here, but not all of them desirable, of

-course."

-

-"There are? What a dull time they must have with the Married Men, the

-Celibate, the Paralytic, and Carnaby! I'm glad my girlhood wasn't

-spent in Devonshire."

-

-Conversation ended here, for the carriage rumbled up the avenue, and

-Robinette looked about her eagerly. Revelsmere was a nice old house,

-surrounded by fine sloping lawns and a background of sombre

-beechwoods. The lawns to-day were dotted with groups of people, mainly

-women, and elderly at that. As Robinette and Miss Smeardon alighted

-at the door an elderly hostess welcomed them, and an elderly host led

-them across the lawn and straightly they fell into the clutches of

-more and more elderlies.

-

-"It is fairly bewildering!" Robinette cried in her heart; then she saw

-a bevy of girls approaching; such nice-looking girls, happy, well

-dressed, but all unattended by their suitable complement of young

-men.

-

-"For whom do they dress, here? They've a deal of self-respect, I

-think, to go on getting themselves up so nicely for themselves and the

-Celibate, the Paralytic, and Carnaby," thought Robinette, as she

-watched them.

-

-Presently another couple came across the lawn; the young woman was by

-no means a girl, rather heavily built, with a high fixed colour. She

-was attended by a man. "Not the Celibate certainly," thought Mrs.

-Loring with a glance at his bullock-like figure, his thick neck, and

-glossy black hair, "nor the Paralytic; and it's not Carnaby. It must

-be a new arrival!"

-

-At that moment it began to rain, but nothing daunted, their hostess

-approached her, and saying pleasantly that she wished to introduce her

-to Miss Meredith, she left Robinette and the young woman standing

-together under a spreading tree, and took the gentleman away with

-her.

-

-The moment that she heard the name, Robinette realized who Miss

-Meredith was. They seated themselves side by side on a garden bench,

-and Miss Meredith remarked upon the heat, planting a rather fat hand

-upon the arm of the garden seat, and surveying it complacently,

-especially the very bright diamond ring upon the third finger.

-

-After a few preliminary remarks, she asked Mrs. Loring if she were

-stopping in the neighbourhood.

-

-"Yes, I am staying at Stoke Revel for a short time," Robinette

-replied; "Mrs. de Tracy is my aunt, or at least I am Admiral de

-Tracy's niece."

-

-Her companion did not seem to take the least interest in this part of

-the information, only when Stoke Revel was mentioned she looked around

-suddenly as if surprised.

-

-They talked upon indifferent subjects, while Robinette, as she watched

-Miss Meredith, was saying a good deal to herself, although she only

-spoke aloud about the weather and the Devonshire scenery.

-

-"I will be just, if I can't be generous," she thought. "She has (or

-she must once have had) a fine complexion. I dare say she is sincere

-enough; she may be sensible; she might be good-humoured,--when

-pleased."

-

-"There is going to be a shower," said Miss Meredith, "but I've nothing

-on to spoil," she added, glancing at Robinette's hat.

-

-Sitting there on the bench, hearing the spitting rain upon the water

-below them and watching the leaden mists that slowly gathered over the

-landscape, Robinette fell upon a moment of soul sickness very unusual

-to her. Miss Meredith too was silent, absorbed in her own thoughts.

-

-"If she had looked even a little different it would have been so much

-easier to explain," thought Robinette. Then suddenly she glanced up.

-She saw that her companion's face had softened, and changed. There was

-a look,--Robinette caught it just for one moment,--such as a proud

-angry child might have worn: sulky, hurt to the heart, but determined

-not to cry. Instantly a chord was struck in Robinette's soul. "She has

-suffered, anyway," she thought. "May I be forgiven for my harsh

-judgment!"

-

-With a shiver she drew her wrap about her shoulders, and Miss Meredith

-turned towards her. The expression Robinette had noticed passed from

-the high-coloured face and left it as before, self-complacent and

-slightly patronizing. "You seem to feel cold," she said. "I never do;

-which is rather unfortunate, as I'm just going out to India!"

-

-"Indeed? How soon are you going?"

-

-"In about six weeks. I'm just going to be married, and we sail

-directly afterwards," said Miss Meredith. "You saw Mr. Joyce, I think,

-when we came up together a few minutes ago?"

-

-A weight as if of a ton of lead was lifted from Robinette's heart as

-she spoke. She could scarcely refrain from jumping up to throw her

-arms about Dolly Meredith's neck and kiss her. As it was, she bubbled

-over with a kind of sympathetic interest that astonished the other

-woman. It is only too easy to lead an approaching bride to talk about

-her own affairs, for she can seldom take in the existence of even her

-nearest and dearest at such a time, and in a few minutes the two young

-women were deep in conversation. When a quarter of an hour later Miss

-Smeardon appeared to tell Robinette that they must be going, she

-looked up with a start at the sound of footsteps on the gravel path.

-"Oh, you are here, Mrs. Loring; we couldn't think where you had

-gone," said Miss Smeardon, acidly.

-

-"And here is Miss Meredith of all people!" she continued, "I thought

-you were sure to be on the tennis court, Miss Meredith; Mr. Joyce is

-playing now."

-

-"Oh, we have had such a delightful talk," said Dolly, so flushed with

-pleasure that Miss Smeardon gazed at her in astonishment.

-

-"If only I knew her well enough to send her a munificent wedding

-present! How I should love to do so; just to register my own joy,"

-said Robinette to herself. As it was she shook hands very warmly with

-Miss Meredith before they parted, and when half way across the lawn,

-looked back again, and waved her hand gaily. Miss Meredith was pacing

-the grass, and treading heavily beside her, with a very gallant air,

-was her bullock-like young man.

-

-"Mr. Joyce is quite wealthy," said Miss Smeardon. "I understand that

-he is an only son too, and will some day inherit a fine property.

-Miss Meredith is most fortunate, at her age and with her history."

-

-Robinette said nothing. She looked out at the glistening reaches of

-the river, now shining through the silver mist; at the fields yellow

-with buttercups, and the folds of the distant hills. As they drove up

-the lane to the house, the birds, refreshed by the rain, were singing

-like angels. In her heart too, something was singing as blithely as

-any bird amongst them all.

-

-"Sometimes, sometimes our mistakes do not come home to roost!" she

-thought, "but fly away and make nests elsewhere--rich nests in India

-too!"

-

-"How did you enjoy the party, Cousin Robin?" said Carnaby, who

-was waiting for them in the doorway. "I had a good tuck-in of

-strawberries. The ladies were a little young for my taste; just

-immature girls; no one under sixty, and rather frisky, don't you

-think? By the way did you see Number One and her millionaire?"

-

-"I don't know what you mean by Number One," said Robinette, haughtily,

-as she passed in at the door.

-

-"You will, when you're Number Two!" rejoined Carnaby, stooping to

-pinch Lord Roberts' tail till the hero yelped aloud.

-

-

-

-

-XVI

-

-TWO LETTERS

-

-

-Lavendar tore up his fourth sheet of paper and began afresh. "Dear

-Mrs. Loring." No, that would not do; he took another sheet, and began

-again:--

-

-"My dear Mrs. Loring,--Your commission for old Mrs. Prettyman has

-taken some little time to execute, for I had to go to two or three

-shops before finding a chair 'with green cushions, and a wide seat, so

-comfortable that it would almost act as an anaesthetic if her

-rheumatism happened to be bad, and yet quite suitable for a cottage

-room.' These were my orders, I think, and like all your orders they

-demand something better than the mere perfunctory observance. My own

-proportions differing a good deal from those of the old lady, it is

-still an open question whether what seemed comfortable to me will be

-quite the same to her. I can but hope so, and the chair will be

-dispatched at once.

-

-"London is noisy and dusty, and grimy and stuffy, and, to one man at

-least, very, very dull. A boat on Greenshaw ferry seems the only spot

-in the world where any gaiety is to be found. You can hear the cuckoos

-calling across the river as you read this, no doubt, and Carnaby is

-rendered happier than he deserves by being allowed to row you down to

-tell Mrs. Prettyman about the chair. I feel as if, like the Japanese,

-I could journey a hundred miles to worship that wonderful tree.--Don't

-let the blossoms fall until I come!

-

-"There seems a good deal of business to be done. My father unfortunately

-is no better, so he cannot come down to Stoke Revel, and I shall

-probably return upon Wednesday morning. A poem of Browning's runs in my

-head--something about three days--I can't quote exactly.

-

-"If my sister were writing this letter, she would say that I have been

-very hard to please, and uninterested in everything since I came home.

-Indeed it seems as if I were. London in this part of it, in hot

-weather, makes a man weary for green woods, a sliding river, and a

-Book of Verses underneath a Bough. Well, perhaps I shall have all of

-them by Wednesday afternoon. You will think I can do nothing but

-grumble. All the same, into what was the mere dull routine of

-uncongenial work before, your influence has come with a current of new

-energy; like the tide from the sea swelling up into the inland

-river.--I'm at it again! Rivers on the brain evidently.

-

-"I hope meanwhile that Carnaby behaves himself, and is not too much of

-a bore, and that England,--England in spring at least, is gaining a

-corner in your heart? Your mother called it home, remember. Yes, do

-try to remember that!

-

-"Did you go to the garden party? Did you walk? Did you drive? Did you

-like it? Who was there? Were you dull?"

-

-                  *       *       *       *       *

-

-There was a postscript:--

-

-"I have found the verse from Browning, 'So I shall see her in three

-days.'

-

-                                                               "M. L."

-

-                  *       *       *       *       *

-

-                                                       "Tuesday, 19th.

-

-"Dear Mr. Lavendar: First, many thanks for Nurse's armchair, which

-arrived in perfect order, and is a shining monument to your good

-taste. She does nothing but look at it, shrouding it when she retires

-to bed with an old table-cover, to protect it from the night air.

-

-"Whether she will ever make its acquaintance thoroughly enough to sit

-in it I do not know, but it will give her an enormous amount of

-pleasure. Perhaps her glow of pride in its possession does her as much

-good as the comfort she might take in its use.

-

-"Her 'rheumatics' are very painful just now, and I have a good deal to

-do with Duckie. You remember Duckie? I call her Mrs. Mackenzie, after

-that lady in The Newcomes who talked the Colonel to death. Mrs.

-Mackenzie is heavy, elderly, and strong-willed. I am acquainted with

-every bone, tendon, and sinew in her body, having to lift her into a

-coop behind the cottage where she will not wake Nurse at dawn with her

-eternal quacking. She has heretofore slept under Nurse's bedroom

-window and dislikes change of any kind. So lucky she has no offspring!

-I tremble to think of what maternal example might do in such a

-talkative family!

-

-"Stoke Revel is as it was and ever will be, world without end; only

-Aunt de Tracy is crosser than when you are here and life is not as

-gay, although Carnaby does his dear, cubbish best. If ever you

-desire your mental jewels to shine at their brightest; if ever you

-wish a tolerably good disposition to seem like that of an angel; if

-ever, in a fit of vanity, you would like to appear as a blend of

-Apollo, Lancelot, Demosthenes, Prince Charlie, Ajax, and Solomon,

-just fly to Stoke Revel and become part of the household. Assume

-nothing; simply appear, and the surroundings will do the rest; like

-the penny-in-the-slot arrangements. Seen upon a background of Bates,

-William, Benson, Big Cummins, the Curate, Miss Smeardon, and may I

-dare to add, the lady of the Manor herself,--any living breathing

-man takes on an Olympian majesty. I shouldn't miss you in Boston

-nor in London; perhaps even in Weston I might find a wretched

-substitute, but here you are priceless!

-

-"I have some news for you. On Saturday Miss Smeardon and I went to a

-garden party. That was what it was called. The thermometer was only

-slightly below zero when we started, and that luminary masquerading as

-the sun was pretending to shine. Soon after we arrived at the festive

-scene, there were gusts of wind and rain. I sought the shelter of a

-spreading tree, the kitchen fire not being available, and I was joined

-there by the hostess, who presented her niece, your Miss Meredith.

-

-"Dear Mr. Lavendar, this is a subject we cannot write about, you and

-I. I am loyal to my sex, and what Miss Meredith said, and looked, and

-did, are all as sacred to me as they ought to be. I only want to tell

-you that she is happy; that she has this very week become engaged, and

-is going to India with her husband in a month. Now that little

-cankerworm, that has been gnawing at your roots of life for the last

-year or two, has done its worst, and you are perfectly free to go and

-make other mistakes. I only hope you'll get 'scot free' from those,

-too, for I don't like to see nice men burn their fingers. We became

-such good friends huddled up in that boat when we were stuck in the

-mud--Ugh! I can smell it now!--that I am glad to be the first to send

-you pleasant news.

-

-                                             "Sincerely yours,

-                                                 "ROBINETTA LORING."

-

-

-

-

-XVII

-

-MRS. DE TRACY CROSSES THE FERRY

-

-

-Lavendar's blunt refusal, except under certain conditions, to

-announce to Mrs. Prettyman her coming ejection from the cottage at

-Wittisham, was unprofessional enough, as he himself felt; but it

-was final and categorical. Conveying as it did a sort of tacit

-remonstrance, this refusal had an unfortunate effect, for it only

-served to rouse Mrs. de Tracy's formidable obstinacy. She had

-seized upon one point only in their numberless and wearisome

-discussions of the matter: Mrs. Prettyman had no legal claim upon

-Stoke Revel. To give her compensation for the plum tree would be to

-allow that she had; to create a precedent highly dangerous under the

-circumstances. How could one refuse to other old women or old men

-leaving their cottages what one had weakly granted to her? The

-demands would be unceasing, the trouble endless. So arguing, Mrs. de

-Tracy soon brought herself to a state of determination bordering on a

-sort of mania. She was old, and in exaggerated harshness her life was

-retreating as it were into its last stronghold, at bay.

-

-As good as her word, for she had vowed she would warn Mrs. Prettyman

-herself, and she was never one to procrastinate, the lady of the Manor

-proceeded to plan her visit to Wittisham. She had not crossed the

-river for years. Wittisham, one of the loveliest villages in England,

-perhaps, though little known, was a thorn in her side, as it would

-have been in that of any other landlord with empty pockets.

-

-What you could not deal with to your own advantage, it was better to

-ignore, and on this autocratic principle, Mrs. de Tracy had left

-Wittisham to itself.

-

-But now the boat carried her there, alone and fierce--_thrawn_, as

-the Scotch say--bent upon a course of conduct that she knew would

-hold her up to the hatred of every right-thinking person of her

-acquaintance, and bitterly triumphant in the knowledge. The

-meanness of her errand never struck her. On the contrary, she would

-have argued it was one well worthy of her, a part of the scheme in

-the consummation of which she had spent her married life and her whole

-indomitable energy, losing actually her own identity in the process,

-and becoming an inexorable machine. That scheme was the holding

-together of Stoke Revel for the de Tracys, the maintenance of family

-dignity and power, the pre-eminence of a race that had always ruled.

-The river beneath her, carrying her to the fulfilment of her duty,

-the noble river, widening to the sea, subject to its tides and made

-turbulent by its storms, typified to Mrs. de Tracy only the

-greatness of Stoke Revel. From its banks the de Tracys had sent out,

-generation after generation, men who had commanded fleets, who

-had upheld the national honour upon the farthest seas, very often at

-the cost of life. There was no sacrifice of herself at which Mrs.

-de Tracy would have hesitated in upholding this ideal, no sacrifice

-of others, either. What was Lizzie Prettyman in comparison? A bag

-of old bones, fit for nothing but the workhouse!

-

-"A little faster, William," said the widow, sitting upright in the

-stern, and William the footman bent to his oars, the beads of

-perspiration standing on his brow. When Mrs. de Tracy stepped out upon

-the pier, she had to be reminded where the Prettyman cottage was.

-

-"You'll know it by the plum tree, ma'am," said William respectfully,

-"everybody does."

-

-It was not far off on the river side. The tide had ebbed and left a

-stretch of muddy foreshore in front of it, where the rotting poles for

-hanging the fishing nets out to dry stood gauntly up. Mrs. de Tracy

-approached the steps, which merged into the flagged path before the

-door, and paused to survey the property she intended to part with. She

-had no eye for the picturesque. A few white petals from the blossoming

-plum tree, scattered by the breeze, fell upon her black bonnet and

-shoulders. A faint scent of honey came from it and the hum of bees,

-for the day was warm. The tumble-down condition of the cottage engaged

-Mrs. de Tracy's attention.

-

-"And for this," she thought scornfully, "a man will give hundreds of

-pounds! There's truth in the adage that a fool and his money are soon

-parted!"

-

-She mounted the steps that led up to the patch of garden, her keen,

-cold eyes everywhere at once. "A cat can't sneeze without she 'ears

-'im!" her villagers at Stoke Revel were wont to say, disappearing into

-their houses as rabbits into their burrows at sight of a terrier.

-

-Old Elizabeth Prettyman stood at her door, and it took some time to

-make her realize who her august visitor was. She was getting blind;

-she had never been a favourite with Mrs. de Tracy, nor had she entered

-Stoke Revel Manor since her nursling disgraced it by marrying a Bean.

-She curtseyed humbly to the great lady.

-

-"There now, ma'am," she said, "it's not often we have seen you across

-the river. Will you please to come inside and sit down, ma'am? 'T is

-very warm this afternoon, it is." She was a good deal fluttered in her

-welcome, for there was that in Mrs. de Tracy's air that seemed to bode

-misfortune.

-

-"I shall sit down for a few minutes, Elizabeth," was the reply, "while

-I explain my visit to you."

-

-Mrs. Prettyman stood aside respectfully, and Mrs. de Tracy swept past

-her into the cottage and seated herself there. It never occurred to

-her to ask the old woman to sit down in her own house; she expected

-her to stand throughout the interview. Without further preamble,

-then, Mrs. de Tracy came to the point:--

-

-"Elizabeth," she said, "I have come to tell you that I am going to

-sell the land on which this cottage stands, and that you will have to

-find some other home."

-

-The old woman did not understand for a minute. "You be going to sell

-the land, ma'am?" she repeated stupidly.

-

-"Yes, I am. A gentleman from London wishes to buy it; you will need to

-go."

-

-"A gentleman from London! Lor, ma'am, no gentleman from London

-wouldn't live 'ere!" Elizabeth cried, perfectly dazed by the

-statement.

-

-Mrs. de Tracy repeated: "It is not your business, Elizabeth, what he

-intends to do with the place; all you have to do is to remove from the

-house."

-

-The old woman sank down on the nearest chair and covered her face with

-her hands. She was so old and so tired that she had no heart to face

-life under new conditions, even should they be better than those she

-left. A younger woman would have snapped her fingers in Mrs. de

-Tracy's face, so to speak, and wished her joy of her old rattletrap of

-a house, but Elizabeth Prettyman, after a lifetime of struggles, had

-not vitality enough for such an action. She had never dreamed of

-leaving the cottage, and where was she to go? Her furrowed face wore

-an expression of absolute terror now when she looked up.

-

-"But where be I to live, ma'am?" she cried.

-

-"I do not know, Elizabeth; you must arrange that with your relations,"

-said Mrs. de Tracy.

-

-"I don't 'ave but only me niece--'er as married down Exeter way."

-

-"Well, you should write to her then."

-

-"She don't want to keep me, Nettie don't,--she's but a poor man's

-wife, and five chillen she 'as; it's not like as if she were me

-daughter, ma'am."

-

-"You have some small sum of money of your own every year, have you

-not?" Mrs. de Tracy asked.

-

-"Ten pound a year, ma'am; the same that me 'usband left me; two

-'undred pounds 'e 'ad saved and 't is in an annuity; that's all I

-'ave--that and me plum tree."

-

-"The plum tree is not yours, either, Elizabeth; that belongs to the

-land," said Mrs. de Tracy curtly.

-

-"'T was me 'usband planted it, ma'am, years ago. We watched 'en and

-pruned 'en and tended 'en like a child we did--an' now to be told 'er

-ain't mine!"

-

-"You're forgetting yourself, Elizabeth, I think," said Mrs. de Tracy.

-It was simply impossible for her to see with the old woman's eyes; all

-she remembered was the legal fact that any tree planted in Stoke Revel

-ground belonged to the owner of the ground.

-

-"But ma'am, 't is a big part of me living is the plum tree; only

-yesterday I says to the young lady--Miss Cynthia's young lady--I

-says, 'Dear knows how 't would be with me without I had the plum

-tree.'"

-

-"I cannot help that, Elizabeth: the plum tree is not yours, it belongs

-to Stoke Revel."

-

-"Then ma'am, you'll be 'lowing me something for it surely?"

-

-"No," said Mrs. de Tracy obstinately, "you have no legal claim to

-compensation, Elizabeth. I cannot undertake to allow you anything for

-what is not yours. If I did it in your case you know quite well I

-should have to do it in many others."

-

-There was a long and heavy silence. Elizabeth Prettyman was taking in

-her sentence of banishment from her old home; Mrs. de Tracy was merely

-wondering how long it would take her to walk down that nasty steep bit

-of path to the ferry. At last the old woman looked up.

-

-"When must I be goin' then, ma'am?" she asked meekly.

-

-Mrs. de Tracy considered. "The transfer of land from one person to

-another generally takes some time: you will have several weeks here

-still; I shall send you notice later which day to quit."

-

-"Thank you, ma'am," said Elizabeth simply, and added, "The plum tree

-blossoms 'ul be over by that time."

-

-"I don't see what that has to do with it," said Mrs. de Tracy, in

-whose heart there was room for no sentiment.

-

-"'T would have been 'arder leavin' it in blossom time," the old woman

-explained; but her hearer could not see the point. She rose slowly

-from her chair and looked around the cottage.

-

-"I am glad to see that you keep your place clean and respectable,

-Elizabeth," she said. "I wish you good afternoon."

-

-Elizabeth never rose from her chair to see her visitor to the door--(an

-omission which Mrs. de Tracy was not likely to overlook)--she just sat

-there gazing stupidly around the tiny kitchen and muttering a word or

-two now and then. At last she got up and tottered to the garden.

-

-"I'll 'ave to leave it all--leave the old bench as me William did put

-for me with his own 'ands, and leave Duckie, Duckie can't never go to

-Exeter if I goes there,--and leave the plum tree." She limped across

-the little bit of sunny turf, and stood under the white canopy of the

-blossoming tree, leaning against its slender trunk. "Pity 't is we

-ain't rooted in the ground same as the trees are," she mused. "Then no

-one couldn't turn us out; only the Lord Almighty cut us down when our

-time came; Lord knows I'm about ready for that now--grave-ripe as you

-may say." She leaned her poor weary old head against the tree stem and

-wept, ready, ah! how ready, at that moment, to lay down the burden of

-her long and toilsome life.

-

-"Good afternoon, Nursie dear!" a clear voice called out in her ear,

-and Elizabeth started to find that Robinette had tip-toed across the

-grass and was standing close beside her. She lifted her tear-stained

-face up to Robinette's as a child might have done.

-

-"I've to quit, Missie," she sobbed, "to leave me 'ome and Duckie and

-the plum tree, an' I've no place to go to, and naught but my ten

-pounds to live on--and 't won't keep me without I've the plum tree,

-not when I've rent to pay from it; not if I don't eat nothing but tea

-an' bread never again!"

-

-In a moment Robinette's arms were about her: her soft young cheeks

-pressed against the withered old face.

-

-"What's this you're saying, Nurse?" she cried. "Leaving your cottage?

-Who said so?"

-

-"It's true, dear, quite true; 'asn't the lady 'erself been here to

-tell me so?"

-

-"Was that what Aunt de Tracy was here about? I met her on the road

-five minutes ago; she said she had been here on business! But tell me,

-Nurse, why does she want you to leave? Are you going to get a better

-cottage? Does she think this one isn't healthy for you?"

-

-"No, no, dear, 't isn't that, she 've sold the cottage over me 'ead,

-that's what 't is, or she's going to sell it, to a gentleman from

-London--Lord knows what a gentleman from London wants wi' 'en--and

-I've to quit."

-

-Robinette tried to be a peacemaker.

-

-"Then you'll get a much more comfortable house, that's quite certain.

-You know, though this one is lovely on fine days like this, that the

-thatch is all coming off, and I'm sure it's damp inside! Just wait a

-bit, and see if you don't get some nice cosy little place, with a

-sound roof and quite dry, that will cure this rheumatism of yours."

-

-But Mrs. Prettyman shook her head.

-

-"No, no, there won't be no cosy place given to me; I'm no more worth

-than an old shoe now, Missie, and I'm to be turned out, the lady said

-so 'erself; said as I must go to Exeter to live with me niece Nettie,

-and 'er don't want us--Nettie don't--and whatever shall I do without I

-'ave Duckie and the plum tree?"

-

-"Oh, but"--Robinette began, quite incredulously, and the old woman

-took up her lament again.

-

-"And I asked the lady, wouldn't I 'ave something allowed me for the

-plum tree--that 'ave about clothed me for years back? And 'No,' she

-says, ''t ain't your plum tree, Elizabeth, 't is mine; I can't 'low

-nothing on me own plum tree.'"

-

-Robinette still refused to believe the story.

-

-"Nurse, dear," she said, "you're a tiny bit deaf now, you know, and

-perhaps you misunderstood about leaving. Suppose you keep your dear

-old heart easy for to-night, and I'll come down bright and early

-to-morrow and tell you what it really is! If you have to leave the

-plum tree you'll get a fine price put on it that may last you for

-years; it's such a splendid tree, anyone can see it's worth a good

-deal."

-

-"That it be, Missie, the finest tree in Wittisham," the old woman

-said, drying her eyes, a little comforted by the assurance in

-Robinette's voice and manner.

-

-"There now, we won't have any more tears: I've brought a new canister

-of tea I sent for to London. I'm just dying to taste if it's good;

-we'll brew it together, Nursie; I shall carry out the little table

-from the kitchen and we'll drink our tea under the plum tree,"

-Robinette cried.

-

-She was carrying a great parcel under her arm, and when Mrs. Prettyman

-opened it, she could scarcely believe that this lovely red tin

-canister, filled with pounds of fragrant tea, could really be hers!

-The sight of such riches almost drove away her former fears. Robinette

-whisked into the kitchen and came out carrying the little round table

-which she set down under the white canopy of the plum tree. Then

-together they brought out the rest of the tea things, and what a merry

-meal they had!

-

-"It's just nonsense and a bit of deafness on your part, Nurse, so we

-won't remember anything about leaving the house, we are only going to

-think of enjoyment," Robinette announced. Then the old woman was

-comforted, as old people are wont to be by the brave assurances of

-those younger and stronger than themselves, forgot the spectre that

-seemed to have risen suddenly across her path, and laughed and talked

-as she sipped the fragrant London tea.

-

-

-

-

-XVIII

-

-THE STOKE REVEL JEWELS

-

-

-"Hullo! Cousin Robin, hurry up, you'll need all your time!" It was

-Carnaby of course who saluted Robinette thus, as she came towards the

-house on her return from Wittisham.

-

-"I'm not late, am I?" she said, consulting her watch.

-

-"I thought you'd be making a tremendous toilette; one of your killing

-ones to-night," Carnaby said. "Do! I love to see you all dressed up

-till old Smeardon's eyes look as if they would drop out when you come

-into the room."

-

-"I'll wear my black dress, and her eyes may remain in her head,"

-Robinette laughed.

-

-"And what about Mark's eyes? Wouldn't you like them to drop out?" the

-boy asked mischievously. "He's come back by the afternoon train while

-you were away at Wittisham."

-

-"Oh, has he?" Robinette said, and Carnaby stared so hard at her, that

-to her intense annoyance she blushed hotly.

-

-"Horrid lynx-eyed boy," she said to herself as she ran upstairs, "He's

-growing up far too quickly. He needs to be snubbed." She dashed to the

-wardrobe, pulled out the black garment, and gave it a vindictive shake.

-"Old, dowdy, unbecoming, deaconess-district-visitor-bible-woman,

-great-grand-auntly thing!" she cried.

-

-Then her eye lighted on a cherished lavender satin. She stood for a

-moment deliberating, the black dress over her arm, her eyes fixed upon

-the lavender one that hung in the wardrobe.

-

-"I don't care," she cried suddenly: "I'll wear the lavender, so here

-goes! Men are all colour blind, so he'll merely notice that I look

-nice. I must conceal from myself and everybody else how depressed I am

-over the interview with Nurse, and how I dread discussing the cottage

-with Aunt de Tracy. That must be done the first thing after dinner, or

-I shall lose what little courage I have."

-

-Lavendar thought he had never seen her look so lovely as when he met

-her in the drawing room a quarter of an hour later. There was nothing

-extraordinary about the dress but its exquisite tint and the sheen of

-the soft satin. The suggestion that lay in the colour was entirely

-lost upon him, however: if asked to name it he would doubtless have

-said "purplish." How he wished that he might have escorted her into

-the dining room, but Mrs. de Tracy was his portion as usual, and

-Robinette was waiting for Carnaby, who seemed unaccountably slow.

-

-"Your arm, Middy, when you are quite ready," she said to him at last.

-Carnaby's extraordinary unreadiness seemed to arise from his trying to

-smuggle some object up his sleeve. This proved, a few moments later,

-to be a bundle of lavender sticks tied with violet ribbon that he had

-discovered in his bureau drawer. He laid it by Robinette's plate with

-a whispered "My compliments."

-

-"What does your cousin want that bunch of lavender for, at the table?"

-Mrs. de Tracy enquired.

-

-"She likes lavender anywhere, ma'am," Carnaby said with a wink on the

-side not visible by his grandmother. "It's a favourite of hers."

-

-Robinette could only be thankful that Lavendar was occupied in a

-_sotto voce_ discussion of wine with Bates, and she was able to

-conceal the bundle of herbs before his eyes met hers, for the fury she

-felt against her precious young kinsman at that moment she could have

-expressed only by blows.

-

-Dinner seemed interminably long. Robinette, for more reasons than one,

-was preoccupied; Lavendar made few remarks, and Carnaby was possessed

-by a spirit of perfectly fiendish mischief, saying and doing

-everything that could most exasperate his grandmother, put her guests

-to the blush, and shock Miss Smeardon.

-

-But at last Mrs. de Tracy rose from the table, and the ladies followed

-her from the room, leaving Lavendar to cope alone with Carnaby.

-

-"My fair American cousin is more than usually lovely to-night, eh, Mr.

-Lavendar?" the boy said, with his laughable assumption of a man of the

-world.

-

-"There, my young friend; that will do! you're talking altogether too

-much," said Lavendar, as he poured himself out a glass of wine and sat

-down by the open window to drink it. Carnaby, perhaps not unreasonably

-offended, lounged out of the room, and left the older man to his own

-meditations.

-

-Robinette in the meantime went into the drawing room with her aunt,

-and they sat down together in the dim light while Miss Smeardon went

-upstairs to write a letter.

-

-"Aunt de Tracy," Robinette began, "I was calling on Mrs. Prettyman

-just after you had been with her this afternoon, and do you know the

-dear old soul had taken the strangest idea into her head! She says you

-are going to ask her to leave the cottage."

-

-"The land on which her cottage stands is about to be sold," said Mrs.

-de Tracy. "It is necessary that she should move."

-

-"Yes, she quite understood that; but she thinks she is not going to

-get another house; that was what was distressing her, naturally. Of

-course she hates to leave the old place, but I believe if she gets

-another nicer cottage, that will quite console her," said Robinette

-quickly.

-

-"I have no vacant cottage on the estate just now," said Mrs. de Tracy

-quietly.

-

-"Then what is she to do? Isn't it impossible that she should move

-until another place is made ready for her?" Robinette rose and stood

-beside the table, leaning the tips of her fingers on it in an attitude

-of intense earnestness. She was trying to conceal the anger and dismay

-she felt at her aunt's reply.

-

-"Mrs. Prettyman has relatives at Exeter," said Mrs. de Tracy without

-the quiver of an eyelid.

-

-"Yes; but they are poor. They aren't very near relations, and they

-don't want her. O Aunt de Tracy, is it necessary to make her leave?

-She depends upon the plum tree so! She makes twenty-five dollars a

-year from the jam!"

-

-"Dollars have no significance for me," said Mrs. de Tracy with an icy

-smile.

-

-"Well, pounds then: five pounds she makes. How is she ever going to

-live without that, unless you give her the equivalent? It's half her

-livelihood! I promised you would consider it? Was I wrong?"

-

-Old bitternesses rose in Mrs. de Tracy's heart, the prejudices and the

-grudges of a lifetime. Everything connected with Robinette's mother

-had been wrong in her eyes, and now everything connected with

-Robinette was wrong too, and becoming more so with startling

-rapidity.

-

-"You had no right whatsoever to make any promises on my behalf," she

-now said harshly. "You have acted foolishly and officiously. This is

-no business of yours."

-

-"I'll gladly make it my business if you'll let me, Aunt de Tracy!"

-pleaded Robinette. "If you don't feel inclined to provide for Mrs.

-Prettyman, mayn't I? She is my mother's old nurse and she shan't want

-for anything as long as I have a penny to call my own!" Robinette's

-eyes filled with tears, but Mrs. de Tracy was not a whit moved by this

-show of emotion, which appeared to her unnecessary and theatrical.

-

-"You are forgetting yourself a good deal in your way of speaking to me

-on this subject," she said coldly. "When I behaved unbecomingly in my

-youth, my mother always recommended me to go upstairs, shut myself up

-alone in my room, and collect my thoughts. The process had invariably

-a calming effect. I advise you to try it."

-

-Robinette did not need to be proffered the hint twice. She rushed out

-of the room like a whirlwind, not looking where she went. In the hall,

-she came face to face with Lavendar, who had just left the dining

-room.

-

-"Mr. Lavendar!" she cried. "Do go into the drawing room and speak to

-my aunt. Preach to her! Argue with her! Convince her that she can't

-and mustn't act in this way; can't go and turn Mrs. Prettyman out, and

-rob her of the plum tree, and leave her with hardly a penny in the

-world or a roof over her head!"

-

-"It's not a very pretty or a very pleasant business, Mrs. Loring, I

-admit," said Lavendar quietly.

-

-"Is it English law?" cried Robinette with indignation. "If it is, I

-call it mean and unjust!"

-

-"Sometimes the laws seem very hard," said Lavendar. "I'd like to

-discuss this affair with you quietly another time."

-

-As he spoke, Carnaby appeared and wanted to be told what the matter

-was, but Robinette discovered that it is not very easy to criticise a

-grandmother to her youthful grandson, more especially when the lady in

-question is your hostess.

-

-"Aunt de Tracy and I have had a little difference of opinion about

-Mrs. Prettyman and her cottage, and the plum tree," she said to the

-boy quietly, and Lavendar nodded approval.

-

-"Prettyman's got the sack, hasn't she?" Carnaby enquired with a boy's

-carelessness.

-

-Robinette looked very grave. "My dear old nurse is to leave her

-cottage," she said with a quiver in her voice. "She's to lose her plum

-tree--"

-

-"But of course she'll get compensation," cried Carnaby.

-

-"No, Middy; she's to get no compensation," said Robinette in a low

-voice.

-

-"Well, I call that jolly hard! It's a beastly shame," said Carnaby,

-evidently pricking up his ears and with a sudden frown that changed

-his face. "I say, Mark--" But Lavendar did not think the moment

-suitable for a discussion of Mrs. Prettyman's wrongs. Besides, he did

-not wish Robinette to be banished from the drawing room for a whole

-interminable evening. He contrived to silence Carnaby for the time

-being.

-

-"Let's bury the hatchet for a little while," he suggested. "Have you

-forgotten, Mrs. Loring, that I made Mrs. de Tracy promise to show off

-the Stoke Revel jewels for your benefit this very night?"

-

-"O! but now I'm in disgrace, she won't!" said Robinette.

-

-"Yes, she will!" said Carnaby. "Nothing puts the old lady in such a

-heavenly temper as showing off the jewels. Don't you miss it, Cousin

-Robin! It's like the Tower of London and Madam Tussaud's rolled into

-one, this show, I can assure you. Come on! Come back into the drawing

-room. Needn't be afraid when Mark's there!"

-

-Robinette found that a black look or two was all that she had to fear

-from Mrs. de Tracy at present, and even these became less severe

-under the alchemy of Lavendar's tact. A reminder that an exhibition of

-the jewelry had been promised was graciously received. Bates and

-Benson were summoned, and armed with innumerable keys, they descended

-to subterranean regions where safes were unlocked and jewel-boxes

-solemnly brought into the drawing room. Mrs. de Tracy wore an air

-almost devotional, as she unlocked the final receptacles with keys

-never allowed to leave her own hands.

-

-"If the proceedings had begun with prayer and ended with a hymn, it

-wouldn't have surprised me in the least!" Robinette said to herself,

-looking silently on. Her silence, luckily for her, was taken for the

-speechlessness of awe, and did a good deal to make up, in the eyes of

-her august relative, for her late indiscretions. As a matter of fact,

-her irreverent thoughts were mostly to the effect that all but the

-historical pieces of the Stoke Revel _corbeille_ would be the better

-of re-setting by Tiffany or Cartier.

-

-Mrs. de Tracy opened an old shagreen case and the firelight flickered

-on the diamonds of a small tiara.

-

-"This is a part of the famous Montmorency set," she announced proudly,

-with the tone of a Keeper of Regalia. Then she took out a rope of

-pearls ending in tassels. "These belonged to Marie Antoinette," she

-said.

-

-An emerald set was next produced, and the emeralds, it was explained,

-had once adorned a crown. Deep green they were, encrusted in their

-diamond setting; costly, unique; but they left Robinette cold, though

-like most American women, she loved precious stones as an adornment.

-One of those emeralds, she was thinking, was worth fifty times more

-than old Lizzie Prettyman's cottage: the sale of one of them would

-have averted that other sale which was to cause so much distress to a

-poor harmless old woman.

-

-"When do you wear your jewels, Aunt de Tracy?" she asked gravely.

-

-"I have not worn them since the Admiral's death," was the virtuous

-reply, "and I have never called or considered them mine, Robinetta.

-They are the de Tracy jewels. When Carnaby takes his place as the head

-of the house, they will be his. He will see that his wife wears them

-on the proper occasions."

-

-"Carnaby's wife!" thought Robinette. "Why! she mayn't be born! He may

-never have a wife! And to think of all those precious stones hiding

-their brightness in these boxes like prisoners in a dungeon for years

-and years, only to be let out now and then by Bates and Benson,

-jingling their keys like jailers! And this house is a prison too!" she

-said to herself; "a prison for souls!" and the thought of its hoarded

-wealth made her indignant; all this hidden treasure in a house where

-there was never enough to eat, where guests shivered in fireless

-bedrooms, where servants would not stay because they were starved! And

-Carnaby, too, whose youth was being embittered by unnecessary

-economies: Carnaby, who had so little pocket-money that he was a

-laughing-stock among his fellows--it was for Carnaby these sacrifices

-were being made! Strange traditions! Fetiches of family pride almost

-as grotesque to her thinking as those of any savages under the sun.

-

-"My poor dear Middy!" she thought. "What chance has he, brought up in

-an atmosphere like this?" But she happened to raise her eyes at the

-moment, and to see the actual Carnaby of the moment, not the Carnaby

-her gloomy imagination was evoking from the future with the "petty

-hoard of maxims preaching down" his heart. He had contrived to get

-hold of the Marie Antoinette pearls without his grandmother's

-knowledge and to hang them around his neck; he had poised the

-Montmorency tiara on his own sleek head; he had forced a heavy

-bracelet by way of collar round Rupert's throat, and now with that

-choking and goggling unfortunate held partner-wise in his arms, he was

-waltzing on tiptoe about the farther drawing room behind the

-unconscious backs of Mrs. de Tracy and Miss Smeardon.

-

-"He's only a careless boy," thought Robinette, "a happy-go-lucky,

-devil-may-care, hare-brained youngster. They can't have poisoned his

-nature yet, and I'm sure he has a good heart. If he were at the head

-of affairs at Stoke Revel instead of his grandmother, I wonder what

-would be done in the matter of my poor old nurse?" Robinette stood in

-the doorway for a moment before going up to her room. Her whole

-attitude spoke depression as Carnaby stole up behind her.

-

-"See here, Cousin Robin, I can't bear to have you go on like this.

-Don't take Prettyman's trouble so to heart. We'll do something! I'll

-do something myself! I have a happy thought."

-

-

-

-

-XIX

-

-LAWYER AND CLIENT

-

-

-Robinette had a bad night after the jewel exhibition, and a heavy head

-and aching eyes prompted her to ask Little Cummins to bring her

-breakfast to her bedroom.

-

-It was touching to see that small person hovering over Robinette:

-stirring the fire, sweeping the hearth, looping back the curtains,

-tucking the slippers out of sight, and moving about the room like a

-mother ministering to an ailing child. Finally she staggered in with

-the heavy breakfast tray that she had carried through long halls and

-up the stairs, and put it on the table by the bed.

-

-"There's a new-laid egg, ma'am, that cook 'ad for the mistress, but I

-thought you needed it more; an' I brewed the tea meself, to be sure,"

-she cooed; "an' I've spread the loaf same as you like, an' cut the

-bread thin, an' 'ere's one o' the roses you allers wears to breakfast;

-an' wouldn't your erming coat be a comfort, ma'am?"

-

-"Dear Little Cummins! How did you know I needed comfort? How did you

-guess I was homesick?"

-

-Robinette leaned her head against the housemaid's rough hand, always

-stained with black spots that would give way to no scrubbing. From

-morning to night she was in the coal scuttle or the grate or the

-saucer of black lead, for she did nothing but lay fires, light fires,

-feed fires, and tidy up after fires, for eight or nine months of the

-year.

-

-"You mustn't touch me, ma'am; I ain't fit; there's smut on me, an'

-hashes, this time o' day," said Little Cummins.

-

-"I don't care. I like you better with ashes than lots of people

-without. You mustn't stay in the coal scuttle all your life, Little

-Cummins; you must be my chambermaid some of these days when we can get

-a good substitute for Mrs. de Tracy. Would you like that, if the

-mistress will let you go?"

-

-Little Cummins put her apron up to her eyes, and from its depths came

-inarticulate bursts of gratitude and joy. Then peeping from it just

-enough to see the way to the door, she ran out like a hare and

-secluded herself in the empty linen-room until she was sufficiently

-herself to join the other servants.

-

-Robinette finished her breakfast and dressed. She had lacked courage

-to meet the family party, although she longed for a talk with Mark

-Lavendar. It was entirely normal, feminine, and according to all law,

-human and divine, but it appealed also to her sense of humour, that

-she should feel that this new man-friend could straighten out all the

-difficulties in the path. She waited patiently at her window until she

-saw him walk around the corner of the house, under the cedars, and up

-the twisting path, his head bent and bare, his hands in his pockets.

-Then she flung her blue cape over her shoulders and followed him.

-

-"Mr. Lavendar," she called, as she caught up with his slow step, "you

-said you would advise me a little. Let us sit on this bench a moment

-and find out how we can untangle all the knots into which Aunt de

-Tracy tied us yesterday. I am so afraid of her that I am sure I spoke

-timidly and respectfully to her at first; but perhaps I showed more

-feeling at the end than I should. I am willing to apologize to her for

-any lack of courtesy, but I don't see how I can retract anything I

-said."

-

-"It is hard for you," Lavendar replied, "because you have a natural

-affection for your mother's old nurse; and Mrs. de Tracy, I begin to

-believe, is more than indifferent to her. She has some active dislike,

-perhaps, the source of which is unknown to us."

-

-"But she is so unjust!" cried Robinette. "I never heard of an Irish

-landlord in a novel who would practice such a piece of eviction. If I

-must stand by and see it done, then I shall assert my right to provide

-for Nurse and move her into a new dwelling. After you left the drawing

-room last night, I begged as tactfully as I could that Aunt de Tracy

-would sell me some of the jewels, so that she need not part with the

-land at Wittisham. She was very angry, and wouldn't hear of it. Then I

-proposed buying the plum-tree cottage, that it might be kept in the

-family, and she was furious at my audacity. Perhaps the Admiral's

-niece is _not_ in the family."

-

-"She cannot endure anything like patronage, or even an assumption of

-equality," said Lavendar. "You must be careful there."

-

-"Should I be likely to patronize?" asked Robinette reproachfully.

-

-"No; but your acquaintance with your aunt is a very brief one, and she

-is an extraordinary character; hard to understand. You may easily

-stumble on a prejudice of hers at every step."

-

-"I shouldn't like to understand her any better than I do now," and

-Robinette pushed back her hair rebelliously.

-

-"Will you be my client for about five minutes?" asked Lavendar.

-

-"Yes, willingly enough, for I see nothing before me but to take Nurse

-Prettyman and depart in the first steamer for America."

-

-Mrs. Loring looked as if she were quite capable of this rather radical

-proceeding, and very much, too, as if any growing love for Lavendar

-that she might have, would easily give way under this new pressure of

-circumstances.

-

-"This is the situation in a nutshell," said Lavendar, filling his

-pipe. "Mrs. de Tracy is entirely within her legal rights when she asks

-Mrs. Prettyman to leave the cottage; legally right also when she

-declines to give compensation for the plum tree that has been a source

-of income; financially right moreover in selling cottage and land at a

-fancy price to find money for needed improvements on the estate."

-

-"None of this can be denied, I allow."

-

-"All these legal rights could have been softened if Mrs. de Tracy had

-been willing to soften them, but unfortunately she has been put on the

-defensive. She did not like it when I opposed her in the first place.

-She did not like it when my father advised her to make some small

-settlement, as he did, several days ago. She resented Mrs. Prettyman's

-assumption of owning the plum tree; she was outraged at your valiant

-espousing of your nurse's cause."

-

-"I see; we have simply made her more determined in her injustice."

-

-"Now it is all very well for you to show your mettle," Lavendar went

-on, "for you to endure your aunt's displeasure rather than give up a

-cause you know to be just; but look where it lands us."

-

-Robinette raised her troubled eyes to Lavendar's, giving a sigh to

-show she realized that her landing-place would be wherever the lawyer

-fixed it, not where she wished it.

-

-"Go on," she sighed patiently.

-

-"Your legal adviser regards it as impossible that you should come over

-from America and quarrel with your mother's family;--your only family,

-in point of fact. If this affair is fought to a finish you will feel

-like leaving your aunt's house."

-

-"I shouldn't have to wait for that feeling," said Robinette

-irrepressibly. "Aunt de Tracy would have it first!"

-

-"In such an event I could and would stand by you, naturally."

-

-"_Would_ you?" cried Robinette glowing instantly like a jewel.

-

-Lavendar looked at her in amazement. "Pray what do you take me for? On

-whose side could I, should I be, my dear--my dear Mrs. Loring? But to

-keep to business. In the event stated above, neither my father nor I

-could very well continue to have charge of the estate. That is a small

-matter, but increases the difficulties, owing to a long friendship

-dating back to the Admiral's time. Then we have Carnaby. Carnaby, my

-dear Mrs. Loring, belongs to you. Do you want to give him up? He

-adores you and you will have an unbounded influence on him, if you

-choose to exercise it."

-

-"How can I influence Carnaby--in America?"

-

-This was a blow, but Lavendar made no sign. "You may not always be in

-America," he said. "Now why not let Mrs. de Tracy sell the land and

-cottage and plum tree in the ordinary course of things? Oh, how I wish

-_I_ could buy the blessed thing!" he exclaimed, parenthetically.

-

-"Oh! how I wish _I_ could buy the plum tree, and keep it, always

-blossoming, in my morning-room!" sighed Robinette.

-

-"But unfortunately, Waller R. A. will buy the plum tree, confound him!

-Now, just after Mrs. de Tracy has definitely sold the premises and all

-their appurtenances, suppose you, in your prettiest and most docile

-way (docility not being your strong point!) ask your aunt if she has

-any objection to your taking care of Mrs. Prettyman during the few

-years remaining to her. Meantime keep her from irritating Mrs. de

-Tracy, and make the poor old dear happy with plans for her future. If

-you are short on docility you are long on making people happy!"

-

-"Never did I hear such an argument! It would make Macduff fall into

-the arms of Macbeth; it would tranquillize the Kilkenny cats

-themselves! I'll run in and apologize abjectly to my thrice guilty

-aunt, then I'll reward myself by going over to Wittisham."

-

-"If you'll take the ferry over, I'd like to come and fetch you if I

-may. That shall be my reward."

-

-"Reward for what?"

-

-"For giving you advice very much against my personal inclinations.

-Courses of action founded entirely on policy do not appeal to me very

-strongly."

-

-

-

-

-XX

-

-THE NEW HOME

-

-

-It was in rather a chastened spirit that Robinette set off to see Mrs.

-Prettyman. "I've been foolish, I've been imprudent; oh! dear me! I've

-still so much to learn!" she sighed to herself. "No good is ever done

-by losing one's temper; it only puts everything wrong. I shall have to

-try and take Mr. Lavendar's advice. I must be very prudent with Nurse

-this morning--never show her that I think Aunt de Tracy is in the

-wrong; just persuade her ever so gently to move to another home, and

-arrange with her where it is to be."

-

-It is always difficult for an impetuous nature like Robinette's to

-hold back about anything. She would have liked to run straight into

-Mrs. Prettyman's room, and, flinging her arms round the old woman's

-neck, cry out to her that everything was settled. And instead she

-must come to the point gently, prudently, wisely, "like other people"

-as she said to herself.

-

-The cottage seemed very still that afternoon, and Robinette knocked

-twice before she heard the piping old voice cry out to her to come

-in.

-

-"Why, Nurse dear, where are you? Were you asleep?" Robinette said as

-she entered, for Mrs. Prettyman was not sitting in the fine new chair.

-Then she found that the voice answered from the little bedroom off the

-kitchen, and that the old woman was in bed.

-

-"I ain't ill, so to speak, dear, just weary in me bones," she

-explained, as Robinette sat down beside her. "And Mrs. Darke, me

-neighbour, she sez to me, 'You do take the day in bed, Mrs. Prettyman,

-me dear, an' I'll do your bit of work for 'ee'--so 'ere I be, Missie,

-right enough."

-

-"I'm afraid you were worried yesterday," said Robinette; "worried

-about leaving the house."

-

-"I were, Missie, I were," she confessed.

-

-"That's why I came to-day; you must stop worrying, for I've settled

-all about it. I spoke to my aunt last night, and it's true that you

-have to leave this house; but now I've come to make arrangements with

-you about a new one."

-

-The old woman covered her face with her hands and gave a little cry

-that went straight to Robinette's heart.

-

-"Lor' now, Miss, 'ow am I ever to leave this place where I've been all

-these years? I thought yesterday as you said 'twas a mistake I'd

-made."

-

-"But alas, it wasn't altogether a mistake," Robinette had to confess

-sadly, her eyes filling with tears as she realized how she had only

-doubled her old friend's disappointment. Then she sat forward and took

-Mrs. Prettyman's hand in hers.

-

-"Nursie dear," she said, "I don't want you to grieve about leaving

-the old home, for it isn't an awfully good one; the new one is going

-to be ever so much better!"

-

-"That's so, I'm sure, dearie, only 'tis _new_," faltered Mrs.

-Prettyman. "If you're spared to my age, Missie, you'll find as new

-things scare you."

-

-"Ah, but not a new house, Nursie! Wait till I describe it! Everything

-strong and firm about it, not shaking in the storms as this one

-does; nice bright windows to let in all the sunshine; so no more

-'rheumatics' and no more tears of pain in your dear old eyes!"

-

-Robinette's voice failed suddenly, for it struck her all in a moment

-that her glowing description of the new home seemed to have in it

-something prophetic. That bent little figure beside her, these shaking

-limbs and dim old eyes,--all this house of life, once so carefully

-builded, was crumbling again into the dust, and its tenant indeed

-wanted a new one, quite, quite different! A sob rose in Robinette's

-throat, but she swallowed it down and went on gaily.

-

-"I've settled about another thing, too; you're to have another plum

-tree, or life wouldn't be the same thing to you. And you know they can

-transplant quite big trees now-a-days and make them grow wonderfully.

-Some one was telling me all about how it is done only a few days ago.

-They dig them up ever so carefully, and when they put them into the

-new hole, every tiny root is spread out and laid in the right

-direction in the ground, and patted and coaxed in, and made firm, and

-they just catch hold on the soil in the twinkle of an eye. Isn't it

-marvellous? Well, I'll have a fine new tree planted for you so

-cleverly that perhaps by next year you'll be having a few plums, who

-knows? And the next year more plums! And the next year, jam!"

-

-"'Twill be beautiful, sure enough," said the old woman, kindling at

-last under the description of all these joys. "And do you think,

-Missie, as the new cottage will really be curing of me rheumatics?"

-

-"Why yes, Nurse. Whoever heard of rheumatism in a dry new house?"

-

-"The house be new, but the rheumatics be old," said Mrs. Prettyman

-sagely.

-

-"Well, we can't make _you_ entirely new, but we'll do our best. I'm

-going to enquire about a nice cottage not very far from here; there's

-plenty of time before this one is sold. It shall be dry and warm and

-cosy, and you will feel another person in it altogether."

-

-"These new houses be terrible dear, bain't they?" the old woman said

-anxiously.

-

-"Not a bit; besides that's another matter I want to settle with you,

-Nursie. I'm going to pay the rent always, and you're going to have a

-nice little girl to help you with the work, and there will be

-something paid to you each month, so that you won't have any

-anxiety."

-

-"Oh, Missie, Missie, whatever be you sayin'? _Me_ never to have no

-anxiety again!"

-

-"You never shall, if I can help it; old people should never have

-worries; that's what young people are here for, to look after them and

-keep them happy."

-

-Mrs. Prettyman lay back on the pillow and gazed at Robinette

-incredulously; it wasn't possible that such a solution had come to all

-her troubles. For seventy odd years she had worked and struggled and

-sometimes very nearly starved and here was some one assuring her that

-these struggles were over forever, that she needn't work hard any

-more, or ever worry again. Could it be true? And all to come from Miss

-Cynthia's daughter!

-

-Robinette bent down and kissed the wrinkled old face softly.

-

-"Good-night, Nursie dear," she said. "I'm not going to stay any longer

-with you to-day, because you're tired. Have a good sleep, and waken up

-strong and bright."

-

-"Good-night, Missie, good-night, dear," the old woman said. Her face

-had taken on an expression of such peacefulness as it had never worn

-before.

-

-She turned over on her pillow and closed her eyes, scarcely waiting

-for Robinette to leave the room.

-

-"I've been allowed to do that, anyway," Robinette said to herself,

-standing in the doorway to look back at the quiet sleeper, and then

-looking forward to a little boat nearing the shore. The cottage

-sheltered almost the only object that connected her with her past; the

-boat, she felt, held all her future.

-

-                  *       *       *       *       *

-

-The river, when Lavendar rowed himself across it, was very quiet. "The

-swelling of Jordan," as Robinette called the rising tide, was over;

-now the glassy water reflected every leaf and twig from the trees that

-hung above its banks and dipped into it here and there.

-

-Mooring his boat at the landing, Mark sauntered up to Mrs. Prettyman's

-cottage, and having tapped lightly at the door to let Mrs. Loring

-know of his arrival, as they had agreed he should do, he went along

-the flagged pathway into the garden, and sat down on the edge of the

-low wall that divided it from the river. Just in front of him was the

-little worn bench where he had first seen Robinette as she sat beside

-her old nurse with the tiny shoe on her lap. It was scarcely a

-fortnight ago; yet it seemed to him that he could hardly remember the

-kind of man he had been that afternoon; a new self, full of a new

-purpose, and at that moment of a new hope, had taken the place of the

-objectless being he had been before.

-

-Everything was very still; there was scarcely a sound from the village

-or from the shipping farther down the river. Lavendar fancied he heard

-Robinette's clear voice within the cottage; then he started suddenly

-and the blood rushed to his heart as he listened to her light steps

-coming along the paved footpath.

-

-"Here you are!" she whispered. "Let us not speak too loud, for Nurse

-was just dropping asleep when I left her. I've put a table-cover and

-a blanket over 'Mrs. Mackenzie' to keep her from quacking. Mrs.

-Prettyman has not been very well, poor dear, and is in bed. We've just

-talked about the lovely new home she's going to have, and the

-transplanted plum tree; small, but warranted to bear in a year or two

-and give plums and jam like this one. I left her so happy!"

-

-She stopped and looked up. "Oh! can any new tree be as beautiful as

-this one? Was ever anything in the world more exquisite? It has

-just come to its hour of perfection, Mr. Lavendar; it couldn't

-last,--anything so lovely in a passing world."

-

-She sat down on the low wall, and looked up at the tree. It stood and

-shone there in its perfect hour. Another day, and the blossoms, too

-fully blown, would begin to drift upon the ground with every little

-shaking wind; now it was at its zenith, a miracle of such white beauty

-that it caused the heart to stop and consider. Bees and butterflies

-hummed and flew around it; it cast a delicate shadow on the grass, and

-leaning across the wall it was imaged again in the river like a bride

-in her looking-glass.

-

-Robinette sat gazing at the tree, and Lavendar sat gazing at her. At

-that moment he "feared his fate too much" to break the silence by any

-question that might shatter his hope, as the first breeze would break

-the picture that had taken shape in the glassy water beneath them.

-

-"I feel in a better temper now," said Robinette. "Who could be angry,

-and look at that beautiful thing? I've left dear old Nurse quite happy

-again, and I haven't yet offended Aunt de Tracy irrevocably, and all

-because you persuaded me not to be unreasonable. All the same I could

-do it again in another minute if I let myself go. Doesn't injustice

-ever make people angry in England?"

-

-Lavendar laughed. "It often makes me feel angry, but I've never found

-that throwing the reins on the horses' necks when they wanted to

-bolt, made one go along the right road any faster in the end."

-

-"I often think," said Robinette, "if we could see people really angry

-and disagreeable before we--" She hesitated and added, "get to know

-them well, we should be so much more careful."

-

-"Yes," said Mark, bending down his head and speaking very deliberately,

-"that's why I wish you could have seen me in all my worst moments.

-I'd stand the shame of it, if you could only know, but, alas, one

-can't show off one's worst moments to order; they must be hit upon

-unexpectedly."

-

-"I don't believe thirty years of life would teach one about some

-people--they are so _crevicey_," said Robinette musingly. She had

-risen and leaned against the plum tree for a moment, looking up

-through the white branches.

-

-Lavendar rose and stood beside her. "Thirty years--I shall be getting

-on to seventy in thirty years."

-

-A little gust of wind shook the tree; some petals came drifting down

-upon them, like white moths, like flakes of summer snow, a warning

-that the brief hour of perfection would soon be past ... and under it

-human creatures were talking about thirty years!

-

-

-

-

-XXI

-

-CARNABY CUTS THE KNOT

-

-

-That afternoon, Carnaby was having what he called "an absolutely

-mouldy time," and since his leave was running out and his remaining

-afternoons were few, he considered himself an injured individual.

-Robinette and Lavendar seemed for ever preoccupied either with each

-other or with some subject of discussion, the ins and outs of which

-they had not confided to him.

-

-"It's partly that blessed plum tree," he said to himself; "but of

-course they're spooning too. Very likely they're engaged by this time.

-Didn't I tell her she'd marry again? Well, if she must, it might as

-well be old Lavendar as anyone else. He's a decent chap, or he was,

-before he fell in love."

-

-Carnaby sighed. This effort of generosity towards his rival made him

-feel peculiarly disconsolate. He had fished and rowed on the river all

-the morning; he had ferreted; he had fed Rupert with a private

-preparation of rabbits which infallibly made him sick, the desired

-result being obtained with almost provoking celerity. Thus even

-success had palled, and Carnaby's sharp and idle wits had begun to

-work on the problem which seemed to be occupying his elders. Neither

-Robinette nor Lavendar could expatiate to the boy on his grandmother's

-peculiarities, but Carnaby had contrived to find out for himself how

-the land lay.

-

-"Why is Waller R. A. so keen on the plum tree?" he had enquired.

-

-"He wants to make a quartette of studies," answered Lavendar. "The

-Plum Tree in spring, summer, autumn, and winter."

-

-"What a rotten idea!" said Carnaby simply.

-

-"Far from rotten, my young friend, I can assure you!" Lavendar

-returned. "It will furnish coloured illustrations for countless

-summer numbers of the _Graphic_ and _The Lady's Pictorial_, and fill

-Waller R. A.'s pockets with gold, some of which will shortly filter in

-advance into the Stoke Revel banking account, we hope."

-

-"I'm not so sure about that!" said Carnaby; but he said it to himself,

-while aloud he only asked with much apparent innocence, "Waller R. A.

-wouldn't look at the cottage or the land without the plum tree, I

-suppose?"

-

-"Certainly not," Lavendar had answered. "The plum tree is safeguarded

-in the agreement as I'm sure no plum tree ever was before. Waller R.

-A.'s no fool!"

-

-Digesting this information and much else that he had gleaned, Carnaby

-now climbed to the top of a tree where he had a favourite perch, and

-did some serious and simple thinking.

-

-"It's a beastly shame," he said to himself, "to turn that old woman

-out of her cottage. Cousin Robin thinks it's a beastly shame, and

-what's more, Mark does, and he's a man, and a lawyer into the

-bargain."

-

-Carnaby thought remorsefully of a pot of jam which old Mrs. Prettyman

-had given him once to take back to college. What good jam it had

-been, and how large the pot! He had never given her anything--he had

-never a penny to bless himself with; and now his grandmother was

-taking away from the poor old creature all that she had. "It's

-regular covetousness," he thought, "and that infernal plum tree's at

-the bottom of it all. Naboth's vineyard is a joke in comparison, and

-What's-his-name and the one ewe lamb simply aren't in it." He grew

-hot with mortification. Then he reflected, "If the plum tree weren't

-there, Waller R. A. wouldn't want the cottage, and old Mrs. Prettyman

-could live in it till the end of the chapter." A slow grin dawned upon

-his face, its most mischievous expression, the one which Rupert with

-canine sagacity had learned to dread. He felt and pinched the

-muscle of his arm fondly. (_Mussle_ he always spelled the word

-himself, upon phonetic principles.)

-

-"I may be a fool and a minor" (generally spelt _miner_ by him), he

-said, as he climbed down from his perch, "but at least I can cut down

-a tree!"

-

-He became lost to view forthwith in the workshops and tool-sheds

-attached to the home premises of Stoke Revel, and presently emerged,

-furnished with the object he had made diligent and particular search

-for; this he proceeded to carry in an inconspicuous way to a distant

-cottage where he knew there was a grindstone. He spent a happy hour

-with the object, the grindstone, and a pail of water. _Whirr_,

-_whirr_, _whirr_, sang the grindstone, now softly, now loudly--"_this

-is an axe, an axe, an axe, and a strong arm that holds it_!"

-

-"You be goin' to do a bit of forestry on your own, Master Carnaby,

-eh?" suggested the grinning owner of the grindstone.

-

-"I am; a very particular bit, Jones!" replied the young master,

-lovingly feeling the edge of the tool, which was now nearly as fine as

-that of a razor.

-

-"You be careful, sir, as you don't chop off one of your own toes with

-that there axe," said the man. "It be full heavy for one o' your age.

-But there! you zailor-men be that handy! 'Tis your trade, so to

-speak!"

-

-"Quite right, Jones, it is!" replied Carnaby. "Good-afternoon and

-thank you for the use of the grindstone." He was already planning

-where he would hide the axe, for he had precise ideas about everything

-and left nothing to chance.

-

-Carnaby went to bed that night at his usual hour. His profession had

-already accustomed him to awaking at odd intervals, and he had more

-than the ordinary boy's knowledge of moon and tide, night and dawn.

-When he slipped out of bed after a few hours of sound sleep, he put on

-a flannel shirt and trousers and a broad belt, and then, carrying his

-boots in his hand, crept out of his room and through the sleeping

-house. He would much rather have climbed out of the window, in a

-manner more worthy of such an adventure, but his return in that

-fashion might offer dangers in daylight. So he was content with an

-unfrequented garden door which he could leave on the latch.

-

-The moon, which had been young when she lighted the lovers in the

-mud-bank adventure, was now a more experienced orb and shed a useful

-light. Carnaby intended to cross the river in a small tub which was

-propelled by a single oar worked at the stern, the rower standing.

-This craft was intended for pottering about the shore; to cross the

-river in it was the dangerous feat of a skilled waterman, but Carnaby

-had a knack of his own with every floating thing. As he balanced

-himself in the rocking tub, bare-headed, bare-necked, bare-armed,

-paddling with the grace and ease of strength and training, he looked

-a man, but a man young with the youth of the gods. The moon shone in

-his keen grey eyes and made them sparkle. A cold sea-wind blew up the

-river, but he did not feel its chill, for blood hot with adventure

-raced in his veins.

-

-Wittisham was in profound darkness when he landed, and the moon having

-gone behind a bank of cloud, he had to grope his way to Mrs.

-Prettyman's cottage, shouldering the axe. The isolated position of the

-house alone made the adventure possible, he reflected; he could not

-have cut down a tree in the hearing of neighbours, and as to old

-Elizabeth herself, he hoped she was deaf. Most old women were, he

-reflected, except unfortunately his grandmother!

-

-Soon he was entering the little garden and sniffing the scent of

-blossom, which was very strong in the night air. He could see the dim

-outline of the plum tree, and just as he wanted light, the moon came

-out and shone upon its whiteness, giving a sort of spiritual beauty

-to the flowering thing that was very exquisite.

-

-"What price, Waller R. A. now?" thought Carnaby impishly. "The plum

-tree in moonlight! eh? Wouldn't he give his eyes to see it! But he

-won't! Not if I know it!" The boy was as blind to the tree's beauty as

-his grandmother had been, but he had scientific ideas how to cut it

-down, for he had watched the felling of many a tree.

-

-First, standing on a lower branch, you lopped off all the side shoots

-as high as you could reach. This made the trunk easy to deal with, and

-its fall less heavy, and Carnaby set to work.

-

-"She goes through them all as slick as butter!" he said to himself in

-high satisfaction. The axe had assumed a personality to him and was

-"she," not "it." "She makes no more noise than a pair of scissors

-cutting flowers; not half so much!" he said proudly. Branch after

-branch fell down and lay about the tree like the discarded garments of

-a bathing nymph. The petals fell upon Carnaby's face, upon his hair

-and shoulders; he was a white figure as he toiled. Frightened birds

-and bats flew about, but he did not notice them. His only care was the

-cottage itself and its inmate. If _she_ should awake! But the little

-habitation, shrouded in thatch and deep in shadow, was dark and silent

-as the grave.

-

-"She must be sound asleep and deaf," thought the boy. "Yes, very

-deaf." He paused. The first stage in his task was accomplished.

-Shivering and naked, one absurd tuft of blossom and leaves at the

-tip--the murdered tree now stood in the moonlight, imploring the _coup

-de grace_ which should end its shame.

-

-"Jolly well done," said the murderer complacently. He stretched his

-arms, looked at the palms of his hands to see if they had blistered,

-and addressed himself to the second part of his business. Thud! thud!

-went the axe on the trunk of the tree, and the sweat broke out all

-over Carnaby's skin, not with exertion but with nervous terror.

-

-"If that doesn't wake the dead!" he thought--but there was no awaking

-in the cottage. Its tiny window blinked in the moonlight, and Carnaby

-thought he heard the drowsy quack of a duck in an out-house. But the

-danger passed. Thud! went the axe again. The slim severed shaft of the

-tree was poised a moment, motionless, erect before it fell. Then it

-subsided gently among its broken and trodden boughs, and Carnaby's

-task was done.

-

-

-

-

-XXII

-

-CONSEQUENCES

-

-

-Early that morning before the sun had risen, when the light was still

-grey in the coming dawn, Robinette was awakened by a bird that called

-out from a tree close to her open window, every note like the striking

-of a golden bell. She jumped up and looked out, but the little singer,

-silenced, had flown away. Instead, she caught sight of a figure

-stealing across the lawn towards the side door which opened from the

-library. Even in the dim light she could distinguish that it was

-Carnaby, Carnaby with something in his hand. What he carried she could

-not quite make out, but the sleeves of his flannel shirt were rolled

-up above his elbows in a fatally business-like way, and he walked with

-an air of stealth.

-

-"What mischief can that boy have been up to at this time of day?"

-thought Robinette as she lay down again, but she was too sleepy to

-wonder long.

-

-She forgot all about it until she saw Carnaby at the breakfast table

-some hours later. Sometimes the gloom of that meal--never a favorite

-or convivial one in the English household, and most certainly neither

-at Stoke Revel--would be enlivened by some of the boy's pranks. He

-would pass over to the sideboard, pepper-pot slyly in hand, and

-Rupert, whose meal at this hour consisted of grape-nuts and cream,

-would unaccountably sneeze and snuffle over his plate.

-

-"Bless it, Bobs!" his tormentor would exclaim tenderly. "Is it

-catching cold? Poor old Kitchener! Hi! _Kitch!_ _Kitch!_" (like a

-violent sneeze) and the outraged Rupert would forget grape-nuts and

-pepper alike in a fit of impotent fury. But this morning the dog fed

-in peace and Carnaby never glanced at him or his basin. Robinette,

-looking at the boy and remembering where she had seen him last,

-noticed that he was rather silent, that his cheeks were redder than

-common, and that under his eyes were lines of fatigue not usually

-there.

-

-"What were you doing on the lawn at four o'clock this morning?" she

-began, but checked herself, suddenly thinking that if Carnaby had been

-up to mischief she must not allude to it before his grandmother.

-

-No one had heard her. The meal dragged on. Robinette and Lavendar

-talked little. Miss Smeardon was preoccupied with the sufferings and

-the moods of Rupert. Mrs. de Tracy alone seemed in better spirits than

-usual; she was talkative and even balmy.

-

-"The work at the spinney begins to-day," she observed complacently,

-addressing herself to Lavendar and alluding to the rooting up of an

-old copse and the planting of a new one--an improvement she had long

-planned, though hitherto in vain. "The young trees have arrived."

-

-"But where is the money to come from?" enquired Carnaby suddenly, in

-a sepulchral tone. (His voice was at the disagreeable breaking stage,

-an agony and a shame to himself and always a surprise to others.) His

-grandmother stared: the others, too, looked in astonishment at the

-boy's red face.

-

-"I thought it had all been explained to you, Carnaby," said Mrs. de

-Tracy, "but you take so little interest in the estate that I suppose

-what you have been told went in at one ear and out at the other, as

-usual! It is the sale of land at Wittisham which makes these

-improvements possible, advantages drawn from a painful necessity," and

-the iron woman almost sighed.

-

-"There won't be any sale of land at Wittisham,--at least, not of Mrs.

-Prettyman's cottage," said Carnaby abruptly.

-

-"It is practically settled. The transfers only remain to be signed;

-you know that, Carnaby," said Lavendar curtly. He did not wish the

-vexed question to be raised again at a meal.

-

-"It _was_ practically settled--but it's all off now," said the boy,

-looking hard at his grandmother. "Waller R. A. won't want the place

-any more. The bloomin' plum tree's gone--cut down. The bargain's off,

-and old Mrs. Prettyman can stay on in her cottage as long as she

-likes!"

-

-There was a freezing silence, broken only by the stertorous breathing

-of Rupert on Miss Smeardon's lap.

-

-"Repeat, please, what you have just said, Carnaby," said his

-grandmother with dangerous calmness, "and speak distinctly."

-

-"I said that the cottage at Wittisham won't be sold because the plum

-tree's gone," repeated Carnaby doggedly. "It's been cut down."

-

-"How do you know?"

-

-"I've seen it." Carnaby raised his eyes. "I cut it down myself," he

-added, "this morning before daylight."

-

-"Who put such a thing into your head?" Mrs. de Tracy's words were ice:

-her glance of suspicion at Robinette, like the cold thrust of steel.

-"Who told you to cut the plum tree down?"

-

-"My conscience!" was Carnaby's unexpected reply. He was as red as

-fire, but his glance did not falter. Mrs. de Tracy rose. Not a muscle

-of her face had moved.

-

-"Whatever your action has been, Carnaby," she said with dignity--"whether

-foolish and disgraceful, or criminal and dangerous, it cannot be

-discussed here. You will follow me at once to the library, and

-presently I may send for Mark. A lawyer's advice will probably be

-necessary," she added grimly.

-

-Carnaby said not a word. He opened the door for his grandmother and

-followed her out; but as he passed Robinette, he looked at her

-earnestly, half expecting her applause; for one of the motives in his

-boyish mind had certainly been to please her--to shine in her eyes as

-the doer of bold deeds and to avenge her nurse's wrongs. And all that

-he had managed was to make her cry!

-

-For Robinette had put her elbows on the table and had covered her eyes

-with her hands. As he left the room, Carnaby could hear her

-exclamation:--

-

-"To cut down that tree! That beautiful, beautiful, fruitful thing! O!

-how could anyone do it?"

-

-So this was justice; this was all he got for his pains! How

-unaccountable women were!

-

-Lavendar awaited some time his summons to join Mrs. de Tracy and her

-grandson in what seemed to him must be a portentous interview enough,

-trying meanwhile somewhat unsuccessfully to console Mrs. Loring for

-the destruction of the plum tree, and exchanging with her somewhat

-awe-struck comments on the scene they had both just witnessed. No

-summons came, however; but half an hour later, he came across Carnaby

-alone, and an interview promptly ensued. He wanted to plumb the depth

-of the boy-mind and to learn exactly what motives had prompted

-Carnaby to this sudden and startling action in the matter of the plum

-tree.

-

-"Had you a bad quarter of an hour with your grandmother?" was his

-first question. Carnaby, he thought, looked subdued, and not much

-wonder.

-

-The boy hesitated.

-

-"Not so bad as I expected," was his answer. "The old lady was

-wonderfully decent, for her. She gave me a talking to, of course."

-

-"I should hope so!" interpolated Lavendar drily.

-

-"She jawed away about our poverty," continued Carnaby. "She's got

-that on the brain, as you know. She said that this loss of the

-money--Waller R. A.'s money, she means, of course--is an awful blow.

-She _said_ it was, but it seemed to me--" Carnaby paused, looking

-extremely puzzled.

-

-"It seemed to you--?" prompted Lavendar encouragingly.

-

-"That she wasn't so awfully cut up, after all," said Carnaby. "She

-seemed putting it on, if you know what I mean." Lavendar pricked up

-his ears. Mrs. de Tracy's intense reluctance to sell the land recurred

-to him in a flash. To get her consent had been like drawing a tooth,

-like taking her life-blood drop by drop. Could it be that she was not

-very sorry after all that the scheme had fallen through, secretly

-glad, indeed? It was conceivable that this was Mrs. de Tracy's view,

-but her grandson's motive was still obscure.

-

-"Why did you do it, Carnaby?" Lavendar asked with kindness and gravity

-both in his voice. "You have committed a very mischievous action, you

-know, one that would have borne a harsher name had the transfers been

-signed and had the plum tree changed hands."

-

-"But then I shouldn't have done it--you--you juggins, Mark!" cried the

-boy. "I've no earthly grudge against Waller R. A. If he'd actually

-bought the tree, it would have been too late, and his beastly

-money--"

-

-"You need the money, you know," remarked Lavendar. "Remember that, my

-young friend!"

-

-"It would have been dirty money!" said Carnaby, with a sudden

-flash that lit up his rather heavy face with a new expression.

-"You and Cousin Robin have been jolly polite when you thought I was

-listening, but _I_ know what you really thought, and the kind of

-things you were saying to one another about this business! You

-thought it beastly mean to take the cottage away from old Lizzie

-in the way it was being done, and sheer robbery to deprive her of

-the plum tree without paying her for it. I quite agreed with you

-there, and if I felt like that, do you think I could sit still and

-let the money come in to Stoke Revel--money that had been got in

-such a way? What do you take me for?" Lavendar was silent, looking

-at the boy in surprise. "Oh," continued Carnaby, "how I wish I were

-of age! Then I could show Cousin Robin, perhaps, what an English

-landlord can be! I mean that he can be a friend to his tenants, and

-kind and generous as well as just. As it is, Cousin Robin will go

-back to America and tell her friends what selfish brutes we are

-over here, and how jolly glad she was to get away!"

-

-"Mrs. Loring will carry no tales, I am sure," said Lavendar. "But tell

-me, my dear fellow, did you imagine that Mrs. Prettyman would be a

-gainer by your action?"

-

-"Well, why not?" answered the boy. "Didn't you tell me yourself that

-Waller R. A. wouldn't look at the cottage without the tree? What's to

-prevent the old woman living on where she is? Do you think there'll be

-a rush of new tenants for that precious old hovel? Go on! You know

-better than that!"

-

-"But the tree, Carnaby, the plum tree!" cried Lavendar. "My young

-Goth, hadn't you a moment's compunction? That beautiful, flowering

-thing, as your cousin called it; could you destroy it without a

-pang?"

-

-"The _tree_?" echoed Carnaby with unmeasured scorn. "What's a tree?

-It's just a tree, isn't it?"

-

-                    "A primrose by a river's brim

-                    A yellow primrose was to him,

-                    And it was nothing more!"

-

-quoted Mark, despairingly.

-

-"Well; and what more did he expect of a primrose, whoever the Johnny

-was?" asked the contemptuous Carnaby.

-

-"At any rate," commented Lavendar, "it isn't necessary to search as

-far as Peter Bell for an analogy for your character, my young friend!

-You are your grandmother's grandson after all!"

-

-"In some ways I suppose I can't help being," answered Carnaby soberly,

-"but not in all," he added, and suddenly turning red he fumbled in his

-pocket and produced a coin which he held out to Lavendar. "It's only

-ten bob," he said apologetically, "and I wish it was a jolly sight

-more! But please give it to old Mrs. Prettyman to make up a bit for

-the loss of her plums. Daresay I'll manage some more by and by.

-Anyway, I'll make it up to her when I come of age.--I'm nearly sixteen

-already, you know. Be sure you tell her that!"

-

-But Lavendar refused to take the money.

-

-"Mrs. Prettyman is provided for, my boy," he said. "She has become

-your cousin's especial care. You need have no fear about that. The

-poor old woman is very happy and will have a cottage more suited for

-her rheumatism and her general feebleness than the present one. But I

-think your cousin will understand your motives and believe that you

-meant well by old Lizzie in your little piece of midnight madness."

-

-"Though I was a bit rough on the plum tree!" said Carnaby, with a

-broad smile.

-

-"You think it's a laughing matter?" Lavendar asked indignantly. "I

-wish you had my father to deal with, and Waller R. A.! It's all very

-well for you."

-

-But Carnaby only laughed. The blood was still hot in his veins, and

-the joy of his night's adventure. Mark told him that he and Mrs.

-Loring were crossing the river at once to see for themselves the

-extent of his mischief and what effect it had had upon old Mrs.

-Prettyman. Carnaby observed with diabolical meaning that as he had not

-been invited to join the party, he would make himself scarce.

-Gooseberries, he said, were very good fruit, but he wasn't fond of

-them; so he lounged off with his hands in his pockets. Suddenly he

-turned. "See here, old Mark! You'll speak a word for me with Cousin

-Robin, won't you? It's hard on me to have her hate me when I was

-trying to do my best to please her."

-

-"She won't hate you; she couldn't hate anybody," said Lavendar

-absently, watching first the door and then the window.

-

-"You say that because you're in love with her! I've a couple of eyes

-in my head, stupid as you all think me. You can deny it all you like,

-but you won't convince me!"

-

-"I shan't deny it, Carnaby. I am so much in love with her at this

-moment that the room is whirling round and round and I can see two of

-you!"

-

-"Poor old Mark! Do you think she'll take you on?"

-

-"Can't say, Carnaby!"

-

-"You're a lucky beggar if she does; that's my opinion!" said the boy.

-

-"Put it as strong as you like, Carnaby," Lavendar answered. "You can't

-exaggerate my feelings on that subject!"

-

-"If you hadn't fifteen years' start of me I'd give you a run for your

-money!" exclaimed Carnaby with a daring look.

-

-

-

-

-XXIII

-

-DEATH AND LIFE

-

-

-While these incidents were taking place at the Manor House, village

-life at Wittisham had been stirring for hours. Thin blue threads of

-smoke were rising from the other cottages into the windless air: only

-from Nurse Prettyman's there was none. Duckie in the out-house quacked

-and gabbled as she had quacked and gabbled since the light began, yet

-no one came to let her out and feed her. The halfpenny jug of milk had

-been placed on the doorstep long ago, but Mrs. Prettyman had not yet

-opened the door to take it in.

-

-Outside in the garden, where the plum tree stood yesterday, there was

-now only a stump, hacked and denuded, and round about it a ruin of

-broken branches, leaves, and scattered blossoms. Over the wreck the

-bees were busy still, taking what they could of the honey that

-remained; and in the air was the strong odour of juicy green wood and

-torn bark.

-

-The children who brought the milk were the first to discover what had

-happened, and very soon the news spread amongst the other cottagers.

-Then came two neighbours to the scene, wondering and exclaiming. They

-went to the door, but Mrs. Prettyman did not answer their knock or

-their calling. Mrs. Darke looked in through the tiny window.

-

-"She be sleepin' that peaceful in 'er bed in there," she said, "it 'ud

-be a shame to wake 'er. She's deaf now, and belike she never 'eard the

-tree come down, 'ooever's done it. But I'll go and see after Duckie:

-she's makin' noise enough to rouse 'er, anyway."

-

-Then Duckie was released and fed and departed to gabble her wrongs to

-the other white ducks that were preening themselves amongst the deep

-green grass of the adjacent orchard.

-

-"You can 'ear that bird a mile away--she's never done talking!" said

-Mrs. Darke as the indignant gabble grew fainter in the distance. "But

-'ere's my old man a-come to look at the plum tree. Wonder what he'll

-say to it? This be a queer job, sure enough!"

-

-Old Darke, on two sticks, hobbled towards the scene of desolation with

-grunts of mingled satisfaction and dismay. 'Twas a rare sensation,

-though a pity, to be sure!

-

-Mrs. Darke stood by the well at the turn of the road, keeping a sharp

-eye on the cottage while she gossiped with the neighbour who was

-filling her pitcher. She did not want to miss the sight of Mrs.

-Prettyman's face when she opened her door and found out what had

-happened.

-

-"She be sleepin' too long; I'll go and waken her in a minute," said

-Mrs. Darke. "'Tis but right she should be told what's come to 'er

-tree, poor thing."

-

-Then a beggar woman selling bootlaces came along the shore of the

-river; she mounted the cottage steps and the gossips watched her

-trailing up the pathway in her loose old shoes, and knocking at the

-door. She waited for a few minutes: there was no answer, so she turned

-away resignedly and trailed off along the sun-lit lane, in-shore,

-leaving the garden gate swinging to and fro.

-

-"There's summat the matter!" Mrs. Darke had just whispered with

-evident enjoyment, when some one else was seen approaching the cottage

-from the direction of the pier. It was the young lady from the Manor,

-this time. She wore a white dress and a green scarf, and her face was

-tinted with colour. She looked like a young blossoming tree herself,

-all lacy white and pale green, a strange morning vision in a

-work-a-day world! Robinette ran quickly up the pathway and knocked at

-the door, but there was no answer to her knock. She called out in her

-clear voice:--

-

-"Good morning, Nurse! Good morning! Aren't you ready to let me in?

-It's quite late!" But there was no answer to her call. She was just

-trying to open the door, which seemed to be locked, when a gentleman

-came up from the boat and followed her to the cottage. That, the women

-who were watching her thought quite natural, for surely such a young

-lady would be followed by a lover wherever she went! Indeed, Mrs.

-Darke said so.

-

-"'Tis in that there kind," she observed philosophically, "like the

-cuckoo and the bird that follows; never sees one wi'out the other!"

-

-"'Tis quite that way, Mrs. Darke," agreed the neighbour, approvingly.

-

-Robinette turned a white face to Lavendar as he approached.

-

-"Nurse won't answer, and I can't get in!" she cried. "Something must

-have happened. I--I'm afraid to go in alone. The door is locked,

-too."

-

-"It's not locked," said Lavendar, and exerting a little strength, he

-pushed it open and gave a quick glance inside. "I'll go in first," he

-said gently. "Wait here."

-

-He came again to the threshold in a few minutes, a peculiar expression

-on his face which somehow seemed to tell Robinette what had happened.

-

-"Come in, Mrs. Robin," he said very gravely and gently. "You need not

-be afraid."

-

-Robinette instinctively held out her hand to him and they entered the

-little room together.

-

-She need not have feared for the old woman's distress over the ruined

-plum tree, for nothing would ever grieve Nurse Prettyman again. Just

-as she had lain down the night before, she lay upon her bed now,

-having passed away in her sleep. "And they that encounter Death in

-sleep," says the old writer, "go forth to meet him with desire." The

-aged face was turned slightly upwards and wore a look of contentment

-and repose that made life seem almost gaudy; a cheap thing to compare

-with this attainment....

-

-Robinette came out of the cottage a little later, leaving the

-neighbours who had gathered in the room to their familiar and not

-uncongenial duties. She went into the garden, where Mark Lavendar

-awaited her. He longed to try to comfort her; indeed, his whole heart

-ran out to her in a warmth and passion that astounded him; but her

-pale face, stained with weeping, warned him to keep silence yet a

-little while.

-

-"I just came for one branch of the blossom," Robinette said, "if it is

-not all withered. Yes, this is quite fresh still." She took a little

-spray he had found for her and stood holding it as she spoke. "Only

-yesterday it was all so lovely! Oh! Mr. Lavendar, I needn't cry for my

-old Nurse, I'm sure! How should I, after seeing her face? She had come

-to the end of her long life, and she was very tired, and now all that

-is forgotten, and she will never have a moment of vexation about her

-tree. I don't know why I should cry for her; but oh, how could

-Carnaby destroy that beautiful thing!"

-

-"It was a genuine though mistaken act of conscience! You must not be

-too hard on Carnaby!" pleaded Lavendar. "He would not touch the money

-that was to come from the sale of Mrs. Prettyman's cottage under the

-circumstances, so it seemed best to him that the sale should not take

-place, and he prevented it in the directest and simplest way that

-occurred to him. It's like some of the things that men have done to

-please God, Mrs. Robin," Mark added, smiling, "and thought they were

-doing it, too! But Carnaby only wanted to please you!"

-

-"To _please_ me!" exclaimed Robinette, looking round her at the ruin

-before them. "Oh dear!" she sighed, "how confusing the world is, at

-times! I am just going to take this snowy branch and lay it on Nurse's

-pillow. She so loved her tree! See; it's quite fresh and beautiful,

-and the dew still upon it, just like tears!"

-

-"That seemed just right," said Robinette softly as she came out into

-the sunshine again, a few minutes later. "I laid the blossoms in her

-kind old tired hands, the hands that have known so much work and so

-many pains. It is over, and after all, her new home is better than any

-I could have found for her!"

-

-The two walked slowly down the little garden on their way to the gate.

-As they passed, old Mr. Darke, who had hobbled around again to have

-another look at the fallen tree, addressed Lavendar solemnly.

-

-"Best tree in Wittisham 'e was, sir," touching the ruin of the

-branches as he spoke. "'Ooever could ha' thought o' sich a piece of

-wickedness as to cut 'im down? Murder, I calls it! 'Tis well as Mrs.

-Prettyman be gone to 'er rest wi'out knowledge of it; 'twould 'ave

-broken her old 'eart, for certain sure!"

-

-"It nearly breaks mine to see it now, Mr. Darke!" said Robinette in a

-trembling voice. But the old labourer bent down, moving his creaking

-joints with difficulty and steadying himself upon his sticks till he

-could touch the stump of the tree with his rough but skilful hands. He

-pushed away the long grass that grew about the roots and looked up at

-Robinette with a wise old smile.

-

-"'Tisn't dead and done for yet, Missy, never fear!" he said. "Give 'im

-time; give 'im time! 'E's cut above the graft--see! 'E'll grow and

-shoot and bear blossom and fruit same as ever 'e did, given time. See

-to the fine stock of 'im; firm as a rock in the good ground! And the

-roots, they be sound and fresh. 'E'll grow again, Missy; never you

-cry!"

-

-Robinette looked so beautiful as she lifted her luminous eyes and

-parted lips to old Darke, and then turned to him with a gesture of

-hope and joy, that again Lavendar could hardly keep from avowing his

-love; but the remembrance of the old nurse's still shape in the little

-cottage hushed the words that trembled on his lips.

-

-

-

-

-XXIV

-

-GRANDMOTHER AND GRANDSON

-

-

-The disagreeable duty of announcing Mrs. Prettyman's death to the lady

-of the Manor now lay before Lavendar and his companion, and the

-thought of it weighed upon their spirits as they crossed the river.

-Carnaby also must be told. How would he take it? Robinette, still

-under the shock of the plum tree's undoing, expected perhaps some

-further exhibition of youthful callousness, but Lavendar knew better.

-

-In their concern and sorrow, the young couple had forgotten all minor

-matters such as meals, and luncheon had long been over when they

-reached the house. They could see Mrs. de Tracy's figure in the

-drawing room as they passed the windows, occupying exactly her usual

-seat in her usual attitude. It was her hour for reading and

-disapproving of the daily paper.

-

-Robinette and Lavendar entered quietly, but nothing in the gravity of

-their faces struck Mrs. de Tracy as strange.

-

-"I have a disturbing piece of news to give you," Mark began, clearing

-his throat. "Mrs. Prettyman died last night in her cottage at

-Wittisham."

-

-The erect figure in the widow's weeds remained motionless. Perhaps the

-old hand that lowered the newspaper trembled somewhat, so that its

-diamonds quivered a little more than usual.

-

-"So Mrs. Prettyman is dead?" she said. Then, as the young people stood

-looking at her with an air of some expectancy, she added with a sour

-glance, "Do you expect me to be very much agitated by the news?"

-

-"The death was unexpected," began Lavendar lamely.

-

-"She was seventy-five; my age!" said Mrs. de Tracy with a wintry

-smile. "Is death at seventy-five so unexpected an event?"

-

-Lavendar said nothing; he had nothing to say, and Robinette for

-the same reason was silent. She was gazing at her aunt, almost

-unconsciously, with a wondering look. "At any rate," continued Mrs.

-de Tracy, addressing her niece, "your _protegee_ has been fortunate

-in two ways, Robinette. She will neither be turned out of her

-cottage nor see the destruction of her plum tree. By the way--"

-with a perfectly natural change of tone, dismissing at once both

-Mrs. Prettyman and Death--"the plum tree _is_ down, I suppose? You

-saw it?"

-

-"Very much down!" answered Lavendar. "And certainly we saw it! Carnaby

-does nothing by halves!"

-

-A slight change, a kind of shade of softening, passed over Mrs. de

-Tracy's stern features, as the shadow of a summer cloud may pass over

-a rocky hill. She turned suddenly to Robinette. "Can you tell me on

-your word of honour that you had nothing to do with Carnaby's action;

-that you did not put it into his head to cut the plum tree down!"

-

-"I?" exclaimed Robinette, scarlet with indignation. "_I?_ Why--do you

-want to know what I think of the action? I think it was perfectly

-brutal, and the boy who did it next door to a criminal! There!"

-

-Mrs. de Tracy seemed convinced by the energy of this disclaimer. "I

-have always considered yours a very candid character," she observed

-with condescension. "I believe you when you say that you did not

-influence Carnaby in the matter, though I strongly suspected you

-before."

-

-"Well, upon my word!" ejaculated Robinette when they had got out of

-the room, too completely baffled to be more original. "What does she

-mean? Has any one ever understood the workings of Aunt de Tracy's

-mind?"

-

-"Don't come to me for any more explanations! I've done my best for my

-client!" cried Lavendar. "I give up my brief! I always told you Mrs.

-de Tracy's character was entirely singular."

-

-"Let us hope so!" commented Robinette with energy. "I should be sorry

-for the world if it were plural!"

-

-                  *       *       *       *       *

-

-Carnaby was not in the house, and Lavendar proceeded to look for him

-out of doors. He knew the boy was often to be found in a high part of

-the grounds behind the garden, where he had some special resort of his

-own, and he went there first. The afternoon had clouded over, and a

-slight shower was falling, as Mark followed the wooded path leading up

-hill. A rock-garden bordered it, where ferns and flowers were growing,

-each one of which seemed to be contributing some special and delicate

-fragrance to the damp, warm air. The beech trees here had low and

-spreading branches which framed now and again exquisite glimpses of

-the river far below and the wooded hills beyond it.

-

-Lavendar had not gone far when he found Carnaby, Carnaby intensely

-perturbed, walking up and down by himself.

-

-"You don't need to tell me!" said the boy, with a quick and agitated

-gesture of the hand. "Bates told me. Old Mrs. Prettyman's dead!" His

-merry, square-set face was changed and looked actually haggard, and

-his eyes searched Lavendar's with an expression oddly different from

-their usual fearless and straightforward one. They seemed afraid. "Was

-it my grandmother's--was it our fault?" he asked. "I, I feel like a

-murderer. Upon my soul, I do!"

-

-"Don't encourage morbid ideas, my dear fellow!" said Lavendar in a

-matter-of-fact tone. "There's trouble enough in the world without

-foolish exaggeration. Mrs. Prettyman was 'grave-ripe,' as she often

-said to your cousin; a very feeble old woman, whose time had come. The

-doctor's certificate will tell you how rheumatism had affected her

-heart, and the neighbours would very soon set your mind at rest by

-describing the number of times poor old Lizzie had nearly died

-before."

-

-"Think of it, though!" said Carnaby with wondering eyes. "Think of her

-lying dead in the cottage while I hacked and hewed at the plum tree

-just outside! By Jove! it makes a fellow feel queer!" He shuddered.

-The picture he evoked was certainly a strange one enough: a strange

-picture in the moonlight of a night in spring; the doomed beauty of

-the blossoming tree, the blind, headstrong human energy working for

-its destruction, and Death over all, stealthy and strong!

-

-"What an ass I was!" said Carnaby, summing up the situation in the

-only language in which he could express himself. "Sweating and stewing

-and hacking away--thinking myself so awfully clever! And all the time

-things ... things were being arranged in quite a different manner!"

-

-"We are often made to feel our insignificance in ways like this,"

-said Lavendar. "We are very small atoms, Carnaby, in the path of the

-great forces that sweep us on."

-

-"I should rather think so!" assented the wondering boy. "And yet, can

-a fellow sit tight all the time and just wait till things happen?"

-

-"Ask me something else!" suggested Lavendar ironically.

-

-There was a short pause. "I'm awfully sorry old Mrs. Prettyman's

-dead," Carnaby said in a very subdued tone. "I meant to do a lot for

-her, to try and make up for my grandmother's being such a beast." He

-stopped short, and to Lavendar's astonishment, his face worked, and

-two tears squeezed themselves out of his eyes and rolled over his

-round cheeks as they might have done over a baby's. "It's the j-jam I

-was thinking of," he sniffed. "Once a pal of mine and I were playing

-the fool in old Mrs. Prettyman's garden, pretending to steal the

-plums, and giving her duck bits of bread steeped in beer to make it

-s-squiffy (a duck can be just as drunk as a chap). She didn't mind a

-bit. She was a regular old brick, and gave us a jolly good tea and a

-pot of jam to take away.... And now she's dead and--and...." Carnaby's

-feelings became too much for him again, and a handkerchief that had

-seen better and much cleaner days came into play. Lavendar flung an

-arm round the boy's shoulder.

-

-"This kind of regret comes to us all, Carnaby," he said. "I don't

-suppose there's a man with a heart in his breast who hasn't sometime

-had to say to himself, I might have done better: I might have been

-kinder: it's too late now! But it's never too late!" added Lavendar

-under his breath--"not where Love is!"

-

-The shower was over, and though the sun had not come out, a pleasant

-light lay upon the river as the friends walked down; upon the river

-beyond which old Lizzie Prettyman was sleeping so peacefully, the

-sleep of kings and beggars, and just and unjust, and rich and poor

-alike. Carnaby had dried his eyes but continued in a pensive mood.

-

-"Cousin Robin's still angry with me about the tree," he said,

-uncertainly.

-

-"She won't be angry long!" Lavendar assured him. "You and your Cousin

-Robin are going to be firm friends, friends for life."

-

-Carnaby seemed a good deal comforted. "Mind you don't tell her I

-blubbered!" he said in sudden alarm. "Swear!"

-

-"She wouldn't think a bit the worse of you for that!" said Lavendar.

-

-"Swear, though!" repeated Carnaby in deadly earnest.

-

-And Lavendar swore, of course.

-

-                  *       *       *       *       *

-

-But an influence very unlike Lavendar's and a spirit very different

-from Robinette's enfolded Carnaby de Tracy in his home and fought, as

-it were, for his soul. That night, after the last lamp had been put

-out by the careful Bates, and after Benson had bade a respectful

-good-night to her mistress, a light still burned in Mrs. de Tracy's

-room. Presently, carried in her hand, it flitted out along the silent

-passages, past rows of doors which were closed upon empty rooms or

-upon unconscious sleepers, till it came to Carnaby's door; to the

-Boys' Room, as that far-away and most unluxurious apartment had always

-been called. Mrs. de Tracy was making a pilgrimage to the shrine of

-one of her gods. She opened the door, and closing it gently behind

-her, she stood beside Carnaby's bed and looked at him, intently and

-haggardly.

-

-Mrs. de Tracy's was a singular character, as Mark Lavendar had said.

-The circumstances of her widowhood with its heavy responsibilities had

-perhaps hardly been fair to her. There had been little room for the

-kindlier and softer feelings, though it is to be feared that they

-would not have found much congenial soil in her heart. The personal

-selfishness in her had long been merged in the greater and harder

-selfishness of caste; she had become a mere machine for the keeping up

-of Stoke Revel.

-

-But to-night she was moved by the positively human sentiment which had

-been stirred in her by Carnaby's startling act of cutting the plum

-tree down. Ah! let fools believe if they could that she was angry with

-the boy! She had never felt anger less or pride more. While others

-talked and argued, shilly-shallied, made love, muddled and made

-mistakes, her grandson, the man of the race that always ruled, had cut

-the knot for himself, without hesitation and without compunction,

-without consulting anyone or asking anyone's leave. That was the way

-the de Tracys had always acted. And it seemed to Mrs. de Tracy a

-crowning coincidence, a fitting kind of poetical justice, that

-Carnaby's action should actually have prevented the sale of the land;

-that dreaded, detestable sale of the first land that the de Tracys

-had held upon the banks of the river.

-

-So, since Carnaby was to be a man of the right kind, his grandmother

-had come to look at him, not in love, as other women come to such

-bedsides, but in pride of heart. The boy, after his "white night" at

-Wittisham and the varied emotions of the succeeding day, lay on his

-side, in the deep, recuperative sleep of youth whence its energies are

-drawn and in which its vigors are renewed. His round cheek indented

-the pillow, his rumpled hair stirred in the breeze that blew in at the

-window, his arm and his open hand, relaxed, lay along the sheet.

-Another woman would have straightened the bed-clothes above him;

-another might have touched his hair or hand; another kissed his cheek.

-But not even because he was like her departed husband, like the man

-who five and fifty years before had courted a certain cold and proud,

-handsome and penniless Miss Augusta Gallup, would Mrs. de Tracy do

-these things. She had had her sensation, such as it was, her secret

-moment of emotion, and was satisfied. She left the room as she had

-come, the candle casting exaggerated shadows of herself upon the walls

-where Carnaby's bats and fishing rods and sporting prints hung.

-

-It is sad to be old as Mrs. de Tracy was old, but her age was of her

-own making, a shrinkage of the heart, a drying up of the wells of

-feeling that need not have been.

-

-"I should be better out of the way," her bitterness said within her,

-and alas! it was true. Her great, gaunt room seemed very lonely, very

-full of shadows when she returned to it. Rupert, who always slept at

-her bedside, awaited her. Disturbed at this unwonted hour, he stirred

-in his basket, wheezed and gurgled, turned round and round and could

-not get comfortable, whined, and looked up in his mistress's face. She

-stood watching him with a sort of grim pity, and, strangely enough,

-bestowed upon him the caress she had not found for her grandson.

-

-"Poor Rupert! You are getting too old, like your mistress! Your

-departure, like hers, will be a sorrow to no one!" Rupert seemed to

-wheeze an asthmatical consent, and presently he snuggled down in his

-basket and went to sleep.

-

-

-

-

-XXV

-

-THE BELLS OF STOKE REVEL

-

-

-On Sunday morning Robinette and Lavendar were both ready for church,

-by some strange coincidence, half an hour too soon. He was standing at

-the door as she came down into the hall. Mrs. de Tracy and Miss

-Smeardon were nowhere to be seen; even Carnaby was invisible, but the

-shrill, infuriated yelping of the Prince Charles from the drawing room

-indicated his whereabouts only too plainly.

-

-"We're much too early," said Robinette, glancing at the clock.

-

-"Shall we walk through the buttercup meadow, then--you and I?" asked

-Lavendar. His voice was low, and Robinette answered very softly. She

-wore a white dress that morning without a touch of colour.

-

-"I couldn't wear black to-day for Nurse," she said, in answer to his

-glance, "but I couldn't wear any colour, either."

-

-"You're as white as the plum tree was!" said Lavendar. "I remember

-thinking that it looked like a bride." Robinette made no reply. He

-ventured to look up at her as he spoke, and she was smiling although

-her lip quivered and her eyes were full of tears. Lavendar's heart

-beat uncomfortably fast as they walked through the meadow towards the

-stile which led into the churchyard.

-

-"It's too soon to go in yet," he said. "The bells haven't begun."

-

-"Let's stop here. It's cool in the shadow," said Robinette. She leaned

-on the wall and looked out at the shining reaches of the river. "The

-swelling of Jordan is over now," she said with a little smile and a

-sigh. "The tide has come up, and how quiet everything is!"

-

-The water mirrored the hills and the ships and the gracious sky above

-them. There was scarcely a sound in the air. At the point where they

-stood, the Manor House was hidden from view, and only the squat old

-tower of the church was visible, and the yew tree rising above the

-wall against the golden field. A bush of briar covered with white

-roses hung above them, just behind Robinette, and Lavendar looking at

-her in this English setting on an English Sunday morning, wondered to

-himself, as he had so often done before, if she could ever make this

-country her home.

-

-"Yet she has English blood as well as I," he thought. "Why, the very

-name on the old bells of the church there, records the memory of an

-ancestress of hers! We cannot be so far apart." Looking at her

-standing there, he rehearsed to himself all that he meant to say, oh,

-a great many things both true and eloquent, but at that moment every

-word forsook him. Yet this was probably the best opportunity he would

-have of telling her what was burning in his heart: telling her how she

-had beguiled him at first by her quick understanding and her

-frolicsome wit, because all that sort of thing was so new to him. She

-had come like a mountain spring to a thirsty man. He had been groping

-for inspiration and for help: now he seemed to find them all in her.

-She was so much more than charming, though it was her charm that first

-impressed him; so much more than pretty, though her face attracted him

-at first; so much more than magnetic, though she drew him to her at

-their first meeting with bonds as delicate as they were strong. These

-were tangible, vital, legitimate qualities--but were they all? Could

-lips part so, could eyes shine so, could voice tremble so, if there

-were not something underneath; a good heart, fidelity, warmth of

-nature?

-

-"For the first time," he thought, "I long to be worthy of a woman. But

-I would not tell her how I love her at this moment, unless I felt I

-need not be wholly unequal to her demands. I have never desired

-anything strongly enough to struggle for it, up to now; but she has

-set my springs in motion, and I can work for her until I die!"

-

-All this he thought, but never a word he said. Then the church clock

-struck and the clashing bells began. They shook the air, the earth,

-the ancient stones, the very nests upon the trees, and sent the rooks

-flying black as ink against the yellow buttercups in the meadow.

-

-"We must go, in a few minutes," said Robinette. "Oh, will you pull me

-some of those white roses up there?"

-

-Lavendar swung himself up and drawing down a bunch he pulled off two

-white buds.

-

-"Will you take them?" he asked, holding them out to her. Then suddenly

-he said, very low and very humbly, "Oh, take me too; take me,

-Robinette, though no man was ever so unworthy!"

-

-Robinette laid the roses on the wall beside her.

-

-"For my part," she said, turning to Lavendar with a little laugh that

-was half a sob; "for my part, I like giving better than taking!" She

-put both her hands in his and looked into his face. "Here is my

-life," she said simply. "I want to belong to you, to help you, to live

-by your side."

-

-"I oughtn't to take you at your word," he said, his voice choked with

-emotion. "You are far too good for me!"

-

-"Hush," Robinetta answered, putting a finger on his lip; "it isn't a

-question of how great you are or how wonderful: it's a question of

-what we can be to each other. I'd rather have you than the Duke of

-Wellington or Marcus Aurelius, and I believe you wouldn't change me

-for Helen of Troy!"

-

-"I have nothing to bring you, nothing," said Lavendar again, "nothing

-but my love and my whole heart."

-

-"If all the kingdoms of the earth were offered to me instead, I would

-still take you and what you give me," Robinette answered.

-

-Lavendar laid his cheek against her bright hair and sighed deeply. In

-that sigh there passed away all former things, and behold, all things

-became new. Two cuckoos answered each other from opposite banks of the

-river and two hearts sang songs of joy that met and mingled and

-floated upward.

-

-Again the bells broke out overhead, filling the air with music that

-had rung from them ever since just such another morning hundreds of

-years before, when they rang their first peal from the church tower,

-bearing the legend newly cut upon them: "Pray for the Soul of Anne de

-Tracy, 1538." And Anne de Tracy's memory was forgotten--so long

-forgotten--except for the bells that carried her name!

-

-Yet in these same meadows that she must have known, spring was come

-once more. The Devonshire plum trees had budded and blossomed and shed

-their petals year after year, and year after year, since the bells

-first swung in the air; and now Hope was born once again, and Youth,

-and Love, which is immortal!

-

-

-

-

-The Riverside Press

-

-CAMBRIDGE . MASSACHUSETTS

-

-U . S . A

-

-

-

-

-REBECCA of SUNNYBROOK FARM

-

-By KATE DOUGLAS WIGGIN

-

-"Of all the children of Mrs. Wiggin's brain, the most laughable and

-the most lovable is Rebecca."--_Life, N. Y._

-

-"Rebecca creeps right into one's affections and stays

-there."--_Philadelphia Item._

-

-"A character that is irresistible in her quaint, humorous

-originality."--_Cleveland Leader._

-

-"Rebecca is as refreshing as a draught of spring water."--_Los Angeles

-Times._

-

-"Rebecca has come to stay with one for all time, and delight one

-perpetually, like Marjorie Fleming."--_Literary World, Boston._

-

-HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY

-

-BOSTON AND NEW YORK

-

-

-

-

-THE SIEGE OF THE SEVEN SUITORS

-

-By MEREDITH NICHOLSON

-

-"It is not often that one comes upon so clean a farce, so delightful,

-good-humored satire."--_Chicago Evening Post._

-

-"He has woven wit and humor and clever satire into this airy fantasy

-of twentieth century life in a way that should add to his literary

-fame."--_Indianapolis Star._

-

-"For sheer cleverness of invention and sprightly wit this story has

-had no peer in recent years."--_New York Press._

-

-"Just the sort of book which will delight those seeking clean,

-wholesome entertainment."--_Boston Globe._

-

-"Meredith Nicholson's is a delightful book, witty, epigrammatic,

-flavorsome ... recalls Frank Stockton's bewitching foolery and

-perennial charm."--_Milwaukee Free Press._

-

-HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY

-

-BOSTON AND NEW YORK

-

-

-

-

-A MAN'S MAN

-

-By IAN HAY

-

-"An admirable romance of adventure. It tells of the life of one Hughie

-Marrable, who, from college days to the time when fate relented, had

-no luck with women. The story is cleverly written and full of

-sprightly axioms."--_Philadelphia Ledger._

-

-"It is a very joyous book, and the writer's powers of characterization

-are much out of the common."--_The Dial._

-

-"A good, clean, straightforward bit of fiction, with likable people in

-it, and enough action to keep up the suspense throughout."--_Minneapolis

-Journal._

-

-"The reader will search contemporary fiction far before he meets a novel

-which will give him the same frank pleasure and amusement."--_London

-Bookman._

-

-HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY

-

-BOSTON AND NEW YORK

-

-

-

-

-SCOTTIE AND HIS LADY

-

-By MARGARET MORSE

-

-"The story of a handsome, intelligent collie dog. It is entertainingly

-and sympathetically told, and sure of the absorbed interest of every

-young lover of animals."--_Chicago Daily News._

-

-"Instantly deserves a place with Richard Harding Davis's 'Bar

-Sinister,' Alfred Ollivant's 'Bob, Son of Battle,' and Jack London's

-'Call of the Wild.'"--_Boston Transcript._

-

-"A delightful love story is woven in with the joys and trials of

-Scottie, who finds perfect satisfaction in the happy culmination of

-the romance of his lady."--_Chicago Record-Herald._

-

-HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY

-

-BOSTON AND NEW YORK

-

-

-

-

-JOHN WINTERBOURNE'S FAMILY

-

-By ALICE BROWN

-

-"A delightful and unusual story. The manner in which the hero's male

-solitude is invaded and set right is amusing and eccentric enough to

-have been devised by the late Frank Stockton. It is a story that is

-well worth reading."--_New York Sun._

-

-"Is to be counted among the best novels of this entertaining writer

-... written with a skilful and delicate touch."--_Springfield

-Republican._

-

-"In its literary graces, in its portrayal of characters that are never

-commonplace though genuinely human, and in its development of a singular

-social situation, the book is one to give delight."--_Philadelphia

-Press._

-

-HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY

-

-BOSTON AND NEW YORK

-

-

-

-

-THE PROFESSIONAL AUNT

-

-By MARY C. E. WEMYSS

-

-"One of the most delightful stories that has ever crossed the

-water."--_Louisville Courier-Journal._

-

-"The legitimate successor of 'Helen's Babies.'"--_Clara Louise

-Burnham._

-

-"A classic in the literature of childhood."--_San Francisco

-Chronicle._

-

-"Mrs. Wemyss is a formidable rival to E. Nesbit, who hitherto has

-stood practically alone as a charmingly humorous interpreter of child

-life."--_Chicago Inter-Ocean._

-

-"A charming, witty, tender book."--_Kate Douglas Wiggin._

-

-"It is a sunny, warm-hearted humorous story, that leaves the reader

-with a sense of time well spent in its perusal."--_Brooklyn Eagle._

-

-HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY

-

-BOSTON AND NEW YORK

-

-

-

-

-

-End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Robinetta, by

-Kate Douglas Wiggin and Mary Findlater and Jane Findlater and Allan McAulay

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-The Project Gutenberg EBook of Robinetta, by 

-Kate Douglas Wiggin and Mary Findlater and Jane Findlater and Allan McAulay

-

-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: Robinetta

-

-Author: Kate Douglas Wiggin

-        Mary Findlater

-        Jane Findlater

-        Allan McAulay

-

-Release Date: September 25, 2009 [EBook #30090]

-

-Language: English

-

-Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1

-

-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROBINETTA ***

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-

-

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-Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed

-Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net

-

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-

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-

-

-

-ROBINETTA

-

-

-

-

-By Kate Douglas Wiggin

-

-ROBINETTA. Illustrated. 12mo, $1.10 net. Postage, 10 cents.

-

-REBECCA OF SUNNYBROOK FARM. Holiday Edition. Illustrated. Crown 8vo, $1.50.

-

-SUSANNA AND SUE. Illustrated by Alice Barber Stephens. Crown 8vo, $1.50

-net. Postage 15 cents.

-

-THE OLD PEABODY PEW. With decorations and illustrations. Large crown 8vo,

-$1.50.

-

-REBECCA OF SUNNYBROOK FARM. 12mo, $1.25.

-

-NEW CHRONICLES OF REBECCA. Illustrated by F. C. Yohn. 12mo, $1.25.

-

-ROSE O' THE RIVER. Illustrated in color. 12mo, 1.25.

-

-THE AFFAIR AT THE INN. Illustrated. 12mo, $1.25.

-

-THE DIARY OF A GOOSE GIRL. Illustrated. 12mo, $1.00.

-

-A CATHEDRAL COURTSHIP, AND PENELOPE'S ENGLISH EXPERIENCES. Illustrated.

-16mo, $1.00.

-

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-Edition. With many illustrations by Charles E. Brock. 3 vols., each 12mo,

-$2.00; the set, $6.00.

-

-A CATHEDRAL COURTSHIP. Holiday Edition, enlarged. Illustrated by C. E.

-Brock. 12mo, $1.50.

-

-THE BIRDS' CHRISTMAS CAROL. Illustrated. Square 12mo, 50 cents.

-

-THE STORY OF PATSY. Illustrated. Square 12mo, 60 cents.

-

-A SUMMER IN A CAÑON. A California Story. Illustrated. 16mo, $1.25.

-

-TIMOTHY'S QUEST. A Story for Anybody, Young or Old, who cares to read it.

-16mo, $1.00. Holiday Edition. Illustrated. Crown 8vo, $1.50.

-

-POLLY OLIVER'S PROBLEM. Illustrated. 16mo, $1.00. In Riverside School

-Library. 60 cents, net; postpaid.

-

-THE VILLAGE WATCH-TOWER. 16mo, $1.00.

-

-MARM LISA. 16mo, $1.00.

-

-NINE LOVE SONGS, AND A CAROL. Music by Mrs. Wiggin. Words by Herrick,

-Sill, and others. Square 8vo, $1.25.

-

-HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY

-

-Boston and New York

-

-

-

-

-[Illustration]

-

-

-

-

-ROBINETTA

-

-by

-

-Kate Douglas Wiggin

-

-Mary Findlater

-

-Jane Findlater

-

-Allan McAulay

-

-BOSTON AND NEW YORK

-

-Houghton Mifflin Company

-

-The Riverside Press, Cambridge

-

-

-

-

-COPYRIGHT, 1910 AND 1911, BY KATE DOUGLAS RIGGS

-

-COPYRIGHT, 1911, BY HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY

-

-ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

-

-Published February 1911

-

-

-

-

-CONTENTS

-

-      I. THE PLUM TREE                                               1

-     II. THE MANOR HOUSE                                             7

-    III. YOUNG MRS. LORING                                          19

-     IV. A CHILLY RECEPTION                                         29

-      V. AT WITTISHAM                                               39

-     VI. MARK LAVENDAR                                              54

-    VII. A CROSS-EXAMINATION                                        69

-   VIII. SUNDAY AT STOKE REVEL                                      87

-     IX. POINTS OF VIEW                                             99

-      X. A NEW KINSMAN                                             113

-     XI. THE SANDS AT WESTON                                       127

-    XII. LOVE IN THE MUD                                           151

-   XIII. CARNABY TO THE RESCUE                                     170

-    XIV. THE EMPTY SHRINE                                          181

-     XV. "NOW LUBIN IS AWAY"                                       194

-    XVI. TWO LETTERS                                               210

-   XVII. MRS. DE TRACY CROSSES THE FERRY                           217

-  XVIII. THE STOKE REVEL JEWELS                                    234

-    XIX. LAWYER AND CLIENT                                         250

-     XX. THE NEW HOME                                              260

-    XXI. CARNABY CUTS THE KNOT                                     273

-   XXII. CONSEQUENCES                                              284

-  XXIII. DEATH AND LIFE                                            299

-   XXIV. GRANDMOTHER AND GRANDSON                                  309

-    XXV. THE BELLS OF STOKE REVEL                                  324

-

-

-

-

-ROBINETTA

-

-I

-

-THE PLUM TREE

-

-

-At Wittisham several of the little houses had crept down very close to

-the river. Mrs. Prettyman's cottage was just like a hive made for the

-habitation of some gigantic bee; its pointed roof covered with deep,

-close-cut thatch the colour of a donkey's hide. There were small

-windows under the overhanging eaves, a pathway of irregular flat

-stones ran up to the doorway, and a bit of low wall divided the tiny

-garden from the river. The Plum Tree grew just beside the wall, so

-near indeed that it could look at itself on spring days when the water

-was like a mirror. In autumn the branches on that side of the tree

-were the first to be shaken, lest any of the fruit should fall down

-and be lost. Sometimes a village child treading cautiously on bare

-toes amongst the stones along the narrow margin, would pounce upon a

-plum with a squeal of joy, for although the village was surrounded

-with orchards, the fruit of Mrs. Prettyman's tree had a flavour all

-its own.

-

-The tree had been given to her by a nephew who was a gardener in a

-great fruit orchard in the North, and her husband had planted and

-tended it for years. It began life as a slender thing with two or

-three rods of branches, that looked as if the first wind of winter

-would blow it away, but before the storms came, it had begun to

-trust itself to the new earth, and to root itself with force and

-determination. There were good soil and water near it, and plenty of

-sunshine, and, as is the way of Nature, it set itself to do its own

-business at all seasons, unlike the distracted heart of man. The

-traffic of the river came and went; around the headland the big

-ships were steering in, or going out to sea; and in the village

-the human life went on while the Plum Tree grew high enough to look

-over the wall. Its stem by that time had a firm footing; next it took

-a charming bend to the side, and then again threw out new branches

-in that direction. It turned itself from the prevailing wind, throwing

-a new grace into its attitude, and went on growing; returning in

-blossom and leaves and fruit an hundredfold for all that it received

-from the earth and the sun.

-

-In spring it was enchanting; at first, before the blossoms came out,

-with small bright leaves, and buds like pearls, heaped upon the

-branches; then, later, when the whole tree was white, imaged like a

-bride, in the looking-glass of the river. It only wanted a nightingale

-to sing in it by moonlight. There were no nightingales there, but the

-thrushes sang in the dawning, and the little birds whose voices were

-sweet and thin chirruped about it in crowds, while the larks, trilling

-out the ardour of mating time, sometimes rose from their nests in the

-grass and soared over its topmost branches on their skyward flight.

-

-Spring, therefore, was its merriest time, for then every passer-by

-would cry, "What a beautiful tree!" or "Did ye ever see the likes of

-it?"

-

-There were a few days of inevitable sadness a little later when its

-million petals fell and made a delicate carpet of snow on the ground.

-There they lay in a kind of fairy ring, as if there had been a shower

-of mother-of-pearl in the April night; and no human creature would

-have dared set a vandal foot on that magic circle, and mar the

-perfection of its beauty. All the same the Plum Tree had lost its

-petals, and that was hard to bear at first. But though its Wittisham

-neighbours often said to summer trippers, "I wish you could have seen

-it in blossom!" the Plum Tree did not repine, because of the

-secrets--the thousand, thousand secrets--it held under its leaves.

-"The blossoms were but a promise," it thought, "and soon everybody

-will see the meaning of them."

-

-Then the tiny green globes began to appear on every branch and twig;

-crowding, crowding, crowding till it seemed as if there could never be

-room for so many to grow; but the weaker ones fell from the boughs or

-were blown away when the wind was fierce, so the Plum Tree felt no

-anxiety, knowing that it was built for a large family! The little

-green globes grew and grew, and drank in sweet mother-juices, and

-swelled, and when the summer sun touched their cheeks all day they

-flushed and reddened, till when August came the tree was laden with

-purpling fruit; fruit so tempting that its rosy beauty had sometimes

-to be hidden under a veil of grey fishing net, lest the myriad

-bird-friends it had made during the summer should love it too much for

-its own good.

-

-So the Plum Tree grew and flourished, taking its part in the pageant

-of the seasons, unaware that its existence was to be interwoven with

-that of men; or that creatures of another order of being were to owe

-some changes in their fortunes to its silent obedience to the motive

-of life.

-

-

-

-

-II

-

-THE MANOR HOUSE

-

-

-The long, low drawing room of the Manor at Stoke Revel was the warmest

-and most genial room in the old Georgian house. It was four-windowed

-and faced south, and even on this morning of a chilly and backward

-spring, the tentative sunshine of April had contrived to put out the

-fire in the steel grate. One of the windows opened wide to the garden,

-and let in a scent which was less of flowers than of the promise of

-flowers--a scent of earth and green leaves, of the leafless daphne

-still a-bloom in the shrubbery, of hyacinths and daffodils and tulips

-and primroses still sheathed in their buds and awaiting a warmer air.

-

-But this promise of spring borne into the room by the wandering breeze

-from the river, was nipped, as it were, by the frigid spirit of age

-and formalism in its living occupants. Mrs. de Tracy, a lady of

-seventy-five, sat at her writing-table. Her companion, Miss Smeardon,

-a person of indeterminate age, nursed the lap-dog Rupert during such

-time as her employer was too deeply engaged to fulfil that agreeable

-duty. Mrs. de Tracy, as she wrote, was surrounded by countless

-photographs of her family and her wide connection, most prominent

-among them two--that of her husband, Admiral de Tracy, who had died

-many years ago, and that of her grandson, his successor, whose

-guardian she was, and whose minority she directed. Her eldest son, the

-father of this boy, who had died on his ship off the coast of Africa;

-his wife, dead too these many years; her other sons as well (she had

-borne four); their wives and children--grown men, fashionable women,

-beautiful children, fat babies: the likenesses of them all were around

-her, standing amid china and flowers and bric-a-brac on the crowded

-tables and what-nots of the not inharmonious and yet shabby Victorian

-room. Mrs. de Tracy, it might at a glance be seen, was no innovator,

-either in furniture, in dress, or probably in ideas. As she was

-dressed now, in the severely simple black of a widow, so she had been

-dressed when she first mourned Admiral de Tracy. The muslin ends of

-her widow's cap fell upon her shoulders, and its border rested on the

-hard lines of iron-grey hair which framed a face small, pale, aquiline

-in character and decidedly austere in expression.

-

-She took one from a docketed pile of letters and held it up under her

-glasses, the sun suddenly striking a dazzle of blue and green from the

-diamond rings on her small, withered hands. Then she read it aloud to

-her companion in an even and chilly voice. She had read it before, in

-the same way, at the same hour, several times. The letter, couched in

-an epistolary style largely dependent upon underlining, appeared to

-contain, nevertheless, some matter of moment. It was dated from Eaton

-Square, in London, some weeks before, and signed Maria Spalding. ("Her

-mother was a Gallup," Mrs. de Tracy would say, if any one asked who

-Maria Spalding was; and this was considered sufficient, for Mrs. de

-Tracy's maiden name had been Gallup,--not euphonious but nevertheless

-aristocratic.)

-

-                  *       *       *       *       *

-

-MY DEAR AUGUSTA (Maria Spalding wrote): I am going to ask you to

-help me out of a _difficulty_. There is no _use_ beating about the

-bush. You know that Cynthia's daughter Robinetta (Loring is her

-_married_ name) has been with me for a month. _American_ or no

-_American_, I meant to have had her for a part of the season, and to

-_present_ her, if possible (so _good_ for these Americans to learn

-what royalty _is_ and to breathe the atmosphere which doth hedge a

-_King_ as Shakespeare says, and which they can never _have_, of

-course, in a country like theirs). I know you can't _approve_, dear

-Augusta, and you will blame me for sentimentality--but I never

-_can_ forget what a _sweet_ creature Cynthia was before she ran away

-with that odious American--and my _greatest_ friend in girlhood, too,

-you must remember. So Robinette, as she is generally called, has

-come to my house as a _home_, but a most _unlucky_ thing has

-happened. I have had influenza so badly that it has affected my

-_heart_ (an old trouble), I am ordered to Nauheim, and Robinette is

-_stranded_, poor dear. She has few friends in London and certainly

-none who can put her up. Tho' she _is_ a widow, she is only twenty-two

-(just _imagine_!), very pretty, and really, tho' you won't believe

-it, _quite_ nice. I am _desperate_, and just wondering if you

-would let by-gones be by-gones, and receive her at Stoke Revel. She

-has set her heart upon seeing the place, and some _picture_ she

-was called after (I can't remember it, so it can't be one of the

-_famous_ Stoke Revel group--a _copy_, I fancy), and on paying a

-visit to Lizzie Prettyman, her mother's old nurse at Wittisham over

-the river. She _promised_ her mother she would do this--and such a

-promise is _sacred_, don't you think? It's such an _old_ story

-now, Cynthia's American marriage, and no fault of _Robinette's_,

-poor dear child. Her wish is almost a _pious_ one, don't you agree, to

-pay respect to her mother's memory and the family, and is _much_ to

-be encouraged in these days of radicalism, when every natural tie

-is loosened and people pay no more _respect_ to their parents than if

-they hadn't any, but had made themselves and brought themselves up

-from the beginning. So don't you think it's a _good_ thing to

-encourage the _right_ kind of feeling in Robinette, especially as

-she is an _American_, you know....

-

-                  *       *       *       *       *

-

-Mrs. de Tracy paused, and replaced the letter in the package from

-which she had withdrawn it.

-

-"Maria Spalding's point of view," she observed, "has, I confess,

-helped me to overcome the extreme reluctance I felt to receive the

-child of that American here. Cynthia de Tracy's elopement nearly broke

-my dear husband's heart. She was the apple of his eye before our

-marriage; so much younger than himself that she was like his child

-rather than his sister."

-

-"What a shock it must have been!" murmured the companion. "What

-ingratitude! Can you really receive her child? Of course you know

-best, Mrs. de Tracy; but it seems a risk."

-

-"Hardly a risk," rejoined Mrs. de Tracy with dignity. "But it is a

-trial to me, and an effort that I scarcely feel called upon to make."

-

-Miss Smeardon was so well versed in her duties that she knew she

-always had to urge her employer to do exactly what she most wanted to

-do, and the poor creature had developed a really wonderful ingenuity

-in divining what these wishes were. Just now, however, she was, to use

-a sporting phrase, "at fault" for a minute. She could not exactly

-tell whether Mrs. de Tracy wanted to be urged to ask her niece to

-Stoke Revel, or whether she wanted to be supplied with a really

-plausible excuse for not doing so. Those of you who have seen a hound

-at fault can imagine the companion at this moment: irresolute, tense,

-desperately anxious to find and follow up the right scent. Compromise,

-that useful refuge, came to her aid.

-

-"It _is_ difficult to know," she faltered. Then Mrs. de Tracy gave her

-the lead.

-

-"Maria Spalding is right when she says that my husband's niece

-contemplates a duty in visiting Stoke Revel," she announced. "The

-young woman is the lawful daughter of Cynthia de Tracy that was: our

-solicitors could never discover anything dubious in the marriage,

-though we long suspected it. Therefore, though I never could have

-invited her here, I admit that the Admiral's niece has a right to

-come, in a way."

-

-"Though her maiden name was Bean!" ejaculated the companion, almost

-under her breath. "There are Pease in the North, as everyone knows;

-perhaps there are Beans somewhere."

-

-"There have never been Beans," said Mrs. de Tracy solemnly and totally

-unconscious of a pun. "Look for yourself!"

-

-Miss Smeardon did not need to rise from her seat and fetch Burke: it

-lay always close at hand. She merely lifted it on to her knee and ran

-her finger down the names beginning with B-e-a.

-

-"Beaton, Beare, Beatty, Beale--" she read out, and she shook her head

-in dismal triumph; "but never a Bean! No! we English have no such

-dreadful names, thank Heavens!"

-

-"This is the beginning of April," pursued Mrs. de Tracy, referring to

-a date-card. "Maria Spalding's course at Nauheim will take three

-weeks. We must allow her a week for going and coming. During that time

-Mrs. David Loring can be my guest."

-

-"A whole month!" cried the companion, as though in ecstasy at her

-employer's generosity. "A whole month at Stoke Revel!"

-

-Mrs. de Tracy took no notice. "Write in my name to Maria Spalding,

-please," she commanded. "Be sure that there is no mistake about dates.

-Mention the departure and arrival of trains, and say that Mrs. David

-Loring will find a fly at the station. That is all, I think."

-

-The companion bent officiously forward. "You remember, of course, that

-young Mr. Lavendar comes down next week upon business?"

-

-"Well, what if he does?" asked Mrs. de Tracy shortly.

-

-"Mrs. David Loring is a widow," murmured the companion darkly; "a

-young American widow; and they are said to be so dangerous!"

-

-Mrs. de Tracy drew herself up. "Do you insinuate that the Admiral's

-niece will lay herself out to attract Mr. Lavendar, a widow in the

-house of a widow! You go rather too far, Miss Smeardon, though you are

-speaking of an American. Besides, allusions of this character are

-extremely distasteful to me. I have been told that the minds of

-unmarried women are always running upon love affairs, but I should

-hardly have thought it of you."

-

-"I'm sure I never imagined any about myself!" murmured Miss Smeardon

-with the pitiable writhe of the trodden-on worm.

-

-"I should suppose not," rejoined Mrs. de Tracy gravely, and the

-companion took up her pen obediently to write to Maria Spalding.

-

-"Shall I send your love to the Admiral's niece?" she humbly enquired,

-"or--or something of the kind?" There was irony in the last phrase,

-but it was quite unconscious.

-

-"Not my love," replied Mrs. de Tracy, "some suitable message. Make no

-mistake about the dates, remember."

-

-Thus a letter containing dates, and though not love, the substitute

-described by Miss Smeardon as "something of the kind" for an unwanted

-niece from an unknown aunt, left Stoke Revel by the afternoon post and

-reached Robinette Loring at breakfast next morning.

-

-

-

-

-III

-

-YOUNG MRS. LORING

-

-

-Young Mrs. Loring thought she had never taken so long a drive as that

-from the Weston railway station to Stoke Revel. The way stretched

-through narrow winding roads, always up hill, always between high

-Devonshire hedges. The rain-soaked lanes were slippery and she was

-unpleasantly conscious of the size and weight of the American wardrobe

-trunk that reared its mighty frame in front of her almost to the

-blotting-out of the driver, who steadied it with one hand as he plied

-the whip with the other. It struck her humorously that the trunk was

-larger than most of the cottages they were passing.

-

-It was a late spring that year in England,--Robinette was a new-comer

-and did not know that England runs to late and wet springs, believing

-that they make more conversation than early, fine ones,--and the

-trees were just bursting into leaf. The sun had not shone for three

-days and the landscape, for all its beautiful greenness, looked gloomy

-to an eye accustomed to a good deal of crude sunshine.

-

-As the horse mounted higher and higher Robinette glanced out of the

-windows at the dripping boughs and her face lost something of its

-sparkle of anticipation. She had little to expect in the way of a warm

-welcome, she knew that; or at least her mind knew it, but Robinette's

-heart always expected surprises, although she had lived two and twenty

-summers and was a widow at that.

-

-Her mother had been a de Tracy of Stoke Revel whose connection with

-that ancient family had ceased abruptly when she met an American

-architect while traveling on the Continent, married him out of hand

-and went to his native New England with him. The de Tracys had no

-opinion of America, its government, its institutions, its customs, or

-its people, and when they learned that Cynthia de Tracy had not only

-allied herself with this undesirable nation, but had selected a native

-by the name of Harold Bean, they regarded the incident of the marriage

-as closed.

-

-The union had been a happy one, though the de Tracys of Stoke Revel

-had always regarded the unfortunately named architect more as a

-vegetable than a human being; and the daughter of the marriage was the

-young Mrs. Loring now driving in the station fly to the home of her

-mother's people.

-

-Her father had died when she was fifteen and her mother followed three

-years after, leaving her with a respectable fortune but no relations;

-the entire family (happily, Mrs. de Tracy would have said) having died

-out with Harold. Robinette was unspeakably lonely, even with her

-hundred friends, for there was enough English blood in her to make her

-cry out inwardly for kith and kin, for family ties, for all the dear

-familiar backgrounds of hearth and home. Had a welcoming hand been

-stretched across the sea she would have flown at once to make

-acquaintance with the de Tracys, cold and indifferent as they had

-always been, but no bidding ever came, and the picture of the Manor

-House of Stoke Revel on her dressing-table was the only reminder of

-her connection with that ancient and honourable house.

-

-It is not difficult to see, under the circumstances, how the

-nineteen-year-old Robinette became the wife of the first man in whom

-she inspired a serious passion.

-

-It is incredible that women should confuse the passive process of

-being loved with the active process of loving, but it occurs

-nevertheless, and Robinette drifted into marriage with the vaguest

-possible notions of what it meant; feeling and knowing that she needed

-something, and supposing it must be a husband. It was better fortune,

-perhaps, than she merited, and equally kind for both parties, that her

-husband died before either of them realized the tragic mistake. David

-Loring was too absorbed in his own emotions to note the absence of

-full response on the part of his wife; Robinette was too much a child

-and too inexperienced to be conscious of her own lack of feeling.

-

-It was death, not life, that opened her eyes. When David Loring lay in

-his coffin, Robinette's heart was suddenly seized with growing pains.

-Her vision widened; words and promises took on a new and larger

-meaning, and she became a serious woman for her years, although there

-was an ineradicable gaiety of spirit in her that needed only sunshine

-to make it the dominant note of her nature.

-

-At the moment, Robinette, in the station fly on her way to Stoke

-Revel, was only in the making, although she herself considered her

-life as practically finished. The past and the present were moulding

-her into something that only the future could determine. Sometimes

-April, sometimes July, sometimes witch, sometimes woman; impetuous,

-intrepid, romantic, tempestuous, illogical,--these were but the

-elements of which the coming years of experience had yet to shape a

-character. Young Mrs. Loring had plenty of briars, but she had good

-roots and in favorable soil would be certain to bear roses.

-

-But in the immediate present, the fly with the immense American

-wardrobe trunk beside the driver, turned into the avenue of Stoke

-Revel, and Mrs. David Loring bestowed upon herself those little

-feminine attentions which precede arrival--pattings of the hair behind

-the ears, twitches of the veil, and pullings down about the waist and

-sleeves. A little toy of a purse made of golden chainwork, hanging

-from her wrist, was searched for the driver's fare, and it had hardly

-snapped to again when the fly drew up before the entrance to the

-house. How interesting it looked! Robinette put her head out of the

-carriage window and gazed up at the long row of windows, the old

-weather-coloured stones, and the carved front of the building. Here

-was a house where things might happen, she thought, and her young

-heart gave a sudden bound of anticipation.

-

-But the door was shut, alas! and a blank feeling came over Robinette

-as she looked at it. Some one perhaps would come out and welcome

-her, she thought for a brief moment, but only the butler appeared,

-who, with the formal announcement of her name, ushered her into a

-long, low room with a row of windows on one side and a pleasant

-old-fashioned look of comfort and habitation. She caught a glimpse

-of a tea-table with a steaming urn upon it, heard the furious barking

-of a little dog, saw that there were two figures in the room and

-moved instinctively towards the one beside the window, the figure in

-weeds, neither very tall nor very imposing, yet somehow formidable.

-

-"How do you do?" said an icy voice, and a chill hand held hers for a

-moment, but did not press it. The colour in Robinette's cheeks paled

-and then rushed back, as she drew herself up unconsciously.

-

-"I am very well, thank you, Aunt de Tracy," she answered with

-commendable composure.

-

-"This is my friend and companion, Miss Smeardon," continued Mrs. de

-Tracy, advancing to the tea-table where that useful personage

-officiated. "Mrs. David Loring--Miss Smeardon." Miss Smeardon had the

-dog upon her lap, yapping, clashing his teeth together, and obviously

-thirsting for the visitor's blood. He was quieted with soothing words,

-and Robinette seated herself innocently in the nearest chair, beside

-the table.

-

-"Excuse me!" the companion said with a slight cough; "Mrs. de Tracy's

-chair! Do you mind taking another?" There was something disagreeable

-in her voice, and in Mrs. de Tracy's deliberate scrutiny something so

-nearly insulting that a childish impulse to cry then and there

-suddenly seized upon Robinette. This was her mother's home--and no

-kiss had welcomed her to it, no kind word! There were perfunctory

-questions about her journey, references to the coldness and lateness

-of the spring, enquiries after the health of Maria Spalding (whose

-mother was a Gallup), but no claiming of kinship, no naming of her

-mother's name nor of her native country! Robinette's ardent spirit had

-felt sorrow, but it had never met rebuff nor known injustice, and the

-sudden stir of revolt at her heart was painful with an almost physical

-pain.

-

-After a long drawn hour of this social torture, Mrs. de Tracy rang,

-and a hard-featured elderly maid appeared.

-

-"Show Mrs. Loring to her room, Benson," said the mistress of the

-house, "and help her to unpack."

-

-Robinette followed her conductor upstairs with a sinking heart. Oh!

-but the chill of this English spring was in her bones, and the

-coldness of a reception so frigid that her passionate young spirit

-almost rebelled on the spot, prompting wild ideas and impulsive

-impossibilities; even a flight to her mother's old nurse--to Lizzie

-Prettyman, so often lovingly described, with her little thatched

-cottage beyond the river! Surely she would find the welcome there that

-was lacking here, and the touch of human kindness that one craved in a

-foreign land. But no! Robinette called to her aid her strong American

-common sense and the "grit" that her countrymen admire. Was she to

-confess herself routed in the very first onset--the very first attempt

-in storming the ancestral stronghold? With a characteristically quick

-return of hope, the Admiral's niece exclaimed, "Certainly not!"

-

-

-

-

-IV

-

-A CHILLY RECEPTION

-

-

-Mrs. Benson approached the wardrobe trunk with the air of a person who

-has taken an immediate and violent dislike to an object.

-

-"We have all looked at your box, ma'am, but I am sorry to say we are

-not sure that it is set up properly. It is very different from any we

-have ever seen at the Manor, and the men had some difficulty in

-getting it up to the room. I fancy it is upside down, is it not? No?

-We rather thought it was. I would call the boot-and-knife boy to

-unlock it, but he jammed his hand in attempting to force the catches,

-and I thought you would be kind enough to instruct me how to open it,

-perhaps?"

-

-"I am quite able to do it myself," said Robinette, keeping down a

-hysterical laugh. "See how easily it goes when you know the secret!"

-and she deftly turned her key in two locks one after the other, let

-down the mysterious façade of the affair, and pulled out an

-extraordinary rack on which hung so many dresses and wraps that Mrs.

-Benson lost her breath in surprise.

-

-"Would you like me to carry some of your things into another room,

-ma'am?" she asked. "They will never go in the wardrobe; it is only a

-plain English wardrobe, ma'am. We have never had any American

-guests."

-

-"The things needn't be moved," said Robinette, "many of them will be

-quite convenient where they are;--and now you need not trouble about

-me; I am well used to helping myself, if you will be kind enough to

-come in just before dinner for a moment."

-

-Mrs. Benson disappeared below stairs, where she regaled the injured

-boot-and-knife boy and the female servants with the first instalment

-of what was destined to be the most dramatic and sensational serial

-story ever told at the Manor House.

-

-"The lid of the box don't lift up," she explained, "like all the box

-lids as ever I saw, and me with Lady Chitterton for six years,

-traveling constantly. The front of the thing splits in the middle and

-the bottom half falls on the floor. A heathenish kind of tray lifts

-off from its hinges like a door, and a clothes rack pulls out on

-runners. 'T is a sight to curdle your blood; and the number of dresses

-she's brought would make her out to be richer than Crusoe!--though I

-have heard from a cousin of mine who was in service in America that

-the ladies over there spend every penny they can rake and scrape on

-their clothes. Their husbands may work their fingers to the bone, and

-their parents be in the workhouse, but fine frocks they will have!"

-

-"Rather!" said the boot-and-knife boy, nursing his injured thumb.

-

-On the departure of Mrs. Benson from her room, Robinette gave a

-stifled shriek in which laughter and tears were equally mingled. Then

-she flew like a lapwing to the fire-place and lifted off a fan of

-white paper from the grate.

-

-"No possibility of help there!" she exclaimed. "Cold within, cold

-without! How shall I unpack? How shall I dress? How shall I live

-without a fire? Ah! here is the coal box! Empty! Empty, and it is only

-the month of April! 'Oh! to be in England now that April's there!' How

-could Browning write that line without his teeth chattering! How well

-I understand the desire of the British to keep India and South Africa!

-They must have some place to go where they can get warm! Now for

-unpacking, or any sort of manual labour which will put my frozen blood

-in circulation!"

-

-Slapping her hands, beating her breast, stamping her feet, Mrs. Loring

-removed a few dresses from the offending trunk to the mahogany

-wardrobe, and disposed her effects neatly in the drawers of bureau and

-highboy.

-

-"I have made a mistake at the very beginning," she thought. "I

-supposed nothing could be too pretty for the Manor House and now I am

-afraid my worst is too fine. The Manor House of Stoke Revel! Wouldn't

-that appeal to anyone's imagination? Now what for to-night? White

-satin with crystal? Back you go into the trunk! Back goes the

-silver grey chiffon! I'll have it re-hung over flannel! Avaunt!

-heliotrope velvet with amethyst spangles, made with a view to

-ensnaring the High Church clergy! I wish I had a princess dress of

-moleskin with a court train of squirrel hanging from the shoulders!

-Here is the thing; my black Liberty satin two years old. I will

-cover part of my exposed neck and shoulders with a fichu of lace; my

-black silk openwork stockings will be drawn on over a pair of

-balbriggans, and the number of petticoats I shall don would discourage

-a Scotch fishwife! To-morrow I'll write Mrs. Spalding's maid to buy

-me two hot-water bottles, mittens, a box of quinine tablets and a

-Shetland shawl.... What are these--_fans?_ Retire into the depths of

-that tray and never look me in the face again!... _Parasols?_ I

-wonder at your impertinence in coming here! I shall give you cod

-liver oil and make you grow into umbrellas!"

-

-Presently the dinner gong growled through the house, and Robinette,

-still shivering, flung across her shoulders a shimmering scarf of

-white and silver. It fell over her simple black dress in just the

-right way, adding a last touch to the somewhat exotic grace which made

-her a stranger in her mother's home. Then she fled down the darkening

-passages, instinctively aware that unpunctuality was a crime in this

-house. Yet in spite of her haste, she paused before the window of an

-upper lobby, arrested by the scene it framed. Heavy rain still fell,

-and the light, made greenish by the nearness of great trees just

-coming into leaf, was cheerless and singularly cold. But that could

-not mar the majesty of the outlook which made the Manor of Stoke

-Revel, on its height, unique. Far below the house, the broad river

-slipped towards the sea, between woods that rose tier upon tier above

-and beyond--woods of beech and of oak, not yet green, but purplish

-under the rainy mist. On the bank, woods too, and here, where the

-river, in excess of strength, swirled into a creek--a shining

-sand-bank where fishing nets were hung. Then the low, strong tower of

-a church, with the sombreness of cypress beside it, and the thatched

-roofs of cottages.

-

-Something stirred in the heart of Robinette as she looked, that part

-of her blood which her English mother had given her. This scene, so

-indescribably English as hardly to be imaginable in another land, had

-been painted for her again and again by her mother with all the

-retrospective romance of an exile's touch. She knew it, but she did

-not know if she could ever love it, beautiful though it was and

-noble.

-

-But she banished these misgivings and ran down the twisted stairway

-so fast that she was almost panting when she reached the drawing-room

-door.

-

-"I will take your arm, please," said the hostess coldly, while Miss

-Smeardon wore the virtuous and injured air of one who has been kept

-waiting. Mrs. de Tracy laid, on the warm and smooth arm of her guest,

-one of her small, dry hands, sparkling with rings, and the procession

-closed with the companion and the lap-dog.

-

-In the dining room, the shutters were closed, and the candles, in

-branching candlesticks of silver, only partially lit a room long and

-low like the other. The walls were darkened with pictures, and

-Robinette's bright eyes searched them eagerly.

-

-"The Sir Joshua is not here!" she thought. "And it was not in the

-drawing room. Has Aunt de Tracy given, or hidden it away--my very own

-name-picture?"

-

-With all her determination, Robinette somehow could not summon courage

-enough to ask where this picture was. Such a question would involve

-the mention of her mother's name, and from that she shrank. Young Mrs.

-Loring had never before found herself in a society where conversation

-was apparently regarded as a crime, and to fit herself to her

-environment, under the scrutiny of Mrs. de Tracy and the decidedly

-inimical looks of the companion, took all her time. A burden of

-self-consciousness lay upon her such as her light and elastic spirit

-had never known. She found herself morbidly observant of minute

-details; the pattern of the tablecloth; the crest upon the spoons; the

-curious red knobs upon Miss Smeardon's fingers, and the odd mincing

-way she held her fork; the almost athletic efforts of the butler when

-he raised an enormous silver dish-cover, and the curiously frugal and

-unappetizing nature of the viand it disclosed. The wizened face of the

-lap-dog, too, peering over the table's edge, out of Miss Smeardon's

-lap, might have acquired its distrustful expression, Robinette

-thought, from habitual doubts as to whether enough to eat would ever

-be his good fortune. The meal ended with the ceremonious presentation

-to each lady in turn, of three wrinkled apples and two crooked bananas

-in a probably priceless dish of Crown Derby. Then the procession

-re-formed and returned to the drawing room.

-

-"And the evening and the morning were the first day!" sighed Robinette

-to herself in the chilly solitude of her own room. How often could she

-endure the repetition?

-

-

-

-

-V

-

-AT WITTISHAM

-

-

-"May I have a fire to dress by, Benson?" Robinette asked rather

-timidly that night, her head just peeping above the blankets.

-

-"_Fire_?" returned Benson, in italics, with an interrogation point.

-

-Robinette longed to spell the word and ask Benson if it had ever come

-to her notice before, but she stifled her desire and said, "I am quite

-ashamed, Benson, but you see I am not used to the climate yet. If

-you'll pamper me just a little at the beginning, I shall behave better

-presently."

-

-"I will give orders for a fire night and morning, certainly, ma'am,"

-said Benson. "I did not offer it because our ladies never have one in

-their bedrooms at this time of the year. Mrs. de Tracy is very strong

-and active for her age."

-

-"It's my opinion she's a w'eedler," remarked Benson at the housekeeper's

-luncheon table. "She asks for what she wants like a child. She has a

-pretty way with her, I can't deny that, but is she a w'eedler?"

-

-Wheedler or not, Robinette got her fire to dress by, and so was able

-to come down in the morning feeling tolerably warm. It was well that

-she was, for the cold tea and tough toast of the de Tracy breakfast

-had little in them to warm the heart. Conversation languished during

-the meal, and after a walk to the stables Robinette was thankful to

-return to her own room again on the pretext of writing letters. There

-she piled up the fire, drew her chair close up to the hearth, and

-employed herself until noon, when she took her embroidery and joined

-her aunt in the drawing room. Luncheon was announced at half past one,

-and immediately after it Mrs. de Tracy and Miss Smeardon went to their

-respective bedrooms for rest.

-

-"Are there indeed only twelve hours in the day?" Robinette asked

-herself desperately as she heard the great, solemn-toned hall clock

-strike two. It seemed quite impossible that it could be only two; the

-whole afternoon had still to be accounted for, and how? Well, she

-might look over her clothes again, re-arranging them in all their

-dainty variety in the wardrobe and drawers; she might put tissue paper

-into the sleeves of each bodice, smoothing out every crease; she might

-even find that some tiny repairs were needed! There were three new

-hats, and several pairs of new gloves to be tried on; her accounts

-must be made up, her cheque book balanced; yet all these things would

-take but a short time. Then the hall clock struck three.

-

-"I must go out," she thought.

-

-Coming through the hall from her room Robinette met her aunt and Miss

-Smeardon descending the staircase.

-

-"We are driving this afternoon," said Mrs. de Tracy, "would you not

-like to come with us?"

-

-The thought turned Robinette to stone: she had visited the stables,

-and seen the coachman lead what seemed to her a palsied horse out into

-the yard. Her sympathetic allusion to the supposed condition of the

-steed had not been well received, for the man had given her to

-understand that this was the one horse of the establishment, but

-Robinette had vowed never to sit behind it.

-

-"I think I'd rather walk, Aunt de Tracy," she said, "I'd like to go

-and see my mother's old nurse, Mrs. Prettyman. Can I do any errands

-for you?"

-

-"None, thank you. To go to Wittisham you have to cross the ferry,

-remember."

-

-"Oh! that must be simple! you may be sure I shall not lose myself!"

-said Robinette.

-

-Both the older women looked curiously at her for a moment; then Mrs.

-de Tracy said:--

-

-"You will kindly not use the public ferry; the footman will row you

-across to Wittisham at any hour you may mention to him."

-

-"Oh, but Aunt de Tracy, I'd really prefer the public ferry."

-

-"Nonsense, impossible; the footman shall row you," said Mrs. de Tracy

-with finality.

-

-Robinette said nothing; she hated the idea of the footman, but it

-seemed inevitable. "Am I never to get away from their dullnesses?" she

-thought. "A public ferry sounds quite lively in place of being rowed

-by William!"

-

-When the shore was reached, however, Robinette discovered that the

-passage across the river in a leaky little boat, rowed by a painfully

-inexperienced servant, was almost too much for her. To see him

-fumbling with the oars, made her tingle to take them herself; she

-could not abide the irritation of a return journey with such a

-boatman. This determination was hastened when she saw that instead of

-the three-decker steamer of her native land, the ferry at Wittisham

-was just like an ordinary row-boat; that one rang a bell hanging from

-a picturesque tower; that a nice young man with a sprig of wallflower

-in his cap rowed one across, and that each passenger handed out a

-penny to him on the farther side.

-

-"How enchantingly quaint!" she cried. "William, you can go home; I

-shall return by the public ferry."

-

-William looked surprised but only replied, "Very good, ma'am."

-

-On warm summer afternoons the tiny square of Mrs. Prettyman's garden

-made as delightful a place to sit in as one could wish. There was

-sunshine on the turf, and a thin shade was cast by the drooping boughs

-of the plum tree; just enough to shelter old eyes from the glare. When

-she was very tired with doing her work Mrs. Prettyman would totter out

-into the garden. She was getting terribly lame now, yet afraid to

-acknowledge it, knowing, with the desperate wisdom of poverty, that

-once to give in, very often ended in giving up altogether. So her

-lameness was 'blamed on the weather,' 'blamed on scrubbing the

-floor,' blamed on anything rather than the tragic, incurable fact of

-old age. This afternoon her rheumatism had been specially bad: she had

-an inclination to cry out when she rose from her chair, and every step

-was an effort. Yet the sunshine was tempting; it warmed old and aching

-bones through and through as no fire could do; and Mrs. Prettyman

-thought she must make the effort to go out.

-

-She had just arrived at this conclusion, when a tap came to the door.

-

-"That you, Mrs. Darke?" she called out in her piping old voice. "Come

-in, me dear, I'm that stiff with me rheumatics to-day I can't scarce

-rise out of me chair."

-

-"It's not Mrs. Darke," said Robinette, stooping to enter through the

-tiny doorway. "It's a stranger, Mrs. Prettyman, come all the way from

-America to see you."

-

-"Lor' now, Miss, whoever may you be?" the old woman cried, making as

-if she would rise from her chair. But Robinette caught her arm and

-made her sit still.

-

-"Don't get up; please sit right there where you are, and I'll take

-this chair beside you. Now, Mrs. Prettyman, look at me hard, and tell

-me if you know who I am."

-

-The old woman gazed into Robinette's face, and then a light seemed to

-break over her.

-

-"It's Miss Cynthia's daughter you are!" she cried. "My Miss Cynthia as

-went and married in America!"

-

-She caught Robinette's white ringed hands in hers, and Robinette bent

-down and kissed the wrinkled old face.

-

-"I know that mother loved you, Nurse," she said. "She used often,

-often to tell me about you."

-

-After the fashion of old people, Mrs. Prettyman was too much moved to

-speak. Her face worked all over, and then slow tears began to run down

-her furrowed cheeks. She got up from her chair and walked across the

-uneven floor, leaning on a stick.

-

-"I've something here, Miss, I've something here; something I never

-parts with," she said. A tall chest of drawers stood against the wall,

-and the old woman began to search among its contents as she spoke. At

-last she found a little kid shoe, laid away in a handkerchief.

-

-"See here, Miss! here's my Miss Cynthia's shoe! 'T was tied on to my

-wedding coach the day I got married and left her. My 'usband 'e

-laughed at me cruel because I'd have that shoe with me; but I've kept

-it ever since."

-

-Robinette came and stood beside her, and they both wept together over

-the silly little shoe.

-

-"I want to talk a great deal to you, Nurse; I want to tell you all

-about mother and father, and how they died," said Robinette through

-her tears. How strange that she should have to come to this cottage

-and to this poor old woman before she found anyone to whom she could

-speak of her beloved dead! Her heart was so full that she could

-scarcely speak. A crowd of memories rushed into her mind; last scenes

-and parting words; those innumerable unforgettable details that are

-printed once for all upon the heart that loves and feels.

-

-"I'd like to tell you about it out of doors, Nurse dear," she said

-tearfully; "can you come out under the plum tree in your garden? It's

-lovely there."

-

-"Yes, dearie, yes, we'll come out under the plum tree, we will,"

-echoed Mrs. Prettyman.

-

-"See, Nursie, take my arm, I'll help you out into the warm sunshine,"

-Robinette said.

-

-They progressed very slowly, the old woman leaning with all her weight

-upon the arm of her strong young helper. Then under the flickering

-shade of the tree they sat down together for their talk.

-

-So much to tell, so much to hear, the afternoon slipped away unknown

-to them, and still they were sitting there hand in hand talking and

-listening; sometimes crying a little, sometimes laughing; a queerly

-assorted couple, these new-made friends.

-

-But when all the recollections had been talked over and wept over,

-when Mrs. Prettyman had told Robinette, with the extraordinary detail

-that old people can put into their memories of long ago, all that she

-remembered of Cynthia de Tracy's childhood, then Robinette began to

-question the old woman about her own life. Was she comfortable? Was

-she tolerably well off? Or had she difficulty in making ends meet?

-

-To these questions Mrs. Prettyman made valiant answers: she had a fine

-spirit, and no wish to let a stranger see the skeleton in the

-cupboard. But Robinette's quick instinct pierced through the veil of

-well-meant bravery and touched the truth.

-

-"Nurse dear," she said, "you say you're comfortable, and well off, but

-you won't mind my telling you that I just don't quite believe you."

-

-"Oh, my dear heart, what's that you be sayin'? callin' of me a liar?"

-chuckled the old woman fondly.

-

-Robinette rose from her seat on the bench and stood back to

-scrutinize the cottage. It was exquisitely picturesque, but this

-very picturesqueness constituted its danger; for the place was a

-perfect death trap. The crumbling cob-walls that had taken on those

-wonderful patches of green colour, soaked in the damp like a sponge:

-the irregularity of the thatched roof that looked so well, admitted

-trickles of rain on wet nights; and the uneven mud floor of the

-kitchen revealed the fact that the cottage had been built without any

-proper foundation. The door did not fit, and in cold weather a

-knife-like draught must run in under it. All this Robinette's

-quick, practical glance took in; she gave a little nod or two,

-murmuring to herself, "A new thatch roof, a new door, a new cement

-floor." Then she came and sat down again.

-

-"Tell me now, how much do you have to live on every week, Nurse?" she

-asked.

-

-"Oh, Miss Robinette--ma'am, I should say--'t is wonderful how I gets

-on; and then there's the plum tree--just see the flourish on it,

-Missie dear! 'T will have a crop o' plums come autumn will about drag

-down the boughs! I don't know how 't would be with me without I had

-the plum tree."

-

-"Do you really make something by it?" Robinette asked.

-

-The old woman chuckled again. "To be sure I makes; makes jam every

-autumn; a sight o' jam. Come inside again, me dear, an' see me jam

-cupboard and you'll know."

-

-She hobbled into the kitchen, and opened the door of a wall press in

-the corner. There, row above row stood a solid phalanx of jam pots; it

-seemed as if a whole town might be supplied out of Mrs. Prettyman's

-cupboard.

-

-"'T is well thought of, me jam," the old woman said, grinning with

-pleasure. "I be very careful in the preparing of 'en; gets a penny the

-pound more for me jam than others, along of its being so fine."

-

-Robinette was charmed to see that here Mrs. Prettyman had a reliable

-source of income, however slender.

-

-"How much do you reckon to get from it every year?" she asked.

-

-"Going five pounds, dear: four pounds fifteen shillings and sixpence,

-last autumn; and please the Lord there's a better crop this season, so

-'t will be the clear five pounds. Oh! I do be loving me plum tree like

-a friend, I do."

-

-They turned back into the sunshine again, that Robinette should admire

-this wonderful tree-friend once more. She stood under its shadow with

-great delight, as the Bible says, gazing up through the intricate

-network of boughs and blossom to the cloudless blue above her.

-

-"It's heavenly, Nurse, just heavenly!" she sighed as she came and sat

-down beside the old woman again.

-

-"Then there's me duck too, Missie! Lard, now I don't know how I'd be

-without I had me duck. Duckie I calls 'er and Duckie she is; company

-she is, too, to me mornin's, with her 'Quack, Quack,' under the

-winder."

-

-So the old woman prattled on, giving Robinette all the history of her

-life, with its tiny joys and many struggles, till it seemed to the

-listener that she had always known Mrs. Prettyman, the plum tree, and

-her duck--known them and loved them, all three.

-

-

-

-

-VI

-

-MARK LAVENDAR

-

-

-Hundreds of years ago the street of Stoke Revel village, if street it

-could be called, and the tower of the ancient church, must have looked

-very much the same as now.

-

-On such a day, when the oak woods were budding, and the English birds

-singing, and the spring sun was hot in a clear sky, a knight riding

-down the steep lane would have taken the same turn to the left on his

-way to the Manor. Were he a young man, he would probably have reined

-up his horse for a moment, and looked, as Mark Lavendar did now, at

-the blithe landscape before him. Only then the accessories would have

-been so different: the great horse, somewhat tired by long hours of

-riding, the armour that glinted in the sun, the casque pushed up to

-let the fresh air play upon the rider's face; such a figure must have

-often stood just at that turn where the lane wound up the little hill.

-The landscape was the same, and young men in all ages are very much

-the same, so--although this one had merely arrived by train, and

-walked from the nearest station--Mark Lavendar stopped and leaned over

-the low wall when he came to the turn of the road, and looked down at

-the river.

-

-He boasted no war horse nor armour; none of the trappings of the older

-world added to his distinction, and yet he was a very pleasing figure

-of a man.

-

-The gaunt brown face was quite hard and solemn in expression; ugly,

-but not commonplace, for as a friend once said of him, "His eyes seem

-to belong to another person." It was not this, but only that the eyes,

-blue as Saint Veronica's flower, showed suddenly a different aspect of

-the man, an unexpected tenderness that flatly contradicted the hard

-features of his face. He looked very nice when he laughed too, so

-that most people when they had found out the trick, tried to make him

-laugh as often as possible.

-

-"What a day! Heavens! what a lovely day," he said to himself as he

-leaned on the low wall. "I want to be courting Amaryllis somewhere in

-these woods, and instead I've got to go and talk business with that

-old woman;" and he looked ruefully towards the Manor House; for this

-was not his first visit by any means, and he knew only too well the

-hours of boredom that awaited him. Mrs. de Tracy, strange to say, had

-a soft side towards this young man, the son of her family solicitor.

-Mark was invariably sent down by his father when there was any

-business to be transacted at Stoke Revel. The older man was fond of a

-good dinner, and hated circumlocution about affairs, and it was only

-when a death in the family, or some other crucial event, made his

-presence absolutely necessary that he came down himself. Mark was

-sacrificed instead, and many a wearisome hour had he spent in that

-house. However on this occasion he had been glad enough to get out of

-London for a while; the country was divine, and even the de Tracy

-business did not occupy the whole day. There would be hours on the

-river; afternoons spent riding along those green lanes through which

-he had just passed, where the banks were starred with little vivid

-flowers. Mark had an almost childish delight in such beauty. He had

-loitered on the way along, flung himself down on a bank for a few

-minutes, and burying his face amongst the flowers, listened with a

-smile upon his mouth to the birds that chirruped in the branches of

-the oak above him.

-

-Now he leaned on the low wall, and gazed at the shining reaches of the

-river. "What a day!" he said to himself again. "What a divine

-afternoon"; then he added quite simply, "I wish I were in love;

-everyone under eighty ought to be, on such a day!"

-

-Even at the age of thirty most men of any personal attractions have

-some romantic memories. Lavendar had his share, but somehow that

-morning he was disconcertingly candid to himself. It may have been the

-sudden change from London air and London noise; something in the clear

-transparency of the April day, in the flute-like melody of the birds'

-song, in the dream-like beauty of the scene before him, that made all

-the moth and rust that had consumed the remembrances of the past more

-apparent. There was little of the treasure of heaven there,--it had

-mostly been nonsense or vanity or worse. He wanted, oh, how he wanted,

-to be able just for once to surrender himself to what was absolutely

-ideal; to have a memory when he was an old man, of something that had

-no fault in it.

-

-"No, I've never been really in love," he said to himself, "I may as

-well confess it; and I daresay I never shall be, but marry on an

-impulse like most men, make the best of it afterwards, and have a

-sort of middle-class happiness in the end of the day."

-

-"One, Two, Three," said the church clock from the ancient tower,

-booming out the note, and Lavendar started, and rubbed his hands

-across his dazzled eyes. "Luncheon is a late meal in that awful house,

-if I remember," he said, "but it must be over by this time. I really

-must go in. Let me collect my thoughts; the business is 'just things

-in general,' but especially the sale of some cottage or other and the

-land it stands on. Yes, yes, I remember; the papers are all right. Now

-for the old ladies."

-

-He made his entrance into the Manor drawing room a few minutes later

-with a charming smile.

-

-Mrs. de Tracy actually walked a few steps to meet him, with a greeting

-less frigid than usual.

-

-"I'm glad to see you, Mark," said she. "Bates said you preferred to

-walk from the station."

-

-Mark turned his kind eyes on Miss Smeardon, and held her knuckly hand

-in his own almost tenderly. It was a very bad habit, which had led to

-some mischief in the past, that when he was sorry for a thing he

-wanted to be very kind to it; and this made him unusually pleasing,

-and dangerous!

-

-"Business first and pleasure afterwards; excellent maxim!" he said to

-himself half an hour later, as he removed the dust of travel from his

-person, preparatory to an interview with Mrs. de Tracy. "Now for it!"

-

-He liked the drawing room at Stoke Revel and always wished it had

-other occupants when he entered it. This afternoon it seemed

-particularly agreeable, the open windows letting in the slanting

-sunshine and a strong scent of jonquils and sweet briar.

-

-"Well, Mrs. de Tracy," said Mark, "I am my father's spokesman, you

-know, and we have serious business to discuss. But tell me first,

-how's my young friend Carnaby?"

-

-"Thank you; my grandson has a severe attack of quinsy," replied Mrs.

-de Tracy. "He is to have sick-leave whenever the Endymion returns to

-Portsmouth."

-

-"Oh! Carnaby will make short work of an attack of quinsy," said

-Lavendar, genially.

-

-"It would please me better," retorted Mrs. de Tracy severely, "if my

-grandson showed signs of mental improvement as well as bodily health.

-His letters are ill-spelled, ill-written, and ill-expressed. They are

-the letters of a school-boy."

-

-"He is not much more than a school-boy, is he?" suggested Mark, "only

-fifteen! The mental improvement will come; too soon, for my taste. I

-like Carnaby as he is!"

-

-The young man had seated himself beside his hostess in an attitude of

-perfect ease. Though bored by his present environment, he was entirely

-at home in it. Just because he greatly dared towards her and was never

-afraid, Mrs. de Tracy liked him. With the mere flicker of an eyelid,

-she dismissed the attendant Smeardon.

-

-"There has been an offer for the land at Wittisham," Lavendar said,

-when they were alone.

-

-Mrs. de Tracy winced. "That is no matter of congratulation with me,"

-she said bleakly.

-

-"But it is with us, for it is a most excellent one!" returned the

-young man hardily. "The firm has had the responsibility of advising

-the sale, which we consider absolutely unavoidable in the present

-financial condition of Stoke Revel. We have advertised for a year, and

-advertisement is costly. Now comes an offer of a somewhat peculiar

-kind, but sound enough." Lavendar here produced a bundle of documents

-tied with the traditional red tape. "An artist," he continued,

-"Waller, R. A.--you know the name?"

-

-"I do not," interpolated Mrs. de Tracy grimly.

-

-"Nevertheless, a well known painter," persisted Mark, "and one, as it

-happens, of the orchard scenery of this part of England. He has known

-Wittisham for a long time, and only last year he made a success with

-the painting of a plum tree which grows in front of one of the

-cottages. It was sold for a large sum, and, as a matter of sentiment,

-I suppose, Waller wishes to buy the cottage and make it into a summer

-retreat or studio for himself."

-

-"He cannot buy it," said Mrs. de Tracy with the snort of a war horse.

-

-"He cannot buy it apart from the land," insinuated Mark, "but he is

-flush of cash and ready to buy the land too--very nearly as much as we

-want to sell, and the bargain merely waits your consent. The sum that

-has been agreed upon is of the kind that a man in the height of his

-triumph offers for a fancy article. No such sum will ever be offered

-for land at Wittisham again; old orchard land, falling into desuetude

-as it is and covered with condemned cottages."

-

-Mrs. de Tracy was sternly silent, and Mark awaited her next words with

-some curiosity. He felt like a torturer drawing the tooth of a Jew in

-the good old days. This sale of land was a bitter pill to the widow,

-as it well might be, for it was the beginning of the end, as the de

-Tracy solicitors could have told you. There had been de Tracys of

-Stoke Revel since Queen Elizabeth's time, but there would not be de

-Tracys of Stoke Revel much longer,--unless young Carnaby married an

-heiress when he came of age--and that no de Tracy had ever done.

-

-"The land across the river," Mrs. de Tracy said at last, "was the

-first land the de Tracys held, but much of it went at the Restoration.

-Well, let this go too!" she added harshly.

-

-Mark blessed himself that indecision was no part of the lady's

-character and sighed with relief. "My father would like to know," he

-said, "what you propose to do with regard to the old woman who is the

-present tenant of the cottage."

-

-"Elizabeth Prettyman is not a tenant," said Mrs. de Tracy coldly.

-"She is practically a pensioner, since she lives rent-free."

-

-"True, I forgot," said Mark soothingly. "I beg your pardon."

-

-"Do not suppose that it is by my wish," continued Mrs. de Tracy

-coldly. "I have never approved of supporting the peasantry in

-idleness. This woman happened to be for some years nurse to Cynthia de

-Tracy, my husband's younger sister, who deeply offended her family by

-marrying an American named Bean. I see no claim in that to a pension

-of any kind."

-

-"But your husband saw it, I imagine," interpolated Mark quietly, and

-Mrs. de Tracy gave him a fierce look, which he met, however, without a

-sign of flinching.

-

-"My husband had a mistaken idea that Prettyman was poor when she

-became a widow," said Mrs. de Tracy. "On the contrary she had

-relations quite well able to support her, I believe. I never cross the

-river, in these days, and the matter has escaped my memory, so that

-things have been left as they were."

-

-"No great loss," said Mark candidly, "since the cottage in its present

-state is utterly unfit for any tenant. As to Prettyman, is it your

-intention to give her notice to quit?"

-

-"Unquestionably, since the cottage is needed," answered Mrs. de Tracy.

-"She has occupied it too long as it is." The speaker's lips closed

-like a vice over the words.

-

-"God pity Elizabeth Prettyman!" ejaculated Lavendar to himself. "Might

-is Right still, apparently, at Stoke Revel!" Aloud he merely said, "A

-weak deference to public opinion was never a foible of yours, Mrs. de

-Tracy; but I think I would advise you to consider some question of

-compensation to Mrs. Prettyman for the loss of the cottage."

-

-"If you can show me that the woman has any legal claim upon the

-estate, I will consider the question, but not otherwise," said Mrs. de

-Tracy with such an air of finality that Lavendar was inclined to let

-the matter drop for the moment.

-

-"The firm," he said, "will communicate your wishes to Mrs. Prettyman

-by letter."

-

-"Prettyman cannot read," snapped Mrs. de Tracy. "She must be told, and

-the sooner the better."

-

-"Well, Mrs. de Tracy," said the young man with a short laugh,

-"provided it is not I who have to tell her, well and good. I warn you

-the task would not be to my taste unless compensation were offered

-her."

-

-Mrs. de Tracy's features hardened to a degree unusual even to her.

-

-"I am apparently less tender-hearted than you," she said sardonically.

-"I shall, if I think fit, deal with Prettyman in person." The subject

-was dropped, and Lavendar rose to leave the room, but Mrs. de Tracy

-detained him.

-

-"The Admiral's niece, Mrs. David Loring, is my guest at present," she

-said. "It happens that she has crossed the river to Wittisham and is

-paying a visit to Prettyman. I should be obliged, Mark, if you would

-row across and fetch her back, as by some misunderstanding, my servant

-has not waited for her. You are an oarsman, I know."

-

-The young man consented with alacrity. "I shall kill two birds with

-one stone," he said cheerfully, "I shall visit the famous plum tree

-cottage and see Mrs. Prettyman for myself; and I shall have the

-privilege of executing your commission as Mrs. Loring's escort. It

-sounds a very agreeable one!"

-

-"You have no time to lose," said Mrs. de Tracy with a glance at the

-clock.

-

-

-

-

-VII

-

-A CROSS-EXAMINATION

-

-

-Lavendar escaped from the house, where, even in the smoke-room, it

-seemed unregenerate to light a cigar, and took the path to the shore.

-

-"I wonder if one woman staying in a house full of men would find life

-as depressing as I do cooped up here under precisely opposite

-circumstances," he thought, as he made his way through the little

-churchyard. "It cannot be the atmosphere of femininity that bores me,

-however, for Mrs. de Tracy has a strongly masculine flavour and Miss

-Smeardon is as nearly neuter as a person can be."

-

-He took a couple of oars from the boat-house as he passed, and going

-to the little landing stage untied the boat and started for the

-farther shore.

-

-It was good to feel the water parting under his vigorous strokes and

-delightful to exert his strength after the hours of stifled irritation

-at the Manor. It was a bright, calm close of day, when in the rarefied

-evening air each sound began to acquire the sharpness that marks the

-hour. He could hear the rush of the waters behind the boat and the

-voices of the fishers farther up the stream. As he drew up to the bank

-and took in his oars the stillness was so great that you could have

-heard a pin fall, when suddenly from a tree above him a bird broke

-into one little finished song and then was still, as if it had uttered

-all it wished to say.

-

-"What a heavenly evening!" thought Lavendar, "and what a lovely spot!

-That must be the cottage just above me. Mrs. de Tracy said I should

-know it by the plum tree. Ah, there it is!" Tying up the boat he

-sprang up the steps and walked along the flagged path. The plum tree

-these last few days had begun to look its fairest. The blossoms did

-not yet conceal the leaves, but it was a very bower of beauty already.

-There was a little table spread for tea under its branches, and an old

-woman like thousands of old women in thousands of cottages all over

-England, was sitting behind it, precisely as if she had been a

-coloured illustration in a summer number of an English weekly. She was

-on the typical bench in the typical attitude, but instead of the

-typical old man in a clean smock frock who should have occupied the

-end of the bench, there sat beside her a distinctly lovely young

-woman. What struck Lavendar was the wealth of colour she brought into

-the picture: goldy brown hair, brown tweed dress, with a cape of blue

-cloth slipping off her shoulders, and a brown toque with a pert

-upstanding quill that seemed to express spirit and pluck, and a merry

-heart. His quick glance took in the little hands that held the

-withered old ones. Both heads were bowed and in the brown tweed lap

-was a child's shoe,--a wee, worn, fat shoe. Beside it lay an absurd

-bit of crumpled, tear-soaked embroidery that had been intended to do

-duty as a handkerchief but had evidently proved quite unseaworthy.

-

-Waddling about on the flags close to the little table was a large fat

-duck wearing a look of inexpressible greed. "_Quack, quack, quack_!"

-it said, waddling off angrily as Lavendar approached.

-

-At the sound of the duck's raucous voice both the women looked up.

-

-"Is this Mrs. Prettyman's cottage, ma'am?" Lavendar asked with his

-charming smile.

-

-"Yes, sir, 't is indeed, and who may you be, if I may be so bold as to

-ask?"

-

-"I'm Mr. Lavendar, Mrs. de Tracy's lawyer, Mrs. Prettyman. I'm come to

-do some business at Stoke Revel," he added, for the old face had

-clouded over, and Mrs. Prettyman's whole expression changed to one of

-timid mistrust. "I really was sent by Mrs. de Tracy," he went on,

-turning to Robinette, "to take you home; Mrs. Loring, isn't it?"

-

-"Yes, I am Mrs. Loring," she said, frankly holding out her hand to

-him. "I knew you were expected at Stoke Revel, but I sent the footman

-back myself. He spoils the scenery and the river altogether."

-

-"I've got a boat down there; Mrs. de Tracy doesn't quite like your

-taking the ferry; may I have the honour of rowing you across? My

-orders were to bring you back as soon as possible."

-

-"I'm blest if I hurry," was his unspoken comment as Robinette gaily

-agreed, and, having bidden good-bye to the old woman, with a quick

-caress that astonished him a good deal, she laid down the little shoe

-gently upon the bench, and turned to accompany him to the boat.

-

-The river was like a looking-glass; the air like balm. "We'll

-take some time getting across, against the tide," said Lavendar

-reflectively, as he resolved that the little voyage should be

-prolonged to its fullest possible extent. He was not going into

-the Manor a moment earlier than he could help, when this charming

-person was sitting opposite to him. So this was Mrs. Loring! How

-different from the stout middle-aged lady whom Mrs. de Tracy's

-words had conjured up when he set out to find her!

-

-"Old Mrs. Prettyman was my mother's nurse," Robinette remarked as

-Lavendar dipped his oars gently into the stream and began to row. "I

-went to see her feeling quite grown up, and she seemed to consider me

-still a child; I was feeling about four years old at the moment when

-you appeared and woke me to the real world again."

-

-She had dried her eyes now and had pulled her hat down so as to shade

-her face, but Lavendar could see the traces of her weeping, and the

-dear little ineffectual rag of a handkerchief was still in one hand.

-

-"What on earth was she crying about?" he thought, as with lowered eyes

-he rowed very slowly across, only just keeping the boat's head

-against the current, and glancing now and then at the young woman.

-

-Was it possible that this lovely person was going to be his

-fellow-guest in that dull house? "My word! but she's pretty! and what

-were the tears about ... and the little shoe? Did it belong to a child

-of her own? Can she be a widow, I wonder," said Lavendar to himself.

-

-"I often think," he said suddenly, raising his head, "that when two

-people meet for the first time as utter strangers to each other, they

-should be encouraged, not forbidden, to ask plain questions. It may be

-my legal training, but I'd like all conversation to begin in that way.

-As a child I was constantly reproved for my curiosity, especially when

-I once asked a touchy old gentleman, 'Which is your glass eye? The one

-that moves, or the one that stands still?'"

-

-The tears had dried, the hat was pushed back again, the young woman's

-face broke into an April smile that matched the day and the weather.

-

-"Oh, come, let us do it," she exclaimed. "I'd love to play it like a

-new game: we know nothing at all about each other, any more than if we

-had dropped from the moon into the boat together. Oh! do be quick!

-We've so little time; the river is quite narrow; who's to open the

-ball?"

-

-"I'll begin, by right of my profession; put the witness in the box,

-please.--What is your name, madam?"

-

-"Robinette Loring," she said demurely, clasping her hands on her knee,

-an almost childlike delight in the new game dimpling the corners of

-her mouth from time to time.

-

-"What is your age, madam?" Lavendar hesitated just for a moment before

-putting this question.

-

-"I refuse to answer; you must guess."

-

-"Contempt of Court--"

-

-"Well, go on; I'm twenty-two and six weeks."

-

-"Thank you, you are remarkably well preserved. I can hardly

-believe--those six-weeks! What nationality?"

-

-"American, of course, or half and half; with an English mother and

-American ideas."

-

-"Thank you. Where is your present place of residence?"

-

-"Stoke Revel Manor House."

-

-"What is the duration of the visit?"

-

-"Fixed at a month, but may be shortened at any time for bad

-behaviour."

-

-"Your purpose in coming to Stoke Revel?"

-

-"A Sentimental Journey, in search of fond relations."

-

-"Have you found these relations?"

-

-"I've found them; but the fondness is still to seek."

-

-"Have you left your family in America?"

-

-"I have no one belonging to me in the world," she answered simply, and

-her bright face clouded suddenly.

-

-There was a moment's rather embarrassed silence. "It's getting to be a

-sad game"; she said. "It's my turn now. I'll be the cross-examiner,

-but not having had your legal training, I'll tell you a few facts

-about this witness to begin with. He's a lawyer; I know that already.

-Your Christian name, sir?"

-

-"Mark."

-

-"Mark Lavendar. 'Mark the perfect man.' Where have I heard that; in

-Pope or in the Bible? Thank you; very good; your age is between thirty

-and thirty-five, with a strong probability that it is thirty-three. Am

-I right?"

-

-"Approximately, madam."

-

-"You are unmarried, for married men don't play games like this; they

-are too sedate."

-

-"You reassure me! Am I expected to acknowledge the truth of all your

-observations?"

-

-"You have only to answer my questions, sir."

-

-"I am unmarried, madam."

-

-"Your nationality?"

-

-"English of course. You don't count a French grandmother, I suppose?"

-

-Robinette clapped her hands. "Of course I do; it accounts for this

-game; it just makes all the difference.--Why have you come to Stoke

-Revel; couldn't you help it?"

-

-A twinkle passed from the blue eyes to the brown ones.

-

-"I am here on business connected with the estate."

-

-"For how long?"

-

-"An hour ago I thought all might be completed in a few days, but these

-affairs are sometimes unaccountably prolonged!" (Was there another

-twinkle? Robinette could hardly say.) They were half-way across the

-river now. She leaned over and looked at herself in the water for a

-moment.

-

-Lavendar rested on his oars, and began to rub the palms of his hands,

-smiling a little to himself as he bent his head.

-

-"Yours is an odd Christian name," he said. "I've never heard it

-before."

-

-"Then you haven't visited your National Gallery faithfully enough,"

-said Mrs. Loring. "Robinetta is one of the Sir Joshua pictures there,

-you know, and it was a great favourite of my mother's in her girlhood.

-Indeed she saved up her pin-money for nearly two years that she might

-have a good copy of it made to hang in her bedroom where she could

-look at it night and morning."

-

-"Then you were named after the picture?"

-

-"I was named from the memory of it," said Robinette, trailing her hand

-through the clear water. "Mother took nothing to America with her but

-my father's love (there was so much of that, it made up for all she

-left behind), so the picture was thousands of miles away when I was

-born. Mother told me that when I was first put into her arms she

-thought suddenly, as she saw my dark head, 'Here is my own Robinetta,

-in place of the one I left behind,' and fell asleep straight away,

-full of joy and content."

-

-"And they shortened the name to Robinette?"

-

-"I was christened properly enough," she answered. "It was the world

-that clipped my name's little wings; the world refuses to take me

-seriously; I can't think why, I'm sure; I never regarded _it_ as a

-joke."

-

-"A joke," said Lavendar reflectively; "it's a sort of grim one at

-times; and yet it's funny too," he said, suddenly raising his eyes.

-

-"Now that's the odd thing I was thinking as I looked at you just now,"

-Robinette said frankly. "You seem so deadly solemn until you look up

-and laugh--and then you _do_ laugh, you know. That's the French

-grandmother again! It was nice in her to marry your grandfather! It

-helped a lot!"

-

-He laughed then certainly, and so did she, and then pointed out to him

-that they were being slowly drifted out of their course, and that if

-he meant to get across to the landing-stage he must row a little

-harder.

-

-"I have met American women casually;" he said, bending to his oars,

-"but I have never known one well."

-

-"It's rather too bad to disturb the tranquillity of your impressions,"

-returned Mrs. Loring composedly.

-

-Lavendar looked up with another twinkle. She seemed to provoke

-twinkles; he did not realize he had so many in stock.

-

-"You mean American women are not painted in quite the right colours?"

-

-"I suppose black _is_ a colour?"

-

-"Oh! I see your point of view!" and Lavendar twinkled again.

-

-"I can tell you in five sentences exactly what you have heard about

-us. Will you say whether I am right? If you refuse I'll put you in the

-witness box and then you'll be forced to speak!"

-

-"Very well; proceed."

-

-"One: We are clever, good conversationalists, and as cold as

-icicles."

-

-"Yes."

-

-"Two: We dress beautifully and use extravagant means to compass our

-ends in this direction."

-

-"Yes."

-

-"Three: We keep our overworked husbands under strict discipline."

-

-"Yes! I say,--I don't like this game."

-

-"Neither do I, but it's very much played,--"

-

-"Four: We prefer hotels to home life and don't bring up our children

-well."

-

-"Yes."

-

-"Five: We interfere with the proper game laws by bagging English

-husbands instead of staying on our own preserves. That's about all, I

-think. Were not those rumours tolerably familiar to you in the

-ha'penny papers and their human counterparts?"

-

-Lavendar was so amused by this direct storming of his opinion that he

-could hardly keep his laughter within bounds. "I've heard one other

-criticism," he said, "that you were all pretty and all had small feet

-and hands! I am now able to declare that to be a base calumny and to

-hope that all the others will prove just as false!" Then Robinette

-laughed too; eyes, lips, cheeks! When Lavendar looked at her he wished

-that his father would keep him at Stoke Revel for a month.

-

-The sun was going down now, and the rising tide came swelling up from

-the sea, lifting itself and silently swelling the volume of the river,

-in a way that had something awful about it. The whole current of the

-great stream was against it, but behind was the force of the sea and

-so it filled and filled with hardly a ripple, as the heart is filled

-with a new desire. Up from the mouth of the river came a faint breeze

-bringing the taste of the ocean into the deeply wooded creeks. It had

-freshened into a little wind, as they drew up at the boat-house, that

-flapped Robinette's blue cape about her, and dyed the colour in her

-cheeks to a livelier tint. As they walked up the narrow pathway to the

-house a deep silence fell between them that neither attempted to

-break.

-

-At the top of the hill, she paused to take breath, and look across the

-river. It was half dark already there, on the other side in the deep

-shadow of the hill; and a lamp in the window of the cottage shone like

-a star beside the faintly green shape of the budding plum tree.

-

-As Robinette entered the door of the Manor House she took out her

-little gold-meshed purse and handed Mark Lavendar a penny.

-

-"It's none too much," she said, meeting his astonished gaze with a

-smile. "I should have had to pay it on the public ferry, and you were

-ever so much nicer than the footman!"

-

-Lavendar put the penny in his waistcoat pocket and has never spent it

-to this day. It is impossible to explain these things; one can only

-state them as facts. Another fact, too, that he suddenly remembered,

-when he went to his room, was, that the moment her personality touched

-his he was filled with curiosity about her. He had met hundreds of

-women and enjoyed their conversation, but seldom longed to know on the

-instant everything that had previously happened to them.

-

-

-

-

-VIII

-

-SUNDAY AT STOKE REVEL

-

-

-On Sundays, the Stoke Revel household was expected to appear at church

-in full strength, visitors included.

-

-"We meet in the hall punctually at a quarter to eleven," it was Miss

-Smeardon's duty to announce to strangers. "Mrs. de Tracy always

-prefers that the Stoke Revel guests should walk down together, as it

-sets a good example to the villagers."

-

-"What Nelson said about going to church with Lady Hamilton!" Lavendar

-had once commented, irrepressibly, but the allusion, rather

-fortunately, was lost upon Miss Smeardon. Mark began to picture the

-familiar Sunday scene to himself; Miss Smeardon in the hall at a

-quarter to eleven punctually, marshalling the church-goers; and Mrs.

-Loring,--she would be late of course, and come fluttering downstairs

-in some bewitching combination of flowery hat and floating scarf that

-no one had ever seen before. What a lover's opportunity in this

-lateness, thought the young man to himself; but one could enjoy a walk

-to church in charming company, though something less than a lover.

-

-It was Mrs. de Tracy's custom, on Sunday mornings, to precede her

-household by half an hour in going to the sanctuary. No infirmities of

-old age had invaded her iron constitution, and it was nothing to her

-to walk alone to the church of Stoke Revel, steep though the hill was

-which led down through the ancient village to the yet more ancient

-edifice at its foot. During this solitary interval, Mrs. de Tracy

-visited her husband's tomb, and no one knew, or dared, or cared to

-enquire, what motive encouraged this pious action in a character so

-devoid of tenderness and sentiment. Was it affection, was it duty, was

-it a mere form, a tribute to the greatness of an owner of Stoke

-Revel, such as a nation pays to a dead king? Who could tell?

-

-The graveyard of Stoke Revel owned a yew tree, so very, very old that

-the count of its years was lost and had become a fable or a fairy

-tale. It was twisted, gnarled, and low; and its long branches, which

-would have reached the ground, were upheld, like the arms of some

-dying patriarch, by supports, themselves old and moss-grown. Under the

-spreading of this ancient tree were graves, and from the carved,

-age-eaten porch of the church, a path led among them, under the green

-tunnel, out into the sunny space beyond it. The Admiral lay in a vault

-of which the door was at the side of the church, for no de Tracy, of

-course, could occupy a mere grave, like one of the common herd; and

-here walked the funereal figure of Mrs. de Tracy, fair weather or

-foul, nearly every Sunday in the year.

-

-In justice to Mrs. de Tracy, it must be made plain that with all her

-faults, small spite was not a part of her character. Yet to-day, her

-anger had been stirred by an incident so small that its very

-triviality annoyed her pride. It was Mark Lavendar's custom, when his

-visits to Stoke Revel included a Sunday, cheerfully to evade

-church-going. His Sundays in the country were few, he said, and he

-preferred to enjoy them in the temple of nature, generally taking a

-long walk before lunch. But to-day he had announced his intention of

-coming to service, and well Mrs. de Tracy, versed in men and in human

-nature, knew why. Robinette would be there, and Lavendar followed, as

-the bee follows a basket of flowers on a summer day. As Mrs. de Tracy,

-like the Stoic that she was, accepted all the inevitable facts of

-life,--birth, death, love, hate (she had known them all in her day),

-she accepted this one also. But in that atrophy of every feeling

-except bitterness, that atrophy which is perhaps the only real

-solitude, the only real old age, her animosity was stirred. It was as

-though a dead branch upon some living tree was angry with the spring

-for breathing on it. As she returned, herself unseen in the shadow of

-the yew tree, she saw Lavendar and Robinette enter together under the

-lych-gate, the figure of the young woman touched with sunlight and

-colour, her lips moving, and Lavendar smiling in answer. In the

-clashing of the bells--bells which shook the air, the earth, the

-ancient stones, the very nests upon the trees--their voices were

-inaudible, but in their faces was a young happiness and hope to which

-the solitary woman could not blind herself.

-

-Presently in the lukewarm air within, Robinette was finding the

-church's immemorial smell of prayer-books, hassocks, decaying wood,

-damp stones, matting, school-children, and altar flowers, a harmonious

-and suggestive one if not pleasant. What an ancient air it was, she

-thought; breathed and re-breathed by slow generations of Stoke

-Revellers during their sleepy devotions! The very light that entered

-through the dim stained glass seemed old and dusty, it had seen so

-much during so many hundred years, seen so much, and found out so many

-secrets! Soon the clashing of the bells ceased and upon the still

-reverberating silence there broke the small, snoring noises of a

-rather ineffectual organ, while the amiable curate, Rev. Tobias Finch,

-made his appearance, and the service began.

-

-Mrs. de Tracy had entered the pew first, naturally; Miss Smeardon sat

-next, then Robinetta. Lavendar occupied the pew in front, alone, and

-through her half-closed eyelids Robinetta could see the line of his

-lean cheek and bony temple. He had not wished to sit there at all and

-he was so unresigned as to be badly in need of the soothing influences

-of Morning Prayer. Robinetta was beginning to wonder dreamily what

-manner of man this really was, behind his plain face and non-committal

-manner, when the muffled slam of a door behind, startled her, followed

-as it was by a quick step upon the matted aisle. Then without further

-warning, a big, broad-shouldered boy, in the uniform of a British

-midshipman, thrust himself into the pew beside her, hot and breathless

-after running hard. Mrs. Loring guessed at once that this must be

-Carnaby de Tracy, the young hopeful and heir of Stoke Revel of whom

-Mr. Lavendar had so often spoken, but the startling and unconventional

-nature of his appearance was not at all what one expected in a member

-of his family. Robinette stole more than one look at him as the

-offertory went round; a robust boy with a square chin, a fair face

-burnt red by the sun, a rollicking eye and an impudent nose; not

-handsome certainly, indeed quite plain, but he looked honest and

-strong and clean, and Robinette's frolicsome youth was drawn to his,

-all ready for fun. Carnaby hitched about a good deal, dropped his

-hymn-book, moved the hassock, took out his handkerchief, and on

-discovering a huge hole, turned crimson.

-

-Service over, the congregation shuffled out into the sunshine, and

-Mrs. de Tracy, after a characteristically cool and disapproving

-recognition of her grandson, became occupied with villagers.

-Lavendar made known young Carnaby to Mrs. David Loring, but the

-midshipman's light grey eyes had discovered the pretty face without

-any assistance.

-

-"This lady is your American cousin, Carnaby," said Mark. "Did you know

-you had one?"

-

-"I don't think I did," answered the boy, "but it's never too late to

-mend!" He attempted a bow of finished grown-upness, failed somewhat,

-and melted at once into an engaging boyishness, under which his

-frank admiration of his new-found relative was not to be hidden. "I

-say, are you stopping at Stoke Revel?" he asked, as though the news

-were too good to be true. "Jolly! Hullo--" he broke off with

-animation as the cassocked figure of the Rev. Tobias Finch fluttered

-out from the porch--"here's old Toby! Watch Miss Smeardon now! She

-expects to catch him, you know, but he says he's going to be a

-celly--celly-what-d'you-call-'em?"

-

-"Celibate?" suggested Lavendar, with laughing eyes.

-

-"The very word, thank you!" said Carnaby. "Yes: a celibate. Not so

-easily nicked, good old Toby--you bet!"

-

-"Do the clergymen over here always dress like that?" inquired

-Robinetta, trying to suppress a tendency to laugh at his slang.

-

-"Cassock?" said Carnaby. "Toby wouldn't be seen without it. High, you

-know! Bicycles in it. Fact! Goes to bed in it, I believe."

-

-"Carnaby, Carnaby! Come away!" said Lavendar. "Restrain these flights

-of imagination! Don't you see how they shock Mrs. Loring?"

-

-Before the Manor was reached, Robinetta and Carnaby had sworn eternal

-friendship deeper than any cousinship, they both declared. They met

-upon a sort of platform of Stoke Revel, predestined to sympathy upon

-all its salient characteristics; two naughty children on a holiday.

-

-"Do you get enough to eat here?" asked Carnaby in a hollow whisper, in

-the drawing-room before lunch.

-

-"Of course I have enough, Middy," answered Robinetta with unconscious

-reservation. She had rejected "Carnaby" at once as a name quite

-impossible: he was "Middy" to her almost from the first moment of

-their acquaintance.

-

-"Enough?" he ejaculated, "_I_ don't! I'd never be fed if it weren't

-for old Bates and Mrs. Smith and Cooky." Bates was the butler, Mrs.

-Smith the housekeeper, and Cooky her satellite. "Nobody gets enough to

-eat in this house!" added Carnaby darkly, "except the dog."

-

-At the lunch-table, the antagonism natural between a hot-blooded

-impetuous boy and a grandmother such as Mrs. de Tracy became rather

-painfully apparent. He had already been hauled over the coals for his

-arrival on Sunday and his indecorous appearance in church after

-service had begun.

-

-"It does not appear to me that you are at all in need of sick-leave,"

-said Mrs. de Tracy suspiciously.

-

-Carnaby, sensitive for all his robustness, flushed hotly, and then

-became impertinent. "My pulse is twenty beats too quick still, after

-quinsy. If you don't believe the doctor, ma'am, it's not my fault."

-

-"Carnaby has committed indiscretions in the way of growing since I

-last saw him," Lavendar broke in hastily. "At sixteen one may easily

-outgrow one's strength!"

-

-"Indeed!" said Mrs. de Tracy, frigidly. The situation was saved by the

-behaviour of the lap-dog, which suddenly burst into a passion of

-barking and convulsive struggling in Miss Smeardon's arms. His enemy

-had come, and Carnaby had fifty ways of exasperating his grandmother's

-favourite, secrets between him and the bewildered dog. Rupert was a

-Prince Charles of pedigree as unquestioned as his mistress's and an

-appearance dating back to Vandyke, but Carnaby always addressed him as

-"Lord Roberts," for reasons of his own. It annoyed his grandmother and

-it infuriated the dog, who took it for a deadly insult.

-

-"Lord Roberts! Bobs, old man, hi! hi!" Carnaby had but to say the

-words to make the little dog convulsive. He said them now, and the

-results seemed likely to be fatal to a dropsical animal so soon after

-a full meal.

-

-"You'll kill him!" whispered Robinette as they left the dining room.

-

-"I mean to!" was the calm reply. "I'd like to wring old Smeardon's

-neck too!" but the broad good humour of the rosy face, the twinkling

-eyes, belied these truculent words. In spite of infinite powers of

-mischief, there was not an ounce of vindictiveness in Carnaby de

-Tracy, though there might be other qualities difficult to deal with.

-

-"There's a man to be made there--or to be marred!" said Robinette to

-herself.

-

-

-

-

-IX

-

-POINTS OF VIEW

-

-

-Evenings at Stoke Revel were of a dullness all too deep to be sounded

-and too closely hedged in by tradition and observance to be evaded or

-shortened by the boldest visitor. Lavendar and the boy would have

-prolonged their respite in the smoking room had they dared, but in

-these later days Lavendar found he wished to be below on guard. The

-thought of Robinette alone between the two women downstairs made him

-uneasy. It was as though some bird of bright plumage had strayed into

-a barnyard to be pecked at by hens. Not but what he realised that this

-particular bird had a spirit of her own, and plenty of courage, but no

-man with even a prospective interest in a pretty woman, likes to think

-of the object of his admiration as thoroughly well able to look after

-herself. She must needs have a protector, and the heaven-sent one is

-himself.

-

-He had to take up arms in her defense on this, the first night of his

-arrival. Mrs. Loring had gone up to her room for some photographs of

-her house in America, and as she flitted through the door her scarf

-caught on the knob, and he had been obliged to extricate it. He had

-known her exactly four hours, and although he was unconscious of it,

-his heart was being pulled along the passage and up the stairway at

-the tail-end of that wisp of chiffon, while he listened to her

-retreating footsteps. Closing the door he came back to Mrs. de Tracy's

-side.

-

-"Her dress is indecorous for a widow," said that lady severely.

-

-"Oh, I don't see that," replied Lavendar. "She is in reality only a

-girl, and her widowhood has already lasted two years, you say."

-

-"Once a widow always a widow," returned Mrs. de Tracy sententiously,

-with a self-respecting glance at her own cap and the half-dozen dull

-jet ornaments she affected. Lavendar laughed outright, but she rather

-liked his laughter: it made her think herself witty. Once he had told

-her she was "delicious," and she had never forgotten it.

-

-"That's going pretty far, my dear lady," he replied. "Not all women

-are so faithful to a memory as you. I understand Americans don't wear

-weeds, and to me her blue cape is a delightful note in the landscape.

-Her dresses are conventional and proper, and I fancy she cannot

-express herself without a bit of colour."

-

-"The object of clothing, Mark, is to cover and to protect yourself,

-not to express yourself," said Mrs. de Tracy bitingly.

-

-"The thought of wearing anything bright always makes me shrink,"

-remarked Miss Smeardon, who had never apparently observed the tip of

-her own nose, "but some persons are less sensitive on these points

-than others."

-

-Mrs. de Tracy bowed an approving assent to this. "A widow's only

-concern should be to refrain from attracting notice," she said, as

-though quoting from a private book of proverbial philosophy soon to be

-published.

-

-"Then Mrs. Loring might as well have burned herself on her husband's

-funeral pyre, Hindoo fashion!" argued Lavendar. "A woman's life hasn't

-ended at two and twenty. It's hardly begun, and I fear the lady in

-question will arouse attention whatever she wears."

-

-"Would she be called attractive?" asked Mrs. de Tracy with surprise.

-

-"Oh, yes, without a doubt!"

-

-"In gentlemen's eyes, I suppose you mean?" said Miss Smeardon.

-

-"Yes, in gentlemen's eyes," answered Lavendar, firmly. "Those of women

-are apparently furnished with different lenses. But here comes the

-fair object of our discussion, so we must decide it later on."

-

-The question of ancestors, a favourite one at Stoke Revel, came up in

-the course of the next evening's conversation, and Lavendar found

-Robinette a trifle flushed but smiling under a double fire of

-questions from Mrs. de Tracy and her companion. Mrs. de Tracy was in

-her usual chair, knitting; Miss Smeardon sat by the table with a piece

-of fancy-work; Robinette had pulled a foot-stool to the hearthrug and

-sat as near the flames as she conveniently could. She shielded her

-face with the last copy of _Punch_, and let her shoulders bask in the

-warmth of the fire, which made flickering shadows on her creamy neck.

-Her white skirts swept softly round her feet, and her favourite

-turquoise scarf made a note of colour in her lap. She was one of those

-women who, without positive beauty, always make pictures of

-themselves.

-

-Lavendar analyzed her looks as he joined the circle, pretending to

-read. "She isn't posing," he thought, "but she ought to be painted.

-She ought always to be painted, each time one sees her, for

-everything about her suggests a portrait. That blue ribbon in her hair

-is fairly distracting! What the dickens is the reason one wants to

-look at her all the time! I've seen far handsomer women!"

-

-"Do you use Burke and Debrett in your country, Mrs. Loring?" Miss

-Smeardon was enquiring politely, as she laid down one red volume after

-the other, having ascertained the complete family tree of a lady who

-had called that afternoon.

-

-Robinette smiled. "I'm afraid we've nothing but telephone or business

-directories, social registers, and 'Who's Who,' in America," she

-said.

-

-"You are not interested in questions of genealogy, I suppose?" asked

-Mrs. de Tracy pityingly.

-

-"I can hardly say that. But I think perhaps that we are more occupied

-with the future than with the past."

-

-"That is natural," assented the lady of the Manor, "since you have so

-much more of it, haven't you? But the mixture of races in your

-country," she continued condescendingly, "must have made you

-indifferent to purity of strain."

-

-"I hope we are not wholly indifferent," said Robinette, as though she

-were stopping to consider. "I think every serious-minded person must

-be proud to inherit fine qualities and to pass them on. Surely it

-isn't enough to give _old_ blood to the next generation--it must be

-_good_ blood. Yes! the right stock certainly means something to an

-American."

-

-"But if you've nothing that answers to Burke and Debrett, I don't see

-how you can find out anybody's pedigree," objected Miss Smeardon. Then

-with an air of innocent curiosity and a glance supposed to be arch,

-"Are the Red Indians, the Negroes, and the Chinese in your so-called

-directories?"

-

-"As many of them as are in business, or have won their way to any

-position among men no doubt are there, I suppose," answered Robinette

-straightforwardly. "I think we just guess at people's ancestry by the

-way they look, act, and speak," she continued musingly. "You can

-'guess' quite well if you are clever at it. No Indians or Chinese ever

-dine with me, Miss Smeardon, though I'd rather like a peaceful Indian

-at dinner for a change; but I expect he'd find me very dull and

-uneventful!"

-

-"Dull!--that's a word I very often hear on American lips," broke in

-Lavendar as he looked over the top of Henry Newbolt's poems. "I

-believe being dull is thought a criminal offence in your country. Now,

-isn't there some danger involved in this fear of dullness?"

-

-"I shouldn't wonder," Robinette answered thoughtfully, looking into

-the fire. "Yes; I dare say there is, but I'm afraid there are social

-and mental dangers involved in _not_ being afraid of it, too!" Her

-mischievous eyes swept the room, with Mrs. de Tracy's solemn figure

-and Miss Smeardon's for its bright ornaments. "The moment a person or

-a nation allows itself to be too dull, it ceases to be quite alive,

-doesn't it? But as to us Americans, Mr. Lavendar, bear with us for a

-few years, we are so ridiculously young! It is our growing time, and

-what you want in a young plant is growth, isn't it?"

-

-"Y-yes," Lavendar replied: then with a twinkle in his blue eyes he

-added: "Only somehow we don't like to hear a plant grow! It should

-manage to perform the operation quite silently, showing not processes

-but results. That's a counsel of perfection, perhaps, but don't slay

-me for plain-speaking, Mrs. Loring!"

-

-Robinette laughed. "I'll never slay you for saying anything so wise

-and true as that!" she said, and Lavendar, flushing under her praise,

-was charmed with her good humour.

-

-"America's a very large country, is it not?" enquired Miss Smeardon

-with her usual brilliancy. "What is its area?"

-

-"Bigger than England, but not as big as the British Empire!" suggested

-Carnaby, feeling the conversation was drifting into his ken.

-

-"It's just the size of the moon, I've heard!" said Robinette

-teasingly. "Does that throw any light on the question?"

-

-"Moonlight!" laughed Carnaby, much pleased with his own wit. "Ha! ha!

-That's the first joke I've made this holidays. _Moonlight!_ Jolly

-good!"

-

-"If you'd take a joke a little more in your stride, my son," said

-Lavendar, "we should be more impressed by your mental sparkles."

-

-"Straighten the sofa-cushions, Carnaby," said his grandmother, "and

-don't lounge. I missed the point of your so-called joke entirely. As

-to the size of a country or anything else, I have never understood

-that it affected its quality. In fruit or vegetables, for instance, it

-generally means coarseness and indifferent flavour." Miss Smeardon

-beamed at this palpable hit, but Mrs. Loring deprived the situation of

-its point by backing up Mrs. de Tracy heartily. She had no opinion of

-mere size, either, she declared.

-

-"You don't stand up for your country half enough," objected Carnaby to

-his cousin. ("Why don't you give the old cat beans?" was his

-supplement, _sotto voce_.)

-

-"Just attack some of my pet theories and convictions, Middy dear, if

-you wish to see me in a rage," said Robinette lightly, "but my motto

-will never be 'My country right or wrong.'"

-

-"Nor mine," agreed Lavendar. "I'm heartily with you there."

-

-"It's a great venture we're trying in America. I wish every one would

-try to look at it in that light," said Robinette with a slight flush

-of earnestness.

-

-"What do you mean by a venture?" asked Mrs. de Tracy.

-

-"The experiment we're making in democracy," answered Robinette. "It's

-fallen to us to try it, for of course it simply had to be tried. It

-is thrillingly interesting, whatever it may turn out, and I wish I

-might live to see the end of it. We are creating a race, Aunt de

-Tracy; think of that!"

-

-"It's as difficult for nations as for individuals to hit the happy

-medium," said Lavendar, stirring the fire. "Enterprise carried too far

-becomes vulgar hustling, while stability and conservatism often pass

-the coveted point of repose and degenerate into torpor."

-

-"This part of England seems to me singularly free from faults,"

-interposed Mrs. de Tracy in didactic tones. "We have a wonderful

-climate; more sunshine than in any part of the island, I believe. Our

-local society is singularly free from scandal. The clergy, if not

-quite as eloquent or profound as in London (and in my opinion it is

-the better for being neither) is strictly conscientious. We have no

-burglars or locusts or gnats or even midges, as I'm told they

-unfortunately have in Scotland, and our dinner-parties, though quiet

-and dignified, are never dull.... What is the matter, Robinetta?"

-

-"A sudden catch in my throat," said Robinette, struggling with some

-sort of vocal difficulty and avoiding Lavendar's eye. "Thank you," as

-he offered her a glass of water from the punctual and strictly

-temperate evening tray. "Don't look at me," she added under her

-voice.

-

-"Not for a million of money!" he whispered. Then he said aloud: "If I

-ever stand for Parliament, Mrs. Loring, I should like you to help me

-with my constituency!"

-

-The unruffled temper and sweet reasonableness of Robinette's answers

-to questions by no means always devoid of malice, had struck the young

-man very much, as he listened.

-

-"She is good!" he thought to himself. "Good and sweet and generous.

-Her loveliness is not only in her face; it is in her heart." And some

-favorite lines began to run in his head that night, with new

-conviction:--

-

-                 He that loves a rosy cheek,

-                   Or a coral lip admires,

-                 Or from star-like eyes doth seek

-                   Fuel to maintain his fires,--

-                 As old Time makes these decay,

-                   So his flames will waste away.

-

-                 But a smooth and steadfast mind,

-                   Gentle thoughts and calm desires,

-                 Hearts with equal love combined--

-

-but here Lavendar broke off with a laugh.

-

-"It's not come to that yet!" he thought. "I wonder if it ever will?"

-

-

-

-

-X

-

-A NEW KINSMAN

-

-

-Young Mrs. Loring was making her way slowly at Stoke Revel Manor, and

-Mrs. de Tracy, though never affectionate, treated her with a little

-less indifference as the days went on. "The Admiral's niece is a

-lady," she admitted to herself privately; "not perhaps the highest

-type of English lady; that, considering her mixed ancestry and

-American education, would be too much to expect; but in the broad,

-general meaning of the word, unmistakably a lady!"

-

-Mrs. Benson, though not melting outwardly as yet, held more lenient

-views still with regard to the American guest. Bates, the butler, was

-elderly, and severely Church of England; his knowledge of widows was

-confined to the type ably represented by his mistress and he regarded

-young Mrs. Loring as inclined to be "flighty." The footman, who was

-entirely under the butler's thumb in mundane matters, had fallen into

-the habit of sharing his opinions, and while agreeing in the general

-feeling of flightiness, declared boldly that the lady in question gave

-a certain "style" to the dinner-table that it had lacked before her

-advent.

-

-For a helpless victim, however, a slave bound in fetters of steel, one

-would have to know Cummins, the under housemaid, who lighted Mrs.

-Loring's fire night and morning. She was young, shy, country bred, and

-new to service. When Mrs. Benson sent her to the guest's room at eight

-o'clock on the morning after her arrival she stopped outside the door

-in a panic of fear.

-

-"Come in!" called a cheerful voice. "Come in!"

-

-Cummins entered, bearing her box with brush and cloth and kindlings.

-To her further embarrassment Mrs. Loring was sitting up in bed with an

-ermine coat on, over which her bright hair fell in picturesque

-disorder. She had brought the coat for theatre and opera, but as these

-attractions were lacking at Stoke Revel and as life there was, to her,

-one prolonged Polar expedition, with dashes farthest north morning and

-evening, she had diverted it to practical uses.

-

-"Make me a quick fire please, a big fire, a hot fire," she begged, "or

-I shall be late for breakfast; I never can step into that tin tub till

-the ice is melted."

-

-"There's no ice in it, ma'am," expostulated Cummins gently, with the

-voice of a wood dove.

-

-"You can't see it because you're English," said the strange lady, "but

-I can see it and feel it. Oh, you make _such_ a good fire! What is

-your name, please?"

-

-"Cummins, ma'am."

-

-"There's another Cummins downstairs, but she is tall and large. You

-shall be 'Little Cummins.'"

-

-Now every morning the shy maid palpitated outside the bedroom door,

-having given her modest knock; palpitated for fear it should be all a

-dream. But no, it was not! there would be a clear-voiced "Come in!"

-and then, as she entered; "Good morning, Little Cummins. I've been

-longing for you since daybreak!" A trifle later on it was, "Good

-Little Cummins bearing coals of comfort! Kind Little Cummins," and

-other strange and wonderful terms of praise, until Little Cummins felt

-herself consumed by a passion to which Mrs. de Tracy's coals became as

-less than naught unless they could be heaped on the altar of the

-beloved.

-

-So life went on at Stoke Revel, outwardly even and often dull, while

-in reality many subtle changes were taking place below the surface;

-changes slight in themselves but not without meaning.

-

-Robinette ran up to her room directly after breakfast one morning and

-pinned on her hat as she came downstairs. Mark Lavendar had gone to

-London for a few days, but even the dullness of breakfast-table

-conversation had not robbed her of her joy in the early sunshine, made

-more cheery by the prospect of a walk with Carnaby, with whom she was

-now fast friends.

-

-Carnaby looked at her beamingly as they stood together on the steps.

-"You're the best turned-out woman of my acquaintance," he said

-approvingly, with a laughable struggle for the tone of a middle-aged

-man of the world.

-

-"How many ladies of fashion do you know, my child?" enquired

-Robinetta, pulling on her gloves.

-

-"I see a lot of 'em off and on," Carnaby answered somewhat huffily,

-"and they don't call me a child either!"

-

-"Don't they? Then that's because they're timid and don't dare address

-a future Admiral as Infant-in-Arms! Come on, Middy dear, let's walk."

-

-Robinette wore a white serge dress and jacket, and her hat was a rough

-straw turned up saucily in two places with black owls' heads. Mrs.

-Benson and Little Cummins had looked at it curiously while Robinette

-was at breakfast.

-

-"'Tis black underneath and white on top, Mrs. Benson. 'Ow can that be?

-It looks as if one 'at 'ad been clapped on another!"

-

-"That's what it is, Cummins. It's a double hat; but they'll do

-anything in America. It's a double hat with two black owls' heads, and

-I'll wager they charged double price for it!"

-

-"She's a lovely beauty in anythink and everythink she wears," said

-Little Cummins loyally.

-

-"May I call you 'Cousin Robin'?" Carnaby asked as they walked along.

-"Robinette is such a long name."

-

-"Cousin Robin is very nice, I think," she answered. "As a matter

-of fact I ought to be your Aunt Robin; it would be much more

-appropriate."

-

-"Aunt be blowed!" ejaculated Carnaby.

-

-"You're very fond of making yourself out old, but it's no go! When I

-first heard you were a widow I thought you would be grandmother's

-age,--I say--do you think you will marry another time, Cousin Robin?"

-

-"That's a very leading question for a gentleman to put to a lady! Were

-you intending to ask me to wait for you, Middy dear?" asked Robinette,

-putting her arm in the boy's laughingly, quite unconscious of his

-mood.

-

-"I'd wait quick enough if you'd let me! I'd wait a lifetime! There

-never was anybody like you in the world!"

-

-The words were said half under the boy's breath and the emotion in his

-tone was a complete and disagreeable surprise. Here was something that

-must be nipped in the bud, instantly and courageously. Robinette

-dropped Carnaby's arm and said: "We'll talk that over at once, Middy

-dear, but first you shall race me to the top of the twisting path,

-down past the tulip beds, to the seat under the big ash tree.--Come

-on!"

-

-The two reached the tree in a moment, Carnaby sufficiently in advance

-to preserve his self-respect and with a colour heightened by something

-other than the exercise of running.

-

-"Sit down, first cousin once removed!" said Robinette. "Do you know

-the story of Sydney Smith, who wrote apologizing to somebody for not

-being able to come to dinner? 'The house is full of cousins,' he said;

-'would they were "once removed"!'"

-

-"It's no good telling me literary anecdotes!--You're not treating me

-fairly," said Carnaby sulkily.

-

-"I'm treating you exactly as you should be treated, Infant-in-Arms,"

-Robinette answered firmly. "Give me your two paws, and look me

-straight in the eye."

-

-Carnaby was no coward. His steel-grey eyes blazed as he met his

-cousin's look. "Carnaby dear, do you know what you are to me? You are

-my kinsman; my only male relation. I'm so fond of you already, don't

-spoil it! Think what you can be to me if you will. I am all alone in

-the world and when you grow a little older how I should like to depend

-upon you! I need affection; so do you, dear boy; can't I see how you

-are just starving for it? There is no reason in the world why we

-shouldn't be fond of each other! Oh! how grateful I should be to think

-of a strong young middy growing up to advise me and take me about! It

-was that kind of care and thought of me that was in your mind just

-now!"

-

-"You'll be marrying somebody one of these days," blurted Carnaby,

-wholly moved, but only half convinced. "Then you'll forget all about

-your 'kinsman.'"

-

-"I have no intention in that direction," said Robinette, "but if I

-change my mind I'll consult you first; how will that do?"

-

-"It wouldn't do any good," sighed the boy, "so I'd rather you

-wouldn't! You'd have your own way spite of everything a fellow could

-say against it!"

-

-There was a moment of embarrassment; then the silence was promptly

-broken by Robinette.

-

-"Well, Middy dear, are we the best of friends?" she asked, rising from

-the bench and putting out her hand.

-

-The lad took it and said all in a glow of chivalry, "You're the

-dearest, the best, and the prettiest cousin in the world! You don't

-mind my thinking you're the prettiest?"

-

-"Mind it? I delight in it! I shall come to your ship and pour out tea

-for you in my most fetching frock. Your friends will say: 'Who is that

-particularly agreeable lady, Carnaby?' And you, with swelling chest,

-will respond, 'That's my American cousin, Mrs. Loring. She's a nice

-creature; I'm glad you like her!'"

-

-Robinette's imitation of Carnaby's possible pomposity was so amusing

-and so clever that it drew a laugh from the boy in spite of himself.

-

-"Just let anyone try to call you a 'creature'!" he exclaimed. "He'd

-have me to reckon with! Oh! I am so tired of being a boy! The inside

-of me is all grown up and everybody keeps on looking at the outside

-and thinking I'm just the same as I always was!"

-

-"Dear old Middy, you're quite old enough to be my protector and that

-is what you shall be! Now shall we go in? I want you to stand near by

-while I ask your grandmother a favor."

-

-"She won't do it if she can help it," was Carnaby's succinct reply.

-

-"Oh, I am not sure! Where shall we find her,--in the library?"

-

-"Yes; come along! Get up your circulation; you'll need it!"

-

-"Aunt de Tracy, there is something at Stoke Revel I am very anxious to

-have if you will give it to me," said Robinette, as she came into the

-library a few minutes later.

-

-Mrs. de Tracy looked up from her knitting solemnly. "If it belongs to

-me, I shall no doubt be willing, as I know you would not ask for

-anything out of the common; but I own little here; nearly all is

-Carnaby's."

-

-"This was my mother's," said Robinette. "It is a picture hanging in

-the smoking room; one that was a great favorite of hers, called

-'Robinetta.' Her drawing-master found an Italian artist in London who

-went to the National Gallery and made a copy of the Sir Joshua

-picture, and I was named after it."

-

-"I wish your mother could have been a little less romantic," sighed

-Mrs. de Tracy. "There were such fine old family names she might have

-used: Marcia and Elspeth, and Rosamond and Winifred!"

-

-"I am sorry, Aunt de Tracy. If I had been consulted I believe I should

-have agreed with you. Perhaps when my mother was in America the family

-ties were not drawn as tightly as in the former years?"

-

-"If it was so, it was only natural," said the old lady. "However, if

-you ask Carnaby, and if the picture has no great value, I am sure he

-will wish you to have it, especially if you know it to have been your

-mother's property." Here Carnaby sauntered into the room. "That's all

-right, grandmother," he said, "I heard what you were saying; only I

-wish it was a real Sir Joshua we were giving Cousin Robin instead of a

-copy!"

-

-"Thank you, Carnaby dear, and thank you, too, Aunt de Tracy. You can't

-think how much it is to me to have this; it is a precious link between

-mother's girlhood, and mother, and me." So saying, she dropped a timid

-kiss upon Mrs. de Tracy's iron-grey hair, and left the room.

-

-"If she could live in England long enough to get over that excessive

-freedom of manner, your cousin would be quite a pleasing person, but I

-am afraid it goes too deep to be cured," Mrs. de Tracy remarked as she

-smoothed the hairs that might have been ruffled by Robinette's kiss.

-

-Carnaby made no reply. He was looking out into the garden and feeling

-half a boy, half a man, but wholly, though not very contentedly, a

-kinsman.

-

-

-

-

-XI

-

-THE SANDS AT WESTON

-

-

-"Thursday morning? Is it possible that this is Thursday morning? And I

-must run up to London on Saturday," said Lavendar to himself as he

-finished dressing by the open window. He looked up the day of the week

-in his calendar first, in order to make quite sure of the fact. Yes,

-there was no doubt at all that it was Thursday. His sense of time must

-have suffered some strange confusion; in one way it seemed only an

-hour ago that he had arrived from the clangour and darkness of London

-to the silence of the country, the cuckoos calling across the river

-between the wooded hills, and the April sunshine on the orchard trees;

-in another, years might have passed since the moment when he first saw

-Robinette Loring sitting under Mrs. Prettyman's plum tree.

-

-"Eight days have we spent together in this house, and yet since that

-time when we first crossed in the boat, I've never been more than half

-an hour alone with her," he thought. "There are only three other

-people in the house after all, but they seem to have the power of

-multiplying themselves like the loaves and fishes (only when they're

-not wanted) so that we're eternally in a crowd. That boy particularly!

-I like Carnaby, if he could get it into his thick head that his

-presence isn't always necessary; it must bother Mrs. Loring too; he's

-quite off his head about her if she only knew it. However, it's my

-last day very likely, and if I have to outwit Machiavelli I'll manage

-it somehow! Surely one lame old woman, and a torpid machine for

-knitting and writing notes like Miss Smeardon, can't want to be out of

-doors all day. Hang that boy, though! He'll come anywhere." Here he

-stopped and sat down suddenly at the dressing-table, covering his face

-with his hands in comic despair. "Mrs. Loring can't like it! She must

-be doing it on purpose, avoiding being alone with me because she sees

-I admire her," he sighed. "After all why should I ever suppose that I

-interest her as much as she does me?"

-

-No one could have told from Lavendar's face, when he appeared fresh

-and smiling at the breakfast table half an hour later, that he was

-hatching any deep-laid schemes.

-

-Robinette entered the dining room five minutes late, as usual, pretty

-as a pink, breathless with hurrying. She wore a white dress again,

-with one rose stuck at her waistband, "A little tribute from the

-gardener," she said, as she noticed Lavendar glance at it. She went

-rapidly around the table shaking hands, and gave Carnaby's red cheeks

-a pinch in passing that made Lavendar long to tweak the boy's ear.

-

-"Good morning, all!" she said cheerily, "and how is my first cousin

-once removed? Is he going to Weston with me this morning to buy

-hairpins?"

-

-"He is!" Carnaby answered joyfully, between mouthfuls of bacon and

-eggs. "He has been out of hairpins for a week."

-

-"Does he need tapes and buttons also?" asked Robinette, taking the

-piece of muffin from his hand and buttering it for herself; an act

-highly disapproved of by Mrs. de Tracy, who hurriedly requested Bates

-to pass the bread.

-

-"He needs everything you need," Carnaby said with heightened colour.

-

-"My hair is giving me a good deal of trouble, lately," remarked

-Lavendar, passing his hand over a thickly thatched head.

-

-"I have an excellent American tonic that I will give you after

-breakfast," said Robinette roguishly. "You need to apply it with a

-brush at ten, eleven, and twelve o'clock, sitting in the sun

-continuously between those hours so that the scalp may be well

-invigorated. Carnaby, will you buy me butter scotch and lemonade and

-oranges in Weston?"

-

-"I will, if Grandmother'll increase my allowance," said Carnaby

-malevolently, "for I need every penny I've got in hand for the

-hairpins."

-

-"I hope you are not hungry, Robinetta," said Mrs. de Tracy, "that you

-have to buy food in Weston."

-

-"No, indeed," said Robinette, "I was only longing to test Carnaby's

-generosity and educate him in buying trifles for pretty ladies."

-

-"He can probably be relied on to educate himself in that line when the

-time comes," Mrs. de Tracy remarked; "and now if you have all finished

-talking about hair, I will take up my breakfast again."

-

-"Oh, Aunt de Tracy, I am so sorry if it wasn't a nice subject, but I

-never thought. Anyway I only talked about hairpins; it was Mr.

-Lavendar who introduced hair into the conversation; wasn't it, Middy

-dear?"

-

-Lavendar thought he could have annihilated them both for their open

-comradeship, their obvious delight in each other's society. Was he to

-be put on the shelf like a dry old bachelor? Not he! He would

-circumvent them in some way or another, although the rôle of

-gooseberry was new to him.

-

-The two young people set off in high spirits, and Mrs. de Tracy and

-Miss Smeardon watched them as they walked down the avenue on their way

-to the station, their clasped hands swinging in a merry rhythm as they

-hummed a bit of the last popular song.

-

-"I hope Robinetta will not Americanize Carnaby," said Mrs. de Tracy.

-"He seems so foolishly elated, so feverishly gay all at once. Her

-manner is too informal; Carnaby requires constant repression."

-

-"Perhaps his temperature has not returned to normal since his attack

-of quinsy," Miss Smeardon observed, reassuringly.

-

-Meanwhile Lavendar sat in Admiral de Tracy's old smoking room for half

-an hour writing letters. Every time that he glanced up from his work,

-and he did so pretty often, his eyes fell on a picture that hung upon

-the opposite wall. It was the copy of Sir Joshua's "Robinetta" made

-long ago and just presented to its namesake.

-

-In the portrait the girl's hair was a still brighter gold; yet

-certainly there was a likeness somewhere about it, he thought; partly

-in the expression, partly in the broad low forehead, and the eyes that

-looked as if they were seeing fairies.

-

-Of course to his mind Mrs. Loring was a hundred times more lovely than

-Sir Joshua's famous girl with a robin. He felt very ill-used because

-Robinette and Carnaby had deliberately gone for an excursion without

-him and had left him toiling over business papers when they had gone

-off to enjoy themselves.

-

-How bright it was out there in the sunshine, to be sure! And why

-should it be Carnaby, not he, who was by this time walking along the

-sea front of Weston, and watching the breeze flutter Robinette's scarf

-and bring a brighter colour to her lips?

-

-There! the last words were written, and taking up his bunch of

-letters, watch in hand, he sought Mrs. de Tracy, and explained that he

-would bicycle to Weston and catch the London post himself.

-

-"I'll send William"--she began; but Lavendar hastily assured her that

-he should enjoy the ride, and hurried off in triumph. Miss Smeardon

-smiled an acid smile as she watched him go. "He has forgotten all

-about poor Miss Meredith, I suppose," she murmured. "Yet it was not so

-long ago that they were supposed to be all in all to each other!"

-

-"It was a foolish engagement, Miss Smeardon," said Mrs. de Tracy in a

-cold voice. "I never thought the girl was suited to Mark, and I

-understand that old Mr. Lavendar was relieved when the whole thing

-came to an end."

-

-"Quite so; certainly; no doubt Miss Meredith would never have made him

-happy," said Miss Smeardon at once, "though it is always more

-agreeable when the lady discovers the fact first. In this case she

-confessed openly that Mr. Lavendar broke her heart with his

-indifference."

-

-"She was an ill-bred young woman," said Mrs. de Tracy, as if the

-subject were now closed. "However, I hope that the son of my family

-solicitor would think it only proper to pay a certain amount of

-attention to the Admiral's niece, were she ever so obnoxious to him."

-

-Miss Smeardon made no audible reply, but her thoughts were to the

-effect that never was an obnoxious duty performed by any man with a

-better grace.

-

-The sea front at Weston was the most prosaic scene in the world, a

-long esplanade with an asphalt path running its full length, and ugly

-jerrybuilt houses glaring out upon it, a gimcrack pier with a

-gingerbread sort of band-stand and glass house at the end;--all that

-could have been done to ruin nature had been determinedly done there.

-But you cannot ruin a spring day, nor youth, nor the colour of the

-sea. Along the level shore, the placid waves swept and broke, and then

-gathered up their white skirts, and retreated to return with the same

-musical laugh. Children and dogs played about on the wet sands. The

-wind blew freshly and the sea stretched all one pure blue, till it met

-on the horizon with the bluer skies.

-

-Weston seemed to Lavendar a very fresh and delightful spot at

-that moment, although had he been in a different mood its sordidness

-only would have struck him. Yes, there they were in the distance;

-he knew Robinette's white dress and the figure of the boy beside

-her. Hang that boy! Were they really going to buy hairpins? If

-so, then a hair-dresser's he must find. Lavendar turned up the

-little street that led from the sea-front, scanning all the

-signs--Boots--Dairies--Vegetable shops--Heavens! were there

-nothing but vegetable and boot shops in Weston? Boots again. At last

-a Hairdresser; Lavendar stood in the doorway until he made sure

-that Robinette and the middy had turned in that direction, and

-then he boldly entered the shop.

-

-To his horror he found himself confronted by a smiling young woman,

-whose own very marvellous erection of hair made him think she must be

-used as an advertisement for the goods she supplied.

-

-In another moment Robinette and the boy would be upon him, and he must

-be found deep in fictitious business. He cast one agonized glance at

-the mysteries of the toilet that surrounded him on every side, then

-clearing his throat, he said modestly but firmly, that he wanted to

-buy a pair of curling tongs for a lady.

-

-"These are the thing if you wish a Marcel wave," was the reply, "but

-just for an ordinary crimp we sell a good many of the plain ones."

-

-"Yes, thank you. They will do; the lady--my sister, also wished--"

-

-"A little 'addition,' was it, sir?" she moved smilingly to a drawer.

-"A few pin curls are very easily adjusted, or would our guinea

-switch--"

-

-At this moment the boy and Robinette entered the shop. Lavendar was

-paying for the curling tongs, and not a muscle of his face relaxed.

-"Oh, here you are. I have just finished my business," he said, turning

-round, "I thought we might encounter one another somewhere!"

-

-Robinette and Carnaby exchanged knowing glances of which Lavendar was

-perfectly conscious, but he stood by while Mrs. Loring bought her

-hairpins, and Carnaby endeavoured to persuade her to invest in a few

-"pin curls." "Not an hour before it is absolutely necessary, Middy

-dear," she said; "then I shall bear it as bravely as I can. Come now,

-carry the hairpins for me, and let me take Mr. Lavendar out of this

-shop, or he will be tempted to buy more than he needs."

-

-"Oh, no!" Lavendar remarked pointedly. "I have what I came for!"

-

-"Don't forget your parcel," Carnaby exclaimed, darting after Lavendar

-as they went into the street. "You've left it on the counter."

-

-"How careless!" said Mark. "It was for my sister."

-

-"You never told me you had a sister," said Robinette, as they walked

-together, Lavendar wheeling his bicycle and Carnaby sulking behind

-them.

-

-"I am blessed with two; one married now; the other, my sister Amy,

-lives at home."

-

-"Well, you see, in spite of all our questions the first time we met,

-we really know very little about each other," she went on lightly. "It

-takes such a long time to get thoroughly acquainted in this country.

-Do they ever count you a friend if you do not know all their aunts and

-second cousins?"

-

-Lavendar laughed. "Willingly would I introduce you to my aunts and my

-uttermost cousins, and lay the map of my life before you, uneventful

-as it has been, if that would further our acquaintance."

-

-Even as he spoke a hateful memory darted into his thoughts, and he

-reddened to his temples, until Mrs. Loring wondered if she had said

-anything to annoy him.

-

-Some fortunate accident at this point ordered that Carnaby should

-meet a friend, another middy about his own age, and they set off

-together in quest of a third boy who was supposed to be in the near

-neighbourhood.

-

-As soon as the lads were out of sight Lavendar found the jests they

-had been bandying together die on his lips. "I'm going down deeper; I

-shall be out of my depth very soon," he thought to himself, as he

-walked in silence by Robinette's side.

-

-"Let us come down to the beach again; we can't go to the station for

-half an hour yet," she said. "I like to look out to sea, and realize

-that if I sailed long enough I could step off that pier, and arrive in

-America."

-

-They stood by the sea-wall together with the fresh wind playing on

-their faces. "Isn't it curious," said Robinette, "how instinctively

-one always turns to look at the sea; inland may be ever so lovely, but

-if the sea is there we generally look in that direction."

-

-"Because it is unbounded, like the future," said Lavendar. He was

-looking as he spoke at some children playing on the sands just

-beside them. There was a gallant little boy among them with a bare

-curly head, who refused help from older sisters and was toiling away

-at his sand castle, his whole soul in his work; throwing up

-spadefuls--tremendous ones for four years old--upon its ramparts,

-as if certain they could resist the advancing tide.

-

-"What a noble little fellow!" exclaimed Robinette, catching the

-direction of Lavendar's glance. "Isn't he splendid? toiling like that;

-stumping about on those fat brown legs!"

-

-"How beautiful to have a child like that, of one's own!" thought

-Lavendar as he looked. On the sands around them, there were numbers of

-such children playing there in the sun. It seemed a happy world to him

-at the moment.

-

-Suddenly he saw his companion turn quickly aside; a nurse in uniform

-came towards them pushing, not a happy crooning baby this time, but a

-little emaciated wisp of a child lying back wearily in a wheel chair.

-Something in Robinette's face, or perhaps the bit of fluttering lace

-she wore upon her white dress, had attracted its notice, and it

-stretched out two tiny skeleton hands towards her as it passed. With a

-quick gesture, brushing tears away that in a moment had rushed to her

-eyes, young Mrs. Loring stepped forward, and put her fingers into the

-wasted hands that were held out to her. She hung above the child for a

-moment, a radiant figure, her face shining with sympathy and a sort of

-heavenly kindness; her eyes the sweeter for their tears.

-

-"What is it, darling?" she asked. "Oh, it's the bright rose!" Then she

-hurriedly unfastened the flower from her waist-belt and turned to

-Lavendar. "Will you please take your penknife and scrape away all the

-little thorns," she asked.

-

-"The rose looked very charming where it was," he remarked, half

-regretfully, as he did what she commanded.

-

-"It will look better still, presently," she answered.

-

-The child's hands were outstretched longingly to grasp the flower, its

-eyes, unnaturally deep and wise with pain, were fixed upon Robinette's

-face. She bent over the chair, and her voice was like a dove's voice,

-Lavendar thought, as she spoke. Then the little melancholy carriage

-was wheeled away. Motherhood always seemed the most sacred, the

-supreme experience to Robinette; a thing high and beautiful like the

-topmost blooms of Nurse Prettyman's plum tree. "If one had to choose

-between that sturdy boy and this wistful wraith, it would be hard,"

-she thought. "All my pride would run out to the boy, but I could die

-for love and pity if this suffering baby were mine!"

-

-Lavendar had turned, and leaned on the wall with averted face. "Sweet

-woman!" he was saying to himself. "It is more than a merry heart that

-is able to give such sympathy; it's a sad old world after all where

-such things can be; but a woman like that can bring good out of

-evil."

-

-Robinette had seated herself on a low wall beside him. Her little

-embroidered futility of a handkerchief was in her hand once more. "A

-rose and a smile! that's all we could give it," she said; "and we

-would either of us share some of that burden if we only could." She

-watched the merry, healthy children playing beside them, and added,

-"After all let us comfort ourselves that brown cheeks and fat legs are

-in the majority. Rightness somehow or other must be at the root of

-things, or we shouldn't be a living world at all."

-

-"Amen," said Lavendar, "but the sight of suffering innocents like

-that, sometimes makes me wish I were dead."

-

-"Dead!" she echoed. "Why, it makes me wish for a hundred lives, a

-hundred hearts and hands to feel with and help with."

-

-"Ah, some women are made that way. My stepmother, the only mother I've

-known, was like that," Lavendar went on, dropping suddenly again into

-personal talk, as they had done before. He and she, it seemed, could

-not keep barriers between them very long; every hour they spent

-together brought them more strangely into knowledge of each other's

-past.

-

-"She was a fine woman," he went on, "with a certain comfortable

-breadth about her, of mind and body; and those large, warm, capable

-hands that seem so fitted to lift burdens."

-

-Lavendar was in an absent-minded mood, and never much given to noting

-details at any time. He bent over on the low wall in retrospective

-silence, looking at the blue sea before them.

-

-Robinette, who was perched beside him, spread her two small hands on

-her white serge knees and regarded them fixedly for a moment.

-

-"I wonder if it's a matter of size," she said after a moment. "I

-wonder! Let's be confidential. When I was a little girl we were not at

-all well-to-do, and my hands were very busy. My father's success came

-to him only two or three years before his death, when his reputation

-began to grow and his plans for great public buildings began to be

-accepted, so I was my mother's helper. We had but one servant, and I

-learned to make beds, to dust, to wipe dishes, to make tea and coffee,

-and to cook simple dishes. If Admiral de Tracy's sister had to work,

-Admiral de Tracy's niece was certainly going to help! Later on came my

-father's illness and death. We had plenty of servants then, but my

-hands had learned to be busy. I gave him his medicines, I changed his

-pillows, I opened his letters and answered such of them as were within

-my powers, I fanned him, I stroked his aching head. The end came, and

-mother and I had hardly begun to take hold of life again when her

-health failed. I wasn't enough for her; she needed father and her face

-was bent towards him. My hands were busy again for months, and they

-held my mother's when she died. Time went on. Then I began again to

-make a home out of a house; to use my strength and time as a good wife

-should, for the comfort of her husband; but oh! so faultily, for I was

-all too young and inexperienced. It was only for a few months, then

-death came into my life for the third time, and I was less than

-twenty. For the first time since I can remember, my hands are idle,

-but it will not be for long. I want them to be busy always. I want

-them to be full! I want them to be tired! I want them ready to do the

-tasks my head and heart suggest."

-

-Lavendar had a strong desire to take those same hands in his and kiss

-them, but instead he rose and spread out his own long brown fingers on

-the edge of the wall, a man's hands, fine and supple, but meant to

-work.

-

-"I seem to have done nothing," he exclaimed. "You look so young, so

-irresponsible, so like a bird on a bough, that I cannot associate dull

-care with you, yet you have lived more deeply than I. Life seems to

-have touched me on the shoulder and passed me by; these hands of mine

-have never done a real day's work, Mrs. Loring, for they've been the

-servants of an unwilling brain. I hated my own work as a younger man,

-and, though I hope I did not shirk it, I certainly did nothing that I

-could avoid." He paused, and went on slowly, "I've thought sometimes,

-of late I mean, that if life is to be worth much, if it is to be real

-life, and not mere existence, one must put one's whole heart into it,

-and that two people--" He stopped; he was silent with embarrassment,

-conscious of having said too much.

-

-"Can help each other. Indeed they can," Mrs. Loring went on serenely,

-"if they have the same ideals. Hardly anyone, fortunately, is so alone

-as I, and so I have to help myself! Your sisters, now; don't they

-help?"

-

-"Not a great deal," Lavendar confessed. "One would, but she's married

-and in India, worse luck! The other is--well, she's a candid sister."

-He laughed, and looked up. "If my best friend could hear my sister

-Amy's view of me, just have a little sketch of me by Amy without fear

-or favour, he, or she, would never have a very high opinion of me

-again, and I am not sure but that I should agree with her."

-

-"Nonsense! my dear friend," exclaimed Robinette in a maternal tone she

-sometimes affected,--a tone fairly agonizing to Mark Lavendar; "we

-should never belittle the stuff that's been put into us! My equipment

-isn't particularly large, but I am going to squeeze every ounce of

-power from it before I die."

-

-"Life is extraordinarily interesting to you, isn't it?"

-

-"Interesting? It is thrilling! So will it be to you when you make up

-your mind to squeeze it," said Robinette, jumping off the wall. "There

-is Carnaby signalling; it is time we went to the station."

-

-"Life would thrill me considerably more if Carnaby were not eternally

-in evidence," said Lavendar, but Robinette pretended not to hear.

-

-

-

-

-XII

-

-LOVE IN THE MUD

-

-

-The next day Robinette was once more sitting in the boat opposite to

-Lavendar as he rowed. They were going down the river this time, not

-across it. Somehow they had managed that afternoon to get out by

-themselves, which sounds very simple, but is a wonderfully difficult

-thing to accomplish when there is no special reason for it, and when

-there are several other people in the house.

-

-Fortunately Mrs. de Tracy did not like to be alone, so that wherever

-she went Miss Smeardon had to go too, and there happened to be a sale

-of work at a neighbouring vicarage that afternoon where she considered

-her presence a necessity. Robinette had vanished soon after luncheon

-and the middy had been dull, so after loitering around for a while, he

-too had disappeared upon some errand of his own. Lavendar walked very

-slowly toward the avenue gateway, then he turned and came back. He

-could scarcely believe his good fortune when he saw Mrs. Loring come

-out of the house, and pause at the door as if uncertain of her next

-movements. She looked uncommonly lovely in a white frock with touches

-of blue, while the ribbon in her hair brought out all its gold. She

-wore a flowery garden hat, and a pair of dainty most un-English shoes

-peeped from beneath her short skirt.

-

-"Are you going out, or can I take you on the river?" Lavendar asked,

-trying without much success to conceal the eagerness that showed in

-his voice and eyes.

-

-Robinette stood for a moment looking at him (it seemed as if she read

-him like a book) and then she said frankly, "Why yes, there is nothing

-I should like so much, but where is Carnaby?"

-

-"Hang Carnaby! I mean I don't know, or care. I've had too much of his

-society to-day to be pining for it now."

-

-"Well, he does chatter like a magpie, but I feel he must have such a

-dull time here with no one anywhere near his own age. Elderly as I am,

-I seem a bit nearer than Aunt de Tracy or Miss Smeardon. Aunt de

-Tracy, all the same, will never understand my relations with that boy,

-or with anyone else for that matter. I did try so hard," she went on,

-"when I first arrived, just to strike the right note with her, and

-I've missed it all the time, by that very fact, no doubt. I'm so

-unused to trying--at home."

-

-"You mean in America?"

-

-"Yes, of course; I don't try there at all, and yet my friends seem to

-understand me."

-

-"Does it seem to you that you could ever call England 'home'?"

-

-"I could not have believed that England would so sink into my heart,"

-she said, sitting down in the doorway and arranging the flowers on her

-hat. "During those first dull wet days when I was still a stranger,

-and when I looked out all the time at the dripping cedars, and felt

-whenever I opened my lips that I said the wrong thing, it seemed to me

-I should never be gay for an hour in this country; but the last

-enchanting sunny days have changed all that. I remember it's my

-mother's country, and if only I could have found a little affection

-waiting for me, all would have been perfect."

-

-"You may find it yet." Lavendar could not for the life of him help

-saying the words, but there was nothing in the tone in which he said

-them to make Robinette conscious of his meaning.

-

-"I'm afraid not," she sighed, thinking of Mrs. de Tracy's indifference.

-"I'm much more American than English, much more my father's daughter

-than the Admiral's niece; perhaps my aunt feels that instinctively. Now

-I must slip upstairs and change if we are going boating."

-

-"Never!" cried Lavendar. "If I don't snatch you this moment from the

-devouring crowd I shall lose you! I will keep you safe and dry, never

-fear, and we shall be back well before dark."

-

-They went down the river after leaving the little pier, passing the

-orchards heaped on the hillsides above Wittisham, and Lavendar wanted

-to row out to sea, but Robinette preferred the river; so he rowed

-nearer to the shore, where the current was less swift, and the boat

-rocked and drifted with scarcely a touch of the oars. They had talked

-for some time, and then a silence had fallen, which Robinette broke by

-saying, "I half wish you'd forsake the law and follow lines of lesser

-resistance, Mr. Lavendar. Do you know, you seem to me to be drifting,

-not rowing! I've been thinking ever since of what you said to me on

-the sands at Weston."

-

-"Ungrateful woman!" he exclaimed, trying to evade the subject, "when

-these two faithful arms have been at your service every day since we

-first met! Think of the pennies you would have taken from that tiny

-gold purse of yours for the public ferry! However, I know what you

-mean; I never met anyone so plain-spoken as you, Mrs. Robin; I haven't

-forgotten, I assure you!"

-

-"How about the candid sister? Isn't she plain-spoken?"

-

-"Oh, she attacks the outside of the cup and platter; you question

-motive power and ideals. Well, I confess I have less of the former

-than I ought, and more of the latter than I've ever used." Lavendar

-had rested on his oars now and was looking down, so that the twinkle

-of his eyes was lost. "I suppose I shall go on as I have done

-hitherto, doing my work in a sort of a way, and getting a certain

-amount of pleasure out of things,--unless--"

-

-"Oh, but that's not living!" she exclaimed; "that's only existing.

-Don't you remember:--

-

-                   It is not growing like a tree

-                   In bulk doth make man better be.

-

-It's really _living_ I mean, forgetting the things that are behind,

-and going on and on to something ahead, whatever one's aim may be."

-

-"What are you going to do with yourself, if I may ask?" said Lavendar.

-"Don't be too philanthropic, will you? You're so delightfully

-symmetrical now!"

-

-"I shall have plenty to do," cried Robinette ardently. "I've told you

-before, I have so much motive power that I don't know how to use it."

-

-"How about sharing a little of it with a friend!"

-

-Lavendar's voice was full of meaning, but Robinette refused to hear

-it. She had succumbed as quickly to his charm as he to hers, but while

-she still had command over her heart she did not intend parting with

-it unless she could give it wholly. She knew enough of her own nature

-to recognize that she longed for a rowing, not a drifting mate, and

-that nothing else would content her; but her instinct urged that

-Lavendar's indecisions and his uncertainties of aim were accidents

-rather than temperamental weaknesses. She suspected that his

-introspective moods and his occasional lack of spirits had a definite

-cause unknown to her.

-

-"I haven't a large income," she said, after a moment's silence,

-changing the subject arbitrarily, and thereby reducing her companion

-to a temporary state of silent rage.

-

-"Yet no one would expect a woman like this to fall like a ripe plum

-into a man's mouth," he thought presently; "she will drop only when

-she has quite made up her mind, and the bough will need a good deal of

-shaking!"

-

-"I haven't a large income," repeated Robinette, while Lavendar was

-silent, "only five thousand dollars a year, which is of course

-microscopic from the American standpoint and cost of living; so I

-can't build free libraries and swimming baths and playgrounds, or do

-any big splendid things; but I can do dear little nice ones, left

-undone by city governments and by the millionaires. I can sing, and

-read, and study; I can travel; and there are always people needing

-something wherever you are, if you have eyes to see them; one needn't

-live a useless life even if one hasn't any responsibilities. But"--she

-paused--"I've been talking all this time about my own plans and

-ambitions, and I began by asking yours! Isn't it strange that the

-moment one feels conscious of friendship, one begins to want to know

-things?"

-

-"My sister Amy would tell you I had no ambitions, except to buy as

-many books as I wish, and not to have to work too hard," said Mark

-smiling, "but I think that would not be quite true. I have some, of a

-dull inferior kind, not beautiful ones like yours."

-

-"Do tell me what they are."

-

-He shook his head. "I couldn't; they're not for show; shabby things

-like unsuccessful poor relations, who would rather not have too much

-notice taken of them. In a few weeks I am going to drag them out of

-their retreat, brighten them up, inject some poetry into their veins,

-and then display them to your critical judgment."

-

-They were almost at a standstill now and neither of them was noticing

-it at all. As Mrs. Loring moved her seat the boat lurched somewhat to

-one side. Mark, to steady her, placed his hand over hers as it rested

-on the rail, and she did not withdraw it. Then he found the other hand

-that lay upon her knee, and took it in his own, scarcely knowing what

-he did. He looked into her face and found no anger there. "I wish to

-tell you more about myself," he stammered, "something not altogether

-creditable to me; but perhaps you will understand. Perhaps even if you

-don't understand you will forgive."

-

-She drew her hands gently away from his grasp. "I shall try to

-understand, you may rely on that!" she said.

-

-"I'm not going to trouble you with any very dreadful confessions," he

-said, "only it's better to hear things directly from the people

-concerned, and you are sure to hear a wrong version sooner or

-later."--Then stopping suddenly he exclaimed, "Hullo! we're stuck, I

-declare! look at that!"

-

-Robinette turned and saw that their boat was now scarcely surrounded

-with water at all. On every side, as if the flanks of some great whale

-were upheaving from below, there appeared stretches of glistening mud.

-Just in front of them, where there still was a channel of water, was

-an upstanding rock. "Shall we row quickly there?" she cried. "Then

-perhaps we can get out and pull the boat to the other side, where

-there is more water. What has happened?"

-

-"Oh, something not unusual," said Lavendar grimly, "that I'm a fool,

-and the sea-tide has ebbed, as tides have been known to do before. I'm

-afraid a man doesn't watch tides when he has a companion like you! Now

-we're left high, but not at all dry, as you see, till the tide

-turns."

-

-By a swift stroke or two he managed to propel their craft as far as

-the rock. They scrambled up on it, and then he tried to haul the boat

-around the miniature islet; but the more he hauled, the quicker the

-water seemed to run away, and the deeper the wretched thing stuck in

-the mud. He jumped in again, and made an effort to push her off with

-an oar; meanwhile Robinette nearly fell off the rock in her efforts to

-get the head of the boat around towards the current again, and making

-a frantic plunge into the ooze, sank above her ankles in an instant.

-Lavendar caught hold of her and helped her to scramble back into the

-boat. "It's all right; only my skirt wet, and one shoe gone!" she

-panted. "Now, what are we to do?" She spread out her hands in dismay,

-and looked down at her draggled mud-stained skirt, her little feet,

-one shoeless and both covered with mud and slime. "What an object I

-shall be to meet Aunt de Tracy's eye, when, if ever, it does light on

-me again! Meanwhile it seems as if we might be here for some hours.

-The boat is just settling herself into the mud bank, like a rather

-tired fat old woman into an armchair, and pray, Mr. Lavendar, what do

-you propose to do? as Talleyrand said to the lady who told him she

-couldn't bear it."

-

-Lavendar looked about them; the main bed of the river was fifty yards

-away; between it and them was now only an expanse of mud.

-

-"It's perfectly hopeless," he said, "the best thing we can do is to

-beget some philosophy."

-

-"Which at any moment we would exchange for a foot of water," she

-interpolated.

-

-"We must just sit here and wait for the tide. Shall it be in the boat

-or on the rock?"

-

-"I don't see much difference, do you? Except that the passing boats,

-if there are any, might think it was a matter of choice to sit on a

-damp rock for two hours, but no one could think we wanted to sit in a

-boat in the mud."

-

-They landed on the rock for the second time. "For my part it's no

-great punishment," said Lavendar, when they settled themselves, "since

-the place is big enough for two and you're one of them!"

-

-"Wouldn't this be as good a stool of repentance from which to confess

-your faults as any?" asked Robinette, as she tucked her shoeless foot

-beneath her mud-stained skirt and made herself as comfortable as

-possible. "I'll even offer a return of confidence upon my own

-weaknesses, if I can find them, but at present only miles of virtue

-stretch behind me. Ugh! How the mud smells; quite penitential! Now:--

-

-            "What have you sought you should have shunned,

-            And into what new follies run?"

-

-"Oh, what a bad rhyme!" said Lavendar.

-

-"It's Pythagoras, any way," she explained.

-

-Then suddenly changing his tone, Lavendar went on. "This is not merely

-a jest, Mrs. Loring. Before you admit me really amongst the number of

-your friends I should like you to know that--to put it plainly--my

-own little world would tell you at the moment that I am a heartless

-jilt."

-

-"That is a very ugly expression, Mr. Lavendar, and I shall choose not

-to believe it, until you give me your own version of the story."

-

-"In one way I can give you no other; except that I was just fool

-enough to drift into an engagement with a woman whom I did not really

-love, and just not enough of a fool to make both of us miserable for

-life when I, all too late, found out my mistake."

-

-There passed before him at that moment other foolish blithe little

-loves, like faded flowers with the sweetness gone out of them. They

-had been so innocent, so fragile, so free from blame; all but the

-last; and this last it was that threatened to rise like a shadow

-perhaps, and defeat his winning the only woman he could ever love.

-

-Robinette stared at the stretches of ooze, and then stole a look at

-Mark Lavendar. "The idea of calling that man a jilt," she thought.

-"Look at his eyes; look at his mouth; listen to his voice; there is

-truth in them all. Oh for a sight of the girl he jilted! How much it

-would explain! No, not altogether, because the careless making of his

-engagement would have to be accounted for, as well as the breaking of

-it. Unless he did it merely to oblige her--and men are such idiots

-sometimes,--then he must have fancied he was in love with her. Perhaps

-he is continually troubled with those fancies. Nonsense! you believe

-in him, and you know you do." Then aloud she said, sympathetically,

-"I'm afraid we are apt to make these little experimental journeys in

-youth, when the heart is full of _wanderlust_. We start out on them so

-lightly, then they lead nowhere, and the walking back alone is

-wearisome and depressing."

-

-"My return journey was depressing enough at first," said Lavendar,

-"because the particular She was unkinder to me than I deserved even;

-but better counsels have prevailed and I shall soon be able to meet

-the reproachful gaze of stout matrons and sour spinsters more easily

-than I have for a year past; you see the two families were friends and

-each family had a large and interested connection!"

-

-"If the opinion of a comparative stranger is of any use to you," said

-Robinette, standing on the rock and scraping her stockinged foot free

-of mud, "_I_ believe in you, personally! You don't seem a bit 'jilty'

-to me! I'd let you marry my sister to-morrow and no questions asked!"

-

-"I didn't know you had a sister," cried Lavendar.

-

-"I haven't; that's only a figure of speech; just a phrase to show my

-confidence."

-

-"And isn't it ungrateful to be obliged to say I can't marry your

-sister, after you have given me permission to ask her!"

-

-"Not only ungrateful but unreasonable," said Robinette saucily,

-turning her head to look up the river and discovering from her point

-of vantage a moving object around the curve that led her to make

-hazardous remarks, knowing rescue was not far away. "What have you

-against my sister, pray?"

-

-"Very little!" he said daringly, knowing well that she held him in her

-hand, and could make him dumb or let him speak at any moment she

-desired. "Almost nothing! only that _she_ is not offering me _her_

-sister as a balm to my woes."

-

-"She _has_ no sister; she is an only child!--There! there!" cried

-Robinette, "the tide is coming up again, and the mud banks off in that

-direction are all covered with water! I see somebody in a boat, rowing

-towards us with superhuman energy. Oh! if I hadn't worn a white dress!

-It will _not_ come smooth; and my lovely French hat is ruined by the

-dampness! My one shoe shows how inappropriately I was shod, and

-whoever is coming will say it is because I am an American. He will

-never know you wouldn't let me go upstairs and dress properly."

-

-"It doesn't matter anyway," rejoined Mark, "because it is only Carnaby

-coming. You might know he would find us even if we were at the bottom

-of the river."

-

-

-

-

-XIII

-

-CARNABY TO THE RESCUE

-

-

-At Stoke Revel, in the meantime, the solemn rites of dinner had been

-inaugurated as usual by the sounding of the gong at seven o'clock.

-Mrs. de Tracy, Miss Smeardon, and Bates waited five minutes in silent

-resignation, then Carnaby came down and was scolded for being late,

-but there was no Robinette and no Lavendar.

-

-"Carnaby," said his grandmother, "do you know where Mark intended

-going this afternoon?"

-

-"No, I don't," said Carnaby, sulkily.

-

-"Your cousin Robinetta,"--with meaning,--"perhaps you know her

-whereabouts?"

-

-"Not I!" replied Carnaby with affected nonchalance. "I was ferreting

-with Wilson." He had ferreted perhaps for fifteen minutes and then

-spent the rest of the afternoon in solitary discontent, but he would

-not have owned it for the world.

-

-"Call Bates," commanded Mrs. de Tracy. Bates entered. "Do you know if

-Mr. Lavendar intended going any distance to-day? Did he leave any

-message?"

-

-"Mr. Lavendar, ma'am," said Bates, "Mr. Lavendar and Mrs. Loring they

-went out in the boat after tea. Mr. Lavendar asked William for the

-key, and William he went down and got out the oars and rudder,

-ma'am."

-

-"Does William know where they went?" asked Mrs. de Tracy in high

-displeasure. "Was it to Wittisham?"

-

-"No, ma'am, William says they went down stream. He thinks perhaps they

-were going to the Flag Rock, and he says the gentleman wouldn't have a

-hard pull, as the tide was going out. But Mr. Lavendar knows the river

-well, ma'am, as well as Mr. Carnaby here."

-

-"Then I conclude there is no immediate cause for anxiety," said Mrs.

-de Tracy with satire. "You can serve dinner, Bates; there seems no

-reason why we should fast as yet! However, Carnaby," she continued,

-"as the men cannot be spared at this hour, you had better go at once

-and see what has happened to our guests."

-

-"Right you are," cried Carnaby with the utmost alacrity. He was

-hungry, but the prospect of escape was better than food. He rushed

-away, and his boat was in mid-river before Mrs. de Tracy and Miss

-Smeardon had finished their tepid soup.

-

-A very slim young moon was just rising above the woods, but her tender

-light cast no shadows as yet, and there were no stars in the sky, for

-it was daylight still. The evening air was very fresh and cool; there

-was no wind, and the edges of the river were motionless and smooth,

-although in mid-stream the now in-coming tide clucked and swirled as

-it met the rush. Over at Wittisham one or two lights were beginning to

-twinkle, and there came drifting across the water a smell of wood

-smoke that suggested evening fires. Carnaby handled a boat well, for

-he had been born a sailor, as it were, and his long, powerful strokes

-took him along at a fine pace. But although he was going to look for

-Robinette and Mark, he was rather angry with both of them, and in no

-hurry. He rested on his oars indifferently and let the tide carry him

-up as it liked, while, with infinite zest, he unearthed a cigarette

-case from the recesses of his person, lit a cigarette, and smoked it

-coolly. Under Carnaby's apparent boyishness, there was a certain

-somewhat dangerous quality of precocity, which was stimulated rather

-than checked by his grandmother's repressive system. His smoking now

-was less the monkey-trick of a boy, than an act of slightly cynical

-defiance. He was no novice in the art, and smoked slowly and daintily,

-throwing back his head and blowing the smoke sometimes through his

-lips and sometimes through his nose. He looked for the moment older

-than his years, and a difficult young customer at that. His present

-sulky expression disappeared, however, under the influence of tobacco

-and adventure.

-

-"Where the dickens are they?" he began to wonder, pulling harder.

-

-A bend in the river presently solved the mystery. On a wide stretch of

-mud-bank, which the tide had left bare in going out, but was now

-beginning to cover again, a solitary boat was stranded.

-

-With this clue to guide him, Carnaby's bright eyes soon discovered the

-two dim forms in the distance.

-

-"Ahoy!" he shouted, and received a joyous answer. Robinette and Mark

-were the two derelicts, and their rescuer skimmed towards them with

-all his strength.

-

-He could get only within a few yards of the rock to which their boat

-was tied, and from that distance he surveyed them, expecting to find a

-dismal, ship-wrecked pair, very much ashamed of themselves and

-getting quite weary of each other. On the contrary the faces he could

-just distinguish in the uncertain light, were radiant, and Robinette's

-voice was as gay as ever he had heard it. He leaned upon his oars and

-looked at them with wonder.

-

-"Angel cousin!" cried Robinette. "Have you a little roast mutton about

-you somewhere, we are so hungry!"

-

-"You _are_ a pretty pair!" he remarked. "What have you been and

-done?"

-

-"We just went for a row after tea, Middy dear," said Robinette, "and

-look at the result."

-

-"You're not rowing now," observed Carnaby pointedly.

-

-"No," said Mark, "we gave up rowing when the water left us, Carnaby.

-Conversation is more interesting in the mud."

-

-"But how did you get here? I thought you were going to the Flag Rock?"

-demanded Carnaby.

-

-"Is there a Flag Rock, Middy dear? I didn't know," said Robinette

-innocently. "It shows we shouldn't go anywhere without our first

-cousin once removed. We just began to talk, here in the boat, and the

-water went away and left us." Then she laughed, and Mark laughed too,

-and Carnaby's look of unutterable scorn seemed to have no effect upon

-them. They might almost have been laughing at him, their mirth was so

-senseless, viewed in any other light.

-

-"It's nearly eight o'clock," he said solemnly. "Perhaps you can form

-some idea as to what grandmother's saying, and Bates."

-

-"Well, you're going to be our rescuer, Middy darling, so it doesn't

-matter," said Robinette. "Look! the water's coming up."

-

-But Carnaby seemed in no mood for waiting. He had taken off his boots,

-and rolled up his trousers above his knees.

-

-"I'd let Lavendar wade ashore the best way he could!" he said, "but I

-s'pose I've got to save you or there'd be a howl."

-

-"No one would howl any louder than you, dear, and you know it. Don't

-step in!" shrieked Robinette, "I've confided a shoe already to the

-river-mud! I just put my foot in a bit, to test it, and down the poor

-foot went and came up without its shoe. Oh, Middy dear, if your young

-life--"

-

-"Blow my young life!" retorted Carnaby. He was performing gymnastics

-on the edge of his boat, letting himself down and heaving himself up,

-by the strength of his arms. His legs were covered with mud.

-

-"No go!" he said. "It's as deep as the pit here; sometimes you can

-find a rock or a hard bit. We must just wait."

-

-They had not long to wait after all, for presently a rush of the tide

-sent the water swirling round the stranded boat, and carried Carnaby's

-craft to it.

-

-"Now it'll be all right," said he. "You push with the boat-hook, Mark,

-and I'll pull"; but it took a quarter of an hour's pushing and pulling

-to get the boat free of the mud.

-

-Except for the moon it would have been quite dark when the party

-reached the pier. They mounted the hill in some silence. It was

-difficult for Robinette to get along with her shoeless foot; Lavendar

-wanted to help her, but she demanded Carnaby's arm. He was sulking

-still. There was something he felt, but could not understand, in the

-subtle atmosphere of happiness by which the truant couple seemed to be

-surrounded; a something through which he could not reach; that seemed

-to put Robinette at a distance from him, although her shoulder touched

-his and her hand was on his arm. Growing pangs of his manhood assailed

-him, the male's jealousy of the other male. For the moment he hated

-Mark; Mark talking joyous nonsense in a way rather unlike himself, as

-if the night air had gone to his head.

-

-"I am glad you had the ferrets to amuse you this afternoon," said

-Robinette, in a propitiatory tone. "Ferrets are such darlings, aren't

-they, with their pink eyes?"

-

-"O! _darlings_," assented Carnaby derisively. "One of the darlings

-bit my finger to the bone, not that that's anything to you."

-

-"Oh! Middy dear, I am sorry!" cried Robinette. "I'd kiss the place to

-make it well, if we weren't in such a hurry!"

-

-Carnaby began to find that a dignified reserve of manner was very

-difficult to keep up. His grandmother could manage it, he reflected,

-but he would need some practice. When they came to a place where there

-were sharp stones strewn on the road, he became a mere boy again quite

-suddenly, and proposed a "queen's chair" for Robinette. And so he and

-Lavendar crossed hands, and one arm of Robinette encircled the boy's

-head, while the other just touched Lavendar's neck enough to be

-steadied by it. Their laughter frightened the sleepy birds that night.

-The demoralized remnant of a Bank Holiday party would have been,

-Lavendar observed, respectability itself in comparison with them; and

-certainly no such group had ever approached Stoke Revel before. They

-were to enter by a back door, and Carnaby was to introduce them to

-the housekeeper's room, where he undertook that Bates would feed them.

-Lavendar alone was to be ambassador to the drawing room.

-

-"The only one of us with a boot on each foot, of course we appoint him

-by a unanimous vote," said Robinette.

-

-But the chief thing that Carnaby remembered, after all, of that

-evening's adventure, was Robinette's sudden impulsive kiss as she bade

-him good-night, Lavendar standing by. She had never kissed him before,

-for all her cousinliness, but she just brushed his cool, round cheek

-to-night as if with a swan's-down puff.

-

-"That's a shabby thing to call a kiss!" said the embarrassed but

-exhilarated youth.

-

-"Stop growling, you young cub, and be grateful; half a loaf is better

-than no bread," was Lavendar's comment as he watched the draggled and

-muddy but still charming Robinette up the stairway.

-

-

-

-

-XIV

-

-THE EMPTY SHRINE

-

-

-Lavendar had discovered, much to his dismay, that he must return to

-London upon important business; it was even a matter of uncertainty

-whether his father could spare him again or would consent to his

-returning to Stoke Revel to conclude Mrs. de Tracy's arrangements

-about the sale of the land.

-

-Affairs of the heart are like thunderstorms; the atmosphere may

-sometimes seem charged with electricity, and yet circumstances, like a

-sudden wind that sweeps the clouds away before they break, may cause

-the lovers to drift apart. Or all in a moment may come thunder,

-lightning, and rain from a clear sky, and there is nothing that is apt

-to precipitate matters like an unexpected parting.

-

-When Lavendar announced that he had to leave Stoke Revel, two pairs

-of eyes, Miss Smeardon's and Carnaby's, instantly looked at Robinette

-to see how she received the news, but she only smiled at the moment.

-She was just beginning her breakfast, and like the famous Charlotte,

-"went on cutting bread and butter," without any sign of emotion.

-

-"Hurrah!" thought the boy. "Now we can have some fun, and I'll perhaps

-make her see that old Lavendar isn't the only companion in the

-world."

-

-"She minds," thought Miss Smeardon, "for she buttered that piece of

-bread on the one side a minute ago, and now she's just done it on the

-other--and eaten it too."

-

-"She doesn't care a bit," thought Lavendar. "She's not even changed

-colour; my going or staying is nothing to her; I needn't come back."

-

-He had made up his mind to return just the same, if it were at all

-possible, and he told Mrs. de Tracy so. She remarked graciously that

-he was a welcome guest at any time, and Carnaby, hearing this,

-pinched Lord Roberts till he howled like a fiend, and fled for comfort

-to his mistress's lap.

-

-"You little coward," said Carnaby, "you should be ashamed to bear the

-name of a hero."

-

-"I've mentioned to you before, Carnaby, I think, that I dislike that

-jest," said his grandmother, and Carnaby advancing to the injured

-beast said, "Yes, ma'am, and so does Bobs, doesn't he, Bobs?" reducing

-the lap-dog to paroxysms of fury. "Would it be any better if I called

-him _Kitchener_?" hissing the word into the animal's face. "Jealous,

-Bobs? Eh? _Kitchener_." This last word had a rasping sound that

-irritated the little creature more than ever; his teeth jibbered with

-anger, and Miss Smeardon had to offer him a saucer of cream before he

-could be calmed down enough for the rest of the party to hear

-themselves speak.

-

-"Had you nice letters this morning? Mine were very uninteresting,"

-Robinette remarked to Lavendar as they stood together at the doorway

-in the sunshine, while Carnaby chased the lap-dog round and round the

-lawn.

-

-"I had only two letters; one was from my sister Amy, the candid one!

-her letters are not generally exhilarating."

-

-"Oh, I know, home letters are usually enough to send one straight to

-bed with a headache! They never sound a note of hope from first to

-last; although if you had no home, but only a house, like me, with no

-one but a caretaker in it, you'd be very thankful to get them, doleful

-or not."

-

-"I doubt it," Mark answered, for Amy's letter seemed to be burning a

-hole in his pocket at that moment. He had skimmed it hurriedly

-through, but parts of it were already only too plain.

-

-When the others had gone into the house, he went off by himself, and

-jumping the low fence that divided the lawn from the fields beyond, he

-flung himself down under a tree to read it over again. Carnaby,

-spying him there, came rushing from the house, and was soon pouring

-out a tale of something that had happened somewhere, and throwing

-stones as he talked, at the birds circling about the ivied tower of

-the little church.

-

-The field was full of buttercups up to the very churchyard walls. "I

-must get away by myself for a bit," Lavendar thought. "That boy's

-chatter will drive me mad." At this point Carnaby's volatile attention

-was diverted by the sight of a gardener mounting a ladder to clear the

-sparrows' nests from the water chutes, and he jumped up in a twinkling

-to take his part in this new joy. Lavendar rose, and strolled off with

-his hands in his pockets and his bare head bent. The grass he walked

-in was a very Field of the Cloth of Gold. His shoes were gilded by the

-pollen from the buttercups, his eyes dazzled by their colour; it was a

-relief to pass through the stone archway that led into the little

-churchyard. To his spirit at that moment the chill was refreshing. He

-loitered about for a few minutes, and then seeing that the door was

-open, he entered the church, closing the door gently behind him.

-

-It was very quiet in there and even the chirping of the sparrows was

-softened into a faint twitter. Here at last was a place set apart, a

-moment of stillness when he might think things out by himself.

-

-He took out Amy's letter, smoothing it flat on the prayer books before

-him, and forced himself to read it through. The early paragraphs dealt

-with some small item of family news which in his present state of mind

-mattered to Lavendar no more than the distant chirruping of the birds,

-out there in the sunshine. "You seem determined to stay for some time

-at Stoke Revel," his sister wrote. "No doubt the pretty American is

-the attraction. She sounds charming from your description, but my dear

-man, that's all froth! How many times have I heard this sort of thing

-from you before! Remember I know everything about your former loves."

-

-"You _don't_, then," said Lavendar to himself. Down, down, down at the

-bottom of the well of the heart where truth lies, there is always some

-remembrance, generally a very little one, that can never be told to

-any confidant.

-

-"You will find out faults in Mrs. Loring presently, just like the rest

-of them," continued the pitiless writer. (Amy's handwriting was

-painfully distinct.) "I must tell you that at the Cowleys' the other

-day, I suddenly came face to face with Gertrude Meredith _and Dolly_!

-Dolly looks a good deal older already and fatter, I thought. I fear

-she is losing her looks, for her colour has become fixed, and she

-_will_ wear no collars still, although on a rather thick neck, it's

-not at all becoming. I spoke to her for about three minutes, as it was

-less awkward, when we met suddenly face to face like that. She laughed

-a good deal, and asked for you rather audaciously, I thought. They

-live near Winchester now, and since the Colonel's death are pretty

-badly off, Gertrude says. Dolly is going to Devonshire to stay with

-the Cowleys; you may meet her there any day, remember. It does seem

-incredible to me that a man of your discrimination could have been won

-by the obvious devotion of a girl like Dolly; but having given your

-word I almost think you would better have kept it, rather than suffer

-all this criticism from a host of mutual friends."

-

-Lavendar groaned aloud. He had a good memory, and with all too great

-distinctness did he now remember Dolly Meredith's laugh. How wretched

-it had all been; not a word had ever passed between them that had any

-value now. If he could have washed the thought of her forever from his

-memory, how greatly he would have rejoiced at that moment.

-

-Well, it was over; written down against him, that he had been what the

-world called a jilt and a fool; yes, certainly a fool, but not so

-great a one as to follow his folly to its ultimate conclusion, and tie

-himself for life to a woman he did not love.

-

-Lavendar was extraordinarily sensitive about the breaking of his

-engagement; partly because Miss Meredith herself, in her first rage,

-had avowed his responsibility for her blighted future, giving him no

-chance for chivalrous behaviour; partly because in all his transient

-love affairs he had easily tired of the women who inspired them. He

-seemed thirsty for love, but weary of it almost as soon as the draught

-reached his lips.

-

-And now had he a chance again?--or was it all to end in disappointment

-once more, in that cold disappointment of the heart that has received

-stones for bread? It was not entirely his own fault; he had expected

-much from life, and hitherto had received very little. But Robinette!

-

-"Let me find all her faults now," he said to himself, "or evermore

-keep silent; meantime I hope I am not concealing too many of my

-own."

-

-He tried to force himself into criticism; to look at her as a cold

-observer from the outside would have done; for that curious Border

-country of Love which he had entered has not an equable climate at

-all. It is fire and frost alternate; and criticism is either roused

-almost to a morbid pitch, or else the faculty is drugged, and nothing,

-not even the enumeration of a hundred foibles will awaken it for a

-time.

-

-When the cold fit had been upon him the evening before, Lavendar had

-said to himself that her manner was too free--that she had led him on

-too quickly; no, that expression was dishonourable and unjust; he

-repented it instantly; she had been too unself-conscious, too girlish,

-too unthinking, in what she said and did. "But she's a widow after

-all, though she's only two and twenty," he went on to himself. "Hang

-it! I wish she were not! If her heart were in her husband's grave I

-should be moaning at that; and because I see that it is not, I become

-critical. There's nothing quite perfect in life!"

-

-He had begun by noticing some little defects in her personal

-appearance, but he was long past that now; what did such trifles

-matter, here or there? Then he remembered all that he had heard said

-about American women. Did those pretty clothes of hers mean that she

-would be extravagant and selfish to obtain them? Could a young man

-with no great fortune offer her the luxury that was necessary to her?

-and even so, what changes come with time! He had a full realization of

-what the boredom of family life can be, when passion has grown stale.

-

-"At seventy, say, when I am palsied and she is old and fat, will

-romance be alive then? Will such feeling leave anything real behind it

-when it falls away, as the white blossoms on Mrs. Prettyman's plum

-tree will shrink and fall a fortnight hence?"

-

-He looked about him. On the walls of the little church were tablets

-with the de Tracy names; the names of her forefathers amongst them.

-Under his feet were other flags with names upon them too; and out

-there in the sunshine were the grave-stones of a hundred dead. How

-many of them had been happy in their loves?

-

-Not so many, he thought, if all were told, and why should he hope to

-be different? Yet surely this was a new feeling, a worthy one, at

-last. It was not for her charming person that he loved her; not

-because of her beauty and her gaiety only; but because he had seen in

-her something that gave a promise of completion to his own nature, the

-something that would satisfy not only his senses but his empty heart.

-

-He clenched his hands on the carved top of the old pew in front of

-him, which was fashioned into a laughing gnome with the body of a

-duck. "And if this should be all a dream," he asked himself again, "if

-this should all be false too! Good Lord!" he cried half aloud, "I

-want to be honest now! I want to find the truth. My whole life is on

-the throw this time!"

-

-There was a moment's silence after he had uttered the words. He got up

-and moved slowly down the aisle, opening the door, seeing again the

-meadow of buttercups, yellow as gold, and listening again to the

-sparrows chirruping in the sunshine outside.

-

-"I have been in that church a quarter of an hour," he said to himself,

-"and in trying to dive to the depths of myself and find out whether I

-was giving a woman all I had to give, I did not get time to consider

-that woman's probable answer, should I place my uninteresting life and

-liberty at her disposal."

-

-

-

-

-XV

-

-"NOW LUBIN IS AWAY"

-

-

-Lavendar made his adieux after luncheon and went off to London.

-"Good-bye for the present, Mrs. de Tracy; I shall be back on Wednesday

-probably, if I can arrange it," he said. "Good-bye, Mrs. Loring," and

-here he altered the phrase to "Shall I come back on Wednesday?" for

-his hostess had left the open door.

-

-There was no hesitation, but all too little sentiment, about

-Robinette's reply.

-

-"Wednesday, at the latest, are my orders," she answered merrily, and

-with the words ringing in his ears Lavendar took his departure.

-

-"Do you remember that this is the afternoon of the garden party at

-Revelsmere?" Mrs. de Tracy enquired, coming into the drawing room a

-few minutes later, where Mrs. Loring stood by the open window. She

-had allowed herself just five minutes of depression, staring out at

-the buttercup meadow. How black the rooks looked as they flew about it

-and how dreary everything was, now that Lavendar had gone! She was

-woman enough to be able to feel inwardly amused at her own absurdity,

-when she recognized that the ensuing three days seemed to stretch out

-into a limitless expanse of dullness. "The village seemed asleep or

-dead now Lubin was away!" Still, after all, it was an occasion for

-wearing a pretty frock, and she knew herself well enough to feel sure

-that the sight of a few of her fellow-creatures even pretending to

-enjoy themselves, would make her volatile spirits rise like the

-mercury in a thermometer on a hot day.

-

-Miss Smeardon was to be her companion, as Mrs. de Tracy had a headache

-that afternoon and was afraid of the heat, she said. "What heat?"

-Robinette had asked innocently, for in spite of the brilliant sunlight

-the wind blew from the east, keen as a knife. "I shall take a good

-wrap in the carriage in spite of this tropical temperature," she

-thought. Carnaby refused point blank to drive with them; he would

-bicycle to the party or else not go at all, so it was alone with Miss

-Smeardon that Robinette started in the heavy old landau behind the

-palsied horse.

-

-Miss Smeardon gave one glance at Mrs. Loring's dress, and Robinette

-gave one glance at Miss Smeardon's, each making her own comments.

-

-"That white cloth will go to the cleaner, I suppose, after one

-wearing, and as for that thing on her head with lilac wistaria

-drooping over the brim, it can't be meant as a covering, or a

-protection, either from sun or wind; it's nothing but an ornament!"

-Miss Smeardon commented; while to herself Robinette ejaculated,--

-

-"A penwiper, an old, much-used penwiper, is all that Miss Smeardon

-resembles in that black rag!"

-

-Carnaby, watching the start at the door, whistled in open admiration

-as Robinette came down the steps.

-

-"Well, well! we are got up to kill this afternoon; pity old Mark has

-just gone; but cheer up, Cousin Robin, there's always a curate on

-hand!"

-

-For once Robinette's ready tongue played her false, and a sense of

-loneliness overcame her at the sound of Lavendar's name. She gathered

-up her long white skirts and got into the carriage with as much

-dignity as she could muster, while Carnaby, his eyes twinkling with

-mischief, stood ready to shut the door after Miss Smeardon.

-

-"Hope you'll enjoy your drive," he jeered. "You'll need to hold on

-your hats. Bucephalus goes at such fiery speed that they'll be torn

-off your heads unless you do."

-

-"Middy dear, you're not the least amusing," said Robinette quite

-crossly, and with a lurch the carriage moved off.

-

-Miss Smeardon settled herself for conversation. "I'm afraid you will

-find me but a dull companion, Mrs. Loring," she said, glancing

-sideways at Robinette from under the brim of her mushroom hat.

-

-"Oh, you will be able to tell me who everyone is," said Robinette as

-cheerfully as she could.

-

-"I am no gossip," Miss Smeardon protested.

-

-"It isn't necessary to gossip, is it?--but I've a wholesome interest

-in my fellow creatures."

-

-"And it is well to know about people a little; when one comes among

-strangers as you do, Mrs. Loring; one can't be too careful--an

-American, particularly."

-

-Miss Smeardon's voice trailed off upon a note of insinuation; but

-Robinette took no notice of the remark. She did not seem to have

-anything to say, so Miss Smeardon took up another subject.

-

-"What a pity that Mr. Lavendar had to leave before this afternoon; he

-would have been such an addition to our party!"

-

-"Yes, wouldn't he?" Robinette agreed, though she carefully kept out of

-her voice the real passion of assent that was in her heart.

-

-"Mr. Lavendar is so agreeable, I always think," Miss Smeardon went on.

-"Everyone likes him; he almost carries his pleasant ways too far. I

-suppose that was how--" She paused, and added again, "Oh, but as I

-said, I never talk scandal!"

-

-"Do you think it's possible to be too pleasant?" Robinette remarked,

-stupidly enough, scarcely caring what she said.

-

-"Well, when it leads a poor girl to imagine that she is loved! I hear

-that Dolly Meredith is just heart-broken. The engagement kept on for

-quite a year, I believe, and then to break it off so heartlessly!--I

-was reminded of it all by coming here. Miss Meredith is a cousin of

-our hostess, and they met first at Revelsmere when they were quite

-young."

-

-"There is always a certain amount of talk when an engagement has to

-be broken off," said Robinette in a cold voice.

-

-"They seemed quite devoted at first," Miss Smeardon began; but

-Robinette interrupted her.

-

-"The sooner such things are forgotten the better, I think," she said.

-"No one, except the two people concerned, ever knows the real

-truth.--Tell me, Miss Smeardon, whom we are likely to meet at

-Revelsmere? Who is our hostess? What sort of parties does she give?"

-

-Being so firmly switched off from the affairs of Mr. Lavendar and Miss

-Meredith, it was impossible for Miss Smeardon to talk about them any

-more, and she had to turn to a less congenial theme.

-

-"We shall meet the neighbours," she told Robinette, "but I am afraid

-they may not interest you very much. I understand that in America you

-are accustomed to a great deal of the society of gentlemen. Here there

-are so few, and all of them are married."

-

-"All?" laughed Robinette.

-

-"Well, there is Mr. Finch, the curate, but he is a celibate; and young

-Mr. Tait of Strewe, but he is slightly paralysed."

-

-"Why, Carnaby must be quite an eligible bachelor in these parts," said

-Robinette; but Miss Smeardon was so deadly literal that she accepted

-the remark as a serious one.

-

-"Not quite yet; in a few years' time we shall need to be very careful,

-there are so many girls here, but not all of them desirable, of

-course."

-

-"There are? What a dull time they must have with the Married Men, the

-Celibate, the Paralytic, and Carnaby! I'm glad my girlhood wasn't

-spent in Devonshire."

-

-Conversation ended here, for the carriage rumbled up the avenue, and

-Robinette looked about her eagerly. Revelsmere was a nice old house,

-surrounded by fine sloping lawns and a background of sombre

-beechwoods. The lawns to-day were dotted with groups of people, mainly

-women, and elderly at that. As Robinette and Miss Smeardon alighted

-at the door an elderly hostess welcomed them, and an elderly host led

-them across the lawn and straightly they fell into the clutches of

-more and more elderlies.

-

-"It is fairly bewildering!" Robinette cried in her heart; then she saw

-a bevy of girls approaching; such nice-looking girls, happy, well

-dressed, but all unattended by their suitable complement of young

-men.

-

-"For whom do they dress, here? They've a deal of self-respect, I

-think, to go on getting themselves up so nicely for themselves and the

-Celibate, the Paralytic, and Carnaby," thought Robinette, as she

-watched them.

-

-Presently another couple came across the lawn; the young woman was by

-no means a girl, rather heavily built, with a high fixed colour. She

-was attended by a man. "Not the Celibate certainly," thought Mrs.

-Loring with a glance at his bullock-like figure, his thick neck, and

-glossy black hair, "nor the Paralytic; and it's not Carnaby. It must

-be a new arrival!"

-

-At that moment it began to rain, but nothing daunted, their hostess

-approached her, and saying pleasantly that she wished to introduce her

-to Miss Meredith, she left Robinette and the young woman standing

-together under a spreading tree, and took the gentleman away with

-her.

-

-The moment that she heard the name, Robinette realized who Miss

-Meredith was. They seated themselves side by side on a garden bench,

-and Miss Meredith remarked upon the heat, planting a rather fat hand

-upon the arm of the garden seat, and surveying it complacently,

-especially the very bright diamond ring upon the third finger.

-

-After a few preliminary remarks, she asked Mrs. Loring if she were

-stopping in the neighbourhood.

-

-"Yes, I am staying at Stoke Revel for a short time," Robinette

-replied; "Mrs. de Tracy is my aunt, or at least I am Admiral de

-Tracy's niece."

-

-Her companion did not seem to take the least interest in this part of

-the information, only when Stoke Revel was mentioned she looked around

-suddenly as if surprised.

-

-They talked upon indifferent subjects, while Robinette, as she watched

-Miss Meredith, was saying a good deal to herself, although she only

-spoke aloud about the weather and the Devonshire scenery.

-

-"I will be just, if I can't be generous," she thought. "She has (or

-she must once have had) a fine complexion. I dare say she is sincere

-enough; she may be sensible; she might be good-humoured,--when

-pleased."

-

-"There is going to be a shower," said Miss Meredith, "but I've nothing

-on to spoil," she added, glancing at Robinette's hat.

-

-Sitting there on the bench, hearing the spitting rain upon the water

-below them and watching the leaden mists that slowly gathered over the

-landscape, Robinette fell upon a moment of soul sickness very unusual

-to her. Miss Meredith too was silent, absorbed in her own thoughts.

-

-"If she had looked even a little different it would have been so much

-easier to explain," thought Robinette. Then suddenly she glanced up.

-She saw that her companion's face had softened, and changed. There was

-a look,--Robinette caught it just for one moment,--such as a proud

-angry child might have worn: sulky, hurt to the heart, but determined

-not to cry. Instantly a chord was struck in Robinette's soul. "She has

-suffered, anyway," she thought. "May I be forgiven for my harsh

-judgment!"

-

-With a shiver she drew her wrap about her shoulders, and Miss Meredith

-turned towards her. The expression Robinette had noticed passed from

-the high-coloured face and left it as before, self-complacent and

-slightly patronizing. "You seem to feel cold," she said. "I never do;

-which is rather unfortunate, as I'm just going out to India!"

-

-"Indeed? How soon are you going?"

-

-"In about six weeks. I'm just going to be married, and we sail

-directly afterwards," said Miss Meredith. "You saw Mr. Joyce, I think,

-when we came up together a few minutes ago?"

-

-A weight as if of a ton of lead was lifted from Robinette's heart as

-she spoke. She could scarcely refrain from jumping up to throw her

-arms about Dolly Meredith's neck and kiss her. As it was, she bubbled

-over with a kind of sympathetic interest that astonished the other

-woman. It is only too easy to lead an approaching bride to talk about

-her own affairs, for she can seldom take in the existence of even her

-nearest and dearest at such a time, and in a few minutes the two young

-women were deep in conversation. When a quarter of an hour later Miss

-Smeardon appeared to tell Robinette that they must be going, she

-looked up with a start at the sound of footsteps on the gravel path.

-"Oh, you are here, Mrs. Loring; we couldn't think where you had

-gone," said Miss Smeardon, acidly.

-

-"And here is Miss Meredith of all people!" she continued, "I thought

-you were sure to be on the tennis court, Miss Meredith; Mr. Joyce is

-playing now."

-

-"Oh, we have had such a delightful talk," said Dolly, so flushed with

-pleasure that Miss Smeardon gazed at her in astonishment.

-

-"If only I knew her well enough to send her a munificent wedding

-present! How I should love to do so; just to register my own joy,"

-said Robinette to herself. As it was she shook hands very warmly with

-Miss Meredith before they parted, and when half way across the lawn,

-looked back again, and waved her hand gaily. Miss Meredith was pacing

-the grass, and treading heavily beside her, with a very gallant air,

-was her bullock-like young man.

-

-"Mr. Joyce is quite wealthy," said Miss Smeardon. "I understand that

-he is an only son too, and will some day inherit a fine property.

-Miss Meredith is most fortunate, at her age and with her history."

-

-Robinette said nothing. She looked out at the glistening reaches of

-the river, now shining through the silver mist; at the fields yellow

-with buttercups, and the folds of the distant hills. As they drove up

-the lane to the house, the birds, refreshed by the rain, were singing

-like angels. In her heart too, something was singing as blithely as

-any bird amongst them all.

-

-"Sometimes, sometimes our mistakes do not come home to roost!" she

-thought, "but fly away and make nests elsewhere--rich nests in India

-too!"

-

-"How did you enjoy the party, Cousin Robin?" said Carnaby, who

-was waiting for them in the doorway. "I had a good tuck-in of

-strawberries. The ladies were a little young for my taste; just

-immature girls; no one under sixty, and rather frisky, don't you

-think? By the way did you see Number One and her millionaire?"

-

-"I don't know what you mean by Number One," said Robinette, haughtily,

-as she passed in at the door.

-

-"You will, when you're Number Two!" rejoined Carnaby, stooping to

-pinch Lord Roberts' tail till the hero yelped aloud.

-

-

-

-

-XVI

-

-TWO LETTERS

-

-

-Lavendar tore up his fourth sheet of paper and began afresh. "Dear

-Mrs. Loring." No, that would not do; he took another sheet, and began

-again:--

-

-"My dear Mrs. Loring,--Your commission for old Mrs. Prettyman has

-taken some little time to execute, for I had to go to two or three

-shops before finding a chair 'with green cushions, and a wide seat, so

-comfortable that it would almost act as an anæsthetic if her

-rheumatism happened to be bad, and yet quite suitable for a cottage

-room.' These were my orders, I think, and like all your orders they

-demand something better than the mere perfunctory observance. My own

-proportions differing a good deal from those of the old lady, it is

-still an open question whether what seemed comfortable to me will be

-quite the same to her. I can but hope so, and the chair will be

-dispatched at once.

-

-"London is noisy and dusty, and grimy and stuffy, and, to one man at

-least, very, very dull. A boat on Greenshaw ferry seems the only spot

-in the world where any gaiety is to be found. You can hear the cuckoos

-calling across the river as you read this, no doubt, and Carnaby is

-rendered happier than he deserves by being allowed to row you down to

-tell Mrs. Prettyman about the chair. I feel as if, like the Japanese,

-I could journey a hundred miles to worship that wonderful tree.--Don't

-let the blossoms fall until I come!

-

-"There seems a good deal of business to be done. My father unfortunately

-is no better, so he cannot come down to Stoke Revel, and I shall

-probably return upon Wednesday morning. A poem of Browning's runs in my

-head--something about three days--I can't quote exactly.

-

-"If my sister were writing this letter, she would say that I have been

-very hard to please, and uninterested in everything since I came home.

-Indeed it seems as if I were. London in this part of it, in hot

-weather, makes a man weary for green woods, a sliding river, and a

-Book of Verses underneath a Bough. Well, perhaps I shall have all of

-them by Wednesday afternoon. You will think I can do nothing but

-grumble. All the same, into what was the mere dull routine of

-uncongenial work before, your influence has come with a current of new

-energy; like the tide from the sea swelling up into the inland

-river.--I'm at it again! Rivers on the brain evidently.

-

-"I hope meanwhile that Carnaby behaves himself, and is not too much of

-a bore, and that England,--England in spring at least, is gaining a

-corner in your heart? Your mother called it home, remember. Yes, do

-try to remember that!

-

-"Did you go to the garden party? Did you walk? Did you drive? Did you

-like it? Who was there? Were you dull?"

-

-                  *       *       *       *       *

-

-There was a postscript:--

-

-"I have found the verse from Browning, 'So I shall see her in three

-days.'

-

-                                                               "M. L."

-

-                  *       *       *       *       *

-

-                                                       "Tuesday, 19th.

-

-"Dear Mr. Lavendar: First, many thanks for Nurse's armchair, which

-arrived in perfect order, and is a shining monument to your good

-taste. She does nothing but look at it, shrouding it when she retires

-to bed with an old table-cover, to protect it from the night air.

-

-"Whether she will ever make its acquaintance thoroughly enough to sit

-in it I do not know, but it will give her an enormous amount of

-pleasure. Perhaps her glow of pride in its possession does her as much

-good as the comfort she might take in its use.

-

-"Her 'rheumatics' are very painful just now, and I have a good deal to

-do with Duckie. You remember Duckie? I call her Mrs. Mackenzie, after

-that lady in The Newcomes who talked the Colonel to death. Mrs.

-Mackenzie is heavy, elderly, and strong-willed. I am acquainted with

-every bone, tendon, and sinew in her body, having to lift her into a

-coop behind the cottage where she will not wake Nurse at dawn with her

-eternal quacking. She has heretofore slept under Nurse's bedroom

-window and dislikes change of any kind. So lucky she has no offspring!

-I tremble to think of what maternal example might do in such a

-talkative family!

-

-"Stoke Revel is as it was and ever will be, world without end; only

-Aunt de Tracy is crosser than when you are here and life is not as

-gay, although Carnaby does his dear, cubbish best. If ever you

-desire your mental jewels to shine at their brightest; if ever you

-wish a tolerably good disposition to seem like that of an angel; if

-ever, in a fit of vanity, you would like to appear as a blend of

-Apollo, Lancelot, Demosthenes, Prince Charlie, Ajax, and Solomon,

-just fly to Stoke Revel and become part of the household. Assume

-nothing; simply appear, and the surroundings will do the rest; like

-the penny-in-the-slot arrangements. Seen upon a background of Bates,

-William, Benson, Big Cummins, the Curate, Miss Smeardon, and may I

-dare to add, the lady of the Manor herself,--any living breathing

-man takes on an Olympian majesty. I shouldn't miss you in Boston

-nor in London; perhaps even in Weston I might find a wretched

-substitute, but here you are priceless!

-

-"I have some news for you. On Saturday Miss Smeardon and I went to a

-garden party. That was what it was called. The thermometer was only

-slightly below zero when we started, and that luminary masquerading as

-the sun was pretending to shine. Soon after we arrived at the festive

-scene, there were gusts of wind and rain. I sought the shelter of a

-spreading tree, the kitchen fire not being available, and I was joined

-there by the hostess, who presented her niece, your Miss Meredith.

-

-"Dear Mr. Lavendar, this is a subject we cannot write about, you and

-I. I am loyal to my sex, and what Miss Meredith said, and looked, and

-did, are all as sacred to me as they ought to be. I only want to tell

-you that she is happy; that she has this very week become engaged, and

-is going to India with her husband in a month. Now that little

-cankerworm, that has been gnawing at your roots of life for the last

-year or two, has done its worst, and you are perfectly free to go and

-make other mistakes. I only hope you'll get 'scot free' from those,

-too, for I don't like to see nice men burn their fingers. We became

-such good friends huddled up in that boat when we were stuck in the

-mud--Ugh! I can smell it now!--that I am glad to be the first to send

-you pleasant news.

-

-                                             "Sincerely yours,

-                                                 "ROBINETTA LORING."

-

-

-

-

-XVII

-

-MRS. DE TRACY CROSSES THE FERRY

-

-

-Lavendar's blunt refusal, except under certain conditions, to

-announce to Mrs. Prettyman her coming ejection from the cottage at

-Wittisham, was unprofessional enough, as he himself felt; but it

-was final and categorical. Conveying as it did a sort of tacit

-remonstrance, this refusal had an unfortunate effect, for it only

-served to rouse Mrs. de Tracy's formidable obstinacy. She had

-seized upon one point only in their numberless and wearisome

-discussions of the matter: Mrs. Prettyman had no legal claim upon

-Stoke Revel. To give her compensation for the plum tree would be to

-allow that she had; to create a precedent highly dangerous under the

-circumstances. How could one refuse to other old women or old men

-leaving their cottages what one had weakly granted to her? The

-demands would be unceasing, the trouble endless. So arguing, Mrs. de

-Tracy soon brought herself to a state of determination bordering on a

-sort of mania. She was old, and in exaggerated harshness her life was

-retreating as it were into its last stronghold, at bay.

-

-As good as her word, for she had vowed she would warn Mrs. Prettyman

-herself, and she was never one to procrastinate, the lady of the Manor

-proceeded to plan her visit to Wittisham. She had not crossed the

-river for years. Wittisham, one of the loveliest villages in England,

-perhaps, though little known, was a thorn in her side, as it would

-have been in that of any other landlord with empty pockets.

-

-What you could not deal with to your own advantage, it was better to

-ignore, and on this autocratic principle, Mrs. de Tracy had left

-Wittisham to itself.

-

-But now the boat carried her there, alone and fierce--_thrawn_, as

-the Scotch say--bent upon a course of conduct that she knew would

-hold her up to the hatred of every right-thinking person of her

-acquaintance, and bitterly triumphant in the knowledge. The

-meanness of her errand never struck her. On the contrary, she would

-have argued it was one well worthy of her, a part of the scheme in

-the consummation of which she had spent her married life and her whole

-indomitable energy, losing actually her own identity in the process,

-and becoming an inexorable machine. That scheme was the holding

-together of Stoke Revel for the de Tracys, the maintenance of family

-dignity and power, the pre-eminence of a race that had always ruled.

-The river beneath her, carrying her to the fulfilment of her duty,

-the noble river, widening to the sea, subject to its tides and made

-turbulent by its storms, typified to Mrs. de Tracy only the

-greatness of Stoke Revel. From its banks the de Tracys had sent out,

-generation after generation, men who had commanded fleets, who

-had upheld the national honour upon the farthest seas, very often at

-the cost of life. There was no sacrifice of herself at which Mrs.

-de Tracy would have hesitated in upholding this ideal, no sacrifice

-of others, either. What was Lizzie Prettyman in comparison? A bag

-of old bones, fit for nothing but the workhouse!

-

-"A little faster, William," said the widow, sitting upright in the

-stern, and William the footman bent to his oars, the beads of

-perspiration standing on his brow. When Mrs. de Tracy stepped out upon

-the pier, she had to be reminded where the Prettyman cottage was.

-

-"You'll know it by the plum tree, ma'am," said William respectfully,

-"everybody does."

-

-It was not far off on the river side. The tide had ebbed and left a

-stretch of muddy foreshore in front of it, where the rotting poles for

-hanging the fishing nets out to dry stood gauntly up. Mrs. de Tracy

-approached the steps, which merged into the flagged path before the

-door, and paused to survey the property she intended to part with. She

-had no eye for the picturesque. A few white petals from the blossoming

-plum tree, scattered by the breeze, fell upon her black bonnet and

-shoulders. A faint scent of honey came from it and the hum of bees,

-for the day was warm. The tumble-down condition of the cottage engaged

-Mrs. de Tracy's attention.

-

-"And for this," she thought scornfully, "a man will give hundreds of

-pounds! There's truth in the adage that a fool and his money are soon

-parted!"

-

-She mounted the steps that led up to the patch of garden, her keen,

-cold eyes everywhere at once. "A cat can't sneeze without she 'ears

-'im!" her villagers at Stoke Revel were wont to say, disappearing into

-their houses as rabbits into their burrows at sight of a terrier.

-

-Old Elizabeth Prettyman stood at her door, and it took some time to

-make her realize who her august visitor was. She was getting blind;

-she had never been a favourite with Mrs. de Tracy, nor had she entered

-Stoke Revel Manor since her nursling disgraced it by marrying a Bean.

-She curtseyed humbly to the great lady.

-

-"There now, ma'am," she said, "it's not often we have seen you across

-the river. Will you please to come inside and sit down, ma'am? 'T is

-very warm this afternoon, it is." She was a good deal fluttered in her

-welcome, for there was that in Mrs. de Tracy's air that seemed to bode

-misfortune.

-

-"I shall sit down for a few minutes, Elizabeth," was the reply, "while

-I explain my visit to you."

-

-Mrs. Prettyman stood aside respectfully, and Mrs. de Tracy swept past

-her into the cottage and seated herself there. It never occurred to

-her to ask the old woman to sit down in her own house; she expected

-her to stand throughout the interview. Without further preamble,

-then, Mrs. de Tracy came to the point:--

-

-"Elizabeth," she said, "I have come to tell you that I am going to

-sell the land on which this cottage stands, and that you will have to

-find some other home."

-

-The old woman did not understand for a minute. "You be going to sell

-the land, ma'am?" she repeated stupidly.

-

-"Yes, I am. A gentleman from London wishes to buy it; you will need to

-go."

-

-"A gentleman from London! Lor, ma'am, no gentleman from London

-wouldn't live 'ere!" Elizabeth cried, perfectly dazed by the

-statement.

-

-Mrs. de Tracy repeated: "It is not your business, Elizabeth, what he

-intends to do with the place; all you have to do is to remove from the

-house."

-

-The old woman sank down on the nearest chair and covered her face with

-her hands. She was so old and so tired that she had no heart to face

-life under new conditions, even should they be better than those she

-left. A younger woman would have snapped her fingers in Mrs. de

-Tracy's face, so to speak, and wished her joy of her old rattletrap of

-a house, but Elizabeth Prettyman, after a lifetime of struggles, had

-not vitality enough for such an action. She had never dreamed of

-leaving the cottage, and where was she to go? Her furrowed face wore

-an expression of absolute terror now when she looked up.

-

-"But where be I to live, ma'am?" she cried.

-

-"I do not know, Elizabeth; you must arrange that with your relations,"

-said Mrs. de Tracy.

-

-"I don't 'ave but only me niece--'er as married down Exeter way."

-

-"Well, you should write to her then."

-

-"She don't want to keep me, Nettie don't,--she's but a poor man's

-wife, and five chillen she 'as; it's not like as if she were me

-daughter, ma'am."

-

-"You have some small sum of money of your own every year, have you

-not?" Mrs. de Tracy asked.

-

-"Ten pound a year, ma'am; the same that me 'usband left me; two

-'undred pounds 'e 'ad saved and 't is in an annuity; that's all I

-'ave--that and me plum tree."

-

-"The plum tree is not yours, either, Elizabeth; that belongs to the

-land," said Mrs. de Tracy curtly.

-

-"'T was me 'usband planted it, ma'am, years ago. We watched 'en and

-pruned 'en and tended 'en like a child we did--an' now to be told 'er

-ain't mine!"

-

-"You're forgetting yourself, Elizabeth, I think," said Mrs. de Tracy.

-It was simply impossible for her to see with the old woman's eyes; all

-she remembered was the legal fact that any tree planted in Stoke Revel

-ground belonged to the owner of the ground.

-

-"But ma'am, 't is a big part of me living is the plum tree; only

-yesterday I says to the young lady--Miss Cynthia's young lady--I

-says, 'Dear knows how 't would be with me without I had the plum

-tree.'"

-

-"I cannot help that, Elizabeth: the plum tree is not yours, it belongs

-to Stoke Revel."

-

-"Then ma'am, you'll be 'lowing me something for it surely?"

-

-"No," said Mrs. de Tracy obstinately, "you have no legal claim to

-compensation, Elizabeth. I cannot undertake to allow you anything for

-what is not yours. If I did it in your case you know quite well I

-should have to do it in many others."

-

-There was a long and heavy silence. Elizabeth Prettyman was taking in

-her sentence of banishment from her old home; Mrs. de Tracy was merely

-wondering how long it would take her to walk down that nasty steep bit

-of path to the ferry. At last the old woman looked up.

-

-"When must I be goin' then, ma'am?" she asked meekly.

-

-Mrs. de Tracy considered. "The transfer of land from one person to

-another generally takes some time: you will have several weeks here

-still; I shall send you notice later which day to quit."

-

-"Thank you, ma'am," said Elizabeth simply, and added, "The plum tree

-blossoms 'ul be over by that time."

-

-"I don't see what that has to do with it," said Mrs. de Tracy, in

-whose heart there was room for no sentiment.

-

-"'T would have been 'arder leavin' it in blossom time," the old woman

-explained; but her hearer could not see the point. She rose slowly

-from her chair and looked around the cottage.

-

-"I am glad to see that you keep your place clean and respectable,

-Elizabeth," she said. "I wish you good afternoon."

-

-Elizabeth never rose from her chair to see her visitor to the door--(an

-omission which Mrs. de Tracy was not likely to overlook)--she just sat

-there gazing stupidly around the tiny kitchen and muttering a word or

-two now and then. At last she got up and tottered to the garden.

-

-"I'll 'ave to leave it all--leave the old bench as me William did put

-for me with his own 'ands, and leave Duckie, Duckie can't never go to

-Exeter if I goes there,--and leave the plum tree." She limped across

-the little bit of sunny turf, and stood under the white canopy of the

-blossoming tree, leaning against its slender trunk. "Pity 't is we

-ain't rooted in the ground same as the trees are," she mused. "Then no

-one couldn't turn us out; only the Lord Almighty cut us down when our

-time came; Lord knows I'm about ready for that now--grave-ripe as you

-may say." She leaned her poor weary old head against the tree stem and

-wept, ready, ah! how ready, at that moment, to lay down the burden of

-her long and toilsome life.

-

-"Good afternoon, Nursie dear!" a clear voice called out in her ear,

-and Elizabeth started to find that Robinette had tip-toed across the

-grass and was standing close beside her. She lifted her tear-stained

-face up to Robinette's as a child might have done.

-

-"I've to quit, Missie," she sobbed, "to leave me 'ome and Duckie and

-the plum tree, an' I've no place to go to, and naught but my ten

-pounds to live on--and 't won't keep me without I've the plum tree,

-not when I've rent to pay from it; not if I don't eat nothing but tea

-an' bread never again!"

-

-In a moment Robinette's arms were about her: her soft young cheeks

-pressed against the withered old face.

-

-"What's this you're saying, Nurse?" she cried. "Leaving your cottage?

-Who said so?"

-

-"It's true, dear, quite true; 'asn't the lady 'erself been here to

-tell me so?"

-

-"Was that what Aunt de Tracy was here about? I met her on the road

-five minutes ago; she said she had been here on business! But tell me,

-Nurse, why does she want you to leave? Are you going to get a better

-cottage? Does she think this one isn't healthy for you?"

-

-"No, no, dear, 't isn't that, she 've sold the cottage over me 'ead,

-that's what 't is, or she's going to sell it, to a gentleman from

-London--Lord knows what a gentleman from London wants wi' 'en--and

-I've to quit."

-

-Robinette tried to be a peacemaker.

-

-"Then you'll get a much more comfortable house, that's quite certain.

-You know, though this one is lovely on fine days like this, that the

-thatch is all coming off, and I'm sure it's damp inside! Just wait a

-bit, and see if you don't get some nice cosy little place, with a

-sound roof and quite dry, that will cure this rheumatism of yours."

-

-But Mrs. Prettyman shook her head.

-

-"No, no, there won't be no cosy place given to me; I'm no more worth

-than an old shoe now, Missie, and I'm to be turned out, the lady said

-so 'erself; said as I must go to Exeter to live with me niece Nettie,

-and 'er don't want us--Nettie don't--and whatever shall I do without I

-'ave Duckie and the plum tree?"

-

-"Oh, but"--Robinette began, quite incredulously, and the old woman

-took up her lament again.

-

-"And I asked the lady, wouldn't I 'ave something allowed me for the

-plum tree--that 'ave about clothed me for years back? And 'No,' she

-says, ''t ain't your plum tree, Elizabeth, 't is mine; I can't 'low

-nothing on me own plum tree.'"

-

-Robinette still refused to believe the story.

-

-"Nurse, dear," she said, "you're a tiny bit deaf now, you know, and

-perhaps you misunderstood about leaving. Suppose you keep your dear

-old heart easy for to-night, and I'll come down bright and early

-to-morrow and tell you what it really is! If you have to leave the

-plum tree you'll get a fine price put on it that may last you for

-years; it's such a splendid tree, anyone can see it's worth a good

-deal."

-

-"That it be, Missie, the finest tree in Wittisham," the old woman

-said, drying her eyes, a little comforted by the assurance in

-Robinette's voice and manner.

-

-"There now, we won't have any more tears: I've brought a new canister

-of tea I sent for to London. I'm just dying to taste if it's good;

-we'll brew it together, Nursie; I shall carry out the little table

-from the kitchen and we'll drink our tea under the plum tree,"

-Robinette cried.

-

-She was carrying a great parcel under her arm, and when Mrs. Prettyman

-opened it, she could scarcely believe that this lovely red tin

-canister, filled with pounds of fragrant tea, could really be hers!

-The sight of such riches almost drove away her former fears. Robinette

-whisked into the kitchen and came out carrying the little round table

-which she set down under the white canopy of the plum tree. Then

-together they brought out the rest of the tea things, and what a merry

-meal they had!

-

-"It's just nonsense and a bit of deafness on your part, Nurse, so we

-won't remember anything about leaving the house, we are only going to

-think of enjoyment," Robinette announced. Then the old woman was

-comforted, as old people are wont to be by the brave assurances of

-those younger and stronger than themselves, forgot the spectre that

-seemed to have risen suddenly across her path, and laughed and talked

-as she sipped the fragrant London tea.

-

-

-

-

-XVIII

-

-THE STOKE REVEL JEWELS

-

-

-"Hullo! Cousin Robin, hurry up, you'll need all your time!" It was

-Carnaby of course who saluted Robinette thus, as she came towards the

-house on her return from Wittisham.

-

-"I'm not late, am I?" she said, consulting her watch.

-

-"I thought you'd be making a tremendous toilette; one of your killing

-ones to-night," Carnaby said. "Do! I love to see you all dressed up

-till old Smeardon's eyes look as if they would drop out when you come

-into the room."

-

-"I'll wear my black dress, and her eyes may remain in her head,"

-Robinette laughed.

-

-"And what about Mark's eyes? Wouldn't you like them to drop out?" the

-boy asked mischievously. "He's come back by the afternoon train while

-you were away at Wittisham."

-

-"Oh, has he?" Robinette said, and Carnaby stared so hard at her, that

-to her intense annoyance she blushed hotly.

-

-"Horrid lynx-eyed boy," she said to herself as she ran upstairs, "He's

-growing up far too quickly. He needs to be snubbed." She dashed to the

-wardrobe, pulled out the black garment, and gave it a vindictive shake.

-"Old, dowdy, unbecoming, deaconess-district-visitor-bible-woman,

-great-grand-auntly thing!" she cried.

-

-Then her eye lighted on a cherished lavender satin. She stood for a

-moment deliberating, the black dress over her arm, her eyes fixed upon

-the lavender one that hung in the wardrobe.

-

-"I don't care," she cried suddenly: "I'll wear the lavender, so here

-goes! Men are all colour blind, so he'll merely notice that I look

-nice. I must conceal from myself and everybody else how depressed I am

-over the interview with Nurse, and how I dread discussing the cottage

-with Aunt de Tracy. That must be done the first thing after dinner, or

-I shall lose what little courage I have."

-

-Lavendar thought he had never seen her look so lovely as when he met

-her in the drawing room a quarter of an hour later. There was nothing

-extraordinary about the dress but its exquisite tint and the sheen of

-the soft satin. The suggestion that lay in the colour was entirely

-lost upon him, however: if asked to name it he would doubtless have

-said "purplish." How he wished that he might have escorted her into

-the dining room, but Mrs. de Tracy was his portion as usual, and

-Robinette was waiting for Carnaby, who seemed unaccountably slow.

-

-"Your arm, Middy, when you are quite ready," she said to him at last.

-Carnaby's extraordinary unreadiness seemed to arise from his trying to

-smuggle some object up his sleeve. This proved, a few moments later,

-to be a bundle of lavender sticks tied with violet ribbon that he had

-discovered in his bureau drawer. He laid it by Robinette's plate with

-a whispered "My compliments."

-

-"What does your cousin want that bunch of lavender for, at the table?"

-Mrs. de Tracy enquired.

-

-"She likes lavender anywhere, ma'am," Carnaby said with a wink on the

-side not visible by his grandmother. "It's a favourite of hers."

-

-Robinette could only be thankful that Lavendar was occupied in a

-_sotto voce_ discussion of wine with Bates, and she was able to

-conceal the bundle of herbs before his eyes met hers, for the fury she

-felt against her precious young kinsman at that moment she could have

-expressed only by blows.

-

-Dinner seemed interminably long. Robinette, for more reasons than one,

-was preoccupied; Lavendar made few remarks, and Carnaby was possessed

-by a spirit of perfectly fiendish mischief, saying and doing

-everything that could most exasperate his grandmother, put her guests

-to the blush, and shock Miss Smeardon.

-

-But at last Mrs. de Tracy rose from the table, and the ladies followed

-her from the room, leaving Lavendar to cope alone with Carnaby.

-

-"My fair American cousin is more than usually lovely to-night, eh, Mr.

-Lavendar?" the boy said, with his laughable assumption of a man of the

-world.

-

-"There, my young friend; that will do! you're talking altogether too

-much," said Lavendar, as he poured himself out a glass of wine and sat

-down by the open window to drink it. Carnaby, perhaps not unreasonably

-offended, lounged out of the room, and left the older man to his own

-meditations.

-

-Robinette in the meantime went into the drawing room with her aunt,

-and they sat down together in the dim light while Miss Smeardon went

-upstairs to write a letter.

-

-"Aunt de Tracy," Robinette began, "I was calling on Mrs. Prettyman

-just after you had been with her this afternoon, and do you know the

-dear old soul had taken the strangest idea into her head! She says you

-are going to ask her to leave the cottage."

-

-"The land on which her cottage stands is about to be sold," said Mrs.

-de Tracy. "It is necessary that she should move."

-

-"Yes, she quite understood that; but she thinks she is not going to

-get another house; that was what was distressing her, naturally. Of

-course she hates to leave the old place, but I believe if she gets

-another nicer cottage, that will quite console her," said Robinette

-quickly.

-

-"I have no vacant cottage on the estate just now," said Mrs. de Tracy

-quietly.

-

-"Then what is she to do? Isn't it impossible that she should move

-until another place is made ready for her?" Robinette rose and stood

-beside the table, leaning the tips of her fingers on it in an attitude

-of intense earnestness. She was trying to conceal the anger and dismay

-she felt at her aunt's reply.

-

-"Mrs. Prettyman has relatives at Exeter," said Mrs. de Tracy without

-the quiver of an eyelid.

-

-"Yes; but they are poor. They aren't very near relations, and they

-don't want her. O Aunt de Tracy, is it necessary to make her leave?

-She depends upon the plum tree so! She makes twenty-five dollars a

-year from the jam!"

-

-"Dollars have no significance for me," said Mrs. de Tracy with an icy

-smile.

-

-"Well, pounds then: five pounds she makes. How is she ever going to

-live without that, unless you give her the equivalent? It's half her

-livelihood! I promised you would consider it? Was I wrong?"

-

-Old bitternesses rose in Mrs. de Tracy's heart, the prejudices and the

-grudges of a lifetime. Everything connected with Robinette's mother

-had been wrong in her eyes, and now everything connected with

-Robinette was wrong too, and becoming more so with startling

-rapidity.

-

-"You had no right whatsoever to make any promises on my behalf," she

-now said harshly. "You have acted foolishly and officiously. This is

-no business of yours."

-

-"I'll gladly make it my business if you'll let me, Aunt de Tracy!"

-pleaded Robinette. "If you don't feel inclined to provide for Mrs.

-Prettyman, mayn't I? She is my mother's old nurse and she shan't want

-for anything as long as I have a penny to call my own!" Robinette's

-eyes filled with tears, but Mrs. de Tracy was not a whit moved by this

-show of emotion, which appeared to her unnecessary and theatrical.

-

-"You are forgetting yourself a good deal in your way of speaking to me

-on this subject," she said coldly. "When I behaved unbecomingly in my

-youth, my mother always recommended me to go upstairs, shut myself up

-alone in my room, and collect my thoughts. The process had invariably

-a calming effect. I advise you to try it."

-

-Robinette did not need to be proffered the hint twice. She rushed out

-of the room like a whirlwind, not looking where she went. In the hall,

-she came face to face with Lavendar, who had just left the dining

-room.

-

-"Mr. Lavendar!" she cried. "Do go into the drawing room and speak to

-my aunt. Preach to her! Argue with her! Convince her that she can't

-and mustn't act in this way; can't go and turn Mrs. Prettyman out, and

-rob her of the plum tree, and leave her with hardly a penny in the

-world or a roof over her head!"

-

-"It's not a very pretty or a very pleasant business, Mrs. Loring, I

-admit," said Lavendar quietly.

-

-"Is it English law?" cried Robinette with indignation. "If it is, I

-call it mean and unjust!"

-

-"Sometimes the laws seem very hard," said Lavendar. "I'd like to

-discuss this affair with you quietly another time."

-

-As he spoke, Carnaby appeared and wanted to be told what the matter

-was, but Robinette discovered that it is not very easy to criticise a

-grandmother to her youthful grandson, more especially when the lady in

-question is your hostess.

-

-"Aunt de Tracy and I have had a little difference of opinion about

-Mrs. Prettyman and her cottage, and the plum tree," she said to the

-boy quietly, and Lavendar nodded approval.

-

-"Prettyman's got the sack, hasn't she?" Carnaby enquired with a boy's

-carelessness.

-

-Robinette looked very grave. "My dear old nurse is to leave her

-cottage," she said with a quiver in her voice. "She's to lose her plum

-tree--"

-

-"But of course she'll get compensation," cried Carnaby.

-

-"No, Middy; she's to get no compensation," said Robinette in a low

-voice.

-

-"Well, I call that jolly hard! It's a beastly shame," said Carnaby,

-evidently pricking up his ears and with a sudden frown that changed

-his face. "I say, Mark--" But Lavendar did not think the moment

-suitable for a discussion of Mrs. Prettyman's wrongs. Besides, he did

-not wish Robinette to be banished from the drawing room for a whole

-interminable evening. He contrived to silence Carnaby for the time

-being.

-

-"Let's bury the hatchet for a little while," he suggested. "Have you

-forgotten, Mrs. Loring, that I made Mrs. de Tracy promise to show off

-the Stoke Revel jewels for your benefit this very night?"

-

-"O! but now I'm in disgrace, she won't!" said Robinette.

-

-"Yes, she will!" said Carnaby. "Nothing puts the old lady in such a

-heavenly temper as showing off the jewels. Don't you miss it, Cousin

-Robin! It's like the Tower of London and Madam Tussaud's rolled into

-one, this show, I can assure you. Come on! Come back into the drawing

-room. Needn't be afraid when Mark's there!"

-

-Robinette found that a black look or two was all that she had to fear

-from Mrs. de Tracy at present, and even these became less severe

-under the alchemy of Lavendar's tact. A reminder that an exhibition of

-the jewelry had been promised was graciously received. Bates and

-Benson were summoned, and armed with innumerable keys, they descended

-to subterranean regions where safes were unlocked and jewel-boxes

-solemnly brought into the drawing room. Mrs. de Tracy wore an air

-almost devotional, as she unlocked the final receptacles with keys

-never allowed to leave her own hands.

-

-"If the proceedings had begun with prayer and ended with a hymn, it

-wouldn't have surprised me in the least!" Robinette said to herself,

-looking silently on. Her silence, luckily for her, was taken for the

-speechlessness of awe, and did a good deal to make up, in the eyes of

-her august relative, for her late indiscretions. As a matter of fact,

-her irreverent thoughts were mostly to the effect that all but the

-historical pieces of the Stoke Revel _corbeille_ would be the better

-of re-setting by Tiffany or Cartier.

-

-Mrs. de Tracy opened an old shagreen case and the firelight flickered

-on the diamonds of a small tiara.

-

-"This is a part of the famous Montmorency set," she announced proudly,

-with the tone of a Keeper of Regalia. Then she took out a rope of

-pearls ending in tassels. "These belonged to Marie Antoinette," she

-said.

-

-An emerald set was next produced, and the emeralds, it was explained,

-had once adorned a crown. Deep green they were, encrusted in their

-diamond setting; costly, unique; but they left Robinette cold, though

-like most American women, she loved precious stones as an adornment.

-One of those emeralds, she was thinking, was worth fifty times more

-than old Lizzie Prettyman's cottage: the sale of one of them would

-have averted that other sale which was to cause so much distress to a

-poor harmless old woman.

-

-"When do you wear your jewels, Aunt de Tracy?" she asked gravely.

-

-"I have not worn them since the Admiral's death," was the virtuous

-reply, "and I have never called or considered them mine, Robinetta.

-They are the de Tracy jewels. When Carnaby takes his place as the head

-of the house, they will be his. He will see that his wife wears them

-on the proper occasions."

-

-"Carnaby's wife!" thought Robinette. "Why! she mayn't be born! He may

-never have a wife! And to think of all those precious stones hiding

-their brightness in these boxes like prisoners in a dungeon for years

-and years, only to be let out now and then by Bates and Benson,

-jingling their keys like jailers! And this house is a prison too!" she

-said to herself; "a prison for souls!" and the thought of its hoarded

-wealth made her indignant; all this hidden treasure in a house where

-there was never enough to eat, where guests shivered in fireless

-bedrooms, where servants would not stay because they were starved! And

-Carnaby, too, whose youth was being embittered by unnecessary

-economies: Carnaby, who had so little pocket-money that he was a

-laughing-stock among his fellows--it was for Carnaby these sacrifices

-were being made! Strange traditions! Fetiches of family pride almost

-as grotesque to her thinking as those of any savages under the sun.

-

-"My poor dear Middy!" she thought. "What chance has he, brought up in

-an atmosphere like this?" But she happened to raise her eyes at the

-moment, and to see the actual Carnaby of the moment, not the Carnaby

-her gloomy imagination was evoking from the future with the "petty

-hoard of maxims preaching down" his heart. He had contrived to get

-hold of the Marie Antoinette pearls without his grandmother's

-knowledge and to hang them around his neck; he had poised the

-Montmorency tiara on his own sleek head; he had forced a heavy

-bracelet by way of collar round Rupert's throat, and now with that

-choking and goggling unfortunate held partner-wise in his arms, he was

-waltzing on tiptoe about the farther drawing room behind the

-unconscious backs of Mrs. de Tracy and Miss Smeardon.

-

-"He's only a careless boy," thought Robinette, "a happy-go-lucky,

-devil-may-care, hare-brained youngster. They can't have poisoned his

-nature yet, and I'm sure he has a good heart. If he were at the head

-of affairs at Stoke Revel instead of his grandmother, I wonder what

-would be done in the matter of my poor old nurse?" Robinette stood in

-the doorway for a moment before going up to her room. Her whole

-attitude spoke depression as Carnaby stole up behind her.

-

-"See here, Cousin Robin, I can't bear to have you go on like this.

-Don't take Prettyman's trouble so to heart. We'll do something! I'll

-do something myself! I have a happy thought."

-

-

-

-

-XIX

-

-LAWYER AND CLIENT

-

-

-Robinette had a bad night after the jewel exhibition, and a heavy head

-and aching eyes prompted her to ask Little Cummins to bring her

-breakfast to her bedroom.

-

-It was touching to see that small person hovering over Robinette:

-stirring the fire, sweeping the hearth, looping back the curtains,

-tucking the slippers out of sight, and moving about the room like a

-mother ministering to an ailing child. Finally she staggered in with

-the heavy breakfast tray that she had carried through long halls and

-up the stairs, and put it on the table by the bed.

-

-"There's a new-laid egg, ma'am, that cook 'ad for the mistress, but I

-thought you needed it more; an' I brewed the tea meself, to be sure,"

-she cooed; "an' I've spread the loaf same as you like, an' cut the

-bread thin, an' 'ere's one o' the roses you allers wears to breakfast;

-an' wouldn't your erming coat be a comfort, ma'am?"

-

-"Dear Little Cummins! How did you know I needed comfort? How did you

-guess I was homesick?"

-

-Robinette leaned her head against the housemaid's rough hand, always

-stained with black spots that would give way to no scrubbing. From

-morning to night she was in the coal scuttle or the grate or the

-saucer of black lead, for she did nothing but lay fires, light fires,

-feed fires, and tidy up after fires, for eight or nine months of the

-year.

-

-"You mustn't touch me, ma'am; I ain't fit; there's smut on me, an'

-hashes, this time o' day," said Little Cummins.

-

-"I don't care. I like you better with ashes than lots of people

-without. You mustn't stay in the coal scuttle all your life, Little

-Cummins; you must be my chambermaid some of these days when we can get

-a good substitute for Mrs. de Tracy. Would you like that, if the

-mistress will let you go?"

-

-Little Cummins put her apron up to her eyes, and from its depths came

-inarticulate bursts of gratitude and joy. Then peeping from it just

-enough to see the way to the door, she ran out like a hare and

-secluded herself in the empty linen-room until she was sufficiently

-herself to join the other servants.

-

-Robinette finished her breakfast and dressed. She had lacked courage

-to meet the family party, although she longed for a talk with Mark

-Lavendar. It was entirely normal, feminine, and according to all law,

-human and divine, but it appealed also to her sense of humour, that

-she should feel that this new man-friend could straighten out all the

-difficulties in the path. She waited patiently at her window until she

-saw him walk around the corner of the house, under the cedars, and up

-the twisting path, his head bent and bare, his hands in his pockets.

-Then she flung her blue cape over her shoulders and followed him.

-

-"Mr. Lavendar," she called, as she caught up with his slow step, "you

-said you would advise me a little. Let us sit on this bench a moment

-and find out how we can untangle all the knots into which Aunt de

-Tracy tied us yesterday. I am so afraid of her that I am sure I spoke

-timidly and respectfully to her at first; but perhaps I showed more

-feeling at the end than I should. I am willing to apologize to her for

-any lack of courtesy, but I don't see how I can retract anything I

-said."

-

-"It is hard for you," Lavendar replied, "because you have a natural

-affection for your mother's old nurse; and Mrs. de Tracy, I begin to

-believe, is more than indifferent to her. She has some active dislike,

-perhaps, the source of which is unknown to us."

-

-"But she is so unjust!" cried Robinette. "I never heard of an Irish

-landlord in a novel who would practice such a piece of eviction. If I

-must stand by and see it done, then I shall assert my right to provide

-for Nurse and move her into a new dwelling. After you left the drawing

-room last night, I begged as tactfully as I could that Aunt de Tracy

-would sell me some of the jewels, so that she need not part with the

-land at Wittisham. She was very angry, and wouldn't hear of it. Then I

-proposed buying the plum-tree cottage, that it might be kept in the

-family, and she was furious at my audacity. Perhaps the Admiral's

-niece is _not_ in the family."

-

-"She cannot endure anything like patronage, or even an assumption of

-equality," said Lavendar. "You must be careful there."

-

-"Should I be likely to patronize?" asked Robinette reproachfully.

-

-"No; but your acquaintance with your aunt is a very brief one, and she

-is an extraordinary character; hard to understand. You may easily

-stumble on a prejudice of hers at every step."

-

-"I shouldn't like to understand her any better than I do now," and

-Robinette pushed back her hair rebelliously.

-

-"Will you be my client for about five minutes?" asked Lavendar.

-

-"Yes, willingly enough, for I see nothing before me but to take Nurse

-Prettyman and depart in the first steamer for America."

-

-Mrs. Loring looked as if she were quite capable of this rather radical

-proceeding, and very much, too, as if any growing love for Lavendar

-that she might have, would easily give way under this new pressure of

-circumstances.

-

-"This is the situation in a nutshell," said Lavendar, filling his

-pipe. "Mrs. de Tracy is entirely within her legal rights when she asks

-Mrs. Prettyman to leave the cottage; legally right also when she

-declines to give compensation for the plum tree that has been a source

-of income; financially right moreover in selling cottage and land at a

-fancy price to find money for needed improvements on the estate."

-

-"None of this can be denied, I allow."

-

-"All these legal rights could have been softened if Mrs. de Tracy had

-been willing to soften them, but unfortunately she has been put on the

-defensive. She did not like it when I opposed her in the first place.

-She did not like it when my father advised her to make some small

-settlement, as he did, several days ago. She resented Mrs. Prettyman's

-assumption of owning the plum tree; she was outraged at your valiant

-espousing of your nurse's cause."

-

-"I see; we have simply made her more determined in her injustice."

-

-"Now it is all very well for you to show your mettle," Lavendar went

-on, "for you to endure your aunt's displeasure rather than give up a

-cause you know to be just; but look where it lands us."

-

-Robinette raised her troubled eyes to Lavendar's, giving a sigh to

-show she realized that her landing-place would be wherever the lawyer

-fixed it, not where she wished it.

-

-"Go on," she sighed patiently.

-

-"Your legal adviser regards it as impossible that you should come over

-from America and quarrel with your mother's family;--your only family,

-in point of fact. If this affair is fought to a finish you will feel

-like leaving your aunt's house."

-

-"I shouldn't have to wait for that feeling," said Robinette

-irrepressibly. "Aunt de Tracy would have it first!"

-

-"In such an event I could and would stand by you, naturally."

-

-"_Would_ you?" cried Robinette glowing instantly like a jewel.

-

-Lavendar looked at her in amazement. "Pray what do you take me for? On

-whose side could I, should I be, my dear--my dear Mrs. Loring? But to

-keep to business. In the event stated above, neither my father nor I

-could very well continue to have charge of the estate. That is a small

-matter, but increases the difficulties, owing to a long friendship

-dating back to the Admiral's time. Then we have Carnaby. Carnaby, my

-dear Mrs. Loring, belongs to you. Do you want to give him up? He

-adores you and you will have an unbounded influence on him, if you

-choose to exercise it."

-

-"How can I influence Carnaby--in America?"

-

-This was a blow, but Lavendar made no sign. "You may not always be in

-America," he said. "Now why not let Mrs. de Tracy sell the land and

-cottage and plum tree in the ordinary course of things? Oh, how I wish

-_I_ could buy the blessed thing!" he exclaimed, parenthetically.

-

-"Oh! how I wish _I_ could buy the plum tree, and keep it, always

-blossoming, in my morning-room!" sighed Robinette.

-

-"But unfortunately, Waller R. A. will buy the plum tree, confound him!

-Now, just after Mrs. de Tracy has definitely sold the premises and all

-their appurtenances, suppose you, in your prettiest and most docile

-way (docility not being your strong point!) ask your aunt if she has

-any objection to your taking care of Mrs. Prettyman during the few

-years remaining to her. Meantime keep her from irritating Mrs. de

-Tracy, and make the poor old dear happy with plans for her future. If

-you are short on docility you are long on making people happy!"

-

-"Never did I hear such an argument! It would make Macduff fall into

-the arms of Macbeth; it would tranquillize the Kilkenny cats

-themselves! I'll run in and apologize abjectly to my thrice guilty

-aunt, then I'll reward myself by going over to Wittisham."

-

-"If you'll take the ferry over, I'd like to come and fetch you if I

-may. That shall be my reward."

-

-"Reward for what?"

-

-"For giving you advice very much against my personal inclinations.

-Courses of action founded entirely on policy do not appeal to me very

-strongly."

-

-

-

-

-XX

-

-THE NEW HOME

-

-

-It was in rather a chastened spirit that Robinette set off to see Mrs.

-Prettyman. "I've been foolish, I've been imprudent; oh! dear me! I've

-still so much to learn!" she sighed to herself. "No good is ever done

-by losing one's temper; it only puts everything wrong. I shall have to

-try and take Mr. Lavendar's advice. I must be very prudent with Nurse

-this morning--never show her that I think Aunt de Tracy is in the

-wrong; just persuade her ever so gently to move to another home, and

-arrange with her where it is to be."

-

-It is always difficult for an impetuous nature like Robinette's to

-hold back about anything. She would have liked to run straight into

-Mrs. Prettyman's room, and, flinging her arms round the old woman's

-neck, cry out to her that everything was settled. And instead she

-must come to the point gently, prudently, wisely, "like other people"

-as she said to herself.

-

-The cottage seemed very still that afternoon, and Robinette knocked

-twice before she heard the piping old voice cry out to her to come

-in.

-

-"Why, Nurse dear, where are you? Were you asleep?" Robinette said as

-she entered, for Mrs. Prettyman was not sitting in the fine new chair.

-Then she found that the voice answered from the little bedroom off the

-kitchen, and that the old woman was in bed.

-

-"I ain't ill, so to speak, dear, just weary in me bones," she

-explained, as Robinette sat down beside her. "And Mrs. Darke, me

-neighbour, she sez to me, 'You do take the day in bed, Mrs. Prettyman,

-me dear, an' I'll do your bit of work for 'ee'--so 'ere I be, Missie,

-right enough."

-

-"I'm afraid you were worried yesterday," said Robinette; "worried

-about leaving the house."

-

-"I were, Missie, I were," she confessed.

-

-"That's why I came to-day; you must stop worrying, for I've settled

-all about it. I spoke to my aunt last night, and it's true that you

-have to leave this house; but now I've come to make arrangements with

-you about a new one."

-

-The old woman covered her face with her hands and gave a little cry

-that went straight to Robinette's heart.

-

-"Lor' now, Miss, 'ow am I ever to leave this place where I've been all

-these years? I thought yesterday as you said 'twas a mistake I'd

-made."

-

-"But alas, it wasn't altogether a mistake," Robinette had to confess

-sadly, her eyes filling with tears as she realized how she had only

-doubled her old friend's disappointment. Then she sat forward and took

-Mrs. Prettyman's hand in hers.

-

-"Nursie dear," she said, "I don't want you to grieve about leaving

-the old home, for it isn't an awfully good one; the new one is going

-to be ever so much better!"

-

-"That's so, I'm sure, dearie, only 'tis _new_," faltered Mrs.

-Prettyman. "If you're spared to my age, Missie, you'll find as new

-things scare you."

-

-"Ah, but not a new house, Nursie! Wait till I describe it! Everything

-strong and firm about it, not shaking in the storms as this one

-does; nice bright windows to let in all the sunshine; so no more

-'rheumatics' and no more tears of pain in your dear old eyes!"

-

-Robinette's voice failed suddenly, for it struck her all in a moment

-that her glowing description of the new home seemed to have in it

-something prophetic. That bent little figure beside her, these shaking

-limbs and dim old eyes,--all this house of life, once so carefully

-builded, was crumbling again into the dust, and its tenant indeed

-wanted a new one, quite, quite different! A sob rose in Robinette's

-throat, but she swallowed it down and went on gaily.

-

-"I've settled about another thing, too; you're to have another plum

-tree, or life wouldn't be the same thing to you. And you know they can

-transplant quite big trees now-a-days and make them grow wonderfully.

-Some one was telling me all about how it is done only a few days ago.

-They dig them up ever so carefully, and when they put them into the

-new hole, every tiny root is spread out and laid in the right

-direction in the ground, and patted and coaxed in, and made firm, and

-they just catch hold on the soil in the twinkle of an eye. Isn't it

-marvellous? Well, I'll have a fine new tree planted for you so

-cleverly that perhaps by next year you'll be having a few plums, who

-knows? And the next year more plums! And the next year, jam!"

-

-"'Twill be beautiful, sure enough," said the old woman, kindling at

-last under the description of all these joys. "And do you think,

-Missie, as the new cottage will really be curing of me rheumatics?"

-

-"Why yes, Nurse. Whoever heard of rheumatism in a dry new house?"

-

-"The house be new, but the rheumatics be old," said Mrs. Prettyman

-sagely.

-

-"Well, we can't make _you_ entirely new, but we'll do our best. I'm

-going to enquire about a nice cottage not very far from here; there's

-plenty of time before this one is sold. It shall be dry and warm and

-cosy, and you will feel another person in it altogether."

-

-"These new houses be terrible dear, bain't they?" the old woman said

-anxiously.

-

-"Not a bit; besides that's another matter I want to settle with you,

-Nursie. I'm going to pay the rent always, and you're going to have a

-nice little girl to help you with the work, and there will be

-something paid to you each month, so that you won't have any

-anxiety."

-

-"Oh, Missie, Missie, whatever be you sayin'? _Me_ never to have no

-anxiety again!"

-

-"You never shall, if I can help it; old people should never have

-worries; that's what young people are here for, to look after them and

-keep them happy."

-

-Mrs. Prettyman lay back on the pillow and gazed at Robinette

-incredulously; it wasn't possible that such a solution had come to all

-her troubles. For seventy odd years she had worked and struggled and

-sometimes very nearly starved and here was some one assuring her that

-these struggles were over forever, that she needn't work hard any

-more, or ever worry again. Could it be true? And all to come from Miss

-Cynthia's daughter!

-

-Robinette bent down and kissed the wrinkled old face softly.

-

-"Good-night, Nursie dear," she said. "I'm not going to stay any longer

-with you to-day, because you're tired. Have a good sleep, and waken up

-strong and bright."

-

-"Good-night, Missie, good-night, dear," the old woman said. Her face

-had taken on an expression of such peacefulness as it had never worn

-before.

-

-She turned over on her pillow and closed her eyes, scarcely waiting

-for Robinette to leave the room.

-

-"I've been allowed to do that, anyway," Robinette said to herself,

-standing in the doorway to look back at the quiet sleeper, and then

-looking forward to a little boat nearing the shore. The cottage

-sheltered almost the only object that connected her with her past; the

-boat, she felt, held all her future.

-

-                  *       *       *       *       *

-

-The river, when Lavendar rowed himself across it, was very quiet. "The

-swelling of Jordan," as Robinette called the rising tide, was over;

-now the glassy water reflected every leaf and twig from the trees that

-hung above its banks and dipped into it here and there.

-

-Mooring his boat at the landing, Mark sauntered up to Mrs. Prettyman's

-cottage, and having tapped lightly at the door to let Mrs. Loring

-know of his arrival, as they had agreed he should do, he went along

-the flagged pathway into the garden, and sat down on the edge of the

-low wall that divided it from the river. Just in front of him was the

-little worn bench where he had first seen Robinette as she sat beside

-her old nurse with the tiny shoe on her lap. It was scarcely a

-fortnight ago; yet it seemed to him that he could hardly remember the

-kind of man he had been that afternoon; a new self, full of a new

-purpose, and at that moment of a new hope, had taken the place of the

-objectless being he had been before.

-

-Everything was very still; there was scarcely a sound from the village

-or from the shipping farther down the river. Lavendar fancied he heard

-Robinette's clear voice within the cottage; then he started suddenly

-and the blood rushed to his heart as he listened to her light steps

-coming along the paved footpath.

-

-"Here you are!" she whispered. "Let us not speak too loud, for Nurse

-was just dropping asleep when I left her. I've put a table-cover and

-a blanket over 'Mrs. Mackenzie' to keep her from quacking. Mrs.

-Prettyman has not been very well, poor dear, and is in bed. We've just

-talked about the lovely new home she's going to have, and the

-transplanted plum tree; small, but warranted to bear in a year or two

-and give plums and jam like this one. I left her so happy!"

-

-She stopped and looked up. "Oh! can any new tree be as beautiful as

-this one? Was ever anything in the world more exquisite? It has

-just come to its hour of perfection, Mr. Lavendar; it couldn't

-last,--anything so lovely in a passing world."

-

-She sat down on the low wall, and looked up at the tree. It stood and

-shone there in its perfect hour. Another day, and the blossoms, too

-fully blown, would begin to drift upon the ground with every little

-shaking wind; now it was at its zenith, a miracle of such white beauty

-that it caused the heart to stop and consider. Bees and butterflies

-hummed and flew around it; it cast a delicate shadow on the grass, and

-leaning across the wall it was imaged again in the river like a bride

-in her looking-glass.

-

-Robinette sat gazing at the tree, and Lavendar sat gazing at her. At

-that moment he "feared his fate too much" to break the silence by any

-question that might shatter his hope, as the first breeze would break

-the picture that had taken shape in the glassy water beneath them.

-

-"I feel in a better temper now," said Robinette. "Who could be angry,

-and look at that beautiful thing? I've left dear old Nurse quite happy

-again, and I haven't yet offended Aunt de Tracy irrevocably, and all

-because you persuaded me not to be unreasonable. All the same I could

-do it again in another minute if I let myself go. Doesn't injustice

-ever make people angry in England?"

-

-Lavendar laughed. "It often makes me feel angry, but I've never found

-that throwing the reins on the horses' necks when they wanted to

-bolt, made one go along the right road any faster in the end."

-

-"I often think," said Robinette, "if we could see people really angry

-and disagreeable before we--" She hesitated and added, "get to know

-them well, we should be so much more careful."

-

-"Yes," said Mark, bending down his head and speaking very deliberately,

-"that's why I wish you could have seen me in all my worst moments.

-I'd stand the shame of it, if you could only know, but, alas, one

-can't show off one's worst moments to order; they must be hit upon

-unexpectedly."

-

-"I don't believe thirty years of life would teach one about some

-people--they are so _crevicey_," said Robinette musingly. She had

-risen and leaned against the plum tree for a moment, looking up

-through the white branches.

-

-Lavendar rose and stood beside her. "Thirty years--I shall be getting

-on to seventy in thirty years."

-

-A little gust of wind shook the tree; some petals came drifting down

-upon them, like white moths, like flakes of summer snow, a warning

-that the brief hour of perfection would soon be past ... and under it

-human creatures were talking about thirty years!

-

-

-

-

-XXI

-

-CARNABY CUTS THE KNOT

-

-

-That afternoon, Carnaby was having what he called "an absolutely

-mouldy time," and since his leave was running out and his remaining

-afternoons were few, he considered himself an injured individual.

-Robinette and Lavendar seemed for ever preoccupied either with each

-other or with some subject of discussion, the ins and outs of which

-they had not confided to him.

-

-"It's partly that blessed plum tree," he said to himself; "but of

-course they're spooning too. Very likely they're engaged by this time.

-Didn't I tell her she'd marry again? Well, if she must, it might as

-well be old Lavendar as anyone else. He's a decent chap, or he was,

-before he fell in love."

-

-Carnaby sighed. This effort of generosity towards his rival made him

-feel peculiarly disconsolate. He had fished and rowed on the river all

-the morning; he had ferreted; he had fed Rupert with a private

-preparation of rabbits which infallibly made him sick, the desired

-result being obtained with almost provoking celerity. Thus even

-success had palled, and Carnaby's sharp and idle wits had begun to

-work on the problem which seemed to be occupying his elders. Neither

-Robinette nor Lavendar could expatiate to the boy on his grandmother's

-peculiarities, but Carnaby had contrived to find out for himself how

-the land lay.

-

-"Why is Waller R. A. so keen on the plum tree?" he had enquired.

-

-"He wants to make a quartette of studies," answered Lavendar. "The

-Plum Tree in spring, summer, autumn, and winter."

-

-"What a rotten idea!" said Carnaby simply.

-

-"Far from rotten, my young friend, I can assure you!" Lavendar

-returned. "It will furnish coloured illustrations for countless

-summer numbers of the _Graphic_ and _The Lady's Pictorial_, and fill

-Waller R. A.'s pockets with gold, some of which will shortly filter in

-advance into the Stoke Revel banking account, we hope."

-

-"I'm not so sure about that!" said Carnaby; but he said it to himself,

-while aloud he only asked with much apparent innocence, "Waller R. A.

-wouldn't look at the cottage or the land without the plum tree, I

-suppose?"

-

-"Certainly not," Lavendar had answered. "The plum tree is safeguarded

-in the agreement as I'm sure no plum tree ever was before. Waller R.

-A.'s no fool!"

-

-Digesting this information and much else that he had gleaned, Carnaby

-now climbed to the top of a tree where he had a favourite perch, and

-did some serious and simple thinking.

-

-"It's a beastly shame," he said to himself, "to turn that old woman

-out of her cottage. Cousin Robin thinks it's a beastly shame, and

-what's more, Mark does, and he's a man, and a lawyer into the

-bargain."

-

-Carnaby thought remorsefully of a pot of jam which old Mrs. Prettyman

-had given him once to take back to college. What good jam it had

-been, and how large the pot! He had never given her anything--he had

-never a penny to bless himself with; and now his grandmother was

-taking away from the poor old creature all that she had. "It's

-regular covetousness," he thought, "and that infernal plum tree's at

-the bottom of it all. Naboth's vineyard is a joke in comparison, and

-What's-his-name and the one ewe lamb simply aren't in it." He grew

-hot with mortification. Then he reflected, "If the plum tree weren't

-there, Waller R. A. wouldn't want the cottage, and old Mrs. Prettyman

-could live in it till the end of the chapter." A slow grin dawned upon

-his face, its most mischievous expression, the one which Rupert with

-canine sagacity had learned to dread. He felt and pinched the

-muscle of his arm fondly. (_Mussle_ he always spelled the word

-himself, upon phonetic principles.)

-

-"I may be a fool and a minor" (generally spelt _miner_ by him), he

-said, as he climbed down from his perch, "but at least I can cut down

-a tree!"

-

-He became lost to view forthwith in the workshops and tool-sheds

-attached to the home premises of Stoke Revel, and presently emerged,

-furnished with the object he had made diligent and particular search

-for; this he proceeded to carry in an inconspicuous way to a distant

-cottage where he knew there was a grindstone. He spent a happy hour

-with the object, the grindstone, and a pail of water. _Whirr_,

-_whirr_, _whirr_, sang the grindstone, now softly, now loudly--"_this

-is an axe, an axe, an axe, and a strong arm that holds it_!"

-

-"You be goin' to do a bit of forestry on your own, Master Carnaby,

-eh?" suggested the grinning owner of the grindstone.

-

-"I am; a very particular bit, Jones!" replied the young master,

-lovingly feeling the edge of the tool, which was now nearly as fine as

-that of a razor.

-

-"You be careful, sir, as you don't chop off one of your own toes with

-that there axe," said the man. "It be full heavy for one o' your age.

-But there! you zailor-men be that handy! 'Tis your trade, so to

-speak!"

-

-"Quite right, Jones, it is!" replied Carnaby. "Good-afternoon and

-thank you for the use of the grindstone." He was already planning

-where he would hide the axe, for he had precise ideas about everything

-and left nothing to chance.

-

-Carnaby went to bed that night at his usual hour. His profession had

-already accustomed him to awaking at odd intervals, and he had more

-than the ordinary boy's knowledge of moon and tide, night and dawn.

-When he slipped out of bed after a few hours of sound sleep, he put on

-a flannel shirt and trousers and a broad belt, and then, carrying his

-boots in his hand, crept out of his room and through the sleeping

-house. He would much rather have climbed out of the window, in a

-manner more worthy of such an adventure, but his return in that

-fashion might offer dangers in daylight. So he was content with an

-unfrequented garden door which he could leave on the latch.

-

-The moon, which had been young when she lighted the lovers in the

-mud-bank adventure, was now a more experienced orb and shed a useful

-light. Carnaby intended to cross the river in a small tub which was

-propelled by a single oar worked at the stern, the rower standing.

-This craft was intended for pottering about the shore; to cross the

-river in it was the dangerous feat of a skilled waterman, but Carnaby

-had a knack of his own with every floating thing. As he balanced

-himself in the rocking tub, bare-headed, bare-necked, bare-armed,

-paddling with the grace and ease of strength and training, he looked

-a man, but a man young with the youth of the gods. The moon shone in

-his keen grey eyes and made them sparkle. A cold sea-wind blew up the

-river, but he did not feel its chill, for blood hot with adventure

-raced in his veins.

-

-Wittisham was in profound darkness when he landed, and the moon having

-gone behind a bank of cloud, he had to grope his way to Mrs.

-Prettyman's cottage, shouldering the axe. The isolated position of the

-house alone made the adventure possible, he reflected; he could not

-have cut down a tree in the hearing of neighbours, and as to old

-Elizabeth herself, he hoped she was deaf. Most old women were, he

-reflected, except unfortunately his grandmother!

-

-Soon he was entering the little garden and sniffing the scent of

-blossom, which was very strong in the night air. He could see the dim

-outline of the plum tree, and just as he wanted light, the moon came

-out and shone upon its whiteness, giving a sort of spiritual beauty

-to the flowering thing that was very exquisite.

-

-"What price, Waller R. A. now?" thought Carnaby impishly. "The plum

-tree in moonlight! eh? Wouldn't he give his eyes to see it! But he

-won't! Not if I know it!" The boy was as blind to the tree's beauty as

-his grandmother had been, but he had scientific ideas how to cut it

-down, for he had watched the felling of many a tree.

-

-First, standing on a lower branch, you lopped off all the side shoots

-as high as you could reach. This made the trunk easy to deal with, and

-its fall less heavy, and Carnaby set to work.

-

-"She goes through them all as slick as butter!" he said to himself in

-high satisfaction. The axe had assumed a personality to him and was

-"she," not "it." "She makes no more noise than a pair of scissors

-cutting flowers; not half so much!" he said proudly. Branch after

-branch fell down and lay about the tree like the discarded garments of

-a bathing nymph. The petals fell upon Carnaby's face, upon his hair

-and shoulders; he was a white figure as he toiled. Frightened birds

-and bats flew about, but he did not notice them. His only care was the

-cottage itself and its inmate. If _she_ should awake! But the little

-habitation, shrouded in thatch and deep in shadow, was dark and silent

-as the grave.

-

-"She must be sound asleep and deaf," thought the boy. "Yes, very

-deaf." He paused. The first stage in his task was accomplished.

-Shivering and naked, one absurd tuft of blossom and leaves at the

-tip--the murdered tree now stood in the moonlight, imploring the _coup

-de grâce_ which should end its shame.

-

-"Jolly well done," said the murderer complacently. He stretched his

-arms, looked at the palms of his hands to see if they had blistered,

-and addressed himself to the second part of his business. Thud! thud!

-went the axe on the trunk of the tree, and the sweat broke out all

-over Carnaby's skin, not with exertion but with nervous terror.

-

-"If that doesn't wake the dead!" he thought--but there was no awaking

-in the cottage. Its tiny window blinked in the moonlight, and Carnaby

-thought he heard the drowsy quack of a duck in an out-house. But the

-danger passed. Thud! went the axe again. The slim severed shaft of the

-tree was poised a moment, motionless, erect before it fell. Then it

-subsided gently among its broken and trodden boughs, and Carnaby's

-task was done.

-

-

-

-

-XXII

-

-CONSEQUENCES

-

-

-Early that morning before the sun had risen, when the light was still

-grey in the coming dawn, Robinette was awakened by a bird that called

-out from a tree close to her open window, every note like the striking

-of a golden bell. She jumped up and looked out, but the little singer,

-silenced, had flown away. Instead, she caught sight of a figure

-stealing across the lawn towards the side door which opened from the

-library. Even in the dim light she could distinguish that it was

-Carnaby, Carnaby with something in his hand. What he carried she could

-not quite make out, but the sleeves of his flannel shirt were rolled

-up above his elbows in a fatally business-like way, and he walked with

-an air of stealth.

-

-"What mischief can that boy have been up to at this time of day?"

-thought Robinette as she lay down again, but she was too sleepy to

-wonder long.

-

-She forgot all about it until she saw Carnaby at the breakfast table

-some hours later. Sometimes the gloom of that meal--never a favorite

-or convivial one in the English household, and most certainly neither

-at Stoke Revel--would be enlivened by some of the boy's pranks. He

-would pass over to the sideboard, pepper-pot slyly in hand, and

-Rupert, whose meal at this hour consisted of grape-nuts and cream,

-would unaccountably sneeze and snuffle over his plate.

-

-"Bless it, Bobs!" his tormentor would exclaim tenderly. "Is it

-catching cold? Poor old Kitchener! Hi! _Kitch!_ _Kitch!_" (like a

-violent sneeze) and the outraged Rupert would forget grape-nuts and

-pepper alike in a fit of impotent fury. But this morning the dog fed

-in peace and Carnaby never glanced at him or his basin. Robinette,

-looking at the boy and remembering where she had seen him last,

-noticed that he was rather silent, that his cheeks were redder than

-common, and that under his eyes were lines of fatigue not usually

-there.

-

-"What were you doing on the lawn at four o'clock this morning?" she

-began, but checked herself, suddenly thinking that if Carnaby had been

-up to mischief she must not allude to it before his grandmother.

-

-No one had heard her. The meal dragged on. Robinette and Lavendar

-talked little. Miss Smeardon was preoccupied with the sufferings and

-the moods of Rupert. Mrs. de Tracy alone seemed in better spirits than

-usual; she was talkative and even balmy.

-

-"The work at the spinney begins to-day," she observed complacently,

-addressing herself to Lavendar and alluding to the rooting up of an

-old copse and the planting of a new one--an improvement she had long

-planned, though hitherto in vain. "The young trees have arrived."

-

-"But where is the money to come from?" enquired Carnaby suddenly, in

-a sepulchral tone. (His voice was at the disagreeable breaking stage,

-an agony and a shame to himself and always a surprise to others.) His

-grandmother stared: the others, too, looked in astonishment at the

-boy's red face.

-

-"I thought it had all been explained to you, Carnaby," said Mrs. de

-Tracy, "but you take so little interest in the estate that I suppose

-what you have been told went in at one ear and out at the other, as

-usual! It is the sale of land at Wittisham which makes these

-improvements possible, advantages drawn from a painful necessity," and

-the iron woman almost sighed.

-

-"There won't be any sale of land at Wittisham,--at least, not of Mrs.

-Prettyman's cottage," said Carnaby abruptly.

-

-"It is practically settled. The transfers only remain to be signed;

-you know that, Carnaby," said Lavendar curtly. He did not wish the

-vexed question to be raised again at a meal.

-

-"It _was_ practically settled--but it's all off now," said the boy,

-looking hard at his grandmother. "Waller R. A. won't want the place

-any more. The bloomin' plum tree's gone--cut down. The bargain's off,

-and old Mrs. Prettyman can stay on in her cottage as long as she

-likes!"

-

-There was a freezing silence, broken only by the stertorous breathing

-of Rupert on Miss Smeardon's lap.

-

-"Repeat, please, what you have just said, Carnaby," said his

-grandmother with dangerous calmness, "and speak distinctly."

-

-"I said that the cottage at Wittisham won't be sold because the plum

-tree's gone," repeated Carnaby doggedly. "It's been cut down."

-

-"How do you know?"

-

-"I've seen it." Carnaby raised his eyes. "I cut it down myself," he

-added, "this morning before daylight."

-

-"Who put such a thing into your head?" Mrs. de Tracy's words were ice:

-her glance of suspicion at Robinette, like the cold thrust of steel.

-"Who told you to cut the plum tree down?"

-

-"My conscience!" was Carnaby's unexpected reply. He was as red as

-fire, but his glance did not falter. Mrs. de Tracy rose. Not a muscle

-of her face had moved.

-

-"Whatever your action has been, Carnaby," she said with dignity--"whether

-foolish and disgraceful, or criminal and dangerous, it cannot be

-discussed here. You will follow me at once to the library, and

-presently I may send for Mark. A lawyer's advice will probably be

-necessary," she added grimly.

-

-Carnaby said not a word. He opened the door for his grandmother and

-followed her out; but as he passed Robinette, he looked at her

-earnestly, half expecting her applause; for one of the motives in his

-boyish mind had certainly been to please her--to shine in her eyes as

-the doer of bold deeds and to avenge her nurse's wrongs. And all that

-he had managed was to make her cry!

-

-For Robinette had put her elbows on the table and had covered her eyes

-with her hands. As he left the room, Carnaby could hear her

-exclamation:--

-

-"To cut down that tree! That beautiful, beautiful, fruitful thing! O!

-how could anyone do it?"

-

-So this was justice; this was all he got for his pains! How

-unaccountable women were!

-

-Lavendar awaited some time his summons to join Mrs. de Tracy and her

-grandson in what seemed to him must be a portentous interview enough,

-trying meanwhile somewhat unsuccessfully to console Mrs. Loring for

-the destruction of the plum tree, and exchanging with her somewhat

-awe-struck comments on the scene they had both just witnessed. No

-summons came, however; but half an hour later, he came across Carnaby

-alone, and an interview promptly ensued. He wanted to plumb the depth

-of the boy-mind and to learn exactly what motives had prompted

-Carnaby to this sudden and startling action in the matter of the plum

-tree.

-

-"Had you a bad quarter of an hour with your grandmother?" was his

-first question. Carnaby, he thought, looked subdued, and not much

-wonder.

-

-The boy hesitated.

-

-"Not so bad as I expected," was his answer. "The old lady was

-wonderfully decent, for her. She gave me a talking to, of course."

-

-"I should hope so!" interpolated Lavendar drily.

-

-"She jawed away about our poverty," continued Carnaby. "She's got

-that on the brain, as you know. She said that this loss of the

-money--Waller R. A.'s money, she means, of course--is an awful blow.

-She _said_ it was, but it seemed to me--" Carnaby paused, looking

-extremely puzzled.

-

-"It seemed to you--?" prompted Lavendar encouragingly.

-

-"That she wasn't so awfully cut up, after all," said Carnaby. "She

-seemed putting it on, if you know what I mean." Lavendar pricked up

-his ears. Mrs. de Tracy's intense reluctance to sell the land recurred

-to him in a flash. To get her consent had been like drawing a tooth,

-like taking her life-blood drop by drop. Could it be that she was not

-very sorry after all that the scheme had fallen through, secretly

-glad, indeed? It was conceivable that this was Mrs. de Tracy's view,

-but her grandson's motive was still obscure.

-

-"Why did you do it, Carnaby?" Lavendar asked with kindness and gravity

-both in his voice. "You have committed a very mischievous action, you

-know, one that would have borne a harsher name had the transfers been

-signed and had the plum tree changed hands."

-

-"But then I shouldn't have done it--you--you juggins, Mark!" cried the

-boy. "I've no earthly grudge against Waller R. A. If he'd actually

-bought the tree, it would have been too late, and his beastly

-money--"

-

-"You need the money, you know," remarked Lavendar. "Remember that, my

-young friend!"

-

-"It would have been dirty money!" said Carnaby, with a sudden

-flash that lit up his rather heavy face with a new expression.

-"You and Cousin Robin have been jolly polite when you thought I was

-listening, but _I_ know what you really thought, and the kind of

-things you were saying to one another about this business! You

-thought it beastly mean to take the cottage away from old Lizzie

-in the way it was being done, and sheer robbery to deprive her of

-the plum tree without paying her for it. I quite agreed with you

-there, and if I felt like that, do you think I could sit still and

-let the money come in to Stoke Revel--money that had been got in

-such a way? What do you take me for?" Lavendar was silent, looking

-at the boy in surprise. "Oh," continued Carnaby, "how I wish I were

-of age! Then I could show Cousin Robin, perhaps, what an English

-landlord can be! I mean that he can be a friend to his tenants, and

-kind and generous as well as just. As it is, Cousin Robin will go

-back to America and tell her friends what selfish brutes we are

-over here, and how jolly glad she was to get away!"

-

-"Mrs. Loring will carry no tales, I am sure," said Lavendar. "But tell

-me, my dear fellow, did you imagine that Mrs. Prettyman would be a

-gainer by your action?"

-

-"Well, why not?" answered the boy. "Didn't you tell me yourself that

-Waller R. A. wouldn't look at the cottage without the tree? What's to

-prevent the old woman living on where she is? Do you think there'll be

-a rush of new tenants for that precious old hovel? Go on! You know

-better than that!"

-

-"But the tree, Carnaby, the plum tree!" cried Lavendar. "My young

-Goth, hadn't you a moment's compunction? That beautiful, flowering

-thing, as your cousin called it; could you destroy it without a

-pang?"

-

-"The _tree_?" echoed Carnaby with unmeasured scorn. "What's a tree?

-It's just a tree, isn't it?"

-

-                    "A primrose by a river's brim

-                    A yellow primrose was to him,

-                    And it was nothing more!"

-

-quoted Mark, despairingly.

-

-"Well; and what more did he expect of a primrose, whoever the Johnny

-was?" asked the contemptuous Carnaby.

-

-"At any rate," commented Lavendar, "it isn't necessary to search as

-far as Peter Bell for an analogy for your character, my young friend!

-You are your grandmother's grandson after all!"

-

-"In some ways I suppose I can't help being," answered Carnaby soberly,

-"but not in all," he added, and suddenly turning red he fumbled in his

-pocket and produced a coin which he held out to Lavendar. "It's only

-ten bob," he said apologetically, "and I wish it was a jolly sight

-more! But please give it to old Mrs. Prettyman to make up a bit for

-the loss of her plums. Daresay I'll manage some more by and by.

-Anyway, I'll make it up to her when I come of age.--I'm nearly sixteen

-already, you know. Be sure you tell her that!"

-

-But Lavendar refused to take the money.

-

-"Mrs. Prettyman is provided for, my boy," he said. "She has become

-your cousin's especial care. You need have no fear about that. The

-poor old woman is very happy and will have a cottage more suited for

-her rheumatism and her general feebleness than the present one. But I

-think your cousin will understand your motives and believe that you

-meant well by old Lizzie in your little piece of midnight madness."

-

-"Though I was a bit rough on the plum tree!" said Carnaby, with a

-broad smile.

-

-"You think it's a laughing matter?" Lavendar asked indignantly. "I

-wish you had my father to deal with, and Waller R. A.! It's all very

-well for you."

-

-But Carnaby only laughed. The blood was still hot in his veins, and

-the joy of his night's adventure. Mark told him that he and Mrs.

-Loring were crossing the river at once to see for themselves the

-extent of his mischief and what effect it had had upon old Mrs.

-Prettyman. Carnaby observed with diabolical meaning that as he had not

-been invited to join the party, he would make himself scarce.

-Gooseberries, he said, were very good fruit, but he wasn't fond of

-them; so he lounged off with his hands in his pockets. Suddenly he

-turned. "See here, old Mark! You'll speak a word for me with Cousin

-Robin, won't you? It's hard on me to have her hate me when I was

-trying to do my best to please her."

-

-"She won't hate you; she couldn't hate anybody," said Lavendar

-absently, watching first the door and then the window.

-

-"You say that because you're in love with her! I've a couple of eyes

-in my head, stupid as you all think me. You can deny it all you like,

-but you won't convince me!"

-

-"I shan't deny it, Carnaby. I am so much in love with her at this

-moment that the room is whirling round and round and I can see two of

-you!"

-

-"Poor old Mark! Do you think she'll take you on?"

-

-"Can't say, Carnaby!"

-

-"You're a lucky beggar if she does; that's my opinion!" said the boy.

-

-"Put it as strong as you like, Carnaby," Lavendar answered. "You can't

-exaggerate my feelings on that subject!"

-

-"If you hadn't fifteen years' start of me I'd give you a run for your

-money!" exclaimed Carnaby with a daring look.

-

-

-

-

-XXIII

-

-DEATH AND LIFE

-

-

-While these incidents were taking place at the Manor House, village

-life at Wittisham had been stirring for hours. Thin blue threads of

-smoke were rising from the other cottages into the windless air: only

-from Nurse Prettyman's there was none. Duckie in the out-house quacked

-and gabbled as she had quacked and gabbled since the light began, yet

-no one came to let her out and feed her. The halfpenny jug of milk had

-been placed on the doorstep long ago, but Mrs. Prettyman had not yet

-opened the door to take it in.

-

-Outside in the garden, where the plum tree stood yesterday, there was

-now only a stump, hacked and denuded, and round about it a ruin of

-broken branches, leaves, and scattered blossoms. Over the wreck the

-bees were busy still, taking what they could of the honey that

-remained; and in the air was the strong odour of juicy green wood and

-torn bark.

-

-The children who brought the milk were the first to discover what had

-happened, and very soon the news spread amongst the other cottagers.

-Then came two neighbours to the scene, wondering and exclaiming. They

-went to the door, but Mrs. Prettyman did not answer their knock or

-their calling. Mrs. Darke looked in through the tiny window.

-

-"She be sleepin' that peaceful in 'er bed in there," she said, "it 'ud

-be a shame to wake 'er. She's deaf now, and belike she never 'eard the

-tree come down, 'ooever's done it. But I'll go and see after Duckie:

-she's makin' noise enough to rouse 'er, anyway."

-

-Then Duckie was released and fed and departed to gabble her wrongs to

-the other white ducks that were preening themselves amongst the deep

-green grass of the adjacent orchard.

-

-"You can 'ear that bird a mile away--she's never done talking!" said

-Mrs. Darke as the indignant gabble grew fainter in the distance. "But

-'ere's my old man a-come to look at the plum tree. Wonder what he'll

-say to it? This be a queer job, sure enough!"

-

-Old Darke, on two sticks, hobbled towards the scene of desolation with

-grunts of mingled satisfaction and dismay. 'Twas a rare sensation,

-though a pity, to be sure!

-

-Mrs. Darke stood by the well at the turn of the road, keeping a sharp

-eye on the cottage while she gossiped with the neighbour who was

-filling her pitcher. She did not want to miss the sight of Mrs.

-Prettyman's face when she opened her door and found out what had

-happened.

-

-"She be sleepin' too long; I'll go and waken her in a minute," said

-Mrs. Darke. "'Tis but right she should be told what's come to 'er

-tree, poor thing."

-

-Then a beggar woman selling bootlaces came along the shore of the

-river; she mounted the cottage steps and the gossips watched her

-trailing up the pathway in her loose old shoes, and knocking at the

-door. She waited for a few minutes: there was no answer, so she turned

-away resignedly and trailed off along the sun-lit lane, in-shore,

-leaving the garden gate swinging to and fro.

-

-"There's summat the matter!" Mrs. Darke had just whispered with

-evident enjoyment, when some one else was seen approaching the cottage

-from the direction of the pier. It was the young lady from the Manor,

-this time. She wore a white dress and a green scarf, and her face was

-tinted with colour. She looked like a young blossoming tree herself,

-all lacy white and pale green, a strange morning vision in a

-work-a-day world! Robinette ran quickly up the pathway and knocked at

-the door, but there was no answer to her knock. She called out in her

-clear voice:--

-

-"Good morning, Nurse! Good morning! Aren't you ready to let me in?

-It's quite late!" But there was no answer to her call. She was just

-trying to open the door, which seemed to be locked, when a gentleman

-came up from the boat and followed her to the cottage. That, the women

-who were watching her thought quite natural, for surely such a young

-lady would be followed by a lover wherever she went! Indeed, Mrs.

-Darke said so.

-

-"'Tis in that there kind," she observed philosophically, "like the

-cuckoo and the bird that follows; never sees one wi'out the other!"

-

-"'Tis quite that way, Mrs. Darke," agreed the neighbour, approvingly.

-

-Robinette turned a white face to Lavendar as he approached.

-

-"Nurse won't answer, and I can't get in!" she cried. "Something must

-have happened. I--I'm afraid to go in alone. The door is locked,

-too."

-

-"It's not locked," said Lavendar, and exerting a little strength, he

-pushed it open and gave a quick glance inside. "I'll go in first," he

-said gently. "Wait here."

-

-He came again to the threshold in a few minutes, a peculiar expression

-on his face which somehow seemed to tell Robinette what had happened.

-

-"Come in, Mrs. Robin," he said very gravely and gently. "You need not

-be afraid."

-

-Robinette instinctively held out her hand to him and they entered the

-little room together.

-

-She need not have feared for the old woman's distress over the ruined

-plum tree, for nothing would ever grieve Nurse Prettyman again. Just

-as she had lain down the night before, she lay upon her bed now,

-having passed away in her sleep. "And they that encounter Death in

-sleep," says the old writer, "go forth to meet him with desire." The

-aged face was turned slightly upwards and wore a look of contentment

-and repose that made life seem almost gaudy; a cheap thing to compare

-with this attainment....

-

-Robinette came out of the cottage a little later, leaving the

-neighbours who had gathered in the room to their familiar and not

-uncongenial duties. She went into the garden, where Mark Lavendar

-awaited her. He longed to try to comfort her; indeed, his whole heart

-ran out to her in a warmth and passion that astounded him; but her

-pale face, stained with weeping, warned him to keep silence yet a

-little while.

-

-"I just came for one branch of the blossom," Robinette said, "if it is

-not all withered. Yes, this is quite fresh still." She took a little

-spray he had found for her and stood holding it as she spoke. "Only

-yesterday it was all so lovely! Oh! Mr. Lavendar, I needn't cry for my

-old Nurse, I'm sure! How should I, after seeing her face? She had come

-to the end of her long life, and she was very tired, and now all that

-is forgotten, and she will never have a moment of vexation about her

-tree. I don't know why I should cry for her; but oh, how could

-Carnaby destroy that beautiful thing!"

-

-"It was a genuine though mistaken act of conscience! You must not be

-too hard on Carnaby!" pleaded Lavendar. "He would not touch the money

-that was to come from the sale of Mrs. Prettyman's cottage under the

-circumstances, so it seemed best to him that the sale should not take

-place, and he prevented it in the directest and simplest way that

-occurred to him. It's like some of the things that men have done to

-please God, Mrs. Robin," Mark added, smiling, "and thought they were

-doing it, too! But Carnaby only wanted to please you!"

-

-"To _please_ me!" exclaimed Robinette, looking round her at the ruin

-before them. "Oh dear!" she sighed, "how confusing the world is, at

-times! I am just going to take this snowy branch and lay it on Nurse's

-pillow. She so loved her tree! See; it's quite fresh and beautiful,

-and the dew still upon it, just like tears!"

-

-"That seemed just right," said Robinette softly as she came out into

-the sunshine again, a few minutes later. "I laid the blossoms in her

-kind old tired hands, the hands that have known so much work and so

-many pains. It is over, and after all, her new home is better than any

-I could have found for her!"

-

-The two walked slowly down the little garden on their way to the gate.

-As they passed, old Mr. Darke, who had hobbled around again to have

-another look at the fallen tree, addressed Lavendar solemnly.

-

-"Best tree in Wittisham 'e was, sir," touching the ruin of the

-branches as he spoke. "'Ooever could ha' thought o' sich a piece of

-wickedness as to cut 'im down? Murder, I calls it! 'Tis well as Mrs.

-Prettyman be gone to 'er rest wi'out knowledge of it; 'twould 'ave

-broken her old 'eart, for certain sure!"

-

-"It nearly breaks mine to see it now, Mr. Darke!" said Robinette in a

-trembling voice. But the old labourer bent down, moving his creaking

-joints with difficulty and steadying himself upon his sticks till he

-could touch the stump of the tree with his rough but skilful hands. He

-pushed away the long grass that grew about the roots and looked up at

-Robinette with a wise old smile.

-

-"'Tisn't dead and done for yet, Missy, never fear!" he said. "Give 'im

-time; give 'im time! 'E's cut above the graft--see! 'E'll grow and

-shoot and bear blossom and fruit same as ever 'e did, given time. See

-to the fine stock of 'im; firm as a rock in the good ground! And the

-roots, they be sound and fresh. 'E'll grow again, Missy; never you

-cry!"

-

-Robinette looked so beautiful as she lifted her luminous eyes and

-parted lips to old Darke, and then turned to him with a gesture of

-hope and joy, that again Lavendar could hardly keep from avowing his

-love; but the remembrance of the old nurse's still shape in the little

-cottage hushed the words that trembled on his lips.

-

-

-

-

-XXIV

-

-GRANDMOTHER AND GRANDSON

-

-

-The disagreeable duty of announcing Mrs. Prettyman's death to the lady

-of the Manor now lay before Lavendar and his companion, and the

-thought of it weighed upon their spirits as they crossed the river.

-Carnaby also must be told. How would he take it? Robinette, still

-under the shock of the plum tree's undoing, expected perhaps some

-further exhibition of youthful callousness, but Lavendar knew better.

-

-In their concern and sorrow, the young couple had forgotten all minor

-matters such as meals, and luncheon had long been over when they

-reached the house. They could see Mrs. de Tracy's figure in the

-drawing room as they passed the windows, occupying exactly her usual

-seat in her usual attitude. It was her hour for reading and

-disapproving of the daily paper.

-

-Robinette and Lavendar entered quietly, but nothing in the gravity of

-their faces struck Mrs. de Tracy as strange.

-

-"I have a disturbing piece of news to give you," Mark began, clearing

-his throat. "Mrs. Prettyman died last night in her cottage at

-Wittisham."

-

-The erect figure in the widow's weeds remained motionless. Perhaps the

-old hand that lowered the newspaper trembled somewhat, so that its

-diamonds quivered a little more than usual.

-

-"So Mrs. Prettyman is dead?" she said. Then, as the young people stood

-looking at her with an air of some expectancy, she added with a sour

-glance, "Do you expect me to be very much agitated by the news?"

-

-"The death was unexpected," began Lavendar lamely.

-

-"She was seventy-five; my age!" said Mrs. de Tracy with a wintry

-smile. "Is death at seventy-five so unexpected an event?"

-

-Lavendar said nothing; he had nothing to say, and Robinette for

-the same reason was silent. She was gazing at her aunt, almost

-unconsciously, with a wondering look. "At any rate," continued Mrs.

-de Tracy, addressing her niece, "your _protégée_ has been fortunate

-in two ways, Robinette. She will neither be turned out of her

-cottage nor see the destruction of her plum tree. By the way--"

-with a perfectly natural change of tone, dismissing at once both

-Mrs. Prettyman and Death--"the plum tree _is_ down, I suppose? You

-saw it?"

-

-"Very much down!" answered Lavendar. "And certainly we saw it! Carnaby

-does nothing by halves!"

-

-A slight change, a kind of shade of softening, passed over Mrs. de

-Tracy's stern features, as the shadow of a summer cloud may pass over

-a rocky hill. She turned suddenly to Robinette. "Can you tell me on

-your word of honour that you had nothing to do with Carnaby's action;

-that you did not put it into his head to cut the plum tree down!"

-

-"I?" exclaimed Robinette, scarlet with indignation. "_I?_ Why--do you

-want to know what I think of the action? I think it was perfectly

-brutal, and the boy who did it next door to a criminal! There!"

-

-Mrs. de Tracy seemed convinced by the energy of this disclaimer. "I

-have always considered yours a very candid character," she observed

-with condescension. "I believe you when you say that you did not

-influence Carnaby in the matter, though I strongly suspected you

-before."

-

-"Well, upon my word!" ejaculated Robinette when they had got out of

-the room, too completely baffled to be more original. "What does she

-mean? Has any one ever understood the workings of Aunt de Tracy's

-mind?"

-

-"Don't come to me for any more explanations! I've done my best for my

-client!" cried Lavendar. "I give up my brief! I always told you Mrs.

-de Tracy's character was entirely singular."

-

-"Let us hope so!" commented Robinette with energy. "I should be sorry

-for the world if it were plural!"

-

-                  *       *       *       *       *

-

-Carnaby was not in the house, and Lavendar proceeded to look for him

-out of doors. He knew the boy was often to be found in a high part of

-the grounds behind the garden, where he had some special resort of his

-own, and he went there first. The afternoon had clouded over, and a

-slight shower was falling, as Mark followed the wooded path leading up

-hill. A rock-garden bordered it, where ferns and flowers were growing,

-each one of which seemed to be contributing some special and delicate

-fragrance to the damp, warm air. The beech trees here had low and

-spreading branches which framed now and again exquisite glimpses of

-the river far below and the wooded hills beyond it.

-

-Lavendar had not gone far when he found Carnaby, Carnaby intensely

-perturbed, walking up and down by himself.

-

-"You don't need to tell me!" said the boy, with a quick and agitated

-gesture of the hand. "Bates told me. Old Mrs. Prettyman's dead!" His

-merry, square-set face was changed and looked actually haggard, and

-his eyes searched Lavendar's with an expression oddly different from

-their usual fearless and straightforward one. They seemed afraid. "Was

-it my grandmother's--was it our fault?" he asked. "I, I feel like a

-murderer. Upon my soul, I do!"

-

-"Don't encourage morbid ideas, my dear fellow!" said Lavendar in a

-matter-of-fact tone. "There's trouble enough in the world without

-foolish exaggeration. Mrs. Prettyman was 'grave-ripe,' as she often

-said to your cousin; a very feeble old woman, whose time had come. The

-doctor's certificate will tell you how rheumatism had affected her

-heart, and the neighbours would very soon set your mind at rest by

-describing the number of times poor old Lizzie had nearly died

-before."

-

-"Think of it, though!" said Carnaby with wondering eyes. "Think of her

-lying dead in the cottage while I hacked and hewed at the plum tree

-just outside! By Jove! it makes a fellow feel queer!" He shuddered.

-The picture he evoked was certainly a strange one enough: a strange

-picture in the moonlight of a night in spring; the doomed beauty of

-the blossoming tree, the blind, headstrong human energy working for

-its destruction, and Death over all, stealthy and strong!

-

-"What an ass I was!" said Carnaby, summing up the situation in the

-only language in which he could express himself. "Sweating and stewing

-and hacking away--thinking myself so awfully clever! And all the time

-things ... things were being arranged in quite a different manner!"

-

-"We are often made to feel our insignificance in ways like this,"

-said Lavendar. "We are very small atoms, Carnaby, in the path of the

-great forces that sweep us on."

-

-"I should rather think so!" assented the wondering boy. "And yet, can

-a fellow sit tight all the time and just wait till things happen?"

-

-"Ask me something else!" suggested Lavendar ironically.

-

-There was a short pause. "I'm awfully sorry old Mrs. Prettyman's

-dead," Carnaby said in a very subdued tone. "I meant to do a lot for

-her, to try and make up for my grandmother's being such a beast." He

-stopped short, and to Lavendar's astonishment, his face worked, and

-two tears squeezed themselves out of his eyes and rolled over his

-round cheeks as they might have done over a baby's. "It's the j-jam I

-was thinking of," he sniffed. "Once a pal of mine and I were playing

-the fool in old Mrs. Prettyman's garden, pretending to steal the

-plums, and giving her duck bits of bread steeped in beer to make it

-s-squiffy (a duck can be just as drunk as a chap). She didn't mind a

-bit. She was a regular old brick, and gave us a jolly good tea and a

-pot of jam to take away.... And now she's dead and--and...." Carnaby's

-feelings became too much for him again, and a handkerchief that had

-seen better and much cleaner days came into play. Lavendar flung an

-arm round the boy's shoulder.

-

-"This kind of regret comes to us all, Carnaby," he said. "I don't

-suppose there's a man with a heart in his breast who hasn't sometime

-had to say to himself, I might have done better: I might have been

-kinder: it's too late now! But it's never too late!" added Lavendar

-under his breath--"not where Love is!"

-

-The shower was over, and though the sun had not come out, a pleasant

-light lay upon the river as the friends walked down; upon the river

-beyond which old Lizzie Prettyman was sleeping so peacefully, the

-sleep of kings and beggars, and just and unjust, and rich and poor

-alike. Carnaby had dried his eyes but continued in a pensive mood.

-

-"Cousin Robin's still angry with me about the tree," he said,

-uncertainly.

-

-"She won't be angry long!" Lavendar assured him. "You and your Cousin

-Robin are going to be firm friends, friends for life."

-

-Carnaby seemed a good deal comforted. "Mind you don't tell her I

-blubbered!" he said in sudden alarm. "Swear!"

-

-"She wouldn't think a bit the worse of you for that!" said Lavendar.

-

-"Swear, though!" repeated Carnaby in deadly earnest.

-

-And Lavendar swore, of course.

-

-                  *       *       *       *       *

-

-But an influence very unlike Lavendar's and a spirit very different

-from Robinette's enfolded Carnaby de Tracy in his home and fought, as

-it were, for his soul. That night, after the last lamp had been put

-out by the careful Bates, and after Benson had bade a respectful

-good-night to her mistress, a light still burned in Mrs. de Tracy's

-room. Presently, carried in her hand, it flitted out along the silent

-passages, past rows of doors which were closed upon empty rooms or

-upon unconscious sleepers, till it came to Carnaby's door; to the

-Boys' Room, as that far-away and most unluxurious apartment had always

-been called. Mrs. de Tracy was making a pilgrimage to the shrine of

-one of her gods. She opened the door, and closing it gently behind

-her, she stood beside Carnaby's bed and looked at him, intently and

-haggardly.

-

-Mrs. de Tracy's was a singular character, as Mark Lavendar had said.

-The circumstances of her widowhood with its heavy responsibilities had

-perhaps hardly been fair to her. There had been little room for the

-kindlier and softer feelings, though it is to be feared that they

-would not have found much congenial soil in her heart. The personal

-selfishness in her had long been merged in the greater and harder

-selfishness of caste; she had become a mere machine for the keeping up

-of Stoke Revel.

-

-But to-night she was moved by the positively human sentiment which had

-been stirred in her by Carnaby's startling act of cutting the plum

-tree down. Ah! let fools believe if they could that she was angry with

-the boy! She had never felt anger less or pride more. While others

-talked and argued, shilly-shallied, made love, muddled and made

-mistakes, her grandson, the man of the race that always ruled, had cut

-the knot for himself, without hesitation and without compunction,

-without consulting anyone or asking anyone's leave. That was the way

-the de Tracys had always acted. And it seemed to Mrs. de Tracy a

-crowning coincidence, a fitting kind of poetical justice, that

-Carnaby's action should actually have prevented the sale of the land;

-that dreaded, detestable sale of the first land that the de Tracys

-had held upon the banks of the river.

-

-So, since Carnaby was to be a man of the right kind, his grandmother

-had come to look at him, not in love, as other women come to such

-bedsides, but in pride of heart. The boy, after his "white night" at

-Wittisham and the varied emotions of the succeeding day, lay on his

-side, in the deep, recuperative sleep of youth whence its energies are

-drawn and in which its vigors are renewed. His round cheek indented

-the pillow, his rumpled hair stirred in the breeze that blew in at the

-window, his arm and his open hand, relaxed, lay along the sheet.

-Another woman would have straightened the bed-clothes above him;

-another might have touched his hair or hand; another kissed his cheek.

-But not even because he was like her departed husband, like the man

-who five and fifty years before had courted a certain cold and proud,

-handsome and penniless Miss Augusta Gallup, would Mrs. de Tracy do

-these things. She had had her sensation, such as it was, her secret

-moment of emotion, and was satisfied. She left the room as she had

-come, the candle casting exaggerated shadows of herself upon the walls

-where Carnaby's bats and fishing rods and sporting prints hung.

-

-It is sad to be old as Mrs. de Tracy was old, but her age was of her

-own making, a shrinkage of the heart, a drying up of the wells of

-feeling that need not have been.

-

-"I should be better out of the way," her bitterness said within her,

-and alas! it was true. Her great, gaunt room seemed very lonely, very

-full of shadows when she returned to it. Rupert, who always slept at

-her bedside, awaited her. Disturbed at this unwonted hour, he stirred

-in his basket, wheezed and gurgled, turned round and round and could

-not get comfortable, whined, and looked up in his mistress's face. She

-stood watching him with a sort of grim pity, and, strangely enough,

-bestowed upon him the caress she had not found for her grandson.

-

-"Poor Rupert! You are getting too old, like your mistress! Your

-departure, like hers, will be a sorrow to no one!" Rupert seemed to

-wheeze an asthmatical consent, and presently he snuggled down in his

-basket and went to sleep.

-

-

-

-

-XXV

-

-THE BELLS OF STOKE REVEL

-

-

-On Sunday morning Robinette and Lavendar were both ready for church,

-by some strange coincidence, half an hour too soon. He was standing at

-the door as she came down into the hall. Mrs. de Tracy and Miss

-Smeardon were nowhere to be seen; even Carnaby was invisible, but the

-shrill, infuriated yelping of the Prince Charles from the drawing room

-indicated his whereabouts only too plainly.

-

-"We're much too early," said Robinette, glancing at the clock.

-

-"Shall we walk through the buttercup meadow, then--you and I?" asked

-Lavendar. His voice was low, and Robinette answered very softly. She

-wore a white dress that morning without a touch of colour.

-

-"I couldn't wear black to-day for Nurse," she said, in answer to his

-glance, "but I couldn't wear any colour, either."

-

-"You're as white as the plum tree was!" said Lavendar. "I remember

-thinking that it looked like a bride." Robinette made no reply. He

-ventured to look up at her as he spoke, and she was smiling although

-her lip quivered and her eyes were full of tears. Lavendar's heart

-beat uncomfortably fast as they walked through the meadow towards the

-stile which led into the churchyard.

-

-"It's too soon to go in yet," he said. "The bells haven't begun."

-

-"Let's stop here. It's cool in the shadow," said Robinette. She leaned

-on the wall and looked out at the shining reaches of the river. "The

-swelling of Jordan is over now," she said with a little smile and a

-sigh. "The tide has come up, and how quiet everything is!"

-

-The water mirrored the hills and the ships and the gracious sky above

-them. There was scarcely a sound in the air. At the point where they

-stood, the Manor House was hidden from view, and only the squat old

-tower of the church was visible, and the yew tree rising above the

-wall against the golden field. A bush of briar covered with white

-roses hung above them, just behind Robinette, and Lavendar looking at

-her in this English setting on an English Sunday morning, wondered to

-himself, as he had so often done before, if she could ever make this

-country her home.

-

-"Yet she has English blood as well as I," he thought. "Why, the very

-name on the old bells of the church there, records the memory of an

-ancestress of hers! We cannot be so far apart." Looking at her

-standing there, he rehearsed to himself all that he meant to say, oh,

-a great many things both true and eloquent, but at that moment every

-word forsook him. Yet this was probably the best opportunity he would

-have of telling her what was burning in his heart: telling her how she

-had beguiled him at first by her quick understanding and her

-frolicsome wit, because all that sort of thing was so new to him. She

-had come like a mountain spring to a thirsty man. He had been groping

-for inspiration and for help: now he seemed to find them all in her.

-She was so much more than charming, though it was her charm that first

-impressed him; so much more than pretty, though her face attracted him

-at first; so much more than magnetic, though she drew him to her at

-their first meeting with bonds as delicate as they were strong. These

-were tangible, vital, legitimate qualities--but were they all? Could

-lips part so, could eyes shine so, could voice tremble so, if there

-were not something underneath; a good heart, fidelity, warmth of

-nature?

-

-"For the first time," he thought, "I long to be worthy of a woman. But

-I would not tell her how I love her at this moment, unless I felt I

-need not be wholly unequal to her demands. I have never desired

-anything strongly enough to struggle for it, up to now; but she has

-set my springs in motion, and I can work for her until I die!"

-

-All this he thought, but never a word he said. Then the church clock

-struck and the clashing bells began. They shook the air, the earth,

-the ancient stones, the very nests upon the trees, and sent the rooks

-flying black as ink against the yellow buttercups in the meadow.

-

-"We must go, in a few minutes," said Robinette. "Oh, will you pull me

-some of those white roses up there?"

-

-Lavendar swung himself up and drawing down a bunch he pulled off two

-white buds.

-

-"Will you take them?" he asked, holding them out to her. Then suddenly

-he said, very low and very humbly, "Oh, take me too; take me,

-Robinette, though no man was ever so unworthy!"

-

-Robinette laid the roses on the wall beside her.

-

-"For my part," she said, turning to Lavendar with a little laugh that

-was half a sob; "for my part, I like giving better than taking!" She

-put both her hands in his and looked into his face. "Here is my

-life," she said simply. "I want to belong to you, to help you, to live

-by your side."

-

-"I oughtn't to take you at your word," he said, his voice choked with

-emotion. "You are far too good for me!"

-

-"Hush," Robinetta answered, putting a finger on his lip; "it isn't a

-question of how great you are or how wonderful: it's a question of

-what we can be to each other. I'd rather have you than the Duke of

-Wellington or Marcus Aurelius, and I believe you wouldn't change me

-for Helen of Troy!"

-

-"I have nothing to bring you, nothing," said Lavendar again, "nothing

-but my love and my whole heart."

-

-"If all the kingdoms of the earth were offered to me instead, I would

-still take you and what you give me," Robinette answered.

-

-Lavendar laid his cheek against her bright hair and sighed deeply. In

-that sigh there passed away all former things, and behold, all things

-became new. Two cuckoos answered each other from opposite banks of the

-river and two hearts sang songs of joy that met and mingled and

-floated upward.

-

-Again the bells broke out overhead, filling the air with music that

-had rung from them ever since just such another morning hundreds of

-years before, when they rang their first peal from the church tower,

-bearing the legend newly cut upon them: "Pray for the Soul of Anne de

-Tracy, 1538." And Anne de Tracy's memory was forgotten--so long

-forgotten--except for the bells that carried her name!

-

-Yet in these same meadows that she must have known, spring was come

-once more. The Devonshire plum trees had budded and blossomed and shed

-their petals year after year, and year after year, since the bells

-first swung in the air; and now Hope was born once again, and Youth,

-and Love, which is immortal!

-

-

-

-

-The Riverside Press

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-REBECCA of SUNNYBROOK FARM

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-"The legitimate successor of 'Helen's Babies.'"--_Clara Louise

-Burnham._

-

-"A classic in the literature of childhood."--_San Francisco

-Chronicle._

-

-"Mrs. Wemyss is a formidable rival to E. Nesbit, who hitherto has

-stood practically alone as a charmingly humorous interpreter of child

-life."--_Chicago Inter-Ocean._

-

-"A charming, witty, tender book."--_Kate Douglas Wiggin._

-

-"It is a sunny, warm-hearted humorous story, that leaves the reader

-with a sense of time well spent in its perusal."--_Brooklyn Eagle._

-

-HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY

-

-BOSTON AND NEW YORK

-

-

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-<pre>

-

-The Project Gutenberg EBook of Robinetta, by 

-Kate Douglas Wiggin and Mary Findlater and Jane Findlater and Allan McAulay

-

-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: Robinetta

-

-Author: Kate Douglas Wiggin

-        Mary Findlater

-        Jane Findlater

-        Allan McAulay

-

-Release Date: September 25, 2009 [EBook #30090]

-

-Language: English

-

-Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1

-

-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROBINETTA ***

-

-

-

-

-Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed

-Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net

-

-

-

-

-

-

-</pre>

-

-

-<div class='figtag'>

-<a name='linki_1' id='linki_1'></a>

-</div>

-<div class='figcenter'>

-<img src='images/illus-cvr.jpg' alt='' title='' width='362' height='565' /><br />

-</div>

-<h1>ROBINETTA</h1>

-<hr class='pb' />

-<div class="container">

-<div class="box">

-<p class='tp' style='font-size:1.4em;margin-bottom:10px;'>By Kate Douglas Wiggin</p>

-<hr class='p10' />

-<p class='kdw'>ROBINETTA. Illustrated. 12mo, $1.10 <i>net</i>. Postage, 10 cents.</p>

-<p class='kdw'>REBECCA OF SUNNYBROOK FARM. Holiday Edition. Illustrated. Crown 8vo, $1.50.</p>

-<p class='kdw'>SUSANNA AND SUE. Illustrated by <span class='smcap'>Alice Barber Stephens</span>. Crown 8vo, $1.50 <i>net</i>. Postage 15 cents.</p>

-<p class='kdw'>THE OLD PEABODY PEW. With decorations and illustrations. Large crown 8vo, $1.50.</p>

-<p class='kdw'>REBECCA OF SUNNYBROOK FARM. 12mo, $1.25.</p>

-<p class='kdw'>NEW CHRONICLES OF REBECCA. Illustrated by F. C. <span class='smcap'>Yohn</span>. 12mo, $1.25.</p>

-<p class='kdw'>ROSE O&rsquo; THE RIVER. Illustrated in color. 12mo, 1.25.</p>

-<p class='kdw'>THE AFFAIR AT THE INN. Illustrated. 12mo, $1.25.</p>

-<p class='kdw'>THE DIARY OF A GOOSE GIRL. Illustrated. 12mo, $1.00.</p>

-<p class='kdw'>A CATHEDRAL COURTSHIP, AND PENELOPE&rsquo;S ENGLISH EXPERIENCES. Illustrated. 16mo, $1.00.</p>

-<p class='kdw'>PENELOPE&rsquo;S PROGRESS. 16mo, $1.25.</p>

-<p class='kdw'>PENELOPE&rsquo;S IRISH EXPERIENCES. 16mo, $1.25.</p>

-<p class='kdw'>PENELOPE&rsquo;S EXPERIENCES. I. England; II. Scotland; III. Ireland; <i>Holiday Edition</i>. With many illustrations by <span class='smcap'>Charles E. Brock</span>. 3 vols., each 12mo, $2.00; the set, $6.00.</p>

-<p class='kdw'>A CATHEDRAL COURTSHIP. <i>Holiday Edition</i>, enlarged. Illustrated by C. E. <span class='smcap'>Brock</span>. 12mo, $1.50.</p>

-<p class='kdw'>THE BIRDS&rsquo; CHRISTMAS CAROL. Illustrated. Square 12mo, 50 cents.</p>

-<p class='kdw'>THE STORY OF PATSY. Illustrated. Square 12mo, 60 cents.</p>

-<p class='kdw'>A SUMMER IN  A CAÑON. A California Story. Illustrated. 16mo, $1.25. </p>

-<p class='kdw'>TIMOTHY&rsquo;S QUEST. A Story for Anybody, Young or Old, who cares to read it. 16mo, $1.00. <i>Holiday Edition.</i> Illustrated. Crown 8vo, $1.50.</p>

-<p class='kdw'>POLLY OLIVER&rsquo;S PROBLEM. Illustrated. 16mo, $1.00. In Riverside School Library. 60 cents, <i>net</i>; postpaid.</p>

-<p class='kdw'>THE VILLAGE WATCH-TOWER. 16mo, $1.00.</p>

-<p class='kdw'>MARM LISA. 16mo, $1.00.</p>

-<p class='kdw'>NINE LOVE SONGS, AND A CAROL. Music by Mrs. <span class='smcap'>Wiggin</span>. Words by <span class='smcap'>Herrick, Sill</span>, and others. Square 8vo, $1.25.</p>

-<p class='tp' style='margin-top:10px;'>HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY</p>

-<p class='tp' style='font-variant:small-caps;'>Boston and New York</p>

-</div>

-</div>

-<hr class='pb' />

-<div class='figtag'>

-<a name='linki_2' id='linki_2'></a>

-</div>

-<div class='figcenter'>

-<img src='images/illus-fpc.jpg' alt='' title='' width='362' height='595' /><br />

-</div>

-<hr class='pb' />

-<div class='figtag'>

-<a name='linki_3' id='linki_3'></a>

-</div>

-<div class='figcenter'>

-<img src='images/illus-tpg.jpg' alt='' title='' width='362' height='600' /><br />

-</div>

-<hr class='pb' />

-<p class='tp' style='font-size:smaller;margin-bottom:10px;margin-top:20px;'>COPYRIGHT, 1910 AND 1911, BY KATE DOUGLAS RIGGS<br />COPYRIGHT, 1911, BY HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY</p>

-<p class='tp' style='font-size:smaller;margin-bottom:10px;'>ALL RIGHTS RESERVED</p>

-<p class='tp' style='font-size:smaller;margin-bottom:20px;'><i>Published February 1911</i></p>

-<hr class='pb' />

-<h3>CONTENTS</h3>

-<table border='0' cellpadding='2' cellspacing='0' summary='Contents' style='margin:1em auto;'>

-<tr>

-  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>I.</td>

-  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>The Plum Tree</span></td>

-  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#I_THE_PLUM_TREE'>1</a></td>

-</tr>

-<tr>

-  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>II.</td>

-  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>The Manor House</span></td>

-  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#II_THE_MANOR_HOUSE'>7</a></td>

-</tr>

-<tr>

-  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>III.</td>

-  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Young Mrs. Loring</span></td>

-  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#III_YOUNG_MRS_LORING'>19</a></td>

-</tr>

-<tr>

-  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>IV.</td>

-  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>A Chilly Reception</span></td>

-  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#IV_A_CHILLY_RECEPTION'>29</a></td>

-</tr>

-<tr>

-  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>V.</td>

-  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>At Wittisham</span></td>

-  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#V_AT_WITTISHAM'>39</a></td>

-</tr>

-<tr>

-  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>VI.</td>

-  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Mark Lavendar</span></td>

-  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#VI_MARK_LAVENDAR'>54</a></td>

-</tr>

-<tr>

-  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>VII.</td>

-  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>A Cross-Examination</span></td>

-  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#VII_A_CROSSEXAMINATION'>69</a></td>

-</tr>

-<tr>

-  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>VIII.</td>

-  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Sunday at Stoke Revel</span></td>

-  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#VIII_SUNDAY_AT_STOKE_REVEL'>87</a></td>

-</tr>

-<tr>

-  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>IX.</td>

-  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Points of View</span></td>

-  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#IX_POINTS_OF_VIEW'>99</a></td>

-</tr>

-<tr>

-  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>X.</td>

-  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>A New Kinsman</span></td>

-  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#X_A_NEW_KINSMAN'>113</a></td>

-</tr>

-<tr>

-  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XI.</td>

-  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>The Sands at Weston</span></td>

-  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XI_THE_SANDS_AT_WESTON'>127</a></td>

-</tr>

-<tr>

-  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XII.</td>

-  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Love in the Mud</span></td>

-  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XII_LOVE_IN_THE_MUD'>151</a></td>

-</tr>

-<tr>

-  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XIII.</td>

-  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Carnaby to the Rescue</span></td>

-  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XIII_CARNABY_TO_THE_RESCUE'>170</a></td>

-</tr>

-<tr>

-  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XIV.</td>

-  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>The Empty Shrine</span></td>

-  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XIV_THE_EMPTY_SHRINE'>181</a></td>

-</tr>

-<tr>

-  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XV.</td>

-  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>&ldquo;Now Lubin Is Away&rdquo;</span></td>

-  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XV_NOW_LUBIN_IS_AWAY'>194</a></td>

-</tr>

-<tr>

-  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XVI.</td>

-  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Two Letters</span></td>

-  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XVI_TWO_LETTERS'>210</a></td>

-</tr>

-<tr>

-  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XVII.</td>

-  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Mrs. de Tracy crosses the Ferry</span></td>

-  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XVII_MRS_DE_TRACY_CROSSES_THE_FERRY'>217</a></td>

-</tr>

-<tr>

-  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XVIII.</td>

-  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>The Stoke Revel Jewels</span></td>

-  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XVIII_THE_STOKE_REVEL_JEWELS'>234</a></td>

-</tr>

-<tr>

-  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XIX.</td>

-  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Lawyer and Client</span></td>

-  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XIX_LAWYER_AND_CLIENT'>250</a></td>

-</tr>

-<tr>

-  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XX.</td>

-  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>The New Home</span></td>

-  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XX_THE_NEW_HOME'>260</a></td>

-</tr>

-<tr>

-  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XXI.</td>

-  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Carnaby Cuts the Knot</span></td>

-  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XXI_CARNABY_CUTS_THE_KNOT'>273</a></td>

-</tr>

-<tr>

-  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XXII.</td>

-  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Consequences</span></td>

-  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XXII_CONSEQUENCES'>284</a></td>

-</tr>

-<tr>

-  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XXIII.</td>

-  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Death and Life</span></td>

-  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XXIII_DEATH_AND_LIFE'>299</a></td>

-</tr>

-<tr>

-  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XXIV.</td>

-  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Grandmother and Grandson</span></td>

-  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XXIV_GRANDMOTHER_AND_GRANDSON'>309</a></td>

-</tr>

-<tr>

-  <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XXV.</td>

-  <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>The Bells of Stoke Revel</span></td>

-  <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XXV_THE_BELLS_OF_STOKE_REVEL'>324</a></td>

-</tr>

-</table>

-<hr class='pb' />

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_1' name='page_1'></a>1</span></div>

-<h2>ROBINETTA</h2>

-<div class='chsp' style='padding-top:0'>

-<a name='I_THE_PLUM_TREE' id='I_THE_PLUM_TREE'></a>

-<h2>I</h2>

-<h3>THE PLUM TREE</h3>

-</div>

-<p>At Wittisham several of the little houses

-had crept down very close to the river. Mrs.

-Prettyman&rsquo;s cottage was just like a hive

-made for the habitation of some gigantic

-bee; its pointed roof covered with deep,

-close-cut thatch the colour of a donkey&rsquo;s hide.

-There were small windows under the overhanging

-eaves, a pathway of irregular flat

-stones ran up to the doorway, and a bit of

-low wall divided the tiny garden from the

-river. The Plum Tree grew just beside

-the wall, so near indeed that it could look

-at itself on spring days when the water

-was like a mirror. In autumn the branches

-on that side of the tree were the first to be

-shaken, lest any of the fruit should fall down

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_2' name='page_2'></a>2</span>

-and be lost. Sometimes a village child treading

-cautiously on bare toes amongst the

-stones along the narrow margin, would

-pounce upon a plum with a squeal of joy,

-for although the village was surrounded with

-orchards, the fruit of Mrs. Prettyman&rsquo;s tree

-had a flavour all its own.</p>

-<p>The tree had been given to her by a

-nephew who was a gardener in a great fruit

-orchard in the North, and her husband had

-planted and tended it for years. It began life

-as a slender thing with two or three rods of

-branches, that looked as if the first wind of

-winter would blow it away, but before the

-storms came, it had begun to trust itself to

-the new earth, and to root itself with force

-and determination. There were good soil

-and water near it, and plenty of sunshine,

-and, as is the way of Nature, it set itself to

-do its own business at all seasons, unlike the

-distracted heart of man. The traffic of the

-river came and went; around the headland

-the big ships were steering in, or going out

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_3' name='page_3'></a>3</span>

-to sea; and in the village the human life

-went on while the Plum Tree grew high

-enough to look over the wall. Its stem by

-that time had a firm footing; next it took a

-charming bend to the side, and then again

-threw out new branches in that direction. It

-turned itself from the prevailing wind, throwing

-a new grace into its attitude, and went

-on growing; returning in blossom and leaves

-and fruit an hundredfold for all that it received

-from the earth and the sun.</p>

-<p>In spring it was enchanting; at first, before

-the blossoms came out, with small bright

-leaves, and buds like pearls, heaped upon

-the branches; then, later, when the whole

-tree was white, imaged like a bride, in the

-looking-glass of the river. It only wanted

-a nightingale to sing in it by moonlight.

-There were no nightingales there, but the

-thrushes sang in the dawning, and the little

-birds whose voices were sweet and thin chirruped

-about it in crowds, while the larks,

-trilling out the ardour of mating time, sometimes

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_4' name='page_4'></a>4</span>

-rose from their nests in the grass and

-soared over its topmost branches on their

-skyward flight.</p>

-<p>Spring, therefore, was its merriest time,

-for then every passer-by would cry, &ldquo;What

-a beautiful tree!&rdquo; or &ldquo;Did ye ever see the

-likes of it?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>There were a few days of inevitable sadness

-a little later when its million petals fell

-and made a delicate carpet of snow on the

-ground. There they lay in a kind of fairy

-ring, as if there had been a shower of

-mother-of-pearl in the April night; and no

-human creature would have dared set a vandal

-foot on that magic circle, and mar the perfection

-of its beauty. All the same the Plum

-Tree had lost its petals, and that was hard

-to bear at first. But though its Wittisham

-neighbours often said to summer trippers, &ldquo;I

-wish you could have seen it in blossom!&rdquo; the

-Plum Tree did not repine, because of the

-secrets&ndash;&ndash;the thousand, thousand secrets&ndash;&ndash;it

-held under its leaves. &ldquo;The blossoms were

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_5' name='page_5'></a>5</span>

-but a promise,&rdquo; it thought, &ldquo;and soon everybody

-will see the meaning of them.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Then the tiny green globes began to appear

-on every branch and twig; crowding,

-crowding, crowding till it seemed as if there

-could never be room for so many to grow;

-but the weaker ones fell from the boughs or

-were blown away when the wind was fierce,

-so the Plum Tree felt no anxiety, knowing

-that it was built for a large family! The little

-green globes grew and grew, and drank

-in sweet mother-juices, and swelled, and

-when the summer sun touched their cheeks

-all day they flushed and reddened, till when

-August came the tree was laden with purpling

-fruit; fruit so tempting that its rosy

-beauty had sometimes to be hidden under

-a veil of grey fishing net, lest the myriad

-bird-friends it had made during the summer

-should love it too much for its own

-good.</p>

-<p>So the Plum Tree grew and flourished,

-taking its part in the pageant of the seasons,

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_6' name='page_6'></a>6</span>

-unaware that its existence was to be interwoven

-with that of men; or that creatures

-of another order of being were to owe some

-changes in their fortunes to its silent obedience

-to the motive of life.</p>

-<hr class='toprule' />

-<div class='chsp'>

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_7' name='page_7'></a>7</span>

-<a name='II_THE_MANOR_HOUSE' id='II_THE_MANOR_HOUSE'></a>

-<h2>II</h2>

-<h3>THE MANOR HOUSE</h3>

-</div>

-<p>The long, low drawing room of the Manor

-at Stoke Revel was the warmest and most

-genial room in the old Georgian house. It

-was four-windowed and faced south, and

-even on this morning of a chilly and backward

-spring, the tentative sunshine of April

-had contrived to put out the fire in the steel

-grate. One of the windows opened wide to

-the garden, and let in a scent which was less

-of flowers than of the promise of flowers&ndash;&ndash;a

-scent of earth and green leaves, of the leafless

-daphne still a-bloom in the shrubbery,

-of hyacinths and daffodils and tulips and

-primroses still sheathed in their buds and

-awaiting a warmer air.</p>

-<p>But this promise of spring borne into the

-room by the wandering breeze from the river,

-was nipped, as it were, by the frigid spirit of

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_8' name='page_8'></a>8</span>

-age and formalism in its living occupants.

-Mrs. de Tracy, a lady of seventy-five, sat at her

-writing-table. Her companion, Miss Smeardon,

-a person of indeterminate age, nursed

-the lap-dog Rupert during such time as her

-employer was too deeply engaged to fulfil

-that agreeable duty. Mrs. de Tracy, as she

-wrote, was surrounded by countless photographs

-of her family and her wide connection,

-most prominent among them two&ndash;&ndash;that of

-her husband, Admiral de Tracy, who had died

-many years ago, and that of her grandson,

-his successor, whose guardian she was, and

-whose minority she directed. Her eldest son,

-the father of this boy, who had died on his

-ship off the coast of Africa; his wife, dead

-too these many years; her other sons as

-well (she had borne four); their wives and

-children&ndash;&ndash;grown men, fashionable women,

-beautiful children, fat babies: the likenesses

-of them all were around her, standing amid

-china and flowers and bric-a-brac on the

-crowded tables and what-nots of the not inharmonious

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_9' name='page_9'></a>9</span>

-and yet shabby Victorian room.

-Mrs. de Tracy, it might at a glance be seen,

-was no innovator, either in furniture, in

-dress, or probably in ideas. As she was dressed

-now, in the severely simple black of a widow,

-so she had been dressed when she first

-mourned Admiral de Tracy. The muslin ends

-of her widow&rsquo;s cap fell upon her shoulders,

-and its border rested on the hard lines of

-iron-grey hair which framed a face small,

-pale, aquiline in character and decidedly

-austere in expression.</p>

-<p>She took one from a docketed pile of letters

-and held it up under her glasses, the

-sun suddenly striking a dazzle of blue and

-green from the diamond rings on her small,

-withered hands. Then she read it aloud to her

-companion in an even and chilly voice. She

-had read it before, in the same way, at the

-same hour, several times. The letter, couched

-in an epistolary style largely dependent upon

-underlining, appeared to contain, nevertheless,

-some matter of moment. It was dated

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_10' name='page_10'></a>10</span>

-from Eaton Square, in London, some weeks

-before, and signed Maria Spalding. (&ldquo;Her

-mother was a Gallup,&rdquo; Mrs. de Tracy would

-say, if any one asked who Maria Spalding

-was; and this was considered sufficient, for

-Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s maiden name had been

-Gallup,&ndash;&ndash;not euphonious but nevertheless

-aristocratic.)</p>

-<hr class='tb' />

-<p><span class='smcap'>My dear Augusta</span> (Maria Spalding

-wrote): I am going to ask you to help me

-out of a <i>difficulty</i>. There is no <i>use</i> beating

-about the bush. You know that Cynthia&rsquo;s

-daughter Robinetta (Loring is her <i>married</i>

-name) has been with me for a month. <i>American</i>

-or no <i>American</i>, I meant to have had

-her for a part of the season, and to <i>present</i>

-her, if possible (so <i>good</i> for these Americans

-to learn what royalty <i>is</i> and to breathe the

-atmosphere which doth hedge a <i>King</i> as

-Shakespeare says, and which they can never

-<i>have</i>, of course, in a country like theirs). I

-know you can&rsquo;t <i>approve</i>, dear Augusta, and

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_11' name='page_11'></a>11</span>

-you will blame me for sentimentality&ndash;&ndash;but

-I never <i>can</i> forget what a <i>sweet</i> creature

-Cynthia was before she ran away with that

-odious American&ndash;&ndash;and my <i>greatest</i> friend

-in girlhood, too, you must remember. So

-Robinette, as she is generally called, has come

-to my house as a <i>home</i>, but a most <i>unlucky</i>

-thing has happened. I have had influenza so

-badly that it has affected my <i>heart</i> (an old

-trouble), I am ordered to Nauheim, and Robinette

-is <i>stranded</i>, poor dear. She has few

-friends in London and certainly none who

-can put her up. Tho&rsquo; she <i>is</i> a widow, she is

-only twenty-two (just <i>imagine</i>!), very pretty,

-and really, tho&rsquo; you won&rsquo;t believe it, <i>quite</i>

-nice. I am <i>desperate</i>, and just wondering if

-you would let by-gones be by-gones, and

-receive her at Stoke Revel. She has set her

-heart upon seeing the place, and some <i>picture</i>

-she was called after (I can&rsquo;t remember it, so

-it can&rsquo;t be one of the <i>famous</i> Stoke Revel

-group&ndash;&ndash;a <i>copy</i>, I fancy), and on paying a

-visit to Lizzie Prettyman, her mother&rsquo;s old

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_12' name='page_12'></a>12</span>

-nurse at Wittisham over the river. She <i>promised</i>

-her mother she would do this&ndash;&ndash;and

-such a promise is <i>sacred</i>, don&rsquo;t you think?

-It&rsquo;s such an <i>old</i> story now, Cynthia&rsquo;s American

-marriage, and no fault of <i>Robinette&rsquo;s</i>,

-poor dear child. Her wish is almost a <i>pious</i>

-one, don&rsquo;t you agree, to pay respect to her

-mother&rsquo;s memory and the family, and is <i>much</i>

-to be encouraged in these days of radicalism,

-when every natural tie is loosened and people

-pay no more <i>respect</i> to their parents than

-if they hadn&rsquo;t any, but had made themselves

-and brought themselves up from the beginning.

-So don&rsquo;t you think it&rsquo;s a <i>good</i> thing

-to encourage the <i>right</i> kind of feeling in

-Robinette, especially as she is an <i>American</i>,

-you know....</p>

-<hr class='tb' />

-<p>Mrs. de Tracy paused, and replaced the

-letter in the package from which she had

-withdrawn it.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Maria Spalding&rsquo;s point of view,&rdquo; she

-observed, &ldquo;has, I confess, helped me to overcome

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_13' name='page_13'></a>13</span>

-the extreme reluctance I felt to receive

-the child of that American here. Cynthia

-de Tracy&rsquo;s elopement nearly broke my dear

-husband&rsquo;s heart. She was the apple of his eye

-before our marriage; so much younger than

-himself that she was like his child rather than

-his sister.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;What a shock it must have been!&rdquo; murmured

-the companion. &ldquo;What ingratitude!

-Can you really receive her child? Of course

-you know best, Mrs. de Tracy; but it seems

-a risk.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Hardly a risk,&rdquo; rejoined Mrs. de Tracy

-with dignity. &ldquo;But it is a trial to me, and

-an effort that I scarcely feel called upon to

-make.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Miss Smeardon was so well versed in her

-duties that she knew she always had to urge

-her employer to do exactly what she most

-wanted to do, and the poor creature had developed

-a really wonderful ingenuity in divining

-what these wishes were. Just now, however,

-she was, to use a sporting phrase, &ldquo;at

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_14' name='page_14'></a>14</span>

-fault&rdquo; for a minute. She could not exactly

-tell whether Mrs. de Tracy wanted to be

-urged to ask her niece to Stoke Revel, or

-whether she wanted to be supplied with a

-really plausible excuse for not doing so.

-Those of you who have seen a hound at fault

-can imagine the companion at this moment:

-irresolute, tense, desperately anxious to find

-and follow up the right scent. Compromise,

-that useful refuge, came to her aid.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It <i>is</i> difficult to know,&rdquo; she faltered.

-Then Mrs. de Tracy gave her the lead.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Maria Spalding is right when she says

-that my husband&rsquo;s niece contemplates a duty

-in visiting Stoke Revel,&rdquo; she announced.

-&ldquo;The young woman is the lawful daughter

-of Cynthia de Tracy that was: our solicitors

-could never discover anything dubious in

-the marriage, though we long suspected it.

-Therefore, though I never could have invited

-her here, I admit that the Admiral&rsquo;s niece

-has a right to come, in a way.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Though her maiden name was Bean!&rdquo;

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_15' name='page_15'></a>15</span>

-ejaculated the companion, almost under her

-breath. &ldquo;There are Pease in the North, as

-everyone knows; perhaps there are Beans

-somewhere.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;There have never been Beans,&rdquo; said Mrs.

-de Tracy solemnly and totally unconscious

-of a pun. &ldquo;Look for yourself!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Miss Smeardon did not need to rise from

-her seat and fetch Burke: it lay always close

-at hand. She merely lifted it on to her knee

-and ran her finger down the names beginning

-with B-e-a.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Beaton, Beare, Beatty, Beale&ndash;&ndash;&rdquo; she

-read out, and she shook her head in dismal

-triumph; &ldquo;but never a Bean! No! we English

-have no such dreadful names, thank

-Heavens!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;This is the beginning of April,&rdquo; pursued

-Mrs. de Tracy, referring to a date-card.

-&ldquo;Maria Spalding&rsquo;s course at Nauheim will

-take three weeks. We must allow her a week

-for going and coming. During that time

-Mrs. David Loring can be my guest.&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_16' name='page_16'></a>16</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;A whole month!&rdquo; cried the companion,

-as though in ecstasy at her employer&rsquo;s generosity.

-&ldquo;A whole month at Stoke Revel!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Mrs. de Tracy took no notice. &ldquo;Write

-in my name to Maria Spalding, please,&rdquo; she

-commanded. &ldquo;Be sure that there is no mistake

-about dates. Mention the departure and

-arrival of trains, and say that Mrs. David

-Loring will find a fly at the station. That is

-all, I think.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>The companion bent officiously forward.

-&ldquo;You remember, of course, that young Mr.

-Lavendar comes down next week upon business?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Well, what if he does?&rdquo; asked Mrs.

-de Tracy shortly.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Mrs. David Loring is a widow,&rdquo; murmured

-the companion darkly; &ldquo;a young

-American widow; and they are said to be

-so dangerous!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Mrs. de Tracy drew herself up. &ldquo;Do you

-insinuate that the Admiral&rsquo;s niece will lay

-herself out to attract Mr. Lavendar, a

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_17' name='page_17'></a>17</span>

-widow in the house of a widow! You go

-rather too far, Miss Smeardon, though you

-are speaking of an American. Besides, allusions

-of this character are extremely distasteful

-to me. I have been told that the

-minds of unmarried women are always running

-upon love affairs, but I should hardly

-have thought it of you.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m sure I never imagined any about

-myself!&rdquo; murmured Miss Smeardon with the

-pitiable writhe of the trodden-on worm.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I should suppose not,&rdquo; rejoined Mrs.

-de Tracy gravely, and the companion took

-up her pen obediently to write to Maria

-Spalding.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Shall I send your love to the Admiral&rsquo;s

-niece?&rdquo; she humbly enquired, &ldquo;or&ndash;&ndash;or

-something of the kind?&rdquo; There was irony

-in the last phrase, but it was quite unconscious.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Not my love,&rdquo; replied Mrs. de Tracy,

-&ldquo;some suitable message. Make no mistake

-about the dates, remember.&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_18' name='page_18'></a>18</span></div>

-<p>Thus a letter containing dates, and though

-not love, the substitute described by Miss

-Smeardon as &ldquo;something of the kind&rdquo; for

-an unwanted niece from an unknown aunt,

-left Stoke Revel by the afternoon post and

-reached Robinette Loring at breakfast next

-morning.</p>

-<hr class='toprule' />

-<div class='chsp'>

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_19' name='page_19'></a>19</span>

-<a name='III_YOUNG_MRS_LORING' id='III_YOUNG_MRS_LORING'></a>

-<h2>III</h2>

-<h3>YOUNG MRS. LORING</h3>

-</div>

-<p>Young Mrs. Loring thought she had

-never taken so long a drive as that from the

-Weston railway station to Stoke Revel. The

-way stretched through narrow winding roads,

-always up hill, always between high Devonshire

-hedges. The rain-soaked lanes were

-slippery and she was unpleasantly conscious

-of the size and weight of the American wardrobe

-trunk that reared its mighty frame in

-front of her almost to the blotting-out of the

-driver, who steadied it with one hand as he

-plied the whip with the other. It struck her

-humorously that the trunk was larger than

-most of the cottages they were passing.</p>

-<p>It was a late spring that year in England,&ndash;&ndash;Robinette

-was a new-comer and did not

-know that England runs to late and wet

-springs, believing that they make more

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_20' name='page_20'></a>20</span>

-conversation than early, fine ones,&ndash;&ndash;and the

-trees were just bursting into leaf. The sun

-had not shone for three days and the landscape,

-for all its beautiful greenness, looked

-gloomy to an eye accustomed to a good deal

-of crude sunshine.</p>

-<p>As the horse mounted higher and higher

-Robinette glanced out of the windows at the

-dripping boughs and her face lost something

-of its sparkle of anticipation. She had little

-to expect in the way of a warm welcome, she

-knew that; or at least her mind knew it, but

-Robinette&rsquo;s heart always expected surprises,

-although she had lived two and twenty summers

-and was a widow at that.</p>

-<p>Her mother had been a de Tracy of Stoke

-Revel whose connection with that ancient

-family had ceased abruptly when she met an

-American architect while traveling on the

-Continent, married him out of hand and

-went to his native New England with him.

-The de Tracys had no opinion of America,

-its government, its institutions, its customs,

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_21' name='page_21'></a>21</span>

-or its people, and when they learned that

-Cynthia de Tracy had not only allied herself

-with this undesirable nation, but had selected

-a native by the name of Harold Bean, they

-regarded the incident of the marriage as

-closed.</p>

-<p>The union had been a happy one, though

-the de Tracys of Stoke Revel had always regarded

-the unfortunately named architect

-more as a vegetable than a human being;

-and the daughter of the marriage was the

-young Mrs. Loring now driving in the station

-fly to the home of her mother&rsquo;s people.</p>

-<p>Her father had died when she was fifteen

-and her mother followed three years after,

-leaving her with a respectable fortune but no

-relations; the entire family (happily, Mrs.

-de Tracy would have said) having died out

-with Harold. Robinette was unspeakably

-lonely, even with her hundred friends, for

-there was enough English blood in her to

-make her cry out inwardly for kith and kin,

-for family ties, for all the dear familiar backgrounds

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_22' name='page_22'></a>22</span>

-of hearth and home. Had a welcoming

-hand been stretched across the sea she

-would have flown at once to make acquaintance

-with the de Tracys, cold and indifferent

-as they had always been, but no bidding ever

-came, and the picture of the Manor House

-of Stoke Revel on her dressing-table was the

-only reminder of her connection with that

-ancient and honourable house.</p>

-<p>It is not difficult to see, under the circumstances,

-how the nineteen-year-old Robinette

-became the wife of the first man in whom

-she inspired a serious passion.</p>

-<p>It is incredible that women should confuse

-the passive process of being loved with the

-active process of loving, but it occurs nevertheless,

-and Robinette drifted into marriage

-with the vaguest possible notions of what it

-meant; feeling and knowing that she needed

-something, and supposing it must be a husband.

-It was better fortune, perhaps, than

-she merited, and equally kind for both parties,

-that her husband died before either of

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_23' name='page_23'></a>23</span>

-them realized the tragic mistake. David Loring

-was too absorbed in his own emotions to

-note the absence of full response on the part

-of his wife; Robinette was too much a child

-and too inexperienced to be conscious of her

-own lack of feeling.</p>

-<p>It was death, not life, that opened her eyes.

-When David Loring lay in his coffin, Robinette&rsquo;s

-heart was suddenly seized with growing

-pains. Her vision widened; words and

-promises took on a new and larger meaning,

-and she became a serious woman for her

-years, although there was an ineradicable

-gaiety of spirit in her that needed only sunshine

-to make it the dominant note of her

-nature.</p>

-<p>At the moment, Robinette, in the station

-fly on her way to Stoke Revel, was only in

-the making, although she herself considered

-her life as practically finished. The past and

-the present were moulding her into something

-that only the future could determine.

-Sometimes April, sometimes July, sometimes

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_24' name='page_24'></a>24</span>

-witch, sometimes woman; impetuous, intrepid,

-romantic, tempestuous, illogical,&ndash;&ndash;these

-were but the elements of which the

-coming years of experience had yet to shape

-a character. Young Mrs. Loring had plenty

-of briars, but she had good roots and in favorable

-soil would be certain to bear roses.</p>

-<p>But in the immediate present, the fly with

-the immense American wardrobe trunk beside

-the driver, turned into the avenue of

-Stoke Revel, and Mrs. David Loring bestowed

-upon herself those little feminine attentions

-which precede arrival&ndash;&ndash;pattings of the hair

-behind the ears, twitches of the veil, and pullings

-down about the waist and sleeves. A

-little toy of a purse made of golden chainwork,

-hanging from her wrist, was searched

-for the driver&rsquo;s fare, and it had hardly snapped

-to again when the fly drew up before the

-entrance to the house. How interesting it

-looked! Robinette put her head out of the

-carriage window and gazed up at the long

-row of windows, the old weather-coloured

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_25' name='page_25'></a>25</span>

-stones, and the carved front of the building.

-Here was a house where things might happen,

-she thought, and her young heart gave

-a sudden bound of anticipation.</p>

-<p>But the door was shut, alas! and a blank

-feeling came over Robinette as she looked

-at it. Some one perhaps would come out and

-welcome her, she thought for a brief moment,

-but only the butler appeared, who,

-with the formal announcement of her name,

-ushered her into a long, low room with a

-row of windows on one side and a pleasant

-old-fashioned look of comfort and habitation.

-She caught a glimpse of a tea-table with a

-steaming urn upon it, heard the furious barking

-of a little dog, saw that there were two

-figures in the room and moved instinctively

-towards the one beside the window, the

-figure in weeds, neither very tall nor very

-imposing, yet somehow formidable.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;How do you do?&rdquo; said an icy voice,

-and a chill hand held hers for a moment, but

-did not press it. The colour in Robinette&rsquo;s

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_26' name='page_26'></a>26</span>

-cheeks paled and then rushed back, as she

-drew herself up unconsciously.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I am very well, thank you, Aunt de

-Tracy,&rdquo; she answered with commendable

-composure.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;This is my friend and companion, Miss

-Smeardon,&rdquo; continued Mrs. de Tracy, advancing

-to the tea-table where that useful

-personage officiated. &ldquo;Mrs. David Loring&ndash;&ndash;Miss

-Smeardon.&rdquo; Miss Smeardon had the

-dog upon her lap, yapping, clashing his

-teeth together, and obviously thirsting for

-the visitor&rsquo;s blood. He was quieted with

-soothing words, and Robinette seated herself

-innocently in the nearest chair, beside the

-table.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Excuse me!&rdquo; the companion said with a

-slight cough; &ldquo;Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s chair! Do

-you mind taking another?&rdquo; There was

-something disagreeable in her voice, and

-in Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s deliberate scrutiny something

-so nearly insulting that a childish

-impulse to cry then and there suddenly

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_27' name='page_27'></a>27</span>

-seized upon Robinette. This was her mother&rsquo;s

-home&ndash;&ndash;and no kiss had welcomed her to it,

-no kind word! There were perfunctory questions

-about her journey, references to the

-coldness and lateness of the spring, enquiries

-after the health of Maria Spalding (whose

-mother was a Gallup), but no claiming of

-kinship, no naming of her mother&rsquo;s name nor

-of her native country! Robinette&rsquo;s ardent

-spirit had felt sorrow, but it had never met

-rebuff nor known injustice, and the sudden

-stir of revolt at her heart was painful with

-an almost physical pain.</p>

-<p>After a long drawn hour of this social

-torture, Mrs. de Tracy rang, and a hard-featured

-elderly maid appeared.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Show Mrs. Loring to her room, Benson,&rdquo;

-said the mistress of the house, &ldquo;and help

-her to unpack.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Robinette followed her conductor upstairs

-with a sinking heart. Oh! but the chill of

-this English spring was in her bones, and the

-coldness of a reception so frigid that her

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_28' name='page_28'></a>28</span>

-passionate young spirit almost rebelled on

-the spot, prompting wild ideas and impulsive

-impossibilities; even a flight to her mother&rsquo;s

-old nurse&ndash;&ndash;to Lizzie Prettyman, so often

-lovingly described, with her little thatched

-cottage beyond the river! Surely she would

-find the welcome there that was lacking here,

-and the touch of human kindness that one

-craved in a foreign land. But no! Robinette

-called to her aid her strong American

-common sense and the &ldquo;grit&rdquo; that her

-countrymen admire. Was she to confess herself

-routed in the very first onset&ndash;&ndash;the

-very first attempt in storming the ancestral

-stronghold? With a characteristically

-quick return of hope, the Admiral&rsquo;s niece

-exclaimed, &ldquo;Certainly not!&rdquo;</p>

-<hr class='toprule' />

-<div class='chsp'>

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_29' name='page_29'></a>29</span>

-<a name='IV_A_CHILLY_RECEPTION' id='IV_A_CHILLY_RECEPTION'></a>

-<h2>IV</h2>

-<h3>A CHILLY RECEPTION</h3>

-</div>

-<p>Mrs. Benson approached the wardrobe

-trunk with the air of a person who has taken

-an immediate and violent dislike to an object.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;We have all looked at your box, ma&rsquo;am,

-but I am sorry to say we are not sure that it

-is set up properly. It is very different from

-any we have ever seen at the Manor, and the

-men had some difficulty in getting it up to

-the room. I fancy it is upside down, is it

-not? No? We rather thought it was. I

-would call the boot-and-knife boy to unlock

-it, but he jammed his hand in attempting to

-force the catches, and I thought you would

-be kind enough to instruct me how to open

-it, perhaps?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I am quite able to do it myself,&rdquo; said

-Robinette, keeping down a hysterical laugh.

-&ldquo;See how easily it goes when you know the

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_30' name='page_30'></a>30</span>

-secret!&rdquo; and she deftly turned her key in

-two locks one after the other, let down the

-mysterious fa&ccedil;ade of the affair, and pulled

-out an extraordinary rack on which hung so

-many dresses and wraps that Mrs. Benson

-lost her breath in surprise.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Would you like me to carry some of

-your things into another room, ma&rsquo;am?&rdquo; she

-asked. &ldquo;They will never go in the wardrobe;

-it is only a plain English wardrobe, ma&rsquo;am.

-We have never had any American guests.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;The things needn&rsquo;t be moved,&rdquo; said Robinette,

-&ldquo;many of them will be quite convenient

-where they are;&ndash;&ndash;and now you need

-not trouble about me; I am well used to

-helping myself, if you will be kind enough to

-come in just before dinner for a moment.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Mrs. Benson disappeared below stairs,

-where she regaled the injured boot-and-knife

-boy and the female servants with the first

-instalment of what was destined to be the

-most dramatic and sensational serial story

-ever told at the Manor House.</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_31' name='page_31'></a>31</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;The lid of the box don&rsquo;t lift up,&rdquo; she

-explained, &ldquo;like all the box lids as ever I

-saw, and me with Lady Chitterton for six

-years, traveling constantly. The front of the

-thing splits in the middle and the bottom

-half falls on the floor. A heathenish kind of

-tray lifts off from its hinges like a door, and

-a clothes rack pulls out on runners. &rsquo;T is a

-sight to curdle your blood; and the number

-of dresses she&rsquo;s brought would make her out

-to be richer than Crusoe!&ndash;&ndash;though I have

-heard from a cousin of mine who was in

-service in America that the ladies over there

-spend every penny they can rake and scrape

-on their clothes. Their husbands may work

-their fingers to the bone, and their parents

-be in the workhouse, but fine frocks they

-will have!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Rather!&rdquo; said the boot-and-knife boy,

-nursing his injured thumb.</p>

-<p>On the departure of Mrs. Benson from

-her room, Robinette gave a stifled shriek in

-which laughter and tears were equally mingled.

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_32' name='page_32'></a>32</span>

-Then she flew like a lapwing to the

-fire-place and lifted off a fan of white paper

-from the grate.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;No possibility of help there!&rdquo; she exclaimed.

-&ldquo;Cold within, cold without! How

-shall I unpack? How shall I dress? How

-shall I live without a fire? Ah! here is the

-coal box! Empty! Empty, and it is only the

-month of April! &lsquo;Oh! to be in England

-now that April&rsquo;s there!&rsquo; How could Browning

-write that line without his teeth chattering!

-How well I understand the desire of

-the British to keep India and South Africa!

-They must have some place to go where they

-can get warm! Now for unpacking, or any

-sort of manual labour which will put my

-frozen blood in circulation!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Slapping her hands, beating her breast,

-stamping her feet, Mrs. Loring removed a

-few dresses from the offending trunk to the

-mahogany wardrobe, and disposed her effects

-neatly in the drawers of bureau and highboy.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I have made a mistake at the very beginning,&rdquo;

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_33' name='page_33'></a>33</span>

-she thought. &ldquo;I supposed nothing

-could be too pretty for the Manor House and

-now I am afraid my worst is too fine. The

-Manor House of Stoke Revel! Wouldn&rsquo;t

-that appeal to anyone&rsquo;s imagination? Now

-what for to-night? White satin with crystal?

-Back you go into the trunk! Back goes the

-silver grey chiffon! I&rsquo;ll have it re-hung over

-flannel! Avaunt! heliotrope velvet with

-amethyst spangles, made with a view to

-ensnaring the High Church clergy! I wish I

-had a princess dress of moleskin with a court

-train of squirrel hanging from the shoulders!

-Here is the thing; my black Liberty satin

-two years old. I will cover part of my exposed

-neck and shoulders with a fichu of

-lace; my black silk openwork stockings will

-be drawn on over a pair of balbriggans, and

-the number of petticoats I shall don would

-discourage a Scotch fishwife! To-morrow

-I&rsquo;ll write Mrs. Spalding&rsquo;s maid to buy me

-two hot-water bottles, mittens, a box of

-quinine tablets and a Shetland shawl....

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_34' name='page_34'></a>34</span>

-What are these&ndash;&ndash;<i>fans?</i> Retire into the

-depths of that tray and never look me in

-the face again!... <i>Parasols?</i> I wonder

-at your impertinence in coming here! I

-shall give you cod liver oil and make you

-grow into umbrellas!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Presently the dinner gong growled

-through the house, and Robinette, still shivering,

-flung across her shoulders a shimmering

-scarf of white and silver. It fell over her

-simple black dress in just the right way, adding

-a last touch to the somewhat exotic grace

-which made her a stranger in her mother&rsquo;s

-home. Then she fled down the darkening

-passages, instinctively aware that unpunctuality

-was a crime in this house. Yet in spite

-of her haste, she paused before the window

-of an upper lobby, arrested by the scene it

-framed. Heavy rain still fell, and the light,

-made greenish by the nearness of great trees

-just coming into leaf, was cheerless and

-singularly cold. But that could not mar the

-majesty of the outlook which made the

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_35' name='page_35'></a>35</span>

-Manor of Stoke Revel, on its height, unique.

-Far below the house, the broad river slipped

-towards the sea, between woods that rose

-tier upon tier above and beyond&ndash;&ndash;woods of

-beech and of oak, not yet green, but purplish

-under the rainy mist. On the bank, woods

-too, and here, where the river, in excess of

-strength, swirled into a creek&ndash;&ndash;a shining

-sand-bank where fishing nets were hung.

-Then the low, strong tower of a church, with

-the sombreness of cypress beside it, and the

-thatched roofs of cottages.</p>

-<p>Something stirred in the heart of Robinette

-as she looked, that part of her blood

-which her English mother had given her.

-This scene, so indescribably English as

-hardly to be imaginable in another land, had

-been painted for her again and again by her

-mother with all the retrospective romance of

-an exile&rsquo;s touch. She knew it, but she did

-not know if she could ever love it, beautiful

-though it was and noble.</p>

-<p>But she banished these misgivings and ran

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_36' name='page_36'></a>36</span>

-down the twisted stairway so fast that she

-was almost panting when she reached the

-drawing-room door.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I will take your arm, please,&rdquo; said the

-hostess coldly, while Miss Smeardon wore the

-virtuous and injured air of one who has been

-kept waiting. Mrs. de Tracy laid, on the

-warm and smooth arm of her guest, one of

-her small, dry hands, sparkling with rings,

-and the procession closed with the companion

-and the lap-dog.</p>

-<p>In the dining room, the shutters were

-closed, and the candles, in branching candlesticks

-of silver, only partially lit a room long

-and low like the other. The walls were darkened

-with pictures, and Robinette&rsquo;s bright

-eyes searched them eagerly.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;The Sir Joshua is not here!&rdquo; she

-thought. &ldquo;And it was not in the drawing

-room. Has Aunt de Tracy given, or hidden

-it away&ndash;&ndash;my very own name-picture?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>With all her determination, Robinette

-somehow could not summon courage enough

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_37' name='page_37'></a>37</span>

-to ask where this picture was. Such a question

-would involve the mention of her mother&rsquo;s

-name, and from that she shrank. Young Mrs.

-Loring had never before found herself in a

-society where conversation was apparently

-regarded as a crime, and to fit herself to her

-environment, under the scrutiny of Mrs. de

-Tracy and the decidedly inimical looks of

-the companion, took all her time. A burden

-of self-consciousness lay upon her such as

-her light and elastic spirit had never known.

-She found herself morbidly observant of

-minute details; the pattern of the tablecloth;

-the crest upon the spoons; the

-curious red knobs upon Miss Smeardon&rsquo;s fingers,

-and the odd mincing way she held her

-fork; the almost athletic efforts of the butler

-when he raised an enormous silver dish-cover,

-and the curiously frugal and unappetizing

-nature of the viand it disclosed. The

-wizened face of the lap-dog, too, peering over

-the table&rsquo;s edge, out of Miss Smeardon&rsquo;s lap,

-might have acquired its distrustful expression,

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_38' name='page_38'></a>38</span>

-Robinette thought, from habitual

-doubts as to whether enough to eat would

-ever be his good fortune. The meal ended

-with the ceremonious presentation to each

-lady in turn, of three wrinkled apples and

-two crooked bananas in a probably priceless

-dish of Crown Derby. Then the procession

-re-formed and returned to the drawing room.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;And the evening and the morning were

-the first day!&rdquo; sighed Robinette to herself

-in the chilly solitude of her own room. How

-often could she endure the repetition?</p>

-<hr class='toprule' />

-<div class='chsp'>

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_39' name='page_39'></a>39</span>

-<a name='V_AT_WITTISHAM' id='V_AT_WITTISHAM'></a>

-<h2>V</h2>

-<h3>AT WITTISHAM</h3>

-</div>

-<p>&ldquo;May I have a fire to dress by, Benson?&rdquo;

-Robinette asked rather timidly that night,

-her head just peeping above the blankets.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;<i>Fire</i>?&rdquo; returned Benson, in italics, with

-an interrogation point.</p>

-<p>Robinette longed to spell the word and

-ask Benson if it had ever come to her notice

-before, but she stifled her desire and

-said, &ldquo;I am quite ashamed, Benson, but you

-see I am not used to the climate yet. If

-you&rsquo;ll pamper me just a little at the beginning,

-I shall behave better presently.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I will give orders for a fire night and

-morning, certainly, ma&rsquo;am,&rdquo; said Benson. &ldquo;I

-did not offer it because our ladies never have

-one in their bedrooms at this time of the

-year. Mrs. de Tracy is very strong and

-active for her age.&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_40' name='page_40'></a>40</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s my opinion she&rsquo;s a w&rsquo;eedler,&rdquo; remarked

-Benson at the housekeeper&rsquo;s luncheon

-table. &ldquo;She asks for what she wants like

-a child. She has a pretty way with her, I

-can&rsquo;t deny that, but is she a w&rsquo;eedler?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Wheedler or not, Robinette got her fire to

-dress by, and so was able to come down in

-the morning feeling tolerably warm. It was

-well that she was, for the cold tea and tough

-toast of the de Tracy breakfast had little

-in them to warm the heart. Conversation

-languished during the meal, and after a

-walk to the stables Robinette was thankful

-to return to her own room again on the pretext

-of writing letters. There she piled up

-the fire, drew her chair close up to the hearth,

-and employed herself until noon, when she

-took her embroidery and joined her aunt in

-the drawing room. Luncheon was announced

-at half past one, and immediately after it

-Mrs. de Tracy and Miss Smeardon went to

-their respective bedrooms for rest.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Are there indeed only twelve hours in

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_41' name='page_41'></a>41</span>

-the day?&rdquo; Robinette asked herself desperately

-as she heard the great, solemn-toned

-hall clock strike two. It seemed quite impossible

-that it could be only two; the

-whole afternoon had still to be accounted

-for, and how? Well, she might look over

-her clothes again, re-arranging them in

-all their dainty variety in the wardrobe

-and drawers; she might put tissue paper

-into the sleeves of each bodice, smoothing

-out every crease; she might even find that

-some tiny repairs were needed! There were

-three new hats, and several pairs of new

-gloves to be tried on; her accounts must be

-made up, her cheque book balanced; yet

-all these things would take but a short time.

-Then the hall clock struck three.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I must go out,&rdquo; she thought.</p>

-<p>Coming through the hall from her room

-Robinette met her aunt and Miss Smeardon

-descending the staircase.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;We are driving this afternoon,&rdquo; said

-Mrs. de Tracy, &ldquo;would you not like to come

-with us?&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_42' name='page_42'></a>42</span></div>

-<p>The thought turned Robinette to stone:

-she had visited the stables, and seen the

-coachman lead what seemed to her a palsied

-horse out into the yard. Her sympathetic allusion

-to the supposed condition of the steed

-had not been well received, for the man had

-given her to understand that this was the

-one horse of the establishment, but Robinette

-had vowed never to sit behind it.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I think I&rsquo;d rather walk, Aunt de Tracy,&rdquo;

-she said, &ldquo;I&rsquo;d like to go and see my mother&rsquo;s

-old nurse, Mrs. Prettyman. Can I do any

-errands for you?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;None, thank you. To go to Wittisham

-you have to cross the ferry, remember.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Oh! that must be simple! you may be

-sure I shall not lose myself!&rdquo; said Robinette.</p>

-<p>Both the older women looked curiously

-at her for a moment; then Mrs. de Tracy

-said:&ndash;&ndash;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;You will kindly not use the public ferry;

-the footman will row you across to Wittisham

-at any hour you may mention to him.&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_43' name='page_43'></a>43</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;Oh, but Aunt de Tracy, I&rsquo;d really prefer

-the public ferry.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Nonsense, impossible; the footman shall

-row you,&rdquo; said Mrs. de Tracy with finality.</p>

-<p>Robinette said nothing; she hated the

-idea of the footman, but it seemed inevitable.

-&ldquo;Am I never to get away from their dullnesses?&rdquo;

-she thought. &ldquo;A public ferry

-sounds quite lively in place of being rowed

-by William!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>When the shore was reached, however,

-Robinette discovered that the passage across

-the river in a leaky little boat, rowed by a

-painfully inexperienced servant, was almost

-too much for her. To see him fumbling

-with the oars, made her tingle to take them

-herself; she could not abide the irritation

-of a return journey with such a boatman.

-This determination was hastened when she

-saw that instead of the three-decker steamer

-of her native land, the ferry at Wittisham

-was just like an ordinary row-boat; that

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_44' name='page_44'></a>44</span>

-one rang a bell hanging from a picturesque

-tower; that a nice young man with a sprig

-of wallflower in his cap rowed one across,

-and that each passenger handed out a penny

-to him on the farther side.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;How enchantingly quaint!&rdquo; she cried.

-&ldquo;William, you can go home; I shall return

-by the public ferry.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>William looked surprised but only replied,

-&ldquo;Very good, ma&rsquo;am.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>On warm summer afternoons the tiny square

-of Mrs. Prettyman&rsquo;s garden made as delightful

-a place to sit in as one could wish. There

-was sunshine on the turf, and a thin shade

-was cast by the drooping boughs of the

-plum tree; just enough to shelter old eyes

-from the glare. When she was very tired

-with doing her work Mrs. Prettyman would

-totter out into the garden. She was getting

-terribly lame now, yet afraid to acknowledge

-it, knowing, with the desperate wisdom of

-poverty, that once to give in, very often

-ended in giving up altogether. So her lameness

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_45' name='page_45'></a>45</span>

-was &lsquo;blamed on the weather,&rsquo; &lsquo;blamed

-on scrubbing the floor,&rsquo; blamed on anything

-rather than the tragic, incurable fact

-of old age. This afternoon her rheumatism

-had been specially bad: she had an inclination

-to cry out when she rose from her

-chair, and every step was an effort. Yet the

-sunshine was tempting; it warmed old and

-aching bones through and through as no fire

-could do; and Mrs. Prettyman thought she

-must make the effort to go out.</p>

-<p>She had just arrived at this conclusion,

-when a tap came to the door.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;That you, Mrs. Darke?&rdquo; she called out

-in her piping old voice. &ldquo;Come in, me dear,

-I&rsquo;m that stiff with me rheumatics to-day I

-can&rsquo;t scarce rise out of me chair.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s not Mrs. Darke,&rdquo; said Robinette,

-stooping to enter through the tiny doorway.

-&ldquo;It&rsquo;s a stranger, Mrs. Prettyman, come all

-the way from America to see you.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Lor&rsquo; now, Miss, whoever may you be?&rdquo;

-the old woman cried, making as if she would

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_46' name='page_46'></a>46</span>

-rise from her chair. But Robinette caught

-her arm and made her sit still.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t get up; please sit right there where

-you are, and I&rsquo;ll take this chair beside you.

-Now, Mrs. Prettyman, look at me hard, and

-tell me if you know who I am.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>The old woman gazed into Robinette&rsquo;s

-face, and then a light seemed to break over her.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s Miss Cynthia&rsquo;s daughter you are!&rdquo;

-she cried. &ldquo;My Miss Cynthia as went and

-married in America!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>She caught Robinette&rsquo;s white ringed hands

-in hers, and Robinette bent down and kissed

-the wrinkled old face.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I know that mother loved you, Nurse,&rdquo;

-she said. &ldquo;She used often, often to tell me

-about you.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>After the fashion of old people, Mrs.

-Prettyman was too much moved to speak.

-Her face worked all over, and then slow tears

-began to run down her furrowed cheeks.

-She got up from her chair and walked across

-the uneven floor, leaning on a stick.</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_47' name='page_47'></a>47</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve something here, Miss, I&rsquo;ve something

-here; something I never parts with,&rdquo;

-she said. A tall chest of drawers stood

-against the wall, and the old woman began

-to search among its contents as she spoke.

-At last she found a little kid shoe, laid away

-in a handkerchief.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;See here, Miss! here&rsquo;s my Miss Cynthia&rsquo;s

-shoe! &rsquo;T was tied on to my wedding

-coach the day I got married and left her.

-My &rsquo;usband &rsquo;e laughed at me cruel because

-I&rsquo;d have that shoe with me; but I&rsquo;ve kept

-it ever since.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Robinette came and stood beside her, and

-they both wept together over the silly little

-shoe.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I want to talk a great deal to you, Nurse;

-I want to tell you all about mother and

-father, and how they died,&rdquo; said Robinette

-through her tears. How strange that she

-should have to come to this cottage and to

-this poor old woman before she found anyone

-to whom she could speak of her beloved dead!

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_48' name='page_48'></a>48</span>

-Her heart was so full that she could scarcely

-speak. A crowd of memories rushed into her

-mind; last scenes and parting words; those

-innumerable unforgettable details that are

-printed once for all upon the heart that loves

-and feels.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;d like to tell you about it out of doors,

-Nurse dear,&rdquo; she said tearfully; &ldquo;can you

-come out under the plum tree in your garden?

-It&rsquo;s lovely there.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Yes, dearie, yes, we&rsquo;ll come out under

-the plum tree, we will,&rdquo; echoed Mrs. Prettyman.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;See, Nursie, take my arm, I&rsquo;ll help you

-out into the warm sunshine,&rdquo; Robinette said.</p>

-<p>They progressed very slowly, the old

-woman leaning with all her weight upon the

-arm of her strong young helper. Then under

-the flickering shade of the tree they sat down

-together for their talk.</p>

-<p>So much to tell, so much to hear, the

-afternoon slipped away unknown to them,

-and still they were sitting there hand in hand

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_49' name='page_49'></a>49</span>

-talking and listening; sometimes crying a

-little, sometimes laughing; a queerly assorted

-couple, these new-made friends.</p>

-<p>But when all the recollections had been

-talked over and wept over, when Mrs. Prettyman

-had told Robinette, with the extraordinary

-detail that old people can put into their

-memories of long ago, all that she remembered

-of Cynthia de Tracy&rsquo;s childhood,

-then Robinette began to question the old

-woman about her own life. Was she comfortable?

-Was she tolerably well off? Or

-had she difficulty in making ends meet?</p>

-<p>To these questions Mrs. Prettyman made

-valiant answers: she had a fine spirit, and no

-wish to let a stranger see the skeleton in the

-cupboard. But Robinette&rsquo;s quick instinct

-pierced through the veil of well-meant bravery

-and touched the truth.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Nurse dear,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;you say you&rsquo;re

-comfortable, and well off, but you won&rsquo;t

-mind my telling you that I just don&rsquo;t quite

-believe you.&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_50' name='page_50'></a>50</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;Oh, my dear heart, what&rsquo;s that you be

-sayin&rsquo;? callin&rsquo; of me a liar?&rdquo; chuckled the

-old woman fondly.</p>

-<p>Robinette rose from her seat on the bench

-and stood back to scrutinize the cottage. It

-was exquisitely picturesque, but this very

-picturesqueness constituted its danger; for

-the place was a perfect death trap. The crumbling

-cob-walls that had taken on those wonderful

-patches of green colour, soaked in the

-damp like a sponge: the irregularity of the

-thatched roof that looked so well, admitted

-trickles of rain on wet nights; and the uneven

-mud floor of the kitchen revealed the

-fact that the cottage had been built without

-any proper foundation. The door did not

-fit, and in cold weather a knife-like draught

-must run in under it. All this Robinette&rsquo;s

-quick, practical glance took in; she gave

-a little nod or two, murmuring to herself,

-&ldquo;A new thatch roof, a new door, a new

-cement floor.&rdquo; Then she came and sat down

-again.</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_51' name='page_51'></a>51</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;Tell me now, how much do you have to

-live on every week, Nurse?&rdquo; she asked.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Oh, Miss Robinette&ndash;&ndash;ma&rsquo;am, I should

-say&ndash;&ndash;&rsquo;t is wonderful how I gets on; and

-then there&rsquo;s the plum tree&ndash;&ndash;just see the

-flourish on it, Missie dear! &rsquo;T will have a

-crop o&rsquo; plums come autumn will about drag

-down the boughs! I don&rsquo;t know how

-&rsquo;t would be with me without I had the plum

-tree.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Do you really make something by it?&rdquo;

-Robinette asked.</p>

-<p>The old woman chuckled again. &ldquo;To be

-sure I makes; makes jam every autumn; a

-sight o&rsquo; jam. Come inside again, me dear, an&rsquo;

-see me jam cupboard and you&rsquo;ll know.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>She hobbled into the kitchen, and opened

-the door of a wall press in the corner. There,

-row above row stood a solid phalanx of jam

-pots; it seemed as if a whole town might

-be supplied out of Mrs. Prettyman&rsquo;s cupboard.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;&rsquo;T is well thought of, me jam,&rdquo; the old

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_52' name='page_52'></a>52</span>

-woman said, grinning with pleasure. &ldquo;I be

-very careful in the preparing of &rsquo;en; gets

-a penny the pound more for me jam than

-others, along of its being so fine.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Robinette was charmed to see that here

-Mrs. Prettyman had a reliable source of

-income, however slender.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;How much do you reckon to get from it

-every year?&rdquo; she asked.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Going five pounds, dear: four pounds

-fifteen shillings and sixpence, last autumn;

-and please the Lord there&rsquo;s a better crop

-this season, so &rsquo;t will be the clear five pounds.

-Oh! I do be loving me plum tree like a

-friend, I do.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>They turned back into the sunshine again,

-that Robinette should admire this wonderful

-tree-friend once more. She stood under its

-shadow with great delight, as the Bible says,

-gazing up through the intricate network of

-boughs and blossom to the cloudless blue

-above her.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s heavenly, Nurse, just heavenly!&rdquo;

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_53' name='page_53'></a>53</span>

-she sighed as she came and sat down beside

-the old woman again.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Then there&rsquo;s me duck too, Missie!

-Lard, now I don&rsquo;t know how I&rsquo;d be without

-I had me duck. Duckie I calls &rsquo;er and

-Duckie she is; company she is, too, to me

-mornin&rsquo;s, with her &lsquo;Quack, Quack,&rsquo; under

-the winder.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>So the old woman prattled on, giving

-Robinette all the history of her life, with its

-tiny joys and many struggles, till it seemed

-to the listener that she had always known

-Mrs. Prettyman, the plum tree, and her duck&ndash;&ndash;known

-them and loved them, all three.</p>

-<hr class='toprule' />

-<div class='chsp'>

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_54' name='page_54'></a>54</span>

-<a name='VI_MARK_LAVENDAR' id='VI_MARK_LAVENDAR'></a>

-<h2>VI</h2>

-<h3>MARK LAVENDAR</h3>

-</div>

-<p>Hundreds of years ago the street of

-Stoke Revel village, if street it could be

-called, and the tower of the ancient church,

-must have looked very much the same as

-now.</p>

-<p>On such a day, when the oak woods were

-budding, and the English birds singing, and

-the spring sun was hot in a clear sky, a

-knight riding down the steep lane would

-have taken the same turn to the left on his

-way to the Manor. Were he a young man,

-he would probably have reined up his horse

-for a moment, and looked, as Mark Lavendar

-did now, at the blithe landscape before

-him. Only then the accessories would have

-been so different: the great horse, somewhat

-tired by long hours of riding, the armour

-that glinted in the sun, the casque pushed

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_55' name='page_55'></a>55</span>

-up to let the fresh air play upon the rider&rsquo;s

-face; such a figure must have often stood

-just at that turn where the lane wound up

-the little hill. The landscape was the same,

-and young men in all ages are very much the

-same, so&ndash;&ndash;although this one had merely arrived

-by train, and walked from the nearest

-station&ndash;&ndash;Mark Lavendar stopped and leaned

-over the low wall when he came to the turn

-of the road, and looked down at the river.</p>

-<p>He boasted no war horse nor armour;

-none of the trappings of the older world

-added to his distinction, and yet he was a

-very pleasing figure of a man.</p>

-<p>The gaunt brown face was quite hard and

-solemn in expression; ugly, but not commonplace,

-for as a friend once said of him,

-&ldquo;His eyes seem to belong to another

-person.&rdquo; It was not this, but only that the

-eyes, blue as Saint Veronica&rsquo;s flower, showed

-suddenly a different aspect of the man, an

-unexpected tenderness that flatly contradicted

-the hard features of his face. He

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_56' name='page_56'></a>56</span>

-looked very nice when he laughed too, so

-that most people when they had found out

-the trick, tried to make him laugh as often

-as possible.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;What a day! Heavens! what a lovely

-day,&rdquo; he said to himself as he leaned on the

-low wall. &ldquo;I want to be courting Amaryllis

-somewhere in these woods, and instead

-I&rsquo;ve got to go and talk business with

-that old woman;&rdquo; and he looked ruefully towards

-the Manor House; for this was not

-his first visit by any means, and he knew

-only too well the hours of boredom that

-awaited him. Mrs. de Tracy, strange to say,

-had a soft side towards this young man,

-the son of her family solicitor. Mark was

-invariably sent down by his father when

-there was any business to be transacted at

-Stoke Revel. The older man was fond of a

-good dinner, and hated circumlocution about

-affairs, and it was only when a death in the

-family, or some other crucial event, made his

-presence absolutely necessary that he came

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_57' name='page_57'></a>57</span>

-down himself. Mark was sacrificed instead,

-and many a wearisome hour had he spent in

-that house. However on this occasion he had

-been glad enough to get out of London for

-a while; the country was divine, and even

-the de Tracy business did not occupy the

-whole day. There would be hours on the

-river; afternoons spent riding along those

-green lanes through which he had just passed,

-where the banks were starred with little vivid

-flowers. Mark had an almost childish delight

-in such beauty. He had loitered on the way

-along, flung himself down on a bank for

-a few minutes, and burying his face amongst

-the flowers, listened with a smile upon his

-mouth to the birds that chirruped in the

-branches of the oak above him.</p>

-<p>Now he leaned on the low wall, and gazed

-at the shining reaches of the river. &ldquo;What

-a day!&rdquo; he said to himself again. &ldquo;What a

-divine afternoon&rdquo;; then he added quite simply,

-&ldquo;I wish I were in love; everyone under

-eighty ought to be, on such a day!&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_58' name='page_58'></a>58</span></div>

-<p>Even at the age of thirty most men of any

-personal attractions have some romantic

-memories. Lavendar had his share, but somehow

-that morning he was disconcertingly

-candid to himself. It may have been the sudden

-change from London air and London

-noise; something in the clear transparency

-of the April day, in the flute-like melody of

-the birds&rsquo; song, in the dream-like beauty of

-the scene before him, that made all the moth

-and rust that had consumed the remembrances

-of the past more apparent. There was

-little of the treasure of heaven there,&ndash;&ndash;it

-had mostly been nonsense or vanity or worse.

-He wanted, oh, how he wanted, to be able

-just for once to surrender himself to what

-was absolutely ideal; to have a memory when

-he was an old man, of something that had

-no fault in it.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;No, I&rsquo;ve never been really in love,&rdquo; he

-said to himself, &ldquo;I may as well confess it;

-and I daresay I never shall be, but marry on

-an impulse like most men, make the best of

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_59' name='page_59'></a>59</span>

-it afterwards, and have a sort of middle-class

-happiness in the end of the day.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;One, Two, Three,&rdquo; said the church clock

-from the ancient tower, booming out the

-note, and Lavendar started, and rubbed his

-hands across his dazzled eyes. &ldquo;Luncheon is

-a late meal in that awful house, if I remember,&rdquo;

-he said, &ldquo;but it must be over by this

-time. I really must go in. Let me collect my

-thoughts; the business is &lsquo;just things in

-general,&rsquo; but especially the sale of some cottage

-or other and the land it stands on. Yes,

-yes, I remember; the papers are all right.

-Now for the old ladies.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>He made his entrance into the Manor

-drawing room a few minutes later with a

-charming smile.</p>

-<p>Mrs. de Tracy actually walked a few steps

-to meet him, with a greeting less frigid than

-usual.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m glad to see you, Mark,&rdquo; said she.

-&ldquo;Bates said you preferred to walk from the

-station.&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_60' name='page_60'></a>60</span></div>

-<p>Mark turned his kind eyes on Miss Smeardon,

-and held her knuckly hand in his own

-almost tenderly. It was a very bad habit,

-which had led to some mischief in the past,

-that when he was sorry for a thing he wanted

-to be very kind to it; and this made him

-unusually pleasing, and dangerous!</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Business first and pleasure afterwards;

-excellent maxim!&rdquo; he said to himself half an

-hour later, as he removed the dust of travel

-from his person, preparatory to an interview

-with Mrs. de Tracy. &ldquo;Now for it!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>He liked the drawing room at Stoke Revel

-and always wished it had other occupants

-when he entered it. This afternoon it seemed

-particularly agreeable, the open windows letting

-in the slanting sunshine and a strong

-scent of jonquils and sweet briar.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Well, Mrs. de Tracy,&rdquo; said Mark, &ldquo;I

-am my father&rsquo;s spokesman, you know, and

-we have serious business to discuss. But tell

-me first, how&rsquo;s my young friend Carnaby?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Thank you; my grandson has a severe

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_61' name='page_61'></a>61</span>

-attack of quinsy,&rdquo; replied Mrs. de Tracy.

-&ldquo;He is to have sick-leave whenever the

-Endymion returns to Portsmouth.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Oh! Carnaby will make short work of

-an attack of quinsy,&rdquo; said Lavendar, genially.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It would please me better,&rdquo; retorted Mrs.

-de Tracy severely, &ldquo;if my grandson showed

-signs of mental improvement as well as

-bodily health. His letters are ill-spelled, ill-written,

-and ill-expressed. They are the

-letters of a school-boy.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;He is not much more than a school-boy,

-is he?&rdquo; suggested Mark, &ldquo;only fifteen!

-The mental improvement will come; too

-soon, for my taste. I like Carnaby as he is!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>The young man had seated himself beside

-his hostess in an attitude of perfect ease.

-Though bored by his present environment,

-he was entirely at home in it. Just because

-he greatly dared towards her and was never

-afraid, Mrs. de Tracy liked him. With the

-mere flicker of an eyelid, she dismissed the

-attendant Smeardon.</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_62' name='page_62'></a>62</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;There has been an offer for the land at

-Wittisham,&rdquo; Lavendar said, when they were

-alone.</p>

-<p>Mrs. de Tracy winced. &ldquo;That is no matter

-of congratulation with me,&rdquo; she said

-bleakly.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;But it is with us, for it is a most excellent

-one!&rdquo; returned the young man hardily.

-&ldquo;The firm has had the responsibility of advising

-the sale, which we consider absolutely

-unavoidable in the present financial condition

-of Stoke Revel. We have advertised

-for a year, and advertisement is costly. Now

-comes an offer of a somewhat peculiar kind,

-but sound enough.&rdquo; Lavendar here produced

-a bundle of documents tied with the traditional

-red tape. &ldquo;An artist,&rdquo; he continued,

-&ldquo;Waller, R. A.&ndash;&ndash;you know the name?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I do not,&rdquo; interpolated Mrs. de Tracy

-grimly.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Nevertheless, a well known painter,&rdquo;

-persisted Mark, &ldquo;and one, as it happens, of

-the orchard scenery of this part of England.

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_63' name='page_63'></a>63</span>

-He has known Wittisham for a long time,

-and only last year he made a success with the

-painting of a plum tree which grows in

-front of one of the cottages. It was sold

-for a large sum, and, as a matter of sentiment,

-I suppose, Waller wishes to buy the

-cottage and make it into a summer retreat

-or studio for himself.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;He cannot buy it,&rdquo; said Mrs. de Tracy

-with the snort of a war horse.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;He cannot buy it apart from the land,&rdquo;

-insinuated Mark, &ldquo;but he is flush of cash

-and ready to buy the land too&ndash;&ndash;very nearly

-as much as we want to sell, and the bargain

-merely waits your consent. The sum that

-has been agreed upon is of the kind that a

-man in the height of his triumph offers for

-a fancy article. No such sum will ever be

-offered for land at Wittisham again; old orchard

-land, falling into desuetude as it is and

-covered with condemned cottages.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Mrs. de Tracy was sternly silent, and Mark

-awaited her next words with some curiosity.

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_64' name='page_64'></a>64</span>

-He felt like a torturer drawing the tooth

-of a Jew in the good old days. This sale of

-land was a bitter pill to the widow, as it well

-might be, for it was the beginning of the

-end, as the de Tracy solicitors could have told

-you. There had been de Tracys of Stoke Revel

-since Queen Elizabeth&rsquo;s time, but there would

-not be de Tracys of Stoke Revel much longer,&ndash;&ndash;unless

-young Carnaby married an heiress

-when he came of age&ndash;&ndash;and that no de

-Tracy had ever done.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;The land across the river,&rdquo; Mrs. de Tracy

-said at last, &ldquo;was the first land the de Tracys

-held, but much of it went at the Restoration.

-Well, let this go too!&rdquo; she added

-harshly.</p>

-<p>Mark blessed himself that indecision was

-no part of the lady&rsquo;s character and sighed

-with relief. &ldquo;My father would like to know,&rdquo;

-he said, &ldquo;what you propose to do with regard

-to the old woman who is the present tenant

-of the cottage.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Elizabeth Prettyman is not a tenant,&rdquo;

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_65' name='page_65'></a>65</span>

-said Mrs. de Tracy coldly. &ldquo;She is practically

-a pensioner, since she lives rent-free.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;True, I forgot,&rdquo; said Mark soothingly.

-&ldquo;I beg your pardon.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Do not suppose that it is by my wish,&rdquo;

-continued Mrs. de Tracy coldly. &ldquo;I have never

-approved of supporting the peasantry in idleness.

-This woman happened to be for some

-years nurse to Cynthia de Tracy, my husband&rsquo;s

-younger sister, who deeply offended

-her family by marrying an American named

-Bean. I see no claim in that to a pension of

-any kind.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;But your husband saw it, I imagine,&rdquo;

-interpolated Mark quietly, and Mrs. de Tracy

-gave him a fierce look, which he met, however,

-without a sign of flinching.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;My husband had a mistaken idea that

-Prettyman was poor when she became a

-widow,&rdquo; said Mrs. de Tracy. &ldquo;On the contrary

-she had relations quite well able to

-support her, I believe. I never cross the

-river, in these days, and the matter has escaped

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_66' name='page_66'></a>66</span>

-my memory, so that things have been

-left as they were.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;No great loss,&rdquo; said Mark candidly,

-&ldquo;since the cottage in its present state is utterly

-unfit for any tenant. As to Prettyman,

-is it your intention to give her notice to

-quit?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Unquestionably, since the cottage is

-needed,&rdquo; answered Mrs. de Tracy. &ldquo;She has

-occupied it too long as it is.&rdquo; The speaker&rsquo;s

-lips closed like a vice over the words.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;God pity Elizabeth Prettyman!&rdquo; ejaculated

-Lavendar to himself. &ldquo;Might is Right

-still, apparently, at Stoke Revel!&rdquo; Aloud

-he merely said, &ldquo;A weak deference to public

-opinion was never a foible of yours, Mrs. de

-Tracy; but I think I would advise you to

-consider some question of compensation to

-Mrs. Prettyman for the loss of the cottage.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;If you can show me that the woman has

-any legal claim upon the estate, I will consider

-the question, but not otherwise,&rdquo; said

-Mrs. de Tracy with such an air of finality

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_67' name='page_67'></a>67</span>

-that Lavendar was inclined to let the matter

-drop for the moment.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;The firm,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;will communicate

-your wishes to Mrs. Prettyman by letter.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Prettyman cannot read,&rdquo; snapped Mrs.

-de Tracy. &ldquo;She must be told, and the

-sooner the better.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Well, Mrs. de Tracy,&rdquo; said the young

-man with a short laugh, &ldquo;provided it is not

-I who have to tell her, well and good. I

-warn you the task would not be to my taste

-unless compensation were offered her.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s features hardened to a

-degree unusual even to her.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I am apparently less tender-hearted than

-you,&rdquo; she said sardonically. &ldquo;I shall, if I

-think fit, deal with Prettyman in person.&rdquo;

-The subject was dropped, and Lavendar rose

-to leave the room, but Mrs. de Tracy detained

-him.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;The Admiral&rsquo;s niece, Mrs. David Loring,

-is my guest at present,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;It happens

-that she has crossed the river to Wittisham

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_68' name='page_68'></a>68</span>

-and is paying a visit to Prettyman. I should

-be obliged, Mark, if you would row across

-and fetch her back, as by some misunderstanding,

-my servant has not waited for her.

-You are an oarsman, I know.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>The young man consented with alacrity.

-&ldquo;I shall kill two birds with one stone,&rdquo; he

-said cheerfully, &ldquo;I shall visit the famous plum

-tree cottage and see Mrs. Prettyman for myself;

-and I shall have the privilege of executing

-your commission as Mrs. Loring&rsquo;s escort.

-It sounds a very agreeable one!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;You have no time to lose,&rdquo; said Mrs. de

-Tracy with a glance at the clock.</p>

-<hr class='toprule' />

-<div class='chsp'>

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_69' name='page_69'></a>69</span>

-<a name='VII_A_CROSSEXAMINATION' id='VII_A_CROSSEXAMINATION'></a>

-<h2>VII</h2>

-<h3>A CROSS-EXAMINATION</h3>

-</div>

-<p>Lavendar escaped from the house, where,

-even in the smoke-room, it seemed unregenerate

-to light a cigar, and took the path to the

-shore.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I wonder if one woman staying in a house

-full of men would find life as depressing as

-I do cooped up here under precisely opposite

-circumstances,&rdquo; he thought, as he made his

-way through the little churchyard. &ldquo;It cannot

-be the atmosphere of femininity that

-bores me, however, for Mrs. de Tracy has a

-strongly masculine flavour and Miss Smeardon

-is as nearly neuter as a person can

-be.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>He took a couple of oars from the boat-house

-as he passed, and going to the little

-landing stage untied the boat and started for

-the farther shore.</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_70' name='page_70'></a>70</span></div>

-<p>It was good to feel the water parting under

-his vigorous strokes and delightful to exert

-his strength after the hours of stifled irritation

-at the Manor. It was a bright, calm close

-of day, when in the rarefied evening air each

-sound began to acquire the sharpness that

-marks the hour. He could hear the rush of

-the waters behind the boat and the voices

-of the fishers farther up the stream. As he

-drew up to the bank and took in his oars

-the stillness was so great that you could have

-heard a pin fall, when suddenly from a tree

-above him a bird broke into one little finished

-song and then was still, as if it had uttered

-all it wished to say.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;What a heavenly evening!&rdquo; thought

-Lavendar, &ldquo;and what a lovely spot! That must

-be the cottage just above me. Mrs. de Tracy

-said I should know it by the plum tree. Ah,

-there it is!&rdquo; Tying up the boat he sprang

-up the steps and walked along the flagged

-path. The plum tree these last few days had

-begun to look its fairest. The blossoms did

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_71' name='page_71'></a>71</span>

-not yet conceal the leaves, but it was a very

-bower of beauty already. There was a little

-table spread for tea under its branches, and

-an old woman like thousands of old women

-in thousands of cottages all over England,

-was sitting behind it, precisely as if she had

-been a coloured illustration in a summer

-number of an English weekly. She was on

-the typical bench in the typical attitude, but

-instead of the typical old man in a clean smock

-frock who should have occupied the end of

-the bench, there sat beside her a distinctly

-lovely young woman. What struck Lavendar

-was the wealth of colour she brought into the

-picture: goldy brown hair, brown tweed dress,

-with a cape of blue cloth slipping off her

-shoulders, and a brown toque with a pert upstanding

-quill that seemed to express spirit

-and pluck, and a merry heart. His quick

-glance took in the little hands that held the

-withered old ones. Both heads were bowed

-and in the brown tweed lap was a child&rsquo;s shoe,&ndash;&ndash;a

-wee, worn, fat shoe. Beside it lay an absurd

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_72' name='page_72'></a>72</span>

-bit of crumpled, tear-soaked embroidery that

-had been intended to do duty as a handkerchief

-but had evidently proved quite unseaworthy.</p>

-<p>Waddling about on the flags close to the

-little table was a large fat duck wearing a

-look of inexpressible greed. &ldquo;<i>Quack, quack,

-quack</i>!&rdquo; it said, waddling off angrily as

-Lavendar approached.</p>

-<p>At the sound of the duck&rsquo;s raucous voice

-both the women looked up.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Is this Mrs. Prettyman&rsquo;s cottage,

-ma&rsquo;am?&rdquo; Lavendar asked with his charming

-smile.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Yes, sir, &rsquo;t is indeed, and who may you

-be, if I may be so bold as to ask?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m Mr. Lavendar, Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s lawyer,

-Mrs. Prettyman. I&rsquo;m come to do some

-business at Stoke Revel,&rdquo; he added, for the

-old face had clouded over, and Mrs. Prettyman&rsquo;s

-whole expression changed to one of

-timid mistrust. &ldquo;I really was sent by Mrs. de

-Tracy,&rdquo; he went on, turning to Robinette,

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_73' name='page_73'></a>73</span>

-&ldquo;to take you home; Mrs. Loring, isn&rsquo;t

-it?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Yes, I am Mrs. Loring,&rdquo; she said, frankly

-holding out her hand to him. &ldquo;I knew you

-were expected at Stoke Revel, but I sent the

-footman back myself. He spoils the scenery

-and the river altogether.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve got a boat down there; Mrs. de

-Tracy doesn&rsquo;t quite like your taking the

-ferry; may I have the honour of rowing

-you across? My orders were to bring you

-back as soon as possible.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m blest if I hurry,&rdquo; was his unspoken

-comment as Robinette gaily agreed, and, having

-bidden good-bye to the old woman, with a

-quick caress that astonished him a good deal,

-she laid down the little shoe gently upon the

-bench, and turned to accompany him to the

-boat.</p>

-<p>The river was like a looking-glass; the air

-like balm. &ldquo;We&rsquo;ll take some time getting

-across, against the tide,&rdquo; said Lavendar reflectively,

-as he resolved that the little voyage

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_74' name='page_74'></a>74</span>

-should be prolonged to its fullest possible

-extent. He was not going into the Manor

-a moment earlier than he could help, when

-this charming person was sitting opposite to

-him. So this was Mrs. Loring! How different

-from the stout middle-aged lady whom

-Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s words had conjured up when

-he set out to find her!</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Old Mrs. Prettyman was my mother&rsquo;s

-nurse,&rdquo; Robinette remarked as Lavendar

-dipped his oars gently into the stream and began

-to row. &ldquo;I went to see her feeling quite

-grown up, and she seemed to consider me

-still a child; I was feeling about four years

-old at the moment when you appeared and

-woke me to the real world again.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>She had dried her eyes now and had pulled

-her hat down so as to shade her face, but

-Lavendar could see the traces of her weeping,

-and the dear little ineffectual rag of a

-handkerchief was still in one hand.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;What on earth was she crying about?&rdquo;

-he thought, as with lowered eyes he rowed

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_75' name='page_75'></a>75</span>

-very slowly across, only just keeping the boat&rsquo;s

-head against the current, and glancing now

-and then at the young woman.</p>

-<p>Was it possible that this lovely person was

-going to be his fellow-guest in that dull

-house? &ldquo;My word! but she&rsquo;s pretty! and

-what were the tears about ... and the

-little shoe? Did it belong to a child of her

-own? Can she be a widow, I wonder,&rdquo; said

-Lavendar to himself.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I often think,&rdquo; he said suddenly, raising

-his head, &ldquo;that when two people meet for the

-first time as utter strangers to each other,

-they should be encouraged, not forbidden, to

-ask plain questions. It may be my legal training,

-but I&rsquo;d like all conversation to begin in

-that way. As a child I was constantly reproved

-for my curiosity, especially when I once

-asked a touchy old gentleman, &lsquo;Which is

-your glass eye? The one that moves, or the

-one that stands still?&rsquo;&rdquo;</p>

-<p>The tears had dried, the hat was pushed

-back again, the young woman&rsquo;s face broke

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_76' name='page_76'></a>76</span>

-into an April smile that matched the day and

-the weather.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Oh, come, let us do it,&rdquo; she exclaimed.

-&ldquo;I&rsquo;d love to play it like a new game: we

-know nothing at all about each other, any

-more than if we had dropped from the moon

-into the boat together. Oh! do be quick!

-We&rsquo;ve so little time; the river is quite narrow;

-who&rsquo;s to open the ball?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll begin, by right of my profession;

-put the witness in the box, please.&ndash;&ndash;What

-is your name, madam?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Robinette Loring,&rdquo; she said demurely,

-clasping her hands on her knee, an almost

-childlike delight in the new game dimpling

-the corners of her mouth from time to time.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;What is your age, madam?&rdquo; Lavendar

-hesitated just for a moment before putting

-this question.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I refuse to answer; you must guess.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Contempt of Court&ndash;&ndash;&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Well, go on; I&rsquo;m twenty-two and six

-weeks.&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_77' name='page_77'></a>77</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;Thank you, you are remarkably well preserved.

-I can hardly believe&ndash;&ndash;those six-weeks!

-What nationality?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;American, of course, or half and half;

-with an English mother and American ideas.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Thank you. Where is your present place

-of residence?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Stoke Revel Manor House.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;What is the duration of the visit?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Fixed at a month, but may be shortened

-at any time for bad behaviour.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Your purpose in coming to Stoke Revel?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;A Sentimental Journey, in search of

-fond relations.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Have you found these relations?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve found them; but the fondness is still

-to seek.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Have you left your family in America?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I have no one belonging to me in the

-world,&rdquo; she answered simply, and her bright

-face clouded suddenly.</p>

-<p>There was a moment&rsquo;s rather embarrassed

-silence. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s getting to be a sad game&rdquo;;

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_78' name='page_78'></a>78</span>

-she said. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s my turn now. I&rsquo;ll be the

-cross-examiner, but not having had your

-legal training, I&rsquo;ll tell you a few facts about

-this witness to begin with. He&rsquo;s a lawyer; I

-know that already. Your Christian name,

-sir?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Mark.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Mark Lavendar. &lsquo;Mark the perfect

-man.&rsquo; Where have I heard that; in Pope

-or in the Bible? Thank you; very good;

-your age is between thirty and thirty-five,

-with a strong probability that it is thirty-three.

-Am I right?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Approximately, madam.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;You are unmarried, for married men

-don&rsquo;t play games like this; they are too

-sedate.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;You reassure me! Am I expected to acknowledge

-the truth of all your observations?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;You have only to answer my questions,

-sir.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I am unmarried, madam.&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_79' name='page_79'></a>79</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;Your nationality?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;English of course. You don&rsquo;t count a

-French grandmother, I suppose?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Robinette clapped her hands. &ldquo;Of course

-I do; it accounts for this game; it just

-makes all the difference.&ndash;&ndash;Why have you

-come to Stoke Revel; couldn&rsquo;t you help

-it?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>A twinkle passed from the blue eyes to

-the brown ones.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I am here on business connected with

-the estate.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;For how long?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;An hour ago I thought all might be

-completed in a few days, but these affairs are

-sometimes unaccountably prolonged!&rdquo; (Was

-there another twinkle? Robinette could

-hardly say.) They were half-way across the

-river now. She leaned over and looked at herself

-in the water for a moment.</p>

-<p>Lavendar rested on his oars, and began to

-rub the palms of his hands, smiling a little

-to himself as he bent his head.</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_80' name='page_80'></a>80</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;Yours is an odd Christian name,&rdquo; he

-said. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve never heard it before.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Then you haven&rsquo;t visited your National

-Gallery faithfully enough,&rdquo; said Mrs. Loring.

-&ldquo;Robinetta is one of the Sir Joshua pictures

-there, you know, and it was a great favourite

-of my mother&rsquo;s in her girlhood. Indeed she

-saved up her pin-money for nearly two years

-that she might have a good copy of it made

-to hang in her bedroom where she could

-look at it night and morning.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Then you were named after the picture?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I was named from the memory of it,&rdquo;

-said Robinette, trailing her hand through the

-clear water. &ldquo;Mother took nothing to America

-with her but my father&rsquo;s love (there was

-so much of that, it made up for all she left

-behind), so the picture was thousands of

-miles away when I was born. Mother told

-me that when I was first put into her arms

-she thought suddenly, as she saw my dark

-head, &lsquo;Here is my own Robinetta, in place of

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_81' name='page_81'></a>81</span>

-the one I left behind,&rsquo; and fell asleep straight

-away, full of joy and content.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;And they shortened the name to Robinette?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I was christened properly enough,&rdquo; she

-answered. &ldquo;It was the world that clipped

-my name&rsquo;s little wings; the world refuses

-to take me seriously; I can&rsquo;t think why,

-I&rsquo;m sure; I never regarded <i>it</i> as a joke.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;A joke,&rdquo; said Lavendar reflectively;

-&ldquo;it&rsquo;s a sort of grim one at times; and yet

-it&rsquo;s funny too,&rdquo; he said, suddenly raising his

-eyes.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Now that&rsquo;s the odd thing I was thinking

-as I looked at you just now,&rdquo; Robinette said

-frankly. &ldquo;You seem so deadly solemn until

-you look up and laugh&ndash;&ndash;and then you <i>do</i>

-laugh, you know. That&rsquo;s the French grandmother

-again! It was nice in her to marry

-your grandfather! It helped a lot!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>He laughed then certainly, and so did

-she, and then pointed out to him that

-they were being slowly drifted out of their

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_82' name='page_82'></a>82</span>

-course, and that if he meant to get across

-to the landing-stage he must row a little

-harder.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I have met American women casually;&rdquo;

-he said, bending to his oars, &ldquo;but I have

-never known one well.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s rather too bad to disturb the tranquillity

-of your impressions,&rdquo; returned Mrs.

-Loring composedly.</p>

-<p>Lavendar looked up with another twinkle.

-She seemed to provoke twinkles; he did not

-realize he had so many in stock.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;You mean American women are not

-painted in quite the right colours?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I suppose black <i>is</i> a colour?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Oh! I see your point of view!&rdquo; and

-Lavendar twinkled again.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I can tell you in five sentences exactly

-what you have heard about us. Will you say

-whether I am right? If you refuse I&rsquo;ll put

-you in the witness box and then you&rsquo;ll be

-forced to speak!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Very well; proceed.&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_83' name='page_83'></a>83</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;One: We are clever, good conversationalists,

-and as cold as icicles.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Two: We dress beautifully and use extravagant

-means to compass our ends in this

-direction.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Three: We keep our overworked husbands

-under strict discipline.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Yes! I say,&ndash;&ndash;I don&rsquo;t like this game.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Neither do I, but it&rsquo;s very much

-played,&ndash;&ndash;&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Four: We prefer hotels to home life and

-don&rsquo;t bring up our children well.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Five: We interfere with the proper game

-laws by bagging English husbands instead

-of staying on our own preserves. That&rsquo;s about

-all, I think. Were not those rumours tolerably

-familiar to you in the ha&rsquo;penny papers

-and their human counterparts?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Lavendar was so amused by this direct

-storming of his opinion that he could hardly

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_84' name='page_84'></a>84</span>

-keep his laughter within bounds. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve

-heard one other criticism,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that

-you were all pretty and all had small feet and

-hands! I am now able to declare that to be

-a base calumny and to hope that all the

-others will prove just as false!&rdquo; Then Robinette

-laughed too; eyes, lips, cheeks! When

-Lavendar looked at her he wished that his

-father would keep him at Stoke Revel for a

-month.</p>

-<p>The sun was going down now, and the

-rising tide came swelling up from the sea,

-lifting itself and silently swelling the volume

-of the river, in a way that had something

-awful about it. The whole current of the

-great stream was against it, but behind was

-the force of the sea and so it filled and filled

-with hardly a ripple, as the heart is filled

-with a new desire. Up from the mouth of

-the river came a faint breeze bringing the

-taste of the ocean into the deeply wooded

-creeks. It had freshened into a little wind, as

-they drew up at the boat-house, that flapped

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_85' name='page_85'></a>85</span>

-Robinette&rsquo;s blue cape about her, and dyed

-the colour in her cheeks to a livelier tint.

-As they walked up the narrow pathway to the

-house a deep silence fell between them that

-neither attempted to break.</p>

-<p>At the top of the hill, she paused to take

-breath, and look across the river. It was

-half dark already there, on the other side in

-the deep shadow of the hill; and a lamp in

-the window of the cottage shone like a star

-beside the faintly green shape of the budding

-plum tree.</p>

-<p>As Robinette entered the door of the

-Manor House she took out her little gold-meshed

-purse and handed Mark Lavendar a

-penny.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s none too much,&rdquo; she said, meeting

-his astonished gaze with a smile. &ldquo;I should

-have had to pay it on the public ferry, and

-you were ever so much nicer than the footman!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Lavendar put the penny in his waistcoat

-pocket and has never spent it to this day. It

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_86' name='page_86'></a>86</span>

-is impossible to explain these things; one

-can only state them as facts. Another fact,

-too, that he suddenly remembered, when he

-went to his room, was, that the moment her

-personality touched his he was filled with

-curiosity about her. He had met hundreds

-of women and enjoyed their conversation,

-but seldom longed to know on the instant

-everything that had previously happened to

-them.</p>

-<hr class='toprule' />

-<div class='chsp'>

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_87' name='page_87'></a>87</span>

-<a name='VIII_SUNDAY_AT_STOKE_REVEL' id='VIII_SUNDAY_AT_STOKE_REVEL'></a>

-<h2>VIII</h2>

-<h3>SUNDAY AT STOKE REVEL</h3>

-</div>

-<p>On Sundays, the Stoke Revel household

-was expected to appear at church in full

-strength, visitors included.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;We meet in the hall punctually at a

-quarter to eleven,&rdquo; it was Miss Smeardon&rsquo;s

-duty to announce to strangers. &ldquo;Mrs. de

-Tracy always prefers that the Stoke Revel

-guests should walk down together, as it sets

-a good example to the villagers.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;What Nelson said about going to church

-with Lady Hamilton!&rdquo; Lavendar had once

-commented, irrepressibly, but the allusion,

-rather fortunately, was lost upon Miss Smeardon.

-Mark began to picture the familiar

-Sunday scene to himself; Miss Smeardon in

-the hall at a quarter to eleven punctually,

-marshalling the church-goers; and Mrs. Loring,&ndash;&ndash;she

-would be late of course, and

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_88' name='page_88'></a>88</span>

-come fluttering downstairs in some bewitching

-combination of flowery hat and floating

-scarf that no one had ever seen before. What

-a lover&rsquo;s opportunity in this lateness, thought

-the young man to himself; but one could

-enjoy a walk to church in charming company,

-though something less than a lover.</p>

-<p>It was Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s custom, on Sunday

-mornings, to precede her household by half

-an hour in going to the sanctuary. No infirmities

-of old age had invaded her iron

-constitution, and it was nothing to her to

-walk alone to the church of Stoke Revel,

-steep though the hill was which led down

-through the ancient village to the yet more

-ancient edifice at its foot. During this solitary

-interval, Mrs. de Tracy visited her husband&rsquo;s

-tomb, and no one knew, or dared, or

-cared to enquire, what motive encouraged

-this pious action in a character so devoid of

-tenderness and sentiment. Was it affection,

-was it duty, was it a mere form, a tribute to

-the greatness of an owner of Stoke Revel,

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_89' name='page_89'></a>89</span>

-such as a nation pays to a dead king? Who

-could tell?</p>

-<p>The graveyard of Stoke Revel owned a

-yew tree, so very, very old that the count of

-its years was lost and had become a fable or

-a fairy tale. It was twisted, gnarled, and low;

-and its long branches, which would have

-reached the ground, were upheld, like the

-arms of some dying patriarch, by supports,

-themselves old and moss-grown. Under the

-spreading of this ancient tree were graves,

-and from the carved, age-eaten porch of the

-church, a path led among them, under the

-green tunnel, out into the sunny space beyond

-it. The Admiral lay in a vault of which

-the door was at the side of the church, for no

-de Tracy, of course, could occupy a mere

-grave, like one of the common herd; and

-here walked the funereal figure of Mrs. de

-Tracy, fair weather or foul, nearly every

-Sunday in the year.</p>

-<p>In justice to Mrs. de Tracy, it must be

-made plain that with all her faults, small

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_90' name='page_90'></a>90</span>

-spite was not a part of her character. Yet to-day,

-her anger had been stirred by an incident

-so small that its very triviality annoyed

-her pride. It was Mark Lavendar&rsquo;s custom,

-when his visits to Stoke Revel included a

-Sunday, cheerfully to evade church-going.

-His Sundays in the country were few, he

-said, and he preferred to enjoy them in the

-temple of nature, generally taking a long

-walk before lunch. But to-day he had announced

-his intention of coming to service,

-and well Mrs. de Tracy, versed in men and

-in human nature, knew why. Robinette

-would be there, and Lavendar followed, as

-the bee follows a basket of flowers on a

-summer day. As Mrs. de Tracy, like the

-Stoic that she was, accepted all the inevitable

-facts of life,&ndash;&ndash;birth, death, love, hate (she

-had known them all in her day), she accepted

-this one also. But in that atrophy of every

-feeling except bitterness, that atrophy which

-is perhaps the only real solitude, the only real

-old age, her animosity was stirred. It was as

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_91' name='page_91'></a>91</span>

-though a dead branch upon some living tree

-was angry with the spring for breathing on

-it. As she returned, herself unseen in the

-shadow of the yew tree, she saw Lavendar

-and Robinette enter together under the lych-gate,

-the figure of the young woman touched

-with sunlight and colour, her lips moving,

-and Lavendar smiling in answer. In the

-clashing of the bells&ndash;&ndash;bells which shook the

-air, the earth, the ancient stones, the very

-nests upon the trees&ndash;&ndash;their voices were inaudible,

-but in their faces was a young happiness

-and hope to which the solitary woman

-could not blind herself.</p>

-<p>Presently in the lukewarm air within, Robinette

-was finding the church&rsquo;s immemorial

-smell of prayer-books, hassocks, decaying

-wood, damp stones, matting, school-children,

-and altar flowers, a harmonious and suggestive

-one if not pleasant. What an ancient air it

-was, she thought; breathed and re-breathed

-by slow generations of Stoke Revellers during

-their sleepy devotions! The very light that

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_92' name='page_92'></a>92</span>

-entered through the dim stained glass seemed

-old and dusty, it had seen so much during

-so many hundred years, seen so much, and

-found out so many secrets! Soon the clashing

-of the bells ceased and upon the still

-reverberating silence there broke the small,

-snoring noises of a rather ineffectual organ,

-while the amiable curate, Rev. Tobias Finch,

-made his appearance, and the service began.</p>

-<p>Mrs. de Tracy had entered the pew first,

-naturally; Miss Smeardon sat next, then

-Robinetta. Lavendar occupied the pew in

-front, alone, and through her half-closed

-eyelids Robinetta could see the line of his lean

-cheek and bony temple. He had not wished

-to sit there at all and he was so unresigned as

-to be badly in need of the soothing influences

-of Morning Prayer. Robinetta was beginning

-to wonder dreamily what manner of man this

-really was, behind his plain face and non-committal

-manner, when the muffled slam of a

-door behind, startled her, followed as it was

-by a quick step upon the matted aisle. Then

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_93' name='page_93'></a>93</span>

-without further warning, a big, broad-shouldered

-boy, in the uniform of a British midshipman,

-thrust himself into the pew beside

-her, hot and breathless after running hard.

-Mrs. Loring guessed at once that this must

-be Carnaby de Tracy, the young hopeful and

-heir of Stoke Revel of whom Mr. Lavendar

-had so often spoken, but the startling and unconventional

-nature of his appearance was

-not at all what one expected in a member of

-his family. Robinette stole more than one

-look at him as the offertory went round;

-a robust boy with a square chin, a fair face

-burnt red by the sun, a rollicking eye and an

-impudent nose; not handsome certainly, indeed

-quite plain, but he looked honest and

-strong and clean, and Robinette&rsquo;s frolicsome

-youth was drawn to his, all ready for fun.

-Carnaby hitched about a good deal, dropped

-his hymn-book, moved the hassock, took out

-his handkerchief, and on discovering a huge

-hole, turned crimson.</p>

-<p>Service over, the congregation shuffled out

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_94' name='page_94'></a>94</span>

-into the sunshine, and Mrs. de Tracy, after a

-characteristically cool and disapproving recognition

-of her grandson, became occupied

-with villagers. Lavendar made known young

-Carnaby to Mrs. David Loring, but the midshipman&rsquo;s

-light grey eyes had discovered the

-pretty face without any assistance.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;This lady is your American cousin, Carnaby,&rdquo;

-said Mark. &ldquo;Did you know you had

-one?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t think I did,&rdquo; answered the boy,

-&ldquo;but it&rsquo;s never too late to mend!&rdquo; He attempted

-a bow of finished grown-upness,

-failed somewhat, and melted at once into an engaging

-boyishness, under which his frank admiration

-of his new-found relative was not to

-be hidden. &ldquo;I say, are you stopping at Stoke

-Revel?&rdquo; he asked, as though the news were

-too good to be true. &ldquo;Jolly! Hullo&ndash;&ndash;&rdquo; he

-broke off with animation as the cassocked

-figure of the Rev. Tobias Finch fluttered out

-from the porch&ndash;&ndash;&ldquo;here&rsquo;s old Toby! Watch

-Miss Smeardon now! She expects to catch

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_95' name='page_95'></a>95</span>

-him, you know, but he says he&rsquo;s going to be a

-celly&ndash;&ndash;celly-what-d&rsquo;you-call-&rsquo;em?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Celibate?&rdquo; suggested Lavendar, with

-laughing eyes.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;The very word, thank you!&rdquo; said Carnaby.

-&ldquo;Yes: a celibate. Not so easily nicked,

-good old Toby&ndash;&ndash;you bet!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Do the clergymen over here always dress

-like that?&rdquo; inquired Robinetta, trying to

-suppress a tendency to laugh at his slang.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Cassock?&rdquo; said Carnaby. &ldquo;Toby wouldn&rsquo;t

-be seen without it. High, you know!

-Bicycles in it. Fact! Goes to bed in it, I

-believe.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Carnaby, Carnaby! Come away!&rdquo; said

-Lavendar. &ldquo;Restrain these flights of imagination!

-Don&rsquo;t you see how they shock Mrs.

-Loring?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Before the Manor was reached, Robinetta

-and Carnaby had sworn eternal friendship

-deeper than any cousinship, they both declared.

-They met upon a sort of platform of

-Stoke Revel, predestined to sympathy upon

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_96' name='page_96'></a>96</span>

-all its salient characteristics; two naughty

-children on a holiday.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Do you get enough to eat here?&rdquo; asked

-Carnaby in a hollow whisper, in the drawing-room

-before lunch.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Of course I have enough, Middy,&rdquo; answered

-Robinetta with unconscious reservation.

-She had rejected &ldquo;Carnaby&rdquo; at once

-as a name quite impossible: he was &ldquo;Middy&rdquo;

-to her almost from the first moment of their

-acquaintance.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Enough?&rdquo; he ejaculated, &ldquo;<i>I</i> don&rsquo;t! I&rsquo;d

-never be fed if it weren&rsquo;t for old Bates and

-Mrs. Smith and Cooky.&rdquo; Bates was the butler,

-Mrs. Smith the housekeeper, and Cooky

-her satellite. &ldquo;Nobody gets enough to eat in

-this house!&rdquo; added Carnaby darkly, &ldquo;except

-the dog.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>At the lunch-table, the antagonism natural

-between a hot-blooded impetuous boy and a

-grandmother such as Mrs. de Tracy became

-rather painfully apparent. He had already

-been hauled over the coals for his arrival on

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_97' name='page_97'></a>97</span>

-Sunday and his indecorous appearance in

-church after service had begun.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It does not appear to me that you are at

-all in need of sick-leave,&rdquo; said Mrs. de Tracy

-suspiciously.</p>

-<p>Carnaby, sensitive for all his robustness,

-flushed hotly, and then became impertinent.

-&ldquo;My pulse is twenty beats too quick still,

-after quinsy. If you don&rsquo;t believe the doctor,

-ma&rsquo;am, it&rsquo;s not my fault.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Carnaby has committed indiscretions in

-the way of growing since I last saw him,&rdquo;

-Lavendar broke in hastily. &ldquo;At sixteen one

-may easily outgrow one&rsquo;s strength!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Indeed!&rdquo; said Mrs. de Tracy, frigidly.

-The situation was saved by the behaviour of

-the lap-dog, which suddenly burst into a

-passion of barking and convulsive struggling

-in Miss Smeardon&rsquo;s arms. His enemy had

-come, and Carnaby had fifty ways of exasperating

-his grandmother&rsquo;s favourite, secrets

-between him and the bewildered dog. Rupert

-was a Prince Charles of pedigree as

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_98' name='page_98'></a>98</span>

-unquestioned as his mistress&rsquo;s and an appearance

-dating back to Vandyke, but Carnaby

-always addressed him as &ldquo;Lord Roberts,&rdquo;

-for reasons of his own. It annoyed his

-grandmother and it infuriated the dog, who

-took it for a deadly insult.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Lord Roberts! Bobs, old man, hi! hi!&rdquo;

-Carnaby had but to say the words to make

-the little dog convulsive. He said them now,

-and the results seemed likely to be fatal to

-a dropsical animal so soon after a full meal.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;You&rsquo;ll kill him!&rdquo; whispered Robinette

-as they left the dining room.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I mean to!&rdquo; was the calm reply. &ldquo;I&rsquo;d

-like to wring old Smeardon&rsquo;s neck too!&rdquo; but

-the broad good humour of the rosy face, the

-twinkling eyes, belied these truculent words.

-In spite of infinite powers of mischief, there

-was not an ounce of vindictiveness in Carnaby

-de Tracy, though there might be other

-qualities difficult to deal with.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;There&rsquo;s a man to be made there&ndash;&ndash;or to

-be marred!&rdquo; said Robinette to herself.</p>

-<hr class='toprule' />

-<div class='chsp'>

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_99' name='page_99'></a>99</span>

-<a name='IX_POINTS_OF_VIEW' id='IX_POINTS_OF_VIEW'></a>

-<h2>IX</h2>

-<h3>POINTS OF VIEW</h3>

-</div>

-<p>Evenings at Stoke Revel were of a dullness

-all too deep to be sounded and too closely

-hedged in by tradition and observance to be

-evaded or shortened by the boldest visitor.

-Lavendar and the boy would have prolonged

-their respite in the smoking room had they

-dared, but in these later days Lavendar found

-he wished to be below on guard. The thought

-of Robinette alone between the two women

-downstairs made him uneasy. It was as though

-some bird of bright plumage had strayed into

-a barnyard to be pecked at by hens. Not but

-what he realised that this particular bird had

-a spirit of her own, and plenty of courage,

-but no man with even a prospective interest

-in a pretty woman, likes to think of the

-object of his admiration as thoroughly well

-able to look after herself. She must needs

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_100' name='page_100'></a>100</span>

-have a protector, and the heaven-sent one is

-himself.</p>

-<p>He had to take up arms in her defense

-on this, the first night of his arrival. Mrs.

-Loring had gone up to her room for some

-photographs of her house in America, and

-as she flitted through the door her scarf

-caught on the knob, and he had been obliged

-to extricate it. He had known her exactly

-four hours, and although he was unconscious

-of it, his heart was being pulled along the

-passage and up the stairway at the tail-end

-of that wisp of chiffon, while he listened to

-her retreating footsteps. Closing the door

-he came back to Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s side.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Her dress is indecorous for a widow,&rdquo;

-said that lady severely.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Oh, I don&rsquo;t see that,&rdquo; replied Lavendar.

-&ldquo;She is in reality only a girl, and her widowhood

-has already lasted two years, you say.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Once a widow always a widow,&rdquo; returned

-Mrs. de Tracy sententiously, with a self-respecting

-glance at her own cap and the half-dozen

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_101' name='page_101'></a>101</span>

-dull jet ornaments she affected. Lavendar

-laughed outright, but she rather liked

-his laughter: it made her think herself witty.

-Once he had told her she was &ldquo;delicious,&rdquo;

-and she had never forgotten it.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s going pretty far, my dear lady,&rdquo;

-he replied. &ldquo;Not all women are so faithful

-to a memory as you. I understand Americans

-don&rsquo;t wear weeds, and to me her blue cape

-is a delightful note in the landscape. Her

-dresses are conventional and proper, and I

-fancy she cannot express herself without a

-bit of colour.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;The object of clothing, Mark, is to cover

-and to protect yourself, not to express yourself,&rdquo;

-said Mrs. de Tracy bitingly.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;The thought of wearing anything bright

-always makes me shrink,&rdquo; remarked Miss

-Smeardon, who had never apparently observed

-the tip of her own nose, &ldquo;but some persons

-are less sensitive on these points than

-others.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Mrs. de Tracy bowed an approving assent

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_102' name='page_102'></a>102</span>

-to this. &ldquo;A widow&rsquo;s only concern should

-be to refrain from attracting notice,&rdquo; she

-said, as though quoting from a private book

-of proverbial philosophy soon to be published.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Then Mrs. Loring might as well have

-burned herself on her husband&rsquo;s funeral pyre,

-Hindoo fashion!&rdquo; argued Lavendar. &ldquo;A

-woman&rsquo;s life hasn&rsquo;t ended at two and

-twenty. It&rsquo;s hardly begun, and I fear the

-lady in question will arouse attention whatever

-she wears.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Would she be called attractive?&rdquo; asked

-Mrs. de Tracy with surprise.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Oh, yes, without a doubt!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;In gentlemen&rsquo;s eyes, I suppose you

-mean?&rdquo; said Miss Smeardon.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Yes, in gentlemen&rsquo;s eyes,&rdquo; answered

-Lavendar, firmly. &ldquo;Those of women are apparently

-furnished with different lenses. But

-here comes the fair object of our discussion,

-so we must decide it later on.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>The question of ancestors, a favourite one

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_103' name='page_103'></a>103</span>

-at Stoke Revel, came up in the course of the

-next evening&rsquo;s conversation, and Lavendar

-found Robinette a trifle flushed but smiling

-under a double fire of questions from Mrs.

-de Tracy and her companion. Mrs. de Tracy

-was in her usual chair, knitting; Miss

-Smeardon sat by the table with a piece

-of fancy-work; Robinette had pulled a

-foot-stool to the hearthrug and sat as near

-the flames as she conveniently could. She

-shielded her face with the last copy of

-<i>Punch</i>, and let her shoulders bask in the

-warmth of the fire, which made flickering

-shadows on her creamy neck. Her white

-skirts swept softly round her feet, and her

-favourite turquoise scarf made a note of colour

-in her lap. She was one of those women

-who, without positive beauty, always make

-pictures of themselves.</p>

-<p>Lavendar analyzed her looks as he joined

-the circle, pretending to read. &ldquo;She isn&rsquo;t

-posing,&rdquo; he thought, &ldquo;but she ought to be

-painted. She ought always to be painted,

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_104' name='page_104'></a>104</span>

-each time one sees her, for everything about

-her suggests a portrait. That blue ribbon

-in her hair is fairly distracting! What the

-dickens is the reason one wants to look at

-her all the time! I&rsquo;ve seen far handsomer

-women!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Do you use Burke and Debrett in your

-country, Mrs. Loring?&rdquo; Miss Smeardon was

-enquiring politely, as she laid down one red

-volume after the other, having ascertained

-the complete family tree of a lady who had

-called that afternoon.</p>

-<p>Robinette smiled. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m afraid we&rsquo;ve nothing

-but telephone or business directories,

-social registers, and &lsquo;Who&rsquo;s Who,&rsquo; in America,&rdquo;

-she said.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;You are not interested in questions of

-genealogy, I suppose?&rdquo; asked Mrs. de Tracy

-pityingly.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I can hardly say that. But I think

-perhaps that we are more occupied with the

-future than with the past.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;That is natural,&rdquo; assented the lady of the

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_105' name='page_105'></a>105</span>

-Manor, &ldquo;since you have so much more of

-it, haven&rsquo;t you? But the mixture of races

-in your country,&rdquo; she continued condescendingly,

-&ldquo;must have made you indifferent to

-purity of strain.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I hope we are not wholly indifferent,&rdquo;

-said Robinette, as though she were stopping

-to consider. &ldquo;I think every serious-minded

-person must be proud to inherit fine qualities

-and to pass them on. Surely it isn&rsquo;t enough

-to give <i>old</i> blood to the next generation&ndash;&ndash;it

-must be <i>good</i> blood. Yes! the right stock

-certainly means something to an American.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;But if you&rsquo;ve nothing that answers to

-Burke and Debrett, I don&rsquo;t see how you can

-find out anybody&rsquo;s pedigree,&rdquo; objected Miss

-Smeardon. Then with an air of innocent

-curiosity and a glance supposed to be arch,

-&ldquo;Are the Red Indians, the Negroes, and the

-Chinese in your so-called directories?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;As many of them as are in business, or

-have won their way to any position among

-men no doubt are there, I suppose,&rdquo; answered

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_106' name='page_106'></a>106</span>

-Robinette straightforwardly. &ldquo;I think we

-just guess at people&rsquo;s ancestry by the way

-they look, act, and speak,&rdquo; she continued

-musingly. &ldquo;You can &lsquo;guess&rsquo; quite well if

-you are clever at it. No Indians or Chinese

-ever dine with me, Miss Smeardon, though

-I&rsquo;d rather like a peaceful Indian at dinner

-for a change; but I expect he&rsquo;d find me very

-dull and uneventful!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Dull!&ndash;&ndash;that&rsquo;s a word I very often hear

-on American lips,&rdquo; broke in Lavendar as he

-looked over the top of Henry Newbolt&rsquo;s

-poems. &ldquo;I believe being dull is thought a

-criminal offence in your country. Now,

-isn&rsquo;t there some danger involved in this

-fear of dullness?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I shouldn&rsquo;t wonder,&rdquo; Robinette answered

-thoughtfully, looking into the fire.

-&ldquo;Yes; I dare say there is, but I&rsquo;m afraid

-there are social and mental dangers involved

-in <i>not</i> being afraid of it, too!&rdquo; Her mischievous

-eyes swept the room, with Mrs. de

-Tracy&rsquo;s solemn figure and Miss Smeardon&rsquo;s

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_107' name='page_107'></a>107</span>

-for its bright ornaments. &ldquo;The moment a

-person or a nation allows itself to be too dull,

-it ceases to be quite alive, doesn&rsquo;t it? But

-as to us Americans, Mr. Lavendar, bear with

-us for a few years, we are so ridiculously

-young! It is our growing time, and what you

-want in a young plant is growth, isn&rsquo;t it?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Y-yes,&rdquo; Lavendar replied: then with a

-twinkle in his blue eyes he added: &ldquo;Only

-somehow we don&rsquo;t like to hear a plant grow!

-It should manage to perform the operation

-quite silently, showing not processes but results.

-That&rsquo;s a counsel of perfection, perhaps,

-but don&rsquo;t slay me for plain-speaking,

-Mrs. Loring!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Robinette laughed. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll never slay you

-for saying anything so wise and true as

-that!&rdquo; she said, and Lavendar, flushing

-under her praise, was charmed with her good

-humour.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;America&rsquo;s a very large country, is it

-not?&rdquo; enquired Miss Smeardon with her

-usual brilliancy. &ldquo;What is its area?&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_108' name='page_108'></a>108</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;Bigger than England, but not as big as

-the British Empire!&rdquo; suggested Carnaby,

-feeling the conversation was drifting into

-his ken.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s just the size of the moon, I&rsquo;ve

-heard!&rdquo; said Robinette teasingly. &ldquo;Does

-that throw any light on the question?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Moonlight!&rdquo; laughed Carnaby, much

-pleased with his own wit. &ldquo;Ha! ha! That&rsquo;s

-the first joke I&rsquo;ve made this holidays. <i>Moonlight!</i>

-Jolly good!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;If you&rsquo;d take a joke a little more in

-your stride, my son,&rdquo; said Lavendar, &ldquo;we

-should be more impressed by your mental

-sparkles.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Straighten the sofa-cushions, Carnaby,&rdquo;

-said his grandmother, &ldquo;and don&rsquo;t lounge.

-I missed the point of your so-called joke

-entirely. As to the size of a country or anything

-else, I have never understood that it

-affected its quality. In fruit or vegetables,

-for instance, it generally means coarseness

-and indifferent flavour.&rdquo; Miss Smeardon

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_109' name='page_109'></a>109</span>

-beamed at this palpable hit, but Mrs. Loring

-deprived the situation of its point by

-backing up Mrs. de Tracy heartily. She had

-no opinion of mere size, either, she declared.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;You don&rsquo;t stand up for your country

-half enough,&rdquo; objected Carnaby to his cousin.

-(&ldquo;Why don&rsquo;t you give the old cat beans?&rdquo;

-was his supplement, <i>sotto voce</i>.)</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Just attack some of my pet theories and

-convictions, Middy dear, if you wish to see

-me in a rage,&rdquo; said Robinette lightly, &ldquo;but

-my motto will never be &lsquo;My country right or

-wrong.&rsquo;&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Nor mine,&rdquo; agreed Lavendar. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m

-heartily with you there.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s a great venture we&rsquo;re trying in

-America. I wish every one would try to look

-at it in that light,&rdquo; said Robinette with a

-slight flush of earnestness.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;What do you mean by a venture?&rdquo;

-asked Mrs. de Tracy.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;The experiment we&rsquo;re making in democracy,&rdquo;

-answered Robinette. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s fallen to

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_110' name='page_110'></a>110</span>

-us to try it, for of course it simply had to be

-tried. It is thrillingly interesting, whatever it

-may turn out, and I wish I might live to see

-the end of it. We are creating a race, Aunt

-de Tracy; think of that!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s as difficult for nations as for individuals

-to hit the happy medium,&rdquo; said Lavendar,

-stirring the fire. &ldquo;Enterprise carried

-too far becomes vulgar hustling, while stability

-and conservatism often pass the coveted

-point of repose and degenerate into

-torpor.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;This part of England seems to me singularly

-free from faults,&rdquo; interposed Mrs. de

-Tracy in didactic tones. &ldquo;We have a wonderful

-climate; more sunshine than in any

-part of the island, I believe. Our local society

-is singularly free from scandal. The

-clergy, if not quite as eloquent or profound

-as in London (and in my opinion it is the

-better for being neither) is strictly conscientious.

-We have no burglars or locusts or

-gnats or even midges, as I&rsquo;m told they unfortunately

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_111' name='page_111'></a>111</span>

-have in Scotland, and our dinner-parties,

-though quiet and dignified, are never

-dull.... What is the matter, Robinetta?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;A sudden catch in my throat,&rdquo; said Robinette,

-struggling with some sort of vocal

-difficulty and avoiding Lavendar&rsquo;s eye.

-&ldquo;Thank you,&rdquo; as he offered her a glass

-of water from the punctual and strictly temperate

-evening tray. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t look at me,&rdquo;

-she added under her voice.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Not for a million of money!&rdquo; he whispered.

-Then he said aloud: &ldquo;If I ever stand

-for Parliament, Mrs. Loring, I should like

-you to help me with my constituency!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>The unruffled temper and sweet reasonableness

-of Robinette&rsquo;s answers to questions

-by no means always devoid of malice, had

-struck the young man very much, as he listened.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;She is good!&rdquo; he thought to himself.

-&ldquo;Good and sweet and generous. Her loveliness

-is not only in her face; it is in her

-heart.&rdquo; And some favorite lines began to

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_112' name='page_112'></a>112</span>

-run in his head that night, with new conviction:&ndash;&ndash;</p>

-<table summary=''><tr><td>

-<p class='cg'>He that loves a rosy cheek,<br />

-<span class='indent2'>&nbsp;</span>Or a coral lip admires,<br />

-Or from star-like eyes doth seek<br />

-<span class='indent2'>&nbsp;</span>Fuel to maintain his fires,&ndash;&ndash;<br />

-As old Time makes these decay,<br />

-<span class='indent2'>&nbsp;</span>So his flames will waste away.<br />

-<br />

-But a smooth and steadfast mind,<br />

-<span class='indent2'>&nbsp;</span>Gentle thoughts and calm desires,<br />

-Hearts with equal love combined&ndash;&ndash;</p>

-</td></tr></table>

-<p>but here Lavendar broke off with a laugh.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s not come to that yet!&rdquo; he thought.

-&ldquo;I wonder if it ever will?&rdquo;</p>

-<hr class='toprule' />

-<div class='chsp'>

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_113' name='page_113'></a>113</span>

-<a name='X_A_NEW_KINSMAN' id='X_A_NEW_KINSMAN'></a>

-<h2>X</h2>

-<h3>A NEW KINSMAN</h3>

-</div>

-<p>Young Mrs. Loring was making her way

-slowly at Stoke Revel Manor, and Mrs. de

-Tracy, though never affectionate, treated her

-with a little less indifference as the days went

-on. &ldquo;The Admiral&rsquo;s niece is a lady,&rdquo; she admitted

-to herself privately; &ldquo;not perhaps the

-highest type of English lady; that, considering

-her mixed ancestry and American education,

-would be too much to expect; but in

-the broad, general meaning of the word, unmistakably

-a lady!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Mrs. Benson, though not melting outwardly

-as yet, held more lenient views still

-with regard to the American guest. Bates,

-the butler, was elderly, and severely Church

-of England; his knowledge of widows was

-confined to the type ably represented by his

-mistress and he regarded young Mrs. Loring

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_114' name='page_114'></a>114</span>

-as inclined to be &ldquo;flighty.&rdquo; The footman,

-who was entirely under the butler&rsquo;s thumb

-in mundane matters, had fallen into the

-habit of sharing his opinions, and while

-agreeing in the general feeling of flightiness,

-declared boldly that the lady in question

-gave a certain &ldquo;style&rdquo; to the dinner-table that

-it had lacked before her advent.</p>

-<p>For a helpless victim, however, a slave

-bound in fetters of steel, one would have to

-know Cummins, the under housemaid, who

-lighted Mrs. Loring&rsquo;s fire night and morning.

-She was young, shy, country bred, and new to

-service. When Mrs. Benson sent her to the

-guest&rsquo;s room at eight o&rsquo;clock on the morning

-after her arrival she stopped outside the door

-in a panic of fear.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Come in!&rdquo; called a cheerful voice.

-&ldquo;Come in!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Cummins entered, bearing her box with

-brush and cloth and kindlings. To her further

-embarrassment Mrs. Loring was sitting

-up in bed with an ermine coat on, over which

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_115' name='page_115'></a>115</span>

-her bright hair fell in picturesque disorder.

-She had brought the coat for theatre and

-opera, but as these attractions were lacking

-at Stoke Revel and as life there was, to her,

-one prolonged Polar expedition, with dashes

-farthest north morning and evening, she had

-diverted it to practical uses.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Make me a quick fire please, a big fire,

-a hot fire,&rdquo; she begged, &ldquo;or I shall be late

-for breakfast; I never can step into that tin

-tub till the ice is melted.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;There&rsquo;s no ice in it, ma&rsquo;am,&rdquo; expostulated

-Cummins gently, with the voice of a

-wood dove.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;You can&rsquo;t see it because you&rsquo;re English,&rdquo;

-said the strange lady, &ldquo;but I can see

-it and feel it. Oh, you make <i>such</i> a good

-fire! What is your name, please?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Cummins, ma&rsquo;am.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;There&rsquo;s another Cummins downstairs,

-but she is tall and large. You shall be &lsquo;Little

-Cummins.&rsquo;&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Now every morning the shy maid palpitated

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_116' name='page_116'></a>116</span>

-outside the bedroom door, having given

-her modest knock; palpitated for fear it

-should be all a dream. But no, it was not!

-there would be a clear-voiced &ldquo;Come in!&rdquo;

-and then, as she entered; &ldquo;Good morning,

-Little Cummins. I&rsquo;ve been longing for you

-since daybreak!&rdquo; A trifle later on it was,

-&ldquo;Good Little Cummins bearing coals of comfort!

-Kind Little Cummins,&rdquo; and other

-strange and wonderful terms of praise, until

-Little Cummins felt herself consumed by a

-passion to which Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s coals became

-as less than naught unless they could

-be heaped on the altar of the beloved.</p>

-<p>So life went on at Stoke Revel, outwardly

-even and often dull, while in reality many

-subtle changes were taking place below the

-surface; changes slight in themselves but

-not without meaning.</p>

-<p>Robinette ran up to her room directly

-after breakfast one morning and pinned on

-her hat as she came downstairs. Mark Lavendar

-had gone to London for a few days,

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_117' name='page_117'></a>117</span>

-but even the dullness of breakfast-table conversation

-had not robbed her of her joy in

-the early sunshine, made more cheery by the

-prospect of a walk with Carnaby, with whom

-she was now fast friends.</p>

-<p>Carnaby looked at her beamingly as they

-stood together on the steps. &ldquo;You&rsquo;re the

-best turned-out woman of my acquaintance,&rdquo;

-he said approvingly, with a laughable struggle

-for the tone of a middle-aged man of the

-world.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;How many ladies of fashion do you

-know, my child?&rdquo; enquired Robinetta, pulling

-on her gloves.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I see a lot of &rsquo;em off and on,&rdquo; Carnaby

-answered somewhat huffily, &ldquo;and they don&rsquo;t

-call me a child either!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t they? Then that&rsquo;s because they&rsquo;re

-timid and don&rsquo;t dare address a future Admiral

-as Infant-in-Arms! Come on, Middy

-dear, let&rsquo;s walk.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Robinette wore a white serge dress and

-jacket, and her hat was a rough straw turned

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_118' name='page_118'></a>118</span>

-up saucily in two places with black owls&rsquo;

-heads. Mrs. Benson and Little Cummins had

-looked at it curiously while Robinette was at

-breakfast.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;&rsquo;Tis black underneath and white on top,

-Mrs. Benson. &rsquo;Ow can that be? It looks as

-if one &rsquo;at &rsquo;ad been clapped on another!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s what it is, Cummins. It&rsquo;s a

-double hat; but they&rsquo;ll do anything in America.

-It&rsquo;s a double hat with two black owls&rsquo;

-heads, and I&rsquo;ll wager they charged double

-price for it!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;She&rsquo;s a lovely beauty in anythink and

-everythink she wears,&rdquo; said Little Cummins

-loyally.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;May I call you &lsquo;Cousin Robin&rsquo;?&rdquo; Carnaby

-asked as they walked along. &ldquo;Robinette

-is such a long name.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Cousin Robin is very nice, I think,&rdquo; she

-answered. &ldquo;As a matter of fact I ought to

-be your Aunt Robin; it would be much more

-appropriate.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Aunt be blowed!&rdquo; ejaculated Carnaby.</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_119' name='page_119'></a>119</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;You&rsquo;re very fond of making yourself out

-old, but it&rsquo;s no go! When I first heard you

-were a widow I thought you would be grandmother&rsquo;s

-age,&ndash;&ndash;I say&ndash;&ndash;do you think you

-will marry another time, Cousin Robin?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s a very leading question for a

-gentleman to put to a lady! Were you intending

-to ask me to wait for you, Middy dear?&rdquo;

-asked Robinette, putting her arm in the boy&rsquo;s

-laughingly, quite unconscious of his mood.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;d wait quick enough if you&rsquo;d let me!

-I&rsquo;d wait a lifetime! There never was anybody

-like you in the world!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>The words were said half under the boy&rsquo;s

-breath and the emotion in his tone was a

-complete and disagreeable surprise. Here

-was something that must be nipped in the

-bud, instantly and courageously. Robinette

-dropped Carnaby&rsquo;s arm and said: &ldquo;We&rsquo;ll

-talk that over at once, Middy dear, but first

-you shall race me to the top of the twisting

-path, down past the tulip beds, to the seat

-under the big ash tree.&ndash;&ndash;Come on!&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_120' name='page_120'></a>120</span></div>

-<p>The two reached the tree in a moment,

-Carnaby sufficiently in advance to preserve

-his self-respect and with a colour heightened

-by something other than the exercise of running.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Sit down, first cousin once removed!&rdquo;

-said Robinette. &ldquo;Do you know the story of

-Sydney Smith, who wrote apologizing to somebody

-for not being able to come to dinner?

-&lsquo;The house is full of cousins,&rsquo; he said;

-&lsquo;would they were &ldquo;once removed&rdquo;!&rsquo;&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s no good telling me literary anecdotes!&ndash;&ndash;You&rsquo;re

-not treating me fairly,&rdquo; said

-Carnaby sulkily.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m treating you exactly as you should

-be treated, Infant-in-Arms,&rdquo; Robinette answered

-firmly. &ldquo;Give me your two paws, and

-look me straight in the eye.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Carnaby was no coward. His steel-grey

-eyes blazed as he met his cousin&rsquo;s look.

-&ldquo;Carnaby dear, do you know what you are

-to me? You are my kinsman; my only male

-relation. I&rsquo;m so fond of you already, don&rsquo;t

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_121' name='page_121'></a>121</span>

-spoil it! Think what you can be to me if

-you will. I am all alone in the world and

-when you grow a little older how I should

-like to depend upon you! I need affection;

-so do you, dear boy; can&rsquo;t I see how you are

-just starving for it? There is no reason in

-the world why we shouldn&rsquo;t be fond of each

-other! Oh! how grateful I should be to

-think of a strong young middy growing up

-to advise me and take me about! It was

-that kind of care and thought of me that was

-in your mind just now!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;You&rsquo;ll be marrying somebody one of

-these days,&rdquo; blurted Carnaby, wholly moved,

-but only half convinced. &ldquo;Then you&rsquo;ll forget

-all about your &lsquo;kinsman.&rsquo;&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I have no intention in that direction,&rdquo;

-said Robinette, &ldquo;but if I change my mind

-I&rsquo;ll consult you first; how will that do?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It wouldn&rsquo;t do any good,&rdquo; sighed the

-boy, &ldquo;so I&rsquo;d rather you wouldn&rsquo;t! You&rsquo;d

-have your own way spite of everything a

-fellow could say against it!&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_122' name='page_122'></a>122</span></div>

-<p>There was a moment of embarrassment;

-then the silence was promptly broken by

-Robinette.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Well, Middy dear, are we the best of

-friends?&rdquo; she asked, rising from the bench

-and putting out her hand.</p>

-<p>The lad took it and said all in a glow of

-chivalry, &ldquo;You&rsquo;re the dearest, the best,

-and the prettiest cousin in the world! You

-don&rsquo;t mind my thinking you&rsquo;re the prettiest?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Mind it? I delight in it! I shall come

-to your ship and pour out tea for you in my

-most fetching frock. Your friends will say:

-&lsquo;Who is that particularly agreeable lady, Carnaby?&rsquo;

-And you, with swelling chest, will

-respond, &lsquo;That&rsquo;s my American cousin, Mrs.

-Loring. She&rsquo;s a nice creature; I&rsquo;m glad you

-like her!&rsquo;&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Robinette&rsquo;s imitation of Carnaby&rsquo;s possible

-pomposity was so amusing and so clever that

-it drew a laugh from the boy in spite of himself.</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_123' name='page_123'></a>123</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;Just let anyone try to call you a &lsquo;creature&rsquo;!&rdquo;

-he exclaimed. &ldquo;He&rsquo;d have me to

-reckon with! Oh! I am so tired of being a

-boy! The inside of me is all grown up and

-everybody keeps on looking at the outside

-and thinking I&rsquo;m just the same as I always

-was!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Dear old Middy, you&rsquo;re quite old enough

-to be my protector and that is what you shall

-be! Now shall we go in? I want you to stand

-near by while I ask your grandmother a favor.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;She won&rsquo;t do it if she can help it,&rdquo; was

-Carnaby&rsquo;s succinct reply.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Oh, I am not sure! Where shall we find

-her,&ndash;&ndash;in the library?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Yes; come along! Get up your circulation;

-you&rsquo;ll need it!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Aunt de Tracy, there is something at

-Stoke Revel I am very anxious to have if you

-will give it to me,&rdquo; said Robinette, as she came

-into the library a few minutes later.</p>

-<p>Mrs. de Tracy looked up from her knitting

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_124' name='page_124'></a>124</span>

-solemnly. &ldquo;If it belongs to me, I shall

-no doubt be willing, as I know you would

-not ask for anything out of the common; but

-I own little here; nearly all is Carnaby&rsquo;s.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;This was my mother&rsquo;s,&rdquo; said Robinette.

-&ldquo;It is a picture hanging in the smoking

-room; one that was a great favorite of

-hers, called &lsquo;Robinetta.&rsquo; Her drawing-master

-found an Italian artist in London who went

-to the National Gallery and made a copy of

-the Sir Joshua picture, and I was named

-after it.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I wish your mother could have been a

-little less romantic,&rdquo; sighed Mrs. de Tracy.

-&ldquo;There were such fine old family names she

-might have used: Marcia and Elspeth, and

-Rosamond and Winifred!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I am sorry, Aunt de Tracy. If I had

-been consulted I believe I should have agreed

-with you. Perhaps when my mother was in

-America the family ties were not drawn as

-tightly as in the former years?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;If it was so, it was only natural,&rdquo; said the

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_125' name='page_125'></a>125</span>

-old lady. &ldquo;However, if you ask Carnaby, and

-if the picture has no great value, I am sure

-he will wish you to have it, especially if you

-know it to have been your mother&rsquo;s property.&rdquo;

-Here Carnaby sauntered into the

-room. &ldquo;That&rsquo;s all right, grandmother,&rdquo; he

-said, &ldquo;I heard what you were saying; only

-I wish it was a real Sir Joshua we were giving

-Cousin Robin instead of a copy!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Thank you, Carnaby dear, and thank you,

-too, Aunt de Tracy. You can&rsquo;t think how

-much it is to me to have this; it is a precious

-link between mother&rsquo;s girlhood, and mother,

-and me.&rdquo; So saying, she dropped a timid kiss

-upon Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s iron-grey hair, and

-left the room.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;If she could live in England long enough

-to get over that excessive freedom of manner,

-your cousin would be quite a pleasing person,

-but I am afraid it goes too deep to be cured,&rdquo;

-Mrs. de Tracy remarked as she smoothed the

-hairs that might have been ruffled by Robinette&rsquo;s

-kiss.</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_126' name='page_126'></a>126</span></div>

-<p>Carnaby made no reply. He was looking

-out into the garden and feeling half a boy,

-half a man, but wholly, though not very contentedly,

-a kinsman.</p>

-<hr class='toprule' />

-<div class='chsp'>

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_127' name='page_127'></a>127</span>

-<a name='XI_THE_SANDS_AT_WESTON' id='XI_THE_SANDS_AT_WESTON'></a>

-<h2>XI</h2>

-<h3>THE SANDS AT WESTON</h3>

-</div>

-<p>&ldquo;Thursday morning? Is it possible that

-this is Thursday morning? And I must

-run up to London on Saturday,&rdquo; said Lavendar

-to himself as he finished dressing by

-the open window. He looked up the day

-of the week in his calendar first, in order to

-make quite sure of the fact. Yes, there was

-no doubt at all that it was Thursday. His

-sense of time must have suffered some strange

-confusion; in one way it seemed only an hour

-ago that he had arrived from the clangour

-and darkness of London to the silence of

-the country, the cuckoos calling across the

-river between the wooded hills, and the April

-sunshine on the orchard trees; in another,

-years might have passed since the moment

-when he first saw Robinette Loring sitting

-under Mrs. Prettyman&rsquo;s plum tree.</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_128' name='page_128'></a>128</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;Eight days have we spent together in

-this house, and yet since that time when we

-first crossed in the boat, I&rsquo;ve never been

-more than half an hour alone with her,&rdquo;

-he thought. &ldquo;There are only three other

-people in the house after all, but they seem

-to have the power of multiplying themselves

-like the loaves and fishes (only when they&rsquo;re

-not wanted) so that we&rsquo;re eternally in a

-crowd. That boy particularly! I like Carnaby,

-if he could get it into his thick head

-that his presence isn&rsquo;t always necessary; it

-must bother Mrs. Loring too; he&rsquo;s quite off

-his head about her if she only knew it.

-However, it&rsquo;s my last day very likely, and

-if I have to outwit Machiavelli I&rsquo;ll manage

-it somehow! Surely one lame old woman,

-and a torpid machine for knitting and writing

-notes like Miss Smeardon, can&rsquo;t want to be

-out of doors all day. Hang that boy, though!

-He&rsquo;ll come anywhere.&rdquo; Here he stopped and

-sat down suddenly at the dressing-table,

-covering his face with his hands in comic

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_129' name='page_129'></a>129</span>

-despair. &ldquo;Mrs. Loring can&rsquo;t like it! She must

-be doing it on purpose, avoiding being alone

-with me because she sees I admire her,&rdquo; he

-sighed. &ldquo;After all why should I ever suppose

-that I interest her as much as she does me?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>No one could have told from Lavendar&rsquo;s

-face, when he appeared fresh and smiling at

-the breakfast table half an hour later, that he

-was hatching any deep-laid schemes.</p>

-<p>Robinette entered the dining room five

-minutes late, as usual, pretty as a pink, breathless

-with hurrying. She wore a white dress

-again, with one rose stuck at her waistband,

-&ldquo;A little tribute from the gardener,&rdquo;

-she said, as she noticed Lavendar glance at

-it. She went rapidly around the table shaking

-hands, and gave Carnaby&rsquo;s red cheeks a pinch

-in passing that made Lavendar long to tweak

-the boy&rsquo;s ear.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Good morning, all!&rdquo; she said cheerily,

-&ldquo;and how is my first cousin once removed?

-Is he going to Weston with me this morning

-to buy hairpins?&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_130' name='page_130'></a>130</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;He is!&rdquo; Carnaby answered joyfully, between

-mouthfuls of bacon and eggs. &ldquo;He

-has been out of hairpins for a week.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Does he need tapes and buttons also?&rdquo;

-asked Robinette, taking the piece of muffin

-from his hand and buttering it for herself;

-an act highly disapproved of by Mrs. de Tracy,

-who hurriedly requested Bates to pass the

-bread.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;He needs everything you need,&rdquo; Carnaby

-said with heightened colour.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;My hair is giving me a good deal of trouble,

-lately,&rdquo; remarked Lavendar, passing his

-hand over a thickly thatched head.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I have an excellent American tonic that

-I will give you after breakfast,&rdquo; said Robinette

-roguishly. &ldquo;You need to apply it with a

-brush at ten, eleven, and twelve o&rsquo;clock, sitting

-in the sun continuously between those

-hours so that the scalp may be well invigorated.

-Carnaby, will you buy me butter scotch

-and lemonade and oranges in Weston?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I will, if Grandmother&rsquo;ll increase my allowance,&rdquo;

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_131' name='page_131'></a>131</span>

-said Carnaby malevolently, &ldquo;for I

-need every penny I&rsquo;ve got in hand for the

-hairpins.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I hope you are not hungry, Robinetta,&rdquo;

-said Mrs. de Tracy, &ldquo;that you have to buy

-food in Weston.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;No, indeed,&rdquo; said Robinette, &ldquo;I was only

-longing to test Carnaby&rsquo;s generosity and educate

-him in buying trifles for pretty ladies.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;He can probably be relied on to educate

-himself in that line when the time comes,&rdquo;

-Mrs. de Tracy remarked; &ldquo;and now if you

-have all finished talking about hair, I will

-take up my breakfast again.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Oh, Aunt de Tracy, I am so sorry if it

-wasn&rsquo;t a nice subject, but I never thought.

-Anyway I only talked about hairpins; it was

-Mr. Lavendar who introduced hair into the

-conversation; wasn&rsquo;t it, Middy dear?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Lavendar thought he could have annihilated

-them both for their open comradeship,

-their obvious delight in each other&rsquo;s society.

-Was he to be put on the shelf like a dry old

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_132' name='page_132'></a>132</span>

-bachelor? Not he! He would circumvent them

-in some way or another, although the r&ocirc;le of

-gooseberry was new to him.</p>

-<p>The two young people set off in high

-spirits, and Mrs. de Tracy and Miss Smeardon

-watched them as they walked down the avenue

-on their way to the station, their clasped

-hands swinging in a merry rhythm as they

-hummed a bit of the last popular song.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I hope Robinetta will not Americanize

-Carnaby,&rdquo; said Mrs. de Tracy. &ldquo;He seems so

-foolishly elated, so feverishly gay all at once.

-Her manner is too informal; Carnaby requires

-constant repression.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Perhaps his temperature has not returned

-to normal since his attack of quinsy,&rdquo; Miss

-Smeardon observed, reassuringly.</p>

-<p>Meanwhile Lavendar sat in Admiral de

-Tracy&rsquo;s old smoking room for half an hour

-writing letters. Every time that he glanced

-up from his work, and he did so pretty

-often, his eyes fell on a picture that hung

-upon the opposite wall. It was the copy of

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_133' name='page_133'></a>133</span>

-Sir Joshua&rsquo;s &ldquo;Robinetta&rdquo; made long ago

-and just presented to its namesake.</p>

-<p>In the portrait the girl&rsquo;s hair was a still

-brighter gold; yet certainly there was a

-likeness somewhere about it, he thought;

-partly in the expression, partly in the broad

-low forehead, and the eyes that looked as if

-they were seeing fairies.</p>

-<p>Of course to his mind Mrs. Loring was a

-hundred times more lovely than Sir Joshua&rsquo;s

-famous girl with a robin. He felt very ill-used

-because Robinette and Carnaby had

-deliberately gone for an excursion without

-him and had left him toiling over business papers

-when they had gone off to enjoy themselves.</p>

-<p>How bright it was out there in the sunshine,

-to be sure! And why should it be

-Carnaby, not he, who was by this time walking

-along the sea front of Weston, and watching

-the breeze flutter Robinette&rsquo;s scarf and bring

-a brighter colour to her lips?</p>

-<p>There! the last words were written, and

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_134' name='page_134'></a>134</span>

-taking up his bunch of letters, watch in

-hand, he sought Mrs. de Tracy, and explained

-that he would bicycle to Weston and

-catch the London post himself.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll send William&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;she began; but

-Lavendar hastily assured her that he should

-enjoy the ride, and hurried off in triumph.

-Miss Smeardon smiled an acid smile as she

-watched him go. &ldquo;He has forgotten all

-about poor Miss Meredith, I suppose,&rdquo; she

-murmured. &ldquo;Yet it was not so long ago that

-they were supposed to be all in all to each

-other!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It was a foolish engagement, Miss Smeardon,&rdquo;

-said Mrs. de Tracy in a cold voice. &ldquo;I

-never thought the girl was suited to Mark,

-and I understand that old Mr. Lavendar was

-relieved when the whole thing came to an

-end.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Quite so; certainly; no doubt Miss Meredith

-would never have made him happy,&rdquo;

-said Miss Smeardon at once, &ldquo;though it is

-always more agreeable when the lady discovers

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_135' name='page_135'></a>135</span>

-the fact first. In this case she confessed

-openly that Mr. Lavendar broke her

-heart with his indifference.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;She was an ill-bred young woman,&rdquo; said

-Mrs. de Tracy, as if the subject were now

-closed. &ldquo;However, I hope that the son of my

-family solicitor would think it only proper

-to pay a certain amount of attention to the

-Admiral&rsquo;s niece, were she ever so obnoxious

-to him.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Miss Smeardon made no audible reply,

-but her thoughts were to the effect that

-never was an obnoxious duty performed by

-any man with a better grace.</p>

-<p>The sea front at Weston was the most

-prosaic scene in the world, a long esplanade

-with an asphalt path running its full

-length, and ugly jerrybuilt houses glaring

-out upon it, a gimcrack pier with a gingerbread

-sort of band-stand and glass house

-at the end;&ndash;&ndash;all that could have been done

-to ruin nature had been determinedly done

-there. But you cannot ruin a spring day,

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_136' name='page_136'></a>136</span>

-nor youth, nor the colour of the sea. Along

-the level shore, the placid waves swept and

-broke, and then gathered up their white

-skirts, and retreated to return with the same

-musical laugh. Children and dogs played

-about on the wet sands. The wind blew

-freshly and the sea stretched all one pure

-blue, till it met on the horizon with the bluer

-skies.</p>

-<p>Weston seemed to Lavendar a very fresh

-and delightful spot at that moment, although

-had he been in a different mood its

-sordidness only would have struck him. Yes,

-there they were in the distance; he knew

-Robinette&rsquo;s white dress and the figure of the

-boy beside her. Hang that boy! Were they

-really going to buy hairpins? If so, then a

-hair-dresser&rsquo;s he must find. Lavendar turned

-up the little street that led from the sea-front,

-scanning all the signs&ndash;&ndash;Boots&ndash;&ndash;Dairies&ndash;&ndash;Vegetable

-shops&ndash;&ndash;Heavens! were there nothing

-but vegetable and boot shops in Weston?

-Boots again. At last a Hairdresser;

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_137' name='page_137'></a>137</span>

-Lavendar stood in the doorway until he made

-sure that Robinette and the middy had turned

-in that direction, and then he boldly entered

-the shop.</p>

-<p>To his horror he found himself confronted

-by a smiling young woman, whose own very

-marvellous erection of hair made him think

-she must be used as an advertisement for the

-goods she supplied.</p>

-<p>In another moment Robinette and the boy

-would be upon him, and he must be found

-deep in fictitious business. He cast one agonized

-glance at the mysteries of the toilet

-that surrounded him on every side, then

-clearing his throat, he said modestly but

-firmly, that he wanted to buy a pair of curling

-tongs for a lady.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;These are the thing if you wish a Marcel

-wave,&rdquo; was the reply, &ldquo;but just for an ordinary

-crimp we sell a good many of the plain

-ones.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Yes, thank you. They will do; the lady&ndash;&ndash;my

-sister, also wished&ndash;&ndash;&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_138' name='page_138'></a>138</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;A little &lsquo;addition,&rsquo; was it, sir?&rdquo; she

-moved smilingly to a drawer. &ldquo;A few pin

-curls are very easily adjusted, or would our

-guinea switch&ndash;&ndash;&rdquo;</p>

-<p>At this moment the boy and Robinette

-entered the shop. Lavendar was paying for

-the curling tongs, and not a muscle of his

-face relaxed. &ldquo;Oh, here you are. I have

-just finished my business,&rdquo; he said, turning

-round, &ldquo;I thought we might encounter one

-another somewhere!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Robinette and Carnaby exchanged knowing

-glances of which Lavendar was perfectly

-conscious, but he stood by while Mrs. Loring

-bought her hairpins, and Carnaby endeavoured

-to persuade her to invest in a few &ldquo;pin

-curls.&rdquo; &ldquo;Not an hour before it is absolutely

-necessary, Middy dear,&rdquo; she said; &ldquo;then I

-shall bear it as bravely as I can. Come

-now, carry the hairpins for me, and let

-me take Mr. Lavendar out of this shop, or

-he will be tempted to buy more than he

-needs.&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_139' name='page_139'></a>139</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;Oh, no!&rdquo; Lavendar remarked pointedly.

-&ldquo;I have what I came for!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t forget your parcel,&rdquo; Carnaby exclaimed,

-darting after Lavendar as they

-went into the street. &ldquo;You&rsquo;ve left it on

-the counter.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;How careless!&rdquo; said Mark. &ldquo;It was for

-my sister.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;You never told me you had a sister,&rdquo; said

-Robinette, as they walked together, Lavendar

-wheeling his bicycle and Carnaby sulking

-behind them.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I am blessed with two; one married now;

-the other, my sister Amy, lives at home.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Well, you see, in spite of all our questions

-the first time we met, we really know

-very little about each other,&rdquo; she went on

-lightly. &ldquo;It takes such a long time to get

-thoroughly acquainted in this country. Do

-they ever count you a friend if you do not

-know all their aunts and second cousins?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Lavendar laughed. &ldquo;Willingly would I

-introduce you to my aunts and my uttermost

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_140' name='page_140'></a>140</span>

-cousins, and lay the map of my life before

-you, uneventful as it has been, if that would

-further our acquaintance.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Even as he spoke a hateful memory darted

-into his thoughts, and he reddened to his

-temples, until Mrs. Loring wondered if she

-had said anything to annoy him.</p>

-<p>Some fortunate accident at this point ordered

-that Carnaby should meet a friend,

-another middy about his own age, and they set

-off together in quest of a third boy who was

-supposed to be in the near neighbourhood.</p>

-<p>As soon as the lads were out of sight

-Lavendar found the jests they had been

-bandying together die on his lips. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m going

-down deeper; I shall be out of my depth

-very soon,&rdquo; he thought to himself, as he

-walked in silence by Robinette&rsquo;s side.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Let us come down to the beach again;

-we can&rsquo;t go to the station for half an hour

-yet,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I like to look out to sea, and

-realize that if I sailed long enough I could

-step off that pier, and arrive in America.&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_141' name='page_141'></a>141</span></div>

-<p>They stood by the sea-wall together with

-the fresh wind playing on their faces. &ldquo;Isn&rsquo;t

-it curious,&rdquo; said Robinette, &ldquo;how instinctively

-one always turns to look at the sea;

-inland may be ever so lovely, but if the sea

-is there we generally look in that direction.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Because it is unbounded, like the future,&rdquo;

-said Lavendar. He was looking as he

-spoke at some children playing on the sands

-just beside them. There was a gallant little

-boy among them with a bare curly head, who

-refused help from older sisters and was toiling

-away at his sand castle, his whole soul in his

-work; throwing up spadefuls&ndash;&ndash;tremendous

-ones for four years old&ndash;&ndash;upon its ramparts,

-as if certain they could resist the advancing

-tide.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;What a noble little fellow!&rdquo; exclaimed

-Robinette, catching the direction of Lavendar&rsquo;s

-glance. &ldquo;Isn&rsquo;t he splendid? toiling like

-that; stumping about on those fat brown

-legs!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;How beautiful to have a child like that, of

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_142' name='page_142'></a>142</span>

-one&rsquo;s own!&rdquo; thought Lavendar as he looked.

-On the sands around them, there were numbers

-of such children playing there in the sun.

-It seemed a happy world to him at the moment.</p>

-<p>Suddenly he saw his companion turn

-quickly aside; a nurse in uniform came towards

-them pushing, not a happy crooning

-baby this time, but a little emaciated wisp of

-a child lying back wearily in a wheel chair.

-Something in Robinette&rsquo;s face, or perhaps

-the bit of fluttering lace she wore upon her

-white dress, had attracted its notice, and it

-stretched out two tiny skeleton hands towards

-her as it passed. With a quick gesture,

-brushing tears away that in a moment had

-rushed to her eyes, young Mrs. Loring stepped

-forward, and put her fingers into the wasted

-hands that were held out to her. She hung

-above the child for a moment, a radiant

-figure, her face shining with sympathy and

-a sort of heavenly kindness; her eyes the

-sweeter for their tears.</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_143' name='page_143'></a>143</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;What is it, darling?&rdquo; she asked. &ldquo;Oh,

-it&rsquo;s the bright rose!&rdquo; Then she hurriedly

-unfastened the flower from her waist-belt

-and turned to Lavendar. &ldquo;Will you please

-take your penknife and scrape away all the

-little thorns,&rdquo; she asked.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;The rose looked very charming where it

-was,&rdquo; he remarked, half regretfully, as he did

-what she commanded.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It will look better still, presently,&rdquo; she

-answered.</p>

-<p>The child&rsquo;s hands were outstretched longingly

-to grasp the flower, its eyes, unnaturally

-deep and wise with pain, were fixed upon

-Robinette&rsquo;s face. She bent over the chair,

-and her voice was like a dove&rsquo;s voice, Lavendar

-thought, as she spoke. Then the little melancholy

-carriage was wheeled away. Motherhood

-always seemed the most sacred, the supreme

-experience to Robinette; a thing high

-and beautiful like the topmost blooms of

-Nurse Prettyman&rsquo;s plum tree. &ldquo;If one had

-to choose between that sturdy boy and this

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_144' name='page_144'></a>144</span>

-wistful wraith, it would be hard,&rdquo; she thought.

-&ldquo;All my pride would run out to the boy, but

-I could die for love and pity if this suffering

-baby were mine!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Lavendar had turned, and leaned on the

-wall with averted face. &ldquo;Sweet woman!&rdquo; he

-was saying to himself. &ldquo;It is more than a

-merry heart that is able to give such sympathy;

-it&rsquo;s a sad old world after all where

-such things can be; but a woman like that

-can bring good out of evil.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Robinette had seated herself on a low wall

-beside him. Her little embroidered futility of

-a handkerchief was in her hand once more.

-&ldquo;A rose and a smile! that&rsquo;s all we could give

-it,&rdquo; she said; &ldquo;and we would either of us share

-some of that burden if we only could.&rdquo; She

-watched the merry, healthy children playing

-beside them, and added, &ldquo;After all let us

-comfort ourselves that brown cheeks and fat

-legs are in the majority. Rightness somehow

-or other must be at the root of things, or we

-shouldn&rsquo;t be a living world at all.&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_145' name='page_145'></a>145</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;Amen,&rdquo; said Lavendar, &ldquo;but the sight of

-suffering innocents like that, sometimes makes

-me wish I were dead.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Dead!&rdquo; she echoed. &ldquo;Why, it makes me

-wish for a hundred lives, a hundred hearts

-and hands to feel with and help with.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Ah, some women are made that way.

-My stepmother, the only mother I&rsquo;ve known,

-was like that,&rdquo; Lavendar went on, dropping

-suddenly again into personal talk, as they

-had done before. He and she, it seemed,

-could not keep barriers between them very

-long; every hour they spent together brought

-them more strangely into knowledge of each

-other&rsquo;s past.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;She was a fine woman,&rdquo; he went on,

-&ldquo;with a certain comfortable breadth about

-her, of mind and body; and those large,

-warm, capable hands that seem so fitted

-to lift burdens.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Lavendar was in an absent-minded mood,

-and never much given to noting details at

-any time. He bent over on the low wall in

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_146' name='page_146'></a>146</span>

-retrospective silence, looking at the blue sea

-before them.</p>

-<p>Robinette, who was perched beside him,

-spread her two small hands on her white serge

-knees and regarded them fixedly for a moment.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I wonder if it&rsquo;s a matter of size,&rdquo; she

-said after a moment. &ldquo;I wonder! Let&rsquo;s be

-confidential. When I was a little girl we

-were not at all well-to-do, and my hands

-were very busy. My father&rsquo;s success came

-to him only two or three years before his

-death, when his reputation began to grow

-and his plans for great public buildings

-began to be accepted, so I was my mother&rsquo;s

-helper. We had but one servant, and I

-learned to make beds, to dust, to wipe

-dishes, to make tea and coffee, and to cook

-simple dishes. If Admiral de Tracy&rsquo;s sister

-had to work, Admiral de Tracy&rsquo;s niece was

-certainly going to help! Later on came my

-father&rsquo;s illness and death. We had plenty of

-servants then, but my hands had learned to

-be busy. I gave him his medicines, I changed

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_147' name='page_147'></a>147</span>

-his pillows, I opened his letters and answered

-such of them as were within my powers, I

-fanned him, I stroked his aching head. The

-end came, and mother and I had hardly begun

-to take hold of life again when her health

-failed. I wasn&rsquo;t enough for her; she needed

-father and her face was bent towards him.

-My hands were busy again for months, and

-they held my mother&rsquo;s when she died. Time

-went on. Then I began again to make a home

-out of a house; to use my strength and time

-as a good wife should, for the comfort of

-her husband; but oh! so faultily, for I was

-all too young and inexperienced. It was only

-for a few months, then death came into my

-life for the third time, and I was less than

-twenty. For the first time since I can remember,

-my hands are idle, but it will not be for

-long. I want them to be busy always. I want

-them to be full! I want them to be tired!

-I want them ready to do the tasks my head

-and heart suggest.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Lavendar had a strong desire to take those

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_148' name='page_148'></a>148</span>

-same hands in his and kiss them, but instead

-he rose and spread out his own long brown

-fingers on the edge of the wall, a man&rsquo;s

-hands, fine and supple, but meant to work.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I seem to have done nothing,&rdquo; he exclaimed.

-&ldquo;You look so young, so irresponsible,

-so like a bird on a bough, that I cannot

-associate dull care with you, yet you have

-lived more deeply than I. Life seems to have

-touched me on the shoulder and passed me

-by; these hands of mine have never done a

-real day&rsquo;s work, Mrs. Loring, for they&rsquo;ve

-been the servants of an unwilling brain. I

-hated my own work as a younger man, and,

-though I hope I did not shirk it, I certainly

-did nothing that I could avoid.&rdquo; He paused,

-and went on slowly, &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve thought sometimes,

-of late I mean, that if life is to be worth much,

-if it is to be real life, and not mere existence,

-one must put one&rsquo;s whole heart into it, and

-that two people&ndash;&ndash;&rdquo; He stopped; he was

-silent with embarrassment, conscious of having

-said too much.</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_149' name='page_149'></a>149</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;Can help each other. Indeed they can,&rdquo;

-Mrs. Loring went on serenely, &ldquo;if they have

-the same ideals. Hardly anyone, fortunately,

-is so alone as I, and so I have to help myself!

-Your sisters, now; don&rsquo;t they help?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Not a great deal,&rdquo; Lavendar confessed.

-&ldquo;One would, but she&rsquo;s married and in India,

-worse luck! The other is&ndash;&ndash;well, she&rsquo;s a

-candid sister.&rdquo; He laughed, and looked up.

-&ldquo;If my best friend could hear my sister

-Amy&rsquo;s view of me, just have a little sketch

-of me by Amy without fear or favour, he,

-or she, would never have a very high opinion

-of me again, and I am not sure but that I

-should agree with her.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Nonsense! my dear friend,&rdquo; exclaimed

-Robinette in a maternal tone she sometimes

-affected,&ndash;&ndash;a tone fairly agonizing to Mark

-Lavendar; &ldquo;we should never belittle the

-stuff that&rsquo;s been put into us! My equipment

-isn&rsquo;t particularly large, but I am going to

-squeeze every ounce of power from it before

-I die.&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_150' name='page_150'></a>150</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;Life is extraordinarily interesting to you,

-isn&rsquo;t it?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Interesting? It is thrilling! So will it

-be to you when you make up your mind to

-squeeze it,&rdquo; said Robinette, jumping off the

-wall. &ldquo;There is Carnaby signalling; it is

-time we went to the station.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Life would thrill me considerably more

-if Carnaby were not eternally in evidence,&rdquo;

-said Lavendar, but Robinette pretended not

-to hear.</p>

-<hr class='toprule' />

-<div class='chsp'>

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_151' name='page_151'></a>151</span>

-<a name='XII_LOVE_IN_THE_MUD' id='XII_LOVE_IN_THE_MUD'></a>

-<h2>XII</h2>

-<h3>LOVE IN THE MUD</h3>

-</div>

-<p>The next day Robinette was once more

-sitting in the boat opposite to Lavendar as he

-rowed. They were going down the river this

-time, not across it. Somehow they had managed

-that afternoon to get out by themselves,

-which sounds very simple, but is a wonderfully

-difficult thing to accomplish when there

-is no special reason for it, and when there

-are several other people in the house.</p>

-<p>Fortunately Mrs. de Tracy did not like to

-be alone, so that wherever she went Miss

-Smeardon had to go too, and there happened

-to be a sale of work at a neighbouring vicarage

-that afternoon where she considered

-her presence a necessity. Robinette had vanished

-soon after luncheon and the middy had

-been dull, so after loitering around for a

-while, he too had disappeared upon some errand

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_152' name='page_152'></a>152</span>

-of his own. Lavendar walked very slowly

-toward the avenue gateway, then he turned

-and came back. He could scarcely believe his

-good fortune when he saw Mrs. Loring come

-out of the house, and pause at the door as if

-uncertain of her next movements. She looked

-uncommonly lovely in a white frock with

-touches of blue, while the ribbon in her hair

-brought out all its gold. She wore a flowery

-garden hat, and a pair of dainty most un-English

-shoes peeped from beneath her short skirt.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Are you going out, or can I take you

-on the river?&rdquo; Lavendar asked, trying without

-much success to conceal the eagerness that

-showed in his voice and eyes.</p>

-<p>Robinette stood for a moment looking at

-him (it seemed as if she read him like a book)

-and then she said frankly, &ldquo;Why yes, there is

-nothing I should like so much, but where is

-Carnaby?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Hang Carnaby! I mean I don&rsquo;t know,

-or care. I&rsquo;ve had too much of his society

-to-day to be pining for it now.&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_153' name='page_153'></a>153</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;Well, he does chatter like a magpie, but

-I feel he must have such a dull time here

-with no one anywhere near his own age.

-Elderly as I am, I seem a bit nearer than

-Aunt de Tracy or Miss Smeardon. Aunt de

-Tracy, all the same, will never understand

-my relations with that boy, or with anyone

-else for that matter. I did try so hard,&rdquo;

-she went on, &ldquo;when I first arrived, just

-to strike the right note with her, and I&rsquo;ve

-missed it all the time, by that very fact,

-no doubt. I&rsquo;m so unused to trying&ndash;&ndash;at

-home.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;You mean in America?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Yes, of course; I don&rsquo;t try there at all,

-and yet my friends seem to understand me.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Does it seem to you that you could ever

-call England &lsquo;home&rsquo;?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I could not have believed that England

-would so sink into my heart,&rdquo; she said,

-sitting down in the doorway and arranging

-the flowers on her hat. &ldquo;During those first

-dull wet days when I was still a stranger,

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_154' name='page_154'></a>154</span>

-and when I looked out all the time at the

-dripping cedars, and felt whenever I opened

-my lips that I said the wrong thing, it

-seemed to me I should never be gay for an

-hour in this country; but the last enchanting

-sunny days have changed all that. I

-remember it&rsquo;s my mother&rsquo;s country, and if

-only I could have found a little affection

-waiting for me, all would have been perfect.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;You may find it yet.&rdquo; Lavendar could

-not for the life of him help saying the words,

-but there was nothing in the tone in which

-he said them to make Robinette conscious of

-his meaning.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m afraid not,&rdquo; she sighed, thinking of

-Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s indifference. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m much

-more American than English, much more my

-father&rsquo;s daughter than the Admiral&rsquo;s niece;

-perhaps my aunt feels that instinctively.

-Now I must slip upstairs and change if we

-are going boating.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Never!&rdquo; cried Lavendar. &ldquo;If I don&rsquo;t

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_155' name='page_155'></a>155</span>

-snatch you this moment from the devouring

-crowd I shall lose you! I will keep you

-safe and dry, never fear, and we shall be

-back well before dark.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>They went down the river after leaving

-the little pier, passing the orchards heaped

-on the hillsides above Wittisham, and Lavendar

-wanted to row out to sea, but Robinette

-preferred the river; so he rowed nearer to

-the shore, where the current was less swift,

-and the boat rocked and drifted with scarcely

-a touch of the oars. They had talked for

-some time, and then a silence had fallen,

-which Robinette broke by saying, &ldquo;I half

-wish you&rsquo;d forsake the law and follow lines

-of lesser resistance, Mr. Lavendar. Do you

-know, you seem to me to be drifting, not

-rowing! I&rsquo;ve been thinking ever since of

-what you said to me on the sands at Weston.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Ungrateful woman!&rdquo; he exclaimed,

-trying to evade the subject, &ldquo;when these

-two faithful arms have been at your service

-every day since we first met! Think of the

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_156' name='page_156'></a>156</span>

-pennies you would have taken from that tiny

-gold purse of yours for the public ferry!

-However, I know what you mean; I never

-met anyone so plain-spoken as you, Mrs.

-Robin; I haven&rsquo;t forgotten, I assure you!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;How about the candid sister? Isn&rsquo;t she

-plain-spoken?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Oh, she attacks the outside of the cup

-and platter; you question motive power and

-ideals. Well, I confess I have less of the former

-than I ought, and more of the latter than

-I&rsquo;ve ever used.&rdquo; Lavendar had rested on his

-oars now and was looking down, so that the

-twinkle of his eyes was lost. &ldquo;I suppose I

-shall go on as I have done hitherto, doing

-my work in a sort of a way, and getting a

-certain amount of pleasure out of things,&ndash;&ndash;unless&ndash;&ndash;&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Oh, but that&rsquo;s not living!&rdquo; she exclaimed;

-&ldquo;that&rsquo;s only existing. Don&rsquo;t you

-remember:&ndash;&ndash;</p>

-<table summary=''><tr><td>

-<p class='cg'>It is not growing like a tree<br />

-In bulk doth make man better be.</p>

-</td></tr></table>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_157' name='page_157'></a>157</span></div>

-<p>It&rsquo;s really <i>living</i> I mean, forgetting the

-things that are behind, and going on and

-on to something ahead, whatever one&rsquo;s aim

-may be.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;What are you going to do with yourself,

-if I may ask?&rdquo; said Lavendar. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t be

-too philanthropic, will you? You&rsquo;re so delightfully

-symmetrical now!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I shall have plenty to do,&rdquo; cried Robinette

-ardently. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve told you before, I have

-so much motive power that I don&rsquo;t know how

-to use it.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;How about sharing a little of it with a

-friend!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Lavendar&rsquo;s voice was full of meaning, but

-Robinette refused to hear it. She had succumbed

-as quickly to his charm as he to hers,

-but while she still had command over her

-heart she did not intend parting with it unless

-she could give it wholly. She knew enough of

-her own nature to recognize that she longed

-for a rowing, not a drifting mate, and that

-nothing else would content her; but her instinct

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_158' name='page_158'></a>158</span>

-urged that Lavendar&rsquo;s indecisions and

-his uncertainties of aim were accidents rather

-than temperamental weaknesses. She suspected

-that his introspective moods and his

-occasional lack of spirits had a definite cause

-unknown to her.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I haven&rsquo;t a large income,&rdquo; she said, after

-a moment&rsquo;s silence, changing the subject

-arbitrarily, and thereby reducing her companion

-to a temporary state of silent rage.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Yet no one would expect a woman like

-this to fall like a ripe plum into a man&rsquo;s

-mouth,&rdquo; he thought presently; &ldquo;she will drop

-only when she has quite made up her mind,

-and the bough will need a good deal of shaking!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I haven&rsquo;t a large income,&rdquo; repeated Robinette,

-while Lavendar was silent, &ldquo;only five

-thousand dollars a year, which is of course microscopic

-from the American standpoint and

-cost of living; so I can&rsquo;t build free libraries

-and swimming baths and playgrounds, or do

-any big splendid things; but I can do dear

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_159' name='page_159'></a>159</span>

-little nice ones, left undone by city governments

-and by the millionaires. I can sing,

-and read, and study; I can travel; and there

-are always people needing something wherever

-you are, if you have eyes to see them;

-one needn&rsquo;t live a useless life even if one

-hasn&rsquo;t any responsibilities. But&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;she

-paused&ndash;&ndash;&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve been talking all this time

-about my own plans and ambitions, and I

-began by asking yours! Isn&rsquo;t it strange that

-the moment one feels conscious of friendship,

-one begins to want to know things?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;My sister Amy would tell you I had no

-ambitions, except to buy as many books as I

-wish, and not to have to work too hard,&rdquo; said

-Mark smiling, &ldquo;but I think that would not

-be quite true. I have some, of a dull inferior

-kind, not beautiful ones like yours.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Do tell me what they are.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>He shook his head. &ldquo;I couldn&rsquo;t; they&rsquo;re

-not for show; shabby things like unsuccessful

-poor relations, who would rather not have

-too much notice taken of them. In a few

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_160' name='page_160'></a>160</span>

-weeks I am going to drag them out of their

-retreat, brighten them up, inject some poetry

-into their veins, and then display them to your

-critical judgment.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>They were almost at a standstill now and

-neither of them was noticing it at all. As

-Mrs. Loring moved her seat the boat lurched

-somewhat to one side. Mark, to steady her,

-placed his hand over hers as it rested on the

-rail, and she did not withdraw it. Then he

-found the other hand that lay upon her knee,

-and took it in his own, scarcely knowing

-what he did. He looked into her face and

-found no anger there. &ldquo;I wish to tell you

-more about myself,&rdquo; he stammered, &ldquo;something

-not altogether creditable to me; but

-perhaps you will understand. Perhaps even

-if you don&rsquo;t understand you will forgive.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>She drew her hands gently away from his

-grasp. &ldquo;I shall try to understand, you may

-rely on that!&rdquo; she said.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m not going to trouble you with any

-very dreadful confessions,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;only

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_161' name='page_161'></a>161</span>

-it&rsquo;s better to hear things directly from the

-people concerned, and you are sure to hear

-a wrong version sooner or later.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;Then

-stopping suddenly he exclaimed, &ldquo;Hullo!

-we&rsquo;re stuck, I declare! look at that!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Robinette turned and saw that their boat

-was now scarcely surrounded with water at

-all. On every side, as if the flanks of some

-great whale were upheaving from below, there

-appeared stretches of glistening mud. Just

-in front of them, where there still was a channel

-of water, was an upstanding rock. &ldquo;Shall

-we row quickly there?&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;Then

-perhaps we can get out and pull the boat to

-the other side, where there is more water.

-What has happened?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Oh, something not unusual,&rdquo; said Lavendar

-grimly, &ldquo;that I&rsquo;m a fool, and the sea-tide

-has ebbed, as tides have been known

-to do before. I&rsquo;m afraid a man doesn&rsquo;t watch

-tides when he has a companion like you!

-Now we&rsquo;re left high, but not at all dry, as

-you see, till the tide turns.&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_162' name='page_162'></a>162</span></div>

-<p>By a swift stroke or two he managed to propel

-their craft as far as the rock. They scrambled

-up on it, and then he tried to haul the

-boat around the miniature islet; but the

-more he hauled, the quicker the water seemed

-to run away, and the deeper the wretched

-thing stuck in the mud. He jumped in again,

-and made an effort to push her off with an

-oar; meanwhile Robinette nearly fell off the

-rock in her efforts to get the head of the

-boat around towards the current again, and

-making a frantic plunge into the ooze, sank

-above her ankles in an instant. Lavendar

-caught hold of her and helped her to scramble

-back into the boat. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s all right; only

-my skirt wet, and one shoe gone!&rdquo; she

-panted. &ldquo;Now, what are we to do?&rdquo; She

-spread out her hands in dismay, and looked

-down at her draggled mud-stained skirt, her

-little feet, one shoeless and both covered

-with mud and slime. &ldquo;What an object I

-shall be to meet Aunt de Tracy&rsquo;s eye, when,

-if ever, it does light on me again! Meanwhile

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_163' name='page_163'></a>163</span>

-it seems as if we might be here for

-some hours. The boat is just settling herself

-into the mud bank, like a rather tired fat

-old woman into an armchair, and pray, Mr.

-Lavendar, what do you propose to do? as

-Talleyrand said to the lady who told him she

-couldn&rsquo;t bear it.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Lavendar looked about them; the main bed

-of the river was fifty yards away; between

-it and them was now only an expanse of mud.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s perfectly hopeless,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;the

-best thing we can do is to beget some philosophy.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Which at any moment we would exchange

-for a foot of water,&rdquo; she interpolated.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;We must just sit here and wait for the

-tide. Shall it be in the boat or on the rock?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t see much difference, do you? Except

-that the passing boats, if there are any,

-might think it was a matter of choice to sit on

-a damp rock for two hours, but no one could

-think we wanted to sit in a boat in the mud.&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_164' name='page_164'></a>164</span></div>

-<p>They landed on the rock for the second

-time. &ldquo;For my part it&rsquo;s no great punishment,&rdquo;

-said Lavendar, when they settled

-themselves, &ldquo;since the place is big enough

-for two and you&rsquo;re one of them!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Wouldn&rsquo;t this be as good a stool of repentance

-from which to confess your faults as

-any?&rdquo; asked Robinette, as she tucked her

-shoeless foot beneath her mud-stained skirt

-and made herself as comfortable as possible.

-&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll even offer a return of confidence upon

-my own weaknesses, if I can find them, but

-at present only miles of virtue stretch behind

-me. Ugh! How the mud smells; quite

-penitential! Now:&ndash;&ndash;</p>

-<table summary=''><tr><td>

-<p class='cg'>&ldquo;What have you sought you should have shunned,<br />

-And into what new follies run?&rdquo;</p>

-</td></tr></table>

-<p>&ldquo;Oh, what a bad rhyme!&rdquo; said Lavendar.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s Pythagoras, any way,&rdquo; she explained.</p>

-<p>Then suddenly changing his tone, Lavendar

-went on. &ldquo;This is not merely a jest,

-Mrs. Loring. Before you admit me really

-amongst the number of your friends I should

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_165' name='page_165'></a>165</span>

-like you to know that&ndash;&ndash;to put it plainly&ndash;&ndash;my

-own little world would tell you at the

-moment that I am a heartless jilt.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;That is a very ugly expression, Mr.

-Lavendar, and I shall choose not to believe

-it, until you give me your own version of

-the story.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;In one way I can give you no other;

-except that I was just fool enough to drift

-into an engagement with a woman whom I

-did not really love, and just not enough

-of a fool to make both of us miserable for

-life when I, all too late, found out my mistake.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>There passed before him at that moment

-other foolish blithe little loves, like faded

-flowers with the sweetness gone out of them.

-They had been so innocent, so fragile, so

-free from blame; all but the last; and this

-last it was that threatened to rise like a

-shadow perhaps, and defeat his winning the

-only woman he could ever love.</p>

-<p>Robinette stared at the stretches of ooze,

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_166' name='page_166'></a>166</span>

-and then stole a look at Mark Lavendar.

-&ldquo;The idea of calling that man a jilt,&rdquo; she

-thought. &ldquo;Look at his eyes; look at his

-mouth; listen to his voice; there is truth in

-them all. Oh for a sight of the girl he

-jilted! How much it would explain! No, not

-altogether, because the careless making of his

-engagement would have to be accounted for,

-as well as the breaking of it. Unless he did it

-merely to oblige her&ndash;&ndash;and men are such idiots

-sometimes,&ndash;&ndash;then he must have fancied he

-was in love with her. Perhaps he is continually

-troubled with those fancies. Nonsense!

-you believe in him, and you know you do.&rdquo;

-Then aloud she said, sympathetically, &ldquo;I&rsquo;m

-afraid we are apt to make these little experimental

-journeys in youth, when the heart is

-full of <i>wanderlust</i>. We start out on them

-so lightly, then they lead nowhere, and the

-walking back alone is wearisome and depressing.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;My return journey was depressing enough

-at first,&rdquo; said Lavendar, &ldquo;because the particular

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_167' name='page_167'></a>167</span>

-She was unkinder to me than I deserved

-even; but better counsels have prevailed

-and I shall soon be able to meet the

-reproachful gaze of stout matrons and sour

-spinsters more easily than I have for a year

-past; you see the two families were friends

-and each family had a large and interested

-connection!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;If the opinion of a comparative stranger

-is of any use to you,&rdquo; said Robinette, standing

-on the rock and scraping her stockinged

-foot free of mud, &ldquo;<i>I</i> believe in you, personally!

-You don&rsquo;t seem a bit &lsquo;jilty&rsquo; to me!

-I&rsquo;d let you marry my sister to-morrow and

-no questions asked!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I didn&rsquo;t know you had a sister,&rdquo; cried

-Lavendar.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I haven&rsquo;t; that&rsquo;s only a figure of

-speech; just a phrase to show my confidence.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;And isn&rsquo;t it ungrateful to be obliged

-to say I can&rsquo;t marry your sister, after you

-have given me permission to ask her!&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_168' name='page_168'></a>168</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;Not only ungrateful but unreasonable,&rdquo;

-said Robinette saucily, turning her head to

-look up the river and discovering from her

-point of vantage a moving object around the

-curve that led her to make hazardous remarks,

-knowing rescue was not far away.

-&ldquo;What have you against my sister, pray?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Very little!&rdquo; he said daringly, knowing

-well that she held him in her hand, and could

-make him dumb or let him speak at any

-moment she desired. &ldquo;Almost nothing! only

-that <i>she</i> is not offering me <i>her</i> sister as a

-balm to my woes.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;She <i>has</i> no sister; she is an only child!&ndash;&ndash;There!

-there!&rdquo; cried Robinette, &ldquo;the

-tide is coming up again, and the mud banks

-off in that direction are all covered with

-water! I see somebody in a boat, rowing towards

-us with superhuman energy. Oh! if I

-hadn&rsquo;t worn a white dress! It will <i>not</i> come

-smooth; and my lovely French hat is ruined

-by the dampness! My one shoe shows how

-inappropriately I was shod, and whoever is

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_169' name='page_169'></a>169</span>

-coming will say it is because I am an American.

-He will never know you wouldn&rsquo;t let

-me go upstairs and dress properly.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It doesn&rsquo;t matter anyway,&rdquo; rejoined

-Mark, &ldquo;because it is only Carnaby coming.

-You might know he would find us even if

-we were at the bottom of the river.&rdquo;</p>

-<hr class='toprule' />

-<div class='chsp'>

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_170' name='page_170'></a>170</span>

-<a name='XIII_CARNABY_TO_THE_RESCUE' id='XIII_CARNABY_TO_THE_RESCUE'></a>

-<h2>XIII</h2>

-<h3>CARNABY TO THE RESCUE</h3>

-</div>

-<p>At Stoke Revel, in the meantime, the solemn

-rites of dinner had been inaugurated as

-usual by the sounding of the gong at seven

-o&rsquo;clock. Mrs. de Tracy, Miss Smeardon, and

-Bates waited five minutes in silent resignation,

-then Carnaby came down and was scolded

-for being late, but there was no Robinette

-and no Lavendar.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Carnaby,&rdquo; said his grandmother, &ldquo;do

-you know where Mark intended going this

-afternoon?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;No, I don&rsquo;t,&rdquo; said Carnaby, sulkily.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Your cousin Robinetta,&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;with meaning,&ndash;&ndash;&ldquo;perhaps

-you know her whereabouts?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Not I!&rdquo; replied Carnaby with affected

-nonchalance. &ldquo;I was ferreting with Wilson.&rdquo;

-He had ferreted perhaps for fifteen

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_171' name='page_171'></a>171</span>

-minutes and then spent the rest of the afternoon

-in solitary discontent, but he would not

-have owned it for the world.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Call Bates,&rdquo; commanded Mrs. de Tracy.

-Bates entered. &ldquo;Do you know if Mr. Lavendar

-intended going any distance to-day?

-Did he leave any message?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Mr. Lavendar, ma&rsquo;am,&rdquo; said Bates, &ldquo;Mr.

-Lavendar and Mrs. Loring they went out in

-the boat after tea. Mr. Lavendar asked William

-for the key, and William he went down

-and got out the oars and rudder, ma&rsquo;am.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Does William know where they went?&rdquo;

-asked Mrs. de Tracy in high displeasure.

-&ldquo;Was it to Wittisham?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;No, ma&rsquo;am, William says they went down

-stream. He thinks perhaps they were going

-to the Flag Rock, and he says the gentleman

-wouldn&rsquo;t have a hard pull, as the tide was

-going out. But Mr. Lavendar knows the river

-well, ma&rsquo;am, as well as Mr. Carnaby here.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Then I conclude there is no immediate

-cause for anxiety,&rdquo; said Mrs. de Tracy with

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_172' name='page_172'></a>172</span>

-satire. &ldquo;You can serve dinner, Bates; there

-seems no reason why we should fast as yet!

-However, Carnaby,&rdquo; she continued, &ldquo;as the

-men cannot be spared at this hour, you had

-better go at once and see what has happened

-to our guests.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Right you are,&rdquo; cried Carnaby with the

-utmost alacrity. He was hungry, but the

-prospect of escape was better than food.

-He rushed away, and his boat was in mid-river

-before Mrs. de Tracy and Miss Smeardon

-had finished their tepid soup.</p>

-<p>A very slim young moon was just rising

-above the woods, but her tender light cast

-no shadows as yet, and there were no stars

-in the sky, for it was daylight still. The

-evening air was very fresh and cool; there

-was no wind, and the edges of the river

-were motionless and smooth, although in

-mid-stream the now in-coming tide clucked

-and swirled as it met the rush. Over at

-Wittisham one or two lights were beginning

-to twinkle, and there came drifting across the

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_173' name='page_173'></a>173</span>

-water a smell of wood smoke that suggested

-evening fires. Carnaby handled a boat well,

-for he had been born a sailor, as it were, and

-his long, powerful strokes took him along at

-a fine pace. But although he was going to

-look for Robinette and Mark, he was rather

-angry with both of them, and in no hurry.

-He rested on his oars indifferently and let the

-tide carry him up as it liked, while, with infinite

-zest, he unearthed a cigarette case from

-the recesses of his person, lit a cigarette, and

-smoked it coolly. Under Carnaby&rsquo;s apparent

-boyishness, there was a certain somewhat

-dangerous quality of precocity, which was

-stimulated rather than checked by his grandmother&rsquo;s

-repressive system. His smoking

-now was less the monkey-trick of a boy,

-than an act of slightly cynical defiance. He

-was no novice in the art, and smoked slowly

-and daintily, throwing back his head and

-blowing the smoke sometimes through his lips

-and sometimes through his nose. He looked

-for the moment older than his years, and

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_174' name='page_174'></a>174</span>

-a difficult young customer at that. His present

-sulky expression disappeared, however,

-under the influence of tobacco and adventure.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Where the dickens are they?&rdquo; he began

-to wonder, pulling harder.</p>

-<p>A bend in the river presently solved the

-mystery. On a wide stretch of mud-bank,

-which the tide had left bare in going out,

-but was now beginning to cover again, a

-solitary boat was stranded.</p>

-<p>With this clue to guide him, Carnaby&rsquo;s

-bright eyes soon discovered the two dim

-forms in the distance.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Ahoy!&rdquo; he shouted, and received a joyous

-answer. Robinette and Mark were the

-two derelicts, and their rescuer skimmed towards

-them with all his strength.</p>

-<p>He could get only within a few yards of

-the rock to which their boat was tied, and

-from that distance he surveyed them, expecting

-to find a dismal, ship-wrecked pair,

-very much ashamed of themselves and getting

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_175' name='page_175'></a>175</span>

-quite weary of each other. On the contrary

-the faces he could just distinguish in

-the uncertain light, were radiant, and Robinette&rsquo;s

-voice was as gay as ever he had heard

-it. He leaned upon his oars and looked at

-them with wonder.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Angel cousin!&rdquo; cried Robinette. &ldquo;Have

-you a little roast mutton about you somewhere,

-we are so hungry!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;You <i>are</i> a pretty pair!&rdquo; he remarked.

-&ldquo;What have you been and done?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;We just went for a row after tea, Middy

-dear,&rdquo; said Robinette, &ldquo;and look at the result.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;You&rsquo;re not rowing now,&rdquo; observed Carnaby

-pointedly.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;No,&rdquo; said Mark, &ldquo;we gave up rowing

-when the water left us, Carnaby. Conversation

-is more interesting in the mud.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;But how did you get here? I thought

-you were going to the Flag Rock?&rdquo; demanded

-Carnaby.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Is there a Flag Rock, Middy dear? I

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_176' name='page_176'></a>176</span>

-didn&rsquo;t know,&rdquo; said Robinette innocently.

-&ldquo;It shows we shouldn&rsquo;t go anywhere without

-our first cousin once removed. We just

-began to talk, here in the boat, and the water

-went away and left us.&rdquo; Then she laughed,

-and Mark laughed too, and Carnaby&rsquo;s look

-of unutterable scorn seemed to have no

-effect upon them. They might almost have

-been laughing at him, their mirth was so

-senseless, viewed in any other light.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s nearly eight o&rsquo;clock,&rdquo; he said solemnly.

-&ldquo;Perhaps you can form some idea

-as to what grandmother&rsquo;s saying, and Bates.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Well, you&rsquo;re going to be our rescuer,

-Middy darling, so it doesn&rsquo;t matter,&rdquo; said

-Robinette. &ldquo;Look! the water&rsquo;s coming up.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>But Carnaby seemed in no mood for

-waiting. He had taken off his boots, and

-rolled up his trousers above his knees.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;d let Lavendar wade ashore the best

-way he could!&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;but I s&rsquo;pose I&rsquo;ve

-got to save you or there&rsquo;d be a howl.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;No one would howl any louder than you,

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_177' name='page_177'></a>177</span>

-dear, and you know it. Don&rsquo;t step in!&rdquo;

-shrieked Robinette, &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve confided a shoe

-already to the river-mud! I just put my foot

-in a bit, to test it, and down the poor foot

-went and came up without its shoe. Oh,

-Middy dear, if your young life&ndash;&ndash;&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Blow my young life!&rdquo; retorted Carnaby.

-He was performing gymnastics on the edge

-of his boat, letting himself down and heaving

-himself up, by the strength of his arms.

-His legs were covered with mud.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;No go!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s as deep as the

-pit here; sometimes you can find a rock or a

-hard bit. We must just wait.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>They had not long to wait after all, for

-presently a rush of the tide sent the water

-swirling round the stranded boat, and carried

-Carnaby&rsquo;s craft to it.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Now it&rsquo;ll be all right,&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;You

-push with the boat-hook, Mark, and I&rsquo;ll pull&rdquo;;

-but it took a quarter of an hour&rsquo;s pushing

-and pulling to get the boat free of the mud.</p>

-<p>Except for the moon it would have been

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_178' name='page_178'></a>178</span>

-quite dark when the party reached the pier.

-They mounted the hill in some silence. It

-was difficult for Robinette to get along with

-her shoeless foot; Lavendar wanted to help

-her, but she demanded Carnaby&rsquo;s arm. He

-was sulking still. There was something he

-felt, but could not understand, in the subtle

-atmosphere of happiness by which the truant

-couple seemed to be surrounded; a something

-through which he could not reach; that

-seemed to put Robinette at a distance from

-him, although her shoulder touched his and

-her hand was on his arm. Growing pangs of

-his manhood assailed him, the male&rsquo;s jealousy

-of the other male. For the moment he

-hated Mark; Mark talking joyous nonsense

-in a way rather unlike himself, as if the night

-air had gone to his head.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I am glad you had the ferrets to amuse

-you this afternoon,&rdquo; said Robinette, in a propitiatory

-tone. &ldquo;Ferrets are such darlings,

-aren&rsquo;t they, with their pink eyes?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;O! <i>darlings</i>,&rdquo; assented Carnaby derisively.

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_179' name='page_179'></a>179</span>

-&ldquo;One of the darlings bit my finger

-to the bone, not that that&rsquo;s anything to you.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Oh! Middy dear, I am sorry!&rdquo; cried

-Robinette. &ldquo;I&rsquo;d kiss the place to make it

-well, if we weren&rsquo;t in such a hurry!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Carnaby began to find that a dignified

-reserve of manner was very difficult to keep

-up. His grandmother could manage it, he

-reflected, but he would need some practice.

-When they came to a place where there were

-sharp stones strewn on the road, he became

-a mere boy again quite suddenly, and proposed

-a &ldquo;queen&rsquo;s chair&rdquo; for Robinette. And

-so he and Lavendar crossed hands, and one

-arm of Robinette encircled the boy&rsquo;s head,

-while the other just touched Lavendar&rsquo;s neck

-enough to be steadied by it. Their laughter

-frightened the sleepy birds that night.

-The demoralized remnant of a Bank Holiday

-party would have been, Lavendar observed,

-respectability itself in comparison with them;

-and certainly no such group had ever approached

-Stoke Revel before. They were to

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_180' name='page_180'></a>180</span>

-enter by a back door, and Carnaby was to

-introduce them to the housekeeper&rsquo;s room,

-where he undertook that Bates would feed

-them. Lavendar alone was to be ambassador

-to the drawing room.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;The only one of us with a boot on each

-foot, of course we appoint him by a unanimous

-vote,&rdquo; said Robinette.</p>

-<p>But the chief thing that Carnaby remembered,

-after all, of that evening&rsquo;s adventure,

-was Robinette&rsquo;s sudden impulsive kiss as she

-bade him good-night, Lavendar standing by.

-She had never kissed him before, for all her

-cousinliness, but she just brushed his cool,

-round cheek to-night as if with a swan&rsquo;s-down

-puff.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s a shabby thing to call a kiss!&rdquo;

-said the embarrassed but exhilarated youth.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Stop growling, you young cub, and be

-grateful; half a loaf is better than no bread,&rdquo;

-was Lavendar&rsquo;s comment as he watched the

-draggled and muddy but still charming

-Robinette up the stairway.</p>

-<hr class='toprule' />

-<div class='chsp'>

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_181' name='page_181'></a>181</span>

-<a name='XIV_THE_EMPTY_SHRINE' id='XIV_THE_EMPTY_SHRINE'></a>

-<h2>XIV</h2>

-<h3>THE EMPTY SHRINE</h3>

-</div>

-<p>Lavendar had discovered, much to his

-dismay, that he must return to London upon

-important business; it was even a matter of

-uncertainty whether his father could spare

-him again or would consent to his returning to

-Stoke Revel to conclude Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s arrangements

-about the sale of the land.</p>

-<p>Affairs of the heart are like thunderstorms;

-the atmosphere may sometimes seem

-charged with electricity, and yet circumstances,

-like a sudden wind that sweeps the

-clouds away before they break, may cause

-the lovers to drift apart. Or all in a moment

-may come thunder, lightning, and rain from

-a clear sky, and there is nothing that is apt

-to precipitate matters like an unexpected

-parting.</p>

-<p>When Lavendar announced that he had

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_182' name='page_182'></a>182</span>

-to leave Stoke Revel, two pairs of eyes, Miss

-Smeardon&rsquo;s and Carnaby&rsquo;s, instantly looked

-at Robinette to see how she received the news,

-but she only smiled at the moment. She was

-just beginning her breakfast, and like the

-famous Charlotte, &ldquo;went on cutting bread

-and butter,&rdquo; without any sign of emotion.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Hurrah!&rdquo; thought the boy. &ldquo;Now we

-can have some fun, and I&rsquo;ll perhaps make

-her see that old Lavendar isn&rsquo;t the only

-companion in the world.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;She minds,&rdquo; thought Miss Smeardon,

-&ldquo;for she buttered that piece of bread on the

-one side a minute ago, and now she&rsquo;s just

-done it on the other&ndash;&ndash;and eaten it too.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;She doesn&rsquo;t care a bit,&rdquo; thought Lavendar.

-&ldquo;She&rsquo;s not even changed colour; my

-going or staying is nothing to her; I needn&rsquo;t

-come back.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>He had made up his mind to return just

-the same, if it were at all possible, and he

-told Mrs. de Tracy so. She remarked graciously

-that he was a welcome guest at any

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_183' name='page_183'></a>183</span>

-time, and Carnaby, hearing this, pinched

-Lord Roberts till he howled like a fiend, and

-fled for comfort to his mistress&rsquo;s lap.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;You little coward,&rdquo; said Carnaby, &ldquo;you

-should be ashamed to bear the name of a

-hero.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve mentioned to you before, Carnaby,

-I think, that I dislike that jest,&rdquo; said his

-grandmother, and Carnaby advancing to the

-injured beast said, &ldquo;Yes, ma&rsquo;am, and so does

-Bobs, doesn&rsquo;t he, Bobs?&rdquo; reducing the

-lap-dog to paroxysms of fury. &ldquo;Would it

-be any better if I called him <i>Kitchener</i>?&rdquo;

-hissing the word into the animal&rsquo;s face.

-&ldquo;Jealous, Bobs? Eh? <i>Kitchener</i>.&rdquo; This last

-word had a rasping sound that irritated the

-little creature more than ever; his teeth jibbered

-with anger, and Miss Smeardon had

-to offer him a saucer of cream before he

-could be calmed down enough for the rest

-of the party to hear themselves speak.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Had you nice letters this morning?

-Mine were very uninteresting,&rdquo; Robinette remarked

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_184' name='page_184'></a>184</span>

-to Lavendar as they stood together at

-the doorway in the sunshine, while Carnaby

-chased the lap-dog round and round the

-lawn.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I had only two letters; one was from

-my sister Amy, the candid one! her letters

-are not generally exhilarating.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Oh, I know, home letters are usually

-enough to send one straight to bed with a

-headache! They never sound a note of hope

-from first to last; although if you had no

-home, but only a house, like me, with no one

-but a caretaker in it, you&rsquo;d be very thankful

-to get them, doleful or not.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I doubt it,&rdquo; Mark answered, for Amy&rsquo;s

-letter seemed to be burning a hole in his

-pocket at that moment. He had skimmed it

-hurriedly through, but parts of it were already

-only too plain.</p>

-<p>When the others had gone into the house,

-he went off by himself, and jumping the

-low fence that divided the lawn from the

-fields beyond, he flung himself down under

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_185' name='page_185'></a>185</span>

-a tree to read it over again. Carnaby, spying

-him there, came rushing from the house, and

-was soon pouring out a tale of something

-that had happened somewhere, and throwing

-stones as he talked, at the birds circling

-about the ivied tower of the little church.</p>

-<p>The field was full of buttercups up to the

-very churchyard walls. &ldquo;I must get away

-by myself for a bit,&rdquo; Lavendar thought.

-&ldquo;That boy&rsquo;s chatter will drive me mad.&rdquo;

-At this point Carnaby&rsquo;s volatile attention

-was diverted by the sight of a gardener

-mounting a ladder to clear the sparrows&rsquo;

-nests from the water chutes, and he jumped

-up in a twinkling to take his part in this

-new joy. Lavendar rose, and strolled off

-with his hands in his pockets and his bare

-head bent. The grass he walked in was a very

-Field of the Cloth of Gold. His shoes were

-gilded by the pollen from the buttercups, his

-eyes dazzled by their colour; it was a relief to

-pass through the stone archway that led into

-the little churchyard. To his spirit at that moment

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_186' name='page_186'></a>186</span>

-the chill was refreshing. He loitered

-about for a few minutes, and then seeing

-that the door was open, he entered the

-church, closing the door gently behind

-him.</p>

-<p>It was very quiet in there and even the

-chirping of the sparrows was softened into a

-faint twitter. Here at last was a place set

-apart, a moment of stillness when he might

-think things out by himself.</p>

-<p>He took out Amy&rsquo;s letter, smoothing it flat

-on the prayer books before him, and forced

-himself to read it through. The early paragraphs

-dealt with some small item of family

-news which in his present state of mind mattered

-to Lavendar no more than the distant

-chirruping of the birds, out there in the

-sunshine. &ldquo;You seem determined to stay for

-some time at Stoke Revel,&rdquo; his sister wrote.

-&ldquo;No doubt the pretty American is the attraction.

-She sounds charming from your description,

-but my dear man, that&rsquo;s all froth!

-How many times have I heard this sort of

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_187' name='page_187'></a>187</span>

-thing from you before! Remember I know

-everything about your former loves.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;You <i>don&rsquo;t</i>, then,&rdquo; said Lavendar to himself.

-Down, down, down at the bottom of

-the well of the heart where truth lies, there

-is always some remembrance, generally a

-very little one, that can never be told to any

-confidant.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;You will find out faults in Mrs. Loring

-presently, just like the rest of them,&rdquo; continued

-the pitiless writer. (Amy&rsquo;s handwriting

-was painfully distinct.) &ldquo;I must tell

-you that at the Cowleys&rsquo; the other day, I

-suddenly came face to face with Gertrude

-Meredith <i>and Dolly</i>! Dolly looks a good

-deal older already and fatter, I thought. I

-fear she is losing her looks, for her colour

-has become fixed, and she <i>will</i> wear no collars

-still, although on a rather thick neck,

-it&rsquo;s not at all becoming. I spoke to her for

-about three minutes, as it was less awkward,

-when we met suddenly face to face like that.

-She laughed a good deal, and asked for you

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_188' name='page_188'></a>188</span>

-rather audaciously, I thought. They live

-near Winchester now, and since the Colonel&rsquo;s

-death are pretty badly off, Gertrude says.

-Dolly is going to Devonshire to stay with

-the Cowleys; you may meet her there any

-day, remember. It does seem incredible to

-me that a man of your discrimination could

-have been won by the obvious devotion of a

-girl like Dolly; but having given your word

-I almost think you would better have kept

-it, rather than suffer all this criticism from a

-host of mutual friends.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Lavendar groaned aloud. He had a good

-memory, and with all too great distinctness

-did he now remember Dolly Meredith&rsquo;s laugh.

-How wretched it had all been; not a word

-had ever passed between them that had any

-value now. If he could have washed the

-thought of her forever from his memory,

-how greatly he would have rejoiced at that

-moment.</p>

-<p>Well, it was over; written down against

-him, that he had been what the world called

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_189' name='page_189'></a>189</span>

-a jilt and a fool; yes, certainly a fool, but

-not so great a one as to follow his folly to

-its ultimate conclusion, and tie himself for

-life to a woman he did not love.</p>

-<p>Lavendar was extraordinarily sensitive

-about the breaking of his engagement; partly

-because Miss Meredith herself, in her first

-rage, had avowed his responsibility for her

-blighted future, giving him no chance for

-chivalrous behaviour; partly because in all

-his transient love affairs he had easily tired

-of the women who inspired them. He seemed

-thirsty for love, but weary of it almost as

-soon as the draught reached his lips.</p>

-<p>And now had he a chance again?&ndash;&ndash;or

-was it all to end in disappointment once

-more, in that cold disappointment of the

-heart that has received stones for bread? It

-was not entirely his own fault; he had expected

-much from life, and hitherto had received

-very little. But Robinette!</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Let me find all her faults now,&rdquo; he said

-to himself, &ldquo;or evermore keep silent; meantime

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_190' name='page_190'></a>190</span>

-I hope I am not concealing too many

-of my own.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>He tried to force himself into criticism;

-to look at her as a cold observer from the

-outside would have done; for that curious

-Border country of Love which he had entered

-has not an equable climate at all. It

-is fire and frost alternate; and criticism is

-either roused almost to a morbid pitch, or

-else the faculty is drugged, and nothing,

-not even the enumeration of a hundred

-foibles will awaken it for a time.</p>

-<p>When the cold fit had been upon him the

-evening before, Lavendar had said to himself

-that her manner was too free&ndash;&ndash;that she had

-led him on too quickly; no, that expression

-was dishonourable and unjust; he repented

-it instantly; she had been too unself-conscious,

-too girlish, too unthinking, in what

-she said and did. &ldquo;But she&rsquo;s a widow after

-all, though she&rsquo;s only two and twenty,&rdquo;

-he went on to himself. &ldquo;Hang it! I wish

-she were not! If her heart were in her husband&rsquo;s

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_191' name='page_191'></a>191</span>

-grave I should be moaning at that;

-and because I see that it is not, I become

-critical. There&rsquo;s nothing quite perfect in

-life!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>He had begun by noticing some little defects

-in her personal appearance, but he was

-long past that now; what did such trifles

-matter, here or there? Then he remembered

-all that he had heard said about American

-women. Did those pretty clothes of hers mean

-that she would be extravagant and selfish to

-obtain them? Could a young man with no

-great fortune offer her the luxury that was

-necessary to her? and even so, what changes

-come with time! He had a full realization

-of what the boredom of family life can be,

-when passion has grown stale.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;At seventy, say, when I am palsied and

-she is old and fat, will romance be alive

-then? Will such feeling leave anything

-real behind it when it falls away, as the

-white blossoms on Mrs. Prettyman&rsquo;s plum

-tree will shrink and fall a fortnight hence?&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_192' name='page_192'></a>192</span></div>

-<p>He looked about him. On the walls of

-the little church were tablets with the de

-Tracy names; the names of her forefathers

-amongst them. Under his feet were other

-flags with names upon them too; and out

-there in the sunshine were the grave-stones

-of a hundred dead. How many of them had

-been happy in their loves?</p>

-<p>Not so many, he thought, if all were told,

-and why should he hope to be different?

-Yet surely this was a new feeling, a worthy

-one, at last. It was not for her charming

-person that he loved her; not because of

-her beauty and her gaiety only; but because

-he had seen in her something that gave a

-promise of completion to his own nature,

-the something that would satisfy not only

-his senses but his empty heart.</p>

-<p>He clenched his hands on the carved top of

-the old pew in front of him, which was fashioned

-into a laughing gnome with the body

-of a duck. &ldquo;And if this should be all a

-dream,&rdquo; he asked himself again, &ldquo;if this

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_193' name='page_193'></a>193</span>

-should all be false too! Good Lord!&rdquo; he

-cried half aloud, &ldquo;I want to be honest now!

-I want to find the truth. My whole life is

-on the throw this time!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>There was a moment&rsquo;s silence after he had

-uttered the words. He got up and moved

-slowly down the aisle, opening the door, seeing

-again the meadow of buttercups, yellow

-as gold, and listening again to the sparrows

-chirruping in the sunshine outside.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I have been in that church a quarter of

-an hour,&rdquo; he said to himself, &ldquo;and in trying

-to dive to the depths of myself and find

-out whether I was giving a woman all I had

-to give, I did not get time to consider that

-woman&rsquo;s probable answer, should I place my

-uninteresting life and liberty at her disposal.&rdquo;</p>

-<hr class='toprule' />

-<div class='chsp'>

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_194' name='page_194'></a>194</span>

-<a name='XV_NOW_LUBIN_IS_AWAY' id='XV_NOW_LUBIN_IS_AWAY'></a>

-<h2>XV</h2>

-<h3>&ldquo;NOW LUBIN IS AWAY&rdquo;</h3>

-</div>

-<p>Lavendar made his adieux after luncheon

-and went off to London. &ldquo;Good-bye for the

-present, Mrs. de Tracy; I shall be back on

-Wednesday probably, if I can arrange it,&rdquo;

-he said. &ldquo;Good-bye, Mrs. Loring,&rdquo; and here

-he altered the phrase to &ldquo;Shall I come back

-on Wednesday?&rdquo; for his hostess had left the

-open door.</p>

-<p>There was no hesitation, but all too little

-sentiment, about Robinette&rsquo;s reply.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Wednesday, at the latest, are my orders,&rdquo;

-she answered merrily, and with the words ringing

-in his ears Lavendar took his departure.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Do you remember that this is the afternoon

-of the garden party at Revelsmere?&rdquo;

-Mrs. de Tracy enquired, coming into the

-drawing room a few minutes later, where

-Mrs. Loring stood by the open window. She

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_195' name='page_195'></a>195</span>

-had allowed herself just five minutes of depression,

-staring out at the buttercup meadow.

-How black the rooks looked as they flew

-about it and how dreary everything was, now

-that Lavendar had gone! She was woman

-enough to be able to feel inwardly amused

-at her own absurdity, when she recognized

-that the ensuing three days seemed to stretch

-out into a limitless expanse of dullness. &ldquo;The

-village seemed asleep or dead now Lubin was

-away!&rdquo; Still, after all, it was an occasion

-for wearing a pretty frock, and she knew

-herself well enough to feel sure that the

-sight of a few of her fellow-creatures even

-pretending to enjoy themselves, would make

-her volatile spirits rise like the mercury in a

-thermometer on a hot day.</p>

-<p>Miss Smeardon was to be her companion,

-as Mrs. de Tracy had a headache that afternoon

-and was afraid of the heat, she said.

-&ldquo;What heat?&rdquo; Robinette had asked innocently,

-for in spite of the brilliant sunlight

-the wind blew from the east, keen as a knife.

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_196' name='page_196'></a>196</span>

-&ldquo;I shall take a good wrap in the carriage

-in spite of this tropical temperature,&rdquo; she

-thought. Carnaby refused point blank to

-drive with them; he would bicycle to the

-party or else not go at all, so it was alone

-with Miss Smeardon that Robinette started in

-the heavy old landau behind the palsied horse.</p>

-<p>Miss Smeardon gave one glance at Mrs.

-Loring&rsquo;s dress, and Robinette gave one glance

-at Miss Smeardon&rsquo;s, each making her own

-comments.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;That white cloth will go to the cleaner,

-I suppose, after one wearing, and as for

-that thing on her head with lilac wistaria

-drooping over the brim, it can&rsquo;t be meant

-as a covering, or a protection, either from sun

-or wind; it&rsquo;s nothing but an ornament!&rdquo;

-Miss Smeardon commented; while to herself

-Robinette ejaculated,&ndash;&ndash;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;A penwiper, an old, much-used penwiper,

-is all that Miss Smeardon resembles

-in that black rag!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Carnaby, watching the start at the door,

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_197' name='page_197'></a>197</span>

-whistled in open admiration as Robinette

-came down the steps.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Well, well! we are got up to kill this

-afternoon; pity old Mark has just gone; but

-cheer up, Cousin Robin, there&rsquo;s always a

-curate on hand!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>For once Robinette&rsquo;s ready tongue played

-her false, and a sense of loneliness overcame

-her at the sound of Lavendar&rsquo;s name. She

-gathered up her long white skirts and got

-into the carriage with as much dignity as she

-could muster, while Carnaby, his eyes twinkling

-with mischief, stood ready to shut the

-door after Miss Smeardon.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Hope you&rsquo;ll enjoy your drive,&rdquo; he jeered.

-&ldquo;You&rsquo;ll need to hold on your hats. Bucephalus

-goes at such fiery speed that they&rsquo;ll

-be torn off your heads unless you do.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Middy dear, you&rsquo;re not the least amusing,&rdquo;

-said Robinette quite crossly, and with

-a lurch the carriage moved off.</p>

-<p>Miss Smeardon settled herself for conversation.

-&ldquo;I&rsquo;m afraid you will find me but a

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_198' name='page_198'></a>198</span>

-dull companion, Mrs. Loring,&rdquo; she said,

-glancing sideways at Robinette from under

-the brim of her mushroom hat.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Oh, you will be able to tell me who everyone

-is,&rdquo; said Robinette as cheerfully as she

-could.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I am no gossip,&rdquo; Miss Smeardon protested.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It isn&rsquo;t necessary to gossip, is it?&ndash;&ndash;but

-I&rsquo;ve a wholesome interest in my fellow creatures.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;And it is well to know about people a

-little; when one comes among strangers as

-you do, Mrs. Loring; one can&rsquo;t be too careful&ndash;&ndash;an

-American, particularly.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Miss Smeardon&rsquo;s voice trailed off upon a

-note of insinuation; but Robinette took no

-notice of the remark. She did not seem to

-have anything to say, so Miss Smeardon took

-up another subject.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;What a pity that Mr. Lavendar had to

-leave before this afternoon; he would have

-been such an addition to our party!&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_199' name='page_199'></a>199</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;Yes, wouldn&rsquo;t he?&rdquo; Robinette agreed,

-though she carefully kept out of her voice

-the real passion of assent that was in her

-heart.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Mr. Lavendar is so agreeable, I always

-think,&rdquo; Miss Smeardon went on. &ldquo;Everyone

-likes him; he almost carries his pleasant ways

-too far. I suppose that was how&ndash;&ndash;&rdquo; She

-paused, and added again, &ldquo;Oh, but as I said,

-I never talk scandal!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Do you think it&rsquo;s possible to be too pleasant?&rdquo;

-Robinette remarked, stupidly enough,

-scarcely caring what she said.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Well, when it leads a poor girl to imagine

-that she is loved! I hear that Dolly

-Meredith is just heart-broken. The engagement

-kept on for quite a year, I believe,

-and then to break it off so heartlessly!&ndash;&ndash;I

-was reminded of it all by coming here. Miss

-Meredith is a cousin of our hostess, and they

-met first at Revelsmere when they were quite

-young.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;There is always a certain amount of talk

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_200' name='page_200'></a>200</span>

-when an engagement has to be broken off,&rdquo;

-said Robinette in a cold voice.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;They seemed quite devoted at first,&rdquo;

-Miss Smeardon began; but Robinette interrupted

-her.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;The sooner such things are forgotten the

-better, I think,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;No one, except

-the two people concerned, ever knows the real

-truth.&ndash;&ndash;Tell me, Miss Smeardon, whom we

-are likely to meet at Revelsmere? Who is our

-hostess? What sort of parties does she give?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Being so firmly switched off from the affairs

-of Mr. Lavendar and Miss Meredith, it

-was impossible for Miss Smeardon to talk

-about them any more, and she had to turn to

-a less congenial theme.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;We shall meet the neighbours,&rdquo; she told

-Robinette, &ldquo;but I am afraid they may not

-interest you very much. I understand that

-in America you are accustomed to a great

-deal of the society of gentlemen. Here there

-are so few, and all of them are married.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;All?&rdquo; laughed Robinette.</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_201' name='page_201'></a>201</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;Well, there is Mr. Finch, the curate,

-but he is a celibate; and young Mr. Tait of

-Strewe, but he is slightly paralysed.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Why, Carnaby must be quite an eligible

-bachelor in these parts,&rdquo; said Robinette; but

-Miss Smeardon was so deadly literal that she

-accepted the remark as a serious one.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Not quite yet; in a few years&rsquo; time we

-shall need to be very careful, there are so

-many girls here, but not all of them desirable,

-of course.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;There are? What a dull time they must

-have with the Married Men, the Celibate, the

-Paralytic, and Carnaby! I&rsquo;m glad my girlhood

-wasn&rsquo;t spent in Devonshire.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Conversation ended here, for the carriage

-rumbled up the avenue, and Robinette looked

-about her eagerly. Revelsmere was a nice old

-house, surrounded by fine sloping lawns and

-a background of sombre beechwoods. The

-lawns to-day were dotted with groups of people,

-mainly women, and elderly at that. As

-Robinette and Miss Smeardon alighted at

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_202' name='page_202'></a>202</span>

-the door an elderly hostess welcomed them,

-and an elderly host led them across the lawn

-and straightly they fell into the clutches of

-more and more elderlies.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It is fairly bewildering!&rdquo; Robinette cried

-in her heart; then she saw a bevy of girls approaching;

-such nice-looking girls, happy,

-well dressed, but all unattended by their

-suitable complement of young men.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;For whom do they dress, here? They&rsquo;ve

-a deal of self-respect, I think, to go on getting

-themselves up so nicely for themselves and

-the Celibate, the Paralytic, and Carnaby,&rdquo;

-thought Robinette, as she watched them.</p>

-<p>Presently another couple came across the

-lawn; the young woman was by no means a

-girl, rather heavily built, with a high fixed

-colour. She was attended by a man. &ldquo;Not

-the Celibate certainly,&rdquo; thought Mrs. Loring

-with a glance at his bullock-like figure, his

-thick neck, and glossy black hair, &ldquo;nor the

-Paralytic; and it&rsquo;s not Carnaby. It must

-be a new arrival!&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_203' name='page_203'></a>203</span></div>

-<p>At that moment it began to rain, but nothing

-daunted, their hostess approached her,

-and saying pleasantly that she wished to introduce

-her to Miss Meredith, she left Robinette

-and the young woman standing together

-under a spreading tree, and took the gentleman

-away with her.</p>

-<p>The moment that she heard the name, Robinette

-realized who Miss Meredith was. They

-seated themselves side by side on a garden

-bench, and Miss Meredith remarked upon the

-heat, planting a rather fat hand upon the

-arm of the garden seat, and surveying it complacently,

-especially the very bright diamond

-ring upon the third finger.</p>

-<p>After a few preliminary remarks, she asked

-Mrs. Loring if she were stopping in the

-neighbourhood.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Yes, I am staying at Stoke Revel for a

-short time,&rdquo; Robinette replied; &ldquo;Mrs. de

-Tracy is my aunt, or at least I am Admiral

-de Tracy&rsquo;s niece.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Her companion did not seem to take the

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_204' name='page_204'></a>204</span>

-least interest in this part of the information,

-only when Stoke Revel was mentioned she

-looked around suddenly as if surprised.</p>

-<p>They talked upon indifferent subjects,

-while Robinette, as she watched Miss Meredith,

-was saying a good deal to herself,

-although she only spoke aloud about the

-weather and the Devonshire scenery.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I will be just, if I can&rsquo;t be generous,&rdquo;

-she thought. &ldquo;She has (or she must once

-have had) a fine complexion. I dare say

-she is sincere enough; she may be sensible;

-she might be good-humoured,&ndash;&ndash;when

-pleased.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;There is going to be a shower,&rdquo; said

-Miss Meredith, &ldquo;but I&rsquo;ve nothing on to

-spoil,&rdquo; she added, glancing at Robinette&rsquo;s

-hat.</p>

-<p>Sitting there on the bench, hearing the spitting

-rain upon the water below them and

-watching the leaden mists that slowly gathered

-over the landscape, Robinette fell upon

-a moment of soul sickness very unusual to

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_205' name='page_205'></a>205</span>

-her. Miss Meredith too was silent, absorbed

-in her own thoughts.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;If she had looked even a little different

-it would have been so much easier to explain,&rdquo;

-thought Robinette. Then suddenly

-she glanced up. She saw that her companion&rsquo;s

-face had softened, and changed. There

-was a look,&ndash;&ndash;Robinette caught it just for

-one moment,&ndash;&ndash;such as a proud angry child

-might have worn: sulky, hurt to the heart,

-but determined not to cry. Instantly a chord

-was struck in Robinette&rsquo;s soul. &ldquo;She has suffered,

-anyway,&rdquo; she thought. &ldquo;May I be forgiven

-for my harsh judgment!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>With a shiver she drew her wrap about

-her shoulders, and Miss Meredith turned towards

-her. The expression Robinette had

-noticed passed from the high-coloured face

-and left it as before, self-complacent and

-slightly patronizing. &ldquo;You seem to feel

-cold,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I never do; which is rather

-unfortunate, as I&rsquo;m just going out to

-India!&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_206' name='page_206'></a>206</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;Indeed? How soon are you going?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;In about six weeks. I&rsquo;m just going to

-be married, and we sail directly afterwards,&rdquo;

-said Miss Meredith. &ldquo;You saw Mr. Joyce, I

-think, when we came up together a few minutes

-ago?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>A weight as if of a ton of lead was lifted

-from Robinette&rsquo;s heart as she spoke. She

-could scarcely refrain from jumping up to

-throw her arms about Dolly Meredith&rsquo;s neck

-and kiss her. As it was, she bubbled over with

-a kind of sympathetic interest that astonished

-the other woman. It is only too easy

-to lead an approaching bride to talk about

-her own affairs, for she can seldom take in

-the existence of even her nearest and dearest

-at such a time, and in a few minutes the

-two young women were deep in conversation.

-When a quarter of an hour later Miss Smeardon

-appeared to tell Robinette that they

-must be going, she looked up with a start at

-the sound of footsteps on the gravel path.

-&ldquo;Oh, you are here, Mrs. Loring; we couldn&rsquo;t

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_207' name='page_207'></a>207</span>

-think where you had gone,&rdquo; said Miss Smeardon,

-acidly.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;And here is Miss Meredith of all people!&rdquo;

-she continued, &ldquo;I thought you were sure to

-be on the tennis court, Miss Meredith; Mr.

-Joyce is playing now.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Oh, we have had such a delightful talk,&rdquo;

-said Dolly, so flushed with pleasure that Miss

-Smeardon gazed at her in astonishment.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;If only I knew her well enough to send

-her a munificent wedding present! How I

-should love to do so; just to register my own

-joy,&rdquo; said Robinette to herself. As it was

-she shook hands very warmly with Miss

-Meredith before they parted, and when half

-way across the lawn, looked back again, and

-waved her hand gaily. Miss Meredith was

-pacing the grass, and treading heavily beside

-her, with a very gallant air, was her bullock-like

-young man.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Mr. Joyce is quite wealthy,&rdquo; said Miss

-Smeardon. &ldquo;I understand that he is an only

-son too, and will some day inherit a fine property.

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_208' name='page_208'></a>208</span>

-Miss Meredith is most fortunate, at her

-age and with her history.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Robinette said nothing. She looked out at

-the glistening reaches of the river, now shining

-through the silver mist; at the fields

-yellow with buttercups, and the folds of the

-distant hills. As they drove up the lane to

-the house, the birds, refreshed by the rain,

-were singing like angels. In her heart too,

-something was singing as blithely as any bird

-amongst them all.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Sometimes, sometimes our mistakes do

-not come home to roost!&rdquo; she thought, &ldquo;but

-fly away and make nests elsewhere&ndash;&ndash;rich

-nests in India too!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;How did you enjoy the party, Cousin

-Robin?&rdquo; said Carnaby, who was waiting

-for them in the doorway. &ldquo;I had a good

-tuck-in of strawberries. The ladies were a

-little young for my taste; just immature

-girls; no one under sixty, and rather frisky,

-don&rsquo;t you think? By the way did you see

-Number One and her millionaire?&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_209' name='page_209'></a>209</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know what you mean by Number

-One,&rdquo; said Robinette, haughtily, as she passed

-in at the door.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;You will, when you&rsquo;re Number Two!&rdquo;

-rejoined Carnaby, stooping to pinch Lord

-Roberts&rsquo; tail till the hero yelped aloud.</p>

-<hr class='toprule' />

-<div class='chsp'>

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_210' name='page_210'></a>210</span>

-<a name='XVI_TWO_LETTERS' id='XVI_TWO_LETTERS'></a>

-<h2>XVI</h2>

-<h3>TWO LETTERS</h3>

-</div>

-<p>Lavendar tore up his fourth sheet of paper

-and began afresh. &ldquo;Dear Mrs. Loring.&rdquo;

-No, that would not do; he took another

-sheet, and began again:&ndash;&ndash;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;My dear Mrs. Loring,&ndash;&ndash;Your commission

-for old Mrs. Prettyman has taken some

-little time to execute, for I had to go to two

-or three shops before finding a chair &lsquo;with

-green cushions, and a wide seat, so comfortable

-that it would almost act as an an&aelig;sthetic

-if her rheumatism happened to be bad,

-and yet quite suitable for a cottage room.&rsquo;

-These were my orders, I think, and like all

-your orders they demand something better

-than the mere perfunctory observance. My

-own proportions differing a good deal from

-those of the old lady, it is still an open question

-whether what seemed comfortable to me

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_211' name='page_211'></a>211</span>

-will be quite the same to her. I can but

-hope so, and the chair will be dispatched

-at once.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;London is noisy and dusty, and grimy

-and stuffy, and, to one man at least, very,

-very dull. A boat on Greenshaw ferry seems

-the only spot in the world where any gaiety

-is to be found. You can hear the cuckoos

-calling across the river as you read this, no

-doubt, and Carnaby is rendered happier than

-he deserves by being allowed to row you

-down to tell Mrs. Prettyman about the

-chair. I feel as if, like the Japanese, I could

-journey a hundred miles to worship that

-wonderful tree.&ndash;&ndash;Don&rsquo;t let the blossoms

-fall until I come!</p>

-<p>&ldquo;There seems a good deal of business to

-be done. My father unfortunately is no

-better, so he cannot come down to Stoke

-Revel, and I shall probably return upon

-Wednesday morning. A poem of Browning&rsquo;s

-runs in my head&ndash;&ndash;something about

-three days&ndash;&ndash;I can&rsquo;t quote exactly.</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_212' name='page_212'></a>212</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;If my sister were writing this letter, she

-would say that I have been very hard to

-please, and uninterested in everything since

-I came home. Indeed it seems as if I were.

-London in this part of it, in hot weather,

-makes a man weary for green woods, a sliding

-river, and a Book of Verses underneath

-a Bough. Well, perhaps I shall have all of

-them by Wednesday afternoon. You will

-think I can do nothing but grumble. All

-the same, into what was the mere dull routine

-of uncongenial work before, your influence

-has come with a current of new energy;

-like the tide from the sea swelling up into

-the inland river.&ndash;&ndash;I&rsquo;m at it again! Rivers

-on the brain evidently.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I hope meanwhile that Carnaby behaves

-himself, and is not too much of a bore, and

-that England,&ndash;&ndash;England in spring at least,

-is gaining a corner in your heart? Your

-mother called it home, remember. Yes, do

-try to remember that!</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Did you go to the garden party? Did you

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_213' name='page_213'></a>213</span>

-walk? Did you drive? Did you like it?

-Who was there? Were you dull?&rdquo;</p>

-<hr class='tb' />

-<p>There was a postscript:&ndash;&ndash;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I have found the verse from Browning,

-&lsquo;So I shall see her in three days.&rsquo;</p>

-<p class='ralign'>&ldquo;M. L.&rdquo;</p>

-<hr class='tb' />

-<p class='ralign'>&ldquo;Tuesday, 19th.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Dear Mr. Lavendar: First, many thanks

-for Nurse&rsquo;s armchair, which arrived in perfect

-order, and is a shining monument to

-your good taste. She does nothing but look

-at it, shrouding it when she retires to bed

-with an old table-cover, to protect it from the

-night air.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Whether she will ever make its acquaintance

-thoroughly enough to sit in it I do not

-know, but it will give her an enormous

-amount of pleasure. Perhaps her glow of

-pride in its possession does her as much good

-as the comfort she might take in its use.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Her &lsquo;rheumatics&rsquo; are very painful just

-now, and I have a good deal to do with

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_214' name='page_214'></a>214</span>

-Duckie. You remember Duckie? I call her

-Mrs. Mackenzie, after that lady in The Newcomes

-who talked the Colonel to death. Mrs.

-Mackenzie is heavy, elderly, and strong-willed.

-I am acquainted with every bone, tendon,

-and sinew in her body, having to lift her

-into a coop behind the cottage where she

-will not wake Nurse at dawn with her eternal

-quacking. She has heretofore slept under

-Nurse&rsquo;s bedroom window and dislikes change

-of any kind. So lucky she has no offspring!

-I tremble to think of what maternal example

-might do in such a talkative family!</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Stoke Revel is as it was and ever will be,

-world without end; only Aunt de Tracy is

-crosser than when you are here and life is

-not as gay, although Carnaby does his dear,

-cubbish best. If ever you desire your mental

-jewels to shine at their brightest; if ever you

-wish a tolerably good disposition to seem

-like that of an angel; if ever, in a fit of

-vanity, you would like to appear as a blend

-of Apollo, Lancelot, Demosthenes, Prince

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_215' name='page_215'></a>215</span>

-Charlie, Ajax, and Solomon, just fly to Stoke

-Revel and become part of the household.

-Assume nothing; simply appear, and the

-surroundings will do the rest; like the penny-in-the-slot

-arrangements. Seen upon a

-background of Bates, William, Benson, Big

-Cummins, the Curate, Miss Smeardon, and

-may I dare to add, the lady of the Manor

-herself,&ndash;&ndash;any living breathing man takes on

-an Olympian majesty. I shouldn&rsquo;t miss you

-in Boston nor in London; perhaps even in

-Weston I might find a wretched substitute,

-but here you are priceless!</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I have some news for you. On Saturday

-Miss Smeardon and I went to a garden party.

-That was what it was called. The thermometer

-was only slightly below zero when we

-started, and that luminary masquerading as

-the sun was pretending to shine. Soon after

-we arrived at the festive scene, there were

-gusts of wind and rain. I sought the shelter

-of a spreading tree, the kitchen fire not

-being available, and I was joined there by

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_216' name='page_216'></a>216</span>

-the hostess, who presented her niece, your

-Miss Meredith.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Dear Mr. Lavendar, this is a subject we

-cannot write about, you and I. I am loyal

-to my sex, and what Miss Meredith said, and

-looked, and did, are all as sacred to me as

-they ought to be. I only want to tell you

-that she is happy; that she has this very

-week become engaged, and is going to

-India with her husband in a month. Now

-that little cankerworm, that has been gnawing

-at your roots of life for the last year or

-two, has done its worst, and you are perfectly

-free to go and make other mistakes.

-I only hope you&rsquo;ll get &lsquo;scot free&rsquo; from those,

-too, for I don&rsquo;t like to see nice men burn

-their fingers. We became such good friends

-huddled up in that boat when we were stuck

-in the mud&ndash;&ndash;Ugh! I can smell it now!&ndash;&ndash;that

-I am glad to be the first to send you

-pleasant news.</p>

-<p class='ralign'>&ldquo;Sincerely yours,<span class='rindent8'>&nbsp;</span><br />

-&ldquo;<span class='smcap'>Robinetta Loring</span>.&rdquo;<span class='rindent2'>&nbsp;</span></p>

-<hr class='toprule' />

-<div class='chsp'>

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_217' name='page_217'></a>217</span>

-<a name='XVII_MRS_DE_TRACY_CROSSES_THE_FERRY' id='XVII_MRS_DE_TRACY_CROSSES_THE_FERRY'></a>

-<h2>XVII</h2>

-<h3>MRS. DE TRACY CROSSES THE FERRY</h3>

-</div>

-<p>Lavendar&rsquo;s blunt refusal, except under

-certain conditions, to announce to Mrs.

-Prettyman her coming ejection from the

-cottage at Wittisham, was unprofessional

-enough, as he himself felt; but it was final

-and categorical. Conveying as it did a sort

-of tacit remonstrance, this refusal had an

-unfortunate effect, for it only served to rouse

-Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s formidable obstinacy. She

-had seized upon one point only in their numberless

-and wearisome discussions of the

-matter: Mrs. Prettyman had no legal claim

-upon Stoke Revel. To give her compensation

-for the plum tree would be to allow

-that she had; to create a precedent highly

-dangerous under the circumstances. How

-could one refuse to other old women or old

-men leaving their cottages what one had

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_218' name='page_218'></a>218</span>

-weakly granted to her? The demands would

-be unceasing, the trouble endless. So arguing,

-Mrs. de Tracy soon brought herself to

-a state of determination bordering on a sort

-of mania. She was old, and in exaggerated

-harshness her life was retreating as it were

-into its last stronghold, at bay.</p>

-<p>As good as her word, for she had vowed

-she would warn Mrs. Prettyman herself, and

-she was never one to procrastinate, the lady

-of the Manor proceeded to plan her visit to

-Wittisham. She had not crossed the river

-for years. Wittisham, one of the loveliest

-villages in England, perhaps, though little

-known, was a thorn in her side, as it would

-have been in that of any other landlord with

-empty pockets.</p>

-<p>What you could not deal with to your

-own advantage, it was better to ignore, and

-on this autocratic principle, Mrs. de Tracy

-had left Wittisham to itself.</p>

-<p>But now the boat carried her there, alone

-and fierce&ndash;&ndash;<i>thrawn</i>, as the Scotch say&ndash;&ndash;bent

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_219' name='page_219'></a>219</span>

-upon a course of conduct that she knew

-would hold her up to the hatred of every right-thinking

-person of her acquaintance, and

-bitterly triumphant in the knowledge. The

-meanness of her errand never struck her.

-On the contrary, she would have argued it

-was one well worthy of her, a part of the

-scheme in the consummation of which she

-had spent her married life and her whole

-indomitable energy, losing actually her own

-identity in the process, and becoming an

-inexorable machine. That scheme was the

-holding together of Stoke Revel for the

-de Tracys, the maintenance of family dignity

-and power, the pre-eminence of a race that

-had always ruled. The river beneath her,

-carrying her to the fulfilment of her duty,

-the noble river, widening to the sea, subject

-to its tides and made turbulent by its storms,

-typified to Mrs. de Tracy only the greatness

-of Stoke Revel. From its banks the

-de Tracys had sent out, generation after

-generation, men who had commanded fleets,

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_220' name='page_220'></a>220</span>

-who had upheld the national honour upon

-the farthest seas, very often at the cost

-of life. There was no sacrifice of herself

-at which Mrs. de Tracy would have hesitated

-in upholding this ideal, no sacrifice

-of others, either. What was Lizzie Prettyman

-in comparison? A bag of old bones, fit

-for nothing but the workhouse!</p>

-<p>&ldquo;A little faster, William,&rdquo; said the widow,

-sitting upright in the stern, and William the

-footman bent to his oars, the beads of perspiration

-standing on his brow. When Mrs.

-de Tracy stepped out upon the pier, she had

-to be reminded where the Prettyman cottage

-was.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;You&rsquo;ll know it by the plum tree,

-ma&rsquo;am,&rdquo; said William respectfully, &ldquo;everybody

-does.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>It was not far off on the river side. The

-tide had ebbed and left a stretch of muddy

-foreshore in front of it, where the rotting

-poles for hanging the fishing nets out to

-dry stood gauntly up. Mrs. de Tracy approached

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_221' name='page_221'></a>221</span>

-the steps, which merged into the

-flagged path before the door, and paused to

-survey the property she intended to part

-with. She had no eye for the picturesque.

-A few white petals from the blossoming plum

-tree, scattered by the breeze, fell upon her

-black bonnet and shoulders. A faint scent

-of honey came from it and the hum of bees,

-for the day was warm. The tumble-down

-condition of the cottage engaged Mrs. de

-Tracy&rsquo;s attention.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;And for this,&rdquo; she thought scornfully,

-&ldquo;a man will give hundreds of pounds!

-There&rsquo;s truth in the adage that a fool and

-his money are soon parted!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>She mounted the steps that led up to the

-patch of garden, her keen, cold eyes everywhere

-at once. &ldquo;A cat can&rsquo;t sneeze without

-she &rsquo;ears &rsquo;im!&rdquo; her villagers at Stoke Revel

-were wont to say, disappearing into their

-houses as rabbits into their burrows at sight

-of a terrier.</p>

-<p>Old Elizabeth Prettyman stood at her

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_222' name='page_222'></a>222</span>

-door, and it took some time to make her

-realize who her august visitor was. She was

-getting blind; she had never been a favourite

-with Mrs. de Tracy, nor had she entered

-Stoke Revel Manor since her nursling disgraced

-it by marrying a Bean. She curtseyed

-humbly to the great lady.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;There now, ma&rsquo;am,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;it&rsquo;s not

-often we have seen you across the river. Will

-you please to come inside and sit down,

-ma&rsquo;am? &rsquo;T is very warm this afternoon, it is.&rdquo;

-She was a good deal fluttered in her welcome,

-for there was that in Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s air

-that seemed to bode misfortune.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I shall sit down for a few minutes, Elizabeth,&rdquo;

-was the reply, &ldquo;while I explain my

-visit to you.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Mrs. Prettyman stood aside respectfully,

-and Mrs. de Tracy swept past her into the

-cottage and seated herself there. It never

-occurred to her to ask the old woman to sit

-down in her own house; she expected her

-to stand throughout the interview. Without

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_223' name='page_223'></a>223</span>

-further preamble, then, Mrs. de Tracy came

-to the point:&ndash;&ndash;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Elizabeth,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;I have come to

-tell you that I am going to sell the land on

-which this cottage stands, and that you will

-have to find some other home.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>The old woman did not understand for a

-minute. &ldquo;You be going to sell the land,

-ma&rsquo;am?&rdquo; she repeated stupidly.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Yes, I am. A gentleman from London

-wishes to buy it; you will need to go.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;A gentleman from London! Lor, ma&rsquo;am,

-no gentleman from London wouldn&rsquo;t live

-&rsquo;ere!&rdquo; Elizabeth cried, perfectly dazed by

-the statement.</p>

-<p>Mrs. de Tracy repeated: &ldquo;It is not your

-business, Elizabeth, what he intends to do

-with the place; all you have to do is to remove

-from the house.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>The old woman sank down on the nearest

-chair and covered her face with her hands.

-She was so old and so tired that she had no

-heart to face life under new conditions, even

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_224' name='page_224'></a>224</span>

-should they be better than those she left. A

-younger woman would have snapped her

-fingers in Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s face, so to speak,

-and wished her joy of her old rattletrap of

-a house, but Elizabeth Prettyman, after a

-lifetime of struggles, had not vitality enough

-for such an action. She had never dreamed

-of leaving the cottage, and where was she

-to go? Her furrowed face wore an expression

-of absolute terror now when she looked

-up.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;But where be I to live, ma&rsquo;am?&rdquo; she

-cried.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I do not know, Elizabeth; you must arrange

-that with your relations,&rdquo; said Mrs. de

-Tracy.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t &rsquo;ave but only me niece&ndash;&ndash;&rsquo;er as

-married down Exeter way.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Well, you should write to her then.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;She don&rsquo;t want to keep me, Nettie don&rsquo;t,&ndash;&ndash;she&rsquo;s

-but a poor man&rsquo;s wife, and five

-chillen she &rsquo;as; it&rsquo;s not like as if she were

-me daughter, ma&rsquo;am.&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_225' name='page_225'></a>225</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;You have some small sum of money of

-your own every year, have you not?&rdquo; Mrs.

-de Tracy asked.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Ten pound a year, ma&rsquo;am; the same that

-me &rsquo;usband left me; two &rsquo;undred pounds

-&rsquo;e &rsquo;ad saved and &rsquo;t is in an annuity; that&rsquo;s all

-I &rsquo;ave&ndash;&ndash;that and me plum tree.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;The plum tree is not yours, either, Elizabeth;

-that belongs to the land,&rdquo; said Mrs.

-de Tracy curtly.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;&rsquo;T was me &rsquo;usband planted it, ma&rsquo;am,

-years ago. We watched &rsquo;en and pruned &rsquo;en

-and tended &rsquo;en like a child we did&ndash;&ndash;an&rsquo; now

-to be told &rsquo;er ain&rsquo;t mine!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;You&rsquo;re forgetting yourself, Elizabeth, I

-think,&rdquo; said Mrs. de Tracy. It was simply

-impossible for her to see with the old woman&rsquo;s

-eyes; all she remembered was the legal fact

-that any tree planted in Stoke Revel ground

-belonged to the owner of the ground.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;But ma&rsquo;am, &rsquo;t is a big part of me living

-is the plum tree; only yesterday I says to

-the young lady&ndash;&ndash;Miss Cynthia&rsquo;s young lady&ndash;&ndash;I

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_226' name='page_226'></a>226</span>

-says, &lsquo;Dear knows how &rsquo;t would be with

-me without I had the plum tree.&rsquo;&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I cannot help that, Elizabeth: the

-plum tree is not yours, it belongs to Stoke

-Revel.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Then ma&rsquo;am, you&rsquo;ll be &rsquo;lowing me something

-for it surely?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;No,&rdquo; said Mrs. de Tracy obstinately,

-&ldquo;you have no legal claim to compensation,

-Elizabeth. I cannot undertake to allow you

-anything for what is not yours. If I did it

-in your case you know quite well I should

-have to do it in many others.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>There was a long and heavy silence. Elizabeth

-Prettyman was taking in her sentence

-of banishment from her old home; Mrs. de

-Tracy was merely wondering how long it

-would take her to walk down that nasty steep

-bit of path to the ferry. At last the old

-woman looked up.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;When must I be goin&rsquo; then, ma&rsquo;am?&rdquo;

-she asked meekly.</p>

-<p>Mrs. de Tracy considered. &ldquo;The transfer

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_227' name='page_227'></a>227</span>

-of land from one person to another generally

-takes some time: you will have several weeks

-here still; I shall send you notice later which

-day to quit.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Thank you, ma&rsquo;am,&rdquo; said Elizabeth simply,

-and added, &ldquo;The plum tree blossoms &rsquo;ul

-be over by that time.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t see what that has to do with it,&rdquo;

-said Mrs. de Tracy, in whose heart there was

-room for no sentiment.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;&rsquo;T would have been &rsquo;arder leavin&rsquo; it in

-blossom time,&rdquo; the old woman explained;

-but her hearer could not see the point. She

-rose slowly from her chair and looked around

-the cottage.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I am glad to see that you keep your

-place clean and respectable, Elizabeth,&rdquo; she

-said. &ldquo;I wish you good afternoon.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Elizabeth never rose from her chair to see

-her visitor to the door&ndash;&ndash;(an omission which

-Mrs. de Tracy was not likely to overlook)&ndash;&ndash;she

-just sat there gazing stupidly around the

-tiny kitchen and muttering a word or two

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_228' name='page_228'></a>228</span>

-now and then. At last she got up and tottered

-to the garden.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll &rsquo;ave to leave it all&ndash;&ndash;leave the old

-bench as me William did put for me with

-his own &rsquo;ands, and leave Duckie, Duckie

-can&rsquo;t never go to Exeter if I goes there,&ndash;&ndash;and

-leave the plum tree.&rdquo; She limped across

-the little bit of sunny turf, and stood under

-the white canopy of the blossoming tree,

-leaning against its slender trunk. &ldquo;Pity &rsquo;t is

-we ain&rsquo;t rooted in the ground same as the

-trees are,&rdquo; she mused. &ldquo;Then no one couldn&rsquo;t

-turn us out; only the Lord Almighty cut

-us down when our time came; Lord knows

-I&rsquo;m about ready for that now&ndash;&ndash;grave-ripe

-as you may say.&rdquo; She leaned her poor weary

-old head against the tree stem and wept,

-ready, ah! how ready, at that moment, to lay

-down the burden of her long and toilsome

-life.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Good afternoon, Nursie dear!&rdquo; a clear

-voice called out in her ear, and Elizabeth

-started to find that Robinette had tip-toed

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_229' name='page_229'></a>229</span>

-across the grass and was standing close beside

-her. She lifted her tear-stained face up

-to Robinette&rsquo;s as a child might have done.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve to quit, Missie,&rdquo; she sobbed, &ldquo;to

-leave me &rsquo;ome and Duckie and the plum

-tree, an&rsquo; I&rsquo;ve no place to go to, and naught

-but my ten pounds to live on&ndash;&ndash;and &rsquo;t won&rsquo;t

-keep me without I&rsquo;ve the plum tree, not

-when I&rsquo;ve rent to pay from it; not if I don&rsquo;t

-eat nothing but tea an&rsquo; bread never again!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>In a moment Robinette&rsquo;s arms were about

-her: her soft young cheeks pressed against

-the withered old face.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;What&rsquo;s this you&rsquo;re saying, Nurse?&rdquo;

-she cried. &ldquo;Leaving your cottage? Who

-said so?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s true, dear, quite true; &rsquo;asn&rsquo;t the

-lady &rsquo;erself been here to tell me so?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Was that what Aunt de Tracy was here

-about? I met her on the road five minutes

-ago; she said she had been here on business!

-But tell me, Nurse, why does she want

-you to leave? Are you going to get a better

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_230' name='page_230'></a>230</span>

-cottage? Does she think this one isn&rsquo;t

-healthy for you?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;No, no, dear, &rsquo;t isn&rsquo;t that, she &rsquo;ve sold

-the cottage over me &rsquo;ead, that&rsquo;s what &rsquo;t is,

-or she&rsquo;s going to sell it, to a gentleman

-from London&ndash;&ndash;Lord knows what a gentleman

-from London wants wi&rsquo; &rsquo;en&ndash;&ndash;and I&rsquo;ve

-to quit.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Robinette tried to be a peacemaker.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Then you&rsquo;ll get a much more comfortable

-house, that&rsquo;s quite certain. You know,

-though this one is lovely on fine days like

-this, that the thatch is all coming off, and

-I&rsquo;m sure it&rsquo;s damp inside! Just wait a bit,

-and see if you don&rsquo;t get some nice cosy little

-place, with a sound roof and quite dry, that

-will cure this rheumatism of yours.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>But Mrs. Prettyman shook her head.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;No, no, there won&rsquo;t be no cosy place

-given to me; I&rsquo;m no more worth than an

-old shoe now, Missie, and I&rsquo;m to be turned

-out, the lady said so &rsquo;erself; said as I must

-go to Exeter to live with me niece Nettie,

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_231' name='page_231'></a>231</span>

-and &rsquo;er don&rsquo;t want us&ndash;&ndash;Nettie don&rsquo;t&ndash;&ndash;and

-whatever shall I do without I &rsquo;ave Duckie

-and the plum tree?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Oh, but&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;Robinette began, quite incredulously,

-and the old woman took up her

-lament again.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;And I asked the lady, wouldn&rsquo;t I &rsquo;ave

-something allowed me for the plum tree&ndash;&ndash;that

-&rsquo;ave about clothed me for years back?

-And &lsquo;No,&rsquo; she says, &lsquo;&rsquo;t ain&rsquo;t your plum tree,

-Elizabeth, &rsquo;t is mine; I can&rsquo;t &rsquo;low nothing on

-me own plum tree.&rsquo;&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Robinette still refused to believe the story.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Nurse, dear,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;you&rsquo;re a tiny

-bit deaf now, you know, and perhaps you

-misunderstood about leaving. Suppose you

-keep your dear old heart easy for to-night,

-and I&rsquo;ll come down bright and early to-morrow

-and tell you what it really is! If you

-have to leave the plum tree you&rsquo;ll get a

-fine price put on it that may last you for

-years; it&rsquo;s such a splendid tree, anyone can

-see it&rsquo;s worth a good deal.&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_232' name='page_232'></a>232</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;That it be, Missie, the finest tree in

-Wittisham,&rdquo; the old woman said, drying her

-eyes, a little comforted by the assurance in

-Robinette&rsquo;s voice and manner.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;There now, we won&rsquo;t have any more

-tears: I&rsquo;ve brought a new canister of tea I

-sent for to London. I&rsquo;m just dying to taste

-if it&rsquo;s good; we&rsquo;ll brew it together, Nursie;

-I shall carry out the little table from the

-kitchen and we&rsquo;ll drink our tea under the

-plum tree,&rdquo; Robinette cried.</p>

-<p>She was carrying a great parcel under

-her arm, and when Mrs. Prettyman opened

-it, she could scarcely believe that this lovely

-red tin canister, filled with pounds of fragrant

-tea, could really be hers! The sight of

-such riches almost drove away her former

-fears. Robinette whisked into the kitchen

-and came out carrying the little round table

-which she set down under the white canopy

-of the plum tree. Then together they brought

-out the rest of the tea things, and what a

-merry meal they had!</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_233' name='page_233'></a>233</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s just nonsense and a bit of deafness

-on your part, Nurse, so we won&rsquo;t remember

-anything about leaving the house, we are

-only going to think of enjoyment,&rdquo; Robinette

-announced. Then the old woman was

-comforted, as old people are wont to be by

-the brave assurances of those younger and

-stronger than themselves, forgot the spectre

-that seemed to have risen suddenly across her

-path, and laughed and talked as she sipped

-the fragrant London tea.</p>

-<hr class='toprule' />

-<div class='chsp'>

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_234' name='page_234'></a>234</span>

-<a name='XVIII_THE_STOKE_REVEL_JEWELS' id='XVIII_THE_STOKE_REVEL_JEWELS'></a>

-<h2>XVIII</h2>

-<h3>THE STOKE REVEL JEWELS</h3>

-</div>

-<p>&ldquo;Hullo! Cousin Robin, hurry up, you&rsquo;ll

-need all your time!&rdquo; It was Carnaby of course

-who saluted Robinette thus, as she came

-towards the house on her return from Wittisham.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m not late, am I?&rdquo; she said, consulting

-her watch.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I thought you&rsquo;d be making a tremendous

-toilette; one of your killing ones to-night,&rdquo;

-Carnaby said. &ldquo;Do! I love to see you all

-dressed up till old Smeardon&rsquo;s eyes look as if

-they would drop out when you come into the

-room.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll wear my black dress, and her eyes

-may remain in her head,&rdquo; Robinette laughed.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;And what about Mark&rsquo;s eyes? Wouldn&rsquo;t

-you like them to drop out?&rdquo; the boy asked

-mischievously. &ldquo;He&rsquo;s come back by the afternoon

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_235' name='page_235'></a>235</span>

-train while you were away at Wittisham.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Oh, has he?&rdquo; Robinette said, and Carnaby

-stared so hard at her, that to her intense annoyance

-she blushed hotly.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Horrid lynx-eyed boy,&rdquo; she said to herself

-as she ran upstairs, &ldquo;He&rsquo;s growing up

-far too quickly. He needs to be snubbed.&rdquo;

-She dashed to the wardrobe, pulled out the

-black garment, and gave it a vindictive shake.

-&ldquo;Old, dowdy, unbecoming, deaconess-district-visitor-bible-woman,

-great-grand-auntly

-thing!&rdquo; she cried.</p>

-<p>Then her eye lighted on a cherished lavender

-satin. She stood for a moment deliberating,

-the black dress over her arm, her eyes

-fixed upon the lavender one that hung in the

-wardrobe.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t care,&rdquo; she cried suddenly: &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll

-wear the lavender, so here goes! Men are all

-colour blind, so he&rsquo;ll merely notice that I look

-nice. I must conceal from myself and everybody

-else how depressed I am over the interview

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_236' name='page_236'></a>236</span>

-with Nurse, and how I dread discussing

-the cottage with Aunt de Tracy. That must

-be done the first thing after dinner, or I shall

-lose what little courage I have.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Lavendar thought he had never seen her

-look so lovely as when he met her in the

-drawing room a quarter of an hour later.

-There was nothing extraordinary about the

-dress but its exquisite tint and the sheen

-of the soft satin. The suggestion that lay in

-the colour was entirely lost upon him, however:

-if asked to name it he would doubtless

-have said &ldquo;purplish.&rdquo; How he wished that he

-might have escorted her into the dining room,

-but Mrs. de Tracy was his portion as usual,

-and Robinette was waiting for Carnaby, who

-seemed unaccountably slow.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Your arm, Middy, when you are quite

-ready,&rdquo; she said to him at last. Carnaby&rsquo;s

-extraordinary unreadiness seemed to arise

-from his trying to smuggle some object up

-his sleeve. This proved, a few moments later,

-to be a bundle of lavender sticks tied with

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_237' name='page_237'></a>237</span>

-violet ribbon that he had discovered in his

-bureau drawer. He laid it by Robinette&rsquo;s

-plate with a whispered &ldquo;My compliments.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;What does your cousin want that bunch

-of lavender for, at the table?&rdquo; Mrs. de Tracy

-enquired.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;She likes lavender anywhere, ma&rsquo;am,&rdquo;

-Carnaby said with a wink on the side not

-visible by his grandmother. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s a favourite

-of hers.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Robinette could only be thankful that

-Lavendar was occupied in a <i>sotto voce</i> discussion

-of wine with Bates, and she was able

-to conceal the bundle of herbs before his eyes

-met hers, for the fury she felt against her

-precious young kinsman at that moment she

-could have expressed only by blows.</p>

-<p>Dinner seemed interminably long. Robinette,

-for more reasons than one, was preoccupied;

-Lavendar made few remarks, and

-Carnaby was possessed by a spirit of perfectly

-fiendish mischief, saying and doing everything

-that could most exasperate his grandmother,

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_238' name='page_238'></a>238</span>

-put her guests to the blush, and

-shock Miss Smeardon.</p>

-<p>But at last Mrs. de Tracy rose from the

-table, and the ladies followed her from the

-room, leaving Lavendar to cope alone with

-Carnaby.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;My fair American cousin is more than

-usually lovely to-night, eh, Mr. Lavendar?&rdquo;

-the boy said, with his laughable assumption

-of a man of the world.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;There, my young friend; that will do!

-you&rsquo;re talking altogether too much,&rdquo; said

-Lavendar, as he poured himself out a glass

-of wine and sat down by the open window to

-drink it. Carnaby, perhaps not unreasonably

-offended, lounged out of the room, and left

-the older man to his own meditations.</p>

-<p>Robinette in the meantime went into the

-drawing room with her aunt, and they sat

-down together in the dim light while Miss

-Smeardon went upstairs to write a letter.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Aunt de Tracy,&rdquo; Robinette began, &ldquo;I

-was calling on Mrs. Prettyman just after you

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_239' name='page_239'></a>239</span>

-had been with her this afternoon, and do

-you know the dear old soul had taken the

-strangest idea into her head! She says you

-are going to ask her to leave the cottage.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;The land on which her cottage stands is

-about to be sold,&rdquo; said Mrs. de Tracy. &ldquo;It

-is necessary that she should move.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Yes, she quite understood that; but she

-thinks she is not going to get another house;

-that was what was distressing her, naturally.

-Of course she hates to leave the old place,

-but I believe if she gets another nicer cottage,

-that will quite console her,&rdquo; said Robinette

-quickly.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I have no vacant cottage on the estate

-just now,&rdquo; said Mrs. de Tracy quietly.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Then what is she to do? Isn&rsquo;t it impossible

-that she should move until another

-place is made ready for her?&rdquo; Robinette

-rose and stood beside the table, leaning the tips

-of her fingers on it in an attitude of intense

-earnestness. She was trying to conceal the

-anger and dismay she felt at her aunt&rsquo;s reply.</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_240' name='page_240'></a>240</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;Mrs. Prettyman has relatives at Exeter,&rdquo;

-said Mrs. de Tracy without the quiver of an

-eyelid.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Yes; but they are poor. They aren&rsquo;t

-very near relations, and they don&rsquo;t want her.

-O Aunt de Tracy, is it necessary to make

-her leave? She depends upon the plum tree

-so! She makes twenty-five dollars a year

-from the jam!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Dollars have no significance for me,&rdquo;

-said Mrs. de Tracy with an icy smile.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Well, pounds then: five pounds she

-makes. How is she ever going to live without

-that, unless you give her the equivalent?

-It&rsquo;s half her livelihood! I promised you

-would consider it? Was I wrong?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Old bitternesses rose in Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s

-heart, the prejudices and the grudges of

-a lifetime. Everything connected with

-Robinette&rsquo;s mother had been wrong in her

-eyes, and now everything connected with

-Robinette was wrong too, and becoming

-more so with startling rapidity.</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_241' name='page_241'></a>241</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;You had no right whatsoever to make

-any promises on my behalf,&rdquo; she now said

-harshly. &ldquo;You have acted foolishly and officiously.

-This is no business of yours.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll gladly make it my business if you&rsquo;ll

-let me, Aunt de Tracy!&rdquo; pleaded Robinette.

-&ldquo;If you don&rsquo;t feel inclined to provide for Mrs.

-Prettyman, mayn&rsquo;t I? She is my mother&rsquo;s

-old nurse and she shan&rsquo;t want for anything

-as long as I have a penny to call my own!&rdquo;

-Robinette&rsquo;s eyes filled with tears, but Mrs.

-de Tracy was not a whit moved by this show

-of emotion, which appeared to her unnecessary

-and theatrical.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;You are forgetting yourself a good deal

-in your way of speaking to me on this subject,&rdquo;

-she said coldly. &ldquo;When I behaved unbecomingly

-in my youth, my mother always

-recommended me to go upstairs, shut myself

-up alone in my room, and collect my

-thoughts. The process had invariably a

-calming effect. I advise you to try it.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Robinette did not need to be proffered the

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_242' name='page_242'></a>242</span>

-hint twice. She rushed out of the room like a

-whirlwind, not looking where she went. In

-the hall, she came face to face with Lavendar,

-who had just left the dining room.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Mr. Lavendar!&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;Do go into

-the drawing room and speak to my aunt.

-Preach to her! Argue with her! Convince

-her that she can&rsquo;t and mustn&rsquo;t act in this

-way; can&rsquo;t go and turn Mrs. Prettyman out,

-and rob her of the plum tree, and leave her

-with hardly a penny in the world or a roof

-over her head!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s not a very pretty or a very pleasant

-business, Mrs. Loring, I admit,&rdquo; said Lavendar

-quietly.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Is it English law?&rdquo; cried Robinette

-with indignation. &ldquo;If it is, I call it mean

-and unjust!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Sometimes the laws seem very hard,&rdquo;

-said Lavendar. &ldquo;I&rsquo;d like to discuss this

-affair with you quietly another time.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>As he spoke, Carnaby appeared and wanted

-to be told what the matter was, but Robinette

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_243' name='page_243'></a>243</span>

-discovered that it is not very easy to criticise

-a grandmother to her youthful grandson,

-more especially when the lady in question is

-your hostess.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Aunt de Tracy and I have had a little difference

-of opinion about Mrs. Prettyman and

-her cottage, and the plum tree,&rdquo; she said to the

-boy quietly, and Lavendar nodded approval.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Prettyman&rsquo;s got the sack, hasn&rsquo;t she?&rdquo;

-Carnaby enquired with a boy&rsquo;s carelessness.</p>

-<p>Robinette looked very grave. &ldquo;My dear

-old nurse is to leave her cottage,&rdquo; she said

-with a quiver in her voice. &ldquo;She&rsquo;s to lose

-her plum tree&ndash;&ndash;&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;But of course she&rsquo;ll get compensation,&rdquo;

-cried Carnaby.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;No, Middy; she&rsquo;s to get no compensation,&rdquo;

-said Robinette in a low voice.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Well, I call that jolly hard! It&rsquo;s a beastly

-shame,&rdquo; said Carnaby, evidently pricking

-up his ears and with a sudden frown that

-changed his face. &ldquo;I say, Mark&ndash;&ndash;&rdquo; But

-Lavendar did not think the moment suitable

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_244' name='page_244'></a>244</span>

-for a discussion of Mrs. Prettyman&rsquo;s wrongs.

-Besides, he did not wish Robinette to be

-banished from the drawing room for a whole

-interminable evening. He contrived to silence

-Carnaby for the time being.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Let&rsquo;s bury the hatchet for a little while,&rdquo;

-he suggested. &ldquo;Have you forgotten, Mrs.

-Loring, that I made Mrs. de Tracy promise

-to show off the Stoke Revel jewels for your

-benefit this very night?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;O! but now I&rsquo;m in disgrace, she won&rsquo;t!&rdquo;

-said Robinette.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Yes, she will!&rdquo; said Carnaby. &ldquo;Nothing

-puts the old lady in such a heavenly

-temper as showing off the jewels. Don&rsquo;t you

-miss it, Cousin Robin! It&rsquo;s like the Tower

-of London and Madam Tussaud&rsquo;s rolled into

-one, this show, I can assure you. Come on!

-Come back into the drawing room. Needn&rsquo;t

-be afraid when Mark&rsquo;s there!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Robinette found that a black look or two

-was all that she had to fear from Mrs. de

-Tracy at present, and even these became less

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_245' name='page_245'></a>245</span>

-severe under the alchemy of Lavendar&rsquo;s tact.

-A reminder that an exhibition of the jewelry

-had been promised was graciously received.

-Bates and Benson were summoned, and

-armed with innumerable keys, they descended

-to subterranean regions where safes were

-unlocked and jewel-boxes solemnly brought

-into the drawing room. Mrs. de Tracy wore

-an air almost devotional, as she unlocked the

-final receptacles with keys never allowed to

-leave her own hands.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;If the proceedings had begun with

-prayer and ended with a hymn, it wouldn&rsquo;t

-have surprised me in the least!&rdquo; Robinette

-said to herself, looking silently on. Her silence,

-luckily for her, was taken for the

-speechlessness of awe, and did a good deal

-to make up, in the eyes of her august relative,

-for her late indiscretions. As a matter

-of fact, her irreverent thoughts were mostly

-to the effect that all but the historical pieces

-of the Stoke Revel <i>corbeille</i> would be the

-better of re-setting by Tiffany or Cartier.</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_246' name='page_246'></a>246</span></div>

-<p>Mrs. de Tracy opened an old shagreen

-case and the firelight flickered on the diamonds

-of a small tiara.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;This is a part of the famous Montmorency

-set,&rdquo; she announced proudly, with the

-tone of a Keeper of Regalia. Then she took

-out a rope of pearls ending in tassels. &ldquo;These

-belonged to Marie Antoinette,&rdquo; she said.</p>

-<p>An emerald set was next produced, and the

-emeralds, it was explained, had once adorned

-a crown. Deep green they were, encrusted

-in their diamond setting; costly, unique;

-but they left Robinette cold, though like

-most American women, she loved precious

-stones as an adornment. One of those emeralds,

-she was thinking, was worth fifty

-times more than old Lizzie Prettyman&rsquo;s cottage:

-the sale of one of them would have

-averted that other sale which was to cause

-so much distress to a poor harmless old

-woman.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;When do you wear your jewels, Aunt

-de Tracy?&rdquo; she asked gravely.</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_247' name='page_247'></a>247</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;I have not worn them since the Admiral&rsquo;s

-death,&rdquo; was the virtuous reply, &ldquo;and I have

-never called or considered them mine, Robinetta.

-They are the de Tracy jewels. When

-Carnaby takes his place as the head of the

-house, they will be his. He will see that his

-wife wears them on the proper occasions.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Carnaby&rsquo;s wife!&rdquo; thought Robinette.

-&ldquo;Why! she mayn&rsquo;t be born! He may never

-have a wife! And to think of all those precious

-stones hiding their brightness in these

-boxes like prisoners in a dungeon for years

-and years, only to be let out now and then

-by Bates and Benson, jingling their keys like

-jailers! And this house is a prison too!&rdquo; she

-said to herself; &ldquo;a prison for souls!&rdquo; and

-the thought of its hoarded wealth made her

-indignant; all this hidden treasure in a house

-where there was never enough to eat, where

-guests shivered in fireless bedrooms, where

-servants would not stay because they were

-starved! And Carnaby, too, whose youth was

-being embittered by unnecessary economies:

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_248' name='page_248'></a>248</span>

-Carnaby, who had so little pocket-money that

-he was a laughing-stock among his fellows&ndash;&ndash;it

-was for Carnaby these sacrifices were being

-made! Strange traditions! Fetiches of family

-pride almost as grotesque to her thinking as

-those of any savages under the sun.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;My poor dear Middy!&rdquo; she thought.

-&ldquo;What chance has he, brought up in an atmosphere

-like this?&rdquo; But she happened to raise

-her eyes at the moment, and to see the actual

-Carnaby of the moment, not the Carnaby her

-gloomy imagination was evoking from the

-future with the &ldquo;petty hoard of maxims

-preaching down&rdquo; his heart. He had contrived

-to get hold of the Marie Antoinette pearls

-without his grandmother&rsquo;s knowledge and

-to hang them around his neck; he had poised

-the Montmorency tiara on his own sleek

-head; he had forced a heavy bracelet by way

-of collar round Rupert&rsquo;s throat, and now

-with that choking and goggling unfortunate

-held partner-wise in his arms, he was waltzing

-on tiptoe about the farther drawing

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_249' name='page_249'></a>249</span>

-room behind the unconscious backs of Mrs.

-de Tracy and Miss Smeardon.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;He&rsquo;s only a careless boy,&rdquo; thought Robinette,

-&ldquo;a happy-go-lucky, devil-may-care,

-hare-brained youngster. They can&rsquo;t have

-poisoned his nature yet, and I&rsquo;m sure he has

-a good heart. If he were at the head of affairs

-at Stoke Revel instead of his grandmother,

-I wonder what would be done in

-the matter of my poor old nurse?&rdquo; Robinette

-stood in the doorway for a moment

-before going up to her room. Her whole attitude

-spoke depression as Carnaby stole up

-behind her.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;See here, Cousin Robin, I can&rsquo;t bear to

-have you go on like this. Don&rsquo;t take Prettyman&rsquo;s

-trouble so to heart. We&rsquo;ll do something!

-I&rsquo;ll do something myself! I have a

-happy thought.&rdquo;</p>

-<hr class='toprule' />

-<div class='chsp'>

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_250' name='page_250'></a>250</span>

-<a name='XIX_LAWYER_AND_CLIENT' id='XIX_LAWYER_AND_CLIENT'></a>

-<h2>XIX</h2>

-<h3>LAWYER AND CLIENT</h3>

-</div>

-<p>Robinette had a bad night after the

-jewel exhibition, and a heavy head and aching

-eyes prompted her to ask Little Cummins

-to bring her breakfast to her bedroom.</p>

-<p>It was touching to see that small person

-hovering over Robinette: stirring the fire,

-sweeping the hearth, looping back the curtains,

-tucking the slippers out of sight, and

-moving about the room like a mother ministering

-to an ailing child. Finally she staggered

-in with the heavy breakfast tray that

-she had carried through long halls and up

-the stairs, and put it on the table by the

-bed.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;There&rsquo;s a new-laid egg, ma&rsquo;am, that cook

-&rsquo;ad for the mistress, but I thought you

-needed it more; an&rsquo; I brewed the tea meself,

-to be sure,&rdquo; she cooed; &ldquo;an&rsquo; I&rsquo;ve spread

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_251' name='page_251'></a>251</span>

-the loaf same as you like, an&rsquo; cut the bread

-thin, an&rsquo; &rsquo;ere&rsquo;s one o&rsquo; the roses you allers

-wears to breakfast; an&rsquo; wouldn&rsquo;t your erming

-coat be a comfort, ma&rsquo;am?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Dear Little Cummins! How did you know

-I needed comfort? How did you guess I was

-homesick?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Robinette leaned her head against the

-housemaid&rsquo;s rough hand, always stained

-with black spots that would give way to no

-scrubbing. From morning to night she was

-in the coal scuttle or the grate or the saucer

-of black lead, for she did nothing but lay

-fires, light fires, feed fires, and tidy up after

-fires, for eight or nine months of the year.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;You mustn&rsquo;t touch me, ma&rsquo;am; I ain&rsquo;t

-fit; there&rsquo;s smut on me, an&rsquo; hashes, this time

-o&rsquo; day,&rdquo; said Little Cummins.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t care. I like you better with ashes

-than lots of people without. You mustn&rsquo;t

-stay in the coal scuttle all your life, Little

-Cummins; you must be my chambermaid

-some of these days when we can get a good

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_252' name='page_252'></a>252</span>

-substitute for Mrs. de Tracy. Would you

-like that, if the mistress will let you go?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Little Cummins put her apron up to her

-eyes, and from its depths came inarticulate

-bursts of gratitude and joy. Then peeping

-from it just enough to see the way to the

-door, she ran out like a hare and secluded

-herself in the empty linen-room until she

-was sufficiently herself to join the other servants.</p>

-<p>Robinette finished her breakfast and

-dressed. She had lacked courage to meet

-the family party, although she longed for

-a talk with Mark Lavendar. It was entirely

-normal, feminine, and according to all law,

-human and divine, but it appealed also to

-her sense of humour, that she should feel

-that this new man-friend could straighten

-out all the difficulties in the path. She

-waited patiently at her window until she

-saw him walk around the corner of the house,

-under the cedars, and up the twisting path,

-his head bent and bare, his hands in his

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_253' name='page_253'></a>253</span>

-pockets. Then she flung her blue cape over

-her shoulders and followed him.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Mr. Lavendar,&rdquo; she called, as she caught

-up with his slow step, &ldquo;you said you would advise

-me a little. Let us sit on this bench a

-moment and find out how we can untangle

-all the knots into which Aunt de Tracy tied

-us yesterday. I am so afraid of her that I

-am sure I spoke timidly and respectfully to

-her at first; but perhaps I showed more feeling

-at the end than I should. I am willing

-to apologize to her for any lack of courtesy,

-but I don&rsquo;t see how I can retract anything

-I said.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It is hard for you,&rdquo; Lavendar replied,

-&ldquo;because you have a natural affection for

-your mother&rsquo;s old nurse; and Mrs. de Tracy, I

-begin to believe, is more than indifferent to

-her. She has some active dislike, perhaps,

-the source of which is unknown to us.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;But she is so unjust!&rdquo; cried Robinette.

-&ldquo;I never heard of an Irish landlord in a

-novel who would practice such a piece of eviction.

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_254' name='page_254'></a>254</span>

-If I must stand by and see it done,

-then I shall assert my right to provide for

-Nurse and move her into a new dwelling.

-After you left the drawing room last night,

-I begged as tactfully as I could that Aunt de

-Tracy would sell me some of the jewels, so

-that she need not part with the land at Wittisham.

-She was very angry, and wouldn&rsquo;t hear

-of it. Then I proposed buying the plum-tree

-cottage, that it might be kept in the family,

-and she was furious at my audacity. Perhaps

-the Admiral&rsquo;s niece is <i>not</i> in the family.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;She cannot endure anything like patronage,

-or even an assumption of equality,&rdquo; said

-Lavendar. &ldquo;You must be careful there.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Should I be likely to patronize?&rdquo; asked

-Robinette reproachfully.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;No; but your acquaintance with your

-aunt is a very brief one, and she is an extraordinary

-character; hard to understand.

-You may easily stumble on a prejudice of

-hers at every step.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I shouldn&rsquo;t like to understand her any

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_255' name='page_255'></a>255</span>

-better than I do now,&rdquo; and Robinette pushed

-back her hair rebelliously.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Will you be my client for about five

-minutes?&rdquo; asked Lavendar.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Yes, willingly enough, for I see nothing

-before me but to take Nurse Prettyman and

-depart in the first steamer for America.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Mrs. Loring looked as if she were quite

-capable of this rather radical proceeding, and

-very much, too, as if any growing love for

-Lavendar that she might have, would easily

-give way under this new pressure of circumstances.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;This is the situation in a nutshell,&rdquo; said

-Lavendar, filling his pipe. &ldquo;Mrs. de Tracy is

-entirely within her legal rights when she

-asks Mrs. Prettyman to leave the cottage;

-legally right also when she declines to give

-compensation for the plum tree that has been

-a source of income; financially right moreover

-in selling cottage and land at a fancy

-price to find money for needed improvements

-on the estate.&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_256' name='page_256'></a>256</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;None of this can be denied, I allow.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;All these legal rights could have been

-softened if Mrs. de Tracy had been willing

-to soften them, but unfortunately she has

-been put on the defensive. She did not like

-it when I opposed her in the first place. She

-did not like it when my father advised her to

-make some small settlement, as he did, several

-days ago. She resented Mrs. Prettyman&rsquo;s assumption

-of owning the plum tree; she was

-outraged at your valiant espousing of your

-nurse&rsquo;s cause.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I see; we have simply made her more

-determined in her injustice.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Now it is all very well for you to show

-your mettle,&rdquo; Lavendar went on, &ldquo;for you

-to endure your aunt&rsquo;s displeasure rather

-than give up a cause you know to be just;

-but look where it lands us.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Robinette raised her troubled eyes to

-Lavendar&rsquo;s, giving a sigh to show she realized

-that her landing-place would be wherever

-the lawyer fixed it, not where she wished it.</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_257' name='page_257'></a>257</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;Go on,&rdquo; she sighed patiently.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Your legal adviser regards it as impossible

-that you should come over from America

-and quarrel with your mother&rsquo;s family;&ndash;&ndash;your

-only family, in point of fact. If this

-affair is fought to a finish you will feel like

-leaving your aunt&rsquo;s house.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I shouldn&rsquo;t have to wait for that feeling,&rdquo;

-said Robinette irrepressibly. &ldquo;Aunt de Tracy

-would have it first!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;In such an event I could and would stand

-by you, naturally.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;<i>Would</i> you?&rdquo; cried Robinette glowing

-instantly like a jewel.</p>

-<p>Lavendar looked at her in amazement.

-&ldquo;Pray what do you take me for? On whose

-side could I, should I be, my dear&ndash;&ndash;my dear

-Mrs. Loring? But to keep to business. In

-the event stated above, neither my father nor

-I could very well continue to have charge of

-the estate. That is a small matter, but increases

-the difficulties, owing to a long friendship

-dating back to the Admiral&rsquo;s time.

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_258' name='page_258'></a>258</span>

-Then we have Carnaby. Carnaby, my dear

-Mrs. Loring, belongs to you. Do you want

-to give him up? He adores you and you will

-have an unbounded influence on him, if you

-choose to exercise it.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;How can I influence Carnaby&ndash;&ndash;in America?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>This was a blow, but Lavendar made no

-sign. &ldquo;You may not always be in America,&rdquo;

-he said. &ldquo;Now why not let Mrs. de Tracy

-sell the land and cottage and plum tree in

-the ordinary course of things? Oh, how I

-wish <i>I</i> could buy the blessed thing!&rdquo; he

-exclaimed, parenthetically.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Oh! how I wish <i>I</i> could buy the plum tree,

-and keep it, always blossoming, in my morning-room!&rdquo;

-sighed Robinette.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;But unfortunately, Waller R. A. will buy

-the plum tree, confound him! Now, just

-after Mrs. de Tracy has definitely sold the

-premises and all their appurtenances, suppose

-you, in your prettiest and most docile way

-(docility not being your strong point!) ask

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_259' name='page_259'></a>259</span>

-your aunt if she has any objection to your

-taking care of Mrs. Prettyman during the

-few years remaining to her. Meantime keep

-her from irritating Mrs. de Tracy, and make

-the poor old dear happy with plans for her

-future. If you are short on docility you are

-long on making people happy!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Never did I hear such an argument! It

-would make Macduff fall into the arms of

-Macbeth; it would tranquillize the Kilkenny

-cats themselves! I&rsquo;ll run in and apologize abjectly

-to my thrice guilty aunt, then I&rsquo;ll reward

-myself by going over to Wittisham.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;If you&rsquo;ll take the ferry over, I&rsquo;d like to

-come and fetch you if I may. That shall be

-my reward.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Reward for what?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;For giving you advice very much against

-my personal inclinations. Courses of action

-founded entirely on policy do not appeal to

-me very strongly.&rdquo;</p>

-<hr class='toprule' />

-<div class='chsp'>

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_260' name='page_260'></a>260</span>

-<a name='XX_THE_NEW_HOME' id='XX_THE_NEW_HOME'></a>

-<h2>XX</h2>

-<h3>THE NEW HOME</h3>

-</div>

-<p>It was in rather a chastened spirit that

-Robinette set off to see Mrs. Prettyman.

-&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve been foolish, I&rsquo;ve been imprudent;

-oh! dear me! I&rsquo;ve still so much to learn!&rdquo;

-she sighed to herself. &ldquo;No good is ever done

-by losing one&rsquo;s temper; it only puts everything

-wrong. I shall have to try and take

-Mr. Lavendar&rsquo;s advice. I must be very prudent

-with Nurse this morning&ndash;&ndash;never show

-her that I think Aunt de Tracy is in the

-wrong; just persuade her ever so gently to

-move to another home, and arrange with her

-where it is to be.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>It is always difficult for an impetuous nature

-like Robinette&rsquo;s to hold back about anything.

-She would have liked to run straight

-into Mrs. Prettyman&rsquo;s room, and, flinging

-her arms round the old woman&rsquo;s neck, cry

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_261' name='page_261'></a>261</span>

-out to her that everything was settled. And

-instead she must come to the point gently,

-prudently, wisely, &ldquo;like other people&rdquo; as she

-said to herself.</p>

-<p>The cottage seemed very still that afternoon,

-and Robinette knocked twice before

-she heard the piping old voice cry out to her

-to come in.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Why, Nurse dear, where are you? Were

-you asleep?&rdquo; Robinette said as she entered,

-for Mrs. Prettyman was not sitting in the

-fine new chair. Then she found that the voice

-answered from the little bedroom off the

-kitchen, and that the old woman was in

-bed.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I ain&rsquo;t ill, so to speak, dear, just weary

-in me bones,&rdquo; she explained, as Robinette

-sat down beside her. &ldquo;And Mrs. Darke, me

-neighbour, she sez to me, &lsquo;You do take the

-day in bed, Mrs. Prettyman, me dear, an&rsquo; I&rsquo;ll

-do your bit of work for &rsquo;ee&rsquo;&ndash;&ndash;so &rsquo;ere I be,

-Missie, right enough.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m afraid you were worried yesterday,&rdquo;

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_262' name='page_262'></a>262</span>

-said Robinette; &ldquo;worried about leaving the

-house.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I were, Missie, I were,&rdquo; she confessed.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s why I came to-day; you must

-stop worrying, for I&rsquo;ve settled all about it.

-I spoke to my aunt last night, and it&rsquo;s true

-that you have to leave this house; but now

-I&rsquo;ve come to make arrangements with you

-about a new one.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>The old woman covered her face with

-her hands and gave a little cry that went

-straight to Robinette&rsquo;s heart.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Lor&rsquo; now, Miss, &rsquo;ow am I ever to leave

-this place where I&rsquo;ve been all these years?

-I thought yesterday as you said &rsquo;twas a mistake

-I&rsquo;d made.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;But alas, it wasn&rsquo;t altogether a mistake,&rdquo;

-Robinette had to confess sadly, her eyes filling

-with tears as she realized how she had

-only doubled her old friend&rsquo;s disappointment.

-Then she sat forward and took Mrs. Prettyman&rsquo;s

-hand in hers.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Nursie dear,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t want you

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_263' name='page_263'></a>263</span>

-to grieve about leaving the old home, for it

-isn&rsquo;t an awfully good one; the new one is

-going to be ever so much better!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s so, I&rsquo;m sure, dearie, only &rsquo;tis

-<i>new</i>,&rdquo; faltered Mrs. Prettyman. &ldquo;If you&rsquo;re

-spared to my age, Missie, you&rsquo;ll find as new

-things scare you.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Ah, but not a new house, Nursie!

-Wait till I describe it! Everything strong and

-firm about it, not shaking in the storms as

-this one does; nice bright windows to let in

-all the sunshine; so no more &lsquo;rheumatics&rsquo;

-and no more tears of pain in your dear old

-eyes!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Robinette&rsquo;s voice failed suddenly, for it

-struck her all in a moment that her glowing

-description of the new home seemed to have

-in it something prophetic. That bent little

-figure beside her, these shaking limbs and

-dim old eyes,&ndash;&ndash;all this house of life, once

-so carefully builded, was crumbling again

-into the dust, and its tenant indeed wanted

-a new one, quite, quite different! A sob

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_264' name='page_264'></a>264</span>

-rose in Robinette&rsquo;s throat, but she swallowed

-it down and went on gaily.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve settled about another thing, too;

-you&rsquo;re to have another plum tree, or life

-wouldn&rsquo;t be the same thing to you. And you

-know they can transplant quite big trees

-now-a-days and make them grow wonderfully.

-Some one was telling me all about how it is

-done only a few days ago. They dig them

-up ever so carefully, and when they put them

-into the new hole, every tiny root is spread

-out and laid in the right direction in the

-ground, and patted and coaxed in, and made

-firm, and they just catch hold on the soil in

-the twinkle of an eye. Isn&rsquo;t it marvellous?

-Well, I&rsquo;ll have a fine new tree planted for

-you so cleverly that perhaps by next year

-you&rsquo;ll be having a few plums, who knows?

-And the next year more plums! And the

-next year, jam!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;&rsquo;Twill be beautiful, sure enough,&rdquo; said

-the old woman, kindling at last under the

-description of all these joys. &ldquo;And do you

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_265' name='page_265'></a>265</span>

-think, Missie, as the new cottage will really

-be curing of me rheumatics?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Why yes, Nurse. Whoever heard of

-rheumatism in a dry new house?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;The house be new, but the rheumatics

-be old,&rdquo; said Mrs. Prettyman sagely.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Well, we can&rsquo;t make <i>you</i> entirely new,

-but we&rsquo;ll do our best. I&rsquo;m going to enquire

-about a nice cottage not very far from here;

-there&rsquo;s plenty of time before this one is sold.

-It shall be dry and warm and cosy, and you

-will feel another person in it altogether.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;These new houses be terrible dear, bain&rsquo;t

-they?&rdquo; the old woman said anxiously.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Not a bit; besides that&rsquo;s another matter

-I want to settle with you, Nursie. I&rsquo;m going

-to pay the rent always, and you&rsquo;re going to

-have a nice little girl to help you with the

-work, and there will be something paid to

-you each month, so that you won&rsquo;t have any

-anxiety.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Oh, Missie, Missie, whatever be you

-sayin&rsquo;? <i>Me</i> never to have no anxiety again!&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_266' name='page_266'></a>266</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;You never shall, if I can help it; old

-people should never have worries; that&rsquo;s

-what young people are here for, to look after

-them and keep them happy.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Mrs. Prettyman lay back on the pillow and

-gazed at Robinette incredulously; it wasn&rsquo;t

-possible that such a solution had come to

-all her troubles. For seventy odd years she

-had worked and struggled and sometimes

-very nearly starved and here was some one

-assuring her that these struggles were over

-forever, that she needn&rsquo;t work hard any

-more, or ever worry again. Could it be

-true? And all to come from Miss Cynthia&rsquo;s

-daughter!</p>

-<p>Robinette bent down and kissed the

-wrinkled old face softly.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Good-night, Nursie dear,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m

-not going to stay any longer with you to-day,

-because you&rsquo;re tired. Have a good sleep,

-and waken up strong and bright.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Good-night, Missie, good-night, dear,&rdquo;

-the old woman said. Her face had taken on

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_267' name='page_267'></a>267</span>

-an expression of such peacefulness as it had

-never worn before.</p>

-<p>She turned over on her pillow and closed

-her eyes, scarcely waiting for Robinette

-to leave the room.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve been allowed to do that, anyway,&rdquo;

-Robinette said to herself, standing in the

-doorway to look back at the quiet sleeper,

-and then looking forward to a little boat

-nearing the shore. The cottage sheltered almost

-the only object that connected her with

-her past; the boat, she felt, held all her future.</p>

-<hr class='tb' />

-<p>The river, when Lavendar rowed himself

-across it, was very quiet. &ldquo;The swelling of

-Jordan,&rdquo; as Robinette called the rising tide,

-was over; now the glassy water reflected every

-leaf and twig from the trees that hung above

-its banks and dipped into it here and there.</p>

-<p>Mooring his boat at the landing, Mark

-sauntered up to Mrs. Prettyman&rsquo;s cottage,

-and having tapped lightly at the door to let

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_268' name='page_268'></a>268</span>

-Mrs. Loring know of his arrival, as they had

-agreed he should do, he went along the

-flagged pathway into the garden, and sat

-down on the edge of the low wall that divided

-it from the river. Just in front of him was

-the little worn bench where he had first seen

-Robinette as she sat beside her old nurse

-with the tiny shoe on her lap. It was scarcely

-a fortnight ago; yet it seemed to him that he

-could hardly remember the kind of man he

-had been that afternoon; a new self, full of

-a new purpose, and at that moment of a new

-hope, had taken the place of the objectless

-being he had been before.</p>

-<p>Everything was very still; there was scarcely

-a sound from the village or from the shipping

-farther down the river. Lavendar fancied he

-heard Robinette&rsquo;s clear voice within the cottage;

-then he started suddenly and the blood

-rushed to his heart as he listened to her light

-steps coming along the paved footpath.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Here you are!&rdquo; she whispered. &ldquo;Let us

-not speak too loud, for Nurse was just dropping

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_269' name='page_269'></a>269</span>

-asleep when I left her. I&rsquo;ve put a table-cover

-and a blanket over &lsquo;Mrs. Mackenzie&rsquo; to

-keep her from quacking. Mrs. Prettyman has

-not been very well, poor dear, and is in bed.

-We&rsquo;ve just talked about the lovely new home

-she&rsquo;s going to have, and the transplanted

-plum tree; small, but warranted to bear in a

-year or two and give plums and jam like this

-one. I left her so happy!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>She stopped and looked up. &ldquo;Oh! can any

-new tree be as beautiful as this one? Was

-ever anything in the world more exquisite?

-It has just come to its hour of perfection,

-Mr. Lavendar; it couldn&rsquo;t last,&ndash;&ndash;anything

-so lovely in a passing world.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>She sat down on the low wall, and looked

-up at the tree. It stood and shone there in

-its perfect hour. Another day, and the blossoms,

-too fully blown, would begin to drift

-upon the ground with every little shaking

-wind; now it was at its zenith, a miracle of

-such white beauty that it caused the heart

-to stop and consider. Bees and butterflies

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_270' name='page_270'></a>270</span>

-hummed and flew around it; it cast a delicate

-shadow on the grass, and leaning across the

-wall it was imaged again in the river like a

-bride in her looking-glass.</p>

-<p>Robinette sat gazing at the tree, and

-Lavendar sat gazing at her. At that moment

-he &ldquo;feared his fate too much&rdquo; to break the

-silence by any question that might shatter

-his hope, as the first breeze would break the

-picture that had taken shape in the glassy

-water beneath them.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I feel in a better temper now,&rdquo; said Robinette.

-&ldquo;Who could be angry, and look at that

-beautiful thing? I&rsquo;ve left dear old Nurse

-quite happy again, and I haven&rsquo;t yet offended

-Aunt de Tracy irrevocably, and all because

-you persuaded me not to be unreasonable.

-All the same I could do it again in another

-minute if I let myself go. Doesn&rsquo;t injustice

-ever make people angry in England?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Lavendar laughed. &ldquo;It often makes me

-feel angry, but I&rsquo;ve never found that throwing

-the reins on the horses&rsquo; necks when they

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_271' name='page_271'></a>271</span>

-wanted to bolt, made one go along the right

-road any faster in the end.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I often think,&rdquo; said Robinette, &ldquo;if we

-could see people really angry and disagreeable

-before we&ndash;&ndash;&rdquo; She hesitated and added,

-&ldquo;get to know them well, we should be so

-much more careful.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Mark, bending down his head

-and speaking very deliberately, &ldquo;that&rsquo;s why

-I wish you could have seen me in all my

-worst moments. I&rsquo;d stand the shame of it,

-if you could only know, but, alas, one can&rsquo;t

-show off one&rsquo;s worst moments to order;

-they must be hit upon unexpectedly.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t believe thirty years of life would

-teach one about some people&ndash;&ndash;they are so

-<i>crevicey</i>,&rdquo; said Robinette musingly. She had

-risen and leaned against the plum tree for

-a moment, looking up through the white

-branches.</p>

-<p>Lavendar rose and stood beside her.

-&ldquo;Thirty years&ndash;&ndash;I shall be getting on to

-seventy in thirty years.&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_272' name='page_272'></a>272</span></div>

-<p>A little gust of wind shook the tree;

-some petals came drifting down upon them,

-like white moths, like flakes of summer

-snow, a warning that the brief hour of

-perfection would soon be past ... and

-under it human creatures were talking about

-thirty years!</p>

-<hr class='toprule' />

-<div class='chsp'>

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_273' name='page_273'></a>273</span>

-<a name='XXI_CARNABY_CUTS_THE_KNOT' id='XXI_CARNABY_CUTS_THE_KNOT'></a>

-<h2>XXI</h2>

-<h3>CARNABY CUTS THE KNOT</h3>

-</div>

-<p>That afternoon, Carnaby was having

-what he called &ldquo;an absolutely mouldy time,&rdquo;

-and since his leave was running out and his

-remaining afternoons were few, he considered

-himself an injured individual. Robinette

-and Lavendar seemed for ever preoccupied

-either with each other or with some

-subject of discussion, the ins and outs of

-which they had not confided to him.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s partly that blessed plum tree,&rdquo; he

-said to himself; &ldquo;but of course they&rsquo;re

-spooning too. Very likely they&rsquo;re engaged

-by this time. Didn&rsquo;t I tell her she&rsquo;d marry

-again? Well, if she must, it might as well

-be old Lavendar as anyone else. He&rsquo;s a

-decent chap, or he was, before he fell in

-love.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Carnaby sighed. This effort of generosity

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_274' name='page_274'></a>274</span>

-towards his rival made him feel peculiarly

-disconsolate. He had fished and rowed on

-the river all the morning; he had ferreted;

-he had fed Rupert with a private preparation

-of rabbits which infallibly made him

-sick, the desired result being obtained with

-almost provoking celerity. Thus even success

-had palled, and Carnaby&rsquo;s sharp and

-idle wits had begun to work on the problem

-which seemed to be occupying his elders.

-Neither Robinette nor Lavendar could expatiate

-to the boy on his grandmother&rsquo;s peculiarities,

-but Carnaby had contrived to find

-out for himself how the land lay.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Why is Waller R. A. so keen on the

-plum tree?&rdquo; he had enquired.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;He wants to make a quartette of studies,&rdquo;

-answered Lavendar. &ldquo;The Plum Tree in

-spring, summer, autumn, and winter.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;What a rotten idea!&rdquo; said Carnaby

-simply.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Far from rotten, my young friend, I

-can assure you!&rdquo; Lavendar returned. &ldquo;It

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_275' name='page_275'></a>275</span>

-will furnish coloured illustrations for countless

-summer numbers of the <i>Graphic</i> and <i>The

-Lady&rsquo;s Pictorial</i>, and fill Waller R. A.&rsquo;s

-pockets with gold, some of which will shortly

-filter in advance into the Stoke Revel banking

-account, we hope.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m not so sure about that!&rdquo; said Carnaby;

-but he said it to himself, while aloud

-he only asked with much apparent innocence,

-&ldquo;Waller R. A. wouldn&rsquo;t look at

-the cottage or the land without the plum

-tree, I suppose?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Certainly not,&rdquo; Lavendar had answered.

-&ldquo;The plum tree is safeguarded in the

-agreement as I&rsquo;m sure no plum tree ever

-was before. Waller R. A.&rsquo;s no fool!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Digesting this information and much else

-that he had gleaned, Carnaby now climbed

-to the top of a tree where he had a favourite

-perch, and did some serious and simple

-thinking.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s a beastly shame,&rdquo; he said to himself,

-&ldquo;to turn that old woman out of her

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_276' name='page_276'></a>276</span>

-cottage. Cousin Robin thinks it&rsquo;s a beastly

-shame, and what&rsquo;s more, Mark does, and

-he&rsquo;s a man, and a lawyer into the bargain.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Carnaby thought remorsefully of a pot of

-jam which old Mrs. Prettyman had given

-him once to take back to college. What

-good jam it had been, and how large the

-pot! He had never given her anything&ndash;&ndash;he

-had never a penny to bless himself with;

-and now his grandmother was taking away

-from the poor old creature all that she had.

-&ldquo;It&rsquo;s regular covetousness,&rdquo; he thought,

-&ldquo;and that infernal plum tree&rsquo;s at the bottom

-of it all. Naboth&rsquo;s vineyard is a joke in comparison,

-and What&rsquo;s-his-name and the one

-ewe lamb simply aren&rsquo;t in it.&rdquo; He grew hot

-with mortification. Then he reflected, &ldquo;If

-the plum tree weren&rsquo;t there, Waller R. A.

-wouldn&rsquo;t want the cottage, and old Mrs.

-Prettyman could live in it till the end of the

-chapter.&rdquo; A slow grin dawned upon his face,

-its most mischievous expression, the one

-which Rupert with canine sagacity had learned

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_277' name='page_277'></a>277</span>

-to dread. He felt and pinched the muscle

-of his arm fondly. (<i>Mussle</i> he always spelled

-the word himself, upon phonetic principles.)</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I may be a fool and a minor&rdquo; (generally

-spelt <i>miner</i> by him), he said, as he climbed

-down from his perch, &ldquo;but at least I can

-cut down a tree!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>He became lost to view forthwith in the

-workshops and tool-sheds attached to the

-home premises of Stoke Revel, and presently

-emerged, furnished with the object he had

-made diligent and particular search for;

-this he proceeded to carry in an inconspicuous

-way to a distant cottage where he

-knew there was a grindstone. He spent a

-happy hour with the object, the grindstone,

-and a pail of water. <i>Whirr</i>, <i>whirr</i>, <i>whirr</i>,

-sang the grindstone, now softly, now loudly&ndash;&ndash;&ldquo;<i>this

-is an axe, an axe, an axe, and a

-strong arm that holds it</i>!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;You be goin&rsquo; to do a bit of forestry on

-your own, Master Carnaby, eh?&rdquo; suggested

-the grinning owner of the grindstone.</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_278' name='page_278'></a>278</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;I am; a very particular bit, Jones!&rdquo;

-replied the young master, lovingly feeling

-the edge of the tool, which was now nearly

-as fine as that of a razor.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;You be careful, sir, as you don&rsquo;t chop

-off one of your own toes with that there

-axe,&rdquo; said the man. &ldquo;It be full heavy for

-one o&rsquo; your age. But there! you zailor-men

-be that handy! &rsquo;Tis your trade, so to

-speak!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Quite right, Jones, it is!&rdquo; replied Carnaby.

-&ldquo;Good-afternoon and thank you for

-the use of the grindstone.&rdquo; He was already

-planning where he would hide the axe, for

-he had precise ideas about everything and

-left nothing to chance.</p>

-<p>Carnaby went to bed that night at his

-usual hour. His profession had already accustomed

-him to awaking at odd intervals,

-and he had more than the ordinary boy&rsquo;s

-knowledge of moon and tide, night and dawn.

-When he slipped out of bed after a few

-hours of sound sleep, he put on a flannel

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_279' name='page_279'></a>279</span>

-shirt and trousers and a broad belt, and then,

-carrying his boots in his hand, crept out of

-his room and through the sleeping house.

-He would much rather have climbed out of

-the window, in a manner more worthy of such

-an adventure, but his return in that fashion

-might offer dangers in daylight. So he was

-content with an unfrequented garden door

-which he could leave on the latch.</p>

-<p>The moon, which had been young when

-she lighted the lovers in the mud-bank adventure,

-was now a more experienced orb and

-shed a useful light. Carnaby intended to

-cross the river in a small tub which was propelled

-by a single oar worked at the stern,

-the rower standing. This craft was intended

-for pottering about the shore; to cross the

-river in it was the dangerous feat of a skilled

-waterman, but Carnaby had a knack of his

-own with every floating thing. As he balanced

-himself in the rocking tub, bare-headed,

-bare-necked, bare-armed, paddling with the

-grace and ease of strength and training, he

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_280' name='page_280'></a>280</span>

-looked a man, but a man young with the

-youth of the gods. The moon shone in his

-keen grey eyes and made them sparkle. A

-cold sea-wind blew up the river, but he did

-not feel its chill, for blood hot with adventure

-raced in his veins.</p>

-<p>Wittisham was in profound darkness when

-he landed, and the moon having gone behind

-a bank of cloud, he had to grope his way to

-Mrs. Prettyman&rsquo;s cottage, shouldering the

-axe. The isolated position of the house alone

-made the adventure possible, he reflected;

-he could not have cut down a tree in the

-hearing of neighbours, and as to old Elizabeth

-herself, he hoped she was deaf. Most

-old women were, he reflected, except unfortunately

-his grandmother!</p>

-<p>Soon he was entering the little garden and

-sniffing the scent of blossom, which was very

-strong in the night air. He could see the

-dim outline of the plum tree, and just as he

-wanted light, the moon came out and shone

-upon its whiteness, giving a sort of spiritual

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_281' name='page_281'></a>281</span>

-beauty to the flowering thing that was very

-exquisite.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;What price, Waller R. A. now?&rdquo; thought

-Carnaby impishly. &ldquo;The plum tree in moonlight!

-eh? Wouldn&rsquo;t he give his eyes to see

-it! But he won&rsquo;t! Not if I know it!&rdquo; The

-boy was as blind to the tree&rsquo;s beauty as his

-grandmother had been, but he had scientific

-ideas how to cut it down, for he had

-watched the felling of many a tree.</p>

-<p>First, standing on a lower branch, you

-lopped off all the side shoots as high as you

-could reach. This made the trunk easy to deal

-with, and its fall less heavy, and Carnaby set

-to work.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;She goes through them all as slick as

-butter!&rdquo; he said to himself in high satisfaction.

-The axe had assumed a personality to

-him and was &ldquo;she,&rdquo; not &ldquo;it.&rdquo; &ldquo;She makes

-no more noise than a pair of scissors cutting

-flowers; not half so much!&rdquo; he said proudly.

-Branch after branch fell down and lay about

-the tree like the discarded garments of a bathing

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_282' name='page_282'></a>282</span>

-nymph. The petals fell upon Carnaby&rsquo;s

-face, upon his hair and shoulders; he was

-a white figure as he toiled. Frightened birds

-and bats flew about, but he did not notice

-them. His only care was the cottage itself

-and its inmate. If <i>she</i> should awake! But

-the little habitation, shrouded in thatch and

-deep in shadow, was dark and silent as the

-grave.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;She must be sound asleep and deaf,&rdquo;

-thought the boy. &ldquo;Yes, very deaf.&rdquo; He

-paused. The first stage in his task was accomplished.

-Shivering and naked, one absurd

-tuft of blossom and leaves at the tip&ndash;&ndash;the

-murdered tree now stood in the moonlight,

-imploring the <i>coup de gr&acirc;ce</i> which

-should end its shame.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Jolly well done,&rdquo; said the murderer complacently.

-He stretched his arms, looked at

-the palms of his hands to see if they had

-blistered, and addressed himself to the second

-part of his business. Thud! thud! went the

-axe on the trunk of the tree, and the sweat

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_283' name='page_283'></a>283</span>

-broke out all over Carnaby&rsquo;s skin, not with

-exertion but with nervous terror.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;If that doesn&rsquo;t wake the dead!&rdquo; he

-thought&ndash;&ndash;but there was no awaking in the

-cottage. Its tiny window blinked in the moonlight,

-and Carnaby thought he heard the

-drowsy quack of a duck in an out-house. But

-the danger passed. Thud! went the axe again.

-The slim severed shaft of the tree was poised

-a moment, motionless, erect before it fell.

-Then it subsided gently among its broken

-and trodden boughs, and Carnaby&rsquo;s task was

-done.</p>

-<hr class='toprule' />

-<div class='chsp'>

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_284' name='page_284'></a>284</span>

-<a name='XXII_CONSEQUENCES' id='XXII_CONSEQUENCES'></a>

-<h2>XXII</h2>

-<h3>CONSEQUENCES</h3>

-</div>

-<p>Early that morning before the sun had

-risen, when the light was still grey in the

-coming dawn, Robinette was awakened by a

-bird that called out from a tree close to her

-open window, every note like the striking

-of a golden bell. She jumped up and looked

-out, but the little singer, silenced, had flown

-away. Instead, she caught sight of a figure

-stealing across the lawn towards the side door

-which opened from the library. Even in the

-dim light she could distinguish that it was

-Carnaby, Carnaby with something in his

-hand. What he carried she could not quite

-make out, but the sleeves of his flannel shirt

-were rolled up above his elbows in a fatally

-business-like way, and he walked with an air

-of stealth.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;What mischief can that boy have been

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_285' name='page_285'></a>285</span>

-up to at this time of day?&rdquo; thought Robinette

-as she lay down again, but she was too

-sleepy to wonder long.</p>

-<p>She forgot all about it until she saw Carnaby

-at the breakfast table some hours later.

-Sometimes the gloom of that meal&ndash;&ndash;never

-a favorite or convivial one in the English

-household, and most certainly neither at

-Stoke Revel&ndash;&ndash;would be enlivened by some

-of the boy&rsquo;s pranks. He would pass over to

-the sideboard, pepper-pot slyly in hand, and

-Rupert, whose meal at this hour consisted of

-grape-nuts and cream, would unaccountably

-sneeze and snuffle over his plate.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Bless it, Bobs!&rdquo; his tormentor would

-exclaim tenderly. &ldquo;Is it catching cold? Poor

-old Kitchener! Hi! <i>Kitch!</i> <i>Kitch!</i>&rdquo; (like a

-violent sneeze) and the outraged Rupert

-would forget grape-nuts and pepper alike

-in a fit of impotent fury. But this morning

-the dog fed in peace and Carnaby never

-glanced at him or his basin. Robinette, looking

-at the boy and remembering where she

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_286' name='page_286'></a>286</span>

-had seen him last, noticed that he was rather

-silent, that his cheeks were redder than common,

-and that under his eyes were lines of

-fatigue not usually there.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;What were you doing on the lawn at

-four o&rsquo;clock this morning?&rdquo; she began, but

-checked herself, suddenly thinking that if

-Carnaby had been up to mischief she must

-not allude to it before his grandmother.</p>

-<p>No one had heard her. The meal dragged

-on. Robinette and Lavendar talked little.

-Miss Smeardon was preoccupied with the

-sufferings and the moods of Rupert. Mrs.

-de Tracy alone seemed in better spirits than

-usual; she was talkative and even balmy.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;The work at the spinney begins to-day,&rdquo;

-she observed complacently, addressing herself

-to Lavendar and alluding to the rooting

-up of an old copse and the planting of a

-new one&ndash;&ndash;an improvement she had long

-planned, though hitherto in vain. &ldquo;The

-young trees have arrived.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;But where is the money to come from?&rdquo;

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_287' name='page_287'></a>287</span>

-enquired Carnaby suddenly, in a sepulchral

-tone. (His voice was at the disagreeable

-breaking stage, an agony and a shame to

-himself and always a surprise to others.) His

-grandmother stared: the others, too, looked

-in astonishment at the boy&rsquo;s red face.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I thought it had all been explained to

-you, Carnaby,&rdquo; said Mrs. de Tracy, &ldquo;but

-you take so little interest in the estate that

-I suppose what you have been told went in

-at one ear and out at the other, as usual! It

-is the sale of land at Wittisham which makes

-these improvements possible, advantages

-drawn from a painful necessity,&rdquo; and the iron

-woman almost sighed.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;There won&rsquo;t be any sale of land at Wittisham,&ndash;&ndash;at

-least, not of Mrs. Prettyman&rsquo;s

-cottage,&rdquo; said Carnaby abruptly.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It is practically settled. The transfers

-only remain to be signed; you know that,

-Carnaby,&rdquo; said Lavendar curtly. He did not

-wish the vexed question to be raised again

-at a meal.</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_288' name='page_288'></a>288</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;It <i>was</i> practically settled&ndash;&ndash;but it&rsquo;s all

-off now,&rdquo; said the boy, looking hard at his

-grandmother. &ldquo;Waller R. A. won&rsquo;t want the

-place any more. The bloomin&rsquo; plum tree&rsquo;s

-gone&ndash;&ndash;cut down. The bargain&rsquo;s off, and

-old Mrs. Prettyman can stay on in her cottage

-as long as she likes!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>There was a freezing silence, broken only

-by the stertorous breathing of Rupert on Miss

-Smeardon&rsquo;s lap.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Repeat, please, what you have just said,

-Carnaby,&rdquo; said his grandmother with dangerous

-calmness, &ldquo;and speak distinctly.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I said that the cottage at Wittisham won&rsquo;t

-be sold because the plum tree&rsquo;s gone,&rdquo; repeated

-Carnaby doggedly. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s been cut

-down.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;How do you know?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve seen it.&rdquo; Carnaby raised his eyes.

-&ldquo;I cut it down myself,&rdquo; he added, &ldquo;this morning

-before daylight.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Who put such a thing into your head?&rdquo;

-Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s words were ice: her glance

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_289' name='page_289'></a>289</span>

-of suspicion at Robinette, like the cold thrust

-of steel. &ldquo;Who told you to cut the plum

-tree down?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;My conscience!&rdquo; was Carnaby&rsquo;s unexpected

-reply. He was as red as fire, but his

-glance did not falter. Mrs. de Tracy rose.

-Not a muscle of her face had moved.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Whatever your action has been, Carnaby,&rdquo;

-she said with dignity&ndash;&ndash;&ldquo;whether foolish and

-disgraceful, or criminal and dangerous, it

-cannot be discussed here. You will follow me

-at once to the library, and presently I may

-send for Mark. A lawyer&rsquo;s advice will probably

-be necessary,&rdquo; she added grimly.</p>

-<p>Carnaby said not a word. He opened the

-door for his grandmother and followed her

-out; but as he passed Robinette, he looked at

-her earnestly, half expecting her applause;

-for one of the motives in his boyish mind

-had certainly been to please her&ndash;&ndash;to shine

-in her eyes as the doer of bold deeds and to

-avenge her nurse&rsquo;s wrongs. And all that he

-had managed was to make her cry!</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_290' name='page_290'></a>290</span></div>

-<p>For Robinette had put her elbows on the

-table and had covered her eyes with her

-hands. As he left the room, Carnaby could

-hear her exclamation:&ndash;&ndash;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;To cut down that tree! That beautiful,

-beautiful, fruitful thing! O! how could anyone

-do it?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>So this was justice; this was all he got

-for his pains! How unaccountable women

-were!</p>

-<p>Lavendar awaited some time his summons to

-join Mrs. de Tracy and her grandson in what

-seemed to him must be a portentous interview

-enough, trying meanwhile somewhat unsuccessfully

-to console Mrs. Loring for the destruction

-of the plum tree, and exchanging

-with her somewhat awe-struck comments on

-the scene they had both just witnessed. No

-summons came, however; but half an hour

-later, he came across Carnaby alone, and

-an interview promptly ensued. He wanted to

-plumb the depth of the boy-mind and to learn

-exactly what motives had prompted Carnaby

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_291' name='page_291'></a>291</span>

-to this sudden and startling action in the

-matter of the plum tree.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Had you a bad quarter of an hour with

-your grandmother?&rdquo; was his first question.

-Carnaby, he thought, looked subdued, and

-not much wonder.</p>

-<p>The boy hesitated.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Not so bad as I expected,&rdquo; was his answer.

-&ldquo;The old lady was wonderfully decent, for

-her. She gave me a talking to, of course.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I should hope so!&rdquo; interpolated Lavendar

-drily.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;She jawed away about our poverty,&rdquo; continued

-Carnaby. &ldquo;She&rsquo;s got that on the brain,

-as you know. She said that this loss of the

-money&ndash;&ndash;Waller R. A.&rsquo;s money, she means,

-of course&ndash;&ndash;is an awful blow. She <i>said</i> it

-was, but it seemed to me&ndash;&ndash;&rdquo; Carnaby paused,

-looking extremely puzzled.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It seemed to you&ndash;&ndash;?&rdquo; prompted Lavendar

-encouragingly.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;That she wasn&rsquo;t so awfully cut up, after

-all,&rdquo; said Carnaby. &ldquo;She seemed putting it

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_292' name='page_292'></a>292</span>

-on, if you know what I mean.&rdquo; Lavendar

-pricked up his ears. Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s intense

-reluctance to sell the land recurred to him

-in a flash. To get her consent had been like

-drawing a tooth, like taking her life-blood

-drop by drop. Could it be that she was not

-very sorry after all that the scheme had

-fallen through, secretly glad, indeed? It was

-conceivable that this was Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s

-view, but her grandson&rsquo;s motive was still

-obscure.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Why did you do it, Carnaby?&rdquo; Lavendar

-asked with kindness and gravity both in

-his voice. &ldquo;You have committed a very

-mischievous action, you know, one that would

-have borne a harsher name had the transfers

-been signed and had the plum tree changed

-hands.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;But then I shouldn&rsquo;t have done it&ndash;&ndash;you&ndash;&ndash;you

-juggins, Mark!&rdquo; cried the boy.

-&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve no earthly grudge against Waller R. A.

-If he&rsquo;d actually bought the tree, it would

-have been too late, and his beastly money&ndash;&ndash;&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_293' name='page_293'></a>293</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;You need the money, you know,&rdquo; remarked

-Lavendar. &ldquo;Remember that, my

-young friend!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It would have been dirty money!&rdquo; said

-Carnaby, with a sudden flash that lit up his

-rather heavy face with a new expression.

-&ldquo;You and Cousin Robin have been jolly

-polite when you thought I was listening, but

-<i>I</i> know what you really thought, and the

-kind of things you were saying to one another

-about this business! You thought it

-beastly mean to take the cottage away from

-old Lizzie in the way it was being done, and

-sheer robbery to deprive her of the plum

-tree without paying her for it. I quite agreed

-with you there, and if I felt like that, do you

-think I could sit still and let the money come

-in to Stoke Revel&ndash;&ndash;money that had been

-got in such a way? What do you take me

-for?&rdquo; Lavendar was silent, looking at the

-boy in surprise. &ldquo;Oh,&rdquo; continued Carnaby,

-&ldquo;how I wish I were of age! Then I could

-show Cousin Robin, perhaps, what an English

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_294' name='page_294'></a>294</span>

-landlord can be! I mean that he can be

-a friend to his tenants, and kind and generous

-as well as just. As it is, Cousin Robin

-will go back to America and tell her friends

-what selfish brutes we are over here, and

-how jolly glad she was to get away!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Mrs. Loring will carry no tales, I am

-sure,&rdquo; said Lavendar. &ldquo;But tell me, my dear

-fellow, did you imagine that Mrs. Prettyman

-would be a gainer by your action?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Well, why not?&rdquo; answered the boy.

-&ldquo;Didn&rsquo;t you tell me yourself that Waller

-R. A. wouldn&rsquo;t look at the cottage without

-the tree? What&rsquo;s to prevent the old woman

-living on where she is? Do you think there&rsquo;ll

-be a rush of new tenants for that precious

-old hovel? Go on! You know better than

-that!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;But the tree, Carnaby, the plum tree!&rdquo;

-cried Lavendar. &ldquo;My young Goth, hadn&rsquo;t

-you a moment&rsquo;s compunction? That beautiful,

-flowering thing, as your cousin called it;

-could you destroy it without a pang?&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_295' name='page_295'></a>295</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;The <i>tree</i>?&rdquo; echoed Carnaby with unmeasured

-scorn. &ldquo;What&rsquo;s a tree? It&rsquo;s just

-a tree, isn&rsquo;t it?&rdquo;</p>

-<table summary=''><tr><td>

-<p class='cg'>&ldquo;A primrose by a river&rsquo;s brim<br />

-A yellow primrose was to him,<br />

-And it was nothing more!&rdquo;</p>

-</td></tr></table>

-<p>quoted Mark, despairingly.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Well; and what more did he expect of a

-primrose, whoever the Johnny was?&rdquo; asked

-the contemptuous Carnaby.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;At any rate,&rdquo; commented Lavendar, &ldquo;it

-isn&rsquo;t necessary to search as far as Peter Bell

-for an analogy for your character, my young

-friend! You are your grandmother&rsquo;s grandson

-after all!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;In some ways I suppose I can&rsquo;t help being,&rdquo;

-answered Carnaby soberly, &ldquo;but not

-in all,&rdquo; he added, and suddenly turning red

-he fumbled in his pocket and produced a coin

-which he held out to Lavendar. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s only

-ten bob,&rdquo; he said apologetically, &ldquo;and I wish

-it was a jolly sight more! But please give

-it to old Mrs. Prettyman to make up a bit

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_296' name='page_296'></a>296</span>

-for the loss of her plums. Daresay I&rsquo;ll manage

-some more by and by. Anyway, I&rsquo;ll

-make it up to her when I come of age.&ndash;&ndash;I&rsquo;m

-nearly sixteen already, you know. Be

-sure you tell her that!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>But Lavendar refused to take the money.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Mrs. Prettyman is provided for, my boy,&rdquo;

-he said. &ldquo;She has become your cousin&rsquo;s

-especial care. You need have no fear about

-that. The poor old woman is very happy and

-will have a cottage more suited for her rheumatism

-and her general feebleness than the

-present one. But I think your cousin will

-understand your motives and believe that

-you meant well by old Lizzie in your little

-piece of midnight madness.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Though I was a bit rough on the plum

-tree!&rdquo; said Carnaby, with a broad smile.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;You think it&rsquo;s a laughing matter?&rdquo;

-Lavendar asked indignantly. &ldquo;I wish you

-had my father to deal with, and Waller R. A.!

-It&rsquo;s all very well for you.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>But Carnaby only laughed. The blood was

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_297' name='page_297'></a>297</span>

-still hot in his veins, and the joy of his

-night&rsquo;s adventure. Mark told him that he

-and Mrs. Loring were crossing the river at

-once to see for themselves the extent of his

-mischief and what effect it had had upon

-old Mrs. Prettyman. Carnaby observed with

-diabolical meaning that as he had not been

-invited to join the party, he would make

-himself scarce. Gooseberries, he said, were

-very good fruit, but he wasn&rsquo;t fond of them;

-so he lounged off with his hands in his

-pockets. Suddenly he turned. &ldquo;See here, old

-Mark! You&rsquo;ll speak a word for me with

-Cousin Robin, won&rsquo;t you? It&rsquo;s hard on me

-to have her hate me when I was trying to do

-my best to please her.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;She won&rsquo;t hate you; she couldn&rsquo;t hate

-anybody,&rdquo; said Lavendar absently, watching

-first the door and then the window.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;You say that because you&rsquo;re in love with

-her! I&rsquo;ve a couple of eyes in my head,

-stupid as you all think me. You can deny it

-all you like, but you won&rsquo;t convince me!&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_298' name='page_298'></a>298</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;I shan&rsquo;t deny it, Carnaby. I am so much

-in love with her at this moment that the

-room is whirling round and round and I can

-see two of you!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Poor old Mark! Do you think she&rsquo;ll

-take you on?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Can&rsquo;t say, Carnaby!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;You&rsquo;re a lucky beggar if she does; that&rsquo;s

-my opinion!&rdquo; said the boy.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Put it as strong as you like, Carnaby,&rdquo;

-Lavendar answered. &ldquo;You can&rsquo;t exaggerate

-my feelings on that subject!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;If you hadn&rsquo;t fifteen years&rsquo; start of me

-I&rsquo;d give you a run for your money!&rdquo; exclaimed

-Carnaby with a daring look.</p>

-<hr class='toprule' />

-<div class='chsp'>

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_299' name='page_299'></a>299</span>

-<a name='XXIII_DEATH_AND_LIFE' id='XXIII_DEATH_AND_LIFE'></a>

-<h2>XXIII</h2>

-<h3>DEATH AND LIFE</h3>

-</div>

-<p>While these incidents were taking place

-at the Manor House, village life at Wittisham

-had been stirring for hours. Thin blue

-threads of smoke were rising from the other

-cottages into the windless air: only from

-Nurse Prettyman&rsquo;s there was none. Duckie

-in the out-house quacked and gabbled as she

-had quacked and gabbled since the light

-began, yet no one came to let her out and

-feed her. The halfpenny jug of milk had been

-placed on the doorstep long ago, but Mrs.

-Prettyman had not yet opened the door to

-take it in.</p>

-<p>Outside in the garden, where the plum tree

-stood yesterday, there was now only a stump,

-hacked and denuded, and round about it a

-ruin of broken branches, leaves, and scattered

-blossoms. Over the wreck the bees were busy

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_300' name='page_300'></a>300</span>

-still, taking what they could of the honey

-that remained; and in the air was the strong

-odour of juicy green wood and torn bark.</p>

-<p>The children who brought the milk were

-the first to discover what had happened, and

-very soon the news spread amongst the other

-cottagers. Then came two neighbours to the

-scene, wondering and exclaiming. They went

-to the door, but Mrs. Prettyman did not answer

-their knock or their calling. Mrs. Darke

-looked in through the tiny window.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;She be sleepin&rsquo; that peaceful in &rsquo;er bed

-in there,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;it &rsquo;ud be a shame to

-wake &rsquo;er. She&rsquo;s deaf now, and belike she

-never &rsquo;eard the tree come down, &rsquo;ooever&rsquo;s

-done it. But I&rsquo;ll go and see after Duckie:

-she&rsquo;s makin&rsquo; noise enough to rouse &rsquo;er, anyway.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Then Duckie was released and fed and departed

-to gabble her wrongs to the other

-white ducks that were preening themselves

-amongst the deep green grass of the adjacent

-orchard.</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_301' name='page_301'></a>301</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;You can &rsquo;ear that bird a mile away&ndash;&ndash;she&rsquo;s

-never done talking!&rdquo; said Mrs. Darke

-as the indignant gabble grew fainter in the

-distance. &ldquo;But &rsquo;ere&rsquo;s my old man a-come to

-look at the plum tree. Wonder what he&rsquo;ll

-say to it? This be a queer job, sure enough!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Old Darke, on two sticks, hobbled towards

-the scene of desolation with grunts of mingled

-satisfaction and dismay. &rsquo;Twas a rare sensation,

-though a pity, to be sure!</p>

-<p>Mrs. Darke stood by the well at the turn

-of the road, keeping a sharp eye on the cottage

-while she gossiped with the neighbour

-who was filling her pitcher. She did not want

-to miss the sight of Mrs. Prettyman&rsquo;s face

-when she opened her door and found out

-what had happened.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;She be sleepin&rsquo; too long; I&rsquo;ll go and

-waken her in a minute,&rdquo; said Mrs. Darke.

-&ldquo;&rsquo;Tis but right she should be told what&rsquo;s

-come to &rsquo;er tree, poor thing.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Then a beggar woman selling bootlaces

-came along the shore of the river; she

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_302' name='page_302'></a>302</span>

-mounted the cottage steps and the gossips

-watched her trailing up the pathway in her

-loose old shoes, and knocking at the door.

-She waited for a few minutes: there was no

-answer, so she turned away resignedly and

-trailed off along the sun-lit lane, in-shore,

-leaving the garden gate swinging to and

-fro.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;There&rsquo;s summat the matter!&rdquo; Mrs. Darke

-had just whispered with evident enjoyment,

-when some one else was seen approaching

-the cottage from the direction of the pier.

-It was the young lady from the Manor, this

-time. She wore a white dress and a green

-scarf, and her face was tinted with colour.

-She looked like a young blossoming tree herself,

-all lacy white and pale green, a strange

-morning vision in a work-a-day world! Robinette

-ran quickly up the pathway and knocked

-at the door, but there was no answer to her

-knock. She called out in her clear voice:&ndash;&ndash;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Good morning, Nurse! Good morning!

-Aren&rsquo;t you ready to let me in? It&rsquo;s quite

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_303' name='page_303'></a>303</span>

-late!&rdquo; But there was no answer to her

-call. She was just trying to open the door,

-which seemed to be locked, when a gentleman

-came up from the boat and followed her to

-the cottage. That, the women who were watching

-her thought quite natural, for surely such

-a young lady would be followed by a lover

-wherever she went! Indeed, Mrs. Darke said

-so.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;&rsquo;Tis in that there kind,&rdquo; she observed

-philosophically, &ldquo;like the cuckoo and the

-bird that follows; never sees one wi&rsquo;out the

-other!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;&rsquo;Tis quite that way, Mrs. Darke,&rdquo; agreed

-the neighbour, approvingly.</p>

-<p>Robinette turned a white face to Lavendar

-as he approached.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Nurse won&rsquo;t answer, and I can&rsquo;t get in!&rdquo;

-she cried. &ldquo;Something must have happened.

-I&ndash;&ndash;I&rsquo;m afraid to go in alone. The door is

-locked, too.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s not locked,&rdquo; said Lavendar, and exerting

-a little strength, he pushed it open and

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_304' name='page_304'></a>304</span>

-gave a quick glance inside. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll go in first,&rdquo;

-he said gently. &ldquo;Wait here.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>He came again to the threshold in a few

-minutes, a peculiar expression on his face

-which somehow seemed to tell Robinette

-what had happened.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Come in, Mrs. Robin,&rdquo; he said very

-gravely and gently. &ldquo;You need not be afraid.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Robinette instinctively held out her hand

-to him and they entered the little room together.</p>

-<p>She need not have feared for the old woman&rsquo;s

-distress over the ruined plum tree, for

-nothing would ever grieve Nurse Prettyman

-again. Just as she had lain down the

-night before, she lay upon her bed now, having

-passed away in her sleep. &ldquo;And they that

-encounter Death in sleep,&rdquo; says the old writer,

-&ldquo;go forth to meet him with desire.&rdquo; The

-aged face was turned slightly upwards and

-wore a look of contentment and repose that

-made life seem almost gaudy; a cheap thing

-to compare with this attainment....</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_305' name='page_305'></a>305</span></div>

-<p>Robinette came out of the cottage a little

-later, leaving the neighbours who had gathered

-in the room to their familiar and not

-uncongenial duties. She went into the garden,

-where Mark Lavendar awaited her. He

-longed to try to comfort her; indeed, his

-whole heart ran out to her in a warmth and

-passion that astounded him; but her pale

-face, stained with weeping, warned him to

-keep silence yet a little while.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I just came for one branch of the blossom,&rdquo;

-Robinette said, &ldquo;if it is not all withered.

-Yes, this is quite fresh still.&rdquo; She

-took a little spray he had found for her and

-stood holding it as she spoke. &ldquo;Only yesterday

-it was all so lovely! Oh! Mr. Lavendar,

-I needn&rsquo;t cry for my old Nurse, I&rsquo;m

-sure! How should I, after seeing her face?

-She had come to the end of her long life,

-and she was very tired, and now all that

-is forgotten, and she will never have a moment

-of vexation about her tree. I don&rsquo;t

-know why I should cry for her; but oh,

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_306' name='page_306'></a>306</span>

-how could Carnaby destroy that beautiful

-thing!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It was a genuine though mistaken act

-of conscience! You must not be too hard

-on Carnaby!&rdquo; pleaded Lavendar. &ldquo;He would

-not touch the money that was to come from

-the sale of Mrs. Prettyman&rsquo;s cottage under

-the circumstances, so it seemed best to him

-that the sale should not take place, and he

-prevented it in the directest and simplest way

-that occurred to him. It&rsquo;s like some of the

-things that men have done to please God,

-Mrs. Robin,&rdquo; Mark added, smiling, &ldquo;and

-thought they were doing it, too! But Carnaby

-only wanted to please you!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;To <i>please</i> me!&rdquo; exclaimed Robinette,

-looking round her at the ruin before them.

-&ldquo;Oh dear!&rdquo; she sighed, &ldquo;how confusing the

-world is, at times! I am just going to take

-this snowy branch and lay it on Nurse&rsquo;s pillow.

-She so loved her tree! See; it&rsquo;s quite

-fresh and beautiful, and the dew still upon it,

-just like tears!&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_307' name='page_307'></a>307</span></div>

-<p>&ldquo;That seemed just right,&rdquo; said Robinette

-softly as she came out into the sunshine again,

-a few minutes later. &ldquo;I laid the blossoms in

-her kind old tired hands, the hands that have

-known so much work and so many pains. It

-is over, and after all, her new home is better

-than any I could have found for her!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>The two walked slowly down the little

-garden on their way to the gate. As they

-passed, old Mr. Darke, who had hobbled

-around again to have another look at the

-fallen tree, addressed Lavendar solemnly.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Best tree in Wittisham &rsquo;e was, sir,&rdquo;

-touching the ruin of the branches as he

-spoke. &ldquo;&rsquo;Ooever could ha&rsquo; thought o&rsquo; sich a

-piece of wickedness as to cut &rsquo;im down?

-Murder, I calls it! &rsquo;Tis well as Mrs. Prettyman

-be gone to &rsquo;er rest wi&rsquo;out knowledge of

-it; &rsquo;twould &rsquo;ave broken her old &rsquo;eart, for

-certain sure!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It nearly breaks mine to see it now, Mr.

-Darke!&rdquo; said Robinette in a trembling voice.

-But the old labourer bent down, moving

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_308' name='page_308'></a>308</span>

-his creaking joints with difficulty and

-steadying himself upon his sticks till he

-could touch the stump of the tree with his

-rough but skilful hands. He pushed away

-the long grass that grew about the roots and

-looked up at Robinette with a wise old smile.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;&rsquo;Tisn&rsquo;t dead and done for yet, Missy,

-never fear!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Give &rsquo;im time; give

-&rsquo;im time! &rsquo;E&rsquo;s cut above the graft&ndash;&ndash;see!

-&rsquo;E&rsquo;ll grow and shoot and bear blossom and

-fruit same as ever &rsquo;e did, given time. See to

-the fine stock of &rsquo;im; firm as a rock in the

-good ground! And the roots, they be sound

-and fresh. &rsquo;E&rsquo;ll grow again, Missy; never

-you cry!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Robinette looked so beautiful as she lifted

-her luminous eyes and parted lips to old

-Darke, and then turned to him with a

-gesture of hope and joy, that again Lavendar

-could hardly keep from avowing his love;

-but the remembrance of the old nurse&rsquo;s still

-shape in the little cottage hushed the words

-that trembled on his lips.</p>

-<hr class='toprule' />

-<div class='chsp'>

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_309' name='page_309'></a>309</span>

-<a name='XXIV_GRANDMOTHER_AND_GRANDSON' id='XXIV_GRANDMOTHER_AND_GRANDSON'></a>

-<h2>XXIV</h2>

-<h3>GRANDMOTHER AND GRANDSON</h3>

-</div>

-<p>The disagreeable duty of announcing Mrs.

-Prettyman&rsquo;s death to the lady of the Manor

-now lay before Lavendar and his companion,

-and the thought of it weighed upon their

-spirits as they crossed the river. Carnaby

-also must be told. How would he take it?

-Robinette, still under the shock of the plum

-tree&rsquo;s undoing, expected perhaps some further

-exhibition of youthful callousness, but

-Lavendar knew better.</p>

-<p>In their concern and sorrow, the young

-couple had forgotten all minor matters such

-as meals, and luncheon had long been over

-when they reached the house. They could

-see Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s figure in the drawing

-room as they passed the windows, occupying

-exactly her usual seat in her usual attitude.

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_310' name='page_310'></a>310</span>

-It was her hour for reading and disapproving

-of the daily paper.</p>

-<p>Robinette and Lavendar entered quietly,

-but nothing in the gravity of their faces

-struck Mrs. de Tracy as strange.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I have a disturbing piece of news to give

-you,&rdquo; Mark began, clearing his throat.

-&ldquo;Mrs. Prettyman died last night in her cottage

-at Wittisham.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>The erect figure in the widow&rsquo;s weeds remained

-motionless. Perhaps the old hand

-that lowered the newspaper trembled somewhat,

-so that its diamonds quivered a little

-more than usual.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;So Mrs. Prettyman is dead?&rdquo; she said.

-Then, as the young people stood looking at

-her with an air of some expectancy, she

-added with a sour glance, &ldquo;Do you expect

-me to be very much agitated by the

-news?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;The death was unexpected,&rdquo; began Lavendar

-lamely.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;She was seventy-five; my age!&rdquo; said

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_311' name='page_311'></a>311</span>

-Mrs. de Tracy with a wintry smile. &ldquo;Is death

-at seventy-five so unexpected an event?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Lavendar said nothing; he had nothing to

-say, and Robinette for the same reason was

-silent. She was gazing at her aunt, almost

-unconsciously, with a wondering look. &ldquo;At

-any rate,&rdquo; continued Mrs. de Tracy, addressing

-her niece, &ldquo;your <i>prot&eacute;g&eacute;e</i> has been fortunate

-in two ways, Robinette. She will

-neither be turned out of her cottage nor

-see the destruction of her plum tree. By the

-way&ndash;&ndash;&rdquo; with a perfectly natural change of

-tone, dismissing at once both Mrs. Prettyman

-and Death&ndash;&ndash;&ldquo;the plum tree <i>is</i> down, I suppose?

-You saw it?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Very much down!&rdquo; answered Lavendar.

-&ldquo;And certainly we saw it! Carnaby does

-nothing by halves!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>A slight change, a kind of shade of softening,

-passed over Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s stern

-features, as the shadow of a summer cloud

-may pass over a rocky hill. She turned suddenly

-to Robinette. &ldquo;Can you tell me on

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_312' name='page_312'></a>312</span>

-your word of honour that you had nothing

-to do with Carnaby&rsquo;s action; that you did

-not put it into his head to cut the plum tree

-down!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I?&rdquo; exclaimed Robinette, scarlet with

-indignation. &ldquo;<i>I?</i> Why&ndash;&ndash;do you want to

-know what I think of the action? I think it

-was perfectly brutal, and the boy who did it

-next door to a criminal! There!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Mrs. de Tracy seemed convinced by the

-energy of this disclaimer. &ldquo;I have always

-considered yours a very candid character,&rdquo;

-she observed with condescension. &ldquo;I believe

-you when you say that you did not influence

-Carnaby in the matter, though I strongly

-suspected you before.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Well, upon my word!&rdquo; ejaculated Robinette

-when they had got out of the room, too

-completely baffled to be more original. &ldquo;What

-does she mean? Has any one ever understood

-the workings of Aunt de Tracy&rsquo;s mind?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t come to me for any more explanations!

-I&rsquo;ve done my best for my client!&rdquo;

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_313' name='page_313'></a>313</span>

-cried Lavendar. &ldquo;I give up my brief! I always

-told you Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s character was

-entirely singular.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Let us hope so!&rdquo; commented Robinette

-with energy. &ldquo;I should be sorry for the world

-if it were plural!&rdquo;</p>

-<hr class='tb' />

-<p>Carnaby was not in the house, and Lavendar

-proceeded to look for him out of doors.

-He knew the boy was often to be found in a

-high part of the grounds behind the garden,

-where he had some special resort of his own,

-and he went there first. The afternoon had

-clouded over, and a slight shower was falling,

-as Mark followed the wooded path leading

-up hill. A rock-garden bordered it, where

-ferns and flowers were growing, each one of

-which seemed to be contributing some special

-and delicate fragrance to the damp, warm

-air. The beech trees here had low and spreading

-branches which framed now and again

-exquisite glimpses of the river far below and

-the wooded hills beyond it.</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_314' name='page_314'></a>314</span></div>

-<p>Lavendar had not gone far when he found

-Carnaby, Carnaby intensely perturbed, walking

-up and down by himself.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;You don&rsquo;t need to tell me!&rdquo; said the

-boy, with a quick and agitated gesture of

-the hand. &ldquo;Bates told me. Old Mrs. Prettyman&rsquo;s

-dead!&rdquo; His merry, square-set face was

-changed and looked actually haggard, and

-his eyes searched Lavendar&rsquo;s with an expression

-oddly different from their usual fearless

-and straightforward one. They seemed

-afraid. &ldquo;Was it my grandmother&rsquo;s&ndash;&ndash;was it

-our fault?&rdquo; he asked. &ldquo;I, I feel like a murderer.

-Upon my soul, I do!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t encourage morbid ideas, my dear

-fellow!&rdquo; said Lavendar in a matter-of-fact

-tone. &ldquo;There&rsquo;s trouble enough in the world

-without foolish exaggeration. Mrs. Prettyman

-was &lsquo;grave-ripe,&rsquo; as she often said to

-your cousin; a very feeble old woman, whose

-time had come. The doctor&rsquo;s certificate will

-tell you how rheumatism had affected her

-heart, and the neighbours would very soon

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_315' name='page_315'></a>315</span>

-set your mind at rest by describing the number

-of times poor old Lizzie had nearly died

-before.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Think of it, though!&rdquo; said Carnaby

-with wondering eyes. &ldquo;Think of her lying

-dead in the cottage while I hacked and hewed

-at the plum tree just outside! By Jove! it

-makes a fellow feel queer!&rdquo; He shuddered.

-The picture he evoked was certainly a strange

-one enough: a strange picture in the moonlight

-of a night in spring; the doomed

-beauty of the blossoming tree, the blind,

-headstrong human energy working for its

-destruction, and Death over all, stealthy and

-strong!</p>

-<p>&ldquo;What an ass I was!&rdquo; said Carnaby,

-summing up the situation in the only language

-in which he could express himself.

-&ldquo;Sweating and stewing and hacking away&ndash;&ndash;thinking

-myself so awfully clever! And all

-the time things ... things were being arranged

-in quite a different manner!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;We are often made to feel our insignificance

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_316' name='page_316'></a>316</span>

-in ways like this,&rdquo; said Lavendar. &ldquo;We

-are very small atoms, Carnaby, in the path

-of the great forces that sweep us on.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I should rather think so!&rdquo; assented the

-wondering boy. &ldquo;And yet, can a fellow sit

-tight all the time and just wait till things

-happen?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Ask me something else!&rdquo; suggested

-Lavendar ironically.</p>

-<p>There was a short pause. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m awfully

-sorry old Mrs. Prettyman&rsquo;s dead,&rdquo; Carnaby

-said in a very subdued tone. &ldquo;I meant to

-do a lot for her, to try and make up for

-my grandmother&rsquo;s being such a beast.&rdquo; He

-stopped short, and to Lavendar&rsquo;s astonishment,

-his face worked, and two tears

-squeezed themselves out of his eyes and rolled

-over his round cheeks as they might have

-done over a baby&rsquo;s. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s the j-jam I was

-thinking of,&rdquo; he sniffed. &ldquo;Once a pal of

-mine and I were playing the fool in old Mrs.

-Prettyman&rsquo;s garden, pretending to steal the

-plums, and giving her duck bits of bread

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_317' name='page_317'></a>317</span>

-steeped in beer to make it s-squiffy (a duck

-can be just as drunk as a chap). She didn&rsquo;t

-mind a bit. She was a regular old brick, and

-gave us a jolly good tea and a pot of jam to

-take away.... And now she&rsquo;s dead and&ndash;&ndash;and....&rdquo;

-Carnaby&rsquo;s feelings became too

-much for him again, and a handkerchief

-that had seen better and much cleaner days

-came into play. Lavendar flung an arm round

-the boy&rsquo;s shoulder.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;This kind of regret comes to us all, Carnaby,&rdquo;

-he said. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t suppose there&rsquo;s a

-man with a heart in his breast who hasn&rsquo;t

-sometime had to say to himself, I might

-have done better: I might have been kinder:

-it&rsquo;s too late now! But it&rsquo;s never too late!&rdquo;

-added Lavendar under his breath&ndash;&ndash;&ldquo;not

-where Love is!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>The shower was over, and though the sun

-had not come out, a pleasant light lay upon

-the river as the friends walked down; upon

-the river beyond which old Lizzie Prettyman

-was sleeping so peacefully, the sleep of kings

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_318' name='page_318'></a>318</span>

-and beggars, and just and unjust, and rich

-and poor alike. Carnaby had dried his eyes

-but continued in a pensive mood.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Cousin Robin&rsquo;s still angry with me about

-the tree,&rdquo; he said, uncertainly.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;She won&rsquo;t be angry long!&rdquo; Lavendar

-assured him. &ldquo;You and your Cousin Robin

-are going to be firm friends, friends for

-life.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Carnaby seemed a good deal comforted.

-&ldquo;Mind you don&rsquo;t tell her I blubbered!&rdquo; he

-said in sudden alarm. &ldquo;Swear!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;She wouldn&rsquo;t think a bit the worse of

-you for that!&rdquo; said Lavendar.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Swear, though!&rdquo; repeated Carnaby in

-deadly earnest.</p>

-<p>And Lavendar swore, of course.</p>

-<hr class='tb' />

-<p>But an influence very unlike Lavendar&rsquo;s

-and a spirit very different from Robinette&rsquo;s

-enfolded Carnaby de Tracy in his home and

-fought, as it were, for his soul. That night,

-after the last lamp had been put out by the

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_319' name='page_319'></a>319</span>

-careful Bates, and after Benson had bade a

-respectful good-night to her mistress, a light

-still burned in Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s room. Presently,

-carried in her hand, it flitted out along

-the silent passages, past rows of doors which

-were closed upon empty rooms or upon unconscious

-sleepers, till it came to Carnaby&rsquo;s

-door; to the Boys&rsquo; Room, as that far-away

-and most unluxurious apartment had always

-been called. Mrs. de Tracy was making a

-pilgrimage to the shrine of one of her

-gods. She opened the door, and closing it

-gently behind her, she stood beside Carnaby&rsquo;s

-bed and looked at him, intently and haggardly.</p>

-<p>Mrs. de Tracy&rsquo;s was a singular character,

-as Mark Lavendar had said. The circumstances

-of her widowhood with its heavy responsibilities

-had perhaps hardly been fair

-to her. There had been little room for the

-kindlier and softer feelings, though it is to

-be feared that they would not have found

-much congenial soil in her heart. The personal

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_320' name='page_320'></a>320</span>

-selfishness in her had long been merged

-in the greater and harder selfishness of caste;

-she had become a mere machine for the keeping

-up of Stoke Revel.</p>

-<p>But to-night she was moved by the positively

-human sentiment which had been

-stirred in her by Carnaby&rsquo;s startling act of

-cutting the plum tree down. Ah! let fools

-believe if they could that she was angry with

-the boy! She had never felt anger less or

-pride more. While others talked and argued,

-shilly-shallied, made love, muddled and made

-mistakes, her grandson, the man of the

-race that always ruled, had cut the knot

-for himself, without hesitation and without

-compunction, without consulting anyone or

-asking anyone&rsquo;s leave. That was the way

-the de Tracys had always acted. And it

-seemed to Mrs. de Tracy a crowning coincidence,

-a fitting kind of poetical justice,

-that Carnaby&rsquo;s action should actually have

-prevented the sale of the land; that dreaded,

-detestable sale of the first land that the

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_321' name='page_321'></a>321</span>

-de Tracys had held upon the banks of the

-river.</p>

-<p>So, since Carnaby was to be a man of the

-right kind, his grandmother had come to

-look at him, not in love, as other women come

-to such bedsides, but in pride of heart. The

-boy, after his &ldquo;white night&rdquo; at Wittisham

-and the varied emotions of the succeeding

-day, lay on his side, in the deep, recuperative

-sleep of youth whence its energies are drawn

-and in which its vigors are renewed. His

-round cheek indented the pillow, his rumpled

-hair stirred in the breeze that blew in

-at the window, his arm and his open hand,

-relaxed, lay along the sheet. Another woman

-would have straightened the bed-clothes

-above him; another might have touched his

-hair or hand; another kissed his cheek. But

-not even because he was like her departed

-husband, like the man who five and fifty

-years before had courted a certain cold and

-proud, handsome and penniless Miss Augusta

-Gallup, would Mrs. de Tracy do these

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_322' name='page_322'></a>322</span>

-things. She had had her sensation, such as

-it was, her secret moment of emotion, and

-was satisfied. She left the room as she

-had come, the candle casting exaggerated

-shadows of herself upon the walls where

-Carnaby&rsquo;s bats and fishing rods and sporting

-prints hung.</p>

-<p>It is sad to be old as Mrs. de Tracy

-was old, but her age was of her own making,

-a shrinkage of the heart, a drying up

-of the wells of feeling that need not have

-been.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I should be better out of the way,&rdquo; her

-bitterness said within her, and alas! it was

-true. Her great, gaunt room seemed very

-lonely, very full of shadows when she returned

-to it. Rupert, who always slept at

-her bedside, awaited her. Disturbed at this

-unwonted hour, he stirred in his basket,

-wheezed and gurgled, turned round and

-round and could not get comfortable, whined,

-and looked up in his mistress&rsquo;s face. She stood

-watching him with a sort of grim pity, and,

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_323' name='page_323'></a>323</span>

-strangely enough, bestowed upon him the

-caress she had not found for her grandson.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Poor Rupert! You are getting too old,

-like your mistress! Your departure, like hers,

-will be a sorrow to no one!&rdquo; Rupert seemed

-to wheeze an asthmatical consent, and presently

-he snuggled down in his basket and

-went to sleep.</p>

-<hr class='toprule' />

-<div class='chsp'>

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_324' name='page_324'></a>324</span>

-<a name='XXV_THE_BELLS_OF_STOKE_REVEL' id='XXV_THE_BELLS_OF_STOKE_REVEL'></a>

-<h2>XXV</h2>

-<h3>THE BELLS OF STOKE REVEL</h3>

-</div>

-<p>On Sunday morning Robinette and Lavendar

-were both ready for church, by some

-strange coincidence, half an hour too soon.

-He was standing at the door as she came down

-into the hall. Mrs. de Tracy and Miss Smeardon

-were nowhere to be seen; even Carnaby

-was invisible, but the shrill, infuriated yelping

-of the Prince Charles from the drawing

-room indicated his whereabouts only too

-plainly.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;We&rsquo;re much too early,&rdquo; said Robinette,

-glancing at the clock.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Shall we walk through the buttercup

-meadow, then&ndash;&ndash;you and I?&rdquo; asked Lavendar.

-His voice was low, and Robinette answered

-very softly. She wore a white dress that

-morning without a touch of colour.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I couldn&rsquo;t wear black to-day for Nurse,&rdquo;

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_325' name='page_325'></a>325</span>

-she said, in answer to his glance, &ldquo;but I

-couldn&rsquo;t wear any colour, either.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;You&rsquo;re as white as the plum tree was!&rdquo;

-said Lavendar. &ldquo;I remember thinking that

-it looked like a bride.&rdquo; Robinette made no

-reply. He ventured to look up at her as he

-spoke, and she was smiling although her lip

-quivered and her eyes were full of tears.

-Lavendar&rsquo;s heart beat uncomfortably fast as

-they walked through the meadow towards

-the stile which led into the churchyard.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s too soon to go in yet,&rdquo; he said.

-&ldquo;The bells haven&rsquo;t begun.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Let&rsquo;s stop here. It&rsquo;s cool in the shadow,&rdquo;

-said Robinette. She leaned on the wall and

-looked out at the shining reaches of the river.

-&ldquo;The swelling of Jordan is over now,&rdquo; she

-said with a little smile and a sigh. &ldquo;The tide

-has come up, and how quiet everything is!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>The water mirrored the hills and the ships

-and the gracious sky above them. There was

-scarcely a sound in the air. At the point

-where they stood, the Manor House was

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_326' name='page_326'></a>326</span>

-hidden from view, and only the squat old

-tower of the church was visible, and the yew

-tree rising above the wall against the golden

-field. A bush of briar covered with white roses

-hung above them, just behind Robinette, and

-Lavendar looking at her in this English setting

-on an English Sunday morning, wondered

-to himself, as he had so often done before, if

-she could ever make this country her home.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Yet she has English blood as well as I,&rdquo;

-he thought. &ldquo;Why, the very name on the

-old bells of the church there, records the

-memory of an ancestress of hers! We cannot

-be so far apart.&rdquo; Looking at her standing

-there, he rehearsed to himself all that he

-meant to say, oh, a great many things both

-true and eloquent, but at that moment every

-word forsook him. Yet this was probably the

-best opportunity he would have of telling her

-what was burning in his heart: telling her

-how she had beguiled him at first by her

-quick understanding and her frolicsome wit,

-because all that sort of thing was so new to

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_327' name='page_327'></a>327</span>

-him. She had come like a mountain spring

-to a thirsty man. He had been groping for

-inspiration and for help: now he seemed to

-find them all in her. She was so much more

-than charming, though it was her charm that

-first impressed him; so much more than

-pretty, though her face attracted him at

-first; so much more than magnetic, though

-she drew him to her at their first meeting with

-bonds as delicate as they were strong. These

-were tangible, vital, legitimate qualities&ndash;&ndash;but

-were they all? Could lips part so, could

-eyes shine so, could voice tremble so, if there

-were not something underneath; a good

-heart, fidelity, warmth of nature?</p>

-<p>&ldquo;For the first time,&rdquo; he thought, &ldquo;I long

-to be worthy of a woman. But I would not

-tell her how I love her at this moment, unless

-I felt I need not be wholly unequal to her

-demands. I have never desired anything

-strongly enough to struggle for it, up to now;

-but she has set my springs in motion, and I

-can work for her until I die!&rdquo;</p>

-<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_328' name='page_328'></a>328</span></div>

-<p>All this he thought, but never a word

-he said. Then the church clock struck and

-the clashing bells began. They shook the air,

-the earth, the ancient stones, the very nests

-upon the trees, and sent the rooks flying

-black as ink against the yellow buttercups

-in the meadow.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;We must go, in a few minutes,&rdquo; said

-Robinette. &ldquo;Oh, will you pull me some of

-those white roses up there?&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Lavendar swung himself up and drawing

-down a bunch he pulled off two white buds.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Will you take them?&rdquo; he asked, holding

-them out to her. Then suddenly he said, very

-low and very humbly, &ldquo;Oh, take me too;

-take me, Robinette, though no man was ever

-so unworthy!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>Robinette laid the roses on the wall beside

-her.</p>

-<p>&ldquo;For my part,&rdquo; she said, turning to Lavendar

-with a little laugh that was half a sob;

-&ldquo;for my part, I like giving better than taking!&rdquo;

-She put both her hands in his and

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_329' name='page_329'></a>329</span>

-looked into his face. &ldquo;Here is my life,&rdquo; she

-said simply. &ldquo;I want to belong to you, to help

-you, to live by your side.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I oughtn&rsquo;t to take you at your word,&rdquo;

-he said, his voice choked with emotion. &ldquo;You

-are far too good for me!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;Hush,&rdquo; Robinetta answered, putting a

-finger on his lip; &ldquo;it isn&rsquo;t a question of how

-great you are or how wonderful: it&rsquo;s a question

-of what we can be to each other. I&rsquo;d

-rather have you than the Duke of Wellington

-or Marcus Aurelius, and I believe you

-wouldn&rsquo;t change me for Helen of Troy!&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;I have nothing to bring you, nothing,&rdquo;

-said Lavendar again, &ldquo;nothing but my love

-and my whole heart.&rdquo;</p>

-<p>&ldquo;If all the kingdoms of the earth were

-offered to me instead, I would still take you

-and what you give me,&rdquo; Robinette answered.</p>

-<p>Lavendar laid his cheek against her bright

-hair and sighed deeply. In that sigh there

-passed away all former things, and behold,

-<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_330' name='page_330'></a>330</span>

-all things became new. Two cuckoos answered

-each other from opposite banks of

-the river and two hearts sang songs of joy

-that met and mingled and floated upward.</p>

-<p>Again the bells broke out overhead, filling

-the air with music that had rung from them

-ever since just such another morning hundreds

-of years before, when they rang their

-first peal from the church tower, bearing the

-legend newly cut upon them: &ldquo;Pray for

-the Soul of Anne de Tracy, 1538.&rdquo; And

-Anne de Tracy&rsquo;s memory was forgotten&ndash;&ndash;so

-long forgotten&ndash;&ndash;except for the bells that

-carried her name!</p>

-<p>Yet in these same meadows that she must

-have known, spring was come once more.

-The Devonshire plum trees had budded and

-blossomed and shed their petals year after

-year, and year after year, since the bells first

-swung in the air; and now Hope was born

-once again, and Youth, and Love, which is

-immortal!</p>

-<hr class='pb' />

-<p class='tp' >The Riverside Press</p>

-<p class='tp' style='font-size:smaller;'>CAMBRIDGE&nbsp;.&nbsp;MASSACHUSETTS</p>

-<p class='tp' style='font-size:smaller;'>U&nbsp;.&nbsp;S&nbsp;.&nbsp;A</p>

-<hr class='b' />

-<hr class='d' />

-<p style='font-size:1.4em; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;'>REBECCA<br /><span style='font-size:smaller'>of SUNNYBROOK FARM</span></p>

-<hr class='s' />

-<p style='text-align:right; font-size:1.2em;  margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;'>By KATE DOUGLAS WIGGIN</p>

-<hr class='d' />

-<p>&ldquo;Of all the children of Mrs. Wiggin&rsquo;s brain, the most

-laughable and the most lovable is Rebecca.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>Life, N. Y.</i></p>

-<p>&ldquo;Rebecca creeps right into one&rsquo;s affections and stays

-there.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>Philadelphia Item.</i></p>

-<p>&ldquo;A character that is irresistible in her quaint, humorous

-originality.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>Cleveland Leader.</i></p>

-<p>&ldquo;Rebecca is as refreshing as a draught of spring

-water.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>Los Angeles Times.</i></p>

-<p>&ldquo;Rebecca has come to stay with one for all time, and

-delight one perpetually, like Marjorie Fleming.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>Literary World, Boston.</i></p>

-<hr class='s' />

-<p style='text-align:left'>With decorative cover</p>

-<p style='text-align:right'>12mo, $1.25</p>

-<hr class='d' />

-<table summary='' width='100%'>

-<tr>

-<td>

-<p class='tp'>HOUGHTON<br />MIFFLIN<br />COMPANY</p>

-</td>

-<td>

-<div style='margin:10px auto; text-align:center;'>

-<img alt='emblem' src='images/illus-emb.jpg' />

-</div>

-</td>

-<td>

-<p class='tp'>BOSTON<br />AND<br />NEW YORK</p>

-</td>

-</tr>

-</table>

-<hr class='b' />

-<hr class='d' />

-<p style='font-size:1.4em; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;'>THE SIEGE <span style='font-size:smaller;'>OF THE</span> SEVEN SUITORS</p>

-<hr class='s' />

-<p style='text-align:right; font-size:1.2em;  margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;'>By MEREDITH NICHOLSON</p>

-<hr class='d' />

-<p>&ldquo;It is not often that one comes upon so clean a farce,

-so delightful, good-humored satire.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>Chicago Evening

-Post.</i></p>

-<p>&ldquo;He has woven wit and humor and clever satire into

-this airy fantasy of twentieth century life in a way that

-should add to his literary fame.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>Indianapolis Star.</i></p>

-<p>&ldquo;For sheer cleverness of invention and sprightly wit

-this story has had no peer in recent years.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>New

-York Press.</i></p>

-<p>&ldquo;Just the sort of book which will delight those seeking

-clean, wholesome entertainment.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>Boston Globe.</i></p>

-<p>&ldquo;Meredith Nicholson&rsquo;s is a delightful book, witty, epigrammatic,

-flavorsome ... recalls Frank Stockton&rsquo;s

-bewitching foolery and perennial charm.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>Milwaukee

-Free Press.</i></p>

-<hr class='s' />

-<p style='text-align:right'>With frontispiece by C. Coles Phillips and illustrations by<br />Reginald Birch. $1.20 <i>net</i>. Postage 14 cents.</p>

-<hr class='d' />

-<table summary='' width='100%'>

-<tr>

-<td>

-<p class='tp'>HOUGHTON<br />MIFFLIN<br />COMPANY</p>

-</td>

-<td>

-<div style='margin:10px auto; text-align:center;'>

-<img alt='emblem' src='images/illus-emb.jpg' />

-</div>

-</td>

-<td>

-<p class='tp'>BOSTON<br />AND<br />NEW YORK</p>

-</td>

-</tr>

-</table>

-<hr class='b' />

-<hr class='d' />

-<p style='font-size:1.4em; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;'>A MAN&rsquo;S MAN</p>

-<hr class='s' />

-<p style='text-align:right; font-size:1.2em;  margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;'>By IAN HAY</p>

-<hr class='d' />

-<p>&ldquo;An admirable romance of adventure. It tells of the

-life of one Hughie Marrable, who, from college days to

-the time when fate relented, had no luck with women.

-The story is cleverly written and full of sprightly

-axioms.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>Philadelphia Ledger.</i></p>

-<p>&ldquo;It is a very joyous book, and the writer&rsquo;s powers of

-characterization are much out of the common.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>The

-Dial.</i></p>

-<p>&ldquo;A good, clean, straightforward bit of fiction, with

-likable people in it, and enough action to keep up the

-suspense throughout.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>Minneapolis Journal.</i></p>

-<p>&ldquo;The reader will search contemporary fiction far before

-he meets a novel which will give him the same

-frank pleasure and amusement.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>London Bookman.</i></p>

-<hr class='s' />

-<p style='text-align:right'>With frontispiece. 12mo, $1.20 <i>net</i>. Postage 10 cents.</p>

-<hr class='d' />

-<table summary='' width='100%'>

-<tr>

-<td>

-<p class='tp'>HOUGHTON<br />MIFFLIN<br />COMPANY</p>

-</td>

-<td>

-<div style='margin:10px auto; text-align:center;'>

-<img alt='emblem' src='images/illus-emb.jpg' />

-</div>

-</td>

-<td>

-<p class='tp'>BOSTON<br />AND<br />NEW YORK</p>

-</td>

-</tr>

-</table>

-<hr class='b' />

-<hr class='d' />

-<p style='font-size:1.4em; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;'>SCOTTIE AND HIS LADY</p>

-<hr class='s' />

-<p style='text-align:right; font-size:1.2em;  margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;'>By MARGARET MORSE</p>

-<hr class='d' />

-<p>&ldquo;The story of a handsome, intelligent collie dog. It

-is entertainingly and sympathetically told, and sure of

-the absorbed interest of every young lover of animals.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>Chicago

-Daily News.</i></p>

-<p>&ldquo;Instantly deserves a place with Richard Harding

-Davis&rsquo;s &lsquo;Bar Sinister,&rsquo; Alfred Ollivant&rsquo;s &lsquo;Bob, Son of

-Battle,&rsquo; and Jack London&rsquo;s &lsquo;Call of the Wild.&rsquo;&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>Boston

-Transcript.</i></p>

-<p>&ldquo;A delightful love story is woven in with the joys and

-trials of Scottie, who finds perfect satisfaction in the

-happy culmination of the romance of his lady.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>Chicago

-Record-Herald.</i></p>

-<hr class='s' />

-<p style='text-align:right'>Illustrated by H. M. Brett.<br />12mo, $1.10 <i>net</i>. Postage 11 cents.</p>

-<hr class='d' />

-<table summary='' width='100%'>

-<tr>

-<td>

-<p class='tp'>HOUGHTON<br />MIFFLIN<br />COMPANY</p>

-</td>

-<td>

-<div style='margin:10px auto; text-align:center;'>

-<img alt='emblem' src='images/illus-emb.jpg' />

-</div>

-</td>

-<td>

-<p class='tp'>BOSTON<br />AND<br />NEW YORK</p>

-</td>

-</tr>

-</table>

-<hr class='b' />

-<hr class='d' />

-<p style='font-size:1.4em; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;'>JOHN WINTERBOURNE&rsquo;S FAMILY</p>

-<hr class='s' />

-<p style='text-align:right; font-size:1.2em;  margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;'>By ALICE BROWN</p>

-<hr class='d' />

-<p>&ldquo;A delightful and unusual story. The manner in

-which the hero&rsquo;s male solitude is invaded and set right

-is amusing and eccentric enough to have been devised

-by the late Frank Stockton. It is a story that is well

-worth reading.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>New York Sun.</i></p>

-<p>&ldquo;Is to be counted among the best novels of this entertaining

-writer ... written with a skilful and delicate

-touch.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>Springfield Republican.</i></p>

-<p>&ldquo;In its literary graces, in its portrayal of characters

-that are never commonplace though genuinely human,

-and in its development of a singular social situation,

-the book is one to give delight.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>Philadelphia Press.</i></p>

-<hr class='s' />

-<p style='text-align:right'>12mo, $1.35 <i>net</i>. Postage 13 cents.</p>

-<hr class='d' />

-<table summary='' width='100%'>

-<tr>

-<td>

-<p class='tp'>HOUGHTON<br />MIFFLIN<br />COMPANY</p>

-</td>

-<td>

-<div style='margin:10px auto; text-align:center;'>

-<img alt='emblem' src='images/illus-emb.jpg' />

-</div>

-</td>

-<td>

-<p class='tp'>BOSTON<br />AND<br />NEW YORK</p>

-</td>

-</tr>

-</table>

-<hr class='b' />

-<hr class='d' />

-<p style='font-size:1.4em; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;'>THE PROFESSIONAL AUNT</p>

-<hr class='s' />

-<p style='text-align:right; font-size:1.2em;  margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;'>By MARY C. E. WEMYSS</p>

-<hr class='d' />

-<p>&ldquo;One of the most delightful stories that has ever

-crossed the water.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>Louisville Courier-Journal.</i></p>

-<p>&ldquo;The legitimate successor of &lsquo;Helen&rsquo;s Babies.&rsquo;&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>Clara Louise Burnham.</i></p>

-<p>&ldquo;A classic in the literature of childhood.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>San Francisco Chronicle.</i></p>

-<p>&ldquo;Mrs. Wemyss is a formidable rival to E. Nesbit,

-who hitherto has stood practically alone as a charmingly

-humorous interpreter of child life.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>Chicago Inter-Ocean.</i></p>

-<p>&ldquo;A charming, witty, tender book.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>Kate Douglas Wiggin.</i></p>

-<p>&ldquo;It is a sunny, warm-hearted humorous story, that

-leaves the reader with a sense of time well spent in

-its perusal.&rdquo;&ndash;&ndash;<i>Brooklyn Eagle.</i></p>

-<hr class='s' />

-<p style='text-align:right'>16mo. $1.00 <i>net</i>. Postage 10 cents.</p>

-<hr class='d' />

-<table summary='' width='100%'>

-<tr>

-<td>

-<p class='tp'>HOUGHTON<br />MIFFLIN<br />COMPANY</p>

-</td>

-<td>

-<div style='margin:10px auto; text-align:center;'>

-<img alt='emblem' src='images/illus-emb.jpg' />

-</div>

-</td>

-<td>

-<p class='tp'>BOSTON<br />AND<br />NEW YORK</p>

-</td>

-</tr>

-</table>

-

-<!-- generated by ppg.rb version: 3.15 -->

-<!-- timestamp: Fri Sep 25 17:59:47 -0400 2009 -->

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

-<pre>

-

-

-

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-</body>

-</html>

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@@ -1,6704 +0,0 @@
-The Project Gutenberg EBook of Robinetta, by

-Kate Douglas Wiggin and Mary Findlater and Jane Findlater and Allan McAulay

-

-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: Robinetta

-

-Author: Kate Douglas Wiggin

-        Mary Findlater

-        Jane Findlater

-        Allan McAulay

-

-Release Date: September 25, 2009 [EBook #30090]

-

-Language: English

-

-Character set encoding: ASCII

-

-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROBINETTA ***

-

-

-

-

-Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed

-Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

-ROBINETTA

-

-

-

-

-By Kate Douglas Wiggin

-

-ROBINETTA. Illustrated. 12mo, $1.10 net. Postage, 10 cents.

-

-REBECCA OF SUNNYBROOK FARM. Holiday Edition. Illustrated. Crown 8vo, $1.50.

-

-SUSANNA AND SUE. Illustrated by Alice Barber Stephens. Crown 8vo, $1.50

-net. Postage 15 cents.

-

-THE OLD PEABODY PEW. With decorations and illustrations. Large crown 8vo,

-$1.50.

-

-REBECCA OF SUNNYBROOK FARM. 12mo, $1.25.

-

-NEW CHRONICLES OF REBECCA. Illustrated by F. C. Yohn. 12mo, $1.25.

-

-ROSE O' THE RIVER. Illustrated in color. 12mo, 1.25.

-

-THE AFFAIR AT THE INN. Illustrated. 12mo, $1.25.

-

-THE DIARY OF A GOOSE GIRL. Illustrated. 12mo, $1.00.

-

-A CATHEDRAL COURTSHIP, AND PENELOPE'S ENGLISH EXPERIENCES. Illustrated.

-16mo, $1.00.

-

-PENELOPE'S PROGRESS. 16mo, $1.25.

-

-PENELOPE'S IRISH EXPERIENCES. 16mo, $1.25.

-

-PENELOPE'S EXPERIENCES. I. England; II. Scotland; III. Ireland; Holiday

-Edition. With many illustrations by Charles E. Brock. 3 vols., each 12mo,

-$2.00; the set, $6.00.

-

-A CATHEDRAL COURTSHIP. Holiday Edition, enlarged. Illustrated by C. E.

-Brock. 12mo, $1.50.

-

-THE BIRDS' CHRISTMAS CAROL. Illustrated. Square 12mo, 50 cents.

-

-THE STORY OF PATSY. Illustrated. Square 12mo, 60 cents.

-

-A SUMMER IN A CANYON. A California Story. Illustrated. 16mo, $1.25.

-

-TIMOTHY'S QUEST. A Story for Anybody, Young or Old, who cares to read it.

-16mo, $1.00. Holiday Edition. Illustrated. Crown 8vo, $1.50.

-

-POLLY OLIVER'S PROBLEM. Illustrated. 16mo, $1.00. In Riverside School

-Library. 60 cents, net; postpaid.

-

-THE VILLAGE WATCH-TOWER. 16mo, $1.00.

-

-MARM LISA. 16mo, $1.00.

-

-NINE LOVE SONGS, AND A CAROL. Music by Mrs. Wiggin. Words by Herrick,

-Sill, and others. Square 8vo, $1.25.

-

-HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY

-

-Boston and New York

-

-

-

-

-[Illustration]

-

-

-

-

-ROBINETTA

-

-by

-

-Kate Douglas Wiggin

-

-Mary Findlater

-

-Jane Findlater

-

-Allan McAulay

-

-BOSTON AND NEW YORK

-

-Houghton Mifflin Company

-

-The Riverside Press, Cambridge

-

-

-

-

-COPYRIGHT, 1910 AND 1911, BY KATE DOUGLAS RIGGS

-

-COPYRIGHT, 1911, BY HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY

-

-ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

-

-Published February 1911

-

-

-

-

-CONTENTS

-

-      I. THE PLUM TREE                                               1

-     II. THE MANOR HOUSE                                             7

-    III. YOUNG MRS. LORING                                          19

-     IV. A CHILLY RECEPTION                                         29

-      V. AT WITTISHAM                                               39

-     VI. MARK LAVENDAR                                              54

-    VII. A CROSS-EXAMINATION                                        69

-   VIII. SUNDAY AT STOKE REVEL                                      87

-     IX. POINTS OF VIEW                                             99

-      X. A NEW KINSMAN                                             113

-     XI. THE SANDS AT WESTON                                       127

-    XII. LOVE IN THE MUD                                           151

-   XIII. CARNABY TO THE RESCUE                                     170

-    XIV. THE EMPTY SHRINE                                          181

-     XV. "NOW LUBIN IS AWAY"                                       194

-    XVI. TWO LETTERS                                               210

-   XVII. MRS. DE TRACY CROSSES THE FERRY                           217

-  XVIII. THE STOKE REVEL JEWELS                                    234

-    XIX. LAWYER AND CLIENT                                         250

-     XX. THE NEW HOME                                              260

-    XXI. CARNABY CUTS THE KNOT                                     273

-   XXII. CONSEQUENCES                                              284

-  XXIII. DEATH AND LIFE                                            299

-   XXIV. GRANDMOTHER AND GRANDSON                                  309

-    XXV. THE BELLS OF STOKE REVEL                                  324

-

-

-

-

-ROBINETTA

-

-I

-

-THE PLUM TREE

-

-

-At Wittisham several of the little houses had crept down very close to

-the river. Mrs. Prettyman's cottage was just like a hive made for the

-habitation of some gigantic bee; its pointed roof covered with deep,

-close-cut thatch the colour of a donkey's hide. There were small

-windows under the overhanging eaves, a pathway of irregular flat

-stones ran up to the doorway, and a bit of low wall divided the tiny

-garden from the river. The Plum Tree grew just beside the wall, so

-near indeed that it could look at itself on spring days when the water

-was like a mirror. In autumn the branches on that side of the tree

-were the first to be shaken, lest any of the fruit should fall down

-and be lost. Sometimes a village child treading cautiously on bare

-toes amongst the stones along the narrow margin, would pounce upon a

-plum with a squeal of joy, for although the village was surrounded

-with orchards, the fruit of Mrs. Prettyman's tree had a flavour all

-its own.

-

-The tree had been given to her by a nephew who was a gardener in a

-great fruit orchard in the North, and her husband had planted and

-tended it for years. It began life as a slender thing with two or

-three rods of branches, that looked as if the first wind of winter

-would blow it away, but before the storms came, it had begun to

-trust itself to the new earth, and to root itself with force and

-determination. There were good soil and water near it, and plenty of

-sunshine, and, as is the way of Nature, it set itself to do its own

-business at all seasons, unlike the distracted heart of man. The

-traffic of the river came and went; around the headland the big

-ships were steering in, or going out to sea; and in the village

-the human life went on while the Plum Tree grew high enough to look

-over the wall. Its stem by that time had a firm footing; next it took

-a charming bend to the side, and then again threw out new branches

-in that direction. It turned itself from the prevailing wind, throwing

-a new grace into its attitude, and went on growing; returning in

-blossom and leaves and fruit an hundredfold for all that it received

-from the earth and the sun.

-

-In spring it was enchanting; at first, before the blossoms came out,

-with small bright leaves, and buds like pearls, heaped upon the

-branches; then, later, when the whole tree was white, imaged like a

-bride, in the looking-glass of the river. It only wanted a nightingale

-to sing in it by moonlight. There were no nightingales there, but the

-thrushes sang in the dawning, and the little birds whose voices were

-sweet and thin chirruped about it in crowds, while the larks, trilling

-out the ardour of mating time, sometimes rose from their nests in the

-grass and soared over its topmost branches on their skyward flight.

-

-Spring, therefore, was its merriest time, for then every passer-by

-would cry, "What a beautiful tree!" or "Did ye ever see the likes of

-it?"

-

-There were a few days of inevitable sadness a little later when its

-million petals fell and made a delicate carpet of snow on the ground.

-There they lay in a kind of fairy ring, as if there had been a shower

-of mother-of-pearl in the April night; and no human creature would

-have dared set a vandal foot on that magic circle, and mar the

-perfection of its beauty. All the same the Plum Tree had lost its

-petals, and that was hard to bear at first. But though its Wittisham

-neighbours often said to summer trippers, "I wish you could have seen

-it in blossom!" the Plum Tree did not repine, because of the

-secrets--the thousand, thousand secrets--it held under its leaves.

-"The blossoms were but a promise," it thought, "and soon everybody

-will see the meaning of them."

-

-Then the tiny green globes began to appear on every branch and twig;

-crowding, crowding, crowding till it seemed as if there could never be

-room for so many to grow; but the weaker ones fell from the boughs or

-were blown away when the wind was fierce, so the Plum Tree felt no

-anxiety, knowing that it was built for a large family! The little

-green globes grew and grew, and drank in sweet mother-juices, and

-swelled, and when the summer sun touched their cheeks all day they

-flushed and reddened, till when August came the tree was laden with

-purpling fruit; fruit so tempting that its rosy beauty had sometimes

-to be hidden under a veil of grey fishing net, lest the myriad

-bird-friends it had made during the summer should love it too much for

-its own good.

-

-So the Plum Tree grew and flourished, taking its part in the pageant

-of the seasons, unaware that its existence was to be interwoven with

-that of men; or that creatures of another order of being were to owe

-some changes in their fortunes to its silent obedience to the motive

-of life.

-

-

-

-

-II

-

-THE MANOR HOUSE

-

-

-The long, low drawing room of the Manor at Stoke Revel was the warmest

-and most genial room in the old Georgian house. It was four-windowed

-and faced south, and even on this morning of a chilly and backward

-spring, the tentative sunshine of April had contrived to put out the

-fire in the steel grate. One of the windows opened wide to the garden,

-and let in a scent which was less of flowers than of the promise of

-flowers--a scent of earth and green leaves, of the leafless daphne

-still a-bloom in the shrubbery, of hyacinths and daffodils and tulips

-and primroses still sheathed in their buds and awaiting a warmer air.

-

-But this promise of spring borne into the room by the wandering breeze

-from the river, was nipped, as it were, by the frigid spirit of age

-and formalism in its living occupants. Mrs. de Tracy, a lady of

-seventy-five, sat at her writing-table. Her companion, Miss Smeardon,

-a person of indeterminate age, nursed the lap-dog Rupert during such

-time as her employer was too deeply engaged to fulfil that agreeable

-duty. Mrs. de Tracy, as she wrote, was surrounded by countless

-photographs of her family and her wide connection, most prominent

-among them two--that of her husband, Admiral de Tracy, who had died

-many years ago, and that of her grandson, his successor, whose

-guardian she was, and whose minority she directed. Her eldest son, the

-father of this boy, who had died on his ship off the coast of Africa;

-his wife, dead too these many years; her other sons as well (she had

-borne four); their wives and children--grown men, fashionable women,

-beautiful children, fat babies: the likenesses of them all were around

-her, standing amid china and flowers and bric-a-brac on the crowded

-tables and what-nots of the not inharmonious and yet shabby Victorian

-room. Mrs. de Tracy, it might at a glance be seen, was no innovator,

-either in furniture, in dress, or probably in ideas. As she was

-dressed now, in the severely simple black of a widow, so she had been

-dressed when she first mourned Admiral de Tracy. The muslin ends of

-her widow's cap fell upon her shoulders, and its border rested on the

-hard lines of iron-grey hair which framed a face small, pale, aquiline

-in character and decidedly austere in expression.

-

-She took one from a docketed pile of letters and held it up under her

-glasses, the sun suddenly striking a dazzle of blue and green from the

-diamond rings on her small, withered hands. Then she read it aloud to

-her companion in an even and chilly voice. She had read it before, in

-the same way, at the same hour, several times. The letter, couched in

-an epistolary style largely dependent upon underlining, appeared to

-contain, nevertheless, some matter of moment. It was dated from Eaton

-Square, in London, some weeks before, and signed Maria Spalding. ("Her

-mother was a Gallup," Mrs. de Tracy would say, if any one asked who

-Maria Spalding was; and this was considered sufficient, for Mrs. de

-Tracy's maiden name had been Gallup,--not euphonious but nevertheless

-aristocratic.)

-

-                  *       *       *       *       *

-

-MY DEAR AUGUSTA (Maria Spalding wrote): I am going to ask you to

-help me out of a _difficulty_. There is no _use_ beating about the

-bush. You know that Cynthia's daughter Robinetta (Loring is her

-_married_ name) has been with me for a month. _American_ or no

-_American_, I meant to have had her for a part of the season, and to

-_present_ her, if possible (so _good_ for these Americans to learn

-what royalty _is_ and to breathe the atmosphere which doth hedge a

-_King_ as Shakespeare says, and which they can never _have_, of

-course, in a country like theirs). I know you can't _approve_, dear

-Augusta, and you will blame me for sentimentality--but I never

-_can_ forget what a _sweet_ creature Cynthia was before she ran away

-with that odious American--and my _greatest_ friend in girlhood, too,

-you must remember. So Robinette, as she is generally called, has

-come to my house as a _home_, but a most _unlucky_ thing has

-happened. I have had influenza so badly that it has affected my

-_heart_ (an old trouble), I am ordered to Nauheim, and Robinette is

-_stranded_, poor dear. She has few friends in London and certainly

-none who can put her up. Tho' she _is_ a widow, she is only twenty-two

-(just _imagine_!), very pretty, and really, tho' you won't believe

-it, _quite_ nice. I am _desperate_, and just wondering if you

-would let by-gones be by-gones, and receive her at Stoke Revel. She

-has set her heart upon seeing the place, and some _picture_ she

-was called after (I can't remember it, so it can't be one of the

-_famous_ Stoke Revel group--a _copy_, I fancy), and on paying a

-visit to Lizzie Prettyman, her mother's old nurse at Wittisham over

-the river. She _promised_ her mother she would do this--and such a

-promise is _sacred_, don't you think? It's such an _old_ story

-now, Cynthia's American marriage, and no fault of _Robinette's_,

-poor dear child. Her wish is almost a _pious_ one, don't you agree, to

-pay respect to her mother's memory and the family, and is _much_ to

-be encouraged in these days of radicalism, when every natural tie

-is loosened and people pay no more _respect_ to their parents than if

-they hadn't any, but had made themselves and brought themselves up

-from the beginning. So don't you think it's a _good_ thing to

-encourage the _right_ kind of feeling in Robinette, especially as

-she is an _American_, you know....

-

-                  *       *       *       *       *

-

-Mrs. de Tracy paused, and replaced the letter in the package from

-which she had withdrawn it.

-

-"Maria Spalding's point of view," she observed, "has, I confess,

-helped me to overcome the extreme reluctance I felt to receive the

-child of that American here. Cynthia de Tracy's elopement nearly broke

-my dear husband's heart. She was the apple of his eye before our

-marriage; so much younger than himself that she was like his child

-rather than his sister."

-

-"What a shock it must have been!" murmured the companion. "What

-ingratitude! Can you really receive her child? Of course you know

-best, Mrs. de Tracy; but it seems a risk."

-

-"Hardly a risk," rejoined Mrs. de Tracy with dignity. "But it is a

-trial to me, and an effort that I scarcely feel called upon to make."

-

-Miss Smeardon was so well versed in her duties that she knew she

-always had to urge her employer to do exactly what she most wanted to

-do, and the poor creature had developed a really wonderful ingenuity

-in divining what these wishes were. Just now, however, she was, to use

-a sporting phrase, "at fault" for a minute. She could not exactly

-tell whether Mrs. de Tracy wanted to be urged to ask her niece to

-Stoke Revel, or whether she wanted to be supplied with a really

-plausible excuse for not doing so. Those of you who have seen a hound

-at fault can imagine the companion at this moment: irresolute, tense,

-desperately anxious to find and follow up the right scent. Compromise,

-that useful refuge, came to her aid.

-

-"It _is_ difficult to know," she faltered. Then Mrs. de Tracy gave her

-the lead.

-

-"Maria Spalding is right when she says that my husband's niece

-contemplates a duty in visiting Stoke Revel," she announced. "The

-young woman is the lawful daughter of Cynthia de Tracy that was: our

-solicitors could never discover anything dubious in the marriage,

-though we long suspected it. Therefore, though I never could have

-invited her here, I admit that the Admiral's niece has a right to

-come, in a way."

-

-"Though her maiden name was Bean!" ejaculated the companion, almost

-under her breath. "There are Pease in the North, as everyone knows;

-perhaps there are Beans somewhere."

-

-"There have never been Beans," said Mrs. de Tracy solemnly and totally

-unconscious of a pun. "Look for yourself!"

-

-Miss Smeardon did not need to rise from her seat and fetch Burke: it

-lay always close at hand. She merely lifted it on to her knee and ran

-her finger down the names beginning with B-e-a.

-

-"Beaton, Beare, Beatty, Beale--" she read out, and she shook her head

-in dismal triumph; "but never a Bean! No! we English have no such

-dreadful names, thank Heavens!"

-

-"This is the beginning of April," pursued Mrs. de Tracy, referring to

-a date-card. "Maria Spalding's course at Nauheim will take three

-weeks. We must allow her a week for going and coming. During that time

-Mrs. David Loring can be my guest."

-

-"A whole month!" cried the companion, as though in ecstasy at her

-employer's generosity. "A whole month at Stoke Revel!"

-

-Mrs. de Tracy took no notice. "Write in my name to Maria Spalding,

-please," she commanded. "Be sure that there is no mistake about dates.

-Mention the departure and arrival of trains, and say that Mrs. David

-Loring will find a fly at the station. That is all, I think."

-

-The companion bent officiously forward. "You remember, of course, that

-young Mr. Lavendar comes down next week upon business?"

-

-"Well, what if he does?" asked Mrs. de Tracy shortly.

-

-"Mrs. David Loring is a widow," murmured the companion darkly; "a

-young American widow; and they are said to be so dangerous!"

-

-Mrs. de Tracy drew herself up. "Do you insinuate that the Admiral's

-niece will lay herself out to attract Mr. Lavendar, a widow in the

-house of a widow! You go rather too far, Miss Smeardon, though you are

-speaking of an American. Besides, allusions of this character are

-extremely distasteful to me. I have been told that the minds of

-unmarried women are always running upon love affairs, but I should

-hardly have thought it of you."

-

-"I'm sure I never imagined any about myself!" murmured Miss Smeardon

-with the pitiable writhe of the trodden-on worm.

-

-"I should suppose not," rejoined Mrs. de Tracy gravely, and the

-companion took up her pen obediently to write to Maria Spalding.

-

-"Shall I send your love to the Admiral's niece?" she humbly enquired,

-"or--or something of the kind?" There was irony in the last phrase,

-but it was quite unconscious.

-

-"Not my love," replied Mrs. de Tracy, "some suitable message. Make no

-mistake about the dates, remember."

-

-Thus a letter containing dates, and though not love, the substitute

-described by Miss Smeardon as "something of the kind" for an unwanted

-niece from an unknown aunt, left Stoke Revel by the afternoon post and

-reached Robinette Loring at breakfast next morning.

-

-

-

-

-III

-

-YOUNG MRS. LORING

-

-

-Young Mrs. Loring thought she had never taken so long a drive as that

-from the Weston railway station to Stoke Revel. The way stretched

-through narrow winding roads, always up hill, always between high

-Devonshire hedges. The rain-soaked lanes were slippery and she was

-unpleasantly conscious of the size and weight of the American wardrobe

-trunk that reared its mighty frame in front of her almost to the

-blotting-out of the driver, who steadied it with one hand as he plied

-the whip with the other. It struck her humorously that the trunk was

-larger than most of the cottages they were passing.

-

-It was a late spring that year in England,--Robinette was a new-comer

-and did not know that England runs to late and wet springs, believing

-that they make more conversation than early, fine ones,--and the

-trees were just bursting into leaf. The sun had not shone for three

-days and the landscape, for all its beautiful greenness, looked gloomy

-to an eye accustomed to a good deal of crude sunshine.

-

-As the horse mounted higher and higher Robinette glanced out of the

-windows at the dripping boughs and her face lost something of its

-sparkle of anticipation. She had little to expect in the way of a warm

-welcome, she knew that; or at least her mind knew it, but Robinette's

-heart always expected surprises, although she had lived two and twenty

-summers and was a widow at that.

-

-Her mother had been a de Tracy of Stoke Revel whose connection with

-that ancient family had ceased abruptly when she met an American

-architect while traveling on the Continent, married him out of hand

-and went to his native New England with him. The de Tracys had no

-opinion of America, its government, its institutions, its customs, or

-its people, and when they learned that Cynthia de Tracy had not only

-allied herself with this undesirable nation, but had selected a native

-by the name of Harold Bean, they regarded the incident of the marriage

-as closed.

-

-The union had been a happy one, though the de Tracys of Stoke Revel

-had always regarded the unfortunately named architect more as a

-vegetable than a human being; and the daughter of the marriage was the

-young Mrs. Loring now driving in the station fly to the home of her

-mother's people.

-

-Her father had died when she was fifteen and her mother followed three

-years after, leaving her with a respectable fortune but no relations;

-the entire family (happily, Mrs. de Tracy would have said) having died

-out with Harold. Robinette was unspeakably lonely, even with her

-hundred friends, for there was enough English blood in her to make her

-cry out inwardly for kith and kin, for family ties, for all the dear

-familiar backgrounds of hearth and home. Had a welcoming hand been

-stretched across the sea she would have flown at once to make

-acquaintance with the de Tracys, cold and indifferent as they had

-always been, but no bidding ever came, and the picture of the Manor

-House of Stoke Revel on her dressing-table was the only reminder of

-her connection with that ancient and honourable house.

-

-It is not difficult to see, under the circumstances, how the

-nineteen-year-old Robinette became the wife of the first man in whom

-she inspired a serious passion.

-

-It is incredible that women should confuse the passive process of

-being loved with the active process of loving, but it occurs

-nevertheless, and Robinette drifted into marriage with the vaguest

-possible notions of what it meant; feeling and knowing that she needed

-something, and supposing it must be a husband. It was better fortune,

-perhaps, than she merited, and equally kind for both parties, that her

-husband died before either of them realized the tragic mistake. David

-Loring was too absorbed in his own emotions to note the absence of

-full response on the part of his wife; Robinette was too much a child

-and too inexperienced to be conscious of her own lack of feeling.

-

-It was death, not life, that opened her eyes. When David Loring lay in

-his coffin, Robinette's heart was suddenly seized with growing pains.

-Her vision widened; words and promises took on a new and larger

-meaning, and she became a serious woman for her years, although there

-was an ineradicable gaiety of spirit in her that needed only sunshine

-to make it the dominant note of her nature.

-

-At the moment, Robinette, in the station fly on her way to Stoke

-Revel, was only in the making, although she herself considered her

-life as practically finished. The past and the present were moulding

-her into something that only the future could determine. Sometimes

-April, sometimes July, sometimes witch, sometimes woman; impetuous,

-intrepid, romantic, tempestuous, illogical,--these were but the

-elements of which the coming years of experience had yet to shape a

-character. Young Mrs. Loring had plenty of briars, but she had good

-roots and in favorable soil would be certain to bear roses.

-

-But in the immediate present, the fly with the immense American

-wardrobe trunk beside the driver, turned into the avenue of Stoke

-Revel, and Mrs. David Loring bestowed upon herself those little

-feminine attentions which precede arrival--pattings of the hair behind

-the ears, twitches of the veil, and pullings down about the waist and

-sleeves. A little toy of a purse made of golden chainwork, hanging

-from her wrist, was searched for the driver's fare, and it had hardly

-snapped to again when the fly drew up before the entrance to the

-house. How interesting it looked! Robinette put her head out of the

-carriage window and gazed up at the long row of windows, the old

-weather-coloured stones, and the carved front of the building. Here

-was a house where things might happen, she thought, and her young

-heart gave a sudden bound of anticipation.

-

-But the door was shut, alas! and a blank feeling came over Robinette

-as she looked at it. Some one perhaps would come out and welcome

-her, she thought for a brief moment, but only the butler appeared,

-who, with the formal announcement of her name, ushered her into a

-long, low room with a row of windows on one side and a pleasant

-old-fashioned look of comfort and habitation. She caught a glimpse

-of a tea-table with a steaming urn upon it, heard the furious barking

-of a little dog, saw that there were two figures in the room and

-moved instinctively towards the one beside the window, the figure in

-weeds, neither very tall nor very imposing, yet somehow formidable.

-

-"How do you do?" said an icy voice, and a chill hand held hers for a

-moment, but did not press it. The colour in Robinette's cheeks paled

-and then rushed back, as she drew herself up unconsciously.

-

-"I am very well, thank you, Aunt de Tracy," she answered with

-commendable composure.

-

-"This is my friend and companion, Miss Smeardon," continued Mrs. de

-Tracy, advancing to the tea-table where that useful personage

-officiated. "Mrs. David Loring--Miss Smeardon." Miss Smeardon had the

-dog upon her lap, yapping, clashing his teeth together, and obviously

-thirsting for the visitor's blood. He was quieted with soothing words,

-and Robinette seated herself innocently in the nearest chair, beside

-the table.

-

-"Excuse me!" the companion said with a slight cough; "Mrs. de Tracy's

-chair! Do you mind taking another?" There was something disagreeable

-in her voice, and in Mrs. de Tracy's deliberate scrutiny something so

-nearly insulting that a childish impulse to cry then and there

-suddenly seized upon Robinette. This was her mother's home--and no

-kiss had welcomed her to it, no kind word! There were perfunctory

-questions about her journey, references to the coldness and lateness

-of the spring, enquiries after the health of Maria Spalding (whose

-mother was a Gallup), but no claiming of kinship, no naming of her

-mother's name nor of her native country! Robinette's ardent spirit had

-felt sorrow, but it had never met rebuff nor known injustice, and the

-sudden stir of revolt at her heart was painful with an almost physical

-pain.

-

-After a long drawn hour of this social torture, Mrs. de Tracy rang,

-and a hard-featured elderly maid appeared.

-

-"Show Mrs. Loring to her room, Benson," said the mistress of the

-house, "and help her to unpack."

-

-Robinette followed her conductor upstairs with a sinking heart. Oh!

-but the chill of this English spring was in her bones, and the

-coldness of a reception so frigid that her passionate young spirit

-almost rebelled on the spot, prompting wild ideas and impulsive

-impossibilities; even a flight to her mother's old nurse--to Lizzie

-Prettyman, so often lovingly described, with her little thatched

-cottage beyond the river! Surely she would find the welcome there that

-was lacking here, and the touch of human kindness that one craved in a

-foreign land. But no! Robinette called to her aid her strong American

-common sense and the "grit" that her countrymen admire. Was she to

-confess herself routed in the very first onset--the very first attempt

-in storming the ancestral stronghold? With a characteristically quick

-return of hope, the Admiral's niece exclaimed, "Certainly not!"

-

-

-

-

-IV

-

-A CHILLY RECEPTION

-

-

-Mrs. Benson approached the wardrobe trunk with the air of a person who

-has taken an immediate and violent dislike to an object.

-

-"We have all looked at your box, ma'am, but I am sorry to say we are

-not sure that it is set up properly. It is very different from any we

-have ever seen at the Manor, and the men had some difficulty in

-getting it up to the room. I fancy it is upside down, is it not? No?

-We rather thought it was. I would call the boot-and-knife boy to

-unlock it, but he jammed his hand in attempting to force the catches,

-and I thought you would be kind enough to instruct me how to open it,

-perhaps?"

-

-"I am quite able to do it myself," said Robinette, keeping down a

-hysterical laugh. "See how easily it goes when you know the secret!"

-and she deftly turned her key in two locks one after the other, let

-down the mysterious facade of the affair, and pulled out an

-extraordinary rack on which hung so many dresses and wraps that Mrs.

-Benson lost her breath in surprise.

-

-"Would you like me to carry some of your things into another room,

-ma'am?" she asked. "They will never go in the wardrobe; it is only a

-plain English wardrobe, ma'am. We have never had any American

-guests."

-

-"The things needn't be moved," said Robinette, "many of them will be

-quite convenient where they are;--and now you need not trouble about

-me; I am well used to helping myself, if you will be kind enough to

-come in just before dinner for a moment."

-

-Mrs. Benson disappeared below stairs, where she regaled the injured

-boot-and-knife boy and the female servants with the first instalment

-of what was destined to be the most dramatic and sensational serial

-story ever told at the Manor House.

-

-"The lid of the box don't lift up," she explained, "like all the box

-lids as ever I saw, and me with Lady Chitterton for six years,

-traveling constantly. The front of the thing splits in the middle and

-the bottom half falls on the floor. A heathenish kind of tray lifts

-off from its hinges like a door, and a clothes rack pulls out on

-runners. 'T is a sight to curdle your blood; and the number of dresses

-she's brought would make her out to be richer than Crusoe!--though I

-have heard from a cousin of mine who was in service in America that

-the ladies over there spend every penny they can rake and scrape on

-their clothes. Their husbands may work their fingers to the bone, and

-their parents be in the workhouse, but fine frocks they will have!"

-

-"Rather!" said the boot-and-knife boy, nursing his injured thumb.

-

-On the departure of Mrs. Benson from her room, Robinette gave a

-stifled shriek in which laughter and tears were equally mingled. Then

-she flew like a lapwing to the fire-place and lifted off a fan of

-white paper from the grate.

-

-"No possibility of help there!" she exclaimed. "Cold within, cold

-without! How shall I unpack? How shall I dress? How shall I live

-without a fire? Ah! here is the coal box! Empty! Empty, and it is only

-the month of April! 'Oh! to be in England now that April's there!' How

-could Browning write that line without his teeth chattering! How well

-I understand the desire of the British to keep India and South Africa!

-They must have some place to go where they can get warm! Now for

-unpacking, or any sort of manual labour which will put my frozen blood

-in circulation!"

-

-Slapping her hands, beating her breast, stamping her feet, Mrs. Loring

-removed a few dresses from the offending trunk to the mahogany

-wardrobe, and disposed her effects neatly in the drawers of bureau and

-highboy.

-

-"I have made a mistake at the very beginning," she thought. "I

-supposed nothing could be too pretty for the Manor House and now I am

-afraid my worst is too fine. The Manor House of Stoke Revel! Wouldn't

-that appeal to anyone's imagination? Now what for to-night? White

-satin with crystal? Back you go into the trunk! Back goes the

-silver grey chiffon! I'll have it re-hung over flannel! Avaunt!

-heliotrope velvet with amethyst spangles, made with a view to

-ensnaring the High Church clergy! I wish I had a princess dress of

-moleskin with a court train of squirrel hanging from the shoulders!

-Here is the thing; my black Liberty satin two years old. I will

-cover part of my exposed neck and shoulders with a fichu of lace; my

-black silk openwork stockings will be drawn on over a pair of

-balbriggans, and the number of petticoats I shall don would discourage

-a Scotch fishwife! To-morrow I'll write Mrs. Spalding's maid to buy

-me two hot-water bottles, mittens, a box of quinine tablets and a

-Shetland shawl.... What are these--_fans?_ Retire into the depths of

-that tray and never look me in the face again!... _Parasols?_ I

-wonder at your impertinence in coming here! I shall give you cod

-liver oil and make you grow into umbrellas!"

-

-Presently the dinner gong growled through the house, and Robinette,

-still shivering, flung across her shoulders a shimmering scarf of

-white and silver. It fell over her simple black dress in just the

-right way, adding a last touch to the somewhat exotic grace which made

-her a stranger in her mother's home. Then she fled down the darkening

-passages, instinctively aware that unpunctuality was a crime in this

-house. Yet in spite of her haste, she paused before the window of an

-upper lobby, arrested by the scene it framed. Heavy rain still fell,

-and the light, made greenish by the nearness of great trees just

-coming into leaf, was cheerless and singularly cold. But that could

-not mar the majesty of the outlook which made the Manor of Stoke

-Revel, on its height, unique. Far below the house, the broad river

-slipped towards the sea, between woods that rose tier upon tier above

-and beyond--woods of beech and of oak, not yet green, but purplish

-under the rainy mist. On the bank, woods too, and here, where the

-river, in excess of strength, swirled into a creek--a shining

-sand-bank where fishing nets were hung. Then the low, strong tower of

-a church, with the sombreness of cypress beside it, and the thatched

-roofs of cottages.

-

-Something stirred in the heart of Robinette as she looked, that part

-of her blood which her English mother had given her. This scene, so

-indescribably English as hardly to be imaginable in another land, had

-been painted for her again and again by her mother with all the

-retrospective romance of an exile's touch. She knew it, but she did

-not know if she could ever love it, beautiful though it was and

-noble.

-

-But she banished these misgivings and ran down the twisted stairway

-so fast that she was almost panting when she reached the drawing-room

-door.

-

-"I will take your arm, please," said the hostess coldly, while Miss

-Smeardon wore the virtuous and injured air of one who has been kept

-waiting. Mrs. de Tracy laid, on the warm and smooth arm of her guest,

-one of her small, dry hands, sparkling with rings, and the procession

-closed with the companion and the lap-dog.

-

-In the dining room, the shutters were closed, and the candles, in

-branching candlesticks of silver, only partially lit a room long and

-low like the other. The walls were darkened with pictures, and

-Robinette's bright eyes searched them eagerly.

-

-"The Sir Joshua is not here!" she thought. "And it was not in the

-drawing room. Has Aunt de Tracy given, or hidden it away--my very own

-name-picture?"

-

-With all her determination, Robinette somehow could not summon courage

-enough to ask where this picture was. Such a question would involve

-the mention of her mother's name, and from that she shrank. Young Mrs.

-Loring had never before found herself in a society where conversation

-was apparently regarded as a crime, and to fit herself to her

-environment, under the scrutiny of Mrs. de Tracy and the decidedly

-inimical looks of the companion, took all her time. A burden of

-self-consciousness lay upon her such as her light and elastic spirit

-had never known. She found herself morbidly observant of minute

-details; the pattern of the tablecloth; the crest upon the spoons; the

-curious red knobs upon Miss Smeardon's fingers, and the odd mincing

-way she held her fork; the almost athletic efforts of the butler when

-he raised an enormous silver dish-cover, and the curiously frugal and

-unappetizing nature of the viand it disclosed. The wizened face of the

-lap-dog, too, peering over the table's edge, out of Miss Smeardon's

-lap, might have acquired its distrustful expression, Robinette

-thought, from habitual doubts as to whether enough to eat would ever

-be his good fortune. The meal ended with the ceremonious presentation

-to each lady in turn, of three wrinkled apples and two crooked bananas

-in a probably priceless dish of Crown Derby. Then the procession

-re-formed and returned to the drawing room.

-

-"And the evening and the morning were the first day!" sighed Robinette

-to herself in the chilly solitude of her own room. How often could she

-endure the repetition?

-

-

-

-

-V

-

-AT WITTISHAM

-

-

-"May I have a fire to dress by, Benson?" Robinette asked rather

-timidly that night, her head just peeping above the blankets.

-

-"_Fire_?" returned Benson, in italics, with an interrogation point.

-

-Robinette longed to spell the word and ask Benson if it had ever come

-to her notice before, but she stifled her desire and said, "I am quite

-ashamed, Benson, but you see I am not used to the climate yet. If

-you'll pamper me just a little at the beginning, I shall behave better

-presently."

-

-"I will give orders for a fire night and morning, certainly, ma'am,"

-said Benson. "I did not offer it because our ladies never have one in

-their bedrooms at this time of the year. Mrs. de Tracy is very strong

-and active for her age."

-

-"It's my opinion she's a w'eedler," remarked Benson at the housekeeper's

-luncheon table. "She asks for what she wants like a child. She has a

-pretty way with her, I can't deny that, but is she a w'eedler?"

-

-Wheedler or not, Robinette got her fire to dress by, and so was able

-to come down in the morning feeling tolerably warm. It was well that

-she was, for the cold tea and tough toast of the de Tracy breakfast

-had little in them to warm the heart. Conversation languished during

-the meal, and after a walk to the stables Robinette was thankful to

-return to her own room again on the pretext of writing letters. There

-she piled up the fire, drew her chair close up to the hearth, and

-employed herself until noon, when she took her embroidery and joined

-her aunt in the drawing room. Luncheon was announced at half past one,

-and immediately after it Mrs. de Tracy and Miss Smeardon went to their

-respective bedrooms for rest.

-

-"Are there indeed only twelve hours in the day?" Robinette asked

-herself desperately as she heard the great, solemn-toned hall clock

-strike two. It seemed quite impossible that it could be only two; the

-whole afternoon had still to be accounted for, and how? Well, she

-might look over her clothes again, re-arranging them in all their

-dainty variety in the wardrobe and drawers; she might put tissue paper

-into the sleeves of each bodice, smoothing out every crease; she might

-even find that some tiny repairs were needed! There were three new

-hats, and several pairs of new gloves to be tried on; her accounts

-must be made up, her cheque book balanced; yet all these things would

-take but a short time. Then the hall clock struck three.

-

-"I must go out," she thought.

-

-Coming through the hall from her room Robinette met her aunt and Miss

-Smeardon descending the staircase.

-

-"We are driving this afternoon," said Mrs. de Tracy, "would you not

-like to come with us?"

-

-The thought turned Robinette to stone: she had visited the stables,

-and seen the coachman lead what seemed to her a palsied horse out into

-the yard. Her sympathetic allusion to the supposed condition of the

-steed had not been well received, for the man had given her to

-understand that this was the one horse of the establishment, but

-Robinette had vowed never to sit behind it.

-

-"I think I'd rather walk, Aunt de Tracy," she said, "I'd like to go

-and see my mother's old nurse, Mrs. Prettyman. Can I do any errands

-for you?"

-

-"None, thank you. To go to Wittisham you have to cross the ferry,

-remember."

-

-"Oh! that must be simple! you may be sure I shall not lose myself!"

-said Robinette.

-

-Both the older women looked curiously at her for a moment; then Mrs.

-de Tracy said:--

-

-"You will kindly not use the public ferry; the footman will row you

-across to Wittisham at any hour you may mention to him."

-

-"Oh, but Aunt de Tracy, I'd really prefer the public ferry."

-

-"Nonsense, impossible; the footman shall row you," said Mrs. de Tracy

-with finality.

-

-Robinette said nothing; she hated the idea of the footman, but it

-seemed inevitable. "Am I never to get away from their dullnesses?" she

-thought. "A public ferry sounds quite lively in place of being rowed

-by William!"

-

-When the shore was reached, however, Robinette discovered that the

-passage across the river in a leaky little boat, rowed by a painfully

-inexperienced servant, was almost too much for her. To see him

-fumbling with the oars, made her tingle to take them herself; she

-could not abide the irritation of a return journey with such a

-boatman. This determination was hastened when she saw that instead of

-the three-decker steamer of her native land, the ferry at Wittisham

-was just like an ordinary row-boat; that one rang a bell hanging from

-a picturesque tower; that a nice young man with a sprig of wallflower

-in his cap rowed one across, and that each passenger handed out a

-penny to him on the farther side.

-

-"How enchantingly quaint!" she cried. "William, you can go home; I

-shall return by the public ferry."

-

-William looked surprised but only replied, "Very good, ma'am."

-

-On warm summer afternoons the tiny square of Mrs. Prettyman's garden

-made as delightful a place to sit in as one could wish. There was

-sunshine on the turf, and a thin shade was cast by the drooping boughs

-of the plum tree; just enough to shelter old eyes from the glare. When

-she was very tired with doing her work Mrs. Prettyman would totter out

-into the garden. She was getting terribly lame now, yet afraid to

-acknowledge it, knowing, with the desperate wisdom of poverty, that

-once to give in, very often ended in giving up altogether. So her

-lameness was 'blamed on the weather,' 'blamed on scrubbing the

-floor,' blamed on anything rather than the tragic, incurable fact of

-old age. This afternoon her rheumatism had been specially bad: she had

-an inclination to cry out when she rose from her chair, and every step

-was an effort. Yet the sunshine was tempting; it warmed old and aching

-bones through and through as no fire could do; and Mrs. Prettyman

-thought she must make the effort to go out.

-

-She had just arrived at this conclusion, when a tap came to the door.

-

-"That you, Mrs. Darke?" she called out in her piping old voice. "Come

-in, me dear, I'm that stiff with me rheumatics to-day I can't scarce

-rise out of me chair."

-

-"It's not Mrs. Darke," said Robinette, stooping to enter through the

-tiny doorway. "It's a stranger, Mrs. Prettyman, come all the way from

-America to see you."

-

-"Lor' now, Miss, whoever may you be?" the old woman cried, making as

-if she would rise from her chair. But Robinette caught her arm and

-made her sit still.

-

-"Don't get up; please sit right there where you are, and I'll take

-this chair beside you. Now, Mrs. Prettyman, look at me hard, and tell

-me if you know who I am."

-

-The old woman gazed into Robinette's face, and then a light seemed to

-break over her.

-

-"It's Miss Cynthia's daughter you are!" she cried. "My Miss Cynthia as

-went and married in America!"

-

-She caught Robinette's white ringed hands in hers, and Robinette bent

-down and kissed the wrinkled old face.

-

-"I know that mother loved you, Nurse," she said. "She used often,

-often to tell me about you."

-

-After the fashion of old people, Mrs. Prettyman was too much moved to

-speak. Her face worked all over, and then slow tears began to run down

-her furrowed cheeks. She got up from her chair and walked across the

-uneven floor, leaning on a stick.

-

-"I've something here, Miss, I've something here; something I never

-parts with," she said. A tall chest of drawers stood against the wall,

-and the old woman began to search among its contents as she spoke. At

-last she found a little kid shoe, laid away in a handkerchief.

-

-"See here, Miss! here's my Miss Cynthia's shoe! 'T was tied on to my

-wedding coach the day I got married and left her. My 'usband 'e

-laughed at me cruel because I'd have that shoe with me; but I've kept

-it ever since."

-

-Robinette came and stood beside her, and they both wept together over

-the silly little shoe.

-

-"I want to talk a great deal to you, Nurse; I want to tell you all

-about mother and father, and how they died," said Robinette through

-her tears. How strange that she should have to come to this cottage

-and to this poor old woman before she found anyone to whom she could

-speak of her beloved dead! Her heart was so full that she could

-scarcely speak. A crowd of memories rushed into her mind; last scenes

-and parting words; those innumerable unforgettable details that are

-printed once for all upon the heart that loves and feels.

-

-"I'd like to tell you about it out of doors, Nurse dear," she said

-tearfully; "can you come out under the plum tree in your garden? It's

-lovely there."

-

-"Yes, dearie, yes, we'll come out under the plum tree, we will,"

-echoed Mrs. Prettyman.

-

-"See, Nursie, take my arm, I'll help you out into the warm sunshine,"

-Robinette said.

-

-They progressed very slowly, the old woman leaning with all her weight

-upon the arm of her strong young helper. Then under the flickering

-shade of the tree they sat down together for their talk.

-

-So much to tell, so much to hear, the afternoon slipped away unknown

-to them, and still they were sitting there hand in hand talking and

-listening; sometimes crying a little, sometimes laughing; a queerly

-assorted couple, these new-made friends.

-

-But when all the recollections had been talked over and wept over,

-when Mrs. Prettyman had told Robinette, with the extraordinary detail

-that old people can put into their memories of long ago, all that she

-remembered of Cynthia de Tracy's childhood, then Robinette began to

-question the old woman about her own life. Was she comfortable? Was

-she tolerably well off? Or had she difficulty in making ends meet?

-

-To these questions Mrs. Prettyman made valiant answers: she had a fine

-spirit, and no wish to let a stranger see the skeleton in the

-cupboard. But Robinette's quick instinct pierced through the veil of

-well-meant bravery and touched the truth.

-

-"Nurse dear," she said, "you say you're comfortable, and well off, but

-you won't mind my telling you that I just don't quite believe you."

-

-"Oh, my dear heart, what's that you be sayin'? callin' of me a liar?"

-chuckled the old woman fondly.

-

-Robinette rose from her seat on the bench and stood back to

-scrutinize the cottage. It was exquisitely picturesque, but this

-very picturesqueness constituted its danger; for the place was a

-perfect death trap. The crumbling cob-walls that had taken on those

-wonderful patches of green colour, soaked in the damp like a sponge:

-the irregularity of the thatched roof that looked so well, admitted

-trickles of rain on wet nights; and the uneven mud floor of the

-kitchen revealed the fact that the cottage had been built without any

-proper foundation. The door did not fit, and in cold weather a

-knife-like draught must run in under it. All this Robinette's

-quick, practical glance took in; she gave a little nod or two,

-murmuring to herself, "A new thatch roof, a new door, a new cement

-floor." Then she came and sat down again.

-

-"Tell me now, how much do you have to live on every week, Nurse?" she

-asked.

-

-"Oh, Miss Robinette--ma'am, I should say--'t is wonderful how I gets

-on; and then there's the plum tree--just see the flourish on it,

-Missie dear! 'T will have a crop o' plums come autumn will about drag

-down the boughs! I don't know how 't would be with me without I had

-the plum tree."

-

-"Do you really make something by it?" Robinette asked.

-

-The old woman chuckled again. "To be sure I makes; makes jam every

-autumn; a sight o' jam. Come inside again, me dear, an' see me jam

-cupboard and you'll know."

-

-She hobbled into the kitchen, and opened the door of a wall press in

-the corner. There, row above row stood a solid phalanx of jam pots; it

-seemed as if a whole town might be supplied out of Mrs. Prettyman's

-cupboard.

-

-"'T is well thought of, me jam," the old woman said, grinning with

-pleasure. "I be very careful in the preparing of 'en; gets a penny the

-pound more for me jam than others, along of its being so fine."

-

-Robinette was charmed to see that here Mrs. Prettyman had a reliable

-source of income, however slender.

-

-"How much do you reckon to get from it every year?" she asked.

-

-"Going five pounds, dear: four pounds fifteen shillings and sixpence,

-last autumn; and please the Lord there's a better crop this season, so

-'t will be the clear five pounds. Oh! I do be loving me plum tree like

-a friend, I do."

-

-They turned back into the sunshine again, that Robinette should admire

-this wonderful tree-friend once more. She stood under its shadow with

-great delight, as the Bible says, gazing up through the intricate

-network of boughs and blossom to the cloudless blue above her.

-

-"It's heavenly, Nurse, just heavenly!" she sighed as she came and sat

-down beside the old woman again.

-

-"Then there's me duck too, Missie! Lard, now I don't know how I'd be

-without I had me duck. Duckie I calls 'er and Duckie she is; company

-she is, too, to me mornin's, with her 'Quack, Quack,' under the

-winder."

-

-So the old woman prattled on, giving Robinette all the history of her

-life, with its tiny joys and many struggles, till it seemed to the

-listener that she had always known Mrs. Prettyman, the plum tree, and

-her duck--known them and loved them, all three.

-

-

-

-

-VI

-

-MARK LAVENDAR

-

-

-Hundreds of years ago the street of Stoke Revel village, if street it

-could be called, and the tower of the ancient church, must have looked

-very much the same as now.

-

-On such a day, when the oak woods were budding, and the English birds

-singing, and the spring sun was hot in a clear sky, a knight riding

-down the steep lane would have taken the same turn to the left on his

-way to the Manor. Were he a young man, he would probably have reined

-up his horse for a moment, and looked, as Mark Lavendar did now, at

-the blithe landscape before him. Only then the accessories would have

-been so different: the great horse, somewhat tired by long hours of

-riding, the armour that glinted in the sun, the casque pushed up to

-let the fresh air play upon the rider's face; such a figure must have

-often stood just at that turn where the lane wound up the little hill.

-The landscape was the same, and young men in all ages are very much

-the same, so--although this one had merely arrived by train, and

-walked from the nearest station--Mark Lavendar stopped and leaned over

-the low wall when he came to the turn of the road, and looked down at

-the river.

-

-He boasted no war horse nor armour; none of the trappings of the older

-world added to his distinction, and yet he was a very pleasing figure

-of a man.

-

-The gaunt brown face was quite hard and solemn in expression; ugly,

-but not commonplace, for as a friend once said of him, "His eyes seem

-to belong to another person." It was not this, but only that the eyes,

-blue as Saint Veronica's flower, showed suddenly a different aspect of

-the man, an unexpected tenderness that flatly contradicted the hard

-features of his face. He looked very nice when he laughed too, so

-that most people when they had found out the trick, tried to make him

-laugh as often as possible.

-

-"What a day! Heavens! what a lovely day," he said to himself as he

-leaned on the low wall. "I want to be courting Amaryllis somewhere in

-these woods, and instead I've got to go and talk business with that

-old woman;" and he looked ruefully towards the Manor House; for this

-was not his first visit by any means, and he knew only too well the

-hours of boredom that awaited him. Mrs. de Tracy, strange to say, had

-a soft side towards this young man, the son of her family solicitor.

-Mark was invariably sent down by his father when there was any

-business to be transacted at Stoke Revel. The older man was fond of a

-good dinner, and hated circumlocution about affairs, and it was only

-when a death in the family, or some other crucial event, made his

-presence absolutely necessary that he came down himself. Mark was

-sacrificed instead, and many a wearisome hour had he spent in that

-house. However on this occasion he had been glad enough to get out of

-London for a while; the country was divine, and even the de Tracy

-business did not occupy the whole day. There would be hours on the

-river; afternoons spent riding along those green lanes through which

-he had just passed, where the banks were starred with little vivid

-flowers. Mark had an almost childish delight in such beauty. He had

-loitered on the way along, flung himself down on a bank for a few

-minutes, and burying his face amongst the flowers, listened with a

-smile upon his mouth to the birds that chirruped in the branches of

-the oak above him.

-

-Now he leaned on the low wall, and gazed at the shining reaches of the

-river. "What a day!" he said to himself again. "What a divine

-afternoon"; then he added quite simply, "I wish I were in love;

-everyone under eighty ought to be, on such a day!"

-

-Even at the age of thirty most men of any personal attractions have

-some romantic memories. Lavendar had his share, but somehow that

-morning he was disconcertingly candid to himself. It may have been the

-sudden change from London air and London noise; something in the clear

-transparency of the April day, in the flute-like melody of the birds'

-song, in the dream-like beauty of the scene before him, that made all

-the moth and rust that had consumed the remembrances of the past more

-apparent. There was little of the treasure of heaven there,--it had

-mostly been nonsense or vanity or worse. He wanted, oh, how he wanted,

-to be able just for once to surrender himself to what was absolutely

-ideal; to have a memory when he was an old man, of something that had

-no fault in it.

-

-"No, I've never been really in love," he said to himself, "I may as

-well confess it; and I daresay I never shall be, but marry on an

-impulse like most men, make the best of it afterwards, and have a

-sort of middle-class happiness in the end of the day."

-

-"One, Two, Three," said the church clock from the ancient tower,

-booming out the note, and Lavendar started, and rubbed his hands

-across his dazzled eyes. "Luncheon is a late meal in that awful house,

-if I remember," he said, "but it must be over by this time. I really

-must go in. Let me collect my thoughts; the business is 'just things

-in general,' but especially the sale of some cottage or other and the

-land it stands on. Yes, yes, I remember; the papers are all right. Now

-for the old ladies."

-

-He made his entrance into the Manor drawing room a few minutes later

-with a charming smile.

-

-Mrs. de Tracy actually walked a few steps to meet him, with a greeting

-less frigid than usual.

-

-"I'm glad to see you, Mark," said she. "Bates said you preferred to

-walk from the station."

-

-Mark turned his kind eyes on Miss Smeardon, and held her knuckly hand

-in his own almost tenderly. It was a very bad habit, which had led to

-some mischief in the past, that when he was sorry for a thing he

-wanted to be very kind to it; and this made him unusually pleasing,

-and dangerous!

-

-"Business first and pleasure afterwards; excellent maxim!" he said to

-himself half an hour later, as he removed the dust of travel from his

-person, preparatory to an interview with Mrs. de Tracy. "Now for it!"

-

-He liked the drawing room at Stoke Revel and always wished it had

-other occupants when he entered it. This afternoon it seemed

-particularly agreeable, the open windows letting in the slanting

-sunshine and a strong scent of jonquils and sweet briar.

-

-"Well, Mrs. de Tracy," said Mark, "I am my father's spokesman, you

-know, and we have serious business to discuss. But tell me first,

-how's my young friend Carnaby?"

-

-"Thank you; my grandson has a severe attack of quinsy," replied Mrs.

-de Tracy. "He is to have sick-leave whenever the Endymion returns to

-Portsmouth."

-

-"Oh! Carnaby will make short work of an attack of quinsy," said

-Lavendar, genially.

-

-"It would please me better," retorted Mrs. de Tracy severely, "if my

-grandson showed signs of mental improvement as well as bodily health.

-His letters are ill-spelled, ill-written, and ill-expressed. They are

-the letters of a school-boy."

-

-"He is not much more than a school-boy, is he?" suggested Mark, "only

-fifteen! The mental improvement will come; too soon, for my taste. I

-like Carnaby as he is!"

-

-The young man had seated himself beside his hostess in an attitude of

-perfect ease. Though bored by his present environment, he was entirely

-at home in it. Just because he greatly dared towards her and was never

-afraid, Mrs. de Tracy liked him. With the mere flicker of an eyelid,

-she dismissed the attendant Smeardon.

-

-"There has been an offer for the land at Wittisham," Lavendar said,

-when they were alone.

-

-Mrs. de Tracy winced. "That is no matter of congratulation with me,"

-she said bleakly.

-

-"But it is with us, for it is a most excellent one!" returned the

-young man hardily. "The firm has had the responsibility of advising

-the sale, which we consider absolutely unavoidable in the present

-financial condition of Stoke Revel. We have advertised for a year, and

-advertisement is costly. Now comes an offer of a somewhat peculiar

-kind, but sound enough." Lavendar here produced a bundle of documents

-tied with the traditional red tape. "An artist," he continued,

-"Waller, R. A.--you know the name?"

-

-"I do not," interpolated Mrs. de Tracy grimly.

-

-"Nevertheless, a well known painter," persisted Mark, "and one, as it

-happens, of the orchard scenery of this part of England. He has known

-Wittisham for a long time, and only last year he made a success with

-the painting of a plum tree which grows in front of one of the

-cottages. It was sold for a large sum, and, as a matter of sentiment,

-I suppose, Waller wishes to buy the cottage and make it into a summer

-retreat or studio for himself."

-

-"He cannot buy it," said Mrs. de Tracy with the snort of a war horse.

-

-"He cannot buy it apart from the land," insinuated Mark, "but he is

-flush of cash and ready to buy the land too--very nearly as much as we

-want to sell, and the bargain merely waits your consent. The sum that

-has been agreed upon is of the kind that a man in the height of his

-triumph offers for a fancy article. No such sum will ever be offered

-for land at Wittisham again; old orchard land, falling into desuetude

-as it is and covered with condemned cottages."

-

-Mrs. de Tracy was sternly silent, and Mark awaited her next words with

-some curiosity. He felt like a torturer drawing the tooth of a Jew in

-the good old days. This sale of land was a bitter pill to the widow,

-as it well might be, for it was the beginning of the end, as the de

-Tracy solicitors could have told you. There had been de Tracys of

-Stoke Revel since Queen Elizabeth's time, but there would not be de

-Tracys of Stoke Revel much longer,--unless young Carnaby married an

-heiress when he came of age--and that no de Tracy had ever done.

-

-"The land across the river," Mrs. de Tracy said at last, "was the

-first land the de Tracys held, but much of it went at the Restoration.

-Well, let this go too!" she added harshly.

-

-Mark blessed himself that indecision was no part of the lady's

-character and sighed with relief. "My father would like to know," he

-said, "what you propose to do with regard to the old woman who is the

-present tenant of the cottage."

-

-"Elizabeth Prettyman is not a tenant," said Mrs. de Tracy coldly.

-"She is practically a pensioner, since she lives rent-free."

-

-"True, I forgot," said Mark soothingly. "I beg your pardon."

-

-"Do not suppose that it is by my wish," continued Mrs. de Tracy

-coldly. "I have never approved of supporting the peasantry in

-idleness. This woman happened to be for some years nurse to Cynthia de

-Tracy, my husband's younger sister, who deeply offended her family by

-marrying an American named Bean. I see no claim in that to a pension

-of any kind."

-

-"But your husband saw it, I imagine," interpolated Mark quietly, and

-Mrs. de Tracy gave him a fierce look, which he met, however, without a

-sign of flinching.

-

-"My husband had a mistaken idea that Prettyman was poor when she

-became a widow," said Mrs. de Tracy. "On the contrary she had

-relations quite well able to support her, I believe. I never cross the

-river, in these days, and the matter has escaped my memory, so that

-things have been left as they were."

-

-"No great loss," said Mark candidly, "since the cottage in its present

-state is utterly unfit for any tenant. As to Prettyman, is it your

-intention to give her notice to quit?"

-

-"Unquestionably, since the cottage is needed," answered Mrs. de Tracy.

-"She has occupied it too long as it is." The speaker's lips closed

-like a vice over the words.

-

-"God pity Elizabeth Prettyman!" ejaculated Lavendar to himself. "Might

-is Right still, apparently, at Stoke Revel!" Aloud he merely said, "A

-weak deference to public opinion was never a foible of yours, Mrs. de

-Tracy; but I think I would advise you to consider some question of

-compensation to Mrs. Prettyman for the loss of the cottage."

-

-"If you can show me that the woman has any legal claim upon the

-estate, I will consider the question, but not otherwise," said Mrs. de

-Tracy with such an air of finality that Lavendar was inclined to let

-the matter drop for the moment.

-

-"The firm," he said, "will communicate your wishes to Mrs. Prettyman

-by letter."

-

-"Prettyman cannot read," snapped Mrs. de Tracy. "She must be told, and

-the sooner the better."

-

-"Well, Mrs. de Tracy," said the young man with a short laugh,

-"provided it is not I who have to tell her, well and good. I warn you

-the task would not be to my taste unless compensation were offered

-her."

-

-Mrs. de Tracy's features hardened to a degree unusual even to her.

-

-"I am apparently less tender-hearted than you," she said sardonically.

-"I shall, if I think fit, deal with Prettyman in person." The subject

-was dropped, and Lavendar rose to leave the room, but Mrs. de Tracy

-detained him.

-

-"The Admiral's niece, Mrs. David Loring, is my guest at present," she

-said. "It happens that she has crossed the river to Wittisham and is

-paying a visit to Prettyman. I should be obliged, Mark, if you would

-row across and fetch her back, as by some misunderstanding, my servant

-has not waited for her. You are an oarsman, I know."

-

-The young man consented with alacrity. "I shall kill two birds with

-one stone," he said cheerfully, "I shall visit the famous plum tree

-cottage and see Mrs. Prettyman for myself; and I shall have the

-privilege of executing your commission as Mrs. Loring's escort. It

-sounds a very agreeable one!"

-

-"You have no time to lose," said Mrs. de Tracy with a glance at the

-clock.

-

-

-

-

-VII

-

-A CROSS-EXAMINATION

-

-

-Lavendar escaped from the house, where, even in the smoke-room, it

-seemed unregenerate to light a cigar, and took the path to the shore.

-

-"I wonder if one woman staying in a house full of men would find life

-as depressing as I do cooped up here under precisely opposite

-circumstances," he thought, as he made his way through the little

-churchyard. "It cannot be the atmosphere of femininity that bores me,

-however, for Mrs. de Tracy has a strongly masculine flavour and Miss

-Smeardon is as nearly neuter as a person can be."

-

-He took a couple of oars from the boat-house as he passed, and going

-to the little landing stage untied the boat and started for the

-farther shore.

-

-It was good to feel the water parting under his vigorous strokes and

-delightful to exert his strength after the hours of stifled irritation

-at the Manor. It was a bright, calm close of day, when in the rarefied

-evening air each sound began to acquire the sharpness that marks the

-hour. He could hear the rush of the waters behind the boat and the

-voices of the fishers farther up the stream. As he drew up to the bank

-and took in his oars the stillness was so great that you could have

-heard a pin fall, when suddenly from a tree above him a bird broke

-into one little finished song and then was still, as if it had uttered

-all it wished to say.

-

-"What a heavenly evening!" thought Lavendar, "and what a lovely spot!

-That must be the cottage just above me. Mrs. de Tracy said I should

-know it by the plum tree. Ah, there it is!" Tying up the boat he

-sprang up the steps and walked along the flagged path. The plum tree

-these last few days had begun to look its fairest. The blossoms did

-not yet conceal the leaves, but it was a very bower of beauty already.

-There was a little table spread for tea under its branches, and an old

-woman like thousands of old women in thousands of cottages all over

-England, was sitting behind it, precisely as if she had been a

-coloured illustration in a summer number of an English weekly. She was

-on the typical bench in the typical attitude, but instead of the

-typical old man in a clean smock frock who should have occupied the

-end of the bench, there sat beside her a distinctly lovely young

-woman. What struck Lavendar was the wealth of colour she brought into

-the picture: goldy brown hair, brown tweed dress, with a cape of blue

-cloth slipping off her shoulders, and a brown toque with a pert

-upstanding quill that seemed to express spirit and pluck, and a merry

-heart. His quick glance took in the little hands that held the

-withered old ones. Both heads were bowed and in the brown tweed lap

-was a child's shoe,--a wee, worn, fat shoe. Beside it lay an absurd

-bit of crumpled, tear-soaked embroidery that had been intended to do

-duty as a handkerchief but had evidently proved quite unseaworthy.

-

-Waddling about on the flags close to the little table was a large fat

-duck wearing a look of inexpressible greed. "_Quack, quack, quack_!"

-it said, waddling off angrily as Lavendar approached.

-

-At the sound of the duck's raucous voice both the women looked up.

-

-"Is this Mrs. Prettyman's cottage, ma'am?" Lavendar asked with his

-charming smile.

-

-"Yes, sir, 't is indeed, and who may you be, if I may be so bold as to

-ask?"

-

-"I'm Mr. Lavendar, Mrs. de Tracy's lawyer, Mrs. Prettyman. I'm come to

-do some business at Stoke Revel," he added, for the old face had

-clouded over, and Mrs. Prettyman's whole expression changed to one of

-timid mistrust. "I really was sent by Mrs. de Tracy," he went on,

-turning to Robinette, "to take you home; Mrs. Loring, isn't it?"

-

-"Yes, I am Mrs. Loring," she said, frankly holding out her hand to

-him. "I knew you were expected at Stoke Revel, but I sent the footman

-back myself. He spoils the scenery and the river altogether."

-

-"I've got a boat down there; Mrs. de Tracy doesn't quite like your

-taking the ferry; may I have the honour of rowing you across? My

-orders were to bring you back as soon as possible."

-

-"I'm blest if I hurry," was his unspoken comment as Robinette gaily

-agreed, and, having bidden good-bye to the old woman, with a quick

-caress that astonished him a good deal, she laid down the little shoe

-gently upon the bench, and turned to accompany him to the boat.

-

-The river was like a looking-glass; the air like balm. "We'll

-take some time getting across, against the tide," said Lavendar

-reflectively, as he resolved that the little voyage should be

-prolonged to its fullest possible extent. He was not going into

-the Manor a moment earlier than he could help, when this charming

-person was sitting opposite to him. So this was Mrs. Loring! How

-different from the stout middle-aged lady whom Mrs. de Tracy's

-words had conjured up when he set out to find her!

-

-"Old Mrs. Prettyman was my mother's nurse," Robinette remarked as

-Lavendar dipped his oars gently into the stream and began to row. "I

-went to see her feeling quite grown up, and she seemed to consider me

-still a child; I was feeling about four years old at the moment when

-you appeared and woke me to the real world again."

-

-She had dried her eyes now and had pulled her hat down so as to shade

-her face, but Lavendar could see the traces of her weeping, and the

-dear little ineffectual rag of a handkerchief was still in one hand.

-

-"What on earth was she crying about?" he thought, as with lowered eyes

-he rowed very slowly across, only just keeping the boat's head

-against the current, and glancing now and then at the young woman.

-

-Was it possible that this lovely person was going to be his

-fellow-guest in that dull house? "My word! but she's pretty! and what

-were the tears about ... and the little shoe? Did it belong to a child

-of her own? Can she be a widow, I wonder," said Lavendar to himself.

-

-"I often think," he said suddenly, raising his head, "that when two

-people meet for the first time as utter strangers to each other, they

-should be encouraged, not forbidden, to ask plain questions. It may be

-my legal training, but I'd like all conversation to begin in that way.

-As a child I was constantly reproved for my curiosity, especially when

-I once asked a touchy old gentleman, 'Which is your glass eye? The one

-that moves, or the one that stands still?'"

-

-The tears had dried, the hat was pushed back again, the young woman's

-face broke into an April smile that matched the day and the weather.

-

-"Oh, come, let us do it," she exclaimed. "I'd love to play it like a

-new game: we know nothing at all about each other, any more than if we

-had dropped from the moon into the boat together. Oh! do be quick!

-We've so little time; the river is quite narrow; who's to open the

-ball?"

-

-"I'll begin, by right of my profession; put the witness in the box,

-please.--What is your name, madam?"

-

-"Robinette Loring," she said demurely, clasping her hands on her knee,

-an almost childlike delight in the new game dimpling the corners of

-her mouth from time to time.

-

-"What is your age, madam?" Lavendar hesitated just for a moment before

-putting this question.

-

-"I refuse to answer; you must guess."

-

-"Contempt of Court--"

-

-"Well, go on; I'm twenty-two and six weeks."

-

-"Thank you, you are remarkably well preserved. I can hardly

-believe--those six-weeks! What nationality?"

-

-"American, of course, or half and half; with an English mother and

-American ideas."

-

-"Thank you. Where is your present place of residence?"

-

-"Stoke Revel Manor House."

-

-"What is the duration of the visit?"

-

-"Fixed at a month, but may be shortened at any time for bad

-behaviour."

-

-"Your purpose in coming to Stoke Revel?"

-

-"A Sentimental Journey, in search of fond relations."

-

-"Have you found these relations?"

-

-"I've found them; but the fondness is still to seek."

-

-"Have you left your family in America?"

-

-"I have no one belonging to me in the world," she answered simply, and

-her bright face clouded suddenly.

-

-There was a moment's rather embarrassed silence. "It's getting to be a

-sad game"; she said. "It's my turn now. I'll be the cross-examiner,

-but not having had your legal training, I'll tell you a few facts

-about this witness to begin with. He's a lawyer; I know that already.

-Your Christian name, sir?"

-

-"Mark."

-

-"Mark Lavendar. 'Mark the perfect man.' Where have I heard that; in

-Pope or in the Bible? Thank you; very good; your age is between thirty

-and thirty-five, with a strong probability that it is thirty-three. Am

-I right?"

-

-"Approximately, madam."

-

-"You are unmarried, for married men don't play games like this; they

-are too sedate."

-

-"You reassure me! Am I expected to acknowledge the truth of all your

-observations?"

-

-"You have only to answer my questions, sir."

-

-"I am unmarried, madam."

-

-"Your nationality?"

-

-"English of course. You don't count a French grandmother, I suppose?"

-

-Robinette clapped her hands. "Of course I do; it accounts for this

-game; it just makes all the difference.--Why have you come to Stoke

-Revel; couldn't you help it?"

-

-A twinkle passed from the blue eyes to the brown ones.

-

-"I am here on business connected with the estate."

-

-"For how long?"

-

-"An hour ago I thought all might be completed in a few days, but these

-affairs are sometimes unaccountably prolonged!" (Was there another

-twinkle? Robinette could hardly say.) They were half-way across the

-river now. She leaned over and looked at herself in the water for a

-moment.

-

-Lavendar rested on his oars, and began to rub the palms of his hands,

-smiling a little to himself as he bent his head.

-

-"Yours is an odd Christian name," he said. "I've never heard it

-before."

-

-"Then you haven't visited your National Gallery faithfully enough,"

-said Mrs. Loring. "Robinetta is one of the Sir Joshua pictures there,

-you know, and it was a great favourite of my mother's in her girlhood.

-Indeed she saved up her pin-money for nearly two years that she might

-have a good copy of it made to hang in her bedroom where she could

-look at it night and morning."

-

-"Then you were named after the picture?"

-

-"I was named from the memory of it," said Robinette, trailing her hand

-through the clear water. "Mother took nothing to America with her but

-my father's love (there was so much of that, it made up for all she

-left behind), so the picture was thousands of miles away when I was

-born. Mother told me that when I was first put into her arms she

-thought suddenly, as she saw my dark head, 'Here is my own Robinetta,

-in place of the one I left behind,' and fell asleep straight away,

-full of joy and content."

-

-"And they shortened the name to Robinette?"

-

-"I was christened properly enough," she answered. "It was the world

-that clipped my name's little wings; the world refuses to take me

-seriously; I can't think why, I'm sure; I never regarded _it_ as a

-joke."

-

-"A joke," said Lavendar reflectively; "it's a sort of grim one at

-times; and yet it's funny too," he said, suddenly raising his eyes.

-

-"Now that's the odd thing I was thinking as I looked at you just now,"

-Robinette said frankly. "You seem so deadly solemn until you look up

-and laugh--and then you _do_ laugh, you know. That's the French

-grandmother again! It was nice in her to marry your grandfather! It

-helped a lot!"

-

-He laughed then certainly, and so did she, and then pointed out to him

-that they were being slowly drifted out of their course, and that if

-he meant to get across to the landing-stage he must row a little

-harder.

-

-"I have met American women casually;" he said, bending to his oars,

-"but I have never known one well."

-

-"It's rather too bad to disturb the tranquillity of your impressions,"

-returned Mrs. Loring composedly.

-

-Lavendar looked up with another twinkle. She seemed to provoke

-twinkles; he did not realize he had so many in stock.

-

-"You mean American women are not painted in quite the right colours?"

-

-"I suppose black _is_ a colour?"

-

-"Oh! I see your point of view!" and Lavendar twinkled again.

-

-"I can tell you in five sentences exactly what you have heard about

-us. Will you say whether I am right? If you refuse I'll put you in the

-witness box and then you'll be forced to speak!"

-

-"Very well; proceed."

-

-"One: We are clever, good conversationalists, and as cold as

-icicles."

-

-"Yes."

-

-"Two: We dress beautifully and use extravagant means to compass our

-ends in this direction."

-

-"Yes."

-

-"Three: We keep our overworked husbands under strict discipline."

-

-"Yes! I say,--I don't like this game."

-

-"Neither do I, but it's very much played,--"

-

-"Four: We prefer hotels to home life and don't bring up our children

-well."

-

-"Yes."

-

-"Five: We interfere with the proper game laws by bagging English

-husbands instead of staying on our own preserves. That's about all, I

-think. Were not those rumours tolerably familiar to you in the

-ha'penny papers and their human counterparts?"

-

-Lavendar was so amused by this direct storming of his opinion that he

-could hardly keep his laughter within bounds. "I've heard one other

-criticism," he said, "that you were all pretty and all had small feet

-and hands! I am now able to declare that to be a base calumny and to

-hope that all the others will prove just as false!" Then Robinette

-laughed too; eyes, lips, cheeks! When Lavendar looked at her he wished

-that his father would keep him at Stoke Revel for a month.

-

-The sun was going down now, and the rising tide came swelling up from

-the sea, lifting itself and silently swelling the volume of the river,

-in a way that had something awful about it. The whole current of the

-great stream was against it, but behind was the force of the sea and

-so it filled and filled with hardly a ripple, as the heart is filled

-with a new desire. Up from the mouth of the river came a faint breeze

-bringing the taste of the ocean into the deeply wooded creeks. It had

-freshened into a little wind, as they drew up at the boat-house, that

-flapped Robinette's blue cape about her, and dyed the colour in her

-cheeks to a livelier tint. As they walked up the narrow pathway to the

-house a deep silence fell between them that neither attempted to

-break.

-

-At the top of the hill, she paused to take breath, and look across the

-river. It was half dark already there, on the other side in the deep

-shadow of the hill; and a lamp in the window of the cottage shone like

-a star beside the faintly green shape of the budding plum tree.

-

-As Robinette entered the door of the Manor House she took out her

-little gold-meshed purse and handed Mark Lavendar a penny.

-

-"It's none too much," she said, meeting his astonished gaze with a

-smile. "I should have had to pay it on the public ferry, and you were

-ever so much nicer than the footman!"

-

-Lavendar put the penny in his waistcoat pocket and has never spent it

-to this day. It is impossible to explain these things; one can only

-state them as facts. Another fact, too, that he suddenly remembered,

-when he went to his room, was, that the moment her personality touched

-his he was filled with curiosity about her. He had met hundreds of

-women and enjoyed their conversation, but seldom longed to know on the

-instant everything that had previously happened to them.

-

-

-

-

-VIII

-

-SUNDAY AT STOKE REVEL

-

-

-On Sundays, the Stoke Revel household was expected to appear at church

-in full strength, visitors included.

-

-"We meet in the hall punctually at a quarter to eleven," it was Miss

-Smeardon's duty to announce to strangers. "Mrs. de Tracy always

-prefers that the Stoke Revel guests should walk down together, as it

-sets a good example to the villagers."

-

-"What Nelson said about going to church with Lady Hamilton!" Lavendar

-had once commented, irrepressibly, but the allusion, rather

-fortunately, was lost upon Miss Smeardon. Mark began to picture the

-familiar Sunday scene to himself; Miss Smeardon in the hall at a

-quarter to eleven punctually, marshalling the church-goers; and Mrs.

-Loring,--she would be late of course, and come fluttering downstairs

-in some bewitching combination of flowery hat and floating scarf that

-no one had ever seen before. What a lover's opportunity in this

-lateness, thought the young man to himself; but one could enjoy a walk

-to church in charming company, though something less than a lover.

-

-It was Mrs. de Tracy's custom, on Sunday mornings, to precede her

-household by half an hour in going to the sanctuary. No infirmities of

-old age had invaded her iron constitution, and it was nothing to her

-to walk alone to the church of Stoke Revel, steep though the hill was

-which led down through the ancient village to the yet more ancient

-edifice at its foot. During this solitary interval, Mrs. de Tracy

-visited her husband's tomb, and no one knew, or dared, or cared to

-enquire, what motive encouraged this pious action in a character so

-devoid of tenderness and sentiment. Was it affection, was it duty, was

-it a mere form, a tribute to the greatness of an owner of Stoke

-Revel, such as a nation pays to a dead king? Who could tell?

-

-The graveyard of Stoke Revel owned a yew tree, so very, very old that

-the count of its years was lost and had become a fable or a fairy

-tale. It was twisted, gnarled, and low; and its long branches, which

-would have reached the ground, were upheld, like the arms of some

-dying patriarch, by supports, themselves old and moss-grown. Under the

-spreading of this ancient tree were graves, and from the carved,

-age-eaten porch of the church, a path led among them, under the green

-tunnel, out into the sunny space beyond it. The Admiral lay in a vault

-of which the door was at the side of the church, for no de Tracy, of

-course, could occupy a mere grave, like one of the common herd; and

-here walked the funereal figure of Mrs. de Tracy, fair weather or

-foul, nearly every Sunday in the year.

-

-In justice to Mrs. de Tracy, it must be made plain that with all her

-faults, small spite was not a part of her character. Yet to-day, her

-anger had been stirred by an incident so small that its very

-triviality annoyed her pride. It was Mark Lavendar's custom, when his

-visits to Stoke Revel included a Sunday, cheerfully to evade

-church-going. His Sundays in the country were few, he said, and he

-preferred to enjoy them in the temple of nature, generally taking a

-long walk before lunch. But to-day he had announced his intention of

-coming to service, and well Mrs. de Tracy, versed in men and in human

-nature, knew why. Robinette would be there, and Lavendar followed, as

-the bee follows a basket of flowers on a summer day. As Mrs. de Tracy,

-like the Stoic that she was, accepted all the inevitable facts of

-life,--birth, death, love, hate (she had known them all in her day),

-she accepted this one also. But in that atrophy of every feeling

-except bitterness, that atrophy which is perhaps the only real

-solitude, the only real old age, her animosity was stirred. It was as

-though a dead branch upon some living tree was angry with the spring

-for breathing on it. As she returned, herself unseen in the shadow of

-the yew tree, she saw Lavendar and Robinette enter together under the

-lych-gate, the figure of the young woman touched with sunlight and

-colour, her lips moving, and Lavendar smiling in answer. In the

-clashing of the bells--bells which shook the air, the earth, the

-ancient stones, the very nests upon the trees--their voices were

-inaudible, but in their faces was a young happiness and hope to which

-the solitary woman could not blind herself.

-

-Presently in the lukewarm air within, Robinette was finding the

-church's immemorial smell of prayer-books, hassocks, decaying wood,

-damp stones, matting, school-children, and altar flowers, a harmonious

-and suggestive one if not pleasant. What an ancient air it was, she

-thought; breathed and re-breathed by slow generations of Stoke

-Revellers during their sleepy devotions! The very light that entered

-through the dim stained glass seemed old and dusty, it had seen so

-much during so many hundred years, seen so much, and found out so many

-secrets! Soon the clashing of the bells ceased and upon the still

-reverberating silence there broke the small, snoring noises of a

-rather ineffectual organ, while the amiable curate, Rev. Tobias Finch,

-made his appearance, and the service began.

-

-Mrs. de Tracy had entered the pew first, naturally; Miss Smeardon sat

-next, then Robinetta. Lavendar occupied the pew in front, alone, and

-through her half-closed eyelids Robinetta could see the line of his

-lean cheek and bony temple. He had not wished to sit there at all and

-he was so unresigned as to be badly in need of the soothing influences

-of Morning Prayer. Robinetta was beginning to wonder dreamily what

-manner of man this really was, behind his plain face and non-committal

-manner, when the muffled slam of a door behind, startled her, followed

-as it was by a quick step upon the matted aisle. Then without further

-warning, a big, broad-shouldered boy, in the uniform of a British

-midshipman, thrust himself into the pew beside her, hot and breathless

-after running hard. Mrs. Loring guessed at once that this must be

-Carnaby de Tracy, the young hopeful and heir of Stoke Revel of whom

-Mr. Lavendar had so often spoken, but the startling and unconventional

-nature of his appearance was not at all what one expected in a member

-of his family. Robinette stole more than one look at him as the

-offertory went round; a robust boy with a square chin, a fair face

-burnt red by the sun, a rollicking eye and an impudent nose; not

-handsome certainly, indeed quite plain, but he looked honest and

-strong and clean, and Robinette's frolicsome youth was drawn to his,

-all ready for fun. Carnaby hitched about a good deal, dropped his

-hymn-book, moved the hassock, took out his handkerchief, and on

-discovering a huge hole, turned crimson.

-

-Service over, the congregation shuffled out into the sunshine, and

-Mrs. de Tracy, after a characteristically cool and disapproving

-recognition of her grandson, became occupied with villagers.

-Lavendar made known young Carnaby to Mrs. David Loring, but the

-midshipman's light grey eyes had discovered the pretty face without

-any assistance.

-

-"This lady is your American cousin, Carnaby," said Mark. "Did you know

-you had one?"

-

-"I don't think I did," answered the boy, "but it's never too late to

-mend!" He attempted a bow of finished grown-upness, failed somewhat,

-and melted at once into an engaging boyishness, under which his

-frank admiration of his new-found relative was not to be hidden. "I

-say, are you stopping at Stoke Revel?" he asked, as though the news

-were too good to be true. "Jolly! Hullo--" he broke off with

-animation as the cassocked figure of the Rev. Tobias Finch fluttered

-out from the porch--"here's old Toby! Watch Miss Smeardon now! She

-expects to catch him, you know, but he says he's going to be a

-celly--celly-what-d'you-call-'em?"

-

-"Celibate?" suggested Lavendar, with laughing eyes.

-

-"The very word, thank you!" said Carnaby. "Yes: a celibate. Not so

-easily nicked, good old Toby--you bet!"

-

-"Do the clergymen over here always dress like that?" inquired

-Robinetta, trying to suppress a tendency to laugh at his slang.

-

-"Cassock?" said Carnaby. "Toby wouldn't be seen without it. High, you

-know! Bicycles in it. Fact! Goes to bed in it, I believe."

-

-"Carnaby, Carnaby! Come away!" said Lavendar. "Restrain these flights

-of imagination! Don't you see how they shock Mrs. Loring?"

-

-Before the Manor was reached, Robinetta and Carnaby had sworn eternal

-friendship deeper than any cousinship, they both declared. They met

-upon a sort of platform of Stoke Revel, predestined to sympathy upon

-all its salient characteristics; two naughty children on a holiday.

-

-"Do you get enough to eat here?" asked Carnaby in a hollow whisper, in

-the drawing-room before lunch.

-

-"Of course I have enough, Middy," answered Robinetta with unconscious

-reservation. She had rejected "Carnaby" at once as a name quite

-impossible: he was "Middy" to her almost from the first moment of

-their acquaintance.

-

-"Enough?" he ejaculated, "_I_ don't! I'd never be fed if it weren't

-for old Bates and Mrs. Smith and Cooky." Bates was the butler, Mrs.

-Smith the housekeeper, and Cooky her satellite. "Nobody gets enough to

-eat in this house!" added Carnaby darkly, "except the dog."

-

-At the lunch-table, the antagonism natural between a hot-blooded

-impetuous boy and a grandmother such as Mrs. de Tracy became rather

-painfully apparent. He had already been hauled over the coals for his

-arrival on Sunday and his indecorous appearance in church after

-service had begun.

-

-"It does not appear to me that you are at all in need of sick-leave,"

-said Mrs. de Tracy suspiciously.

-

-Carnaby, sensitive for all his robustness, flushed hotly, and then

-became impertinent. "My pulse is twenty beats too quick still, after

-quinsy. If you don't believe the doctor, ma'am, it's not my fault."

-

-"Carnaby has committed indiscretions in the way of growing since I

-last saw him," Lavendar broke in hastily. "At sixteen one may easily

-outgrow one's strength!"

-

-"Indeed!" said Mrs. de Tracy, frigidly. The situation was saved by the

-behaviour of the lap-dog, which suddenly burst into a passion of

-barking and convulsive struggling in Miss Smeardon's arms. His enemy

-had come, and Carnaby had fifty ways of exasperating his grandmother's

-favourite, secrets between him and the bewildered dog. Rupert was a

-Prince Charles of pedigree as unquestioned as his mistress's and an

-appearance dating back to Vandyke, but Carnaby always addressed him as

-"Lord Roberts," for reasons of his own. It annoyed his grandmother and

-it infuriated the dog, who took it for a deadly insult.

-

-"Lord Roberts! Bobs, old man, hi! hi!" Carnaby had but to say the

-words to make the little dog convulsive. He said them now, and the

-results seemed likely to be fatal to a dropsical animal so soon after

-a full meal.

-

-"You'll kill him!" whispered Robinette as they left the dining room.

-

-"I mean to!" was the calm reply. "I'd like to wring old Smeardon's

-neck too!" but the broad good humour of the rosy face, the twinkling

-eyes, belied these truculent words. In spite of infinite powers of

-mischief, there was not an ounce of vindictiveness in Carnaby de

-Tracy, though there might be other qualities difficult to deal with.

-

-"There's a man to be made there--or to be marred!" said Robinette to

-herself.

-

-

-

-

-IX

-

-POINTS OF VIEW

-

-

-Evenings at Stoke Revel were of a dullness all too deep to be sounded

-and too closely hedged in by tradition and observance to be evaded or

-shortened by the boldest visitor. Lavendar and the boy would have

-prolonged their respite in the smoking room had they dared, but in

-these later days Lavendar found he wished to be below on guard. The

-thought of Robinette alone between the two women downstairs made him

-uneasy. It was as though some bird of bright plumage had strayed into

-a barnyard to be pecked at by hens. Not but what he realised that this

-particular bird had a spirit of her own, and plenty of courage, but no

-man with even a prospective interest in a pretty woman, likes to think

-of the object of his admiration as thoroughly well able to look after

-herself. She must needs have a protector, and the heaven-sent one is

-himself.

-

-He had to take up arms in her defense on this, the first night of his

-arrival. Mrs. Loring had gone up to her room for some photographs of

-her house in America, and as she flitted through the door her scarf

-caught on the knob, and he had been obliged to extricate it. He had

-known her exactly four hours, and although he was unconscious of it,

-his heart was being pulled along the passage and up the stairway at

-the tail-end of that wisp of chiffon, while he listened to her

-retreating footsteps. Closing the door he came back to Mrs. de Tracy's

-side.

-

-"Her dress is indecorous for a widow," said that lady severely.

-

-"Oh, I don't see that," replied Lavendar. "She is in reality only a

-girl, and her widowhood has already lasted two years, you say."

-

-"Once a widow always a widow," returned Mrs. de Tracy sententiously,

-with a self-respecting glance at her own cap and the half-dozen dull

-jet ornaments she affected. Lavendar laughed outright, but she rather

-liked his laughter: it made her think herself witty. Once he had told

-her she was "delicious," and she had never forgotten it.

-

-"That's going pretty far, my dear lady," he replied. "Not all women

-are so faithful to a memory as you. I understand Americans don't wear

-weeds, and to me her blue cape is a delightful note in the landscape.

-Her dresses are conventional and proper, and I fancy she cannot

-express herself without a bit of colour."

-

-"The object of clothing, Mark, is to cover and to protect yourself,

-not to express yourself," said Mrs. de Tracy bitingly.

-

-"The thought of wearing anything bright always makes me shrink,"

-remarked Miss Smeardon, who had never apparently observed the tip of

-her own nose, "but some persons are less sensitive on these points

-than others."

-

-Mrs. de Tracy bowed an approving assent to this. "A widow's only

-concern should be to refrain from attracting notice," she said, as

-though quoting from a private book of proverbial philosophy soon to be

-published.

-

-"Then Mrs. Loring might as well have burned herself on her husband's

-funeral pyre, Hindoo fashion!" argued Lavendar. "A woman's life hasn't

-ended at two and twenty. It's hardly begun, and I fear the lady in

-question will arouse attention whatever she wears."

-

-"Would she be called attractive?" asked Mrs. de Tracy with surprise.

-

-"Oh, yes, without a doubt!"

-

-"In gentlemen's eyes, I suppose you mean?" said Miss Smeardon.

-

-"Yes, in gentlemen's eyes," answered Lavendar, firmly. "Those of women

-are apparently furnished with different lenses. But here comes the

-fair object of our discussion, so we must decide it later on."

-

-The question of ancestors, a favourite one at Stoke Revel, came up in

-the course of the next evening's conversation, and Lavendar found

-Robinette a trifle flushed but smiling under a double fire of

-questions from Mrs. de Tracy and her companion. Mrs. de Tracy was in

-her usual chair, knitting; Miss Smeardon sat by the table with a piece

-of fancy-work; Robinette had pulled a foot-stool to the hearthrug and

-sat as near the flames as she conveniently could. She shielded her

-face with the last copy of _Punch_, and let her shoulders bask in the

-warmth of the fire, which made flickering shadows on her creamy neck.

-Her white skirts swept softly round her feet, and her favourite

-turquoise scarf made a note of colour in her lap. She was one of those

-women who, without positive beauty, always make pictures of

-themselves.

-

-Lavendar analyzed her looks as he joined the circle, pretending to

-read. "She isn't posing," he thought, "but she ought to be painted.

-She ought always to be painted, each time one sees her, for

-everything about her suggests a portrait. That blue ribbon in her hair

-is fairly distracting! What the dickens is the reason one wants to

-look at her all the time! I've seen far handsomer women!"

-

-"Do you use Burke and Debrett in your country, Mrs. Loring?" Miss

-Smeardon was enquiring politely, as she laid down one red volume after

-the other, having ascertained the complete family tree of a lady who

-had called that afternoon.

-

-Robinette smiled. "I'm afraid we've nothing but telephone or business

-directories, social registers, and 'Who's Who,' in America," she

-said.

-

-"You are not interested in questions of genealogy, I suppose?" asked

-Mrs. de Tracy pityingly.

-

-"I can hardly say that. But I think perhaps that we are more occupied

-with the future than with the past."

-

-"That is natural," assented the lady of the Manor, "since you have so

-much more of it, haven't you? But the mixture of races in your

-country," she continued condescendingly, "must have made you

-indifferent to purity of strain."

-

-"I hope we are not wholly indifferent," said Robinette, as though she

-were stopping to consider. "I think every serious-minded person must

-be proud to inherit fine qualities and to pass them on. Surely it

-isn't enough to give _old_ blood to the next generation--it must be

-_good_ blood. Yes! the right stock certainly means something to an

-American."

-

-"But if you've nothing that answers to Burke and Debrett, I don't see

-how you can find out anybody's pedigree," objected Miss Smeardon. Then

-with an air of innocent curiosity and a glance supposed to be arch,

-"Are the Red Indians, the Negroes, and the Chinese in your so-called

-directories?"

-

-"As many of them as are in business, or have won their way to any

-position among men no doubt are there, I suppose," answered Robinette

-straightforwardly. "I think we just guess at people's ancestry by the

-way they look, act, and speak," she continued musingly. "You can

-'guess' quite well if you are clever at it. No Indians or Chinese ever

-dine with me, Miss Smeardon, though I'd rather like a peaceful Indian

-at dinner for a change; but I expect he'd find me very dull and

-uneventful!"

-

-"Dull!--that's a word I very often hear on American lips," broke in

-Lavendar as he looked over the top of Henry Newbolt's poems. "I

-believe being dull is thought a criminal offence in your country. Now,

-isn't there some danger involved in this fear of dullness?"

-

-"I shouldn't wonder," Robinette answered thoughtfully, looking into

-the fire. "Yes; I dare say there is, but I'm afraid there are social

-and mental dangers involved in _not_ being afraid of it, too!" Her

-mischievous eyes swept the room, with Mrs. de Tracy's solemn figure

-and Miss Smeardon's for its bright ornaments. "The moment a person or

-a nation allows itself to be too dull, it ceases to be quite alive,

-doesn't it? But as to us Americans, Mr. Lavendar, bear with us for a

-few years, we are so ridiculously young! It is our growing time, and

-what you want in a young plant is growth, isn't it?"

-

-"Y-yes," Lavendar replied: then with a twinkle in his blue eyes he

-added: "Only somehow we don't like to hear a plant grow! It should

-manage to perform the operation quite silently, showing not processes

-but results. That's a counsel of perfection, perhaps, but don't slay

-me for plain-speaking, Mrs. Loring!"

-

-Robinette laughed. "I'll never slay you for saying anything so wise

-and true as that!" she said, and Lavendar, flushing under her praise,

-was charmed with her good humour.

-

-"America's a very large country, is it not?" enquired Miss Smeardon

-with her usual brilliancy. "What is its area?"

-

-"Bigger than England, but not as big as the British Empire!" suggested

-Carnaby, feeling the conversation was drifting into his ken.

-

-"It's just the size of the moon, I've heard!" said Robinette

-teasingly. "Does that throw any light on the question?"

-

-"Moonlight!" laughed Carnaby, much pleased with his own wit. "Ha! ha!

-That's the first joke I've made this holidays. _Moonlight!_ Jolly

-good!"

-

-"If you'd take a joke a little more in your stride, my son," said

-Lavendar, "we should be more impressed by your mental sparkles."

-

-"Straighten the sofa-cushions, Carnaby," said his grandmother, "and

-don't lounge. I missed the point of your so-called joke entirely. As

-to the size of a country or anything else, I have never understood

-that it affected its quality. In fruit or vegetables, for instance, it

-generally means coarseness and indifferent flavour." Miss Smeardon

-beamed at this palpable hit, but Mrs. Loring deprived the situation of

-its point by backing up Mrs. de Tracy heartily. She had no opinion of

-mere size, either, she declared.

-

-"You don't stand up for your country half enough," objected Carnaby to

-his cousin. ("Why don't you give the old cat beans?" was his

-supplement, _sotto voce_.)

-

-"Just attack some of my pet theories and convictions, Middy dear, if

-you wish to see me in a rage," said Robinette lightly, "but my motto

-will never be 'My country right or wrong.'"

-

-"Nor mine," agreed Lavendar. "I'm heartily with you there."

-

-"It's a great venture we're trying in America. I wish every one would

-try to look at it in that light," said Robinette with a slight flush

-of earnestness.

-

-"What do you mean by a venture?" asked Mrs. de Tracy.

-

-"The experiment we're making in democracy," answered Robinette. "It's

-fallen to us to try it, for of course it simply had to be tried. It

-is thrillingly interesting, whatever it may turn out, and I wish I

-might live to see the end of it. We are creating a race, Aunt de

-Tracy; think of that!"

-

-"It's as difficult for nations as for individuals to hit the happy

-medium," said Lavendar, stirring the fire. "Enterprise carried too far

-becomes vulgar hustling, while stability and conservatism often pass

-the coveted point of repose and degenerate into torpor."

-

-"This part of England seems to me singularly free from faults,"

-interposed Mrs. de Tracy in didactic tones. "We have a wonderful

-climate; more sunshine than in any part of the island, I believe. Our

-local society is singularly free from scandal. The clergy, if not

-quite as eloquent or profound as in London (and in my opinion it is

-the better for being neither) is strictly conscientious. We have no

-burglars or locusts or gnats or even midges, as I'm told they

-unfortunately have in Scotland, and our dinner-parties, though quiet

-and dignified, are never dull.... What is the matter, Robinetta?"

-

-"A sudden catch in my throat," said Robinette, struggling with some

-sort of vocal difficulty and avoiding Lavendar's eye. "Thank you," as

-he offered her a glass of water from the punctual and strictly

-temperate evening tray. "Don't look at me," she added under her

-voice.

-

-"Not for a million of money!" he whispered. Then he said aloud: "If I

-ever stand for Parliament, Mrs. Loring, I should like you to help me

-with my constituency!"

-

-The unruffled temper and sweet reasonableness of Robinette's answers

-to questions by no means always devoid of malice, had struck the young

-man very much, as he listened.

-

-"She is good!" he thought to himself. "Good and sweet and generous.

-Her loveliness is not only in her face; it is in her heart." And some

-favorite lines began to run in his head that night, with new

-conviction:--

-

-                 He that loves a rosy cheek,

-                   Or a coral lip admires,

-                 Or from star-like eyes doth seek

-                   Fuel to maintain his fires,--

-                 As old Time makes these decay,

-                   So his flames will waste away.

-

-                 But a smooth and steadfast mind,

-                   Gentle thoughts and calm desires,

-                 Hearts with equal love combined--

-

-but here Lavendar broke off with a laugh.

-

-"It's not come to that yet!" he thought. "I wonder if it ever will?"

-

-

-

-

-X

-

-A NEW KINSMAN

-

-

-Young Mrs. Loring was making her way slowly at Stoke Revel Manor, and

-Mrs. de Tracy, though never affectionate, treated her with a little

-less indifference as the days went on. "The Admiral's niece is a

-lady," she admitted to herself privately; "not perhaps the highest

-type of English lady; that, considering her mixed ancestry and

-American education, would be too much to expect; but in the broad,

-general meaning of the word, unmistakably a lady!"

-

-Mrs. Benson, though not melting outwardly as yet, held more lenient

-views still with regard to the American guest. Bates, the butler, was

-elderly, and severely Church of England; his knowledge of widows was

-confined to the type ably represented by his mistress and he regarded

-young Mrs. Loring as inclined to be "flighty." The footman, who was

-entirely under the butler's thumb in mundane matters, had fallen into

-the habit of sharing his opinions, and while agreeing in the general

-feeling of flightiness, declared boldly that the lady in question gave

-a certain "style" to the dinner-table that it had lacked before her

-advent.

-

-For a helpless victim, however, a slave bound in fetters of steel, one

-would have to know Cummins, the under housemaid, who lighted Mrs.

-Loring's fire night and morning. She was young, shy, country bred, and

-new to service. When Mrs. Benson sent her to the guest's room at eight

-o'clock on the morning after her arrival she stopped outside the door

-in a panic of fear.

-

-"Come in!" called a cheerful voice. "Come in!"

-

-Cummins entered, bearing her box with brush and cloth and kindlings.

-To her further embarrassment Mrs. Loring was sitting up in bed with an

-ermine coat on, over which her bright hair fell in picturesque

-disorder. She had brought the coat for theatre and opera, but as these

-attractions were lacking at Stoke Revel and as life there was, to her,

-one prolonged Polar expedition, with dashes farthest north morning and

-evening, she had diverted it to practical uses.

-

-"Make me a quick fire please, a big fire, a hot fire," she begged, "or

-I shall be late for breakfast; I never can step into that tin tub till

-the ice is melted."

-

-"There's no ice in it, ma'am," expostulated Cummins gently, with the

-voice of a wood dove.

-

-"You can't see it because you're English," said the strange lady, "but

-I can see it and feel it. Oh, you make _such_ a good fire! What is

-your name, please?"

-

-"Cummins, ma'am."

-

-"There's another Cummins downstairs, but she is tall and large. You

-shall be 'Little Cummins.'"

-

-Now every morning the shy maid palpitated outside the bedroom door,

-having given her modest knock; palpitated for fear it should be all a

-dream. But no, it was not! there would be a clear-voiced "Come in!"

-and then, as she entered; "Good morning, Little Cummins. I've been

-longing for you since daybreak!" A trifle later on it was, "Good

-Little Cummins bearing coals of comfort! Kind Little Cummins," and

-other strange and wonderful terms of praise, until Little Cummins felt

-herself consumed by a passion to which Mrs. de Tracy's coals became as

-less than naught unless they could be heaped on the altar of the

-beloved.

-

-So life went on at Stoke Revel, outwardly even and often dull, while

-in reality many subtle changes were taking place below the surface;

-changes slight in themselves but not without meaning.

-

-Robinette ran up to her room directly after breakfast one morning and

-pinned on her hat as she came downstairs. Mark Lavendar had gone to

-London for a few days, but even the dullness of breakfast-table

-conversation had not robbed her of her joy in the early sunshine, made

-more cheery by the prospect of a walk with Carnaby, with whom she was

-now fast friends.

-

-Carnaby looked at her beamingly as they stood together on the steps.

-"You're the best turned-out woman of my acquaintance," he said

-approvingly, with a laughable struggle for the tone of a middle-aged

-man of the world.

-

-"How many ladies of fashion do you know, my child?" enquired

-Robinetta, pulling on her gloves.

-

-"I see a lot of 'em off and on," Carnaby answered somewhat huffily,

-"and they don't call me a child either!"

-

-"Don't they? Then that's because they're timid and don't dare address

-a future Admiral as Infant-in-Arms! Come on, Middy dear, let's walk."

-

-Robinette wore a white serge dress and jacket, and her hat was a rough

-straw turned up saucily in two places with black owls' heads. Mrs.

-Benson and Little Cummins had looked at it curiously while Robinette

-was at breakfast.

-

-"'Tis black underneath and white on top, Mrs. Benson. 'Ow can that be?

-It looks as if one 'at 'ad been clapped on another!"

-

-"That's what it is, Cummins. It's a double hat; but they'll do

-anything in America. It's a double hat with two black owls' heads, and

-I'll wager they charged double price for it!"

-

-"She's a lovely beauty in anythink and everythink she wears," said

-Little Cummins loyally.

-

-"May I call you 'Cousin Robin'?" Carnaby asked as they walked along.

-"Robinette is such a long name."

-

-"Cousin Robin is very nice, I think," she answered. "As a matter

-of fact I ought to be your Aunt Robin; it would be much more

-appropriate."

-

-"Aunt be blowed!" ejaculated Carnaby.

-

-"You're very fond of making yourself out old, but it's no go! When I

-first heard you were a widow I thought you would be grandmother's

-age,--I say--do you think you will marry another time, Cousin Robin?"

-

-"That's a very leading question for a gentleman to put to a lady! Were

-you intending to ask me to wait for you, Middy dear?" asked Robinette,

-putting her arm in the boy's laughingly, quite unconscious of his

-mood.

-

-"I'd wait quick enough if you'd let me! I'd wait a lifetime! There

-never was anybody like you in the world!"

-

-The words were said half under the boy's breath and the emotion in his

-tone was a complete and disagreeable surprise. Here was something that

-must be nipped in the bud, instantly and courageously. Robinette

-dropped Carnaby's arm and said: "We'll talk that over at once, Middy

-dear, but first you shall race me to the top of the twisting path,

-down past the tulip beds, to the seat under the big ash tree.--Come

-on!"

-

-The two reached the tree in a moment, Carnaby sufficiently in advance

-to preserve his self-respect and with a colour heightened by something

-other than the exercise of running.

-

-"Sit down, first cousin once removed!" said Robinette. "Do you know

-the story of Sydney Smith, who wrote apologizing to somebody for not

-being able to come to dinner? 'The house is full of cousins,' he said;

-'would they were "once removed"!'"

-

-"It's no good telling me literary anecdotes!--You're not treating me

-fairly," said Carnaby sulkily.

-

-"I'm treating you exactly as you should be treated, Infant-in-Arms,"

-Robinette answered firmly. "Give me your two paws, and look me

-straight in the eye."

-

-Carnaby was no coward. His steel-grey eyes blazed as he met his

-cousin's look. "Carnaby dear, do you know what you are to me? You are

-my kinsman; my only male relation. I'm so fond of you already, don't

-spoil it! Think what you can be to me if you will. I am all alone in

-the world and when you grow a little older how I should like to depend

-upon you! I need affection; so do you, dear boy; can't I see how you

-are just starving for it? There is no reason in the world why we

-shouldn't be fond of each other! Oh! how grateful I should be to think

-of a strong young middy growing up to advise me and take me about! It

-was that kind of care and thought of me that was in your mind just

-now!"

-

-"You'll be marrying somebody one of these days," blurted Carnaby,

-wholly moved, but only half convinced. "Then you'll forget all about

-your 'kinsman.'"

-

-"I have no intention in that direction," said Robinette, "but if I

-change my mind I'll consult you first; how will that do?"

-

-"It wouldn't do any good," sighed the boy, "so I'd rather you

-wouldn't! You'd have your own way spite of everything a fellow could

-say against it!"

-

-There was a moment of embarrassment; then the silence was promptly

-broken by Robinette.

-

-"Well, Middy dear, are we the best of friends?" she asked, rising from

-the bench and putting out her hand.

-

-The lad took it and said all in a glow of chivalry, "You're the

-dearest, the best, and the prettiest cousin in the world! You don't

-mind my thinking you're the prettiest?"

-

-"Mind it? I delight in it! I shall come to your ship and pour out tea

-for you in my most fetching frock. Your friends will say: 'Who is that

-particularly agreeable lady, Carnaby?' And you, with swelling chest,

-will respond, 'That's my American cousin, Mrs. Loring. She's a nice

-creature; I'm glad you like her!'"

-

-Robinette's imitation of Carnaby's possible pomposity was so amusing

-and so clever that it drew a laugh from the boy in spite of himself.

-

-"Just let anyone try to call you a 'creature'!" he exclaimed. "He'd

-have me to reckon with! Oh! I am so tired of being a boy! The inside

-of me is all grown up and everybody keeps on looking at the outside

-and thinking I'm just the same as I always was!"

-

-"Dear old Middy, you're quite old enough to be my protector and that

-is what you shall be! Now shall we go in? I want you to stand near by

-while I ask your grandmother a favor."

-

-"She won't do it if she can help it," was Carnaby's succinct reply.

-

-"Oh, I am not sure! Where shall we find her,--in the library?"

-

-"Yes; come along! Get up your circulation; you'll need it!"

-

-"Aunt de Tracy, there is something at Stoke Revel I am very anxious to

-have if you will give it to me," said Robinette, as she came into the

-library a few minutes later.

-

-Mrs. de Tracy looked up from her knitting solemnly. "If it belongs to

-me, I shall no doubt be willing, as I know you would not ask for

-anything out of the common; but I own little here; nearly all is

-Carnaby's."

-

-"This was my mother's," said Robinette. "It is a picture hanging in

-the smoking room; one that was a great favorite of hers, called

-'Robinetta.' Her drawing-master found an Italian artist in London who

-went to the National Gallery and made a copy of the Sir Joshua

-picture, and I was named after it."

-

-"I wish your mother could have been a little less romantic," sighed

-Mrs. de Tracy. "There were such fine old family names she might have

-used: Marcia and Elspeth, and Rosamond and Winifred!"

-

-"I am sorry, Aunt de Tracy. If I had been consulted I believe I should

-have agreed with you. Perhaps when my mother was in America the family

-ties were not drawn as tightly as in the former years?"

-

-"If it was so, it was only natural," said the old lady. "However, if

-you ask Carnaby, and if the picture has no great value, I am sure he

-will wish you to have it, especially if you know it to have been your

-mother's property." Here Carnaby sauntered into the room. "That's all

-right, grandmother," he said, "I heard what you were saying; only I

-wish it was a real Sir Joshua we were giving Cousin Robin instead of a

-copy!"

-

-"Thank you, Carnaby dear, and thank you, too, Aunt de Tracy. You can't

-think how much it is to me to have this; it is a precious link between

-mother's girlhood, and mother, and me." So saying, she dropped a timid

-kiss upon Mrs. de Tracy's iron-grey hair, and left the room.

-

-"If she could live in England long enough to get over that excessive

-freedom of manner, your cousin would be quite a pleasing person, but I

-am afraid it goes too deep to be cured," Mrs. de Tracy remarked as she

-smoothed the hairs that might have been ruffled by Robinette's kiss.

-

-Carnaby made no reply. He was looking out into the garden and feeling

-half a boy, half a man, but wholly, though not very contentedly, a

-kinsman.

-

-

-

-

-XI

-

-THE SANDS AT WESTON

-

-

-"Thursday morning? Is it possible that this is Thursday morning? And I

-must run up to London on Saturday," said Lavendar to himself as he

-finished dressing by the open window. He looked up the day of the week

-in his calendar first, in order to make quite sure of the fact. Yes,

-there was no doubt at all that it was Thursday. His sense of time must

-have suffered some strange confusion; in one way it seemed only an

-hour ago that he had arrived from the clangour and darkness of London

-to the silence of the country, the cuckoos calling across the river

-between the wooded hills, and the April sunshine on the orchard trees;

-in another, years might have passed since the moment when he first saw

-Robinette Loring sitting under Mrs. Prettyman's plum tree.

-

-"Eight days have we spent together in this house, and yet since that

-time when we first crossed in the boat, I've never been more than half

-an hour alone with her," he thought. "There are only three other

-people in the house after all, but they seem to have the power of

-multiplying themselves like the loaves and fishes (only when they're

-not wanted) so that we're eternally in a crowd. That boy particularly!

-I like Carnaby, if he could get it into his thick head that his

-presence isn't always necessary; it must bother Mrs. Loring too; he's

-quite off his head about her if she only knew it. However, it's my

-last day very likely, and if I have to outwit Machiavelli I'll manage

-it somehow! Surely one lame old woman, and a torpid machine for

-knitting and writing notes like Miss Smeardon, can't want to be out of

-doors all day. Hang that boy, though! He'll come anywhere." Here he

-stopped and sat down suddenly at the dressing-table, covering his face

-with his hands in comic despair. "Mrs. Loring can't like it! She must

-be doing it on purpose, avoiding being alone with me because she sees

-I admire her," he sighed. "After all why should I ever suppose that I

-interest her as much as she does me?"

-

-No one could have told from Lavendar's face, when he appeared fresh

-and smiling at the breakfast table half an hour later, that he was

-hatching any deep-laid schemes.

-

-Robinette entered the dining room five minutes late, as usual, pretty

-as a pink, breathless with hurrying. She wore a white dress again,

-with one rose stuck at her waistband, "A little tribute from the

-gardener," she said, as she noticed Lavendar glance at it. She went

-rapidly around the table shaking hands, and gave Carnaby's red cheeks

-a pinch in passing that made Lavendar long to tweak the boy's ear.

-

-"Good morning, all!" she said cheerily, "and how is my first cousin

-once removed? Is he going to Weston with me this morning to buy

-hairpins?"

-

-"He is!" Carnaby answered joyfully, between mouthfuls of bacon and

-eggs. "He has been out of hairpins for a week."

-

-"Does he need tapes and buttons also?" asked Robinette, taking the

-piece of muffin from his hand and buttering it for herself; an act

-highly disapproved of by Mrs. de Tracy, who hurriedly requested Bates

-to pass the bread.

-

-"He needs everything you need," Carnaby said with heightened colour.

-

-"My hair is giving me a good deal of trouble, lately," remarked

-Lavendar, passing his hand over a thickly thatched head.

-

-"I have an excellent American tonic that I will give you after

-breakfast," said Robinette roguishly. "You need to apply it with a

-brush at ten, eleven, and twelve o'clock, sitting in the sun

-continuously between those hours so that the scalp may be well

-invigorated. Carnaby, will you buy me butter scotch and lemonade and

-oranges in Weston?"

-

-"I will, if Grandmother'll increase my allowance," said Carnaby

-malevolently, "for I need every penny I've got in hand for the

-hairpins."

-

-"I hope you are not hungry, Robinetta," said Mrs. de Tracy, "that you

-have to buy food in Weston."

-

-"No, indeed," said Robinette, "I was only longing to test Carnaby's

-generosity and educate him in buying trifles for pretty ladies."

-

-"He can probably be relied on to educate himself in that line when the

-time comes," Mrs. de Tracy remarked; "and now if you have all finished

-talking about hair, I will take up my breakfast again."

-

-"Oh, Aunt de Tracy, I am so sorry if it wasn't a nice subject, but I

-never thought. Anyway I only talked about hairpins; it was Mr.

-Lavendar who introduced hair into the conversation; wasn't it, Middy

-dear?"

-

-Lavendar thought he could have annihilated them both for their open

-comradeship, their obvious delight in each other's society. Was he to

-be put on the shelf like a dry old bachelor? Not he! He would

-circumvent them in some way or another, although the role of

-gooseberry was new to him.

-

-The two young people set off in high spirits, and Mrs. de Tracy and

-Miss Smeardon watched them as they walked down the avenue on their way

-to the station, their clasped hands swinging in a merry rhythm as they

-hummed a bit of the last popular song.

-

-"I hope Robinetta will not Americanize Carnaby," said Mrs. de Tracy.

-"He seems so foolishly elated, so feverishly gay all at once. Her

-manner is too informal; Carnaby requires constant repression."

-

-"Perhaps his temperature has not returned to normal since his attack

-of quinsy," Miss Smeardon observed, reassuringly.

-

-Meanwhile Lavendar sat in Admiral de Tracy's old smoking room for half

-an hour writing letters. Every time that he glanced up from his work,

-and he did so pretty often, his eyes fell on a picture that hung upon

-the opposite wall. It was the copy of Sir Joshua's "Robinetta" made

-long ago and just presented to its namesake.

-

-In the portrait the girl's hair was a still brighter gold; yet

-certainly there was a likeness somewhere about it, he thought; partly

-in the expression, partly in the broad low forehead, and the eyes that

-looked as if they were seeing fairies.

-

-Of course to his mind Mrs. Loring was a hundred times more lovely than

-Sir Joshua's famous girl with a robin. He felt very ill-used because

-Robinette and Carnaby had deliberately gone for an excursion without

-him and had left him toiling over business papers when they had gone

-off to enjoy themselves.

-

-How bright it was out there in the sunshine, to be sure! And why

-should it be Carnaby, not he, who was by this time walking along the

-sea front of Weston, and watching the breeze flutter Robinette's scarf

-and bring a brighter colour to her lips?

-

-There! the last words were written, and taking up his bunch of

-letters, watch in hand, he sought Mrs. de Tracy, and explained that he

-would bicycle to Weston and catch the London post himself.

-

-"I'll send William"--she began; but Lavendar hastily assured her that

-he should enjoy the ride, and hurried off in triumph. Miss Smeardon

-smiled an acid smile as she watched him go. "He has forgotten all

-about poor Miss Meredith, I suppose," she murmured. "Yet it was not so

-long ago that they were supposed to be all in all to each other!"

-

-"It was a foolish engagement, Miss Smeardon," said Mrs. de Tracy in a

-cold voice. "I never thought the girl was suited to Mark, and I

-understand that old Mr. Lavendar was relieved when the whole thing

-came to an end."

-

-"Quite so; certainly; no doubt Miss Meredith would never have made him

-happy," said Miss Smeardon at once, "though it is always more

-agreeable when the lady discovers the fact first. In this case she

-confessed openly that Mr. Lavendar broke her heart with his

-indifference."

-

-"She was an ill-bred young woman," said Mrs. de Tracy, as if the

-subject were now closed. "However, I hope that the son of my family

-solicitor would think it only proper to pay a certain amount of

-attention to the Admiral's niece, were she ever so obnoxious to him."

-

-Miss Smeardon made no audible reply, but her thoughts were to the

-effect that never was an obnoxious duty performed by any man with a

-better grace.

-

-The sea front at Weston was the most prosaic scene in the world, a

-long esplanade with an asphalt path running its full length, and ugly

-jerrybuilt houses glaring out upon it, a gimcrack pier with a

-gingerbread sort of band-stand and glass house at the end;--all that

-could have been done to ruin nature had been determinedly done there.

-But you cannot ruin a spring day, nor youth, nor the colour of the

-sea. Along the level shore, the placid waves swept and broke, and then

-gathered up their white skirts, and retreated to return with the same

-musical laugh. Children and dogs played about on the wet sands. The

-wind blew freshly and the sea stretched all one pure blue, till it met

-on the horizon with the bluer skies.

-

-Weston seemed to Lavendar a very fresh and delightful spot at

-that moment, although had he been in a different mood its sordidness

-only would have struck him. Yes, there they were in the distance;

-he knew Robinette's white dress and the figure of the boy beside

-her. Hang that boy! Were they really going to buy hairpins? If

-so, then a hair-dresser's he must find. Lavendar turned up the

-little street that led from the sea-front, scanning all the

-signs--Boots--Dairies--Vegetable shops--Heavens! were there

-nothing but vegetable and boot shops in Weston? Boots again. At last

-a Hairdresser; Lavendar stood in the doorway until he made sure

-that Robinette and the middy had turned in that direction, and

-then he boldly entered the shop.

-

-To his horror he found himself confronted by a smiling young woman,

-whose own very marvellous erection of hair made him think she must be

-used as an advertisement for the goods she supplied.

-

-In another moment Robinette and the boy would be upon him, and he must

-be found deep in fictitious business. He cast one agonized glance at

-the mysteries of the toilet that surrounded him on every side, then

-clearing his throat, he said modestly but firmly, that he wanted to

-buy a pair of curling tongs for a lady.

-

-"These are the thing if you wish a Marcel wave," was the reply, "but

-just for an ordinary crimp we sell a good many of the plain ones."

-

-"Yes, thank you. They will do; the lady--my sister, also wished--"

-

-"A little 'addition,' was it, sir?" she moved smilingly to a drawer.

-"A few pin curls are very easily adjusted, or would our guinea

-switch--"

-

-At this moment the boy and Robinette entered the shop. Lavendar was

-paying for the curling tongs, and not a muscle of his face relaxed.

-"Oh, here you are. I have just finished my business," he said, turning

-round, "I thought we might encounter one another somewhere!"

-

-Robinette and Carnaby exchanged knowing glances of which Lavendar was

-perfectly conscious, but he stood by while Mrs. Loring bought her

-hairpins, and Carnaby endeavoured to persuade her to invest in a few

-"pin curls." "Not an hour before it is absolutely necessary, Middy

-dear," she said; "then I shall bear it as bravely as I can. Come now,

-carry the hairpins for me, and let me take Mr. Lavendar out of this

-shop, or he will be tempted to buy more than he needs."

-

-"Oh, no!" Lavendar remarked pointedly. "I have what I came for!"

-

-"Don't forget your parcel," Carnaby exclaimed, darting after Lavendar

-as they went into the street. "You've left it on the counter."

-

-"How careless!" said Mark. "It was for my sister."

-

-"You never told me you had a sister," said Robinette, as they walked

-together, Lavendar wheeling his bicycle and Carnaby sulking behind

-them.

-

-"I am blessed with two; one married now; the other, my sister Amy,

-lives at home."

-

-"Well, you see, in spite of all our questions the first time we met,

-we really know very little about each other," she went on lightly. "It

-takes such a long time to get thoroughly acquainted in this country.

-Do they ever count you a friend if you do not know all their aunts and

-second cousins?"

-

-Lavendar laughed. "Willingly would I introduce you to my aunts and my

-uttermost cousins, and lay the map of my life before you, uneventful

-as it has been, if that would further our acquaintance."

-

-Even as he spoke a hateful memory darted into his thoughts, and he

-reddened to his temples, until Mrs. Loring wondered if she had said

-anything to annoy him.

-

-Some fortunate accident at this point ordered that Carnaby should

-meet a friend, another middy about his own age, and they set off

-together in quest of a third boy who was supposed to be in the near

-neighbourhood.

-

-As soon as the lads were out of sight Lavendar found the jests they

-had been bandying together die on his lips. "I'm going down deeper; I

-shall be out of my depth very soon," he thought to himself, as he

-walked in silence by Robinette's side.

-

-"Let us come down to the beach again; we can't go to the station for

-half an hour yet," she said. "I like to look out to sea, and realize

-that if I sailed long enough I could step off that pier, and arrive in

-America."

-

-They stood by the sea-wall together with the fresh wind playing on

-their faces. "Isn't it curious," said Robinette, "how instinctively

-one always turns to look at the sea; inland may be ever so lovely, but

-if the sea is there we generally look in that direction."

-

-"Because it is unbounded, like the future," said Lavendar. He was

-looking as he spoke at some children playing on the sands just

-beside them. There was a gallant little boy among them with a bare

-curly head, who refused help from older sisters and was toiling away

-at his sand castle, his whole soul in his work; throwing up

-spadefuls--tremendous ones for four years old--upon its ramparts,

-as if certain they could resist the advancing tide.

-

-"What a noble little fellow!" exclaimed Robinette, catching the

-direction of Lavendar's glance. "Isn't he splendid? toiling like that;

-stumping about on those fat brown legs!"

-

-"How beautiful to have a child like that, of one's own!" thought

-Lavendar as he looked. On the sands around them, there were numbers of

-such children playing there in the sun. It seemed a happy world to him

-at the moment.

-

-Suddenly he saw his companion turn quickly aside; a nurse in uniform

-came towards them pushing, not a happy crooning baby this time, but a

-little emaciated wisp of a child lying back wearily in a wheel chair.

-Something in Robinette's face, or perhaps the bit of fluttering lace

-she wore upon her white dress, had attracted its notice, and it

-stretched out two tiny skeleton hands towards her as it passed. With a

-quick gesture, brushing tears away that in a moment had rushed to her

-eyes, young Mrs. Loring stepped forward, and put her fingers into the

-wasted hands that were held out to her. She hung above the child for a

-moment, a radiant figure, her face shining with sympathy and a sort of

-heavenly kindness; her eyes the sweeter for their tears.

-

-"What is it, darling?" she asked. "Oh, it's the bright rose!" Then she

-hurriedly unfastened the flower from her waist-belt and turned to

-Lavendar. "Will you please take your penknife and scrape away all the

-little thorns," she asked.

-

-"The rose looked very charming where it was," he remarked, half

-regretfully, as he did what she commanded.

-

-"It will look better still, presently," she answered.

-

-The child's hands were outstretched longingly to grasp the flower, its

-eyes, unnaturally deep and wise with pain, were fixed upon Robinette's

-face. She bent over the chair, and her voice was like a dove's voice,

-Lavendar thought, as she spoke. Then the little melancholy carriage

-was wheeled away. Motherhood always seemed the most sacred, the

-supreme experience to Robinette; a thing high and beautiful like the

-topmost blooms of Nurse Prettyman's plum tree. "If one had to choose

-between that sturdy boy and this wistful wraith, it would be hard,"

-she thought. "All my pride would run out to the boy, but I could die

-for love and pity if this suffering baby were mine!"

-

-Lavendar had turned, and leaned on the wall with averted face. "Sweet

-woman!" he was saying to himself. "It is more than a merry heart that

-is able to give such sympathy; it's a sad old world after all where

-such things can be; but a woman like that can bring good out of

-evil."

-

-Robinette had seated herself on a low wall beside him. Her little

-embroidered futility of a handkerchief was in her hand once more. "A

-rose and a smile! that's all we could give it," she said; "and we

-would either of us share some of that burden if we only could." She

-watched the merry, healthy children playing beside them, and added,

-"After all let us comfort ourselves that brown cheeks and fat legs are

-in the majority. Rightness somehow or other must be at the root of

-things, or we shouldn't be a living world at all."

-

-"Amen," said Lavendar, "but the sight of suffering innocents like

-that, sometimes makes me wish I were dead."

-

-"Dead!" she echoed. "Why, it makes me wish for a hundred lives, a

-hundred hearts and hands to feel with and help with."

-

-"Ah, some women are made that way. My stepmother, the only mother I've

-known, was like that," Lavendar went on, dropping suddenly again into

-personal talk, as they had done before. He and she, it seemed, could

-not keep barriers between them very long; every hour they spent

-together brought them more strangely into knowledge of each other's

-past.

-

-"She was a fine woman," he went on, "with a certain comfortable

-breadth about her, of mind and body; and those large, warm, capable

-hands that seem so fitted to lift burdens."

-

-Lavendar was in an absent-minded mood, and never much given to noting

-details at any time. He bent over on the low wall in retrospective

-silence, looking at the blue sea before them.

-

-Robinette, who was perched beside him, spread her two small hands on

-her white serge knees and regarded them fixedly for a moment.

-

-"I wonder if it's a matter of size," she said after a moment. "I

-wonder! Let's be confidential. When I was a little girl we were not at

-all well-to-do, and my hands were very busy. My father's success came

-to him only two or three years before his death, when his reputation

-began to grow and his plans for great public buildings began to be

-accepted, so I was my mother's helper. We had but one servant, and I

-learned to make beds, to dust, to wipe dishes, to make tea and coffee,

-and to cook simple dishes. If Admiral de Tracy's sister had to work,

-Admiral de Tracy's niece was certainly going to help! Later on came my

-father's illness and death. We had plenty of servants then, but my

-hands had learned to be busy. I gave him his medicines, I changed his

-pillows, I opened his letters and answered such of them as were within

-my powers, I fanned him, I stroked his aching head. The end came, and

-mother and I had hardly begun to take hold of life again when her

-health failed. I wasn't enough for her; she needed father and her face

-was bent towards him. My hands were busy again for months, and they

-held my mother's when she died. Time went on. Then I began again to

-make a home out of a house; to use my strength and time as a good wife

-should, for the comfort of her husband; but oh! so faultily, for I was

-all too young and inexperienced. It was only for a few months, then

-death came into my life for the third time, and I was less than

-twenty. For the first time since I can remember, my hands are idle,

-but it will not be for long. I want them to be busy always. I want

-them to be full! I want them to be tired! I want them ready to do the

-tasks my head and heart suggest."

-

-Lavendar had a strong desire to take those same hands in his and kiss

-them, but instead he rose and spread out his own long brown fingers on

-the edge of the wall, a man's hands, fine and supple, but meant to

-work.

-

-"I seem to have done nothing," he exclaimed. "You look so young, so

-irresponsible, so like a bird on a bough, that I cannot associate dull

-care with you, yet you have lived more deeply than I. Life seems to

-have touched me on the shoulder and passed me by; these hands of mine

-have never done a real day's work, Mrs. Loring, for they've been the

-servants of an unwilling brain. I hated my own work as a younger man,

-and, though I hope I did not shirk it, I certainly did nothing that I

-could avoid." He paused, and went on slowly, "I've thought sometimes,

-of late I mean, that if life is to be worth much, if it is to be real

-life, and not mere existence, one must put one's whole heart into it,

-and that two people--" He stopped; he was silent with embarrassment,

-conscious of having said too much.

-

-"Can help each other. Indeed they can," Mrs. Loring went on serenely,

-"if they have the same ideals. Hardly anyone, fortunately, is so alone

-as I, and so I have to help myself! Your sisters, now; don't they

-help?"

-

-"Not a great deal," Lavendar confessed. "One would, but she's married

-and in India, worse luck! The other is--well, she's a candid sister."

-He laughed, and looked up. "If my best friend could hear my sister

-Amy's view of me, just have a little sketch of me by Amy without fear

-or favour, he, or she, would never have a very high opinion of me

-again, and I am not sure but that I should agree with her."

-

-"Nonsense! my dear friend," exclaimed Robinette in a maternal tone she

-sometimes affected,--a tone fairly agonizing to Mark Lavendar; "we

-should never belittle the stuff that's been put into us! My equipment

-isn't particularly large, but I am going to squeeze every ounce of

-power from it before I die."

-

-"Life is extraordinarily interesting to you, isn't it?"

-

-"Interesting? It is thrilling! So will it be to you when you make up

-your mind to squeeze it," said Robinette, jumping off the wall. "There

-is Carnaby signalling; it is time we went to the station."

-

-"Life would thrill me considerably more if Carnaby were not eternally

-in evidence," said Lavendar, but Robinette pretended not to hear.

-

-

-

-

-XII

-

-LOVE IN THE MUD

-

-

-The next day Robinette was once more sitting in the boat opposite to

-Lavendar as he rowed. They were going down the river this time, not

-across it. Somehow they had managed that afternoon to get out by

-themselves, which sounds very simple, but is a wonderfully difficult

-thing to accomplish when there is no special reason for it, and when

-there are several other people in the house.

-

-Fortunately Mrs. de Tracy did not like to be alone, so that wherever

-she went Miss Smeardon had to go too, and there happened to be a sale

-of work at a neighbouring vicarage that afternoon where she considered

-her presence a necessity. Robinette had vanished soon after luncheon

-and the middy had been dull, so after loitering around for a while, he

-too had disappeared upon some errand of his own. Lavendar walked very

-slowly toward the avenue gateway, then he turned and came back. He

-could scarcely believe his good fortune when he saw Mrs. Loring come

-out of the house, and pause at the door as if uncertain of her next

-movements. She looked uncommonly lovely in a white frock with touches

-of blue, while the ribbon in her hair brought out all its gold. She

-wore a flowery garden hat, and a pair of dainty most un-English shoes

-peeped from beneath her short skirt.

-

-"Are you going out, or can I take you on the river?" Lavendar asked,

-trying without much success to conceal the eagerness that showed in

-his voice and eyes.

-

-Robinette stood for a moment looking at him (it seemed as if she read

-him like a book) and then she said frankly, "Why yes, there is nothing

-I should like so much, but where is Carnaby?"

-

-"Hang Carnaby! I mean I don't know, or care. I've had too much of his

-society to-day to be pining for it now."

-

-"Well, he does chatter like a magpie, but I feel he must have such a

-dull time here with no one anywhere near his own age. Elderly as I am,

-I seem a bit nearer than Aunt de Tracy or Miss Smeardon. Aunt de

-Tracy, all the same, will never understand my relations with that boy,

-or with anyone else for that matter. I did try so hard," she went on,

-"when I first arrived, just to strike the right note with her, and

-I've missed it all the time, by that very fact, no doubt. I'm so

-unused to trying--at home."

-

-"You mean in America?"

-

-"Yes, of course; I don't try there at all, and yet my friends seem to

-understand me."

-

-"Does it seem to you that you could ever call England 'home'?"

-

-"I could not have believed that England would so sink into my heart,"

-she said, sitting down in the doorway and arranging the flowers on her

-hat. "During those first dull wet days when I was still a stranger,

-and when I looked out all the time at the dripping cedars, and felt

-whenever I opened my lips that I said the wrong thing, it seemed to me

-I should never be gay for an hour in this country; but the last

-enchanting sunny days have changed all that. I remember it's my

-mother's country, and if only I could have found a little affection

-waiting for me, all would have been perfect."

-

-"You may find it yet." Lavendar could not for the life of him help

-saying the words, but there was nothing in the tone in which he said

-them to make Robinette conscious of his meaning.

-

-"I'm afraid not," she sighed, thinking of Mrs. de Tracy's indifference.

-"I'm much more American than English, much more my father's daughter

-than the Admiral's niece; perhaps my aunt feels that instinctively. Now

-I must slip upstairs and change if we are going boating."

-

-"Never!" cried Lavendar. "If I don't snatch you this moment from the

-devouring crowd I shall lose you! I will keep you safe and dry, never

-fear, and we shall be back well before dark."

-

-They went down the river after leaving the little pier, passing the

-orchards heaped on the hillsides above Wittisham, and Lavendar wanted

-to row out to sea, but Robinette preferred the river; so he rowed

-nearer to the shore, where the current was less swift, and the boat

-rocked and drifted with scarcely a touch of the oars. They had talked

-for some time, and then a silence had fallen, which Robinette broke by

-saying, "I half wish you'd forsake the law and follow lines of lesser

-resistance, Mr. Lavendar. Do you know, you seem to me to be drifting,

-not rowing! I've been thinking ever since of what you said to me on

-the sands at Weston."

-

-"Ungrateful woman!" he exclaimed, trying to evade the subject, "when

-these two faithful arms have been at your service every day since we

-first met! Think of the pennies you would have taken from that tiny

-gold purse of yours for the public ferry! However, I know what you

-mean; I never met anyone so plain-spoken as you, Mrs. Robin; I haven't

-forgotten, I assure you!"

-

-"How about the candid sister? Isn't she plain-spoken?"

-

-"Oh, she attacks the outside of the cup and platter; you question

-motive power and ideals. Well, I confess I have less of the former

-than I ought, and more of the latter than I've ever used." Lavendar

-had rested on his oars now and was looking down, so that the twinkle

-of his eyes was lost. "I suppose I shall go on as I have done

-hitherto, doing my work in a sort of a way, and getting a certain

-amount of pleasure out of things,--unless--"

-

-"Oh, but that's not living!" she exclaimed; "that's only existing.

-Don't you remember:--

-

-                   It is not growing like a tree

-                   In bulk doth make man better be.

-

-It's really _living_ I mean, forgetting the things that are behind,

-and going on and on to something ahead, whatever one's aim may be."

-

-"What are you going to do with yourself, if I may ask?" said Lavendar.

-"Don't be too philanthropic, will you? You're so delightfully

-symmetrical now!"

-

-"I shall have plenty to do," cried Robinette ardently. "I've told you

-before, I have so much motive power that I don't know how to use it."

-

-"How about sharing a little of it with a friend!"

-

-Lavendar's voice was full of meaning, but Robinette refused to hear

-it. She had succumbed as quickly to his charm as he to hers, but while

-she still had command over her heart she did not intend parting with

-it unless she could give it wholly. She knew enough of her own nature

-to recognize that she longed for a rowing, not a drifting mate, and

-that nothing else would content her; but her instinct urged that

-Lavendar's indecisions and his uncertainties of aim were accidents

-rather than temperamental weaknesses. She suspected that his

-introspective moods and his occasional lack of spirits had a definite

-cause unknown to her.

-

-"I haven't a large income," she said, after a moment's silence,

-changing the subject arbitrarily, and thereby reducing her companion

-to a temporary state of silent rage.

-

-"Yet no one would expect a woman like this to fall like a ripe plum

-into a man's mouth," he thought presently; "she will drop only when

-she has quite made up her mind, and the bough will need a good deal of

-shaking!"

-

-"I haven't a large income," repeated Robinette, while Lavendar was

-silent, "only five thousand dollars a year, which is of course

-microscopic from the American standpoint and cost of living; so I

-can't build free libraries and swimming baths and playgrounds, or do

-any big splendid things; but I can do dear little nice ones, left

-undone by city governments and by the millionaires. I can sing, and

-read, and study; I can travel; and there are always people needing

-something wherever you are, if you have eyes to see them; one needn't

-live a useless life even if one hasn't any responsibilities. But"--she

-paused--"I've been talking all this time about my own plans and

-ambitions, and I began by asking yours! Isn't it strange that the

-moment one feels conscious of friendship, one begins to want to know

-things?"

-

-"My sister Amy would tell you I had no ambitions, except to buy as

-many books as I wish, and not to have to work too hard," said Mark

-smiling, "but I think that would not be quite true. I have some, of a

-dull inferior kind, not beautiful ones like yours."

-

-"Do tell me what they are."

-

-He shook his head. "I couldn't; they're not for show; shabby things

-like unsuccessful poor relations, who would rather not have too much

-notice taken of them. In a few weeks I am going to drag them out of

-their retreat, brighten them up, inject some poetry into their veins,

-and then display them to your critical judgment."

-

-They were almost at a standstill now and neither of them was noticing

-it at all. As Mrs. Loring moved her seat the boat lurched somewhat to

-one side. Mark, to steady her, placed his hand over hers as it rested

-on the rail, and she did not withdraw it. Then he found the other hand

-that lay upon her knee, and took it in his own, scarcely knowing what

-he did. He looked into her face and found no anger there. "I wish to

-tell you more about myself," he stammered, "something not altogether

-creditable to me; but perhaps you will understand. Perhaps even if you

-don't understand you will forgive."

-

-She drew her hands gently away from his grasp. "I shall try to

-understand, you may rely on that!" she said.

-

-"I'm not going to trouble you with any very dreadful confessions," he

-said, "only it's better to hear things directly from the people

-concerned, and you are sure to hear a wrong version sooner or

-later."--Then stopping suddenly he exclaimed, "Hullo! we're stuck, I

-declare! look at that!"

-

-Robinette turned and saw that their boat was now scarcely surrounded

-with water at all. On every side, as if the flanks of some great whale

-were upheaving from below, there appeared stretches of glistening mud.

-Just in front of them, where there still was a channel of water, was

-an upstanding rock. "Shall we row quickly there?" she cried. "Then

-perhaps we can get out and pull the boat to the other side, where

-there is more water. What has happened?"

-

-"Oh, something not unusual," said Lavendar grimly, "that I'm a fool,

-and the sea-tide has ebbed, as tides have been known to do before. I'm

-afraid a man doesn't watch tides when he has a companion like you! Now

-we're left high, but not at all dry, as you see, till the tide

-turns."

-

-By a swift stroke or two he managed to propel their craft as far as

-the rock. They scrambled up on it, and then he tried to haul the boat

-around the miniature islet; but the more he hauled, the quicker the

-water seemed to run away, and the deeper the wretched thing stuck in

-the mud. He jumped in again, and made an effort to push her off with

-an oar; meanwhile Robinette nearly fell off the rock in her efforts to

-get the head of the boat around towards the current again, and making

-a frantic plunge into the ooze, sank above her ankles in an instant.

-Lavendar caught hold of her and helped her to scramble back into the

-boat. "It's all right; only my skirt wet, and one shoe gone!" she

-panted. "Now, what are we to do?" She spread out her hands in dismay,

-and looked down at her draggled mud-stained skirt, her little feet,

-one shoeless and both covered with mud and slime. "What an object I

-shall be to meet Aunt de Tracy's eye, when, if ever, it does light on

-me again! Meanwhile it seems as if we might be here for some hours.

-The boat is just settling herself into the mud bank, like a rather

-tired fat old woman into an armchair, and pray, Mr. Lavendar, what do

-you propose to do? as Talleyrand said to the lady who told him she

-couldn't bear it."

-

-Lavendar looked about them; the main bed of the river was fifty yards

-away; between it and them was now only an expanse of mud.

-

-"It's perfectly hopeless," he said, "the best thing we can do is to

-beget some philosophy."

-

-"Which at any moment we would exchange for a foot of water," she

-interpolated.

-

-"We must just sit here and wait for the tide. Shall it be in the boat

-or on the rock?"

-

-"I don't see much difference, do you? Except that the passing boats,

-if there are any, might think it was a matter of choice to sit on a

-damp rock for two hours, but no one could think we wanted to sit in a

-boat in the mud."

-

-They landed on the rock for the second time. "For my part it's no

-great punishment," said Lavendar, when they settled themselves, "since

-the place is big enough for two and you're one of them!"

-

-"Wouldn't this be as good a stool of repentance from which to confess

-your faults as any?" asked Robinette, as she tucked her shoeless foot

-beneath her mud-stained skirt and made herself as comfortable as

-possible. "I'll even offer a return of confidence upon my own

-weaknesses, if I can find them, but at present only miles of virtue

-stretch behind me. Ugh! How the mud smells; quite penitential! Now:--

-

-            "What have you sought you should have shunned,

-            And into what new follies run?"

-

-"Oh, what a bad rhyme!" said Lavendar.

-

-"It's Pythagoras, any way," she explained.

-

-Then suddenly changing his tone, Lavendar went on. "This is not merely

-a jest, Mrs. Loring. Before you admit me really amongst the number of

-your friends I should like you to know that--to put it plainly--my

-own little world would tell you at the moment that I am a heartless

-jilt."

-

-"That is a very ugly expression, Mr. Lavendar, and I shall choose not

-to believe it, until you give me your own version of the story."

-

-"In one way I can give you no other; except that I was just fool

-enough to drift into an engagement with a woman whom I did not really

-love, and just not enough of a fool to make both of us miserable for

-life when I, all too late, found out my mistake."

-

-There passed before him at that moment other foolish blithe little

-loves, like faded flowers with the sweetness gone out of them. They

-had been so innocent, so fragile, so free from blame; all but the

-last; and this last it was that threatened to rise like a shadow

-perhaps, and defeat his winning the only woman he could ever love.

-

-Robinette stared at the stretches of ooze, and then stole a look at

-Mark Lavendar. "The idea of calling that man a jilt," she thought.

-"Look at his eyes; look at his mouth; listen to his voice; there is

-truth in them all. Oh for a sight of the girl he jilted! How much it

-would explain! No, not altogether, because the careless making of his

-engagement would have to be accounted for, as well as the breaking of

-it. Unless he did it merely to oblige her--and men are such idiots

-sometimes,--then he must have fancied he was in love with her. Perhaps

-he is continually troubled with those fancies. Nonsense! you believe

-in him, and you know you do." Then aloud she said, sympathetically,

-"I'm afraid we are apt to make these little experimental journeys in

-youth, when the heart is full of _wanderlust_. We start out on them so

-lightly, then they lead nowhere, and the walking back alone is

-wearisome and depressing."

-

-"My return journey was depressing enough at first," said Lavendar,

-"because the particular She was unkinder to me than I deserved even;

-but better counsels have prevailed and I shall soon be able to meet

-the reproachful gaze of stout matrons and sour spinsters more easily

-than I have for a year past; you see the two families were friends and

-each family had a large and interested connection!"

-

-"If the opinion of a comparative stranger is of any use to you," said

-Robinette, standing on the rock and scraping her stockinged foot free

-of mud, "_I_ believe in you, personally! You don't seem a bit 'jilty'

-to me! I'd let you marry my sister to-morrow and no questions asked!"

-

-"I didn't know you had a sister," cried Lavendar.

-

-"I haven't; that's only a figure of speech; just a phrase to show my

-confidence."

-

-"And isn't it ungrateful to be obliged to say I can't marry your

-sister, after you have given me permission to ask her!"

-

-"Not only ungrateful but unreasonable," said Robinette saucily,

-turning her head to look up the river and discovering from her point

-of vantage a moving object around the curve that led her to make

-hazardous remarks, knowing rescue was not far away. "What have you

-against my sister, pray?"

-

-"Very little!" he said daringly, knowing well that she held him in her

-hand, and could make him dumb or let him speak at any moment she

-desired. "Almost nothing! only that _she_ is not offering me _her_

-sister as a balm to my woes."

-

-"She _has_ no sister; she is an only child!--There! there!" cried

-Robinette, "the tide is coming up again, and the mud banks off in that

-direction are all covered with water! I see somebody in a boat, rowing

-towards us with superhuman energy. Oh! if I hadn't worn a white dress!

-It will _not_ come smooth; and my lovely French hat is ruined by the

-dampness! My one shoe shows how inappropriately I was shod, and

-whoever is coming will say it is because I am an American. He will

-never know you wouldn't let me go upstairs and dress properly."

-

-"It doesn't matter anyway," rejoined Mark, "because it is only Carnaby

-coming. You might know he would find us even if we were at the bottom

-of the river."

-

-

-

-

-XIII

-

-CARNABY TO THE RESCUE

-

-

-At Stoke Revel, in the meantime, the solemn rites of dinner had been

-inaugurated as usual by the sounding of the gong at seven o'clock.

-Mrs. de Tracy, Miss Smeardon, and Bates waited five minutes in silent

-resignation, then Carnaby came down and was scolded for being late,

-but there was no Robinette and no Lavendar.

-

-"Carnaby," said his grandmother, "do you know where Mark intended

-going this afternoon?"

-

-"No, I don't," said Carnaby, sulkily.

-

-"Your cousin Robinetta,"--with meaning,--"perhaps you know her

-whereabouts?"

-

-"Not I!" replied Carnaby with affected nonchalance. "I was ferreting

-with Wilson." He had ferreted perhaps for fifteen minutes and then

-spent the rest of the afternoon in solitary discontent, but he would

-not have owned it for the world.

-

-"Call Bates," commanded Mrs. de Tracy. Bates entered. "Do you know if

-Mr. Lavendar intended going any distance to-day? Did he leave any

-message?"

-

-"Mr. Lavendar, ma'am," said Bates, "Mr. Lavendar and Mrs. Loring they

-went out in the boat after tea. Mr. Lavendar asked William for the

-key, and William he went down and got out the oars and rudder,

-ma'am."

-

-"Does William know where they went?" asked Mrs. de Tracy in high

-displeasure. "Was it to Wittisham?"

-

-"No, ma'am, William says they went down stream. He thinks perhaps they

-were going to the Flag Rock, and he says the gentleman wouldn't have a

-hard pull, as the tide was going out. But Mr. Lavendar knows the river

-well, ma'am, as well as Mr. Carnaby here."

-

-"Then I conclude there is no immediate cause for anxiety," said Mrs.

-de Tracy with satire. "You can serve dinner, Bates; there seems no

-reason why we should fast as yet! However, Carnaby," she continued,

-"as the men cannot be spared at this hour, you had better go at once

-and see what has happened to our guests."

-

-"Right you are," cried Carnaby with the utmost alacrity. He was

-hungry, but the prospect of escape was better than food. He rushed

-away, and his boat was in mid-river before Mrs. de Tracy and Miss

-Smeardon had finished their tepid soup.

-

-A very slim young moon was just rising above the woods, but her tender

-light cast no shadows as yet, and there were no stars in the sky, for

-it was daylight still. The evening air was very fresh and cool; there

-was no wind, and the edges of the river were motionless and smooth,

-although in mid-stream the now in-coming tide clucked and swirled as

-it met the rush. Over at Wittisham one or two lights were beginning to

-twinkle, and there came drifting across the water a smell of wood

-smoke that suggested evening fires. Carnaby handled a boat well, for

-he had been born a sailor, as it were, and his long, powerful strokes

-took him along at a fine pace. But although he was going to look for

-Robinette and Mark, he was rather angry with both of them, and in no

-hurry. He rested on his oars indifferently and let the tide carry him

-up as it liked, while, with infinite zest, he unearthed a cigarette

-case from the recesses of his person, lit a cigarette, and smoked it

-coolly. Under Carnaby's apparent boyishness, there was a certain

-somewhat dangerous quality of precocity, which was stimulated rather

-than checked by his grandmother's repressive system. His smoking now

-was less the monkey-trick of a boy, than an act of slightly cynical

-defiance. He was no novice in the art, and smoked slowly and daintily,

-throwing back his head and blowing the smoke sometimes through his

-lips and sometimes through his nose. He looked for the moment older

-than his years, and a difficult young customer at that. His present

-sulky expression disappeared, however, under the influence of tobacco

-and adventure.

-

-"Where the dickens are they?" he began to wonder, pulling harder.

-

-A bend in the river presently solved the mystery. On a wide stretch of

-mud-bank, which the tide had left bare in going out, but was now

-beginning to cover again, a solitary boat was stranded.

-

-With this clue to guide him, Carnaby's bright eyes soon discovered the

-two dim forms in the distance.

-

-"Ahoy!" he shouted, and received a joyous answer. Robinette and Mark

-were the two derelicts, and their rescuer skimmed towards them with

-all his strength.

-

-He could get only within a few yards of the rock to which their boat

-was tied, and from that distance he surveyed them, expecting to find a

-dismal, ship-wrecked pair, very much ashamed of themselves and

-getting quite weary of each other. On the contrary the faces he could

-just distinguish in the uncertain light, were radiant, and Robinette's

-voice was as gay as ever he had heard it. He leaned upon his oars and

-looked at them with wonder.

-

-"Angel cousin!" cried Robinette. "Have you a little roast mutton about

-you somewhere, we are so hungry!"

-

-"You _are_ a pretty pair!" he remarked. "What have you been and

-done?"

-

-"We just went for a row after tea, Middy dear," said Robinette, "and

-look at the result."

-

-"You're not rowing now," observed Carnaby pointedly.

-

-"No," said Mark, "we gave up rowing when the water left us, Carnaby.

-Conversation is more interesting in the mud."

-

-"But how did you get here? I thought you were going to the Flag Rock?"

-demanded Carnaby.

-

-"Is there a Flag Rock, Middy dear? I didn't know," said Robinette

-innocently. "It shows we shouldn't go anywhere without our first

-cousin once removed. We just began to talk, here in the boat, and the

-water went away and left us." Then she laughed, and Mark laughed too,

-and Carnaby's look of unutterable scorn seemed to have no effect upon

-them. They might almost have been laughing at him, their mirth was so

-senseless, viewed in any other light.

-

-"It's nearly eight o'clock," he said solemnly. "Perhaps you can form

-some idea as to what grandmother's saying, and Bates."

-

-"Well, you're going to be our rescuer, Middy darling, so it doesn't

-matter," said Robinette. "Look! the water's coming up."

-

-But Carnaby seemed in no mood for waiting. He had taken off his boots,

-and rolled up his trousers above his knees.

-

-"I'd let Lavendar wade ashore the best way he could!" he said, "but I

-s'pose I've got to save you or there'd be a howl."

-

-"No one would howl any louder than you, dear, and you know it. Don't

-step in!" shrieked Robinette, "I've confided a shoe already to the

-river-mud! I just put my foot in a bit, to test it, and down the poor

-foot went and came up without its shoe. Oh, Middy dear, if your young

-life--"

-

-"Blow my young life!" retorted Carnaby. He was performing gymnastics

-on the edge of his boat, letting himself down and heaving himself up,

-by the strength of his arms. His legs were covered with mud.

-

-"No go!" he said. "It's as deep as the pit here; sometimes you can

-find a rock or a hard bit. We must just wait."

-

-They had not long to wait after all, for presently a rush of the tide

-sent the water swirling round the stranded boat, and carried Carnaby's

-craft to it.

-

-"Now it'll be all right," said he. "You push with the boat-hook, Mark,

-and I'll pull"; but it took a quarter of an hour's pushing and pulling

-to get the boat free of the mud.

-

-Except for the moon it would have been quite dark when the party

-reached the pier. They mounted the hill in some silence. It was

-difficult for Robinette to get along with her shoeless foot; Lavendar

-wanted to help her, but she demanded Carnaby's arm. He was sulking

-still. There was something he felt, but could not understand, in the

-subtle atmosphere of happiness by which the truant couple seemed to be

-surrounded; a something through which he could not reach; that seemed

-to put Robinette at a distance from him, although her shoulder touched

-his and her hand was on his arm. Growing pangs of his manhood assailed

-him, the male's jealousy of the other male. For the moment he hated

-Mark; Mark talking joyous nonsense in a way rather unlike himself, as

-if the night air had gone to his head.

-

-"I am glad you had the ferrets to amuse you this afternoon," said

-Robinette, in a propitiatory tone. "Ferrets are such darlings, aren't

-they, with their pink eyes?"

-

-"O! _darlings_," assented Carnaby derisively. "One of the darlings

-bit my finger to the bone, not that that's anything to you."

-

-"Oh! Middy dear, I am sorry!" cried Robinette. "I'd kiss the place to

-make it well, if we weren't in such a hurry!"

-

-Carnaby began to find that a dignified reserve of manner was very

-difficult to keep up. His grandmother could manage it, he reflected,

-but he would need some practice. When they came to a place where there

-were sharp stones strewn on the road, he became a mere boy again quite

-suddenly, and proposed a "queen's chair" for Robinette. And so he and

-Lavendar crossed hands, and one arm of Robinette encircled the boy's

-head, while the other just touched Lavendar's neck enough to be

-steadied by it. Their laughter frightened the sleepy birds that night.

-The demoralized remnant of a Bank Holiday party would have been,

-Lavendar observed, respectability itself in comparison with them; and

-certainly no such group had ever approached Stoke Revel before. They

-were to enter by a back door, and Carnaby was to introduce them to

-the housekeeper's room, where he undertook that Bates would feed them.

-Lavendar alone was to be ambassador to the drawing room.

-

-"The only one of us with a boot on each foot, of course we appoint him

-by a unanimous vote," said Robinette.

-

-But the chief thing that Carnaby remembered, after all, of that

-evening's adventure, was Robinette's sudden impulsive kiss as she bade

-him good-night, Lavendar standing by. She had never kissed him before,

-for all her cousinliness, but she just brushed his cool, round cheek

-to-night as if with a swan's-down puff.

-

-"That's a shabby thing to call a kiss!" said the embarrassed but

-exhilarated youth.

-

-"Stop growling, you young cub, and be grateful; half a loaf is better

-than no bread," was Lavendar's comment as he watched the draggled and

-muddy but still charming Robinette up the stairway.

-

-

-

-

-XIV

-

-THE EMPTY SHRINE

-

-

-Lavendar had discovered, much to his dismay, that he must return to

-London upon important business; it was even a matter of uncertainty

-whether his father could spare him again or would consent to his

-returning to Stoke Revel to conclude Mrs. de Tracy's arrangements

-about the sale of the land.

-

-Affairs of the heart are like thunderstorms; the atmosphere may

-sometimes seem charged with electricity, and yet circumstances, like a

-sudden wind that sweeps the clouds away before they break, may cause

-the lovers to drift apart. Or all in a moment may come thunder,

-lightning, and rain from a clear sky, and there is nothing that is apt

-to precipitate matters like an unexpected parting.

-

-When Lavendar announced that he had to leave Stoke Revel, two pairs

-of eyes, Miss Smeardon's and Carnaby's, instantly looked at Robinette

-to see how she received the news, but she only smiled at the moment.

-She was just beginning her breakfast, and like the famous Charlotte,

-"went on cutting bread and butter," without any sign of emotion.

-

-"Hurrah!" thought the boy. "Now we can have some fun, and I'll perhaps

-make her see that old Lavendar isn't the only companion in the

-world."

-

-"She minds," thought Miss Smeardon, "for she buttered that piece of

-bread on the one side a minute ago, and now she's just done it on the

-other--and eaten it too."

-

-"She doesn't care a bit," thought Lavendar. "She's not even changed

-colour; my going or staying is nothing to her; I needn't come back."

-

-He had made up his mind to return just the same, if it were at all

-possible, and he told Mrs. de Tracy so. She remarked graciously that

-he was a welcome guest at any time, and Carnaby, hearing this,

-pinched Lord Roberts till he howled like a fiend, and fled for comfort

-to his mistress's lap.

-

-"You little coward," said Carnaby, "you should be ashamed to bear the

-name of a hero."

-

-"I've mentioned to you before, Carnaby, I think, that I dislike that

-jest," said his grandmother, and Carnaby advancing to the injured

-beast said, "Yes, ma'am, and so does Bobs, doesn't he, Bobs?" reducing

-the lap-dog to paroxysms of fury. "Would it be any better if I called

-him _Kitchener_?" hissing the word into the animal's face. "Jealous,

-Bobs? Eh? _Kitchener_." This last word had a rasping sound that

-irritated the little creature more than ever; his teeth jibbered with

-anger, and Miss Smeardon had to offer him a saucer of cream before he

-could be calmed down enough for the rest of the party to hear

-themselves speak.

-

-"Had you nice letters this morning? Mine were very uninteresting,"

-Robinette remarked to Lavendar as they stood together at the doorway

-in the sunshine, while Carnaby chased the lap-dog round and round the

-lawn.

-

-"I had only two letters; one was from my sister Amy, the candid one!

-her letters are not generally exhilarating."

-

-"Oh, I know, home letters are usually enough to send one straight to

-bed with a headache! They never sound a note of hope from first to

-last; although if you had no home, but only a house, like me, with no

-one but a caretaker in it, you'd be very thankful to get them, doleful

-or not."

-

-"I doubt it," Mark answered, for Amy's letter seemed to be burning a

-hole in his pocket at that moment. He had skimmed it hurriedly

-through, but parts of it were already only too plain.

-

-When the others had gone into the house, he went off by himself, and

-jumping the low fence that divided the lawn from the fields beyond, he

-flung himself down under a tree to read it over again. Carnaby,

-spying him there, came rushing from the house, and was soon pouring

-out a tale of something that had happened somewhere, and throwing

-stones as he talked, at the birds circling about the ivied tower of

-the little church.

-

-The field was full of buttercups up to the very churchyard walls. "I

-must get away by myself for a bit," Lavendar thought. "That boy's

-chatter will drive me mad." At this point Carnaby's volatile attention

-was diverted by the sight of a gardener mounting a ladder to clear the

-sparrows' nests from the water chutes, and he jumped up in a twinkling

-to take his part in this new joy. Lavendar rose, and strolled off with

-his hands in his pockets and his bare head bent. The grass he walked

-in was a very Field of the Cloth of Gold. His shoes were gilded by the

-pollen from the buttercups, his eyes dazzled by their colour; it was a

-relief to pass through the stone archway that led into the little

-churchyard. To his spirit at that moment the chill was refreshing. He

-loitered about for a few minutes, and then seeing that the door was

-open, he entered the church, closing the door gently behind him.

-

-It was very quiet in there and even the chirping of the sparrows was

-softened into a faint twitter. Here at last was a place set apart, a

-moment of stillness when he might think things out by himself.

-

-He took out Amy's letter, smoothing it flat on the prayer books before

-him, and forced himself to read it through. The early paragraphs dealt

-with some small item of family news which in his present state of mind

-mattered to Lavendar no more than the distant chirruping of the birds,

-out there in the sunshine. "You seem determined to stay for some time

-at Stoke Revel," his sister wrote. "No doubt the pretty American is

-the attraction. She sounds charming from your description, but my dear

-man, that's all froth! How many times have I heard this sort of thing

-from you before! Remember I know everything about your former loves."

-

-"You _don't_, then," said Lavendar to himself. Down, down, down at the

-bottom of the well of the heart where truth lies, there is always some

-remembrance, generally a very little one, that can never be told to

-any confidant.

-

-"You will find out faults in Mrs. Loring presently, just like the rest

-of them," continued the pitiless writer. (Amy's handwriting was

-painfully distinct.) "I must tell you that at the Cowleys' the other

-day, I suddenly came face to face with Gertrude Meredith _and Dolly_!

-Dolly looks a good deal older already and fatter, I thought. I fear

-she is losing her looks, for her colour has become fixed, and she

-_will_ wear no collars still, although on a rather thick neck, it's

-not at all becoming. I spoke to her for about three minutes, as it was

-less awkward, when we met suddenly face to face like that. She laughed

-a good deal, and asked for you rather audaciously, I thought. They

-live near Winchester now, and since the Colonel's death are pretty

-badly off, Gertrude says. Dolly is going to Devonshire to stay with

-the Cowleys; you may meet her there any day, remember. It does seem

-incredible to me that a man of your discrimination could have been won

-by the obvious devotion of a girl like Dolly; but having given your

-word I almost think you would better have kept it, rather than suffer

-all this criticism from a host of mutual friends."

-

-Lavendar groaned aloud. He had a good memory, and with all too great

-distinctness did he now remember Dolly Meredith's laugh. How wretched

-it had all been; not a word had ever passed between them that had any

-value now. If he could have washed the thought of her forever from his

-memory, how greatly he would have rejoiced at that moment.

-

-Well, it was over; written down against him, that he had been what the

-world called a jilt and a fool; yes, certainly a fool, but not so

-great a one as to follow his folly to its ultimate conclusion, and tie

-himself for life to a woman he did not love.

-

-Lavendar was extraordinarily sensitive about the breaking of his

-engagement; partly because Miss Meredith herself, in her first rage,

-had avowed his responsibility for her blighted future, giving him no

-chance for chivalrous behaviour; partly because in all his transient

-love affairs he had easily tired of the women who inspired them. He

-seemed thirsty for love, but weary of it almost as soon as the draught

-reached his lips.

-

-And now had he a chance again?--or was it all to end in disappointment

-once more, in that cold disappointment of the heart that has received

-stones for bread? It was not entirely his own fault; he had expected

-much from life, and hitherto had received very little. But Robinette!

-

-"Let me find all her faults now," he said to himself, "or evermore

-keep silent; meantime I hope I am not concealing too many of my

-own."

-

-He tried to force himself into criticism; to look at her as a cold

-observer from the outside would have done; for that curious Border

-country of Love which he had entered has not an equable climate at

-all. It is fire and frost alternate; and criticism is either roused

-almost to a morbid pitch, or else the faculty is drugged, and nothing,

-not even the enumeration of a hundred foibles will awaken it for a

-time.

-

-When the cold fit had been upon him the evening before, Lavendar had

-said to himself that her manner was too free--that she had led him on

-too quickly; no, that expression was dishonourable and unjust; he

-repented it instantly; she had been too unself-conscious, too girlish,

-too unthinking, in what she said and did. "But she's a widow after

-all, though she's only two and twenty," he went on to himself. "Hang

-it! I wish she were not! If her heart were in her husband's grave I

-should be moaning at that; and because I see that it is not, I become

-critical. There's nothing quite perfect in life!"

-

-He had begun by noticing some little defects in her personal

-appearance, but he was long past that now; what did such trifles

-matter, here or there? Then he remembered all that he had heard said

-about American women. Did those pretty clothes of hers mean that she

-would be extravagant and selfish to obtain them? Could a young man

-with no great fortune offer her the luxury that was necessary to her?

-and even so, what changes come with time! He had a full realization of

-what the boredom of family life can be, when passion has grown stale.

-

-"At seventy, say, when I am palsied and she is old and fat, will

-romance be alive then? Will such feeling leave anything real behind it

-when it falls away, as the white blossoms on Mrs. Prettyman's plum

-tree will shrink and fall a fortnight hence?"

-

-He looked about him. On the walls of the little church were tablets

-with the de Tracy names; the names of her forefathers amongst them.

-Under his feet were other flags with names upon them too; and out

-there in the sunshine were the grave-stones of a hundred dead. How

-many of them had been happy in their loves?

-

-Not so many, he thought, if all were told, and why should he hope to

-be different? Yet surely this was a new feeling, a worthy one, at

-last. It was not for her charming person that he loved her; not

-because of her beauty and her gaiety only; but because he had seen in

-her something that gave a promise of completion to his own nature, the

-something that would satisfy not only his senses but his empty heart.

-

-He clenched his hands on the carved top of the old pew in front of

-him, which was fashioned into a laughing gnome with the body of a

-duck. "And if this should be all a dream," he asked himself again, "if

-this should all be false too! Good Lord!" he cried half aloud, "I

-want to be honest now! I want to find the truth. My whole life is on

-the throw this time!"

-

-There was a moment's silence after he had uttered the words. He got up

-and moved slowly down the aisle, opening the door, seeing again the

-meadow of buttercups, yellow as gold, and listening again to the

-sparrows chirruping in the sunshine outside.

-

-"I have been in that church a quarter of an hour," he said to himself,

-"and in trying to dive to the depths of myself and find out whether I

-was giving a woman all I had to give, I did not get time to consider

-that woman's probable answer, should I place my uninteresting life and

-liberty at her disposal."

-

-

-

-

-XV

-

-"NOW LUBIN IS AWAY"

-

-

-Lavendar made his adieux after luncheon and went off to London.

-"Good-bye for the present, Mrs. de Tracy; I shall be back on Wednesday

-probably, if I can arrange it," he said. "Good-bye, Mrs. Loring," and

-here he altered the phrase to "Shall I come back on Wednesday?" for

-his hostess had left the open door.

-

-There was no hesitation, but all too little sentiment, about

-Robinette's reply.

-

-"Wednesday, at the latest, are my orders," she answered merrily, and

-with the words ringing in his ears Lavendar took his departure.

-

-"Do you remember that this is the afternoon of the garden party at

-Revelsmere?" Mrs. de Tracy enquired, coming into the drawing room a

-few minutes later, where Mrs. Loring stood by the open window. She

-had allowed herself just five minutes of depression, staring out at

-the buttercup meadow. How black the rooks looked as they flew about it

-and how dreary everything was, now that Lavendar had gone! She was

-woman enough to be able to feel inwardly amused at her own absurdity,

-when she recognized that the ensuing three days seemed to stretch out

-into a limitless expanse of dullness. "The village seemed asleep or

-dead now Lubin was away!" Still, after all, it was an occasion for

-wearing a pretty frock, and she knew herself well enough to feel sure

-that the sight of a few of her fellow-creatures even pretending to

-enjoy themselves, would make her volatile spirits rise like the

-mercury in a thermometer on a hot day.

-

-Miss Smeardon was to be her companion, as Mrs. de Tracy had a headache

-that afternoon and was afraid of the heat, she said. "What heat?"

-Robinette had asked innocently, for in spite of the brilliant sunlight

-the wind blew from the east, keen as a knife. "I shall take a good

-wrap in the carriage in spite of this tropical temperature," she

-thought. Carnaby refused point blank to drive with them; he would

-bicycle to the party or else not go at all, so it was alone with Miss

-Smeardon that Robinette started in the heavy old landau behind the

-palsied horse.

-

-Miss Smeardon gave one glance at Mrs. Loring's dress, and Robinette

-gave one glance at Miss Smeardon's, each making her own comments.

-

-"That white cloth will go to the cleaner, I suppose, after one

-wearing, and as for that thing on her head with lilac wistaria

-drooping over the brim, it can't be meant as a covering, or a

-protection, either from sun or wind; it's nothing but an ornament!"

-Miss Smeardon commented; while to herself Robinette ejaculated,--

-

-"A penwiper, an old, much-used penwiper, is all that Miss Smeardon

-resembles in that black rag!"

-

-Carnaby, watching the start at the door, whistled in open admiration

-as Robinette came down the steps.

-

-"Well, well! we are got up to kill this afternoon; pity old Mark has

-just gone; but cheer up, Cousin Robin, there's always a curate on

-hand!"

-

-For once Robinette's ready tongue played her false, and a sense of

-loneliness overcame her at the sound of Lavendar's name. She gathered

-up her long white skirts and got into the carriage with as much

-dignity as she could muster, while Carnaby, his eyes twinkling with

-mischief, stood ready to shut the door after Miss Smeardon.

-

-"Hope you'll enjoy your drive," he jeered. "You'll need to hold on

-your hats. Bucephalus goes at such fiery speed that they'll be torn

-off your heads unless you do."

-

-"Middy dear, you're not the least amusing," said Robinette quite

-crossly, and with a lurch the carriage moved off.

-

-Miss Smeardon settled herself for conversation. "I'm afraid you will

-find me but a dull companion, Mrs. Loring," she said, glancing

-sideways at Robinette from under the brim of her mushroom hat.

-

-"Oh, you will be able to tell me who everyone is," said Robinette as

-cheerfully as she could.

-

-"I am no gossip," Miss Smeardon protested.

-

-"It isn't necessary to gossip, is it?--but I've a wholesome interest

-in my fellow creatures."

-

-"And it is well to know about people a little; when one comes among

-strangers as you do, Mrs. Loring; one can't be too careful--an

-American, particularly."

-

-Miss Smeardon's voice trailed off upon a note of insinuation; but

-Robinette took no notice of the remark. She did not seem to have

-anything to say, so Miss Smeardon took up another subject.

-

-"What a pity that Mr. Lavendar had to leave before this afternoon; he

-would have been such an addition to our party!"

-

-"Yes, wouldn't he?" Robinette agreed, though she carefully kept out of

-her voice the real passion of assent that was in her heart.

-

-"Mr. Lavendar is so agreeable, I always think," Miss Smeardon went on.

-"Everyone likes him; he almost carries his pleasant ways too far. I

-suppose that was how--" She paused, and added again, "Oh, but as I

-said, I never talk scandal!"

-

-"Do you think it's possible to be too pleasant?" Robinette remarked,

-stupidly enough, scarcely caring what she said.

-

-"Well, when it leads a poor girl to imagine that she is loved! I hear

-that Dolly Meredith is just heart-broken. The engagement kept on for

-quite a year, I believe, and then to break it off so heartlessly!--I

-was reminded of it all by coming here. Miss Meredith is a cousin of

-our hostess, and they met first at Revelsmere when they were quite

-young."

-

-"There is always a certain amount of talk when an engagement has to

-be broken off," said Robinette in a cold voice.

-

-"They seemed quite devoted at first," Miss Smeardon began; but

-Robinette interrupted her.

-

-"The sooner such things are forgotten the better, I think," she said.

-"No one, except the two people concerned, ever knows the real

-truth.--Tell me, Miss Smeardon, whom we are likely to meet at

-Revelsmere? Who is our hostess? What sort of parties does she give?"

-

-Being so firmly switched off from the affairs of Mr. Lavendar and Miss

-Meredith, it was impossible for Miss Smeardon to talk about them any

-more, and she had to turn to a less congenial theme.

-

-"We shall meet the neighbours," she told Robinette, "but I am afraid

-they may not interest you very much. I understand that in America you

-are accustomed to a great deal of the society of gentlemen. Here there

-are so few, and all of them are married."

-

-"All?" laughed Robinette.

-

-"Well, there is Mr. Finch, the curate, but he is a celibate; and young

-Mr. Tait of Strewe, but he is slightly paralysed."

-

-"Why, Carnaby must be quite an eligible bachelor in these parts," said

-Robinette; but Miss Smeardon was so deadly literal that she accepted

-the remark as a serious one.

-

-"Not quite yet; in a few years' time we shall need to be very careful,

-there are so many girls here, but not all of them desirable, of

-course."

-

-"There are? What a dull time they must have with the Married Men, the

-Celibate, the Paralytic, and Carnaby! I'm glad my girlhood wasn't

-spent in Devonshire."

-

-Conversation ended here, for the carriage rumbled up the avenue, and

-Robinette looked about her eagerly. Revelsmere was a nice old house,

-surrounded by fine sloping lawns and a background of sombre

-beechwoods. The lawns to-day were dotted with groups of people, mainly

-women, and elderly at that. As Robinette and Miss Smeardon alighted

-at the door an elderly hostess welcomed them, and an elderly host led

-them across the lawn and straightly they fell into the clutches of

-more and more elderlies.

-

-"It is fairly bewildering!" Robinette cried in her heart; then she saw

-a bevy of girls approaching; such nice-looking girls, happy, well

-dressed, but all unattended by their suitable complement of young

-men.

-

-"For whom do they dress, here? They've a deal of self-respect, I

-think, to go on getting themselves up so nicely for themselves and the

-Celibate, the Paralytic, and Carnaby," thought Robinette, as she

-watched them.

-

-Presently another couple came across the lawn; the young woman was by

-no means a girl, rather heavily built, with a high fixed colour. She

-was attended by a man. "Not the Celibate certainly," thought Mrs.

-Loring with a glance at his bullock-like figure, his thick neck, and

-glossy black hair, "nor the Paralytic; and it's not Carnaby. It must

-be a new arrival!"

-

-At that moment it began to rain, but nothing daunted, their hostess

-approached her, and saying pleasantly that she wished to introduce her

-to Miss Meredith, she left Robinette and the young woman standing

-together under a spreading tree, and took the gentleman away with

-her.

-

-The moment that she heard the name, Robinette realized who Miss

-Meredith was. They seated themselves side by side on a garden bench,

-and Miss Meredith remarked upon the heat, planting a rather fat hand

-upon the arm of the garden seat, and surveying it complacently,

-especially the very bright diamond ring upon the third finger.

-

-After a few preliminary remarks, she asked Mrs. Loring if she were

-stopping in the neighbourhood.

-

-"Yes, I am staying at Stoke Revel for a short time," Robinette

-replied; "Mrs. de Tracy is my aunt, or at least I am Admiral de

-Tracy's niece."

-

-Her companion did not seem to take the least interest in this part of

-the information, only when Stoke Revel was mentioned she looked around

-suddenly as if surprised.

-

-They talked upon indifferent subjects, while Robinette, as she watched

-Miss Meredith, was saying a good deal to herself, although she only

-spoke aloud about the weather and the Devonshire scenery.

-

-"I will be just, if I can't be generous," she thought. "She has (or

-she must once have had) a fine complexion. I dare say she is sincere

-enough; she may be sensible; she might be good-humoured,--when

-pleased."

-

-"There is going to be a shower," said Miss Meredith, "but I've nothing

-on to spoil," she added, glancing at Robinette's hat.

-

-Sitting there on the bench, hearing the spitting rain upon the water

-below them and watching the leaden mists that slowly gathered over the

-landscape, Robinette fell upon a moment of soul sickness very unusual

-to her. Miss Meredith too was silent, absorbed in her own thoughts.

-

-"If she had looked even a little different it would have been so much

-easier to explain," thought Robinette. Then suddenly she glanced up.

-She saw that her companion's face had softened, and changed. There was

-a look,--Robinette caught it just for one moment,--such as a proud

-angry child might have worn: sulky, hurt to the heart, but determined

-not to cry. Instantly a chord was struck in Robinette's soul. "She has

-suffered, anyway," she thought. "May I be forgiven for my harsh

-judgment!"

-

-With a shiver she drew her wrap about her shoulders, and Miss Meredith

-turned towards her. The expression Robinette had noticed passed from

-the high-coloured face and left it as before, self-complacent and

-slightly patronizing. "You seem to feel cold," she said. "I never do;

-which is rather unfortunate, as I'm just going out to India!"

-

-"Indeed? How soon are you going?"

-

-"In about six weeks. I'm just going to be married, and we sail

-directly afterwards," said Miss Meredith. "You saw Mr. Joyce, I think,

-when we came up together a few minutes ago?"

-

-A weight as if of a ton of lead was lifted from Robinette's heart as

-she spoke. She could scarcely refrain from jumping up to throw her

-arms about Dolly Meredith's neck and kiss her. As it was, she bubbled

-over with a kind of sympathetic interest that astonished the other

-woman. It is only too easy to lead an approaching bride to talk about

-her own affairs, for she can seldom take in the existence of even her

-nearest and dearest at such a time, and in a few minutes the two young

-women were deep in conversation. When a quarter of an hour later Miss

-Smeardon appeared to tell Robinette that they must be going, she

-looked up with a start at the sound of footsteps on the gravel path.

-"Oh, you are here, Mrs. Loring; we couldn't think where you had

-gone," said Miss Smeardon, acidly.

-

-"And here is Miss Meredith of all people!" she continued, "I thought

-you were sure to be on the tennis court, Miss Meredith; Mr. Joyce is

-playing now."

-

-"Oh, we have had such a delightful talk," said Dolly, so flushed with

-pleasure that Miss Smeardon gazed at her in astonishment.

-

-"If only I knew her well enough to send her a munificent wedding

-present! How I should love to do so; just to register my own joy,"

-said Robinette to herself. As it was she shook hands very warmly with

-Miss Meredith before they parted, and when half way across the lawn,

-looked back again, and waved her hand gaily. Miss Meredith was pacing

-the grass, and treading heavily beside her, with a very gallant air,

-was her bullock-like young man.

-

-"Mr. Joyce is quite wealthy," said Miss Smeardon. "I understand that

-he is an only son too, and will some day inherit a fine property.

-Miss Meredith is most fortunate, at her age and with her history."

-

-Robinette said nothing. She looked out at the glistening reaches of

-the river, now shining through the silver mist; at the fields yellow

-with buttercups, and the folds of the distant hills. As they drove up

-the lane to the house, the birds, refreshed by the rain, were singing

-like angels. In her heart too, something was singing as blithely as

-any bird amongst them all.

-

-"Sometimes, sometimes our mistakes do not come home to roost!" she

-thought, "but fly away and make nests elsewhere--rich nests in India

-too!"

-

-"How did you enjoy the party, Cousin Robin?" said Carnaby, who

-was waiting for them in the doorway. "I had a good tuck-in of

-strawberries. The ladies were a little young for my taste; just

-immature girls; no one under sixty, and rather frisky, don't you

-think? By the way did you see Number One and her millionaire?"

-

-"I don't know what you mean by Number One," said Robinette, haughtily,

-as she passed in at the door.

-

-"You will, when you're Number Two!" rejoined Carnaby, stooping to

-pinch Lord Roberts' tail till the hero yelped aloud.

-

-

-

-

-XVI

-

-TWO LETTERS

-

-

-Lavendar tore up his fourth sheet of paper and began afresh. "Dear

-Mrs. Loring." No, that would not do; he took another sheet, and began

-again:--

-

-"My dear Mrs. Loring,--Your commission for old Mrs. Prettyman has

-taken some little time to execute, for I had to go to two or three

-shops before finding a chair 'with green cushions, and a wide seat, so

-comfortable that it would almost act as an anaesthetic if her

-rheumatism happened to be bad, and yet quite suitable for a cottage

-room.' These were my orders, I think, and like all your orders they

-demand something better than the mere perfunctory observance. My own

-proportions differing a good deal from those of the old lady, it is

-still an open question whether what seemed comfortable to me will be

-quite the same to her. I can but hope so, and the chair will be

-dispatched at once.

-

-"London is noisy and dusty, and grimy and stuffy, and, to one man at

-least, very, very dull. A boat on Greenshaw ferry seems the only spot

-in the world where any gaiety is to be found. You can hear the cuckoos

-calling across the river as you read this, no doubt, and Carnaby is

-rendered happier than he deserves by being allowed to row you down to

-tell Mrs. Prettyman about the chair. I feel as if, like the Japanese,

-I could journey a hundred miles to worship that wonderful tree.--Don't

-let the blossoms fall until I come!

-

-"There seems a good deal of business to be done. My father unfortunately

-is no better, so he cannot come down to Stoke Revel, and I shall

-probably return upon Wednesday morning. A poem of Browning's runs in my

-head--something about three days--I can't quote exactly.

-

-"If my sister were writing this letter, she would say that I have been

-very hard to please, and uninterested in everything since I came home.

-Indeed it seems as if I were. London in this part of it, in hot

-weather, makes a man weary for green woods, a sliding river, and a

-Book of Verses underneath a Bough. Well, perhaps I shall have all of

-them by Wednesday afternoon. You will think I can do nothing but

-grumble. All the same, into what was the mere dull routine of

-uncongenial work before, your influence has come with a current of new

-energy; like the tide from the sea swelling up into the inland

-river.--I'm at it again! Rivers on the brain evidently.

-

-"I hope meanwhile that Carnaby behaves himself, and is not too much of

-a bore, and that England,--England in spring at least, is gaining a

-corner in your heart? Your mother called it home, remember. Yes, do

-try to remember that!

-

-"Did you go to the garden party? Did you walk? Did you drive? Did you

-like it? Who was there? Were you dull?"

-

-                  *       *       *       *       *

-

-There was a postscript:--

-

-"I have found the verse from Browning, 'So I shall see her in three

-days.'

-

-                                                               "M. L."

-

-                  *       *       *       *       *

-

-                                                       "Tuesday, 19th.

-

-"Dear Mr. Lavendar: First, many thanks for Nurse's armchair, which

-arrived in perfect order, and is a shining monument to your good

-taste. She does nothing but look at it, shrouding it when she retires

-to bed with an old table-cover, to protect it from the night air.

-

-"Whether she will ever make its acquaintance thoroughly enough to sit

-in it I do not know, but it will give her an enormous amount of

-pleasure. Perhaps her glow of pride in its possession does her as much

-good as the comfort she might take in its use.

-

-"Her 'rheumatics' are very painful just now, and I have a good deal to

-do with Duckie. You remember Duckie? I call her Mrs. Mackenzie, after

-that lady in The Newcomes who talked the Colonel to death. Mrs.

-Mackenzie is heavy, elderly, and strong-willed. I am acquainted with

-every bone, tendon, and sinew in her body, having to lift her into a

-coop behind the cottage where she will not wake Nurse at dawn with her

-eternal quacking. She has heretofore slept under Nurse's bedroom

-window and dislikes change of any kind. So lucky she has no offspring!

-I tremble to think of what maternal example might do in such a

-talkative family!

-

-"Stoke Revel is as it was and ever will be, world without end; only

-Aunt de Tracy is crosser than when you are here and life is not as

-gay, although Carnaby does his dear, cubbish best. If ever you

-desire your mental jewels to shine at their brightest; if ever you

-wish a tolerably good disposition to seem like that of an angel; if

-ever, in a fit of vanity, you would like to appear as a blend of

-Apollo, Lancelot, Demosthenes, Prince Charlie, Ajax, and Solomon,

-just fly to Stoke Revel and become part of the household. Assume

-nothing; simply appear, and the surroundings will do the rest; like

-the penny-in-the-slot arrangements. Seen upon a background of Bates,

-William, Benson, Big Cummins, the Curate, Miss Smeardon, and may I

-dare to add, the lady of the Manor herself,--any living breathing

-man takes on an Olympian majesty. I shouldn't miss you in Boston

-nor in London; perhaps even in Weston I might find a wretched

-substitute, but here you are priceless!

-

-"I have some news for you. On Saturday Miss Smeardon and I went to a

-garden party. That was what it was called. The thermometer was only

-slightly below zero when we started, and that luminary masquerading as

-the sun was pretending to shine. Soon after we arrived at the festive

-scene, there were gusts of wind and rain. I sought the shelter of a

-spreading tree, the kitchen fire not being available, and I was joined

-there by the hostess, who presented her niece, your Miss Meredith.

-

-"Dear Mr. Lavendar, this is a subject we cannot write about, you and

-I. I am loyal to my sex, and what Miss Meredith said, and looked, and

-did, are all as sacred to me as they ought to be. I only want to tell

-you that she is happy; that she has this very week become engaged, and

-is going to India with her husband in a month. Now that little

-cankerworm, that has been gnawing at your roots of life for the last

-year or two, has done its worst, and you are perfectly free to go and

-make other mistakes. I only hope you'll get 'scot free' from those,

-too, for I don't like to see nice men burn their fingers. We became

-such good friends huddled up in that boat when we were stuck in the

-mud--Ugh! I can smell it now!--that I am glad to be the first to send

-you pleasant news.

-

-                                             "Sincerely yours,

-                                                 "ROBINETTA LORING."

-

-

-

-

-XVII

-

-MRS. DE TRACY CROSSES THE FERRY

-

-

-Lavendar's blunt refusal, except under certain conditions, to

-announce to Mrs. Prettyman her coming ejection from the cottage at

-Wittisham, was unprofessional enough, as he himself felt; but it

-was final and categorical. Conveying as it did a sort of tacit

-remonstrance, this refusal had an unfortunate effect, for it only

-served to rouse Mrs. de Tracy's formidable obstinacy. She had

-seized upon one point only in their numberless and wearisome

-discussions of the matter: Mrs. Prettyman had no legal claim upon

-Stoke Revel. To give her compensation for the plum tree would be to

-allow that she had; to create a precedent highly dangerous under the

-circumstances. How could one refuse to other old women or old men

-leaving their cottages what one had weakly granted to her? The

-demands would be unceasing, the trouble endless. So arguing, Mrs. de

-Tracy soon brought herself to a state of determination bordering on a

-sort of mania. She was old, and in exaggerated harshness her life was

-retreating as it were into its last stronghold, at bay.

-

-As good as her word, for she had vowed she would warn Mrs. Prettyman

-herself, and she was never one to procrastinate, the lady of the Manor

-proceeded to plan her visit to Wittisham. She had not crossed the

-river for years. Wittisham, one of the loveliest villages in England,

-perhaps, though little known, was a thorn in her side, as it would

-have been in that of any other landlord with empty pockets.

-

-What you could not deal with to your own advantage, it was better to

-ignore, and on this autocratic principle, Mrs. de Tracy had left

-Wittisham to itself.

-

-But now the boat carried her there, alone and fierce--_thrawn_, as

-the Scotch say--bent upon a course of conduct that she knew would

-hold her up to the hatred of every right-thinking person of her

-acquaintance, and bitterly triumphant in the knowledge. The

-meanness of her errand never struck her. On the contrary, she would

-have argued it was one well worthy of her, a part of the scheme in

-the consummation of which she had spent her married life and her whole

-indomitable energy, losing actually her own identity in the process,

-and becoming an inexorable machine. That scheme was the holding

-together of Stoke Revel for the de Tracys, the maintenance of family

-dignity and power, the pre-eminence of a race that had always ruled.

-The river beneath her, carrying her to the fulfilment of her duty,

-the noble river, widening to the sea, subject to its tides and made

-turbulent by its storms, typified to Mrs. de Tracy only the

-greatness of Stoke Revel. From its banks the de Tracys had sent out,

-generation after generation, men who had commanded fleets, who

-had upheld the national honour upon the farthest seas, very often at

-the cost of life. There was no sacrifice of herself at which Mrs.

-de Tracy would have hesitated in upholding this ideal, no sacrifice

-of others, either. What was Lizzie Prettyman in comparison? A bag

-of old bones, fit for nothing but the workhouse!

-

-"A little faster, William," said the widow, sitting upright in the

-stern, and William the footman bent to his oars, the beads of

-perspiration standing on his brow. When Mrs. de Tracy stepped out upon

-the pier, she had to be reminded where the Prettyman cottage was.

-

-"You'll know it by the plum tree, ma'am," said William respectfully,

-"everybody does."

-

-It was not far off on the river side. The tide had ebbed and left a

-stretch of muddy foreshore in front of it, where the rotting poles for

-hanging the fishing nets out to dry stood gauntly up. Mrs. de Tracy

-approached the steps, which merged into the flagged path before the

-door, and paused to survey the property she intended to part with. She

-had no eye for the picturesque. A few white petals from the blossoming

-plum tree, scattered by the breeze, fell upon her black bonnet and

-shoulders. A faint scent of honey came from it and the hum of bees,

-for the day was warm. The tumble-down condition of the cottage engaged

-Mrs. de Tracy's attention.

-

-"And for this," she thought scornfully, "a man will give hundreds of

-pounds! There's truth in the adage that a fool and his money are soon

-parted!"

-

-She mounted the steps that led up to the patch of garden, her keen,

-cold eyes everywhere at once. "A cat can't sneeze without she 'ears

-'im!" her villagers at Stoke Revel were wont to say, disappearing into

-their houses as rabbits into their burrows at sight of a terrier.

-

-Old Elizabeth Prettyman stood at her door, and it took some time to

-make her realize who her august visitor was. She was getting blind;

-she had never been a favourite with Mrs. de Tracy, nor had she entered

-Stoke Revel Manor since her nursling disgraced it by marrying a Bean.

-She curtseyed humbly to the great lady.

-

-"There now, ma'am," she said, "it's not often we have seen you across

-the river. Will you please to come inside and sit down, ma'am? 'T is

-very warm this afternoon, it is." She was a good deal fluttered in her

-welcome, for there was that in Mrs. de Tracy's air that seemed to bode

-misfortune.

-

-"I shall sit down for a few minutes, Elizabeth," was the reply, "while

-I explain my visit to you."

-

-Mrs. Prettyman stood aside respectfully, and Mrs. de Tracy swept past

-her into the cottage and seated herself there. It never occurred to

-her to ask the old woman to sit down in her own house; she expected

-her to stand throughout the interview. Without further preamble,

-then, Mrs. de Tracy came to the point:--

-

-"Elizabeth," she said, "I have come to tell you that I am going to

-sell the land on which this cottage stands, and that you will have to

-find some other home."

-

-The old woman did not understand for a minute. "You be going to sell

-the land, ma'am?" she repeated stupidly.

-

-"Yes, I am. A gentleman from London wishes to buy it; you will need to

-go."

-

-"A gentleman from London! Lor, ma'am, no gentleman from London

-wouldn't live 'ere!" Elizabeth cried, perfectly dazed by the

-statement.

-

-Mrs. de Tracy repeated: "It is not your business, Elizabeth, what he

-intends to do with the place; all you have to do is to remove from the

-house."

-

-The old woman sank down on the nearest chair and covered her face with

-her hands. She was so old and so tired that she had no heart to face

-life under new conditions, even should they be better than those she

-left. A younger woman would have snapped her fingers in Mrs. de

-Tracy's face, so to speak, and wished her joy of her old rattletrap of

-a house, but Elizabeth Prettyman, after a lifetime of struggles, had

-not vitality enough for such an action. She had never dreamed of

-leaving the cottage, and where was she to go? Her furrowed face wore

-an expression of absolute terror now when she looked up.

-

-"But where be I to live, ma'am?" she cried.

-

-"I do not know, Elizabeth; you must arrange that with your relations,"

-said Mrs. de Tracy.

-

-"I don't 'ave but only me niece--'er as married down Exeter way."

-

-"Well, you should write to her then."

-

-"She don't want to keep me, Nettie don't,--she's but a poor man's

-wife, and five chillen she 'as; it's not like as if she were me

-daughter, ma'am."

-

-"You have some small sum of money of your own every year, have you

-not?" Mrs. de Tracy asked.

-

-"Ten pound a year, ma'am; the same that me 'usband left me; two

-'undred pounds 'e 'ad saved and 't is in an annuity; that's all I

-'ave--that and me plum tree."

-

-"The plum tree is not yours, either, Elizabeth; that belongs to the

-land," said Mrs. de Tracy curtly.

-

-"'T was me 'usband planted it, ma'am, years ago. We watched 'en and

-pruned 'en and tended 'en like a child we did--an' now to be told 'er

-ain't mine!"

-

-"You're forgetting yourself, Elizabeth, I think," said Mrs. de Tracy.

-It was simply impossible for her to see with the old woman's eyes; all

-she remembered was the legal fact that any tree planted in Stoke Revel

-ground belonged to the owner of the ground.

-

-"But ma'am, 't is a big part of me living is the plum tree; only

-yesterday I says to the young lady--Miss Cynthia's young lady--I

-says, 'Dear knows how 't would be with me without I had the plum

-tree.'"

-

-"I cannot help that, Elizabeth: the plum tree is not yours, it belongs

-to Stoke Revel."

-

-"Then ma'am, you'll be 'lowing me something for it surely?"

-

-"No," said Mrs. de Tracy obstinately, "you have no legal claim to

-compensation, Elizabeth. I cannot undertake to allow you anything for

-what is not yours. If I did it in your case you know quite well I

-should have to do it in many others."

-

-There was a long and heavy silence. Elizabeth Prettyman was taking in

-her sentence of banishment from her old home; Mrs. de Tracy was merely

-wondering how long it would take her to walk down that nasty steep bit

-of path to the ferry. At last the old woman looked up.

-

-"When must I be goin' then, ma'am?" she asked meekly.

-

-Mrs. de Tracy considered. "The transfer of land from one person to

-another generally takes some time: you will have several weeks here

-still; I shall send you notice later which day to quit."

-

-"Thank you, ma'am," said Elizabeth simply, and added, "The plum tree

-blossoms 'ul be over by that time."

-

-"I don't see what that has to do with it," said Mrs. de Tracy, in

-whose heart there was room for no sentiment.

-

-"'T would have been 'arder leavin' it in blossom time," the old woman

-explained; but her hearer could not see the point. She rose slowly

-from her chair and looked around the cottage.

-

-"I am glad to see that you keep your place clean and respectable,

-Elizabeth," she said. "I wish you good afternoon."

-

-Elizabeth never rose from her chair to see her visitor to the door--(an

-omission which Mrs. de Tracy was not likely to overlook)--she just sat

-there gazing stupidly around the tiny kitchen and muttering a word or

-two now and then. At last she got up and tottered to the garden.

-

-"I'll 'ave to leave it all--leave the old bench as me William did put

-for me with his own 'ands, and leave Duckie, Duckie can't never go to

-Exeter if I goes there,--and leave the plum tree." She limped across

-the little bit of sunny turf, and stood under the white canopy of the

-blossoming tree, leaning against its slender trunk. "Pity 't is we

-ain't rooted in the ground same as the trees are," she mused. "Then no

-one couldn't turn us out; only the Lord Almighty cut us down when our

-time came; Lord knows I'm about ready for that now--grave-ripe as you

-may say." She leaned her poor weary old head against the tree stem and

-wept, ready, ah! how ready, at that moment, to lay down the burden of

-her long and toilsome life.

-

-"Good afternoon, Nursie dear!" a clear voice called out in her ear,

-and Elizabeth started to find that Robinette had tip-toed across the

-grass and was standing close beside her. She lifted her tear-stained

-face up to Robinette's as a child might have done.

-

-"I've to quit, Missie," she sobbed, "to leave me 'ome and Duckie and

-the plum tree, an' I've no place to go to, and naught but my ten

-pounds to live on--and 't won't keep me without I've the plum tree,

-not when I've rent to pay from it; not if I don't eat nothing but tea

-an' bread never again!"

-

-In a moment Robinette's arms were about her: her soft young cheeks

-pressed against the withered old face.

-

-"What's this you're saying, Nurse?" she cried. "Leaving your cottage?

-Who said so?"

-

-"It's true, dear, quite true; 'asn't the lady 'erself been here to

-tell me so?"

-

-"Was that what Aunt de Tracy was here about? I met her on the road

-five minutes ago; she said she had been here on business! But tell me,

-Nurse, why does she want you to leave? Are you going to get a better

-cottage? Does she think this one isn't healthy for you?"

-

-"No, no, dear, 't isn't that, she 've sold the cottage over me 'ead,

-that's what 't is, or she's going to sell it, to a gentleman from

-London--Lord knows what a gentleman from London wants wi' 'en--and

-I've to quit."

-

-Robinette tried to be a peacemaker.

-

-"Then you'll get a much more comfortable house, that's quite certain.

-You know, though this one is lovely on fine days like this, that the

-thatch is all coming off, and I'm sure it's damp inside! Just wait a

-bit, and see if you don't get some nice cosy little place, with a

-sound roof and quite dry, that will cure this rheumatism of yours."

-

-But Mrs. Prettyman shook her head.

-

-"No, no, there won't be no cosy place given to me; I'm no more worth

-than an old shoe now, Missie, and I'm to be turned out, the lady said

-so 'erself; said as I must go to Exeter to live with me niece Nettie,

-and 'er don't want us--Nettie don't--and whatever shall I do without I

-'ave Duckie and the plum tree?"

-

-"Oh, but"--Robinette began, quite incredulously, and the old woman

-took up her lament again.

-

-"And I asked the lady, wouldn't I 'ave something allowed me for the

-plum tree--that 'ave about clothed me for years back? And 'No,' she

-says, ''t ain't your plum tree, Elizabeth, 't is mine; I can't 'low

-nothing on me own plum tree.'"

-

-Robinette still refused to believe the story.

-

-"Nurse, dear," she said, "you're a tiny bit deaf now, you know, and

-perhaps you misunderstood about leaving. Suppose you keep your dear

-old heart easy for to-night, and I'll come down bright and early

-to-morrow and tell you what it really is! If you have to leave the

-plum tree you'll get a fine price put on it that may last you for

-years; it's such a splendid tree, anyone can see it's worth a good

-deal."

-

-"That it be, Missie, the finest tree in Wittisham," the old woman

-said, drying her eyes, a little comforted by the assurance in

-Robinette's voice and manner.

-

-"There now, we won't have any more tears: I've brought a new canister

-of tea I sent for to London. I'm just dying to taste if it's good;

-we'll brew it together, Nursie; I shall carry out the little table

-from the kitchen and we'll drink our tea under the plum tree,"

-Robinette cried.

-

-She was carrying a great parcel under her arm, and when Mrs. Prettyman

-opened it, she could scarcely believe that this lovely red tin

-canister, filled with pounds of fragrant tea, could really be hers!

-The sight of such riches almost drove away her former fears. Robinette

-whisked into the kitchen and came out carrying the little round table

-which she set down under the white canopy of the plum tree. Then

-together they brought out the rest of the tea things, and what a merry

-meal they had!

-

-"It's just nonsense and a bit of deafness on your part, Nurse, so we

-won't remember anything about leaving the house, we are only going to

-think of enjoyment," Robinette announced. Then the old woman was

-comforted, as old people are wont to be by the brave assurances of

-those younger and stronger than themselves, forgot the spectre that

-seemed to have risen suddenly across her path, and laughed and talked

-as she sipped the fragrant London tea.

-

-

-

-

-XVIII

-

-THE STOKE REVEL JEWELS

-

-

-"Hullo! Cousin Robin, hurry up, you'll need all your time!" It was

-Carnaby of course who saluted Robinette thus, as she came towards the

-house on her return from Wittisham.

-

-"I'm not late, am I?" she said, consulting her watch.

-

-"I thought you'd be making a tremendous toilette; one of your killing

-ones to-night," Carnaby said. "Do! I love to see you all dressed up

-till old Smeardon's eyes look as if they would drop out when you come

-into the room."

-

-"I'll wear my black dress, and her eyes may remain in her head,"

-Robinette laughed.

-

-"And what about Mark's eyes? Wouldn't you like them to drop out?" the

-boy asked mischievously. "He's come back by the afternoon train while

-you were away at Wittisham."

-

-"Oh, has he?" Robinette said, and Carnaby stared so hard at her, that

-to her intense annoyance she blushed hotly.

-

-"Horrid lynx-eyed boy," she said to herself as she ran upstairs, "He's

-growing up far too quickly. He needs to be snubbed." She dashed to the

-wardrobe, pulled out the black garment, and gave it a vindictive shake.

-"Old, dowdy, unbecoming, deaconess-district-visitor-bible-woman,

-great-grand-auntly thing!" she cried.

-

-Then her eye lighted on a cherished lavender satin. She stood for a

-moment deliberating, the black dress over her arm, her eyes fixed upon

-the lavender one that hung in the wardrobe.

-

-"I don't care," she cried suddenly: "I'll wear the lavender, so here

-goes! Men are all colour blind, so he'll merely notice that I look

-nice. I must conceal from myself and everybody else how depressed I am

-over the interview with Nurse, and how I dread discussing the cottage

-with Aunt de Tracy. That must be done the first thing after dinner, or

-I shall lose what little courage I have."

-

-Lavendar thought he had never seen her look so lovely as when he met

-her in the drawing room a quarter of an hour later. There was nothing

-extraordinary about the dress but its exquisite tint and the sheen of

-the soft satin. The suggestion that lay in the colour was entirely

-lost upon him, however: if asked to name it he would doubtless have

-said "purplish." How he wished that he might have escorted her into

-the dining room, but Mrs. de Tracy was his portion as usual, and

-Robinette was waiting for Carnaby, who seemed unaccountably slow.

-

-"Your arm, Middy, when you are quite ready," she said to him at last.

-Carnaby's extraordinary unreadiness seemed to arise from his trying to

-smuggle some object up his sleeve. This proved, a few moments later,

-to be a bundle of lavender sticks tied with violet ribbon that he had

-discovered in his bureau drawer. He laid it by Robinette's plate with

-a whispered "My compliments."

-

-"What does your cousin want that bunch of lavender for, at the table?"

-Mrs. de Tracy enquired.

-

-"She likes lavender anywhere, ma'am," Carnaby said with a wink on the

-side not visible by his grandmother. "It's a favourite of hers."

-

-Robinette could only be thankful that Lavendar was occupied in a

-_sotto voce_ discussion of wine with Bates, and she was able to

-conceal the bundle of herbs before his eyes met hers, for the fury she

-felt against her precious young kinsman at that moment she could have

-expressed only by blows.

-

-Dinner seemed interminably long. Robinette, for more reasons than one,

-was preoccupied; Lavendar made few remarks, and Carnaby was possessed

-by a spirit of perfectly fiendish mischief, saying and doing

-everything that could most exasperate his grandmother, put her guests

-to the blush, and shock Miss Smeardon.

-

-But at last Mrs. de Tracy rose from the table, and the ladies followed

-her from the room, leaving Lavendar to cope alone with Carnaby.

-

-"My fair American cousin is more than usually lovely to-night, eh, Mr.

-Lavendar?" the boy said, with his laughable assumption of a man of the

-world.

-

-"There, my young friend; that will do! you're talking altogether too

-much," said Lavendar, as he poured himself out a glass of wine and sat

-down by the open window to drink it. Carnaby, perhaps not unreasonably

-offended, lounged out of the room, and left the older man to his own

-meditations.

-

-Robinette in the meantime went into the drawing room with her aunt,

-and they sat down together in the dim light while Miss Smeardon went

-upstairs to write a letter.

-

-"Aunt de Tracy," Robinette began, "I was calling on Mrs. Prettyman

-just after you had been with her this afternoon, and do you know the

-dear old soul had taken the strangest idea into her head! She says you

-are going to ask her to leave the cottage."

-

-"The land on which her cottage stands is about to be sold," said Mrs.

-de Tracy. "It is necessary that she should move."

-

-"Yes, she quite understood that; but she thinks she is not going to

-get another house; that was what was distressing her, naturally. Of

-course she hates to leave the old place, but I believe if she gets

-another nicer cottage, that will quite console her," said Robinette

-quickly.

-

-"I have no vacant cottage on the estate just now," said Mrs. de Tracy

-quietly.

-

-"Then what is she to do? Isn't it impossible that she should move

-until another place is made ready for her?" Robinette rose and stood

-beside the table, leaning the tips of her fingers on it in an attitude

-of intense earnestness. She was trying to conceal the anger and dismay

-she felt at her aunt's reply.

-

-"Mrs. Prettyman has relatives at Exeter," said Mrs. de Tracy without

-the quiver of an eyelid.

-

-"Yes; but they are poor. They aren't very near relations, and they

-don't want her. O Aunt de Tracy, is it necessary to make her leave?

-She depends upon the plum tree so! She makes twenty-five dollars a

-year from the jam!"

-

-"Dollars have no significance for me," said Mrs. de Tracy with an icy

-smile.

-

-"Well, pounds then: five pounds she makes. How is she ever going to

-live without that, unless you give her the equivalent? It's half her

-livelihood! I promised you would consider it? Was I wrong?"

-

-Old bitternesses rose in Mrs. de Tracy's heart, the prejudices and the

-grudges of a lifetime. Everything connected with Robinette's mother

-had been wrong in her eyes, and now everything connected with

-Robinette was wrong too, and becoming more so with startling

-rapidity.

-

-"You had no right whatsoever to make any promises on my behalf," she

-now said harshly. "You have acted foolishly and officiously. This is

-no business of yours."

-

-"I'll gladly make it my business if you'll let me, Aunt de Tracy!"

-pleaded Robinette. "If you don't feel inclined to provide for Mrs.

-Prettyman, mayn't I? She is my mother's old nurse and she shan't want

-for anything as long as I have a penny to call my own!" Robinette's

-eyes filled with tears, but Mrs. de Tracy was not a whit moved by this

-show of emotion, which appeared to her unnecessary and theatrical.

-

-"You are forgetting yourself a good deal in your way of speaking to me

-on this subject," she said coldly. "When I behaved unbecomingly in my

-youth, my mother always recommended me to go upstairs, shut myself up

-alone in my room, and collect my thoughts. The process had invariably

-a calming effect. I advise you to try it."

-

-Robinette did not need to be proffered the hint twice. She rushed out

-of the room like a whirlwind, not looking where she went. In the hall,

-she came face to face with Lavendar, who had just left the dining

-room.

-

-"Mr. Lavendar!" she cried. "Do go into the drawing room and speak to

-my aunt. Preach to her! Argue with her! Convince her that she can't

-and mustn't act in this way; can't go and turn Mrs. Prettyman out, and

-rob her of the plum tree, and leave her with hardly a penny in the

-world or a roof over her head!"

-

-"It's not a very pretty or a very pleasant business, Mrs. Loring, I

-admit," said Lavendar quietly.

-

-"Is it English law?" cried Robinette with indignation. "If it is, I

-call it mean and unjust!"

-

-"Sometimes the laws seem very hard," said Lavendar. "I'd like to

-discuss this affair with you quietly another time."

-

-As he spoke, Carnaby appeared and wanted to be told what the matter

-was, but Robinette discovered that it is not very easy to criticise a

-grandmother to her youthful grandson, more especially when the lady in

-question is your hostess.

-

-"Aunt de Tracy and I have had a little difference of opinion about

-Mrs. Prettyman and her cottage, and the plum tree," she said to the

-boy quietly, and Lavendar nodded approval.

-

-"Prettyman's got the sack, hasn't she?" Carnaby enquired with a boy's

-carelessness.

-

-Robinette looked very grave. "My dear old nurse is to leave her

-cottage," she said with a quiver in her voice. "She's to lose her plum

-tree--"

-

-"But of course she'll get compensation," cried Carnaby.

-

-"No, Middy; she's to get no compensation," said Robinette in a low

-voice.

-

-"Well, I call that jolly hard! It's a beastly shame," said Carnaby,

-evidently pricking up his ears and with a sudden frown that changed

-his face. "I say, Mark--" But Lavendar did not think the moment

-suitable for a discussion of Mrs. Prettyman's wrongs. Besides, he did

-not wish Robinette to be banished from the drawing room for a whole

-interminable evening. He contrived to silence Carnaby for the time

-being.

-

-"Let's bury the hatchet for a little while," he suggested. "Have you

-forgotten, Mrs. Loring, that I made Mrs. de Tracy promise to show off

-the Stoke Revel jewels for your benefit this very night?"

-

-"O! but now I'm in disgrace, she won't!" said Robinette.

-

-"Yes, she will!" said Carnaby. "Nothing puts the old lady in such a

-heavenly temper as showing off the jewels. Don't you miss it, Cousin

-Robin! It's like the Tower of London and Madam Tussaud's rolled into

-one, this show, I can assure you. Come on! Come back into the drawing

-room. Needn't be afraid when Mark's there!"

-

-Robinette found that a black look or two was all that she had to fear

-from Mrs. de Tracy at present, and even these became less severe

-under the alchemy of Lavendar's tact. A reminder that an exhibition of

-the jewelry had been promised was graciously received. Bates and

-Benson were summoned, and armed with innumerable keys, they descended

-to subterranean regions where safes were unlocked and jewel-boxes

-solemnly brought into the drawing room. Mrs. de Tracy wore an air

-almost devotional, as she unlocked the final receptacles with keys

-never allowed to leave her own hands.

-

-"If the proceedings had begun with prayer and ended with a hymn, it

-wouldn't have surprised me in the least!" Robinette said to herself,

-looking silently on. Her silence, luckily for her, was taken for the

-speechlessness of awe, and did a good deal to make up, in the eyes of

-her august relative, for her late indiscretions. As a matter of fact,

-her irreverent thoughts were mostly to the effect that all but the

-historical pieces of the Stoke Revel _corbeille_ would be the better

-of re-setting by Tiffany or Cartier.

-

-Mrs. de Tracy opened an old shagreen case and the firelight flickered

-on the diamonds of a small tiara.

-

-"This is a part of the famous Montmorency set," she announced proudly,

-with the tone of a Keeper of Regalia. Then she took out a rope of

-pearls ending in tassels. "These belonged to Marie Antoinette," she

-said.

-

-An emerald set was next produced, and the emeralds, it was explained,

-had once adorned a crown. Deep green they were, encrusted in their

-diamond setting; costly, unique; but they left Robinette cold, though

-like most American women, she loved precious stones as an adornment.

-One of those emeralds, she was thinking, was worth fifty times more

-than old Lizzie Prettyman's cottage: the sale of one of them would

-have averted that other sale which was to cause so much distress to a

-poor harmless old woman.

-

-"When do you wear your jewels, Aunt de Tracy?" she asked gravely.

-

-"I have not worn them since the Admiral's death," was the virtuous

-reply, "and I have never called or considered them mine, Robinetta.

-They are the de Tracy jewels. When Carnaby takes his place as the head

-of the house, they will be his. He will see that his wife wears them

-on the proper occasions."

-

-"Carnaby's wife!" thought Robinette. "Why! she mayn't be born! He may

-never have a wife! And to think of all those precious stones hiding

-their brightness in these boxes like prisoners in a dungeon for years

-and years, only to be let out now and then by Bates and Benson,

-jingling their keys like jailers! And this house is a prison too!" she

-said to herself; "a prison for souls!" and the thought of its hoarded

-wealth made her indignant; all this hidden treasure in a house where

-there was never enough to eat, where guests shivered in fireless

-bedrooms, where servants would not stay because they were starved! And

-Carnaby, too, whose youth was being embittered by unnecessary

-economies: Carnaby, who had so little pocket-money that he was a

-laughing-stock among his fellows--it was for Carnaby these sacrifices

-were being made! Strange traditions! Fetiches of family pride almost

-as grotesque to her thinking as those of any savages under the sun.

-

-"My poor dear Middy!" she thought. "What chance has he, brought up in

-an atmosphere like this?" But she happened to raise her eyes at the

-moment, and to see the actual Carnaby of the moment, not the Carnaby

-her gloomy imagination was evoking from the future with the "petty

-hoard of maxims preaching down" his heart. He had contrived to get

-hold of the Marie Antoinette pearls without his grandmother's

-knowledge and to hang them around his neck; he had poised the

-Montmorency tiara on his own sleek head; he had forced a heavy

-bracelet by way of collar round Rupert's throat, and now with that

-choking and goggling unfortunate held partner-wise in his arms, he was

-waltzing on tiptoe about the farther drawing room behind the

-unconscious backs of Mrs. de Tracy and Miss Smeardon.

-

-"He's only a careless boy," thought Robinette, "a happy-go-lucky,

-devil-may-care, hare-brained youngster. They can't have poisoned his

-nature yet, and I'm sure he has a good heart. If he were at the head

-of affairs at Stoke Revel instead of his grandmother, I wonder what

-would be done in the matter of my poor old nurse?" Robinette stood in

-the doorway for a moment before going up to her room. Her whole

-attitude spoke depression as Carnaby stole up behind her.

-

-"See here, Cousin Robin, I can't bear to have you go on like this.

-Don't take Prettyman's trouble so to heart. We'll do something! I'll

-do something myself! I have a happy thought."

-

-

-

-

-XIX

-

-LAWYER AND CLIENT

-

-

-Robinette had a bad night after the jewel exhibition, and a heavy head

-and aching eyes prompted her to ask Little Cummins to bring her

-breakfast to her bedroom.

-

-It was touching to see that small person hovering over Robinette:

-stirring the fire, sweeping the hearth, looping back the curtains,

-tucking the slippers out of sight, and moving about the room like a

-mother ministering to an ailing child. Finally she staggered in with

-the heavy breakfast tray that she had carried through long halls and

-up the stairs, and put it on the table by the bed.

-

-"There's a new-laid egg, ma'am, that cook 'ad for the mistress, but I

-thought you needed it more; an' I brewed the tea meself, to be sure,"

-she cooed; "an' I've spread the loaf same as you like, an' cut the

-bread thin, an' 'ere's one o' the roses you allers wears to breakfast;

-an' wouldn't your erming coat be a comfort, ma'am?"

-

-"Dear Little Cummins! How did you know I needed comfort? How did you

-guess I was homesick?"

-

-Robinette leaned her head against the housemaid's rough hand, always

-stained with black spots that would give way to no scrubbing. From

-morning to night she was in the coal scuttle or the grate or the

-saucer of black lead, for she did nothing but lay fires, light fires,

-feed fires, and tidy up after fires, for eight or nine months of the

-year.

-

-"You mustn't touch me, ma'am; I ain't fit; there's smut on me, an'

-hashes, this time o' day," said Little Cummins.

-

-"I don't care. I like you better with ashes than lots of people

-without. You mustn't stay in the coal scuttle all your life, Little

-Cummins; you must be my chambermaid some of these days when we can get

-a good substitute for Mrs. de Tracy. Would you like that, if the

-mistress will let you go?"

-

-Little Cummins put her apron up to her eyes, and from its depths came

-inarticulate bursts of gratitude and joy. Then peeping from it just

-enough to see the way to the door, she ran out like a hare and

-secluded herself in the empty linen-room until she was sufficiently

-herself to join the other servants.

-

-Robinette finished her breakfast and dressed. She had lacked courage

-to meet the family party, although she longed for a talk with Mark

-Lavendar. It was entirely normal, feminine, and according to all law,

-human and divine, but it appealed also to her sense of humour, that

-she should feel that this new man-friend could straighten out all the

-difficulties in the path. She waited patiently at her window until she

-saw him walk around the corner of the house, under the cedars, and up

-the twisting path, his head bent and bare, his hands in his pockets.

-Then she flung her blue cape over her shoulders and followed him.

-

-"Mr. Lavendar," she called, as she caught up with his slow step, "you

-said you would advise me a little. Let us sit on this bench a moment

-and find out how we can untangle all the knots into which Aunt de

-Tracy tied us yesterday. I am so afraid of her that I am sure I spoke

-timidly and respectfully to her at first; but perhaps I showed more

-feeling at the end than I should. I am willing to apologize to her for

-any lack of courtesy, but I don't see how I can retract anything I

-said."

-

-"It is hard for you," Lavendar replied, "because you have a natural

-affection for your mother's old nurse; and Mrs. de Tracy, I begin to

-believe, is more than indifferent to her. She has some active dislike,

-perhaps, the source of which is unknown to us."

-

-"But she is so unjust!" cried Robinette. "I never heard of an Irish

-landlord in a novel who would practice such a piece of eviction. If I

-must stand by and see it done, then I shall assert my right to provide

-for Nurse and move her into a new dwelling. After you left the drawing

-room last night, I begged as tactfully as I could that Aunt de Tracy

-would sell me some of the jewels, so that she need not part with the

-land at Wittisham. She was very angry, and wouldn't hear of it. Then I

-proposed buying the plum-tree cottage, that it might be kept in the

-family, and she was furious at my audacity. Perhaps the Admiral's

-niece is _not_ in the family."

-

-"She cannot endure anything like patronage, or even an assumption of

-equality," said Lavendar. "You must be careful there."

-

-"Should I be likely to patronize?" asked Robinette reproachfully.

-

-"No; but your acquaintance with your aunt is a very brief one, and she

-is an extraordinary character; hard to understand. You may easily

-stumble on a prejudice of hers at every step."

-

-"I shouldn't like to understand her any better than I do now," and

-Robinette pushed back her hair rebelliously.

-

-"Will you be my client for about five minutes?" asked Lavendar.

-

-"Yes, willingly enough, for I see nothing before me but to take Nurse

-Prettyman and depart in the first steamer for America."

-

-Mrs. Loring looked as if she were quite capable of this rather radical

-proceeding, and very much, too, as if any growing love for Lavendar

-that she might have, would easily give way under this new pressure of

-circumstances.

-

-"This is the situation in a nutshell," said Lavendar, filling his

-pipe. "Mrs. de Tracy is entirely within her legal rights when she asks

-Mrs. Prettyman to leave the cottage; legally right also when she

-declines to give compensation for the plum tree that has been a source

-of income; financially right moreover in selling cottage and land at a

-fancy price to find money for needed improvements on the estate."

-

-"None of this can be denied, I allow."

-

-"All these legal rights could have been softened if Mrs. de Tracy had

-been willing to soften them, but unfortunately she has been put on the

-defensive. She did not like it when I opposed her in the first place.

-She did not like it when my father advised her to make some small

-settlement, as he did, several days ago. She resented Mrs. Prettyman's

-assumption of owning the plum tree; she was outraged at your valiant

-espousing of your nurse's cause."

-

-"I see; we have simply made her more determined in her injustice."

-

-"Now it is all very well for you to show your mettle," Lavendar went

-on, "for you to endure your aunt's displeasure rather than give up a

-cause you know to be just; but look where it lands us."

-

-Robinette raised her troubled eyes to Lavendar's, giving a sigh to

-show she realized that her landing-place would be wherever the lawyer

-fixed it, not where she wished it.

-

-"Go on," she sighed patiently.

-

-"Your legal adviser regards it as impossible that you should come over

-from America and quarrel with your mother's family;--your only family,

-in point of fact. If this affair is fought to a finish you will feel

-like leaving your aunt's house."

-

-"I shouldn't have to wait for that feeling," said Robinette

-irrepressibly. "Aunt de Tracy would have it first!"

-

-"In such an event I could and would stand by you, naturally."

-

-"_Would_ you?" cried Robinette glowing instantly like a jewel.

-

-Lavendar looked at her in amazement. "Pray what do you take me for? On

-whose side could I, should I be, my dear--my dear Mrs. Loring? But to

-keep to business. In the event stated above, neither my father nor I

-could very well continue to have charge of the estate. That is a small

-matter, but increases the difficulties, owing to a long friendship

-dating back to the Admiral's time. Then we have Carnaby. Carnaby, my

-dear Mrs. Loring, belongs to you. Do you want to give him up? He

-adores you and you will have an unbounded influence on him, if you

-choose to exercise it."

-

-"How can I influence Carnaby--in America?"

-

-This was a blow, but Lavendar made no sign. "You may not always be in

-America," he said. "Now why not let Mrs. de Tracy sell the land and

-cottage and plum tree in the ordinary course of things? Oh, how I wish

-_I_ could buy the blessed thing!" he exclaimed, parenthetically.

-

-"Oh! how I wish _I_ could buy the plum tree, and keep it, always

-blossoming, in my morning-room!" sighed Robinette.

-

-"But unfortunately, Waller R. A. will buy the plum tree, confound him!

-Now, just after Mrs. de Tracy has definitely sold the premises and all

-their appurtenances, suppose you, in your prettiest and most docile

-way (docility not being your strong point!) ask your aunt if she has

-any objection to your taking care of Mrs. Prettyman during the few

-years remaining to her. Meantime keep her from irritating Mrs. de

-Tracy, and make the poor old dear happy with plans for her future. If

-you are short on docility you are long on making people happy!"

-

-"Never did I hear such an argument! It would make Macduff fall into

-the arms of Macbeth; it would tranquillize the Kilkenny cats

-themselves! I'll run in and apologize abjectly to my thrice guilty

-aunt, then I'll reward myself by going over to Wittisham."

-

-"If you'll take the ferry over, I'd like to come and fetch you if I

-may. That shall be my reward."

-

-"Reward for what?"

-

-"For giving you advice very much against my personal inclinations.

-Courses of action founded entirely on policy do not appeal to me very

-strongly."

-

-

-

-

-XX

-

-THE NEW HOME

-

-

-It was in rather a chastened spirit that Robinette set off to see Mrs.

-Prettyman. "I've been foolish, I've been imprudent; oh! dear me! I've

-still so much to learn!" she sighed to herself. "No good is ever done

-by losing one's temper; it only puts everything wrong. I shall have to

-try and take Mr. Lavendar's advice. I must be very prudent with Nurse

-this morning--never show her that I think Aunt de Tracy is in the

-wrong; just persuade her ever so gently to move to another home, and

-arrange with her where it is to be."

-

-It is always difficult for an impetuous nature like Robinette's to

-hold back about anything. She would have liked to run straight into

-Mrs. Prettyman's room, and, flinging her arms round the old woman's

-neck, cry out to her that everything was settled. And instead she

-must come to the point gently, prudently, wisely, "like other people"

-as she said to herself.

-

-The cottage seemed very still that afternoon, and Robinette knocked

-twice before she heard the piping old voice cry out to her to come

-in.

-

-"Why, Nurse dear, where are you? Were you asleep?" Robinette said as

-she entered, for Mrs. Prettyman was not sitting in the fine new chair.

-Then she found that the voice answered from the little bedroom off the

-kitchen, and that the old woman was in bed.

-

-"I ain't ill, so to speak, dear, just weary in me bones," she

-explained, as Robinette sat down beside her. "And Mrs. Darke, me

-neighbour, she sez to me, 'You do take the day in bed, Mrs. Prettyman,

-me dear, an' I'll do your bit of work for 'ee'--so 'ere I be, Missie,

-right enough."

-

-"I'm afraid you were worried yesterday," said Robinette; "worried

-about leaving the house."

-

-"I were, Missie, I were," she confessed.

-

-"That's why I came to-day; you must stop worrying, for I've settled

-all about it. I spoke to my aunt last night, and it's true that you

-have to leave this house; but now I've come to make arrangements with

-you about a new one."

-

-The old woman covered her face with her hands and gave a little cry

-that went straight to Robinette's heart.

-

-"Lor' now, Miss, 'ow am I ever to leave this place where I've been all

-these years? I thought yesterday as you said 'twas a mistake I'd

-made."

-

-"But alas, it wasn't altogether a mistake," Robinette had to confess

-sadly, her eyes filling with tears as she realized how she had only

-doubled her old friend's disappointment. Then she sat forward and took

-Mrs. Prettyman's hand in hers.

-

-"Nursie dear," she said, "I don't want you to grieve about leaving

-the old home, for it isn't an awfully good one; the new one is going

-to be ever so much better!"

-

-"That's so, I'm sure, dearie, only 'tis _new_," faltered Mrs.

-Prettyman. "If you're spared to my age, Missie, you'll find as new

-things scare you."

-

-"Ah, but not a new house, Nursie! Wait till I describe it! Everything

-strong and firm about it, not shaking in the storms as this one

-does; nice bright windows to let in all the sunshine; so no more

-'rheumatics' and no more tears of pain in your dear old eyes!"

-

-Robinette's voice failed suddenly, for it struck her all in a moment

-that her glowing description of the new home seemed to have in it

-something prophetic. That bent little figure beside her, these shaking

-limbs and dim old eyes,--all this house of life, once so carefully

-builded, was crumbling again into the dust, and its tenant indeed

-wanted a new one, quite, quite different! A sob rose in Robinette's

-throat, but she swallowed it down and went on gaily.

-

-"I've settled about another thing, too; you're to have another plum

-tree, or life wouldn't be the same thing to you. And you know they can

-transplant quite big trees now-a-days and make them grow wonderfully.

-Some one was telling me all about how it is done only a few days ago.

-They dig them up ever so carefully, and when they put them into the

-new hole, every tiny root is spread out and laid in the right

-direction in the ground, and patted and coaxed in, and made firm, and

-they just catch hold on the soil in the twinkle of an eye. Isn't it

-marvellous? Well, I'll have a fine new tree planted for you so

-cleverly that perhaps by next year you'll be having a few plums, who

-knows? And the next year more plums! And the next year, jam!"

-

-"'Twill be beautiful, sure enough," said the old woman, kindling at

-last under the description of all these joys. "And do you think,

-Missie, as the new cottage will really be curing of me rheumatics?"

-

-"Why yes, Nurse. Whoever heard of rheumatism in a dry new house?"

-

-"The house be new, but the rheumatics be old," said Mrs. Prettyman

-sagely.

-

-"Well, we can't make _you_ entirely new, but we'll do our best. I'm

-going to enquire about a nice cottage not very far from here; there's

-plenty of time before this one is sold. It shall be dry and warm and

-cosy, and you will feel another person in it altogether."

-

-"These new houses be terrible dear, bain't they?" the old woman said

-anxiously.

-

-"Not a bit; besides that's another matter I want to settle with you,

-Nursie. I'm going to pay the rent always, and you're going to have a

-nice little girl to help you with the work, and there will be

-something paid to you each month, so that you won't have any

-anxiety."

-

-"Oh, Missie, Missie, whatever be you sayin'? _Me_ never to have no

-anxiety again!"

-

-"You never shall, if I can help it; old people should never have

-worries; that's what young people are here for, to look after them and

-keep them happy."

-

-Mrs. Prettyman lay back on the pillow and gazed at Robinette

-incredulously; it wasn't possible that such a solution had come to all

-her troubles. For seventy odd years she had worked and struggled and

-sometimes very nearly starved and here was some one assuring her that

-these struggles were over forever, that she needn't work hard any

-more, or ever worry again. Could it be true? And all to come from Miss

-Cynthia's daughter!

-

-Robinette bent down and kissed the wrinkled old face softly.

-

-"Good-night, Nursie dear," she said. "I'm not going to stay any longer

-with you to-day, because you're tired. Have a good sleep, and waken up

-strong and bright."

-

-"Good-night, Missie, good-night, dear," the old woman said. Her face

-had taken on an expression of such peacefulness as it had never worn

-before.

-

-She turned over on her pillow and closed her eyes, scarcely waiting

-for Robinette to leave the room.

-

-"I've been allowed to do that, anyway," Robinette said to herself,

-standing in the doorway to look back at the quiet sleeper, and then

-looking forward to a little boat nearing the shore. The cottage

-sheltered almost the only object that connected her with her past; the

-boat, she felt, held all her future.

-

-                  *       *       *       *       *

-

-The river, when Lavendar rowed himself across it, was very quiet. "The

-swelling of Jordan," as Robinette called the rising tide, was over;

-now the glassy water reflected every leaf and twig from the trees that

-hung above its banks and dipped into it here and there.

-

-Mooring his boat at the landing, Mark sauntered up to Mrs. Prettyman's

-cottage, and having tapped lightly at the door to let Mrs. Loring

-know of his arrival, as they had agreed he should do, he went along

-the flagged pathway into the garden, and sat down on the edge of the

-low wall that divided it from the river. Just in front of him was the

-little worn bench where he had first seen Robinette as she sat beside

-her old nurse with the tiny shoe on her lap. It was scarcely a

-fortnight ago; yet it seemed to him that he could hardly remember the

-kind of man he had been that afternoon; a new self, full of a new

-purpose, and at that moment of a new hope, had taken the place of the

-objectless being he had been before.

-

-Everything was very still; there was scarcely a sound from the village

-or from the shipping farther down the river. Lavendar fancied he heard

-Robinette's clear voice within the cottage; then he started suddenly

-and the blood rushed to his heart as he listened to her light steps

-coming along the paved footpath.

-

-"Here you are!" she whispered. "Let us not speak too loud, for Nurse

-was just dropping asleep when I left her. I've put a table-cover and

-a blanket over 'Mrs. Mackenzie' to keep her from quacking. Mrs.

-Prettyman has not been very well, poor dear, and is in bed. We've just

-talked about the lovely new home she's going to have, and the

-transplanted plum tree; small, but warranted to bear in a year or two

-and give plums and jam like this one. I left her so happy!"

-

-She stopped and looked up. "Oh! can any new tree be as beautiful as

-this one? Was ever anything in the world more exquisite? It has

-just come to its hour of perfection, Mr. Lavendar; it couldn't

-last,--anything so lovely in a passing world."

-

-She sat down on the low wall, and looked up at the tree. It stood and

-shone there in its perfect hour. Another day, and the blossoms, too

-fully blown, would begin to drift upon the ground with every little

-shaking wind; now it was at its zenith, a miracle of such white beauty

-that it caused the heart to stop and consider. Bees and butterflies

-hummed and flew around it; it cast a delicate shadow on the grass, and

-leaning across the wall it was imaged again in the river like a bride

-in her looking-glass.

-

-Robinette sat gazing at the tree, and Lavendar sat gazing at her. At

-that moment he "feared his fate too much" to break the silence by any

-question that might shatter his hope, as the first breeze would break

-the picture that had taken shape in the glassy water beneath them.

-

-"I feel in a better temper now," said Robinette. "Who could be angry,

-and look at that beautiful thing? I've left dear old Nurse quite happy

-again, and I haven't yet offended Aunt de Tracy irrevocably, and all

-because you persuaded me not to be unreasonable. All the same I could

-do it again in another minute if I let myself go. Doesn't injustice

-ever make people angry in England?"

-

-Lavendar laughed. "It often makes me feel angry, but I've never found

-that throwing the reins on the horses' necks when they wanted to

-bolt, made one go along the right road any faster in the end."

-

-"I often think," said Robinette, "if we could see people really angry

-and disagreeable before we--" She hesitated and added, "get to know

-them well, we should be so much more careful."

-

-"Yes," said Mark, bending down his head and speaking very deliberately,

-"that's why I wish you could have seen me in all my worst moments.

-I'd stand the shame of it, if you could only know, but, alas, one

-can't show off one's worst moments to order; they must be hit upon

-unexpectedly."

-

-"I don't believe thirty years of life would teach one about some

-people--they are so _crevicey_," said Robinette musingly. She had

-risen and leaned against the plum tree for a moment, looking up

-through the white branches.

-

-Lavendar rose and stood beside her. "Thirty years--I shall be getting

-on to seventy in thirty years."

-

-A little gust of wind shook the tree; some petals came drifting down

-upon them, like white moths, like flakes of summer snow, a warning

-that the brief hour of perfection would soon be past ... and under it

-human creatures were talking about thirty years!

-

-

-

-

-XXI

-

-CARNABY CUTS THE KNOT

-

-

-That afternoon, Carnaby was having what he called "an absolutely

-mouldy time," and since his leave was running out and his remaining

-afternoons were few, he considered himself an injured individual.

-Robinette and Lavendar seemed for ever preoccupied either with each

-other or with some subject of discussion, the ins and outs of which

-they had not confided to him.

-

-"It's partly that blessed plum tree," he said to himself; "but of

-course they're spooning too. Very likely they're engaged by this time.

-Didn't I tell her she'd marry again? Well, if she must, it might as

-well be old Lavendar as anyone else. He's a decent chap, or he was,

-before he fell in love."

-

-Carnaby sighed. This effort of generosity towards his rival made him

-feel peculiarly disconsolate. He had fished and rowed on the river all

-the morning; he had ferreted; he had fed Rupert with a private

-preparation of rabbits which infallibly made him sick, the desired

-result being obtained with almost provoking celerity. Thus even

-success had palled, and Carnaby's sharp and idle wits had begun to

-work on the problem which seemed to be occupying his elders. Neither

-Robinette nor Lavendar could expatiate to the boy on his grandmother's

-peculiarities, but Carnaby had contrived to find out for himself how

-the land lay.

-

-"Why is Waller R. A. so keen on the plum tree?" he had enquired.

-

-"He wants to make a quartette of studies," answered Lavendar. "The

-Plum Tree in spring, summer, autumn, and winter."

-

-"What a rotten idea!" said Carnaby simply.

-

-"Far from rotten, my young friend, I can assure you!" Lavendar

-returned. "It will furnish coloured illustrations for countless

-summer numbers of the _Graphic_ and _The Lady's Pictorial_, and fill

-Waller R. A.'s pockets with gold, some of which will shortly filter in

-advance into the Stoke Revel banking account, we hope."

-

-"I'm not so sure about that!" said Carnaby; but he said it to himself,

-while aloud he only asked with much apparent innocence, "Waller R. A.

-wouldn't look at the cottage or the land without the plum tree, I

-suppose?"

-

-"Certainly not," Lavendar had answered. "The plum tree is safeguarded

-in the agreement as I'm sure no plum tree ever was before. Waller R.

-A.'s no fool!"

-

-Digesting this information and much else that he had gleaned, Carnaby

-now climbed to the top of a tree where he had a favourite perch, and

-did some serious and simple thinking.

-

-"It's a beastly shame," he said to himself, "to turn that old woman

-out of her cottage. Cousin Robin thinks it's a beastly shame, and

-what's more, Mark does, and he's a man, and a lawyer into the

-bargain."

-

-Carnaby thought remorsefully of a pot of jam which old Mrs. Prettyman

-had given him once to take back to college. What good jam it had

-been, and how large the pot! He had never given her anything--he had

-never a penny to bless himself with; and now his grandmother was

-taking away from the poor old creature all that she had. "It's

-regular covetousness," he thought, "and that infernal plum tree's at

-the bottom of it all. Naboth's vineyard is a joke in comparison, and

-What's-his-name and the one ewe lamb simply aren't in it." He grew

-hot with mortification. Then he reflected, "If the plum tree weren't

-there, Waller R. A. wouldn't want the cottage, and old Mrs. Prettyman

-could live in it till the end of the chapter." A slow grin dawned upon

-his face, its most mischievous expression, the one which Rupert with

-canine sagacity had learned to dread. He felt and pinched the

-muscle of his arm fondly. (_Mussle_ he always spelled the word

-himself, upon phonetic principles.)

-

-"I may be a fool and a minor" (generally spelt _miner_ by him), he

-said, as he climbed down from his perch, "but at least I can cut down

-a tree!"

-

-He became lost to view forthwith in the workshops and tool-sheds

-attached to the home premises of Stoke Revel, and presently emerged,

-furnished with the object he had made diligent and particular search

-for; this he proceeded to carry in an inconspicuous way to a distant

-cottage where he knew there was a grindstone. He spent a happy hour

-with the object, the grindstone, and a pail of water. _Whirr_,

-_whirr_, _whirr_, sang the grindstone, now softly, now loudly--"_this

-is an axe, an axe, an axe, and a strong arm that holds it_!"

-

-"You be goin' to do a bit of forestry on your own, Master Carnaby,

-eh?" suggested the grinning owner of the grindstone.

-

-"I am; a very particular bit, Jones!" replied the young master,

-lovingly feeling the edge of the tool, which was now nearly as fine as

-that of a razor.

-

-"You be careful, sir, as you don't chop off one of your own toes with

-that there axe," said the man. "It be full heavy for one o' your age.

-But there! you zailor-men be that handy! 'Tis your trade, so to

-speak!"

-

-"Quite right, Jones, it is!" replied Carnaby. "Good-afternoon and

-thank you for the use of the grindstone." He was already planning

-where he would hide the axe, for he had precise ideas about everything

-and left nothing to chance.

-

-Carnaby went to bed that night at his usual hour. His profession had

-already accustomed him to awaking at odd intervals, and he had more

-than the ordinary boy's knowledge of moon and tide, night and dawn.

-When he slipped out of bed after a few hours of sound sleep, he put on

-a flannel shirt and trousers and a broad belt, and then, carrying his

-boots in his hand, crept out of his room and through the sleeping

-house. He would much rather have climbed out of the window, in a

-manner more worthy of such an adventure, but his return in that

-fashion might offer dangers in daylight. So he was content with an

-unfrequented garden door which he could leave on the latch.

-

-The moon, which had been young when she lighted the lovers in the

-mud-bank adventure, was now a more experienced orb and shed a useful

-light. Carnaby intended to cross the river in a small tub which was

-propelled by a single oar worked at the stern, the rower standing.

-This craft was intended for pottering about the shore; to cross the

-river in it was the dangerous feat of a skilled waterman, but Carnaby

-had a knack of his own with every floating thing. As he balanced

-himself in the rocking tub, bare-headed, bare-necked, bare-armed,

-paddling with the grace and ease of strength and training, he looked

-a man, but a man young with the youth of the gods. The moon shone in

-his keen grey eyes and made them sparkle. A cold sea-wind blew up the

-river, but he did not feel its chill, for blood hot with adventure

-raced in his veins.

-

-Wittisham was in profound darkness when he landed, and the moon having

-gone behind a bank of cloud, he had to grope his way to Mrs.

-Prettyman's cottage, shouldering the axe. The isolated position of the

-house alone made the adventure possible, he reflected; he could not

-have cut down a tree in the hearing of neighbours, and as to old

-Elizabeth herself, he hoped she was deaf. Most old women were, he

-reflected, except unfortunately his grandmother!

-

-Soon he was entering the little garden and sniffing the scent of

-blossom, which was very strong in the night air. He could see the dim

-outline of the plum tree, and just as he wanted light, the moon came

-out and shone upon its whiteness, giving a sort of spiritual beauty

-to the flowering thing that was very exquisite.

-

-"What price, Waller R. A. now?" thought Carnaby impishly. "The plum

-tree in moonlight! eh? Wouldn't he give his eyes to see it! But he

-won't! Not if I know it!" The boy was as blind to the tree's beauty as

-his grandmother had been, but he had scientific ideas how to cut it

-down, for he had watched the felling of many a tree.

-

-First, standing on a lower branch, you lopped off all the side shoots

-as high as you could reach. This made the trunk easy to deal with, and

-its fall less heavy, and Carnaby set to work.

-

-"She goes through them all as slick as butter!" he said to himself in

-high satisfaction. The axe had assumed a personality to him and was

-"she," not "it." "She makes no more noise than a pair of scissors

-cutting flowers; not half so much!" he said proudly. Branch after

-branch fell down and lay about the tree like the discarded garments of

-a bathing nymph. The petals fell upon Carnaby's face, upon his hair

-and shoulders; he was a white figure as he toiled. Frightened birds

-and bats flew about, but he did not notice them. His only care was the

-cottage itself and its inmate. If _she_ should awake! But the little

-habitation, shrouded in thatch and deep in shadow, was dark and silent

-as the grave.

-

-"She must be sound asleep and deaf," thought the boy. "Yes, very

-deaf." He paused. The first stage in his task was accomplished.

-Shivering and naked, one absurd tuft of blossom and leaves at the

-tip--the murdered tree now stood in the moonlight, imploring the _coup

-de grace_ which should end its shame.

-

-"Jolly well done," said the murderer complacently. He stretched his

-arms, looked at the palms of his hands to see if they had blistered,

-and addressed himself to the second part of his business. Thud! thud!

-went the axe on the trunk of the tree, and the sweat broke out all

-over Carnaby's skin, not with exertion but with nervous terror.

-

-"If that doesn't wake the dead!" he thought--but there was no awaking

-in the cottage. Its tiny window blinked in the moonlight, and Carnaby

-thought he heard the drowsy quack of a duck in an out-house. But the

-danger passed. Thud! went the axe again. The slim severed shaft of the

-tree was poised a moment, motionless, erect before it fell. Then it

-subsided gently among its broken and trodden boughs, and Carnaby's

-task was done.

-

-

-

-

-XXII

-

-CONSEQUENCES

-

-

-Early that morning before the sun had risen, when the light was still

-grey in the coming dawn, Robinette was awakened by a bird that called

-out from a tree close to her open window, every note like the striking

-of a golden bell. She jumped up and looked out, but the little singer,

-silenced, had flown away. Instead, she caught sight of a figure

-stealing across the lawn towards the side door which opened from the

-library. Even in the dim light she could distinguish that it was

-Carnaby, Carnaby with something in his hand. What he carried she could

-not quite make out, but the sleeves of his flannel shirt were rolled

-up above his elbows in a fatally business-like way, and he walked with

-an air of stealth.

-

-"What mischief can that boy have been up to at this time of day?"

-thought Robinette as she lay down again, but she was too sleepy to

-wonder long.

-

-She forgot all about it until she saw Carnaby at the breakfast table

-some hours later. Sometimes the gloom of that meal--never a favorite

-or convivial one in the English household, and most certainly neither

-at Stoke Revel--would be enlivened by some of the boy's pranks. He

-would pass over to the sideboard, pepper-pot slyly in hand, and

-Rupert, whose meal at this hour consisted of grape-nuts and cream,

-would unaccountably sneeze and snuffle over his plate.

-

-"Bless it, Bobs!" his tormentor would exclaim tenderly. "Is it

-catching cold? Poor old Kitchener! Hi! _Kitch!_ _Kitch!_" (like a

-violent sneeze) and the outraged Rupert would forget grape-nuts and

-pepper alike in a fit of impotent fury. But this morning the dog fed

-in peace and Carnaby never glanced at him or his basin. Robinette,

-looking at the boy and remembering where she had seen him last,

-noticed that he was rather silent, that his cheeks were redder than

-common, and that under his eyes were lines of fatigue not usually

-there.

-

-"What were you doing on the lawn at four o'clock this morning?" she

-began, but checked herself, suddenly thinking that if Carnaby had been

-up to mischief she must not allude to it before his grandmother.

-

-No one had heard her. The meal dragged on. Robinette and Lavendar

-talked little. Miss Smeardon was preoccupied with the sufferings and

-the moods of Rupert. Mrs. de Tracy alone seemed in better spirits than

-usual; she was talkative and even balmy.

-

-"The work at the spinney begins to-day," she observed complacently,

-addressing herself to Lavendar and alluding to the rooting up of an

-old copse and the planting of a new one--an improvement she had long

-planned, though hitherto in vain. "The young trees have arrived."

-

-"But where is the money to come from?" enquired Carnaby suddenly, in

-a sepulchral tone. (His voice was at the disagreeable breaking stage,

-an agony and a shame to himself and always a surprise to others.) His

-grandmother stared: the others, too, looked in astonishment at the

-boy's red face.

-

-"I thought it had all been explained to you, Carnaby," said Mrs. de

-Tracy, "but you take so little interest in the estate that I suppose

-what you have been told went in at one ear and out at the other, as

-usual! It is the sale of land at Wittisham which makes these

-improvements possible, advantages drawn from a painful necessity," and

-the iron woman almost sighed.

-

-"There won't be any sale of land at Wittisham,--at least, not of Mrs.

-Prettyman's cottage," said Carnaby abruptly.

-

-"It is practically settled. The transfers only remain to be signed;

-you know that, Carnaby," said Lavendar curtly. He did not wish the

-vexed question to be raised again at a meal.

-

-"It _was_ practically settled--but it's all off now," said the boy,

-looking hard at his grandmother. "Waller R. A. won't want the place

-any more. The bloomin' plum tree's gone--cut down. The bargain's off,

-and old Mrs. Prettyman can stay on in her cottage as long as she

-likes!"

-

-There was a freezing silence, broken only by the stertorous breathing

-of Rupert on Miss Smeardon's lap.

-

-"Repeat, please, what you have just said, Carnaby," said his

-grandmother with dangerous calmness, "and speak distinctly."

-

-"I said that the cottage at Wittisham won't be sold because the plum

-tree's gone," repeated Carnaby doggedly. "It's been cut down."

-

-"How do you know?"

-

-"I've seen it." Carnaby raised his eyes. "I cut it down myself," he

-added, "this morning before daylight."

-

-"Who put such a thing into your head?" Mrs. de Tracy's words were ice:

-her glance of suspicion at Robinette, like the cold thrust of steel.

-"Who told you to cut the plum tree down?"

-

-"My conscience!" was Carnaby's unexpected reply. He was as red as

-fire, but his glance did not falter. Mrs. de Tracy rose. Not a muscle

-of her face had moved.

-

-"Whatever your action has been, Carnaby," she said with dignity--"whether

-foolish and disgraceful, or criminal and dangerous, it cannot be

-discussed here. You will follow me at once to the library, and

-presently I may send for Mark. A lawyer's advice will probably be

-necessary," she added grimly.

-

-Carnaby said not a word. He opened the door for his grandmother and

-followed her out; but as he passed Robinette, he looked at her

-earnestly, half expecting her applause; for one of the motives in his

-boyish mind had certainly been to please her--to shine in her eyes as

-the doer of bold deeds and to avenge her nurse's wrongs. And all that

-he had managed was to make her cry!

-

-For Robinette had put her elbows on the table and had covered her eyes

-with her hands. As he left the room, Carnaby could hear her

-exclamation:--

-

-"To cut down that tree! That beautiful, beautiful, fruitful thing! O!

-how could anyone do it?"

-

-So this was justice; this was all he got for his pains! How

-unaccountable women were!

-

-Lavendar awaited some time his summons to join Mrs. de Tracy and her

-grandson in what seemed to him must be a portentous interview enough,

-trying meanwhile somewhat unsuccessfully to console Mrs. Loring for

-the destruction of the plum tree, and exchanging with her somewhat

-awe-struck comments on the scene they had both just witnessed. No

-summons came, however; but half an hour later, he came across Carnaby

-alone, and an interview promptly ensued. He wanted to plumb the depth

-of the boy-mind and to learn exactly what motives had prompted

-Carnaby to this sudden and startling action in the matter of the plum

-tree.

-

-"Had you a bad quarter of an hour with your grandmother?" was his

-first question. Carnaby, he thought, looked subdued, and not much

-wonder.

-

-The boy hesitated.

-

-"Not so bad as I expected," was his answer. "The old lady was

-wonderfully decent, for her. She gave me a talking to, of course."

-

-"I should hope so!" interpolated Lavendar drily.

-

-"She jawed away about our poverty," continued Carnaby. "She's got

-that on the brain, as you know. She said that this loss of the

-money--Waller R. A.'s money, she means, of course--is an awful blow.

-She _said_ it was, but it seemed to me--" Carnaby paused, looking

-extremely puzzled.

-

-"It seemed to you--?" prompted Lavendar encouragingly.

-

-"That she wasn't so awfully cut up, after all," said Carnaby. "She

-seemed putting it on, if you know what I mean." Lavendar pricked up

-his ears. Mrs. de Tracy's intense reluctance to sell the land recurred

-to him in a flash. To get her consent had been like drawing a tooth,

-like taking her life-blood drop by drop. Could it be that she was not

-very sorry after all that the scheme had fallen through, secretly

-glad, indeed? It was conceivable that this was Mrs. de Tracy's view,

-but her grandson's motive was still obscure.

-

-"Why did you do it, Carnaby?" Lavendar asked with kindness and gravity

-both in his voice. "You have committed a very mischievous action, you

-know, one that would have borne a harsher name had the transfers been

-signed and had the plum tree changed hands."

-

-"But then I shouldn't have done it--you--you juggins, Mark!" cried the

-boy. "I've no earthly grudge against Waller R. A. If he'd actually

-bought the tree, it would have been too late, and his beastly

-money--"

-

-"You need the money, you know," remarked Lavendar. "Remember that, my

-young friend!"

-

-"It would have been dirty money!" said Carnaby, with a sudden

-flash that lit up his rather heavy face with a new expression.

-"You and Cousin Robin have been jolly polite when you thought I was

-listening, but _I_ know what you really thought, and the kind of

-things you were saying to one another about this business! You

-thought it beastly mean to take the cottage away from old Lizzie

-in the way it was being done, and sheer robbery to deprive her of

-the plum tree without paying her for it. I quite agreed with you

-there, and if I felt like that, do you think I could sit still and

-let the money come in to Stoke Revel--money that had been got in

-such a way? What do you take me for?" Lavendar was silent, looking

-at the boy in surprise. "Oh," continued Carnaby, "how I wish I were

-of age! Then I could show Cousin Robin, perhaps, what an English

-landlord can be! I mean that he can be a friend to his tenants, and

-kind and generous as well as just. As it is, Cousin Robin will go

-back to America and tell her friends what selfish brutes we are

-over here, and how jolly glad she was to get away!"

-

-"Mrs. Loring will carry no tales, I am sure," said Lavendar. "But tell

-me, my dear fellow, did you imagine that Mrs. Prettyman would be a

-gainer by your action?"

-

-"Well, why not?" answered the boy. "Didn't you tell me yourself that

-Waller R. A. wouldn't look at the cottage without the tree? What's to

-prevent the old woman living on where she is? Do you think there'll be

-a rush of new tenants for that precious old hovel? Go on! You know

-better than that!"

-

-"But the tree, Carnaby, the plum tree!" cried Lavendar. "My young

-Goth, hadn't you a moment's compunction? That beautiful, flowering

-thing, as your cousin called it; could you destroy it without a

-pang?"

-

-"The _tree_?" echoed Carnaby with unmeasured scorn. "What's a tree?

-It's just a tree, isn't it?"

-

-                    "A primrose by a river's brim

-                    A yellow primrose was to him,

-                    And it was nothing more!"

-

-quoted Mark, despairingly.

-

-"Well; and what more did he expect of a primrose, whoever the Johnny

-was?" asked the contemptuous Carnaby.

-

-"At any rate," commented Lavendar, "it isn't necessary to search as

-far as Peter Bell for an analogy for your character, my young friend!

-You are your grandmother's grandson after all!"

-

-"In some ways I suppose I can't help being," answered Carnaby soberly,

-"but not in all," he added, and suddenly turning red he fumbled in his

-pocket and produced a coin which he held out to Lavendar. "It's only

-ten bob," he said apologetically, "and I wish it was a jolly sight

-more! But please give it to old Mrs. Prettyman to make up a bit for

-the loss of her plums. Daresay I'll manage some more by and by.

-Anyway, I'll make it up to her when I come of age.--I'm nearly sixteen

-already, you know. Be sure you tell her that!"

-

-But Lavendar refused to take the money.

-

-"Mrs. Prettyman is provided for, my boy," he said. "She has become

-your cousin's especial care. You need have no fear about that. The

-poor old woman is very happy and will have a cottage more suited for

-her rheumatism and her general feebleness than the present one. But I

-think your cousin will understand your motives and believe that you

-meant well by old Lizzie in your little piece of midnight madness."

-

-"Though I was a bit rough on the plum tree!" said Carnaby, with a

-broad smile.

-

-"You think it's a laughing matter?" Lavendar asked indignantly. "I

-wish you had my father to deal with, and Waller R. A.! It's all very

-well for you."

-

-But Carnaby only laughed. The blood was still hot in his veins, and

-the joy of his night's adventure. Mark told him that he and Mrs.

-Loring were crossing the river at once to see for themselves the

-extent of his mischief and what effect it had had upon old Mrs.

-Prettyman. Carnaby observed with diabolical meaning that as he had not

-been invited to join the party, he would make himself scarce.

-Gooseberries, he said, were very good fruit, but he wasn't fond of

-them; so he lounged off with his hands in his pockets. Suddenly he

-turned. "See here, old Mark! You'll speak a word for me with Cousin

-Robin, won't you? It's hard on me to have her hate me when I was

-trying to do my best to please her."

-

-"She won't hate you; she couldn't hate anybody," said Lavendar

-absently, watching first the door and then the window.

-

-"You say that because you're in love with her! I've a couple of eyes

-in my head, stupid as you all think me. You can deny it all you like,

-but you won't convince me!"

-

-"I shan't deny it, Carnaby. I am so much in love with her at this

-moment that the room is whirling round and round and I can see two of

-you!"

-

-"Poor old Mark! Do you think she'll take you on?"

-

-"Can't say, Carnaby!"

-

-"You're a lucky beggar if she does; that's my opinion!" said the boy.

-

-"Put it as strong as you like, Carnaby," Lavendar answered. "You can't

-exaggerate my feelings on that subject!"

-

-"If you hadn't fifteen years' start of me I'd give you a run for your

-money!" exclaimed Carnaby with a daring look.

-

-

-

-

-XXIII

-

-DEATH AND LIFE

-

-

-While these incidents were taking place at the Manor House, village

-life at Wittisham had been stirring for hours. Thin blue threads of

-smoke were rising from the other cottages into the windless air: only

-from Nurse Prettyman's there was none. Duckie in the out-house quacked

-and gabbled as she had quacked and gabbled since the light began, yet

-no one came to let her out and feed her. The halfpenny jug of milk had

-been placed on the doorstep long ago, but Mrs. Prettyman had not yet

-opened the door to take it in.

-

-Outside in the garden, where the plum tree stood yesterday, there was

-now only a stump, hacked and denuded, and round about it a ruin of

-broken branches, leaves, and scattered blossoms. Over the wreck the

-bees were busy still, taking what they could of the honey that

-remained; and in the air was the strong odour of juicy green wood and

-torn bark.

-

-The children who brought the milk were the first to discover what had

-happened, and very soon the news spread amongst the other cottagers.

-Then came two neighbours to the scene, wondering and exclaiming. They

-went to the door, but Mrs. Prettyman did not answer their knock or

-their calling. Mrs. Darke looked in through the tiny window.

-

-"She be sleepin' that peaceful in 'er bed in there," she said, "it 'ud

-be a shame to wake 'er. She's deaf now, and belike she never 'eard the

-tree come down, 'ooever's done it. But I'll go and see after Duckie:

-she's makin' noise enough to rouse 'er, anyway."

-

-Then Duckie was released and fed and departed to gabble her wrongs to

-the other white ducks that were preening themselves amongst the deep

-green grass of the adjacent orchard.

-

-"You can 'ear that bird a mile away--she's never done talking!" said

-Mrs. Darke as the indignant gabble grew fainter in the distance. "But

-'ere's my old man a-come to look at the plum tree. Wonder what he'll

-say to it? This be a queer job, sure enough!"

-

-Old Darke, on two sticks, hobbled towards the scene of desolation with

-grunts of mingled satisfaction and dismay. 'Twas a rare sensation,

-though a pity, to be sure!

-

-Mrs. Darke stood by the well at the turn of the road, keeping a sharp

-eye on the cottage while she gossiped with the neighbour who was

-filling her pitcher. She did not want to miss the sight of Mrs.

-Prettyman's face when she opened her door and found out what had

-happened.

-

-"She be sleepin' too long; I'll go and waken her in a minute," said

-Mrs. Darke. "'Tis but right she should be told what's come to 'er

-tree, poor thing."

-

-Then a beggar woman selling bootlaces came along the shore of the

-river; she mounted the cottage steps and the gossips watched her

-trailing up the pathway in her loose old shoes, and knocking at the

-door. She waited for a few minutes: there was no answer, so she turned

-away resignedly and trailed off along the sun-lit lane, in-shore,

-leaving the garden gate swinging to and fro.

-

-"There's summat the matter!" Mrs. Darke had just whispered with

-evident enjoyment, when some one else was seen approaching the cottage

-from the direction of the pier. It was the young lady from the Manor,

-this time. She wore a white dress and a green scarf, and her face was

-tinted with colour. She looked like a young blossoming tree herself,

-all lacy white and pale green, a strange morning vision in a

-work-a-day world! Robinette ran quickly up the pathway and knocked at

-the door, but there was no answer to her knock. She called out in her

-clear voice:--

-

-"Good morning, Nurse! Good morning! Aren't you ready to let me in?

-It's quite late!" But there was no answer to her call. She was just

-trying to open the door, which seemed to be locked, when a gentleman

-came up from the boat and followed her to the cottage. That, the women

-who were watching her thought quite natural, for surely such a young

-lady would be followed by a lover wherever she went! Indeed, Mrs.

-Darke said so.

-

-"'Tis in that there kind," she observed philosophically, "like the

-cuckoo and the bird that follows; never sees one wi'out the other!"

-

-"'Tis quite that way, Mrs. Darke," agreed the neighbour, approvingly.

-

-Robinette turned a white face to Lavendar as he approached.

-

-"Nurse won't answer, and I can't get in!" she cried. "Something must

-have happened. I--I'm afraid to go in alone. The door is locked,

-too."

-

-"It's not locked," said Lavendar, and exerting a little strength, he

-pushed it open and gave a quick glance inside. "I'll go in first," he

-said gently. "Wait here."

-

-He came again to the threshold in a few minutes, a peculiar expression

-on his face which somehow seemed to tell Robinette what had happened.

-

-"Come in, Mrs. Robin," he said very gravely and gently. "You need not

-be afraid."

-

-Robinette instinctively held out her hand to him and they entered the

-little room together.

-

-She need not have feared for the old woman's distress over the ruined

-plum tree, for nothing would ever grieve Nurse Prettyman again. Just

-as she had lain down the night before, she lay upon her bed now,

-having passed away in her sleep. "And they that encounter Death in

-sleep," says the old writer, "go forth to meet him with desire." The

-aged face was turned slightly upwards and wore a look of contentment

-and repose that made life seem almost gaudy; a cheap thing to compare

-with this attainment....

-

-Robinette came out of the cottage a little later, leaving the

-neighbours who had gathered in the room to their familiar and not

-uncongenial duties. She went into the garden, where Mark Lavendar

-awaited her. He longed to try to comfort her; indeed, his whole heart

-ran out to her in a warmth and passion that astounded him; but her

-pale face, stained with weeping, warned him to keep silence yet a

-little while.

-

-"I just came for one branch of the blossom," Robinette said, "if it is

-not all withered. Yes, this is quite fresh still." She took a little

-spray he had found for her and stood holding it as she spoke. "Only

-yesterday it was all so lovely! Oh! Mr. Lavendar, I needn't cry for my

-old Nurse, I'm sure! How should I, after seeing her face? She had come

-to the end of her long life, and she was very tired, and now all that

-is forgotten, and she will never have a moment of vexation about her

-tree. I don't know why I should cry for her; but oh, how could

-Carnaby destroy that beautiful thing!"

-

-"It was a genuine though mistaken act of conscience! You must not be

-too hard on Carnaby!" pleaded Lavendar. "He would not touch the money

-that was to come from the sale of Mrs. Prettyman's cottage under the

-circumstances, so it seemed best to him that the sale should not take

-place, and he prevented it in the directest and simplest way that

-occurred to him. It's like some of the things that men have done to

-please God, Mrs. Robin," Mark added, smiling, "and thought they were

-doing it, too! But Carnaby only wanted to please you!"

-

-"To _please_ me!" exclaimed Robinette, looking round her at the ruin

-before them. "Oh dear!" she sighed, "how confusing the world is, at

-times! I am just going to take this snowy branch and lay it on Nurse's

-pillow. She so loved her tree! See; it's quite fresh and beautiful,

-and the dew still upon it, just like tears!"

-

-"That seemed just right," said Robinette softly as she came out into

-the sunshine again, a few minutes later. "I laid the blossoms in her

-kind old tired hands, the hands that have known so much work and so

-many pains. It is over, and after all, her new home is better than any

-I could have found for her!"

-

-The two walked slowly down the little garden on their way to the gate.

-As they passed, old Mr. Darke, who had hobbled around again to have

-another look at the fallen tree, addressed Lavendar solemnly.

-

-"Best tree in Wittisham 'e was, sir," touching the ruin of the

-branches as he spoke. "'Ooever could ha' thought o' sich a piece of

-wickedness as to cut 'im down? Murder, I calls it! 'Tis well as Mrs.

-Prettyman be gone to 'er rest wi'out knowledge of it; 'twould 'ave

-broken her old 'eart, for certain sure!"

-

-"It nearly breaks mine to see it now, Mr. Darke!" said Robinette in a

-trembling voice. But the old labourer bent down, moving his creaking

-joints with difficulty and steadying himself upon his sticks till he

-could touch the stump of the tree with his rough but skilful hands. He

-pushed away the long grass that grew about the roots and looked up at

-Robinette with a wise old smile.

-

-"'Tisn't dead and done for yet, Missy, never fear!" he said. "Give 'im

-time; give 'im time! 'E's cut above the graft--see! 'E'll grow and

-shoot and bear blossom and fruit same as ever 'e did, given time. See

-to the fine stock of 'im; firm as a rock in the good ground! And the

-roots, they be sound and fresh. 'E'll grow again, Missy; never you

-cry!"

-

-Robinette looked so beautiful as she lifted her luminous eyes and

-parted lips to old Darke, and then turned to him with a gesture of

-hope and joy, that again Lavendar could hardly keep from avowing his

-love; but the remembrance of the old nurse's still shape in the little

-cottage hushed the words that trembled on his lips.

-

-

-

-

-XXIV

-

-GRANDMOTHER AND GRANDSON

-

-

-The disagreeable duty of announcing Mrs. Prettyman's death to the lady

-of the Manor now lay before Lavendar and his companion, and the

-thought of it weighed upon their spirits as they crossed the river.

-Carnaby also must be told. How would he take it? Robinette, still

-under the shock of the plum tree's undoing, expected perhaps some

-further exhibition of youthful callousness, but Lavendar knew better.

-

-In their concern and sorrow, the young couple had forgotten all minor

-matters such as meals, and luncheon had long been over when they

-reached the house. They could see Mrs. de Tracy's figure in the

-drawing room as they passed the windows, occupying exactly her usual

-seat in her usual attitude. It was her hour for reading and

-disapproving of the daily paper.

-

-Robinette and Lavendar entered quietly, but nothing in the gravity of

-their faces struck Mrs. de Tracy as strange.

-

-"I have a disturbing piece of news to give you," Mark began, clearing

-his throat. "Mrs. Prettyman died last night in her cottage at

-Wittisham."

-

-The erect figure in the widow's weeds remained motionless. Perhaps the

-old hand that lowered the newspaper trembled somewhat, so that its

-diamonds quivered a little more than usual.

-

-"So Mrs. Prettyman is dead?" she said. Then, as the young people stood

-looking at her with an air of some expectancy, she added with a sour

-glance, "Do you expect me to be very much agitated by the news?"

-

-"The death was unexpected," began Lavendar lamely.

-

-"She was seventy-five; my age!" said Mrs. de Tracy with a wintry

-smile. "Is death at seventy-five so unexpected an event?"

-

-Lavendar said nothing; he had nothing to say, and Robinette for

-the same reason was silent. She was gazing at her aunt, almost

-unconsciously, with a wondering look. "At any rate," continued Mrs.

-de Tracy, addressing her niece, "your _protegee_ has been fortunate

-in two ways, Robinette. She will neither be turned out of her

-cottage nor see the destruction of her plum tree. By the way--"

-with a perfectly natural change of tone, dismissing at once both

-Mrs. Prettyman and Death--"the plum tree _is_ down, I suppose? You

-saw it?"

-

-"Very much down!" answered Lavendar. "And certainly we saw it! Carnaby

-does nothing by halves!"

-

-A slight change, a kind of shade of softening, passed over Mrs. de

-Tracy's stern features, as the shadow of a summer cloud may pass over

-a rocky hill. She turned suddenly to Robinette. "Can you tell me on

-your word of honour that you had nothing to do with Carnaby's action;

-that you did not put it into his head to cut the plum tree down!"

-

-"I?" exclaimed Robinette, scarlet with indignation. "_I?_ Why--do you

-want to know what I think of the action? I think it was perfectly

-brutal, and the boy who did it next door to a criminal! There!"

-

-Mrs. de Tracy seemed convinced by the energy of this disclaimer. "I

-have always considered yours a very candid character," she observed

-with condescension. "I believe you when you say that you did not

-influence Carnaby in the matter, though I strongly suspected you

-before."

-

-"Well, upon my word!" ejaculated Robinette when they had got out of

-the room, too completely baffled to be more original. "What does she

-mean? Has any one ever understood the workings of Aunt de Tracy's

-mind?"

-

-"Don't come to me for any more explanations! I've done my best for my

-client!" cried Lavendar. "I give up my brief! I always told you Mrs.

-de Tracy's character was entirely singular."

-

-"Let us hope so!" commented Robinette with energy. "I should be sorry

-for the world if it were plural!"

-

-                  *       *       *       *       *

-

-Carnaby was not in the house, and Lavendar proceeded to look for him

-out of doors. He knew the boy was often to be found in a high part of

-the grounds behind the garden, where he had some special resort of his

-own, and he went there first. The afternoon had clouded over, and a

-slight shower was falling, as Mark followed the wooded path leading up

-hill. A rock-garden bordered it, where ferns and flowers were growing,

-each one of which seemed to be contributing some special and delicate

-fragrance to the damp, warm air. The beech trees here had low and

-spreading branches which framed now and again exquisite glimpses of

-the river far below and the wooded hills beyond it.

-

-Lavendar had not gone far when he found Carnaby, Carnaby intensely

-perturbed, walking up and down by himself.

-

-"You don't need to tell me!" said the boy, with a quick and agitated

-gesture of the hand. "Bates told me. Old Mrs. Prettyman's dead!" His

-merry, square-set face was changed and looked actually haggard, and

-his eyes searched Lavendar's with an expression oddly different from

-their usual fearless and straightforward one. They seemed afraid. "Was

-it my grandmother's--was it our fault?" he asked. "I, I feel like a

-murderer. Upon my soul, I do!"

-

-"Don't encourage morbid ideas, my dear fellow!" said Lavendar in a

-matter-of-fact tone. "There's trouble enough in the world without

-foolish exaggeration. Mrs. Prettyman was 'grave-ripe,' as she often

-said to your cousin; a very feeble old woman, whose time had come. The

-doctor's certificate will tell you how rheumatism had affected her

-heart, and the neighbours would very soon set your mind at rest by

-describing the number of times poor old Lizzie had nearly died

-before."

-

-"Think of it, though!" said Carnaby with wondering eyes. "Think of her

-lying dead in the cottage while I hacked and hewed at the plum tree

-just outside! By Jove! it makes a fellow feel queer!" He shuddered.

-The picture he evoked was certainly a strange one enough: a strange

-picture in the moonlight of a night in spring; the doomed beauty of

-the blossoming tree, the blind, headstrong human energy working for

-its destruction, and Death over all, stealthy and strong!

-

-"What an ass I was!" said Carnaby, summing up the situation in the

-only language in which he could express himself. "Sweating and stewing

-and hacking away--thinking myself so awfully clever! And all the time

-things ... things were being arranged in quite a different manner!"

-

-"We are often made to feel our insignificance in ways like this,"

-said Lavendar. "We are very small atoms, Carnaby, in the path of the

-great forces that sweep us on."

-

-"I should rather think so!" assented the wondering boy. "And yet, can

-a fellow sit tight all the time and just wait till things happen?"

-

-"Ask me something else!" suggested Lavendar ironically.

-

-There was a short pause. "I'm awfully sorry old Mrs. Prettyman's

-dead," Carnaby said in a very subdued tone. "I meant to do a lot for

-her, to try and make up for my grandmother's being such a beast." He

-stopped short, and to Lavendar's astonishment, his face worked, and

-two tears squeezed themselves out of his eyes and rolled over his

-round cheeks as they might have done over a baby's. "It's the j-jam I

-was thinking of," he sniffed. "Once a pal of mine and I were playing

-the fool in old Mrs. Prettyman's garden, pretending to steal the

-plums, and giving her duck bits of bread steeped in beer to make it

-s-squiffy (a duck can be just as drunk as a chap). She didn't mind a

-bit. She was a regular old brick, and gave us a jolly good tea and a

-pot of jam to take away.... And now she's dead and--and...." Carnaby's

-feelings became too much for him again, and a handkerchief that had

-seen better and much cleaner days came into play. Lavendar flung an

-arm round the boy's shoulder.

-

-"This kind of regret comes to us all, Carnaby," he said. "I don't

-suppose there's a man with a heart in his breast who hasn't sometime

-had to say to himself, I might have done better: I might have been

-kinder: it's too late now! But it's never too late!" added Lavendar

-under his breath--"not where Love is!"

-

-The shower was over, and though the sun had not come out, a pleasant

-light lay upon the river as the friends walked down; upon the river

-beyond which old Lizzie Prettyman was sleeping so peacefully, the

-sleep of kings and beggars, and just and unjust, and rich and poor

-alike. Carnaby had dried his eyes but continued in a pensive mood.

-

-"Cousin Robin's still angry with me about the tree," he said,

-uncertainly.

-

-"She won't be angry long!" Lavendar assured him. "You and your Cousin

-Robin are going to be firm friends, friends for life."

-

-Carnaby seemed a good deal comforted. "Mind you don't tell her I

-blubbered!" he said in sudden alarm. "Swear!"

-

-"She wouldn't think a bit the worse of you for that!" said Lavendar.

-

-"Swear, though!" repeated Carnaby in deadly earnest.

-

-And Lavendar swore, of course.

-

-                  *       *       *       *       *

-

-But an influence very unlike Lavendar's and a spirit very different

-from Robinette's enfolded Carnaby de Tracy in his home and fought, as

-it were, for his soul. That night, after the last lamp had been put

-out by the careful Bates, and after Benson had bade a respectful

-good-night to her mistress, a light still burned in Mrs. de Tracy's

-room. Presently, carried in her hand, it flitted out along the silent

-passages, past rows of doors which were closed upon empty rooms or

-upon unconscious sleepers, till it came to Carnaby's door; to the

-Boys' Room, as that far-away and most unluxurious apartment had always

-been called. Mrs. de Tracy was making a pilgrimage to the shrine of

-one of her gods. She opened the door, and closing it gently behind

-her, she stood beside Carnaby's bed and looked at him, intently and

-haggardly.

-

-Mrs. de Tracy's was a singular character, as Mark Lavendar had said.

-The circumstances of her widowhood with its heavy responsibilities had

-perhaps hardly been fair to her. There had been little room for the

-kindlier and softer feelings, though it is to be feared that they

-would not have found much congenial soil in her heart. The personal

-selfishness in her had long been merged in the greater and harder

-selfishness of caste; she had become a mere machine for the keeping up

-of Stoke Revel.

-

-But to-night she was moved by the positively human sentiment which had

-been stirred in her by Carnaby's startling act of cutting the plum

-tree down. Ah! let fools believe if they could that she was angry with

-the boy! She had never felt anger less or pride more. While others

-talked and argued, shilly-shallied, made love, muddled and made

-mistakes, her grandson, the man of the race that always ruled, had cut

-the knot for himself, without hesitation and without compunction,

-without consulting anyone or asking anyone's leave. That was the way

-the de Tracys had always acted. And it seemed to Mrs. de Tracy a

-crowning coincidence, a fitting kind of poetical justice, that

-Carnaby's action should actually have prevented the sale of the land;

-that dreaded, detestable sale of the first land that the de Tracys

-had held upon the banks of the river.

-

-So, since Carnaby was to be a man of the right kind, his grandmother

-had come to look at him, not in love, as other women come to such

-bedsides, but in pride of heart. The boy, after his "white night" at

-Wittisham and the varied emotions of the succeeding day, lay on his

-side, in the deep, recuperative sleep of youth whence its energies are

-drawn and in which its vigors are renewed. His round cheek indented

-the pillow, his rumpled hair stirred in the breeze that blew in at the

-window, his arm and his open hand, relaxed, lay along the sheet.

-Another woman would have straightened the bed-clothes above him;

-another might have touched his hair or hand; another kissed his cheek.

-But not even because he was like her departed husband, like the man

-who five and fifty years before had courted a certain cold and proud,

-handsome and penniless Miss Augusta Gallup, would Mrs. de Tracy do

-these things. She had had her sensation, such as it was, her secret

-moment of emotion, and was satisfied. She left the room as she had

-come, the candle casting exaggerated shadows of herself upon the walls

-where Carnaby's bats and fishing rods and sporting prints hung.

-

-It is sad to be old as Mrs. de Tracy was old, but her age was of her

-own making, a shrinkage of the heart, a drying up of the wells of

-feeling that need not have been.

-

-"I should be better out of the way," her bitterness said within her,

-and alas! it was true. Her great, gaunt room seemed very lonely, very

-full of shadows when she returned to it. Rupert, who always slept at

-her bedside, awaited her. Disturbed at this unwonted hour, he stirred

-in his basket, wheezed and gurgled, turned round and round and could

-not get comfortable, whined, and looked up in his mistress's face. She

-stood watching him with a sort of grim pity, and, strangely enough,

-bestowed upon him the caress she had not found for her grandson.

-

-"Poor Rupert! You are getting too old, like your mistress! Your

-departure, like hers, will be a sorrow to no one!" Rupert seemed to

-wheeze an asthmatical consent, and presently he snuggled down in his

-basket and went to sleep.

-

-

-

-

-XXV

-

-THE BELLS OF STOKE REVEL

-

-

-On Sunday morning Robinette and Lavendar were both ready for church,

-by some strange coincidence, half an hour too soon. He was standing at

-the door as she came down into the hall. Mrs. de Tracy and Miss

-Smeardon were nowhere to be seen; even Carnaby was invisible, but the

-shrill, infuriated yelping of the Prince Charles from the drawing room

-indicated his whereabouts only too plainly.

-

-"We're much too early," said Robinette, glancing at the clock.

-

-"Shall we walk through the buttercup meadow, then--you and I?" asked

-Lavendar. His voice was low, and Robinette answered very softly. She

-wore a white dress that morning without a touch of colour.

-

-"I couldn't wear black to-day for Nurse," she said, in answer to his

-glance, "but I couldn't wear any colour, either."

-

-"You're as white as the plum tree was!" said Lavendar. "I remember

-thinking that it looked like a bride." Robinette made no reply. He

-ventured to look up at her as he spoke, and she was smiling although

-her lip quivered and her eyes were full of tears. Lavendar's heart

-beat uncomfortably fast as they walked through the meadow towards the

-stile which led into the churchyard.

-

-"It's too soon to go in yet," he said. "The bells haven't begun."

-

-"Let's stop here. It's cool in the shadow," said Robinette. She leaned

-on the wall and looked out at the shining reaches of the river. "The

-swelling of Jordan is over now," she said with a little smile and a

-sigh. "The tide has come up, and how quiet everything is!"

-

-The water mirrored the hills and the ships and the gracious sky above

-them. There was scarcely a sound in the air. At the point where they

-stood, the Manor House was hidden from view, and only the squat old

-tower of the church was visible, and the yew tree rising above the

-wall against the golden field. A bush of briar covered with white

-roses hung above them, just behind Robinette, and Lavendar looking at

-her in this English setting on an English Sunday morning, wondered to

-himself, as he had so often done before, if she could ever make this

-country her home.

-

-"Yet she has English blood as well as I," he thought. "Why, the very

-name on the old bells of the church there, records the memory of an

-ancestress of hers! We cannot be so far apart." Looking at her

-standing there, he rehearsed to himself all that he meant to say, oh,

-a great many things both true and eloquent, but at that moment every

-word forsook him. Yet this was probably the best opportunity he would

-have of telling her what was burning in his heart: telling her how she

-had beguiled him at first by her quick understanding and her

-frolicsome wit, because all that sort of thing was so new to him. She

-had come like a mountain spring to a thirsty man. He had been groping

-for inspiration and for help: now he seemed to find them all in her.

-She was so much more than charming, though it was her charm that first

-impressed him; so much more than pretty, though her face attracted him

-at first; so much more than magnetic, though she drew him to her at

-their first meeting with bonds as delicate as they were strong. These

-were tangible, vital, legitimate qualities--but were they all? Could

-lips part so, could eyes shine so, could voice tremble so, if there

-were not something underneath; a good heart, fidelity, warmth of

-nature?

-

-"For the first time," he thought, "I long to be worthy of a woman. But

-I would not tell her how I love her at this moment, unless I felt I

-need not be wholly unequal to her demands. I have never desired

-anything strongly enough to struggle for it, up to now; but she has

-set my springs in motion, and I can work for her until I die!"

-

-All this he thought, but never a word he said. Then the church clock

-struck and the clashing bells began. They shook the air, the earth,

-the ancient stones, the very nests upon the trees, and sent the rooks

-flying black as ink against the yellow buttercups in the meadow.

-

-"We must go, in a few minutes," said Robinette. "Oh, will you pull me

-some of those white roses up there?"

-

-Lavendar swung himself up and drawing down a bunch he pulled off two

-white buds.

-

-"Will you take them?" he asked, holding them out to her. Then suddenly

-he said, very low and very humbly, "Oh, take me too; take me,

-Robinette, though no man was ever so unworthy!"

-

-Robinette laid the roses on the wall beside her.

-

-"For my part," she said, turning to Lavendar with a little laugh that

-was half a sob; "for my part, I like giving better than taking!" She

-put both her hands in his and looked into his face. "Here is my

-life," she said simply. "I want to belong to you, to help you, to live

-by your side."

-

-"I oughtn't to take you at your word," he said, his voice choked with

-emotion. "You are far too good for me!"

-

-"Hush," Robinetta answered, putting a finger on his lip; "it isn't a

-question of how great you are or how wonderful: it's a question of

-what we can be to each other. I'd rather have you than the Duke of

-Wellington or Marcus Aurelius, and I believe you wouldn't change me

-for Helen of Troy!"

-

-"I have nothing to bring you, nothing," said Lavendar again, "nothing

-but my love and my whole heart."

-

-"If all the kingdoms of the earth were offered to me instead, I would

-still take you and what you give me," Robinette answered.

-

-Lavendar laid his cheek against her bright hair and sighed deeply. In

-that sigh there passed away all former things, and behold, all things

-became new. Two cuckoos answered each other from opposite banks of the

-river and two hearts sang songs of joy that met and mingled and

-floated upward.

-

-Again the bells broke out overhead, filling the air with music that

-had rung from them ever since just such another morning hundreds of

-years before, when they rang their first peal from the church tower,

-bearing the legend newly cut upon them: "Pray for the Soul of Anne de

-Tracy, 1538." And Anne de Tracy's memory was forgotten--so long

-forgotten--except for the bells that carried her name!

-

-Yet in these same meadows that she must have known, spring was come

-once more. The Devonshire plum trees had budded and blossomed and shed

-their petals year after year, and year after year, since the bells

-first swung in the air; and now Hope was born once again, and Youth,

-and Love, which is immortal!

-

-

-

-

-The Riverside Press

-

-CAMBRIDGE . MASSACHUSETTS

-

-U . S . A

-

-

-

-

-REBECCA of SUNNYBROOK FARM

-

-By KATE DOUGLAS WIGGIN

-

-"Of all the children of Mrs. Wiggin's brain, the most laughable and

-the most lovable is Rebecca."--_Life, N. Y._

-

-"Rebecca creeps right into one's affections and stays

-there."--_Philadelphia Item._

-

-"A character that is irresistible in her quaint, humorous

-originality."--_Cleveland Leader._

-

-"Rebecca is as refreshing as a draught of spring water."--_Los Angeles

-Times._

-

-"Rebecca has come to stay with one for all time, and delight one

-perpetually, like Marjorie Fleming."--_Literary World, Boston._

-

-HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY

-

-BOSTON AND NEW YORK

-

-

-

-

-THE SIEGE OF THE SEVEN SUITORS

-

-By MEREDITH NICHOLSON

-

-"It is not often that one comes upon so clean a farce, so delightful,

-good-humored satire."--_Chicago Evening Post._

-

-"He has woven wit and humor and clever satire into this airy fantasy

-of twentieth century life in a way that should add to his literary

-fame."--_Indianapolis Star._

-

-"For sheer cleverness of invention and sprightly wit this story has

-had no peer in recent years."--_New York Press._

-

-"Just the sort of book which will delight those seeking clean,

-wholesome entertainment."--_Boston Globe._

-

-"Meredith Nicholson's is a delightful book, witty, epigrammatic,

-flavorsome ... recalls Frank Stockton's bewitching foolery and

-perennial charm."--_Milwaukee Free Press._

-

-HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY

-

-BOSTON AND NEW YORK

-

-

-

-

-A MAN'S MAN

-

-By IAN HAY

-

-"An admirable romance of adventure. It tells of the life of one Hughie

-Marrable, who, from college days to the time when fate relented, had

-no luck with women. The story is cleverly written and full of

-sprightly axioms."--_Philadelphia Ledger._

-

-"It is a very joyous book, and the writer's powers of characterization

-are much out of the common."--_The Dial._

-

-"A good, clean, straightforward bit of fiction, with likable people in

-it, and enough action to keep up the suspense throughout."--_Minneapolis

-Journal._

-

-"The reader will search contemporary fiction far before he meets a novel

-which will give him the same frank pleasure and amusement."--_London

-Bookman._

-

-HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY

-

-BOSTON AND NEW YORK

-

-

-

-

-SCOTTIE AND HIS LADY

-

-By MARGARET MORSE

-

-"The story of a handsome, intelligent collie dog. It is entertainingly

-and sympathetically told, and sure of the absorbed interest of every

-young lover of animals."--_Chicago Daily News._

-

-"Instantly deserves a place with Richard Harding Davis's 'Bar

-Sinister,' Alfred Ollivant's 'Bob, Son of Battle,' and Jack London's

-'Call of the Wild.'"--_Boston Transcript._

-

-"A delightful love story is woven in with the joys and trials of

-Scottie, who finds perfect satisfaction in the happy culmination of

-the romance of his lady."--_Chicago Record-Herald._

-

-HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY

-

-BOSTON AND NEW YORK

-

-

-

-

-JOHN WINTERBOURNE'S FAMILY

-

-By ALICE BROWN

-

-"A delightful and unusual story. The manner in which the hero's male

-solitude is invaded and set right is amusing and eccentric enough to

-have been devised by the late Frank Stockton. It is a story that is

-well worth reading."--_New York Sun._

-

-"Is to be counted among the best novels of this entertaining writer

-... written with a skilful and delicate touch."--_Springfield

-Republican._

-

-"In its literary graces, in its portrayal of characters that are never

-commonplace though genuinely human, and in its development of a singular

-social situation, the book is one to give delight."--_Philadelphia

-Press._

-

-HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY

-

-BOSTON AND NEW YORK

-

-

-

-

-THE PROFESSIONAL AUNT

-

-By MARY C. E. WEMYSS

-

-"One of the most delightful stories that has ever crossed the

-water."--_Louisville Courier-Journal._

-

-"The legitimate successor of 'Helen's Babies.'"--_Clara Louise

-Burnham._

-

-"A classic in the literature of childhood."--_San Francisco

-Chronicle._

-

-"Mrs. Wemyss is a formidable rival to E. Nesbit, who hitherto has

-stood practically alone as a charmingly humorous interpreter of child

-life."--_Chicago Inter-Ocean._

-

-"A charming, witty, tender book."--_Kate Douglas Wiggin._

-

-"It is a sunny, warm-hearted humorous story, that leaves the reader

-with a sense of time well spent in its perusal."--_Brooklyn Eagle._

-

-HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY

-

-BOSTON AND NEW YORK

-

-

-

-

-

-End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Robinetta, by

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