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diff --git a/30436-h/30436-h.htm b/30436-h/30436-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..93d57c3 --- /dev/null +++ b/30436-h/30436-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,16059 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Hope Mills;, by Amanda M. Douglas. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + + p {margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + text-indent: 1.25em; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + img {border: 0;} + .tnote {border: dashed 1px; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em;} + ins {text-decoration:none; border-bottom: thin dotted gray;} + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + table2 {margin-left: 2em; margin-right: auto;} + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + .copyright {text-align: center; font-size: 70%;} + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%; text-align: justify;} + + .bbox {border: solid 2px; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold; font-size: 70%;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .unindent {margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + .right {text-align: right;} + .poem {margin-left: 30%; margin-right: 10%; text-align: left;} + .poem2 {margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 10%; text-align: left;} + .sig {margin-right: 10%; text-align: right;} + .u {text-decoration: underline;} + .hang1 {text-indent: -3em; margin-left: 3em;} + + </style> + </head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30436 ***</div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 372px;"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="372" height="600" alt="Cover" title="" /> +</div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h1>HOPE MILLS;</h1> + +<h3>OR,</h3> + +<h2>BETWEEN FRIEND AND SWEETHEART.</h2> + +<h3>BY</h3> + +<h2>AMANDA M. DOUGLAS,</h2> + +<div class='center'><span class="smcap">Author of "From Hand to Mouth," "Nelly Kinnard's Kingdom," +<br />"In Trust," &c., &c.</span><br /><br /><br /></div> + +<div class='poem'> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">"Abou spake more low,</span><br /> +But cheerly still; and said, 'I pray thee, then,<br /> +Write me as one that loves his fellow-men.'"<br /> +<div class='sig'> +<span class="smcap">Leigh Hunt.</span><br /><br /><br /><br /> +</div> +</div> + + + +<div class='center'> +<b>BOSTON:</b><br /> +LEE AND SHEPARD, PUBLISHERS.<br /> +NEW YORK:<br /> +CHARLES T. DILLINGHAM.<br /> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span></p> +<div class='bbox'><h2>THE DOUGLAS NOVELS.</h2> + + +<div class='center'><br />—————</div> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Douglas Novels"> +<tr><td align='left'>OSBORNE OF ARROCHAR.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>A MODERN ADAM AND EVE IN A GARDEN.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE FORTUNES OF THE FARADAYS.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>FOES OF HER HOUSEHOLD.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>A WOMAN'S INHERITANCE.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>CLAUDIA.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>FLOYD GRANDON'S HONOR.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>FROM HAND TO MOUTH.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>HOME NOOK.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>HOPE MILLS.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>IN TRUST.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>LOST IN A GREAT CITY.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>NELLIE KINNARD'S KINGDOM.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>OUT OF THE WRECK.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>SEVEN DAUGHTERS.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>STEPHEN DANE.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>SYDNIE ADRIANCE.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE OLD WOMAN WHO LIVED IN A SHOE.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>WHOM KATHIE MARRIED.</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<div class='center'><br />—————<br /> + + +PRICE PER VOL., $1.50.<br /> +—————<br /> + + + + +LEE AND SHEPARD, PUBLISHERS,<br /> +BOSTON.<br /> +</div> +</div> + + +<div class='copyright'><br /><br /> +<span class="smcap">Copyright</span>, 1879,<br /> +<span class="smcap">By</span> LEE AND SHEPARD.<br /> +—————<br /> +<i>All rights reserved.</i><br /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span></p> + +<div class='center'> +TO<br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap"><b><big>Hon. Marcus L. Ward,</big></b></span><br /> +<br /> +<b>As a Tribute</b><br /> +<br /> +TO ONE WHO HAS HELD LOYALLY TO GOD AND HIS FELLOW-MEN,<br /> +WHO HAS LABORED IN THE NOBLE CAUSE OF HUMANITY,<br /> +NOT DISHEARTENED WHEN RESULTS WERE INFREQUENT,<br /> +BUT CONTENT TO REAP THE REWARD<br /> +IN THE GREAT HEREAFTER.<br /> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span></p> +<h2>BETWEEN FRIEND AND SWEETHEART.</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER I.</h2> + + +<p>"<span class="smcap">There</span> is Fred again with his arm around Jack +Darcy's neck. I declare, they are worse than two romantic +schoolgirls. I am so thankful Fred goes away +to-morrow for a year! and I do hope by that time he +will have outgrown that wretched, commonplace youth. +Mother, it is very fortunate that Jack is the sole scion +of the Darcy line; for, if there were a daughter, you would +no doubt be called upon to receive her into the bosom +of the family."</p> + +<p>"Which I never should do," remarked quiet, aristocratic +Mrs. Lawrence, not even raising her eyes from +her book.</p> + +<p>"Not for the sake of your only son?" continued +Agatha, with an irritating laugh.</p> + +<p>"Don't be silly, Agatha," returned the mother, with +an indifference that took off the point of the query.</p> + +<p>Her second sister glanced up from a bit of pencil-drawing, +then lowered her eyes to the street where the +boy friends stood, one with his arm over the other's +shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Think of a Harvard graduate arm-in-arm with—well, +a mill-hand! No doubt Jack's father will put him +in the mill. I cannot see any sense in a boy of that +class taking two years at the academy."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span></p> + +<p>On the opposite side of the room were two girls, hardly +more than children, busily engaged in ornamenting a box +with transfer-pictures. One had a rather haughty mien, +as became a Lawrence; the other, pretty, piquant little +Sylvie Barry, looked toward the elders, knit her brow, +with both thought and indignation visible in its lines, and +held her picture absently in her hand.</p> + +<p>"Why do you listen to that?" asked Irene Lawrence +disdainfully. "It is only Jack Darcy, and he's nobody. +His father works in the mill."</p> + +<p>"I know that!" was Sylvie's rather sharp retort, +answering the latter part of the sentence merely. Child +as she was, she experienced a strong desire to do battle, +not only for Jack, but for some puzzling cause she could +not quite comprehend. With the blood of a French duke +in her veins, of soldiers and martyrs as well, she was a +sturdy little democrat. It seemed cowardly not to take +up arms.</p> + +<p>"That butterfly is to go next," remarked Irene, reaching +out for it; and Sylvie held her peace, though she felt +the warm blood burning in her cheeks.</p> + +<p>Jack Darcy did not need any champion within doors; +for Fred stood up bravely against these three girls, and +from them received his first impression that women were +small of soul and narrow of mind. As they stood by +the gate now, this last hour grudged to them, neither +dreamed that this was the final canto in the poem of boyhood. +They had been fast friends since the first day +pale, puny Fred made his appearance in school, and was +both laughed at and bullied by some boys larger in size, +but younger in years.</p> + +<p>"He will have to get the nonsense rubbed out of +him some time," thought Jack; "and it can never be +younger." But, when the contest degenerated into the +force of the strong against the weak, one blow of Jack's +fist sent Brown reeling and howling.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Try a fellow of your own size next time," was Jack's +pithy advice.</p> + +<p>Fred came to him, and cried hysterically in his arms. +Jack had experienced the same feeling for some poor +rescued kitten. Fred, with his head full of King Arthur +and his knights, mythology, and bits of children's histories, +wherein figured heroes and soldiers, elected Jack to the +highest niche in his regard.</p> + +<p>Jack Darcy was a wonderful boy withal, a very prince +of boys, who hated study and work, and loved play; who +despised Sunday clothes and girls' parties; but who had +not his equal for spinning a top, or raising a kite, and +when it came to leap-frog, or short stop, he was simply +immense. Then he always knew the best places to dig +worms, and the little nooks where fish were sure to bite, +the best chestnut and walnut trees; and, with years and +experience, he excelled in baseball, skating, wrestling, +leaping, and rowing. Jack Darcy was no dunce, either. +Only one subject extinguished him entirely, and that was +composition. Under its malign influence he sank to the +level of any other boy. And here Fred shone pre-eminently, +kindly casting his mantle over his friend,—further, +sometimes, than a conscientious charity would have +admitted; but a boy's conscience is quite as susceptible +of a bias as that of older and wiser people. On the other +hand, Jack wrestled manfully with many a tough problem +on which Fred would have been hopelessly stranded. +Once rouse the belligerent impulse in Jack, and he would +fight his way through.</p> + +<p>These two were at different ends of the social plane. +Fred's father was the great man of Yerbury, the present +owner of Hope Mills; not only rich, but living in luxury. +He had married Miss Agatha Hope, and by the death of +her two brothers she had become sole heir to the Hope +estate: though it was whispered that her brothers had +left a heavy legacy of debts behind them. There was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span> +family on the Lawrence side as well, but not much money. +David Lawrence had prospered beyond his wildest dreams. +He had twice been mayor of Yerbury, gone to the State +Legislature, and been spoken of as a possible senator; +but he did not sigh for political distinction.</p> + +<p>Agatha was their first-born; then Frederic De Woolfe, +named for some Hope ancestor. Two girls afterward; +but Fred remained the only son. He was a delicate boy, +and, until he reached the age of ten, studied with his +sisters' governess, when he rebelled, and insisted upon +his boy's prerogative of going to school. Here he met +and loved Jack Darcy.</p> + +<p>Jack was a few months the elder,—a stout, hardy, +robust boy, full of mischief, falling into scrapes, and slipping +out easily. Not vicious or ugly; in fact, he had +thrashed Ned Thomas for robbing birds' nests, been known +to rescue a miserable kitten from its tormentors, and was +always bringing home sore-eyed, mangy curs to be nursed +and healed. If he had cared, he could have boasted as +good a pedigree as the Hopes and the Lawrences. For +his grandmother was of pure old French Jacobin descent, +titled too. Many a wild romance and adventure had her +family figured in,—now on the top round of prosperity, +now in bitter poverty and exile. At the age of eighteen +she was living on the western coast of Ireland with her +old father, when she fell in love with handsome Jack +Darcy, whose persuasive blue eyes were enough to melt +the heart of the most obdurate woman; the merriest, +wittiest, best-tempered lad for miles around, the owner +of a small farm and numberless family traditions that +counted back to the time when</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"Malachi wore the collar of gold,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">He won from the proud invader."</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>For a while they were prosperous and happy: then +came bad seasons, famine, and finally typhus. Two<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span> +bright, handsome sons and a little daughter were victims, +leaving only baby Bernard. They came to the New +World, and began life again, managing thriftily, and buying +a house and garden in the quaint old town of Yerbury. +Mr. Darcy died; and his son grew to man's estate, settled +to the business of carpenter and builder (as he possessed +a good deal of mechanical skill), married a pretty, delicate +girl, but did not seem to make of life a signal success. +Still it is possible that a life of happiness and content +may have its use in this world, if it does not serve to +point a prosperous moral.</p> + +<p>He added a wing to the house, he raised fruit and +flowers that were marvels. Grandmother preferred for +several years to keep house by herself, raise chickens and +geese, and keep putting by a little of her very own. +They had a choice garden and a soft-eyed Alderney cow, +but Bernard Darcy had surely missed his vocation. He +should have been a scientific farmer.</p> + +<p>Baby Jack came to them. He certainly had not inherited +the beauty of the Darcys nor the Beaumanoirs, +not even the delicacy of his mother. The eyes of Irish +blue were tinged with gray, his hair inclined to the +warmer tints of chestnut, and now he always kept the +curls cropped short. However, his magnificently shaped +head was not disfigured by the process. He did get +terribly freckled and tanned as warm weather came on, +and the hair turned almost red by much bathing and +sunshine. A striking contrast indeed to the handsome, +well-dressed Frederic.</p> + +<p>When Fred went to the academy he pleaded for Jack +to go, and Grandmother Darcy decided that he should. +She had never taken kindly to her son's rather plebeian +occupation. After several years of indifferent success, +Mr. Darcy had accepted a position at the mill, in which, +if there was not so much profit, there were no losses.</p> + +<p>Jack was not a student in an intellectual point of view.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span> +He did not care to be a doctor, lawyer, or clergyman, +and certainly not a professor. He would have liked to +pack a satchel, and start westward, prospect for a railroad, +gold or silver mine, and live the rugged, unconventional +camp-life. Once he had ventured to suggest this +noble ambition; but his timid mother was startled out of +her wits, and his grandmother said with a sage shake +of the head,—</p> + +<p>"A rolling stone gathers no moss."</p> + +<p>"Grandmother," began Jack argumentatively, "of +what real value is the moss to the stone, except in the +picturesque aspect? Do you know that a great many of +these time revered and honored adages are the greatest +humbugs in the world?" asked the audacious young +iconoclast. "Who wants to be a stone or a clod, or +even a bit of velvet moss? They go to make up the +world, it is true; but is that narrow, torpid, insensate +life any pattern for human souls and active bodies? I +think a man's business in this world is to find out +new channels, to build up, to broaden and deepen, and +somehow to make the world feel that he has been in it. +I can't just explain,"—and his brows knit into a puzzled +frown,—"but it seems to me there is something +grander than plodding along and saving a little money."</p> + +<p>"No doubt you would be glad enough to have the +money, when you have gone off like the prodigal son, +and wasted health and substance in foreign lands," said +grandmother with some asperity.</p> + +<p>Jack had been brought up to reverence the Bible and +religion, and to respect his grandmother was the first +article in his creed. He relapsed into silence, but the +busy brain kept up a vigorous ferment. What was life +all about, anyhow? Why did people come into the world, +live thirty, sixty, or even eighty years, and then drop +out of it. Was it merely to eat, drink, and sleep?</p> + +<p>The wider lore at the academy had a peculiar effect<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span> +upon Jack, tangled his brain, begat confusing mental +processes. Greek he hated; Latin he barely endured; +chemistry and mineralogy interested him, and in mathematics +he excelled. Fred carried every thing before him, +graduated with honors, and was to enter Harvard. The +Lawrences went to Newport, and Jack missed his bosom +friend sorely. He rambled through the woods, read every +thing that came in his way, and thought a good deal in +his crude, undisciplined fashion.</p> + +<p>What was he to do with this tough problem of unknown +quantities?</p> + +<p>He ventured at last to broach the subject to his father.</p> + +<p>Bernard Darcy studied his son gravely. Now, it must +be considered that he had never been troubled with this +hungry, perplexing view of life that urges one on to dip +deep into the secrets of existence. To have a pretty +house and garden, to watch his flowers, vegetables, and +chickens grow, to dream over his books in his cosey sitting-room, +not to be pinched for money, not to be anxious +about employment, but to go on serenely day after day,—this +was Mr. Darcy's idea of happiness; and, having this, +he was perfectly content.</p> + +<p>His mother secretly chafed at his lack of ambition; his +neighbors said, "A good, honest fellow, but with no +'push' in him." Curiously enough, the virtues that are +preached from pulpits Sunday after Sunday, that we are +always recommending to our friends, are <i>not</i> the ones that +gain any vast amount of credit in this life. "Be content! +be content!" cries every one, from revelation downward; +yet content, pure and simple, is rather despised and flouted +by our fellow-men.</p> + +<p>"I don't know, Jack," said the elder, gravely shaking +his head with slow dubiousness. "What would you do if +you were once away?"</p> + +<p>"I'd go on until I found some place into which I just +fitted;" and the boy glanced over westward with hungering +eyes.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But, Jack," said his father, after a pause, "I think +people oftener fit themselves into a place. There are so +few places ready made to one's hand. It's always something. +Now, I'll venture to say that David Lawrence, +with all his money, doesn't see as much real happiness as +I do. His is a slave's life, after all. It's day and night, +bills to pay and stock to get, dissatisfied hands, poor +hands spoiling work, losses here and there, little leisure, +small peace of mind; and all for what? There was a time +when I might have envied him: I don't now."</p> + +<p>Jack had lost all but the first two sentences.</p> + +<p>"That's the thing!" he cried, with boyish enthusiasm,—"fitting +yourself; coming to something that takes hold +of you like an inspiration; that you could work for, fight +for, that rouses soul and body."</p> + +<p>Bernard Darcy studied the youthful face, eager, alert, +hopeful, and with something else in it that he could not +understand.</p> + +<p>"I never had any such dreams or desires," he said in +an uncertain tone, as if fearful he might lose his way +among his son's vagaries. "I wanted a pleasant home, +and a loving wife and children. I wish there had been +more of them, Jack, for your sake," and his voice took +on a tender inflection. "Then, if one wanted to go away, +there would have been others left. You see, Jack, +mother's heart is bound up in you, and she's getting to be +an old woman with but few ties. I might manage to +comfort your own mother; but you are so young, Jack. +There will be many years before you, doubtless; and if +you could give a few to us," with a wistful, loving look. +"Now, if you wanted to study"—</p> + +<p>"But I don't," in a hasty, husky tone. "I believe I +hate quiet. I want life, adventure! I've staid in school +this last year just to please Larry."</p> + +<p>"Have a little patience, Jack. Old people are not like +young ones. They feel the changes keenly. And you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span> +are all we have. It would take the sunshine out of our +lives. It would seem as if there had been a funeral."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Jack with meek hopelessness that one +would hardly look for in a vigorous boy; and winking +hard to keep back some tears. No logical argument, no +stricture of duty, could have half the weight of this bit of +love pleading. Father was right. God had made him a +son first of all, given him a son's duties. Jack had never +troubled his head much about religion in any theological +sense; but his simple creed had some great if old-fashioned +truths in it.</p> + +<p>"If there's any thing you would like to do, I'd be glad +to give you a chance. And there's no need to hurry. +You may come to the right thing presently."</p> + +<p>Jack swallowed over a great lump in his throat. The +two kittens came scampering up the walk, and he caught +one, lifting it to his shoulder. Then Sylvie Barry entered +the gate with her dainty milk-kettle shining like silver.</p> + +<p>They were in a manner neighbors, for Larch Avenue +was the next street to Maple Place. Both streets were +now given over to what is termed decayed gentility. The +larches were old and ragged and brown with clustering +cones, and the blue blood of the denizens had grown a +little sluggish.</p> + +<p>Miss Honoria Barry and her small niece lived together, +with a tall and gaunt handmaiden Norman French, and a +broad Yorkshire gardener. Miss Barry was the old cream +of Yerbury. Here her family had lived since the Huguenot +persecution, and dwindled finally to two. Louis +Barry was a dissipated spendthrift. He married, and +tormented his wife into an early grave, and might have +worn out his sister, but Providence kindly removed him. +Miss Honoria retrenched, paid off debts and mortgage +by degrees, and brought up Sylvie in a quaint, refined, +old-world fashion.</p> + +<p>Old Mrs. Darcy and Miss Barry exchanged formal calls,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span> +and discussed la belle France. Sylvie took great delight +in listening to grandmother's stories of brave heroes and +handsome women who figured in old legends.</p> + +<p>Oddly enough, one of the many points of agreement +between Jack and Fred had been their aversion to girls +in general. Fred judged them from his sisters, who were +always nagging, always exhorting him to be a gentleman, +and always holding up Jack Darcy to ridicule. Jack, on +the other hand, had a bashful fear of girls, and fancied +they were laughing at every little awkwardness; then they +cried so easily, went off in a huff if they could not have +their own way, were silly, vain, and tattling, ready enough +to beg your assistance if there was a munching cow by the +roadside, a worm swinging from a tree, or a harmless +mouse running across the floor. The great fascination to +the Darcy house was, that the boys could sit in the large, +clean kitchen, trying all sorts of crude experiments, with +Ann to clear away the <i>débris</i> and find no fault. Jack +never wanted to go to the great house. In true boy fashion +he understood without any explanation. But they +both liked little Sylvie. She was taught at home except +in music and drawing, and she was as much interested in +grandmother's heroes as the two boys.</p> + +<p>On the other hand, the Hopes and the Barrys had always +been great friends; and, from some odd freak of unlikeness, +Sylvie and Irene Lawrence carried on the intimacy.</p> + +<p>She stopped now, and talked about the kitten with Jack; +and he carried her milk-pail home to the gate.</p> + +<p>It was a long, wearisome vacation to poor Jack. Fishing +lost its charm, even tramps in the woods became +monotonous. He spent hours in his father's shop, inspecting +machinery, though he seldom asked a question +or ventured upon a remark. Indeed, some of the hands +thought "Darcy's boy wasn't over-bright." Yet here he +laid the foundation of the problem that was to vex and +puzzle his soul in after-years. Here was the great, whirring<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> +machinery, belts, bands, spindles, looms, and oftentimes +a stupid and stolid enough workman at one end, +grinding out luxury and elegance for David Lawrence, +Esq.; that his family might tread on Wilton and Axminster, +dine from silver and crystal, dress in silks and velvets, +drive about with high-stepping bays, and scorn all +beneath them. Once as Jack was thinking it over he +laughed aloud.</p> + +<p>"You must feel very much amused," said a rather +sour-looking man standing near by, with a peculiar touchiness +as if he had been laughed at.</p> + +<p>"No, I wasn't amused, I was only thinking"— But +Jack stopped in the middle of his sentence. Could <i>this</i> +man take any such position as that of Mr. Lawrence?</p> + +<p>Then he came across a volume of self-made men, which +he eagerly devoured. Every one seemed to have commenced +life without a dollar, and almost without friends. +Were those the important factors in the race, to be light-weighted? +And he had a triple chain.</p> + +<p>Fred returned, handsomer than ever, and doubly glad +to get back to Jack. There was just four days grace. +They revisited old haunts, talked endlessly and to little +purpose, like so much of the talk of youth, and now they +were parting at the gate for the last time. Unlike girls +they exchanged no vows or kisses. It is not in boy-nature +to be effusive.</p> + +<p>"To think that I shall not be home until Christmas! +If only you <i>were</i> going with me, Jack, what jolly times +we would have!"</p> + +<p>"I could have gone," answered Jack with some pride, +"that is, if I had been prepared. Father was willing, +and grandmother would have been proud enough;" and +just then Jack wondered why going to seek his fortune +appeared so much more terrible to them.</p> + +<p>"Well, why not, Jack?" with impetuous eagerness. +"It isn't too late."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I don't want the years of study. I should come to +hate the sight of a book. No, I'll find out where I +belong, some day. Don't worry about me," with an +abrupt laugh.</p> + +<p>"But I am so sorry!" Then they looked into each +other's eyes. All these years had been filled with such +good, honest boy-love.</p> + +<p>"Good-by, old chap!" cried Jack suddenly; for the +wrench must come, and lingering over it was painful. "I +shall miss you lots! it seems so queer to be without you! +Of course you'll succeed: there's no use wishing about +that."</p> + +<p>"It's a good wish from you, Jack. Good-by. I hate +awfully to say it: I hate to think that our jolly boyish +frolics are over."</p> + +<p>"But we'll have many a good row on the river, and +tramps through the woods. We can't outgrow every thing. +And there'll be summers and summers."</p> + +<p>"Good-by."</p> + +<p>The gate-latch clicked: Jack walked rapidly down the +street, whistling "Kathleen Mavourneen" unconsciously. +Did he dream the simple faith of boyhood had reached its +culmination, and was henceforth to wane?</p> + +<p>"Dear old Jack," thought Fred: "I don't know as +he is quite Launcelot, though I used to think so at first. +But there was Sir Gawain and Sir Bedevere and a host +of worthies, and if he only <i>would</i> he could come up to the +highest. What makes him so obstinate and unambitious, +I wonder? Are there any King Arthurs and loyal knights +nowadays, or only common men and women?"</p> + +<p>His sisters opened upon him with the fatal persistency +of narrow feminine natures.</p> + +<p>"You may say what you like about Jack Darcy," he +flung out angrily, "but you'll never make me give him +up,—never, never!"</p> + +<p>"Do hush, children," interposed Mrs. Lawrence.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span> +"Fred, I hope you will learn to modulate your voice, +and not shriek so."</p> + +<p>Sylvie put on her hat to go home. As she passed Fred +she said just above her breath,—</p> + +<p>"You are right and brave. I wouldn't give up my +friend because he was poor; and Jack is so nice!"</p> + +<p>"Much she knows about it," thought Fred, with a true +boyish disdain. Yet her approval of Jack was a virtue in +his eyes.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER II.</h2> + + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Father!</span>" exclaimed Jack a few days after this +parting from his bosom friend, "I think I will go in the +mill for a year or two, if there is any thing for me to do. +Meanwhile my inspiration may come along."</p> + +<p>"But what would you like best, Jack?"</p> + +<p>"That's just the trouble," and the youthful brows knit +in perplexity. "All things seem alike to me: I haven't +any choice."</p> + +<p>Mr. Darcy drew a long breath that was almost a sigh. +If Jack only would evince some preference!</p> + +<p>However, a place was found as under-bookkeeper. It +was desperately tiresome to Jack to sit perched on a high +stool all day; and after three months of it he begged to +be put at something else.</p> + +<p>At this period we had gone through our costly civil war; +and, instead of being exhausted as friends and enemies +predicted, the machinery of business appeared to have +been set in motion with a new and overwhelming impetus. +Every thing was wanted; everybody had work or money; +and the most useless commodity found a purchaser: as +if our anguish had crazed us, and we went into a delirium +of mental opium, and dreamed wild, exhilarating dreams +which we mistook for reality.</p> + +<p>Yerbury had been a slow, solid, conservative town. +Property was low, taxes light and easily paid, a balance +on hand in the treasury to commence the new year, and +very little pauperism in the town. Yerbury officials +utilized their inefficient population, and their county jail<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span> +was not made a palace of luxury. The old-fashioned +element in the place held crime as the result of sin instead +of occult disease,—a thing to be punished, rather than +petted. It had good railroad connections, plenty of +water, with one navigable stream, and a variety of industries. +Iron, shoes, hats, paper, and clothing were manufactured +to a considerable extent, to say nothing of many +smaller branches. Hope Mills was the largest, the focus +of the town, and had the prestige of being handed down +through three generations, though never as extensive as +now.</p> + +<p>Toward the west there was a succession of pretty hills +that lay in the broad sunshine, making you think somehow +of Spanish slopes, covered with vineyards, olives, +and luxuriant verdure. Over beyond, a wide, diversified +country range, farms, woodland, hills and valleys, with +a branch of the river winding through, called, rather unromantically, +Little Creek.</p> + +<p>On these slopes, the new part, dwelt the aristocracy. +Streets wound around in picturesque fashion to make easy +grades, and many old forest-trees were preserved by that +means, giving the place an air of years, rather than yesterday +and improvement. There were two pretty parks,—one +devoted to Fourth-of-July orations from time immemorial; +there were churches of every denomination; a +boarding and day school for young ladies, the academy, +some excellent district schools; a hall with library and +reading-room; a bank; rows of attractive shops and +stores; and, coming down in the scale of refinement, +beer-saloons and concert-halls, kept generally up to a +certain point of morality. There were so many laboring-men, +and they must have something by way of entertainment.</p> + +<p>It struck Jack with a curious wonder. These stolid +faces and plodding steps were part of the human machines +out of which wealth was being ground. They went to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> +the beer-shops at night in their dirty clothes, smelling +of grease and dye, drank beer, played a few games, and +harangued each other, and went home maudlin or stupefied. +Perhaps it was more comfortable than the slatternly +wives and crying children. Did it need to be so? If you +gave the workingman a helping hand, did he turn straightway +into an unreasoning demagogue?</p> + +<p><i>He</i> was not likely to be tempted by such doings. His +home had always been too clean and pleasant. He still +kept up with the boys, and joined the lyceum club; but +the intimate companionship of his life was gone.</p> + +<p>Fred did not come home for Christmas. College-life +was delightful,—would be just perfect if dear old Jack +were there. The glowing letters kept alive his own +secret dissatisfaction. But how explain it to one who +would be sure to say, "Get out of it all, Jack: no one +has any right to keep you in such a distasteful round, and +thwart your life-plans." To be sure, he had no life-plans.</p> + +<p>One raw, cold March day, Mr. Darcy went out to repair +a roof that had leaked in the previous storm. He rarely +minded wind or weather.</p> + +<p>"I declare," he said that evening, dropping into his +capacious armchair, "I feel as if I should never get +warmed through. I do believe we shall have a tremendous +snowstorm to take this chill out of the air. Jack, +read the paper aloud, won't you?"</p> + +<p>Jack complied. Local items, bits of State news, and +the general progress of the country; the starvation of +a nation at the antipodes, the discovery of a wonderful +silver-mine, plans for new railroads,—how busy the +world was! It stirred Jack's youthful blood.</p> + +<p>"I'd like to be a railroad-president," said Jack suddenly.</p> + +<p>His father stared, then laughed at the absurdity. +"Why, you're only a boy, Jack," he replied.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I know it. But the boy who means to be a railroad-president +must begin somewhere. Or if I could own a +silver-mine," he went on, with the boundless audacity of +youth.</p> + +<p>"Could you find use for the silver?" asked his father +humorously.</p> + +<p>Jack flushed, and lapsed into dreams. Grandmother +opposite was nodding in her chair, her knitting still in +her fingers. Jack left his vision for a moment, to calculate +if the old chest upstairs was not nearly full of stockings. +His mother sat sewing some trifle, and just raised +her eyes with that longing, beseeching glance mothers +so often give to their sons.</p> + +<p>"If women only did not care so much for one," thought +Jack, "or if there had been a great family of us. And +still I can't see the wonderful difference between going to +college, and going to seek your fortune. Does two or three +hundred miles more matter when you are once away?"</p> + +<p>The snow came on through the night. There being +nothing urgent on hand, Mr. Darcy remained within; but +Jack buffeted the storm gallantly. It would be worse +than this out in the new countries where he meant to go +some time.</p> + +<p>The next day Mr. Darcy was out. There was a dull +pain in his breast, going through to his back, and he +coughed a little. It went on thus for forty-eight hours, +when the pain became intense, and fever set in. Dr. +Kendrick was summoned; and, though the case was +severe, it had no alarming symptoms at first. Jack went +to and fro with his merry whistle; speculative he might +be, but he was not introspective or morbid: wife and +mother watched at home.</p> + +<p>There came one of those sudden and inexplicable turns +in the disease. Jack was stunned, incredulous. In his +mother's eyes lay a look of helpless terror he was never to +forget.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You'll care for them always, Jack; you'll never leave +them," said his father imploringly, in one lucid interval.</p> + +<p>"Always," answered the young voice bravely.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, my son, my dear boy;" and there was a +fervent clasp of the hand.</p> + +<p>A few days later Bernard Darcy lay coffined in the +pretty parlor, while wife and mother were crushed with +grief.</p> + +<p>"Dust to dust, ashes to ashes;" and Jack dropped the +first handful of earth in his father's open grave. The two +women clung to him,—he was their all. Here lay his +duty as long as God pleased.</p> + +<p>It seemed for weeks after this as if Mrs. Darcy would +follow her husband. She looked so white and wan, she +was so feeble that some days she could not leave her bed. +Grandmother rallied with that invincible determination +not to be beaten down if her prop was wrenched away.</p> + +<p>Jack was now a few months past eighteen, stout, and +growing tall rapidly. There was about him a sturdy persistence +and the good common sense that lends an adaptiveness +or pliability of disposition, so to speak, that is +often mistaken for content. Since he must stay here for +some years to come, he would devote himself to learning +the business of manufacturing woollen cloth. It entertained +him more than keeping books. For the sake of +these two bereaved women, he would take an actual interest +in the work he had to do.</p> + +<p>Looking back in after-years, he was glad he made the +resolve, and stood by it manfully. It gave ballast to his +character, shaped him to a definite purpose. A narrow +life, to be sure; nay, more, a distasteful one: but he did +his best, and waited, and that was all that could be asked +of him.</p> + +<p>Early in June there was a great commotion at the mansion +on Hope Terrace. Miss Agatha Lawrence was married +to Hamilton Minor, one of the great firm of brokers<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span> +in Wall Street, 'Morgan, Minor, & Co.' For weeks it +had been the talk of the town. The trousseau came from +Paris, and was marvellous. The presents were on exhibition, +and created a vast amount of envy and admiration,—silver, +jewels, pictures, crystal, china, and laces. And +last of all a sumptuous wedding,—every delicacy in season +and out of season, costly wines, pyramids of cake, +and a lavish profusion of flowers. Nothing so grand had +ever occurred in Yerbury.</p> + +<p>Fred and a stylish Miss Minor were to stand. He +reached home just in time; and, as he was to be off again +with the bridal party, he sent a note of regret to Jack.</p> + +<p>Jack had too much good sense to feel hurt, though he +was disappointed. A few weeks later he took his mother +and grandmother up to the mountains for change of air, +and enjoyed the vacation hugely himself. So it happened +he did not see Fred at all.</p> + +<p>The second year letters languished, indeed failed, I +may as well admit. Jack was being rapidly inducted +into the wisdom of the world, Fred into the wisdom of +society. They would never meet on the old plane again. +The mill-hand would be no companion for the son and heir +of David Lawrence, Esq.</p> + +<p>It was not in Jack Darcy's nature to be bitter or cynical. +He just accepted the fact. Somewhere he and Fred +had outgrown each other, and the boyish interests, once +such a bond of union. Fred would be an educated and +cultivated gentleman.</p> + +<p>Why should he be left in the background? His ambition +was suddenly roused again, and he more than half +wished himself in college. He went back to his books; +he joined a debating-society. There was no need of being +a mere clod because he had to work. David Lawrence +was a gentleman. And the next spring he took up +a little botany and horticulture with his gardening. Old +Mr. Rising down the street, who had been gardener to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span> +some great lord,—a peculiar, obstinate Englishman, with +his head crammed full of odd bits of knowledge,—took a +fancy to Jack. They discussed not only fruit and flowers, +but trade in its various aspects, as Mr. Rising had relatives +at Manchester who had soared to the ambitions of +mills and factories.</p> + +<p>Time sped on, and they came to the second summer. +Miss Gertrude Lawrence was a belle now, and the great +house was constantly filled with guests. The Lawrence +equipages were seen in every direction. Mrs. Minor +was up frequently, in grand state. The lawn was gay +with croquet-parties, the evenings were brilliant with +lights and music: they had two elegant garden-parties, +when the grounds were illuminated with colored lanterns, +and the teas were festivals in themselves. Fred had +brought home two college chums, and for the first fortnight +was deeply engrossed. Then, too, the girls no longer +nagged at him. He was developing into an elegant +young man, with due regard for the proprieties.</p> + +<p>He did go to call on Jack one evening. It was a duty, +a rather awkward and embarrassing one, and he took to +himself great credit in the point of moral courage. He +understood thoroughly now what Agatha had striven so +sedulously to explain, the difference in social station. He +was not likely in the future to make a blunder on that +side, but it would not do to turn the cold shoulder to Jack +all at once. "A boy's will's the wind's will," he repeated +with much complacency, and it was but natural that it +should veer in other directions. Jack was a good enough +fellow, but no Sir Galahad or Sir any one now.</p> + +<p>He was a little shocked at Mrs. Darcy in her mourning +dress and widow's cap. She was pale, and with the extreme +delicacy so often pronounced characteristic of +American women. Grandmother sat in state and dignity, +rather resentful of what she termed in her secret heart +Fred's neglect, but a thing she would not have confessed +openly if she had been put to torture. And Jack?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span></p> + +<p>Frederic De Woolfe Lawrence studied him with a critical +eye. A great, lumbering, inelegant fellow! Jack +seemed to have grown out in every direction, without +being finished up in any. He was taken somewhat at a +disadvantage, too: somehow he fancied, if he had met +Fred alone in a stray walk, there would have been less +formality.</p> + +<p>They talked about college. Fred was doing well, for +he was by nature a student. Society's arts and airs would +never entirely uproot that love. He meant to distinguish +himself, and have one of the prize essays. Jack was +rather grave and quiet, hard to get on with, Fred thought; +and he was relieved when the duty was ended, and he +could go with a good grace.</p> + +<p>Jack lingered on the porch, clinching his fingers, and +listening to the jaunty retreating footstep. There was +something different in Fred's walk even, a buoyancy as +if he could override any little difficulties that fate might +have in store for him. Jack smiled grimly. Fortune had +showered every good gift upon him. He would go proudly, +successfully, through life. He would be praised and +honored—and for what?</p> + +<p>For a moment Jack felt like wrestling with him, shoulder +to shoulder, to distance him, to defeat him, to lower +his complacent pride. His half-patronizing manner had +stung keenly. Then the real nobility of his nature +cropped out, and he laughed at his own sudden heat and +passion.</p> + +<p>"It would be folly," he said softly to himself. "I +could not distinguish myself in any line he will be likely +to follow. He must work his way: I must work mine. +He knows what he means to do; and there he has gone +ahead of me, for I really do not know my own mind. +No, there's no further basis for a friendship: the boy-love +has had its day, and died. After all, isn't that the +history of every thing?" and Jack looked up to the stars, +still with a little wordless pain at his heart.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span></p> + +<p>He heard during the next week that Fred had gone +West with one of his friends, who was nephew to a great +railway magnate. It would be only a flying trip, to be +sure, but here Jack was tempted to envy him. That +boundless West, the land of his own dreams!</p> + +<p>Grandmother grew a trifle less energetic, still it could +not be said that her health began to fail. Mrs. Darcy +remained about the same. Every day Jack realized how +much he was to the two women. To leave them would be +absolute cruelty.</p> + +<p>At Christmas of this year Miss Gertrude Lawrence was +married. The wedding was rather quieter, from the fact +that it was winter, and the bride was to leave for Europe +the next day. Irene was shooting up into a tall girl, and +being educated at a fashionable and expensive boarding-school. +Nothing happened to impair her friendship with +Sylvie Barry, though the two girls were as dissimilar in +many respects as Jack and Fred, but they both stood on +the same social plane.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile matters at Yerbury prospered mightily. +The town was quite bright at night with the glow from +factory-windows, and people seemed always hurrying to +and fro. New shops and stores were started, new streets +were laid out, rows of houses built in town, and out on +the edge pretty and ugly suburban villas. Property began +to increase everywhere.</p> + +<p>Gertrude and her husband George Eastman came back +to Yerbury in about five months. He had begun his +career as clerk in a bank, and joined his brother afterward +as an army-contractor. From thence they had +branched into general speculating, and were both considered +rich men. Mr. Minor owned a Fifth-avenue +palace, and Mrs. Minor never came to Yerbury without +her maid. Mrs. Eastman could not have the palace in +town, so she decided to have a handsome summer residence +at Yerbury, and spend her winters at different<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span> +hotels. Mr. Eastman thought he saw a grand opening +just in this pretty spot. Property was ridiculously low. +Here were farms and farms that might as well be cut up +into building-lots, and turned into cities. Here was the +river-front, here were railroads: why not have twice or +thrice as many shops? why not call in the people from +far and wide, and make Yerbury a place of note? Time +had been when our fathers were content to dream and +doze, but now it behooved everybody to be up and +stirring. In the new race the laggards would fall far +behind.</p> + +<p>Mr. Eastman set the example by purchasing one large +tract, and laying out streets. Then uprose houses as if +by magic. Modern improvements, water, gas, bath, butler's +pantries, and dumb-waiters; and the houses offered +so cheaply that the solid, slow-going, honest business-men +wondered how it could be done. The places had a wonderfully +seductive look, and were sought after eagerly.</p> + +<p>There was a peculiar interest in all this to Jack. When +one day somebody said,—</p> + +<p>"Downer's property south of the bridge has gone for +thirty thousand dollars. Five years ago he'd been glad +to have taken ten for it. Crater and Harmon are going +to build a big factory,"—Jack's heart went up with a +bound.</p> + +<p>He still wanted to get away from Yerbury. He began +to feel that he had made a mistake with his life, and was +anxious to rectify it if possible. He did not see how he +could do it here. He had gone into the groove, and it +was hard getting out. But if some one came along, and +offered them a fortune!</p> + +<p>The chance drew near. A new street was prospected +through Miss Barry's grounds, through the Lanier place +farther back, and the southern end would touch the +Darcy place, giving it some new fronts and available +lots, and placing the house on the corner. There would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> +be sufficient ground for the width of the street. A petition +was forthwith circulated.</p> + +<p>Alas that there could be people so blind to their own +interests and the general welfare of the community! +Miss Barry stoutly resisted. She even inspired some of +her neighbors to that extent of opposition that they +would not sell at any price. Destroy the beauty of +Larch Avenue, that had been "Lovers' Walk" in the old +days, and held so many tender reminiscences!</p> + +<p>"When I am gone I don't care what is done with the +place," said Miss Barry. "It will have but little sentiment +for the next generation. A change to me now +would be like tearing up an old tree by the roots. I +could not endure it. They may have their elegant new +houses; but give me my large airy rooms and my old-time +flowers, my nectarines and apricots. Let me live +my few years in peace and quiet."</p> + +<p>"There is certainly enough to improve," returned +Grandmother Darcy. "There are miles and miles that +people are glad to sell. Let them take that. Let them +build up the vacant lots. And where are all the people +coming from to fill them?"</p> + +<p>"The factories and mills will bring in the people," +said Jack sturdily.</p> + +<p>"There is plenty of room elsewhere," returned Miss +Barry with some asperity. "There certainly is no need +of turning people out of homes they like, and have made +comfortable."</p> + +<p>"I suppose you cannot look at it in a business light," +said Jack. "Women rarely do"—</p> + +<p>"There have been just such whirlwinds before, Mr. +Darcy," said the shrewd little old lady. "I have lived +through two of them myself. And it seems to me it is +an epidemic of running in debt, rather than prosperity. +If everything were paid for; but you see here are improvement-bonds, +and our town runs in debt: here is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> +everybody raising money on mortgages. How is it to be +paid? Do wages and salaries double? History proves +that it is a bad thing for a state when its rich men grow +richer, and its poor poorer."</p> + +<p>"I am sure they need not," said Jack valiantly. +"There is a higher scale of wages paid than ever before."</p> + +<p>"And no account made of thrift or economy. Enticements +at every corner; women flaunting silks and laces +as everyday gear, with no sacredness; old-fashioned +neatness despised, industry ridiculed; men lounging in +beer-shops; girls flirting on the public streets, having no +duties beyond a day's work in a mill. What will the +homes and the wives of the next generation be like?"</p> + +<p>"But that was all so irrelevant," said Jack after she +had gone. "Women mix up everything. Now, here: +you are offered a big price for this property. You two +could live at ease all the rest of your life, and I"—</p> + +<p>"You would go away," said his mother sorrowfully.</p> + +<p>"Well, perhaps not," trying to make the tone indifferent.</p> + +<p>"Jack," began his grandmother, sitting very erect, +and glancing straight before her into vacancy, "I am an +old woman now; and, like Miss Barry, I could not take +a change comfortably. No other place will ever be home +to your mother or me. There is some money,—enough, +I think, to take care of us both. So, if you cannot be +content, if you must have the restless roving of youth out +before your blood can cool, go and try the world. It is +pretty much alike all over,—some one going up while +another goes down; chances here, and chances there. +As for the few years left me"— And there was a slight +tremble in her voice.</p> + +<p>"Don't fret. I'm not going away," said Jack crossly, +huskily, too much hurt to study his tone. "If I can't +always see things as you do"—</p> + +<p>There were tears in his mother's eyes. Jack rose suddenly,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span> +thrust his hands in his pockets, and walked out +into the twilight. There was nothing to be done with +so obstinate a problem as his life. He would learn the +business thoroughly, getting on as fast as possible, and +some time make a strike out for himself, become a manufacturer +in turn. The thing was settled now. Maybe +some one would want him for mayor or congressman. +There was a time when David Lawrence, Esq., had +been a comparatively poor man; and though Jack felt +that he would hardly turn his hand over to have a million +of dollars put in it for the mere money's worth, if he could +not discover a silver-mine, or build a railroad over the +Rocky Mountains, he might become a rich man. Wealth +was a mighty lever, after all. He shut his lips grimly, +and pushed his hat down over his eyes. In the early +summer dusk, fragrant with rose and violet, he went over +the old battle-ground. Did some enemy sow it continually +with dragon's teeth? To stay here eight or ten +years, mayhap, to make all the money he could. Not +one year of her life did he mean to grudge grandmother.</p> + +<p>It was quite late when he came in, but his mother was +watching for him. She put her arms softly about his +neck, and kissed him.</p> + +<p>"Have a little patience, dear," she said, in tender, +motherly tones; but he knew her sympathy was with him.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I mean to. I don't care as much as I did an +hour ago. I'm going to set myself steadily to business. +You'll hear no more moans or groans out of me, mother."</p> + +<p>"Jack—you know I would go to the end of the world +with you."</p> + +<p>"I believe you would—yes, I do. There, good-night!" +for she was crying.</p> + +<p>"This is the way we rule circumstances," said Jack +dryly, sitting down in his own room, and taking up +Carlyle. "What an amount of humbug is talked in this +world,—yes, and written too!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER III.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">There</span> was an influx of new blood in Yerbury, and it +brought in fresh ideas. A new railroad touched it at one +edge, and real-estate dealers left off fighting about Larch +Avenue. The ancient stages were laid aside for the more +modern horse-cars: there was bustle and rivalry on every +hand. George Eastman began to be quoted, and his advice +asked generally. Mrs. Eastman held her head loftily. +Then there came on the arena of action a certain Horace +Eastman, cousin to George, who had been abroad as +agent for a large firm, and who slipped into the place of +general manager of Hope Mills.</p> + +<p>Plainly, F. De Woolfe Lawrence was not preparing to +follow in his father's steps. He had graduated with +honors, and taken a prize essay, and was now a fully-fledged +modern young man. He was fond of discoursing +on abstruse subjects, he dabbled a little into art, wrote +some mystical poems, tied a cravat beyond criticism, and +wore faultless gloves and boots. His mother and Mrs. +Eastman were extremely proud of him. His father +wondered a little what the young man's future would +be.</p> + +<p>"I have not decided upon a profession," he said, with +a just perceptible but extremely stylish drawl. "The +next thing is going abroad. I want at least two years of +travel, and I should not wonder if I settled myself at +some German or Parisian university. We, as a nation, +are so sadly deficient in culture. Our country is crude, +as I suppose all young countries must be."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span></p> + +<p>David Lawrence nodded slowly, and asked,—</p> + +<p>"When did you think of going?"</p> + +<p>"I may as well go at once, and have it over," returned +the young man, with the princely indifference he affected.</p> + +<p>His father did not dissent. As well in Europe as here, +or anywhere.</p> + +<p>As for Jack, he was quite as much out of his reach as +if the ocean already rolled between. They used to pass +each other quietly, nodding if they came face to face, but +often evading any kind of recognition. Was the old +regard dead?</p> + +<p>Fred smiled rather pityingly on the boy who had been +so blinded in his first love.</p> + +<p>"I used to think him such a hero, because he once +thrashed a boy in my behalf," mused the young man. +"And how I used to fly at the girls, who were always +looking at the feet of clay my idol possessed! How I +<i>did</i> coax him to go to college!" and Fred gave a little +rippling laugh. "I must admit that he has good common +sense,—he has found his place, and keeps it. There +could be nothing between us now, of course. My lines +lie in such different ways."</p> + +<p>No moan for a lost ideal under all that self-complacency.</p> + +<p>Jack Darcy took the defection in good part. He did +see the utter incongruity of keeping up even the semblance +of the old dream. But, where Fred had made +dozens of new friends, Jack had admitted no one to his +vacant shrine. He liked, even now, to recall those old +hours, so bright and gay with childish whims and frolics. +And he did envy Fred, just a little, that ramble over +Europe. Would it be a ramble? It was Jack's turn to +smile. Would it not be bits and pictures seen through +coach-windows, rather than getting close to Nature's +heart? No, that would not suit <i>him</i>.</p> + +<p>And so glided by two more years. De Woolfe Lawrence—he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span> +had dropped the initial now—returned home in a +still higher state of cultivation, and quite as undecided as +to his future career. A life of leisure and <i>belles-lettres</i> +looked the most tempting to him. He had read up a little +in medicine, but the practice would not please his fastidious +inclinations. Law had its objections. In fact, Mr. +Lawrence had dropped into that dilettante state into which +extreme cultivation, without genius or ambition, is apt to +drift its possessor. He was nearing twenty-four now,—handsome, +aristocratic, the pride of his family, and the +distraction of young women in general. Invitations were +showered upon him, and the delicate flattery society loves +to use, ministered to his vanity.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile what of Jack?</p> + +<p>He had improved considerably through these years. +The rough angularity of twenty had softened. Tall, but +robust and compact, no stooping shoulders or slouching +gait. The chestnut hair was no longer faded, but still +cropped close; and the eyes were so deep that they seemed +to have a blue-black tint, large, slow-moving, with that unutterable +wistfulness which makes one sad. The face was +good, strong, and earnest; and, if his manners were not +those of a gentleman of leisure, they bore the impress of +something quite as noble, honor, tenderness, and sincerity. +The old restlessness had dropped out. Love, being larger +than duty, hinted now at no sacrifice. Grandmother +Darcy, now grown quite feeble, leaned on this strong arm, +always outstretched, forgetting there had ever been any +wild dreams of youth.</p> + +<p>And, though Yerbury had changed so much, they and +the old street remained unchanged. Mrs. Darcy was a +little thinner and older, the light hair just touched with +silver. The garden was the same: wherever his father's +favorite flowers had died out, Jack had replaced them. +Only the honeysuckle was like great twisted ropes, and +the syringas and lilacs were trees instead of bushes.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span></p> + +<p>Old neighbors had gone, and new ones come, but they +were of the quiet, steady kind. Miss Barry seemed +smaller and frailer, but she was as active as ever in her +refined way. Sylvie no longer came to the gate for milk: +indeed, the wide-eyed Alderney had long been given up, +and Sylvie was a young woman. Irene Lawrence had +been sent to a fashionable boarding-school; but Sylvie +had been educated at home, under her aunt's eye, by a +French governess who had proved something more than a +mere teacher. The coming of Madame Trépier served to +cement more closely the intimacy with the Darcy family. +Indeed, Jack took a queer, half-shy liking for madame, +and began to study French. He had a great fondness for +music, and a fine, rich tenor-voice: so he and Sylvie sang +duets together, and often walked in the twilight with +madame. Indeed, Miss Barry would have kept her for +friend and companion all the rest of her life; but there +came a very persistent wooer, and madame succumbed +a second time to the destiny of women.</p> + +<p>Sylvie Barry was piquant rather than pretty: a soft +peachy skin neither dark nor fair, with a creamy tint; +deep lustrous hazel eyes, that seemed to change with her +moods; hair that had barely shaken off the golden tint, +and clustered in rings about the low broad forehead; a +passable nose of no particular design, but a really beautiful +mouth and chin, the latter dimpled, the former with a +short curved upper lip, displaying the pearly teeth at the +faintest smile; barely medium height, with a figure that +was slim yet not thin, rounded, graceful, pliant, with some +of the swift dazzling motions of a bird.</p> + +<p>While Jack and Fred had drifted so apart, Sylvie and +Irene still kept up a curious friendship. On Sylvie's part +there was no election: indeed, Irene in her imperious fashion +took Sylvie up as the mood seized her. Mrs. Lawrence, +now quite an invalid, was fond of Sylvie's bright +face and gay inspiriting voice. In Irene's absence she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span> +was often sending for her. "Play me a little song before +you go," she would say; or, "Read a chapter in my book +for me, will you not? You always make people seem so +real." Consequently Sylvie had never left off going to +the great house. Mrs. Eastman would fain have patronized +her, but in her spirited way she shook off the faintest +attempt. But Irene flew to her, and insisted upon a croquet-party +or a drive, or a musical soirée.</p> + +<p>"I can't do without you, you obstinate little thing," +she would exclaim. "I don't know why I take so much +trouble about you; for I don't believe you like me at all, +but just tolerate me for the sake of old times. There are +twenty girls in Yerbury who would go wild with delight if +I were to ask them."</p> + +<p>"Why do you not, then?" inquired Sylvie with a tantalizing +light in her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Because I don't choose to, Miss Impertinence! Don't +be cross now, and torment me to death with your perverse +ways."</p> + +<p>"You surely need not be tormented."</p> + +<p>"Sylvie, you are exasperating."</p> + +<p>"Why do you ask me, then, or tease me to do any of +these things? I would rather stay at home to-day, and +paint."</p> + +<p>"But I shall not give you up. I'll stay here, and talk +so that your wits will wander!"</p> + +<p>And so at last Sylvie would consent to her friend's +demands.</p> + +<p>One evening she came over to discuss a costume for +a fancy-dress garden-party. Mrs. Eastman had brought +some fashion-plates up from New York, but they did not +altogether suit her fancy: so the carriage was ordered, +and in a few moments it rolled to Sylvie's door.</p> + +<p>Sylvie and Jack were at the piano. There was a soft, +drizzling, summer-night rain, that made all the air fragrant +without any noisy patter. It was just the evening for an<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span> +old Latin hymn; and Sylvie was playing the strong, rich +chords that had in them mysterious hints of heavenly joy, +coming up through waves of passionate suffering. Jack's +voice seemed toned to these sympathetic vibrations, and +the grand old words rolled out simply, with none of the +vicious taste of the more modern fashionable school. So +engrossed were they, that they did not hear the carriage +stop; but Sylvie caught her aunt's voice.</p> + +<p>They had reached the end of a verse. "Let me see +what auntie wants," said Sylvie, running into the next +room; and then it was, "Oh, Irene! oh, Sylvie!"</p> + +<p>"Singing to yourself in the twilight!" laughed Irene. +"How romantic! I'm going to interrupt you now, and +put you in better business. I am just loaded down with +the excellent fripperies of this world, and unable to make +a choice. And the grand occasion is Mrs. Avery Langton's +garden-party. Now, be good-natured, and help me +decide."</p> + +<p>Uttering this in a rapid breath, she had walked through +the sitting-room to the parlor, and tumbled her parcel +down on the great antique sofa, whose edges everywhere +were studded with brass nails. And there stood Jack, +thinking, if he had been quicker, he could have stepped +out of the window into Miss Sylvie's pretty flower-bed, now +purple with odorous heliotrope. But, as he had not, there +was nothing to do but to stand his ground manfully.</p> + +<p>He had often seen Irene Lawrence in the carriage and +on horseback; but as she stepped into the room now, and +stood there rather surprised, she might have been a daughter +of Juno. Tall, slender, arrowy straight, but lithe and +faultlessly rounded, her fleecy white shawl like a gossamer +web falling off her shoulders, her haughty carriage, her +wealth of purple-black hair coiled about her shapely head, +a hundred times handsomer than any artifice of dressing, +her brilliant complexion, her large eyes with their long +sweeping lashes that veiled their depth, but seemed to add<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> +a certain imperiousness, her coral-red lips that shaped +differently with every breath, her straight nose, with the +nostrils thin as a bit of shell, and the softly rounded chin, +made her a picture that Jack Darcy never forgot.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" in a tone of surprise, "I thought you were +alone: pardon me."</p> + +<p>Sylvie was bringing in another lamp, and placed it on +the great clawfoot centre-table. Then it occurred to her +that Irene might not know Jack. She should recognize +him here socially, anyhow.</p> + +<p>"My friend Miss Lawrence," she said with a world of +dignity, "Mr. Darcy."</p> + +<p>Jack bowed, in no wise abashed by this proud and +handsome Miss Lawrence, though as a child she had +snubbed him many a time. And she glanced him over +with a sudden interest. It was a manly face and a manly +figure; and she wondered from what remote corner of the +earth Sylvie Barry had summoned this fair, stout giant, +who made her think of the Norse gods of her childish +romances. She always liked strength: Sylvie was for +tenderness, pathos, and beauty.</p> + +<p>"Good-evening," inclining her proud head. "Did I +interrupt? You were singing?"</p> + +<p>"That is finished," returned Sylvie, with her peculiar +manner, as if, being hostess here, she should have proper +respect paid to her position; and each guest should be as +deferent to the other as if she were a little queen, and this +her court.</p> + +<p>She picked up a stray piece of music that had fallen to +the floor, seated Irene, and half turned to Jack. Any +other woman might have been awkward.</p> + +<p>"I will leave you two ladies to yourselves," began +Jack; but Irene interrupted,—</p> + +<p>"No, Mr. Darcy: I shall think I have driven you +away;" with a beguiling smile. "If you understand +music, you may have a taste in the fine arts of dress as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span> +well. At all events, look over these elegant women in +their party-gowns, and tell me which is fairest and rarest."</p> + +<p>The honesty of the glance, although it was coquettish, +told Jack that Miss Irene did not remember him. For, +of all the haughty Lawrence women, she had the name of +being the haughtiest. She gathered up her skirts in other +people's houses when the plebeian element came too near. +Now she waved him to a chair, and gently sank into +another, her trailing robe of thin filmy black with golden +flecks falling about her like clouds in a gusty sky.</p> + +<p>He took the seat indicated. Some strange feeling +moved him, an enchantment that he had never before +experienced. The very air about her was filled with a +subtle, indescribable perfume that he should always associate +with a tall, dark-eyed woman,—a glimpse of the +Orient and its sweetness, he fancied.</p> + +<p>Sylvie took her place, and began to tumble over the +colored plates.</p> + +<p>"I'm so tired of those Watteau things!" began Miss +Lawrence disdainfully. "They all savor of bread-and-butter +girls,—a shepherdess with her crook,—bah! And +I've been Marie Stuart so many times. If it were a masquerade; +but garden-parties are beginning to prove bores, +after all. There is nothing new about them, only to out-shine +every other woman. A high ambition, is it not, +Mr. Darcy?"</p> + +<p>"A temptation perhaps."</p> + +<p>The tone had in it a bit of delicate homage. Irene +understood. She knew at once that this man was a little +dazed by her beauty, just as many other men had been. +Puny, delicate, namby-pamby men she despised, and +always gave them a cut with her sharp tongue. Where +had Sylvie picked up this Saul among his peers?</p> + +<p>They were all interested in the pictures, and soon fell to +making merry comments on them. Sylvie had a quick +eye and a bright wit, and something made Jack Darcy<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span> +brilliant. They selected bits of fine taste here, they made +an elegant costume of no particular style, and Irene was +struck with what she knew would be its becomingness.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Darcy, are you an artist?" She remembered +just then what an odd way the Barrys had of picking up +people with some gift or grace.</p> + +<p>"No," and Jack flushed boyishly.</p> + +<p>"Then you must have a houseful of sisters."</p> + +<p>"No, I never had a sister."</p> + +<p>"When all things else fail with you, you can set up +opposition to Worth. I shall come to you for designs. +Now, this will be a peculiar source of gratification to me, +because no one can possibly have the same combination. +And you never can depend upon a modiste. Mr. Darcy, +what makes women so faithless to one another?"</p> + +<p>"Are they?" he asked with a man's simplicity.</p> + +<p>She laughed gayly, and met Jack's fun-loving, shady +blue eyes. How handsome they were!</p> + +<p>Miss Barry entered the room, and joined in the pleasant +chat: then a rumble of carriage-wheels was heard.</p> + +<p>"It has stopped raining," said Sylvie, going to the +window. "A few soft, melancholy stars have come out."</p> + +<p>"You have been very obliging, Sylvie," said Miss Lawrence. +"Miss Barry, I shall send the carriage over to-morrow. +Good-night."</p> + +<p>Jack Darcy handed her out, pushing aside a trailing +rose that it might not catch her shawl. Then she half +turned, and said "Good-night" in a softer tone.</p> + +<p>Sylvie was standing on the porch. "It has been as +good as a play, Jack," she said with her gay-humored +laugh. "I don't believe she ever thought"—</p> + +<p>"That I worked in her father's mill!" and Jack +laughed; but it was a rather pained, jarring sound.</p> + +<p>"Jack—why do you? You are a puzzle to me!" and +Sylvie's voice sharpened unconsciously. "You do not +like it. Why did you not go on at the academy, or"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span>—</p> + +<p>"Raise myself in the social scale? That's what you +mean, Sylvie; although we pass just as pleasant hours as +if I were a prince, and you the lady of high degree. +Well, we have gone over the ground a good many times, +and it is always the same thing. I have no fancy for a +profession; I have no genius for art, though Miss Lawrence +suggests that I might become a man-milliner—is +that what you call it? You know, I am staying here +because mother and grandmother will not go anywhere +else. And I dare say I make as much money as young +Dr. Romer or Ned Remington. And somehow, now that +I'm in it, I go on with a stubborn, plucky feeling. Some +day I'll be a great manufacturer."</p> + +<p>This time his laugh was cheerful and ringing.</p> + +<p>"You see, Sylvie, your good-nature places you on the +debatable ground. You and your aunt could be hand-in-glove +with all these great people, and yet you open your +generous heart to take in everybody."</p> + +<p>"No, not everybody, Jack. And what a little coward +I am just this minute! No, it is not that either. Jack, +you <i>do</i> know that I should never be a bit ashamed of you +before any one. I feel vexed when I think that you could +take the high places, and yet you let people put you +down,—people not half as worthy or half as good as you. +There's Horace Eastman. He came here a comparatively +poor man; and now he owns half Yerbury, and talks of +the mill-hands as if they were—well, a flock of sheep."</p> + +<p>"An apt comparison, Sylvie. To my mind, they are +shorn pretty close to make broadcloth for their masters."</p> + +<p>"And there is Fred—have you seen him since his +return?"</p> + +<p>"Not to speak to him, of course." And then Jack +flushed deeply, with a little hurt feeling.</p> + +<p>"And what friends you were! Is it the way of the +world? Then it is a mean, hateful world!"</p> + +<p>"Sylvie, you are talking wildly. Don't you see there<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> +is no point of union in our lives? Now, I do not feel +so badly over an outgrown friendship. When I was a +little boy, I remember having a wonderful fancy for Tom +Deane. We traded jack-knives; we told each other of +the best nut-trees; we hunted squirrels; we coasted together; +and, I dare say, he was as much of a hero in my +childish eyes as I used to be in Fred's. But think of +any friendship between us now! There isn't a greater +loafer in all Yerbury than Tom Deane. Why, we have +not a feeling in common."</p> + +<p>"Still I think it is rather different," and a shade of +annoyance passed over her face. If Jack only would not +call up these people below him, if he would not identify +himself so strongly with that common brotherhood! He +had so many nice tastes, such a clean, pure, honest soul. +And, young as Sylvie was, she knew this was not always +the result of culture or wealth or ambition.</p> + +<p>Jack guessed what was passing in her mind. From his +father he had inherited a kind of womanish intuition. A +pleasant-tempered man Bernard Darcy had always been +called, but it was that delicate tact, the intuitive knowledge +of what would be pleasant to others.</p> + +<p>"What else can I do here, Sylvie?" Jack cried with +sudden heat. "If the chance ever comes, I shall be +fitted for a good business man. You may think there is +no worthy ambition in that, but wait. Do not judge me +too hastily."</p> + +<p>"I am impatient at times, I know; but it is because I +see your capabilities, and I can't bear to think of your +going through the world unappreciated."</p> + +<p>"Do not worry about that. Good-night!" rather abruptly. +"Miss Barry, I have forgotten myself. Pleasant +dreams!"</p> + +<p>"And we did not have our old hymn, after all," said +Sylvie regretfully.</p> + +<p>Jack took the short cut across the garden. There was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span> +a dim light in the sitting-room; and his mother lay in the +hammock on the latticed porch, her favorite evening +resort. She came in now, and Jack bolted the doors. +Then, with a good-night kiss, he went to his room, and +in ten minutes was asleep. Sylvie, on the other hand, +girl-like, tossed and tumbled. Why was the world so +queer and awry and obstinate? After all, you could do +so little with it. Your plans came to nought so easily. +Lizzie Wise, in her Sunday-school class, preferred going +in the mill, and buying herself cheap finery, because the +other girls did it. And so all through. You tried to +train some one, and he or she followed the <i>ignis fatuus</i> +more readily than any high, ennobling truth. It was hard +lifting people out of their old grooves.</p> + +<p>How bright and entertaining Jack had been this evening! +Of course Irene had not remembered him. Would +she be vexed, Sylvie wondered,—she who held herself up +so high, and believed in a separate world as it were?</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER IV.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> garden-party was a success, and Miss Lawrence +the acknowledged belle of the evening. No one else +could have carried off the peculiar style of dress. She +knew that she was radiant; and triumphs were a necessary +sweet incense, that she always kept alive on her +shrine. There was no need of making a hurried election: +indeed, her chief aim now was pleasure and conquest.</p> + +<p>They were sitting over their dainty lunch, Mrs. Eastman +having dropped in; and, after the party had been +pretty thoroughly discussed, a little lull ensued. Fred +toyed with some luscious cherries, in his usual indolent +manner. Nothing in this world was worth a hurry or a +worry, according to this young man's creed. He had +dawdled through the party, waltzing with a languid grace +that most girls considered the essence of high-breeding. +It was all one to him. His "set" affected to think life +something of a bore. Intense emotion of any kind was +vulgar.</p> + +<p>"By the by, Rene," said Mrs. Eastman, "do you +suppose Sylvie Barry is engaged to that Darcy fellow? +It was odd that she should go off on a picnic with him, +instead of the party. She has the queerest, mixed-up +tastes."</p> + +<p>"What Darcy fellow?" asked Irene in surprise.</p> + +<p>"Sylvie Barry! Jack Darcy!" exclaimed Fred, in +as much amazement as his superfine breeding would +allow.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Eastman gave a mellifluous laugh.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Don't you remember? but you were such a child! +Fred does. The Damon to his Pythias."</p> + +<p>"Oh!"</p> + +<p>A vivid scarlet ran up to the edge of Irene's white +brow. So that was Jack Darcy. What a blind fool she +had been, <i>not</i> to think! She had laughed and chatted with +him, smiled on him, worn the costume of his designing,—a +common workingman! For a moment she could have +torn her hair, or beaten her slender white hands against +the table. What had possessed her?</p> + +<p>"I do recall some green and salad days," rejoined Fred +with a laugh.</p> + +<p>"How Agatha and I used to badger you! We were +little fools to think such a thing ever went on when one +came to years of discretion. Only I believe we were +afraid the elder and idiotic Darcy might foist his son on +some college. I must say Yerbury has become quite endurable +now that party lines have been set up;" and +Mrs. Eastman crumbed her cake, watching her diamond +sparkle.</p> + +<p>"How do you know Sylvie went on a picnic?" asked +Rene, with an angry glitter in her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Didn't the dear confess? Rene, you do not keep +your penitent in very good order."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Eastman had a faculty of putting something extremely +irritating in her voice. It was honey smooth, and +yet it rasped.</p> + +<p>"Really," answered Irene indifferently, "I do not see +that Miss Barry's selection of friends need affect me much, +so long as she keeps the distasteful ones out of my way. +I may wonder at her choice of pleasures, but I suppose +she suits herself."</p> + +<p>"My nursery-girl belongs to the mission-school. It +was very good of Lissette to let her off for a whole day, +I thought. I left her to settle it. What Sylvie sees in +such people, I cannot imagine. I own I was a trifle surprised<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span> +when I found this remarkable Mr. Darcy was our +old <i>bête noir</i>, Jack. Is he still in the mill, I wonder?"</p> + +<p>"Apply to papa," laughed Irene.</p> + +<p>"I don't believe papa could tell you the names of five +workmen. As if he troubled his head about that!"</p> + +<p>"Sylvie is a nice little thing," remarked Fred patronizingly.</p> + +<p>"I have no patience with her!" declared Mrs. Eastman. +"As if it was not necessary to have a line drawn +somewhere! These people are all well enough in their +way: they are a necessary factor,"—picking the words +slowly to give them weight,—"and society establishes +schools and homes for them, trains teachers, provides +employment: what more do they want? A holiday now +and then, of course; but why not go off by themselves as +a class, as the French do? This maudlin, morbid sympathy +we Americans give, spoils them. There is no keeping +a servant in her place here. Before you know it she +studies and graduates at some school, teaches for a while, +goes abroad, and paints a picture, likely as not."</p> + +<p>"Do not excite yourself, Gerty," and Fred pulled the +ends of his silky moustache.</p> + +<p>"Well, it does annoy me to see a young girl like Sylvie +Barry with no better sense. Some day we shall have all +these people rising up against us, as they did in the French +Revolution. I hate socialism and all that; and I took +good care to say to Mrs. Langton that Miss Barry had +been casting in her lot that day with a parcel of charity-children, +and would no doubt be too tired to enjoy the +exquisite pleasure of her fête."</p> + +<p>"I do not think Sylvie cares a penny!" said Irene +with a touch of scorn, anxious to return her sister's little +stab. "I suppose she comforts herself with the remembrance +of her old blue blood, while Mr. Langton made +his fortune as an army-contractor."</p> + +<p>"The Wylies were a very good family, Irene."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span></p> + +<p>"If you are through eating, I will have a cigar," said +the young man, sauntering over to the bay-window.</p> + +<p>What was there in this simple announcement of Sylvie +having gone on a charity-school picnic with Jack Darcy +that should so rouse the art-cultured pulses of Fred Lawrence? +He had always liked Sylvie: her freshness and +piquancy stirred him like a whiff of mountain air,—a +sure sign that all healthy tone had not been cultivated out +of him. It would be very foolish for Sylvie to commit a +<i>mésalliance</i> with this young man, who was no doubt good +enough in his way,—a rather rough, awkward, clownish +fellow, with a coarsely generous heart. Sylvie so delicate +and refined, with her pretty ways, her genius,—yes, she +really did have a genius! In Paris or Rome she might +make herself quite a name. He must see a little more of +her: he must—well, did he want to marry any one?</p> + +<p>Irene and Gertrude retired to the room of the former, +and discussed Newport and Saratoga.</p> + +<p>"I do hope we shall have a cottage at Newport another +summer," said Mrs. Eastman.</p> + +<p>"It gives you tone, of course," was Irene's response; +"but honest, now, Gerty, don't you think it a little poky? +I do not want to go anywhere for a whole summer: I like +the fun of all. Agatha is to spend a month at Long +Branch, and I am going down just for a little dazzle and +to give my gowns an airing."</p> + +<p>Their siesta was passed in this kind of small talk. Late +in the afternoon she drove Mrs. Eastman home, and then +went for Sylvie in her pretty pony-phaeton. As Sylvie +was about nothing more important than a pale-blue zephyr +"fascinator," she accepted the invitation.</p> + +<p>What a delicious drive it was! A dappled under-roof +of cloud with the sun just behind it, a golden-gray haze +filming the air, and fragrant breezes suggestive of roses +and honeysuckle. All the way was starred with daisies. +Sylvie drew in long breaths of delight, for she never +wearied of nature.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span></p> + +<p>They turned homeward early. The bells were ringing +for six, and the mills and factories began to empty out +their swarm of human beings.</p> + +<p>"Why do you go through here?" asked Sylvie in surprise. +"I thought you hated all this."</p> + +<p>"So I do," briefly.</p> + +<p>She let the pony walk now. These shrill sounds jarred +on the summer air. Groups of girls in procession in faded +gear or tawdry finery; brawny men with an old-country, +heavy cast of feature, in blue flannel, with arms bared to +the elbow, and throats exposed; pale stripling youths of +the American type, boys with the rough fun not yet +knocked out of them by hard work or the harder blows of +fate,—a motley crowd indeed.</p> + +<p>It thinned a little just here. Two or three men came +along leisurely,—one tall and compact, with a slow, firm +step, the face grave, the eyes glancing over beyond the +hills. Irene Lawrence shut her lips with a touch of displeasure. +Was she to miss the satisfaction that had been +brooding in her mind for the last hour, for the accomplishment +of which she had driven through this dusty, ill-smelling +street?</p> + +<p>The pedestrian raised his head. A sudden warm, smiling +glow overspread the face, no longer grave, but brightening +like an April sky. The outlook of the eyes was so +frank and clear; the half-smile playing about the parted +lips had the honesty of a child. He touched his hat, and +bowed with an almost stately deference.</p> + +<p>Sylvie nodded and smiled, leaning forward a bit. What +sent the glad light so quickly out of his countenance? +The girl glanced at Irene.</p> + +<p>Miss Lawrence had stared coolly, haughtily, decisively. +This man might look at her hundreds of times in the days +to come, but he would never again expect a social recognition +from her. And, oh, perfection of cruelty! Sylvie, +his fellow-sinner in these social laws, had witnessed his +pain and discomfiture.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span></p> + +<p>She turned with her face at white heat, one of those +inward flashes of indignation that transcend any scarlet +blaze of anger. Her eyes glowed with a fiery ray, and +the curves of mouth and chin seemed as if frozen.</p> + +<p>"It was a deliberate insult, Irene! How dared you"—</p> + +<p>"How dared I pass one of my father's workmen? +Well, Miss Barry, I happen not to be hand-in-glove with +them. I can relegate them to their proper place when an +ill-judged vanity brings them unduly forward."</p> + +<p>"You met him at <i>my</i> house: he is <i>my</i> friend, and the +friend of my aunt. His birth is as good as yours, or +mine."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I dare say!" with a satirical laugh. "Are you +really going to marry him, Sylvie? Have you the courage +to throw yourself quite away?"</p> + +<p>"Stop!" and she caught at the reins. The next +moment she was on the sidewalk. "Good-evening," she +exclaimed with the dignity of a queen.</p> + +<p>"The little spitfire!" laughed Miss Lawrence.</p> + +<p>Sylvie's displeasure mattered very little to her. A few +days later she was on her way to Long Branch, and the +episode was soon danced out of mind.</p> + +<p>As for Sylvie Barry, she made up her mind never to go +to Hope Terrace again. The friendship was not of her +seeking, and now it should end. Friendship, indeed! It +disgraced the word to use it in connection with Irene +Lawrence.</p> + +<p>That very evening she went around to the Darcys. +Neither she nor Jack mentioned the rencontre, but there +was an indescribable something in her manner that told +Jack the insult had been as much to her as to him.</p> + +<p>Hardly a fortnight later the Lawrence carriage stood at +the gate of the pretty court-yard, and the liveried driver +brought a note to the door.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">Dear Sylvie</span>,—[in a tremulous, uncertain hand] I am +wretched and lonely. Fred and Irene are away, and Mr. Lawrence<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span> +has gone West on business. Will you not, out of the generosity +of your heart, come and cheer me up a bit? I was in bed all day +yesterday with a frightful headache, and can just crawl to-day. +Do not disappoint me. I have set my heart on hearing you read, +and have some nice new books.</p> + +<div class='sig'> +Ever your obliged friend, A. L.<br /> +</div></div> + +<p>"You must go," was her aunt's comment in a sympathizing +tone. "I have promised all the afternoon to the +School Club, you know, and you would only be home +alone. Poor Mrs. Lawrence! What an invalid she has +become! And think of me,"—with a cheery laugh,—"able +to get about anywhere!"</p> + +<p>So Sylvie went up to Hope Terrace in the luxurious +carriage she thought she had tabooed forever.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Lawrence did look very poorly. She kept to her +room a great deal nowadays; or rather there were two +of them,—one off the bedchamber, with a pretty oriel +window, and exquisitely fitted up with every luxury wealth +and taste could devise.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Lawrence had already lost her interest in life. +Her two daughters were well married. Irene would be, +of course; but marriages were an old story for her. She +had loved to shine at watering-places, but the gayety no +longer lured her. She had dazzled in diamonds, silks, and +velvets, been admired on the right hand and on the left, +until it was an old, trite story. Servants managed her +house admirably. Mr. Lawrence never wearied her with +any business details. Her clothes were ordered, and +made, and hung in the closets. The carriage was always +at hand. Not a want of any kind, hardly a desire, that +could not be instantly satisfied. She had sunk into a kind +of graceful semi-invalidism, and enjoyed the coming and +going of her children, but her own time was over.</p> + +<p>"How good you are, Sylvie dear!" and, drawing the +young girl to her, she kissed her fondly. "I don't know +what I should do without you. Irene would stay at home<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span> +if I wanted her; but she is so full of life and excitement, +that it wears me out. You are not always in such a whirl +of society, and then you <i>are</i> different. You have such a +sweet, sympathetic nature, child! I can always feel it in +your hand, and your voice is so soothing. What a difference +there is in voices!"</p> + +<p>Her own was finely modulated: indeed, Sylvie used to +think sometimes that these Lawrences had more than +their share of the good things of this world. No physical +gift or grace had been denied them.</p> + +<p>So Sylvie read and talked, and sang two or three songs +before she went home. Then she came again and again, +sometimes with her aunt, oftener alone. Miss Barry took +duty calls with her neighbors as one of the demands of +society, to be fulfilled with the fine grace of thorough +good-breeding. Beyond the little formalities that always +surrounded her like a delicate hoar-frost, there was a large +heart for the weal and woe of all who could in any way be +benefited.</p> + +<p>"It is a pity to see such a waste of life," she said of +Mrs. Lawrence. "Some people, after they have served +their own turn, and had their good time, set about doing +something for God and their neighbors at the eleventh +hour; but she still clings to self, even when all the pleasure +has dropped out. If she only would exert herself a little, +her health and interest would improve, and she has so +much in her hands."</p> + +<p>One day Sylvie had turned the last leaf of her book, +when Fred Lawrence crossed the hall, having come home +unexpectedly half an hour before. "Miss Sylvie is with +your mother," the housekeeper had said; and he had +begged that they should not be disturbed. He stood now +listening to the cool, soft voice, and an odd thought +entered his mind.</p> + +<p>Sylvie should really be a daughter of the house. How +his mother liked her, depended upon her! She was not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span> +always going to watering-places and parties and theatres, +she did not talk continually of dress and conquests. He +did not despise cultivated elegance: in fact, it was a strong +point with all the Lawrences; but he knew that a great +deal of this much-praised culture ran into artificiality, +while Sylvie's elegance had the comprehensiveness of nature. +It would be quite impossible for her to do an awkward +or ungraceful act; for her innate sense of beauty, +harmony, and right guided her. Something higher than +worldly maxims toned her soul. And though he, a man +with his hands full of gold that he had never earned, could +content himself with indolent dilettanteism, he wanted an +earnest, honest, truthful woman, if he ever took a wife. +He had flirted in a lazy fashion, common with young men +who find themselves an object to women, and who have +only to raise their hand, sultan-like, to bring a host of +houris. That he had kept out of many grosser pleasures +was perhaps a credit to him, although that was not the +weak side of his character.</p> + +<p>He did not fall in love with the picture before him, +sweet as it was,—the young girl in a soft flowing white +dress (she was too true an artist to have starchy outlines), +the shimmering hair, the delicate wavering color, the proud +poise of the head, the plump white arm and slender fingers +with their pale-pink nails, and, above all, the exquisite +voice that seemed so to enter into the culmination of the +story, the last few sentences of pathos, joy, and complete +fruition.</p> + +<p>She closed her book. Neither of the ladies spoke. Mrs. +Lawrence had been deeply touched. She lived almost exclusively +in this world of fictitious sentiment, I was going +to say; but I remember that it is often a transcript of +human lives. Still she liked sentiment in books, out of +them she scarcely recognized it.</p> + +<p>There was a step and a low tap at the door; then, before +Mrs. Lawrence could answer, Fred marched in, kissed +his mother dutifully, and shook hands with Sylvie.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span></p> + +<p>He had always liked Sylvie better as a little girl than +any one else who ever came to the house, and he liked her +now. How happy his mother would be! for of course +they would go on living here. Irene would be away presently, +and his parents would need some one. His summer +work was mapped out before him; and really it was a +pleasure to think he should escape the bore of society as +one found it at summer-resorts, and entertain himself with +this piquant brown-eyed girl with a heart fresh as a rose. +He did not want a woman who had been wooed by every +Tom, Dick, and Harry.</p> + +<p>Yet another and more heroic thought entered his mind +after chatting with her a few moments. He would save +<i>her</i> as well. She might have a slight fancy for Jack +Darcy: his sisters had spoken of it, and these great, fair, +muscular giants were often attractive to women, through +the very strength and rude force with which they pushed +their suit. But such a lumbering, vulgar fellow in Miss +Barry's dainty, womanish parlor! and he smiled at the +thought. Yes, he would be doing a good deed to snatch +Sylvie from any such possibility.</p> + +<p>Fred Lawrence suddenly assumed a new importance in +his own eyes. He made himself very agreeable to both +ladies. Sylvie remained to dinner; and, when Mrs. Lawrence +would have sent her home in the carriage, he proposed +to escort her,—he wished to pay his respects to +Miss Barry.</p> + +<p>They did not take the most direct course, but, leaving +the streets with their noise of children and possibly vulgar +contact, strolled through "Lovers' Lane." The old +trees met overhead; there were dooryards full of sweet, +old-fashioned flowers, and now and then the sound of a +weak piano or a plaintive voice.</p> + +<p>"I am glad these streets have been kept free from the +vice of modern improvement," said he. "It always +brings back a touch of my boyhood when I walk through<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span> +them. Your aunt made a good fight, Miss Sylvie, when +she refused to listen to the golden tongues of speculators, +though of course you would have been much richer. But +it can be turned into money any time."</p> + +<p>"Money is not every thing," answered the young girl, +with a touch of sharpness. "Are one's own desires and +old associations to count for nothing? This place was +very dear to my aunt and to many others. I am sure +there is quite enough of Yerbury laid waste now. The +town looks as if it were a sort of general house-cleaning, +and every thing was thrust out of doors and windows. +And it was so pretty!" with a curious heat and passion. +"It was like a dream, with its winding river and green +fields, and men at their hay, and cows grazing in knee-deep +pastures. Now all the milkmaids are herded in +mills and factories; and the children,—well, there are +no children any more!"</p> + +<p>"No children!" lifting his pencilled brows in languid +surprise. "Why, I think you can find swarms of them. +The poorer the man, the larger the family."</p> + +<p>"There are babies and babies; then little prigs and +drudges. I am not sure I am in love with the so-called +civilization. For the great majority it only means harder +work."</p> + +<p>"Did we not learn in some school-book—I am quite +sure I did—that</p> + +<div class='poem'> +'Satan finds some mischief still,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">For idle hands to do'?"</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>"Are you not afraid?" She turned with a bright, +tormenting smile to the handsome young fellow, who +flushed under her clear glance.</p> + +<p>"For those who have brains, manual labor may not be +the only chance of salvation," he returned with a somewhat +haughty flippancy.</p> + +<p>"I wonder they do not turn their brains to some +account."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span></p> + +<p>They reached the gate, and Miss Barry was sitting on +the porch. Sylvie was too pretty and too womanly to be +quarrelled with for the sake of a subject that did not in +the least interest him. Beside, he meant to come in; so +he opened the gate for her, and followed in a well-bred, +gentlemanly way, that had nothing obtrusive in it. Miss +Barry welcomed him with the quaint formality, the subtile +air of education, refinement, and morality, so much a part +of herself. It pleased him extremely, and settled him in +his determination.</p> + +<p>"Sylvie has a touch of radicalism," he mused to himself; +"but it is a disease of youth, and thrives by association. +Take her quite away, and she will soon recover +her normal tone."</p> + +<p>He found his mother still up on his return, and rather +restless. She lay on her sofa, and dozed so much through +the day, that night had but little slumber to bring her.</p> + +<p>"I am so glad you did not go to Long Branch," she +remarked, as she toyed with her son's silken, perfumed +hair. "I get so lonesome when your father is away; +and he seems to think of nothing but business"—in a +complaining tone. "I do not know what I should do +but for Sylvie. She is such a charming little body! +Fred, do you think there is any truth in Gertrude's gossip +about her and that—one of your father's mill-hands, is +it not? How can Miss Barry allow it?"</p> + +<p>"There is no truth in it," with a light, scornful laugh. +"The families are neighbors, you know; and I suppose +the boor takes a look for encouragement. I shall not go +away this summer. I can find pleasanter employment."</p> + +<p>She pressed his hand, and smiled, as their eyes met. +Sons-in-law were very little to one, except in the way of +respectability, but a daughter like Sylvie would be such +a comfort! Fred had no need to marry a fortune, but +Sylvie would not be poor.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER V.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Now</span> that Fred Lawrence had come home, there was no +need of going so often to Hope Terrace, Sylvie thought. +Time never hung heavy on her hands; for she was not +indolent, and there were friends and pleasures. Miss +Barry had a conscientious misgiving that Sylvie ought to +be taken about like other young ladies; but she shrank +from fashionable life herself, and could not resolve to +trust her darling with any other person. Beside, Sylvie +always seemed contented.</p> + +<p>She was content indeed; at least, with her home and +her aunt. Up-stairs, just out of her sleeping-chamber, +she had a studio, chosen because this room, of all in the +house, had the finest view in summer, when the tall old +trees shut out so much. From here there were two +exquisite perspectives. The trees and houses were so +arranged that a long, arrowy ray of light penetrated +through a narrow space over to a small rise of ground +called Berry Hill on account of its harvest of blueberries. +Two old, scraggy, immense oak-trees still remained; +and she used to watch them from their first faint +green to the blood-red and copper tints of autumn, when +the sun shone through them. Down behind he dropped +when the day was done; sometimes a ball of fire, at +others bathed in roseate hues, tinged with all the wondrous +grades of color, and making fleecy islands in a far-off, +weird world, dream-haunted. She used to study the +grand effects of shifting light, that made the hill bold and +strong, or fused it into dreamy harmonies that seemed to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span> +have the subtile essence of music; then contrasts that +were abrupt and apparently dissonant, quite against well-known +edicts of human taste. Who was right,—the +great Author of all? She smiled to herself when she +heard people talk so glibly of nature, as if the one little +rose-leaf were the whole world.</p> + +<p>The other picture held in its soft, still, light, an old-fashioned, +low-gabled house with wide eaves; a broad doorway, +with the upper half always open in summer; a well +with curb and sweep and bucket where farm-hands came +to drink; a pond with a shady side, where cows herded +in their peaceful fashion, wading knee-deep on hot days, +chewing their cud contentedly at others, browsing through +golden hours; fields of glowing grain, then tawny stubble, +a bit of corn with nodding tassels, and not infrequently +a group of children, picturesque in this far light. It all +stood out with the clearness of a stereoscope.</p> + +<p>She had her ambitions too, this bright little girl. They +were tinctured with the crudeness of youth, and its boundless +vision, it is true; and sometimes the passion of +despair seized her soul in a cold grasp, when she felt +hemmed in on every side, and longed for some opening, +some step in the great world higher than fashionable +frivolity.</p> + +<p>Miss Barry had no taste for famous women. They +were well enough in the world: she paid a proper and +polite deference to Mrs. Somerville, Mrs. Browning, and +Rosa Bonheur,—that kind of intellectual deference that +sets them out of the sphere of ordinary women. Wives +and mothers were better for the every-day life of the +world; since pictures and poetry were luxuries, accessories, +but not home or food or clothes. Though she had +missed her woman's destiny, she had not lost faith in it; +though she had held out her hand to the woman who had +made shipwreck of her own life for the wild, graceless +brother's sake, she still looked on clear seas and smooth<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> +sailing as possible for lovers' barks. In her plans for +Sylvie there was a fine, manly, generous husband; a love +so sweet and entire that the girl should forget her restless +yearnings; baby hands to cling to her, baby lips to press, +young lives to mould, and a future to plan for others.</p> + +<p>Miss Barry believed in work devoutly, but gentlewomen +had a firm place in her creed. The paintings and music +were well enough as accomplishments, and she was proud +of them; but she delicately repressed the other dreams +and desires until Sylvie ceased to speak of them except +to her friend Jack.</p> + +<p>Miss Barry had experienced some anxiety on this point, +it must be confessed. You would never have perceived it +from the wise little woman's face or any tone of her voice. +She went more frequently to the Darcys of an evening +with Sylvie: she rolled her easy-chair and work-table to +the opposite side of the sitting-room, where it commanded +a view of the piano and the sofa in the parlor, the door +being always open. She could hear and see, she could +make pleasant, trenchant remarks: indeed, she was one +of themselves, as young in heart, if the hair did glisten +silvery under the bit of exquisite thread-lace that did duty +as an apology for a cap.</p> + +<p>Jack and Sylvie were not lovers. A rare good friendship +it was, more perfect than brotherly and sisterly +regard, in that it held no duty-element, and was spontaneous. +Sylvie never laughed at Jack in his awkward +boyish days: he had never tormented her small belongings +as brothers are wont to do.</p> + +<p>Miss Barry feared the flame might be easily fanned. A +little opposition or warning would bring Sylvie's innocent +wandering thoughts to a focus, and kindle the fire. She +was very wary. She trusted Sylvie to Jack with an air +that said, "You are too honorable to betray the confidence +I repose in you."</p> + +<p>The old class prejudice spoke out in this covert objection<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> +to Jack as a suitor. She honored him sincerely for +giving up the dreams of ambitious and energetic manhood +to stay at home and comfort these two delicate women. +Yet (strange contradiction) she had a half fancy that it +betokened weakness or lack of some kind in the very content +with which he seemed to go about his daily duties. +Alas for consistency! We preach content from the pulpit +on Sunday, and on Monday glance with quiet contempt +on our plodding neighbor, who can commune with +the daisies by the wayside, while there is gold lying untroubled +in desert gulches.</p> + +<p>Honest, sturdy Jack, taking up the duty of to-day cheerfully +with a manful endurance, because the hands holding +his fate were too weak and tender to be wrestled with, +and that in his large, generous soul he could not war on +a smaller antagonist, neither was it his nature to continually +thrust any sacrifice he might make before the eyes of +the one he was benefiting. How much silent heroism +goes unpraised in the world, while we stand on the highways, +and prate of our discrimination, our quick insight! +Jack might be praised for his self-denial, but the higher +appreciation was withheld. Even Sylvie was fretted at +times, because he would get interested in all things pertaining +to the mill.</p> + +<p>Miss Barry said to herself, "It is best that Sylvie should +marry in her own circle, a man of cultivation, refinement, +and position. Jack is a dear good fellow, but not the +person to satisfy her for a lifetime."</p> + +<p>Jack thought nothing at all about it. He never gave +up the idea of a great wide world, where he could have a +hand-to-hand struggle with something as powerful as himself. +He had come to no dreams of wife and children. +He did like Sylvie with all his big, honest heart. If she +had fallen in love with him, and betrayed it by some girlish +sign, he would have been startled at first, then thought it +over in his slow, careful way, asked her to marry him, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span> +loved her devotedly all his days, leaving the dreams to the +past with a tender benediction.</p> + +<p>But Sylvie was no more in love than he.</p> + +<p>As I said, she decided that she was not needed at Hope +Terrace, and staid away four days. Then the carriage +came, with a beseeching note. Had Fred gone again?</p> + +<p>She found him there in all his elegant listlessness. It +exasperated her strangely.</p> + +<p>"What have you been about, Sylvie?" cried Mrs. +Lawrence. "Is your aunt ill? It seems a full week +since you were here."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no!" with her beguiling little smile. "I cannot +tell exactly what, only I thought"—</p> + +<p>"You thought because Fred was home I would need no +one else! As if a love-story would not bore him, and an +invalid's whims—well, men are not women, my dear," +decisively, and with a complacent expression as if she +had settled the argument beyond any question, for the first +time since the world began.</p> + +<p>"Why, you never tried me on a love-story," interposed +Fred. "You do not know how deeply sympathetic I +might be with your favorite heroines."</p> + +<p>"He is laughing at us, Sylvie. Ah, well! I suppose it +is a man's duty to <i>make</i> love, not to listen to it second-hand. +How charming and fresh you look this morning! +And how lovely it is after the shower of last night! Fred, +if you could leave Latin verses and Greek essays you +might take us to drive. We could stop and bring your +aunt with us for lunch, Sylvie."</p> + +<p>"Thank you for her. She has gone to Coldbridge to +see about a nurse for the Orphans' Home, and will not be +back until four."</p> + +<p>"Then I can keep you without a single scruple," and +Mrs. Lawrence looked oddly pleased. "Fred, tell them +not to put the horses out. What wonderful health your +aunt has, Sylvie! I don't see how she can endure the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span> +bother of those schools and institutions: it would wear me +out in no time. But I have had a family of children;" +and she leaned back on her pillow with a satisfied air.</p> + +<p>The carriage came around again; and with the assistance +of a maid, Sylvie, and her son, Mrs. Lawrence +walked down stairs. He handed both ladies in, and +seated himself opposite with the air of a prince.</p> + +<p>Sylvie looked so bright and gay this morning, her velvety +eyes full of tender light, her cheek all abloom with +youth and health, the sweet scarlet lips half smiling, and +her attire far enough removed from the rigor of fashion to +have a kind of originality about it. She always wore +something that added tone and brightness,—a bit of +colored ribbon or a flower, or a bow that flashed out unexpectedly, +as if greeting you with laughing surprise.</p> + +<p>"What do you do to mother, Sylvie?" Fred asked, +with a touch of complimentary curiosity in his voice. +"Yesterday she was dull and moping. I could not persuade +her to drive."</p> + +<p>"It was so warm, no wonder. I felt dull and drowsy +myself. But to-day is the perfection of loveliness."</p> + +<p>"And you have a charm, Sylvie. I do not know but +it is your perfect, buoyant health. You seem to lift one +up. I only wish I could keep you all the time," remarked +Mrs. Lawrence with a touch of longing.</p> + +<p>Sylvie colored, and averted her eyes: then she gave +herself a kind of mental shaking, and resolutely glanced +back, uttering some rather trite remark. She would not +suspect or understand.</p> + +<p>They came home again, and had lunch: then, while +Mrs. Lawrence was taking her siesta, Fred carried off +Sylvie to his study. It was luxuriously beautiful. Several +gems of pictures adorned the wall, which had been newly +frescoed to suit his fancy. Easy chairs lured one to test +their capacious depth, some exquisitely-bound books were +arranged in a carved and polished case, and the table was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span> +daintily littered with papers. He had an idea that a +man's surroundings were a very fair index to his character +and tastes, quite forgetting that it implied length of purse +as well.</p> + +<p>He made spasmodic attempts at literary work. Abstruse +essays were begun under the impression that he had +something brilliant and original to say, but before they +were finished a new train of thought led him captive. He +dreamed delicately sensuous dreams, lapped in luxurious +idleness, the rooms stifling with odorous hot-house flowers. +He went clothed in soft raiment, he sunned himself in +languid seas of imagination, and was too indifferent to +concentrate his powers upon any great faith or belief, or +even emotion. He had a contempt for cheap and plain +belongings, as leaning insensibly to vitiation of taste. +Nothing modern met his approbation. The old-time philosophies +won him with their subtile flavor. He could +propound his theories eloquently, but they did not touch +him deeply enough to rouse him into action of any kind. +All that his education and culture had done for him so far +was to develop an incapacity for any regular, wholesome +work that would be of the slightest use to any human +being.</p> + +<p>Something of this passed through Sylvie's mind as she +sat there. This handsome and stalwart lily of the valley, +with no desire for toiling, and no ability for spinning, +would be content to drift and dawdle through life on his +father's money. At that moment he was more contemptible +to her than Irene, winning lovers by the score, and +casting them aside with no more compunction than if they +were the litter of faded flowers.</p> + +<p>After all, why should she care if he did not reach her +standard of moral and intellectual excellence, of that +knightly chivalry whose rallying-cry was, "God and my +fellow-men!" Why should she desire to rouse him from +that complacent ease and fastidiousness, brought about by<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> +wealth, and the certainty of no need of effort on his part? +Surely she was no modern apostle carrying around the +watchword of work.</p> + +<p>Yet somehow—if all the subtile forces running to +waste in both him and Jack could be galvanized into earnest, +active life; if the sturdy, wholesome thought of the +one could be mated with the clear, crisp training of the +other; if both could have the wide outlook beyond material +wants and comforts! It fretted her.</p> + +<p>Yet these two, sitting here on this peerless summer +day, skimmed over wide fields like gay butterflies. She +could not be in earnest with him. Just when she was +roused and warm, he seemed to lift her by some flight of +eloquence, and waft her to his realm of fancy. It annoyed +her to find he had that much power over her.</p> + +<p>It must be admitted that when Fred Lawrence willed, he +could be extremely fascinating. Women yielded gracefully, +nay, eagerly, to his sway; and much delicate flattery +had their eyes and lips fed him upon. Sylvie piqued him +a trifle by her utter unconcern—or was it the fine instinct +of coquetry inherent in feminine nature?</p> + +<p>There was no telling what this queer, bright, unconventional +little thing might do if left to herself. A good +marriage would prove her salvation. She had many womanly +possibilities: yet, with all due deference to Miss +Barry and her old blue blood, Sylvie might overstep the +bounds, and take up some of the reforming projects so +dear to elderly spinsters. As Mrs. Fred Lawrence she +would be held regally above them, and could depute her +charitable work to her aunt.</p> + +<p>In justice to the man, it must be confessed that Sylvie's +dainty, piquant loveliness stirred his soul; and, if self had +not been so intense a centre, he might have been ardently +in love, or clearer-sighted. Much of the time her demeanor +toward him was coldly indifferent: yet the misfortune +was, her interest in all things kindled so easily that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span> +she could not, at a moment, change to him. Her moods +of reticence and shy evasion added a flavor to the cup. +With a man's egregious vanity, he jumped at the conclusion +that these little intangible things signified love.</p> + +<p>One day Sylvie stumbled over Irene. She came flying +up stairs with some choice nectarines for Mrs. Lawrence, +a kind that seemed only to reach perfection in Miss Barry's +old-fashioned garden. There sat Irene, superb, nonchalant.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you little darling!" clasping her, and pinching +the peach-bloom cheek. "I am so glad to have a glimpse +of you; for mamma has sung your praises until I ought +to be jealous, but out of my boundless generosity I still +smile upon you. No need to ask how <i>you</i> are, but one +may inquire after your aunt?"</p> + +<p>"Miss Barry is quite well," Sylvie said with some constraint, +remembering their last parting.</p> + +<p>Irene had honestly forgotten it. She laughed now, a +low, ringing, melodious laugh.</p> + +<p>"Why, it is quite a treat to see you open wide your +sunrise eyes. I have taken everybody by surprise, and +enjoy it immensely. Gerty and I are off to fresh fields +and pastures new, and home came right in my way. Sylvie, +you are a good little creature to come and amuse +mamma when her own lovely and amiable daughter is +racing after the pomps and vanities of this naughty world. +Sit down;" and she made room on the sofa beside herself. +"Don't let such a frivolous creature as I turn you +from the post of duty."</p> + +<p>"I did not come to stay," Sylvie answered rather stiffly.</p> + +<p>"As if the intention were cast in adamant! Oh! why +is not Fred here to use his persuasive tongue?"</p> + +<p>There was a peculiar laughing light in Irene's eye that +annoyed Sylvie, for it seemed to indicate a secret knowledge.</p> + +<p>"I can stay just half an hour," was the reply in a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span> +decisive tone. "At eleven I take my lesson in painting.— Aunt +wanted you to have these, Mrs. Lawrence, in their +first bloom of ripeness."</p> + +<p>"They are delightful. A thousand thanks to both of +you, my dear."</p> + +<p>"And you really manage to exist in this dull place, +Sylvie! You are a miracle of content," interposed Irene.</p> + +<p>"I have not come near dying yet," was the rather dry +rejoinder.</p> + +<p>"You need not be so curt and sharply sweet, my dear. +Here I have been listening to marvellous accounts of your +amiability and devotion"—</p> + +<p>"Don't, Rene!" implored her mother. "Sylvie <i>is</i> +good to me."</p> + +<p>"And it might make the sweetness weak if she stretched +it out to me! Keep it intact for those who so delight in +it. I am fond of spice and high flavoring."</p> + +<p>"These nectarines are perfect," declared Mrs. Lawrence. +"One can taste the sunshine in them."</p> + +<p>"How poetic, mother mine! Does Fred come and read +Latin verses to you and Sylvie? I may have one"—stretching +out her jewelled hand. "Oh, they are delicious! +worth coming home for, even if I had not wanted +mamma's pearls."</p> + +<p>"And money and every thing," added her mother. +"Rene, you ought not to be so extravagant. Papa is +quite depressed with the state of business."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I have heard <i>that</i> ever since I left my cradle;" +and Rene laughed gayly.</p> + +<p>It suddenly crossed Sylvie's mind: what if this proud, +imperious girl should be reduced to poverty some day?</p> + +<p>"Don't plan a conspiracy against me, Sylvie Barry! I +saw it in your eyes!"</p> + +<p>A vivid flush overspread Sylvie's face, as if she had +been caught in the commission of some crime. Irene's +laugh rang again with a peculiar irritating sound.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I could not form a conspiracy against you—even if +I so desired. And I must go."</p> + +<p>Sylvie rose with a haughty air.</p> + +<p>"Wish me worlds to conquer at least, or scalps to +hang at my belt. No? You ungracious little thing! +There is a good-by kiss to show you that I always hold +out the right hand of peace."</p> + +<p>"Have the carriage, Sylvie: it will not take a moment"—</p> + +<p>"No, thank you," in a crisp tone. She would have +nothing of these Lawrences just now.</p> + +<p>"Fred will get a spicy wife," commented Irene, with +a peculiar smile.</p> + +<p>"She is never so with him. They get along beautifully," +said the mother.</p> + +<p>"Fred is too lazy to rouse Sylvie. Women have quite +spoiled him. And Sylvie is ever so much prettier when +a trifle vexed. Don't tell me about her angelic qualities, +though I suppose she does keep super-amiable before you +and Fred just now. I wonder if I could if I were in +love!"</p> + +<p>"Irene, I am sorry I hinted it. If you begin to tease +Fred"—</p> + +<p>"I shall not: set your heart at rest. I give full and +free consent, and approve heartily. Beside, the little +thing might throw herself away if she was not looked +after. There will always be some one to stay at home +with you."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Lawrence turned to her book and her nectarines; +and Irene tumbled over jewel-cases,—a proud, imperious +beauty, whose heart had never been touched, who cared +only for pleasure and triumphs. Over yonder, men and +women were toiling, that she might have gold to squander. +They lived scantily, that she might feast. And the brave +old world, seeing it all, uttered a silent groan. One day +it would speak out.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER VI.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Sylvie Barry</span> meanwhile walked along rather rapidly +for a warm morning. She felt irritated. Her sweet +lips were set in defiant curves, the red heats of annoyance +burned and faded on her cheek with each passing thought, +and there was something out of harmony: a fateful discordance +that swept over her, as if the parts of music had +been wrongly put together.</p> + +<p>Did they think—did Fred imagine—</p> + +<p>She had never faced the idea before. Now she thrust +it out in the garish sunlight. Her eyes sparkled, but +there was no triumph in the girl's fine, resolute face. +This man might lay his father's wealth at her feet, borrowed +plumes in which he was quite content to shine; his +heart—and a smile of withering scorn crossed her red +lips. She would be a little dearer than his horse: dogs +the fastidious man could not endure. Practically his +wooing would be,—</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"I will love thee—half a year,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">As a man is able."</span><br /> +</div> + +<div class='unindent'>Not because of a fresher, fairer face: he would give her +all he had, all that he could rouse his languid pulses to +experience. She would be lifted out of her present occupations +and interests; for Sylvie was too clear-eyed to +blind herself with the specious reasoning that as the wife +of a rich man's son, she would be a greater power in the +world for good. They would fit her into <i>their</i> sphere. +She fancied herself coming to an aimless middle-life like<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span> +that of Mrs. Lawrence, taking no interest in any thing, +but reading novels, and complaining, to pass away the +time.</div> + +<p>Did she really care for any one else? More than one +young man in Yerbury had paid her the peculiar deferential +attention that asks encouragement if there is any to +give, but is too truly delicate to proceed without. Then +there was Jack, who understood her soul better than any +one else; but had he touched her heart in a lover-like +way?</p> + +<p>She turned her clear, honest eyes to the blue overhead, +as if taking Heaven for a witness. Her heart and fancy +were quite free. Much as she cared for him, there was no +thrill of that high sentiment in it.</p> + +<p>In some fascinating ideal life she had seen a lover with +whom she could walk down through the years, whose life +would touch hers at all points, who could fathom the +depths of the nature that so puzzled herself, who could +measure and supply the yearning reaches of intellect; +who could awake in her soul a love, strong, deep, and +unquestioning, so fervent, indeed, that she would turn +from all other dreams and desires to him. A young +girl's ideal—perhaps it is well for the world that some +women have ideals, and keep faith with them.</p> + +<p>As for Fred, his vanity led him straight on. She tried +honestly to place herself right in his estimation; but he +misunderstood her, and liked her the better for the +variety. She saw too, with dismay, that her aunt favored +him. Her natural kindness of heart shrank from the +pain of rejecting him, and to her the triumph had no +pleasure. But in her anxiety and desperation she saw +only this one course.</p> + +<p>He dropped in nearly every day, he took her and Miss +Barry to drive. He haunted croquet-parties, which he +hated, because she accepted invitations to them. He +never met Jack. Some fine sense warned the latter that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span> +an encounter in Sylvie's parlor would be uncomfortable. +Yet, strange to say, sometimes when he saw the handsome +fellow sauntering by, a peculiar tenderness came +over him, remembering the little boy who had clung +fondly to him.</p> + +<p>An old-fashioned courtship would prove no end of a +bore, Fred decided. So one day he marched over to +Larch Avenue when he knew Miss Barry was alone, and +laid his case before her. She received him with graceful +kindliness, listened to his offer, and assented with evident +pleasure. There was not a happier woman that night in +all Yerbury than Miss Barry. The care and desire of +her life had been justly crowned. Her good-night kiss +to Sylvie was inexpressibly sweet.</p> + +<p>Fred did not see Sylvie for the next two days, but +meanwhile wrought himself into a state that he was quite +sure was proper and well-bred love. Then she came to +Hope Terrace, and they kept her to tea. The late, heavy +dinners were dispensed with at present.</p> + +<p>"Will you walk home, to-night, Sylvie?" asked Fred. +"I feel in a walking mood."</p> + +<p>"The slightest symptom of industry ought to be encouraged," +she made answer gayly. She had been of +some real service this afternoon, charmed away a fretful +headache, and restored Mrs. Lawrence to a comfortable +state of feeling, and was correspondingly light-hearted. +Then, too, Fred had kept out of the way, and been gravely +polite to her at the tea-table. She liked him in such +moods.</p> + +<p>It was a late August evening, with a small crescent +moon shining softly as if its forces were well-nigh spent. +The heat of the day was over, and the falling dew evolved +a kind of autumnal sweetness, the flavor of ripening +fruits rather than flowers. Yerbury was very quiet in the +part they were to traverse. They walked under great +maples where a shadowy light sifted through, and the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> +houses looked like fragments of dreams, with here and +there a lamp in a distant window. The slow wind wandered +through pines and hemlocks, as if some fairy Puck +had laid his finger to his lips, saying to crooning insects, +"Hush, hush!" A night to dream as one went down +"Lovers' Lane."</p> + +<p>Sylvie was radiantly beautiful. Her face always +changed so with her moods. Every feature had a perfect +sculptured look, but intensely human,—the straight nose +with the flexible, sensitive nostrils, quivering at any sudden +breath, the dainty chin and white throat, the red +curved lips that seem to smile at some inward, richly +satisfying thought, the large lustrous eyes serious as those +of a nun, and the calm, clear brow that seemed to index +the strength and fineness of the nature. He did not take +in any of the occult meanings: to him she was simply a +pretty girl whom he could dress in silk instead of lawn.</p> + +<p>The small hand had lain on his arm without the faintest +movement. Now he took it in his, and pressed it softly. +She frowned, and made a slight, repellant gesture.</p> + +<p>"Sylvie?" with a lingering intonation that was hardly +inquiry.</p> + +<p>"Well!" roused out of her quiet into a momentary +petulance.</p> + +<p>"Sylvie, I love you. Will you be my wife?"</p> + +<p>In his most commonplace dreams he had never made +love so briefly. He startled himself.</p> + +<p>"Don't!" in a short, decisive tone, as if he were +merely teasing.</p> + +<p>"Sylvie, I am in earnest;" and in his tone the man +spoke.</p> + +<p>"Then I think you are mistaken." She seemed to +look at him in the cool light of invincible candor and +honesty.</p> + +<p>"No, Sylvie, I am not mistaken," gaining courage that +it was to be argument instead of sentiment. "I have had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span> +this purpose in my mind for some time, and have solicited +your aunt's consent. You have only to say"—</p> + +<p>"I have many things to say, but assent is not one of +them;" in a voice that, though low, seemed to cleave the +air with a steely ring. "You think you love me. Perhaps +you do—as far as you are capable of loving any +thing beside yourself. You have seen a good deal of me +this summer, and have made up your mind to marry. I +possess some of the necessary requirements, and doubtless +suit you better than any mere fashionable woman. +But you have none of that intense desire that makes a +matter of life and death of love, that elects one woman, +or forever keeps a vacant niche in the soul."</p> + +<p>"Sylvie!"</p> + +<p>Her passionate words stunned him. He turned to her +with a puzzled look, a certain helplessness, as if he were +stranded on some far, foreign shore. And then he met +her lustrous eyes, so clear that they were almost pitiless +in the glow of undimmed truth.</p> + +<p>"Can you not trust me?" with the gentle reproachfulness +so winning to most women, so confident of a victory +over a heart that loves.</p> + +<p>"I could trust you to care for no other woman when +your word was passed, but it seems to me," and her heart +swelled with something like contempt, "that you are but +playing at love. Marriage in your estimation is a fit and +proper step: your mother likes me, you prefer me to any +one else"—</p> + +<p>"Good heavens, Sylvie! what more do you want?" +and a flood of scarlet mounted his calm, handsome brow. +"When a man chooses a woman out of the whole circle +of his friends and acquaintances, what higher compliment +can he pay her? I have seen women beside those in +Yerbury; and, though it may savor of vanity, I believe +there <i>are</i> those who would appreciate"—</p> + +<p>"I wonder you did not go to them;" with a fine irony, +cutting short his sentence.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Because I liked you, chose you."</p> + +<p>"I do not so desire to be chosen," she answered quickly. +"The man I marry must win my respect, my highest +faith; must have an aim, an ambition, and not dawdle +through life as some silly woman might."</p> + +<p>The decisive voice seemed to cut a path between him +and her as it went. It struck home uncomfortably.</p> + +<p>"Then I suppose you call all men not engaged in manual +labor, dawdlers,—scholars, poets, men of leisure, who +can devote their lives to work that requires patience and +fineness of detail, rather than the heavy swing of a blacksmith's +hammer. When a man has no need of work"—and +Fred paused, a trifle out of temper.</p> + +<p>"I do not believe God ever made an idler," she said, +with high gravity that widened the gulf between them. +"To whom much is given, much will be required."</p> + +<p>How unreasonable she was! He hated women who +flung texts or proverbs at you; and yet he did not hate +her. She had a girl's flighty notions, born of crude contact +with inferior minds, and perhaps over-much novel-reading.</p> + +<p>"I do not exactly understand what a man must do to +win your love," he said in one of those calm, intensely +irritating tones. "I have chosen what suited me best,—culture, +refinement, and the education that fits me for the +sphere in which I am likely to move all my days," impressively. +"It is true, much of the wisdom of the world +is little to my taste. I do not know why a man should +wade through a slough of evil for the sake of repenting +afterward, for looking white in contrast to that foul +blackness. The ninety and nine just ones seem to me +the better example."</p> + +<p>"I am afraid I shall not be able to make you understand," +she went on, with a little hesitation. "Perhaps +I have not the power or patience to shape a man's soul +to a noble purpose or ambition. I want him strong and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span> +earnest, full of energy and that high sense of duty to all +around him, not satisfied to drift down the stream in +frivolous content, but to make the way better for his +having gone over it. I want him true as steel to his +friends, generous, yet uncompromising to his foes, to all +evil; the kind of man who, if crushed down by fate +to-day, could see some ray above his head to-morrow, +who has sufficient moral fibre not to be rigidly bound by +class feelings and narrow prejudices."</p> + +<p>Sylvie paused, startled at herself. She had never +framed her hero in words before, and that she should do +it for this man!</p> + +<p>"These are the heroes of our youth, Miss Sylvie, and +you are very young," in that insufferably patronizing +tone.</p> + +<p>"I am old enough to know what I want," she retorted, +all the fiery blood in her pulses leaping to the charge. +"I think, too, I can discern between the true worker, and +him who is content with the frivolous outside show."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps not. You have been advising me, now allow +me a like privilege. Do not imagine me actuated by +jealousy,—that vice of the Moor is not in my nature. I +have seen with some surprise that your fancies were for +those beneath you in the social scale. A woman always +loses in this dangerous experiment. She seldom raises +her commonplace hero to a level with the gods, and is +much more likely to be dragged down."</p> + +<p>She turned suddenly, her face flaming scarlet. The +indignation misled him. He took it as a sign of personal +anger, and wondered if she could, if she <i>dared</i>, throw +him over for that coarse, stupid, blundering fellow.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he continued, glad to stab her in a vulnerable +point; "you certainly have made a mistake, if you think +this soul an aspiring one. A boy who excels in brute +strength and force merely, a man who makes a deliberate +choice between the nobler results of education and the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span> +common purposes of rude daily labor, will hardly rank +with a knight of Arthur's time, even if some self-deceived +woman chooses to lavish her affection upon him."</p> + +<p>"If you mean Mr. Darcy"— And she stood quite +still, tremulous with passion.</p> + +<p>"I mean Mr. Darcy." She had not shown such delicate +consideration for his feelings that he should hesitate. +"I do not see how you, with your artistic tastes and +refinement, can find companionship in such a nature. I +understand it very thoroughly. Beware, for you cannot +plead even daffodil blindness, my fair Persephone."</p> + +<p>Sylvie Barry could have struck the man beside her. +All the passion of her nature surged up in contempt, great +waves of white heat. If a look could have annihilated, +hers might. Even in the shady gloom, he saw the flashing +eye and quivering lip of scorn.</p> + +<p>"Do not distress yourself about me," she answered, +with suave bitterness. "Jack Darcy may be a mill-hand; +but he has the honor, the white soul, of a gentleman! +And you—you dare to trample on what was once a +friendship!"</p> + +<p>"I believe he was once my admiration because he used +to show fight so easily. He was for marching West then, +and doing some grand thing; but you see his hero days +are gone by. Ten years from this he may be a demagogue, +a rank socialist, whining about equality. Still, if +I must congratulate you"—</p> + +<p>She made a haughty gesture, and her first impulse was +to let it go; but her truthful nature could not brook the +implied deception.</p> + +<p>"You may congratulate me upon the friendship alone," +with a clear, sharp emphasis.</p> + +<p>His shattered self-confidence returned suddenly, shaped +to arrogance. If she was not entangled with Jack Darcy, +there certainly was no one else.</p> + +<p>"Sylvie," he began loftily, "this has been child's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span> +play, and I am heartily ashamed of my share of it. Let +us go back, and forget it. You have had your tilt at +windmills; so suppose we return to common sense. You +are still heart-free, it seems; and I beg pardon for repeating +foolish gossip. Your aunt has accepted me as your +suitor; my mother is waiting to receive you as a daughter; +and I think," with some pride in his tone, "that few +men can offer you a cleaner hand, or a better record. +You will have a life of ease and leisure, and— Why, +Sylvie, you can teach <i>me</i>,—you can help me up these +glowing heights."</p> + +<p>"I have answered you!"</p> + +<p>She seemed to grow tall and regal as she stood there +by the gate, the long, arrowy ray of lamp-light from +within illumining her proud, cold face, that could flush +with such bewildering warmth. He discerned in some +dim way that she had access to a life far above his; an +atmosphere like hoar-frost surrounded her, raying off fine +points, that thrust him farther away into darkness and +coldness. Had something been taken out of his life?</p> + +<p>The man's well-nigh imperturbable complacency had +received a shock.</p> + +<p>"Good-night," in a softer tone. One cannot break a +pleasant friendship without a pang.</p> + +<p>As one in a dream he heard the gate close, the soft +footfall on the brick walk, and a waft of voices from within. +Then it occurred to him that he, Frederic De Woolfe +Lawrence, had been rejected by this little girl upon whose +head he had meant to shower the blessing of marital protection, +the regard of a soul that was not quite indifferent, +after all. What was this dull pang somewhere in his +symmetrical, well-kept body? Was it the night that +made his pulses heavy and turgid?</p> + +<p>Then he turned. "By Jove!" he muttered, "there's +not another girl in the country that could have kept her +fingers out of the governor's money-bags! Poor mother!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span> +What a disappointment for her! Of course Sylvie will +marry Jack Darcy,—Pluto and Persephone again."</p> + +<p>Then he softly whistled a stave of opera-music, and +sauntered about leisurely. He had no fancy for facing his +mother that night.</p> + +<p>As for Sylvie, she knew her face was very white when +she entered the door; but she bustled about with womanly +evasion, and began to ask if her aunt had been lonesome, +if any one had called, and declared she was tired from +walking home, and her head ached a little, which was +true; and presently the two women barred their doors, +and went to bed.</p> + +<p>Was she glad to have it over? Was she sorry she had +left no loop-hole for future hope? Strange to say, she +could not tell.</p> + +<p>"But I could never live, like a pauper, on some other +person's money!" she thought decisively. "And he did +not care. It was for his mother's sake chiefly."</p> + +<p>Again there was a breach between the Montagues and +the Capulets, this time crossed by no lovers' hands. Mrs. +Lawrence was highly indignant, Miss Barry vexed and +sore disappointed. They went the even tenor of their +way, however, while the poor self-made invalid at Hope +Terrace grew more querulous and exacting. Fred took a +week at Saratoga to restore his wounded vanity, and then +settled himself at a hotel in New York, wondering if he +had not better read a little law to pass away the winter. +Mrs. Minor was a queen of fashion, and she was glad to +have the attendance of her handsome brother. Irene and +Mrs. Eastman flitted about like gay butterflies, with trains +of admirers. The faint mutterings in the financial world +made little difference to them. It was their province to +spend, to enjoy; and what the strata beneath them did or +suffered or hoped, was of no more account than the far-off +ocean-froth beating up on the hard white sand,—picturesque +in a drama or a story.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER VII.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">It</span> was a dull, gray day, the first of December. Autumn +had set in early this year. There had been a week +of cold rain that had quite destroyed the magnificent foliage, +one of Yerbury's greatest charms; and it became a +sodden mass, trodden under foot by pedestrians. The +ground was baked by sharp frosts at night, making the +unpaved streets a mass of ruts early and late, and quagmires +in the middle of the day.</p> + +<p>Yerbury had changed much from the pretty, clean, +thriving country-town, to something that aped a grand +city; unfinished streets, small farms laid waste, rows of +pretentious houses or florid cottages that had never been +thoroughly completed, nearly every one adorned with the +ominous placard, "For Sale." They needed painting and +tidying: vines were left about, dahlia-stalks hung to +poles, steps were awry, and gates swinging on one hinge; +heaps of ashes and garbage lay here and there.</p> + +<p>This day Yerbury wore a particularly listless air. The +leafless trees hung out long and drooping arms, that +swayed to and fro in the biting wind. The sullen sky +overhead added its tone of dreariness to the picture. +There was no cheerful whir of factories and shops, no +brisk steps of men going to and fro, though there were +enough standing around in groups with scowling faces +and compressed lips, or flushed with angry gesticulation.</p> + +<p>The only places that evinced any air of business were +the beer-shops. Here a man harangued his fellows; there +he did not deign to argue, but openly cursed. "Let's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span> +treat on that!" said one. "I'll stand to that sentiment," +declared another. Sometimes voices rose so high that a +proprietor was forced to command order.</p> + +<p>Yerbury was on a strike. There had been a new scale +of prices with the opening of autumn, submitted to by +most of the men with a sympathetic good-nature. Trade +was getting dull. Fancy prices no longer ruled. An +ominous feeling pervaded all classes. Building fell off. +One tenant gave up his house, and took part with another. +Housewives looked about for the cheapest market, and +talked of making last year's coat or cloak do for the +winter.</p> + +<p>Hope Mills had been among the first to propose this +second reduction. David Lawrence had returned from his +business tour much depressed. There was an undercurrent +of distrust, a disinclination to lay in stock, a wordless +questioning from eye to eye, with no hopeful response.</p> + +<p>Horace Eastman had worked himself into the charge of +the inside business. He had no real interest, but a liberal +salary; and Mr. Lawrence felt that he lifted a weight of +care from his shoulders. If only Fred— But with college +training and elegant tastes he could hardly be expected to +take to the dull routine of business cares. So matters +had been left more and more to Eastman, who was shrewd +and sharp, who always managed to get the most for his +money.</p> + +<p>Now Mr. Lawrence was appalled by the amount of +stock on hand. They had been running the mills at full +capacity all summer.</p> + +<p>"We must offer goods at a lower figure," said Mr. +Eastman promptly. "We must get command of trade +again. Prices <i>will</i> come down,—that is a foregone conclusion. +The abundant harvests have glutted the market, +and living will be cheaper. The laborer can live on less; +and, if we can manufacture at less cost, we shall be all +right again."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But there seems no demand for goods," said Mr. +Lawrence faintly. "Store-shelves are full. People are +carrying last year's stock with no call for it. It has +always seemed to me, Eastman, that a liberal policy to +workmen brought its own reward. They are large consumers. +Cut them down to mere food and shelter, and +clothes are the first to go. In decent times your workman +is ashamed of a ragged coat."</p> + +<p>"All very true, Mr. Lawrence; but, if there is no market, +we must create one. Sell cheaper stock to new men. +That will make a demand at once."</p> + +<p>"Undersell! We used to call that a cut-throat business, +Mr. Eastman;" and a flush stained the fine face, +now rather worn and thin.</p> + +<p>"It is what we must come to. There is next to no premium +on gold, and the first man who touches bottom will +be the lucky one, to my thinking. Cheap goods, cheap +every thing, will be the next cry. The farmers must dispose +of their wool, and labor must come down. Why, +ordinary workmen have been living like princes."</p> + +<p>The delicate brows were drawn thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>"I always hated to grind workmen down to a bare +subsistence," spoke the honest, loyal gentleman, as God +made him. Trade had not warped body and soul. He +was an aristocrat, if you please, and his home was as +sacred to refinement and elegance as a ducal palace. A +common person would have stood in his hall until his +errand was done, and he would never even have asked a +workman to take a seat in his office; but his soul was +honorable, if haughty.</p> + +<p>"Let me manage it," with a confident nod. "We'll +keep the topmost wave, as you will see."</p> + +<p>So to New York Horace Eastman went, and arranged +for a large auction-sale of goods, which was a remarkable +success, and created quite a ripple in the sea of stagnation. +Then he contracted to deliver another lot by the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span> +first of January, at certain prices. And now either +manufacturer must give up profits, or workman yield his +margin, and be contented with daily bread alone.</p> + +<p>"There really was no need of workmen owning houses, +having Brussels carpets and pianos," argued Eastman. +"They were in some degree answerable for the hard +times. Every one wanted to out-do his neighbor. They +were not content to live as their fathers had lived; and, +where the mothers wore print dresses, the daughters must +have silk. They had gone on altogether too fast."</p> + +<p>Yet only a few years ago workingmen had been urged +to put their money into homes. Rows of houses had been +built for them, and sold on such ridiculously easy terms, +only a trifle down. The interest would not be as much as +rent. Then the fascinating shopkeeper had flaunted his +wares in the faces of the thrifty housewives. "A good +article is cheapest in the end. This Brussels will outwear +two ingrain carpets, at a very little advance on the first +cost. No moths will trouble it, once down it is there for +years, saving worry and hard work;" and the buyer was +persuaded. Then there must be new furniture, and so on +to the end. Was it altogether their fault? The old things +were passing away. The world was awaking from its +Rip-Van-Winkle nap. There was to be a wider outlook, +a liberal cultivation, a general rising of every one.</p> + +<p>So there had been years of plenty, and men had pulled +down the old storehouses to build new ones.</p> + +<p>Such people as the Eastmans and the Lawrences could +not economize at a moment's warning. The screws must +be put on elsewhere.</p> + +<p>At first the workmen looked at each other in blank dismay. +Winter was coming on—a hard one it bid fair to +be. Coal had risen, and in spite of the abundant harvest +the absolute staples of life had not much decreased by +the time they reached the consumer. Coffees were high: +pease, beans, and chiccory were sold at a reduction, to be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span> +sure, and you could get lumpy heavy flour that spoiled +your bread, and poor butter, and teas that were colored +and doctored; and this was cheap living.</p> + +<p>There was a stormy wrangle. Meetings were held, and +speakers figured out the actual cost of living. Less than +the present rates meant loss, privation, and want in the +end. So a strike was determined upon.</p> + +<p>Jack Darcy, being foreman of one department, stood, as +it were, between the upper and nether millstone, at present +just escaping both. He thought it hard that the men +should have this second reduction so soon, and it did +seem to him reasonable that profits ought to yield a little, +that there ought to be a sympathy between them. Personally, +he should be comfortable enough; but if he had +a wife and three or four children, a helpless, bedridden +mother, or a drunken father, or a do-nothing brother, +hanging upon him, what then?</p> + +<p>He advised a little moderation and patience. It might +be better to take the wages now, and wait until spring—</p> + +<p>"They doant give up any thing, as we sees," broke in +an elderly English weaver. "The great house is full of +every thing, and coal eno' burning in the greenhouses to +ripen a few bunches of grapes out of God's own season, +as would keep many of us warm. Who puts our coal +down a dollar in the ton, or takes it off of house-rent +when wages come down? I'll work as cheap as the next +one if ye'll gi' me a cheap house to live in and cheap beef +and bread. I doant care for money in the savin's bank, +or a house that they tax all out o' sight. When I'm old +I'll go to the poorhouse, I will; but I'm danged if I like +starvin' before then, and they a-ridin' over us in their carriages. +I left 'em over yonder"—with a nod of the +head—"for that."</p> + +<p>"What do you think of it?" asked a thin, hungry-looking +man, fingering his Cardigan nervously. "See +here! If I could have one more prosperous year, I'd<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span> +be through the woods, have the house I've worked so +hard for settled upon my old woman, and would be out +of the reach of misfortune. But this thing hits me hard, +it does."</p> + +<p>"I don't believe striking will succeed just now," said +Jack candidly. "And it's a bad time. Two or three +weeks lost time will more than cover the odds in wages."</p> + +<p>"I don't want to lose time. I'd rather keep straight +on."</p> + +<p>"It's the principle of the thing," broke in another. +"I'd lose six months before I'd give in an inch. I'd +have struck the other time."</p> + +<p>There was a call for the overseers, and Jack left the +group. Eastman was talking to several of the men in his +office. A fine, portly figure he had, indicating rich living +and good wines; a man still on the sunny side of forty, +stout, rather florid, a full dark beard and hair, but with +eyes that were light and furtive; eyes that could stare +you out of countenance, and yet not meet yours ordinarily, +with a frank, outward look. He always went handsomely +dressed, and wore diamond shirt-studs, an expensive +seal-ring, a substantial watch-chain with two or three +costly charms. He had not a flashy look, but the sign +and seal of gentlemanliness was wanting in that intensely +selfish face.</p> + +<p>He had heard of the disaffection. There was not much +to say except that the new scale of prices would go into +effect next Monday morning. He never asked a man to +work for any less wages than he, the workman, considered +his services worth. Here was the work, and the wages +Hope Mills could afford to pay. They could take it, or +leave it. There were plenty of men at Coldbridge, +thrown out by the failure of Kendrick & Co., who would +be glad to come. He could fill any vacant place.</p> + +<p>But the ball grew and grew by handling. There were +union-meetings and violent harangues, much of them<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span> +truth, too, but badly and unwisely used. And the result +was that the men demanded the old wages, were peremptorily +refused, and struck. The great engine subsided, +and a Sunday stillness reigned. Down at Hull's Iron +Works the same proceedings were going on, but the +saloons seemed to profit by it.</p> + +<p>Jack hung around the mill for a while, then went down +stairs. The chilliness in the air made him draw his +coat together by one button, and slip his hands into his +pockets. He sauntered through several streets, nodding +to one and another, or exchanging a few words. Once +again his advice was asked.</p> + +<p>"I think you had better come to work to-morrow," he +said. "Don't muddle your brains with beer or bad whiskey: +that will not make the way any clearer."</p> + +<p>"A good enough lad!" was the surly comment, "but +why grudge a man a sup of beer when he can't have +wine like the big folks?"</p> + +<p>Jack had hardly planned for the enforced idleness. He +did not want to go home and read, he could not call on +Sylvie thus early in the morning, neither did he feel in +the humor for argument with any of the men. So he +stopped at the door of a small office, and turned the knob +rather hesitatingly.</p> + +<p>"Hillo, Darcy, is that you? Come in, come in! Sullen +gray day, isn't it? Off on a strike, eh?"</p> + +<p>Jack laughed,—the sound with no real music in it, the +sort of lip-service merely.</p> + +<p>"Come in, old fellow; don't be afraid. I've neither +pistol nor bludgeon, and I'll promise to treat you civilly."</p> + +<p>The man's accents were clear and curt, with a certain +ring of out-door freshness,—a capital voice to travel +with up mountain-sides and through forests. The face, +too, indicated a kind of joyous strength; for the blue +eyes were merry and baffling, the laughing lips a brilliant +scarlet, the nose neither Grecian nor aquiline, but slightly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span> +<i>retroussé;</i> a bronze moustache with long curling ends +that were undeniably red, and hair a little darker, slightly +curling as well. A broad-shouldered man with the deep +breathing of intense vitality; healthy nerves that could +enjoy laziness to the full, as well as a brisk walk across +the country.</p> + +<p>A glance at the interior showed the place to be a doctor's +office. On one side a long case with glass doors +above and drawers underneath, filled with bottles and +books and papers, perhaps in not the most systematic +order; at the farther end a fire in an open-front stove; +a luxurious Turkish lounge covered with russet leather, +and a bright wool blanket thrown carelessly over it; +several capacious armchairs; and in one, with his legs +stretched out on another, sat Dr. Philip Maverick, eight +and twenty or thirty years old, perhaps.</p> + +<p>"How nice and cosey you are! I really did not know +what to do with myself. Yes, we are all on a strike, I +am sorry to say."</p> + +<p>"Bad time," and Maverick shook his head. "What's +the prospect? Have a cigar."</p> + +<p>"The prospect is that the weakest goes to the wall, of +course," answered Jack. "Maverick, I am dreadfully muddled +on this point. I have thought of it all the +week. It <i>is</i> hard on the men. I know the general advice +is to economize more closely, but how can you do it +just at the beginning of winter? One cannot move to a +cheaper tenement, fire and lights cost more, and provision +is a little dearer. Low living in winter does not conduce +to a healthy state in the spring. Then, on the other hand, +if they are going to make such sales as they did last +month, they cannot pay the wages, and realize what they +consider a fair profit. But why shouldn't the Lawrences +and the Eastmans and many others give up something, as +well?"</p> + +<p>Jack turned an anxious face to his listener.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span></p> + +<p>"All you manufacturers have been crazy the last few +years," he said, delicately shaking the ashes from his cigar. +"The country was such an extensive purchaser through +the war, that your dreams became Utopian. Then everybody +came home with some money and no clothes, and +the people were large consumers. Now everybody has +been clothed, and the stores are full, and here is a glutted +market. Over-production, my dear fellow."</p> + +<p>"Then I do believe it would be better to leave off for +a while. Still that would not suit as well. Half a loaf is +better than no bread, to a hungry man. But, after all," +said Jack, knitting his brows, "I don't altogether believe +in the cry of over-production. The boys of war times +are men now. They are pushing in everywhere for work. +They want food, shelter, raiment. There are a great +many more people in this town than there were five years +ago. Even if we only depended on the natural increase +of population"—</p> + +<p>"But, you see, people are forever crowding into cities," +interposed Dr. Maverick.</p> + +<p>"I have a fancy they do not come much faster than +they are called," returned Jack dryly. "See what we +have been doing around here. The small outlying farms +have been bought up by speculators, cut up, destroyed +for farming purposes. Their owners with families of children +had to go somewhere. 'Come to the mills and factories,' +was shouted in their ears, and they came. Now +they are here, depending on their labor for bread, and +Eastman will bring fifty or a hundred more from Coldbridge; +and in the spring, if there is any difficulty, some +more will come. The old ones cannot go back to their +farms if they would. Their fertile gardens lie cut up into +waste squares, their fruit-trees have been despoiled: they +must starve here, or tramp to some other crowded town, +and perhaps starve there. Will your farmer take in half +a dozen hands at a moment's notice? Can they put themselves +down in any country place, and go to work?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span></p> + +<p>Maverick studied Jack intently, and then gave a low +whistle.</p> + +<p>"Upon my word, Darcy, you <i>have</i> been going over the +subject. Take the stump. And of course you go against +capital?"</p> + +<p>"No, I don't," returned Jack shortly. "Only it does +seem to me that there ought to be some place where capital +and labor could strike hands. It appears to me, both +have been to blame. We cannot condemn men for crowding +into cities, when there has been a steady call for +them. We do blame them for not laying up a little money +against a rainy day; but many of them have. Look at +the cottages that have been sold to workingmen. Look +at the bank savings. To-day, perhaps, as many poor men +could pay their whole indebtedness, according to the ratio, +as the rich. But we fly at the laboring classes, when it +is only human nature cropping out. Your millionnaire +puts his money into whatever he thinks will bring him the +greatest return; your poor man puts his capital, his capacity, +health, and strength, where it will earn him the +most money."</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't see but they are both right enough," +said Maverick. "And unless you are running over into +communistic ideas"—</p> + +<p>"I am not," was the decisive reply. "Some one much +wiser than I said, ages ago, 'He among you that will not +work, let him not eat:' yet," with a humorous laugh, "if +the rule were strictly enforced, there would more than one +go hungry, I'm thinking. The great consolation would +be that the right man would suffer, not the innocent and +guiltless."</p> + +<p>"I really do not see what you are driving at, Darcy," +and the other studied him curiously.</p> + +<p>"Well, I told you in the beginning I was muddled. I +don't pretend to see my way clear, only I think we have +just begun the fight. It is as much of an irrepressible<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span> +conflict as that other, for which so many brave men gave +their lives. And one point in it no one seems to take +note of. We are proud of the increase of population in +our country. Every city, town, and hamlet boasts of it, +and the depopulated places run to slow decay. We welcome +these people; and yet they must eat to live, and the +majority of them must work, or they will have nothing to +eat. I think the most of them labor cheerfully, and my +experience is that idleness is the worst foe of man. But, +on the other hand, every year invention so protects and +fortifies capital, that one must do a larger business or employ +fewer men. In five years the condition of labor has +greatly changed at Hope Mills, and in five years more it +will change again. This is the inexorable law of nature, +or, I ought to say, growing intelligence."</p> + +<p>"Then I should say we wanted wider markets and a +better classification of labor."</p> + +<p>A quick light came into Jack's eyes.</p> + +<p>"I think you have hit it, Maverick," he answered. +"But what is everybody's business is nobody's; and we +are so apt to forget that the world does move, and the +condition of things changes all the time," and Jack's eyes +dropped thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>"See here, Darcy, take Brock's Hall, and talk to the +men to-morrow night," began the doctor eagerly. "They +will listen to you because to a certain extent you are in +sympathy with them, one of their number; and you do +seem to have some clear ideas on the subject. No: we'll +say Wednesday night, and I will get out some posters."</p> + +<p>Jack laughed. "What shall I tell them? I can't see +how to get about the remedy clearly myself. The trade-unions +have not hit it either. When they say to a man, +'Because I will not work for a certain sum, you shall not,' +they lean on a reed that will surely break, and pierce themselves. +Hunger is stronger than theory. No: I shall +have to give the point a more thorough study before I +become a blatant apostle."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span></p> + +<p>Philip Maverick blew out a curling whiff of smoke, and +looked at his visitor through it. Darcy gave him a +curious feeling, as if a good deal of excellent material +were running to waste, that if shaped and trained, and +brought up to higher purposes, might be of much good +service to the world. Did he realize it himself? He was +twenty-four, and had a good position as things went; and +Dr. Maverick had heard the women of the house were +prudent and thrifty, and had a nice home. Was Darcy +bounded in by conservatism, or afraid of losing? or was +he honest when he said he did not know just what to do? +Yet he did not look like the kind of man to go plodding +all his days.</p> + +<p>"Darcy, you puzzle me!" he began abruptly. "With +that great body of yours, those strong arms and hands +that look as if they could wrest Nature's secrets from her +mighty soul, with that brow, and the resolute mouth, it +seems as if you ought to be in better business than +making cloth: pardon me. You don't use up half your +energy. You ought to be planning a ship-canal across +Darien, or tunnelling mountains. You're the square man; +and how upon earth did you ever get fitted so smoothly +to a round hole?"</p> + +<p>Jack laughed, and told his story very simply. To him +there was neither romance nor heroism in it, just a plain +every-day sort of compulsion. The tunnelling would have +been much more to his mind.</p> + +<p>"Go on with the problem," said Dr. Maverick abruptly. +"In the next five years I think we will all have use +for our wits. We are going to see another change in matters, +that will require more wisdom than is needed in mere +money-making. See here, I'm interested in the thing. +Let us go out, and hear what the men say about it."</p> + +<p>Maverick rose, and put on his great-coat, and lighted +another cigar. Then the two started together.</p> + +<p>Maverick had been in the town just six months. He<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span> +had studied medicine in Philadelphia and Paris, taken a +three-years ramble over Europe, when a college friend +begged him to come to Yerbury, and step into a vacant +place. And he had what he fancied an excellent reason +for it.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER VIII.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> men were, for the most part, in sullen earnest. +From their narrower outlook they could not see that capital +was on the eve of a great revulsion; that credit had +been stretched to its utmost. They had their own pet +plans, their own indolences and careless habits; and, as +was natural, their own desires were the sweetest to them.</p> + +<p>There were labor-meetings and harangues. There was +a good deal of talk about the rights of labor and the +tyranny of capital; of the rich mill and factory owners +living in palaces, and the men in hovels; of what England +had done, and of what we surely were coming to,—the +rich growing richer, and the poor poorer. But Jack remarked +that of the speakers there was not one who owned +a little plot of ground, or had a bank-account. Two of +them were disaffected English weavers, a third an Irishman, +and the only Yerbury man was a quick-tongued, but +shiftless fellow who had started in business for himself, +and failed; a kind of handy Jack-at-all-trades, and correspondingly +good for nothing.</p> + +<p>Before the close of the week the men in Watkins's shoe-shop +had struck. There was quite an army of them now. +The saloons were filled daily and nightly. Jack thought, +with a little grimness, that they might better save their +money for next week's bread.</p> + +<p>Several of the men in his room dropped in to see what +he thought; and the result was, that on the following Monday +morning ten of them presented themselves with a tolerably +cheerful demeanor, and accepted the situation. By<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span> +Tuesday night every vacant place was filled with hungry, +haggard-looking men from Coldbridge. They were jeered +at, and annoyed in various ways: the Yerbury men were +called rats and turncoats and cowards. The mills were +driven. There was another great and successful sale; in +fact, amid the failures and difficulties about, Hope Mills +loomed up like a star of the first magnitude.</p> + +<p>In the spring Mrs. Eastman and Miss Lawrence went to +Europe; and Fred joined a party of young men on a +pleasure-tour through California. Even Mrs. Lawrence +was persuaded to try Saratoga in the summer. The great +house was muffled, and left in the charge of servants; but +greenhouses, graperies, and all the elegant adjuncts were +cared for as assiduously as ever. David Lawrence used +to think it over. Sometimes he was tempted to sell out +his palatial residence, but who was there to buy? Other +men had been caught with just such elephants on their +hands. The papers were full of offers "at an immense +sacrifice."</p> + +<p>Business grew duller and duller. There was a very +great overplus of every thing, it seemed, in the world. +Harvests were so abundant, and prices so low, they were +not worth the moving. Fruit lay and rotted on the +ground: you could get nothing for it. And yet there +were wan-eyed and hungry women and children who would +have feasted regally on this waste. Mothers of families +turned and patched and darned, and said there could be +no new garments this winter, while store-shelves groaned +under the accumulation of goods. Men were failing on +this side and that; the Alton & West Line Railway stock +came down with a crash, and banks were shaky. Hope +Mills were closed for a month to make some repairs, as +business was rather slow just now.</p> + +<p>There was a great quaking in real estate as well. The +large property-owners held on stiffly: times would improve; +land was worth more to-day than ever, because<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span> +every year there were more people, and they required +more houses, and the thing would somehow right itself.</p> + +<p>Jack had taken his two feminines off to a great roomy +farmhouse, where they had a horse at their command. +Sylvie and Miss Barry were summering at the White +Mountains. Dr. Maverick found a good deal of sickness +among the poorer classes, low fevers and various troubles, +that he knew well enough came from insufficient diet. +But what was to be done? There was so little work, so +much lost time, the inexorable rent, and the importunate +grocer's bill. Up on Hope Terrace the luscious grapes +fell to the ground, and were swept up as so much litter; +the fresh, lovely vegetables passed their prime unheeded, +and were tossed in the garbage-pit.</p> + +<p>September came in hot and sultry. Hope Mills started, +but many another place did not open. There was a +strange, deathly-quiet undercurrent, like the awful calm +before a thunder-shower. Wages took another tumble, +and now no one had the courage to make much of a fight.</p> + +<p>The second week in October there came an appalling +crash. Yerbury Bank closed its doors one morning,—the +old bank that had weathered many a gale; that was considered +as safe and stanch as the rock of Gibraltar itself; +that held in trust the savings of widows and orphans, the +balance of smaller business-men who would be ruined: +indeed, it would almost ruin Yerbury itself.</p> + +<p>There was the greatest consternation. People flew up +the street, bank-book in hand; but the dumb doors seemed +only to give back a pitiless glance to entreaties. What +was it? What had happened? "Every penny I had in +the world was in it," groaned one; and the saddening +refrain was repeated over and over, sometimes with tears, +at others with curses.</p> + +<p>The old officers of Yerbury Bank had been men of +the highest integrity. Some were dead; some had been +pushed aside by the new, fast men who laughed at past<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span> +methods, as if honor, honesty, and truth were virtues +easily outgrown. Among these were the Eastmans. +George was considered shrewd and far-sighted, and for +two years had been one of the directors, as well as +Horace. They paid the highest rate of interest, which +attracted small savings from all around. There had been +no whisper or fear about it, so solid was its olden reputation. +There were people who would as soon have doubted +the Bible.</p> + +<p>Two days after this, George Eastman sailed for Europe, +on a sudden summons,—his wife's illness. There had +been a meeting called, and a short statement made. +Owing to sudden and unexpected depreciation in railway-bonds +and improvement-bonds, and what not, it was +deemed best to suspend payment for the present. In a +few weeks all would be straight again, with perhaps a +trifling loss to depositors. Already the directors had been +very magnanimous. Mr. Eastman and several others +had turned over to the bank a large stock of mortgages: +in fact, the virtue of these men was so lauded that the +losses seemed to be quite thrown into the background.</p> + +<p>But the examination revealed a sickening mass of +selfishness and cupidity; transactions that were culpably +careless, others dishonorable to the last degree. If the +larger depositors had not been warned, there was certainly +a remarkable unanimity of thought, as, for the past fortnight, +they had been steadily drawing out their thousands. +Wild railroad-speculations, immense mortgages on real +estate that now lay flat and dead: scanty available assets +that would hardly pay twenty cents on a dollar.</p> + +<p>This was what David Lawrence heard when he returned +from St. Louis, a heavy-hearted, dispirited man. Two +recent failures had borne heavily upon him. If last +winter had been dull, there was no adjective to apply to +this. His first step was to mortgage Hope Terrace. He +had deeded it to his wife, unincumbered; but now it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span> +appeared his only chance of salvation. Mrs. Lawrence +made a feeble protest at first, and demanded that Fred +should be sent for, but there was no time. He met his +pressing notes, and was tided over; but, oh! what was to +be the end of it all?</p> + +<p>An indignation-meeting was called; and so high ran +popular feeling, that new directors were appointed for the +bank. Mr. Lawrence would have fain declined, but the +community insisted. In this time of general distrust, +they came back to the loyal gentleman, who, whatever his +pride might be, had never deceived one of them.</p> + +<p>Alas! had he not enough perplexity of his own, that +this new sorrow and shame should stare him in the face, +bow him to the earth?</p> + +<p>Not his own son, thank God! not any blood kin; and +yet his daughter's husband, his fair Gertrude, of whom +he had been so proud years ago! He went back suddenly +to that old time, and seemed to see them all again as +little children, a merry household; and his pale, delicate +Fred, for whom his heart beat so anxiously. How they +had welcomed his coming!—a son to hand down the +name, a son to lean upon in his old age. Nay, those +were the extremes of life: why should not men count on +their sons through the burden and heat of middle life? +Why wait until the evening for comfort?</p> + +<p>Where was he now? Did he think of the one who had +toiled that he might spend? for, now that he looked at it +with awesome calmness, like a thing standing apart, it +was one long, dreary pilgrimage of toil. To what end? +Was gathering together riches the noblest use of a man +made in God's image? Ah, how poor and paltry an aim!</p> + +<p>Surely he had done something beside that! A pleasant +home of culture and artistic beauty, a circle of refined +people gathered about him, the evil and want and woe +of the world shut carefully out by silken curtains and +plate-glass. His daughters he had been proud of. No<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span> +<i>mésalliance</i>, no common tastes, as he had sometimes fancied +that he had detected in that pretty little Sylvie Barry. +And his son?</p> + +<p>There had been no positive evil in his life. A young +man's follies perhaps, but few vices, if any, thank God! +He would never be a libertine, a drunkard, a gambler, a +thief. But was negative goodness all? These twenty-four +years spent in shaping and culturing, but to what +end? Could he call him back from his pleasure now, and +have him take up this struggle grown too heavy to fight +single-handed? and would he be manful, brave, clear-sighted, +and unrepining? No. He felt the change would +be too great. The soul so used to ease and luxury, fine +linen and soft couches, delicate appetites, indolent habits, +intellectual pursuits and graces, to be put in rough harness +of business at once, would be cruel, nay, worse, like +chaining humming-birds to a dray-wagon. And Irene, +flitting like a butterfly through elegant <i>salons</i>, how would +she be content with poverty and a cottage?</p> + +<p>And was this all the work of his own hands? Had he +laid up no treasure against the time of adversity, made +no homes into which he might be received in his trial hour? +For two years he had struggled manfully, earnestly; and +all this time at his very gate there had been a traitor, +turning aside the stream until there was nothing but a +barren desert left.</p> + +<p>The crown of his life was poverty and ruin! For himself +he could give up luxuries, and come to plain fare; but +what of the others? This last news had swept away all +hope.</p> + +<p>He sought Horace Eastman, and confronted him with +his deceit and wrong: somehow he could not bring himself +to call it by its true name, crime, and fasten it on +the man there and then. There was a high-bred delicacy +about David Lawrence, a little of the old knightly chivalry +that in past times held a man back from striking a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span> +fallen foe. And then he was not quite sure. The dishonorable +work lay between the two men, and he forbore +to blame this one wrongly.</p> + +<p>He need not have wasted his pity on this man, or have +so nicely worded his charges. Horace Eastman stood +there, surprised to be sure, for he had counted upon getting +away before this turn in the wheel of fortune. For the +last year, though he had been outwardly triumphant, and +had carried business matters with a hopefully high hand, +he had known what the end must be, and made ready for +it with a kind of exultant elation at the sense of difficulties +surmounted and deceptions carried on successfully. +He really despised the man before him, that he had sufficient +faith in human nature to be deceived. Starting +from the principle that all men are rogues when opportunity +offers, he felt no more guilty now, than if he had +followed any other well-known law of nature. He stood +before Mr. Lawrence bland and composed: there was no +vulnerable point to strike, so he need put on no armor. +Many a time he had reasoned the matter out to his own +satisfaction, that the failure of Hope Mills was inevitable. +What with losses, dull times, and extravagant living, it +would surely come. That he owed his employer any thing +in integrity and sharp fighting with adverse circumstances, +would never enter the mind of such a man, so inwrapped +in self.</p> + +<p>"There were some irregularities for your son-in-law's +benefit," with an insolent half smile, half sneer. "He +was to explain them to you. There have been accommodations +for the mills occasionally. You were away: what +else could I have done?"</p> + +<p>A cold shiver ran over David Lawrence. That part of +courage allied to hope seemed crushed out of him as if by torture. +Could he drag his daughter's name through the +mire? for it would be that in any attempt to bring Eastman +to the point of responsibility.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Do you know how much this—this defalcation will +amount to?" He would call the monstrous thing by its +right name now, though he shuddered in every limb, and +a cold perspiration stood in great beads about his thin +temples. A third person witnessing his hesitation might +fancy him faltering and shrinking in the path of dishonor, +rather than the other.</p> + +<p>"I really have no idea," bracing up his broad, full +shoulders with portentous dignity: "George managed +that matter. No doubt there are some memoranda," +pausing with an indifferent air as if it were a matter of a +few dollars.</p> + +<p>"The bank must be made good, Mr. Eastman."</p> + +<p>"Well; as you think best, as you think best;" nodding +confidently, as if the repayment were the easiest thing in +the world. "Let me see,—would it not be better to +write to George?"</p> + +<p>What impression could he make upon this man? To +appeal to conscience, justice, or any latent sense of right, +would be a waste of words. With him success was right, +and failure the blunder or sin. He was to "do well unto +himself," to gain the world's verdict of approval. That +solid flesh made by good eating and drinking, not debauchery +or intemperance,—the man had few of these gross +vices,—that complacent strength, that keen, concentrating +force than could bend all energies in the one direction, +never looking back when he had once set his mind to a +thing, experiencing no remorse for those he crushed under +his feet so long as he went to success over them, knowing +no disinterestedness, trading simply upon the credulity, +honor, and honesty of others: he had chosen him for some +of these very qualities. Do men gather grapes of thistles?</p> + +<p>"Bring the books to my office. I shall go over them +to-night," was the haughty command.</p> + +<p>Eastman bowed and withdrew. The books were sent +by the errand-boy. Then he threw himself into his luxurious<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span> +Russia-leather chair, rested his feet upon the edge +of the desk, settled his hands comfortably in his pockets, +and began to consider. A man would be foolish to stay +and be caught in the ruin of a falling house. He might +not be crushed, to be sure; but there would be the <i>débris</i>, +and he had no fancy for clearing that away. Not only +the mills, but Yerbury, would fall flat. He did not care to +retire to a garden, and raise strawberries and corn: the +clink of gold was more melodious to his ear than the +voices of nature. There was a place for talent like his: +the quick sight and keen discrimination were still able to +give the rusty old world a lift out of ruts it had stopped +in, and send it on with a rush. He had money in some +silver-mines: he might go West, and attend to that, then +take a run over to England, and see George. After all, +was George really to blame for getting hold of his wife's +portion? He had married Miss Lawrence, believing in +good faith that she was the daughter of a millionnaire; +and, if he had been sharp enough to save something from +the general ruin, lucky for him!</p> + +<p>On the whole, Mr. Eastman thought it would be well +to go to New York for a few days until the storm blew +over. Jeffries the book-keeper could attend to all that +was needed. Mr. Lawrence would find Hope Mills in a +bad plight, to be sure; but he would not be the first man +who had come to ruin. Mr. Eastman put his desk in +order,—he never kept any tell-tale papers,—walked leisurely +out of Hope Mills with that serene, impassable +face and high heart no misfortune could daunt.</p> + +<p>David Lawrence spread the books open before him. +It would be an endless task. One fact kept burning into +his brain like fire. The Eastmans, or Hope Mills, owed +Yerbury Bank seventy thousand dollars, the hard earnings +and self-denials of poor and middle-class people. +How it stung his haughty pride, unused even to dishonorable +thoughts! If he had been an exact master, he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span> +had also been a just and honest one. Shame and disgrace +stared him square in the face, where they would +have but looked askance at Horace Eastman.</p> + +<p>It had been quite impossible to take cognizance of +every thing after the business grew so unwieldy. Then +he thought of his son again with passionate longing. +Never had he so wanted some of his own kin to lean +upon, to take counsel with, to consider what must be +done toward saving honor: that was no social figment +with him, but a deep, heaven-abiding truth.</p> + +<p>Heaven! By some strange turn of thought it entered +his mind. He was so tired, he had been so tired for +months and months, so engrossed with cares and business, +that he had hardly stepped inside a church. How +they used to go in the old days; how proud he had been +of his four pretty children, of his tall handsome girls, +and his manly son! Respectability, and setting a good +example,—these had been his motives for church-going. +Bits of sermons came back to him: how strange that he +could remember them! There was a rest from labor, a +refreshing of soul. Oh, how dark and arid, how confused +and chaotic, his felt! Was there a something he +had never known?</p> + +<p>Then he pulled himself together mentally, roused his +dreaming brain, and said something must be done. Fred +must come back, and face the terrible truth. As well +send for him now.</p> + +<p>He wrote out a message, and rang the bell. A tall, +slim youth answered it.</p> + +<p>"I want this telegram sent immediately," he said in +his quiet tone of command. "Is Farrell anywhere +about?"</p> + +<p>"I can take it, sir, if you please: I often do."</p> + +<p>"Very well."</p> + +<p>Back to the books again with their long lines of +figures. Did he think he would find the shame and ruin<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span> +here in bold black and white? He studied them until +they all ran together, and his brain seemed to become a +mass of luminous light with black motes floating about in +it. The tense agony abated. Strange visions haunted +him, frivolous fancies, and wonders that had puzzled him +in boyhood; heroic fragments of bygone declamation; +the incidents of a week ago; a picture of some bold +scenery, and he in the cars, whirling by.</p> + +<p>"Am I going crazy?" he asked with a ghastly expression. +Then he took several turns about the room, +listened to the noise of the great engine, and assured +himself that he was sane.</p> + +<p>Had he better go home? He was so tired! In all his +life he had never been so utterly exhausted. Then in a +sudden, fretful mood of contradiction he wondered he +should think of fatigue when his limbs felt strong, and +his body knew no physical pain.</p> + +<p>"I must shake it off!" he declared resolutely. Of +what avail would be going home to a wife's peevish complaints, +and sit by himself to study out this tangle? As +well stay here, and master it. And that palace yonder +was home, and these were the comforts for which he had +spent his years and his energies! This was what he had +laid up. An inheritance incorruptible—why would these +things come back to him?</p> + +<p>The mill-bell began its clang. He listened to the +tramp through the passage-ways, the confusion of voices. +He went to the window. The great gates for the work-hands +were around on the other side; but he could see +the motley procession filing down the street. Not gay +and cheerful as in bygone days: they seemed to drag +along, these girls and women in shabby clothes, their +shawls drawn around their shoulders. Old men and boys—why, +where had vigorous middle life disappeared? So +many faces had a hard, discontented look, that pierced +him like the sharp point of ingratitude. Had he not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span> +brought himself to ruin to give the people employment? +If he had shut down the mill three years ago, he would +have been a rich man.</p> + +<p>Well, why had he not? Was it thought for them? +Had the prospect of their starving lain heavily on his +soul?</p> + +<p>Ah, the love of money-getting, the fiend of covetousness! +But what would these people have done? Some +one had once said, "What is that to thee? Follow thou +me." Was it in a sermon?</p> + +<p>He lighted the gas, and went on wearily with his books. +Some one opened the door softly, and peered in. It was +Farrell, the day-man. When he saw Mr. Lawrence he +touched his cap respectfully.</p> + +<p>"Pardon me, sir: I saw a light"—</p> + +<p>"Yes, I am going to stay—all night, I think: I shall +be busy. When does the night-man come?"</p> + +<p>"At seven, sir."</p> + +<p>"I will send a note up to Hope Terrace, Farrell. +Could you take it?"</p> + +<p>The man thought of his long day's work and his +waiting supper. "Yes," he answered rather reluctantly.</p> + +<p>"Stop in, then, when you go."</p> + +<p>Farrell went off grumbling. He would go home to +supper first, that he would. These men had no souls. +That long walk— Some people always rode in chaises, +were born with silver spoons in their mouths, and looked +on the rest of the world as mere lackeys!</p> + +<p>There was some wine in the closet, and Mr. Lawrence +took a glass to clear his brain. He rarely used it save at +dinner. Then back to the tormenting books,—columns +of business that appeared incredible now. How had all +this money slipped away?</p> + +<p>Farrell tapped, and came in.</p> + +<p>"Jackson's here now, sir. Is the note ready?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. There is some change. Get a hack, Farrell: +it is too far to walk. Did Mr. Eastman"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span>—</p> + +<p>There was so long a pause that Farrell said,—</p> + +<p>"Mr. Eastman went to New York. He said he might +not be back to-morrow."</p> + +<p>Mr. Lawrence nodded, as if that were sufficient. He +would not peer into the man's business.</p> + +<p>"If you should want any thing, sir, Jackson will be at +hand," said the man kindly; for the thin, pale face, and +strange, nervous light in the eyes startled him.</p> + +<p>"Jackson," he began, when outside, "Mr. Lawrence +is going to stay a bit, maybe all night. He has a great +pile of books before him; but I'm afraid he's queer some +way. His eyes look wild and strange. Keep a lookout, +will you"—</p> + +<p>"You don't mean that he's likely to shuffle? Are +things as bad as that? Has he got a pistol?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know, I'm sure. Maybe I'm wrong;" and +Farrell counted over the money in his hand. "Anyhow, +I would walk up and down this hall, and listen."</p> + +<p>Jackson nodded, and Farrell went his way; yet now +he thought the brisk walk would not hurt him. Jackson +heeded his bidding, but all was quiet. Once he went in +the next room, and climbed up to a high sliding window, +used for ventilation. Mr. Lawrence sat there poring over +the books. At twelve it was the same. Jackson tolled +off the hour of midnight. Every thing was safe in the +great building. Then he settled himself in an easy-chair, +and presently fell into a doze.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Mr. Lawrence studied the books in a dazed, +bewildered way. Here and there a balance had been +struck, and it all looked fair. But there was a terrible +wrong somewhere!</p> + +<p>The figures danced before his eyes in lurid lights and +grotesque shapes, with grinning faces, flying, whirling, in +a wild, demoniac waltz. The room was full. The procession +he had watched to-night winding out from the +mill, stopped and jeered, and pointed skinny fingers at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span> +him. Then he was at the bank, and they came in troops, +wringing their hands, and cursing him. Strange tales +that he had read mixed with them in inextricable confusion. +Pictures of the past hurried by with panoramic +distinctness; and hark! what was that? The grand +trump of the Judgment Day? It tolled and tolled again, +like a thunder-peal. Was any one dead?</p> + +<p>He was so tired! He put his arms down on the desk, +and leaned his face on them. If he could sleep off this +intolerable weariness!</p> + +<p>He was a boy again, wading through the limpid brook, +stepping from stone to stone, and sometimes plashing +over. Was that the dried sweetness of balsam,—the +pungent odor of pennyroyal and water-mint,—the clean, +resinous fragrance of the pines? Out there were lily-pads,—great +golden-hearted chalices, with long, sinuous +greenish-pink stems under the shady, transparent water. +How cool and peaceful! The sky overhead was of palest +blue with white flecks, and somewhere a bird was singing. +If he could go to it; if he could stay amid all this sweet +quiet, and forget— What was it he wanted to forget? +Not his little Fred, surely! How proud he should be of +him in his manhood. What a help and comfort!</p> + +<p>There was a strange, sudden darkness. The head +drooped a little one side, and the visions had come to an +end.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER IX.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">When</span> Farrell returned to his post in the morning, +Jackson reported Mr. Lawrence asleep in the office. No +one thought of him again until about ten o'clock, when +some protested notes came in. Jeffries knocked at the +door, opened it softly, spoke, but received no answer; +then stepped nearer, and peered curiously at the face. It +was ghastly white, the eyes wide open and staring, and +with a shriek Jeffries alarmed the whole establishment.</p> + +<p>Old Dr. Lecounte came, pronounced him dead, and +then sent for Dr. Maverick, to whom he had taken a great +liking. Between them both they found a faint sign of +life; and he was removed to his elegant mansion on Hope +Terrace, where his wife went into immediate and violent +hysterics. They remained several hours, and decided it +to be that terrible death in life, entire paralysis of brain, +nerve, and muscle. He might linger some days; he might +drop away any moment.</p> + +<p>Horace Eastman, looking over the news items the next +morning, saw this account, and returned at once to Yerbury. +Certainly fortune had favored him. Affairs were +in wild confusion. He learned that a telegram had been +sent to young Mr. Lawrence, and an answer received. +He would be back next Monday. Mrs. Minor came up, +and brought an experienced nurse.</p> + +<p>The mill kept open until Saturday. Then Mr. Eastman +called the men together.</p> + +<p>He was very much puzzled to know what to do, he +said. He had resigned his position as superintendent<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span> +of the mills, nearly a month ago; but Mr. Lawrence had +begged him to stay on until he could come to some +decision. The affairs were in a very embarrassed condition, +and now suspension was imperative. What Mr. +Lawrence would have done, he could not tell; but he did +not feel justified in taking the responsibility. He was +most truly sorry—he could say it from his heart—for +those whose cheerful faces and light steps he had watched +year after year, until he came to have a friendly feeling +for them all; and he was shocked at the result of all this +trouble to his dear friend, to whom he was bound by a +deeper tie than that of mere business. But there had +been two years of unparalleled depression, and Mr. Lawrence +had made a brave fight. No one beside himself +knew all the difficulties that had beset his old friend's +path. It was not only here in Yerbury that trade was +dull: it was from the Atlantic to the Pacific. England, +Germany, and France were suffering as deeply as ourselves. +Production had been overdone by most of the +employers using their best efforts to keep their hands +at work in the face of a falling market, or no market at +all. Shelves were packed with goods everywhere. We +were on the eve of a great change, and it would be some +time before values would become stable again. If the +balance of trade (high-sounding, but imperfectly understood +term) could once more turn in our favor; if we +could export our surplus goods, and find new markets,—as +no doubt we would,—every shop and factory would +soon be ringing with the cheerful sound of labor. It +would be a hard winter; but he, for one, believed the +spring would open auspiciously, that business would revive, +homes be prosperous, and every heavy heart light. +Let them all take courage for their own future and that +of Hope Mills in the hands of its young master. He +regretted deeply that there was no money to pay them +with to-night; but that would doubtless be attended to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span> +soon. He wanted to bid them a cordial good-by, and +beg them to stand by young Mr. Lawrence.</p> + +<p>There was some rather faint cheering. Troubled eyes +questioned despondent eyes; what were they to do with +winter coming on? First it was the bank, now the mills, +and what next God only could tell.</p> + +<p>Fred Lawrence reached Yerbury Monday evening; and +at midnight the faint, fluttering soul of his father passed +over that mighty river. There had been no return to +consciousness. Mrs. Lawrence still lay in her darkened +room, unable to bear any sound beyond that of the trained +nurse.</p> + +<p>To say that Fred was shocked, would feebly express his +emotion. He had never dreamed of his father's dying,—never +dreamed of any thing like misfortune happening to +him, of any keener suffering than some temporary annoyance. +He felt quite helpless. His old philosophies did +not inspire him with courage, or open a way out of this +dark present. There was to be a funeral; there were +business complications; some one had to think of the +future; the mill was shut up, the fortune swept away, +and he had been stranded on a strange shore, knowing +not which way to turn.</p> + +<p>Eastman was still in Yerbury. He was intensely sympathetic +with the bereaved family. In fact, now that he +would never have to meet the eye of the man he had +so deeply wronged, his spirits rose, his pity overflowed. +Fred was quite touched by it. Hamilton Minor, with his +rather brusque business ways, jarred against his sorrow.</p> + +<p>He was rather testy with Mr. Eastman. "For the life +of me, I can't see how things have come to this pass," +he said sharply. "Hope Mills has been considered as +sound as a nut,—one of the surest places in the country. +Mr. Lawrence has made thousands and thousands. I +have known a good deal about his affairs."</p> + +<p>"It is the result of a large-hearted philanthropy,—of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span> +keeping poor devils at work when there was no demand +for goods, so that they should not starve. I should have +closed out the concern two years ago. When you begin +to lose, it is time to get out,—not wait until every stiver +is gone. But, if ever there was a noble man, it is our +dead friend David Lawrence."</p> + +<p>His chest swelled as he pronounced this eulogy, and he +laid his white hand sympathetically on his waistcoat.</p> + +<p>"What is all this bank muddle about?"</p> + +<p>"I really don't know. Heavy real-estate business"—</p> + +<p>"And you a director!" interrupted Minor, with an unpleasant +quickness.</p> + +<p>"I <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'haye'">have</ins> had so much on my hands that I did not pay +strict attention to it, I must confess. You know, Minor, +what a tremendous shrinkage there has been in values: +it seems to me as if the bottom had fallen out of every +thing. I have an interest out in Nevada that I am +anxious to look after, and should have gone a year +ago, but Lawrence begged me to hold over until matters +brightened a little. He was so sure times would improve. +By Jove! I think they grow worse and worse!"</p> + +<p>"And Fred knows no more than a baby!" said Minor, +in a tone of contempt. "You'd be a help to him, Eastman, +if you would stay and go over accounts."</p> + +<p>"I don't know about that," shaking his head slowly. +"The books are all on the square, as you will see. If +one could only make money as easily as one can add up +that which has been made and spent!" and Eastman gave +a little laugh.</p> + +<p>"But it cannot be a total loss. The house, I know, is +settled upon Mrs. Lawrence. And the mill-property"—</p> + +<p>"Mortgaged for all it is worth in such times as these. +Perhaps I ought not to speak of it, but George was in a +little difficulty which the old gentleman tided over. Too +much real estate, Minor!"</p> + +<p>Hamilton Minor had no great amount of confidence in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span> +the man before him; but then, he did not have in any +one. He was on a little of the paper, and just now he +felt exceedingly dubious about it. Some arrangement +ought to be made whereby members of the family who +had stood by Mr. Lawrence ought not to be losers.</p> + +<p>The funeral was strangely quiet and solemn; I was +about to add, select. The mill overseers and officers +were formally invited. Fred had a feeling about the men,—it +seemed as if they ought to form a procession; but +the walk to the cemetery was a long one, and Mrs. Minor +decisively negatived any plan that took in the "rabble." +The coffin lay in the spacious drawing-room, where friends +and acquaintances, in the same set, nodded solemnly, +and uttered a few words of well-bred condolence. The +mourners were up-stairs. The few coaches were filled +with men, a little group stood around the open grave, +and David Lawrence passed out of mortal sight,—his +life-work all done. Had the toil been worth the reward?</p> + +<p>The next day Eastman left for New York, and his stay +there was brief. He knew what would be surmised after +much trouble and searching, but it could not be positively +laid at his door. And with a cheerful heart he set out to +seek a new fortune.</p> + +<p>To the great surprise of Mr. and Mrs. Minor, they +found Hope Terrace mortgaged. Mrs. Lawrence could +talk of nothing, could not endure the confusion of voices +in her room. Some trustees were appointed to investigate +the whole affair, for Fred was as ignorant as a child +of all pertaining to the mill.</p> + +<p>The examination disclosed a pitiable state of affairs. +George Eastman had built up Yerbury on borrowed capital, +lived on it in luxury, speculated, lost and won like +any other gaming. He had persuaded each individual +that he was on the high road to wealth. There had been +a peculiar fascination about the man; or is it that the +appeal to greed and covetousness is so much more convincing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span> +than that to honor and truth, that the baser impulses +are quicker with their response? It was a great bubble +upon credit, and carried with it the seeds of self-destruction. +True, the bank held mortgages on rows of flimsy-built +houses where walls were cracking apart, foundations +settling, plumbing in such a condition that it was a hotbed +of disease. They would not cover the indebtedness. +The available cash had been drawn out by large depositors, +the best bonds and stocks surreptitiously sold. And +with all this there was a defalcation traceable to Hope +Mills or the Eastmans. The money had gone in that +direction. On the other hand, it was proven by the income +of Hope Mills, and the amount paid out for labor, +that there was no reason why they should not be solvent +to-day.</p> + +<p>Lavishly as the Lawrences had spent money, they had +not taken it all. No one could or did accuse David Lawrence +of private speculation. Minor had once tried his +best to induce him to join in some enterprises, but failed. +It was an easy matter to blame the Eastmans for every +thing: they were away, and could not deny the charge. +But had all these bank-officials clean hands? They had +been given a sacred trust, the savings of the poor, the +estates of widows and orphans; they had winked at investments +of the most precarious kind; they had paid a high +rate of interest, exacting a higher, which had been gladly +given for a brief while. Safe principles of finance had been +quite ignored: the new era was different from any thing +that had ever happened to the world before, and required +new men, and now they would have to go back to the old +way. Surely there is not much that is new under the +sun!</p> + +<p>To bring back the Eastmans, and try them for their +crimes, seemed hardly worth while. More than one man +in Yerbury felt that it was safer to berate them at a distance, +than meet their damaging retorts face to face.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span> +They could not get back any money. Hope Mills was +ruined beyond a peradventure, and the affairs of the bank +were best wound up as speedily as possible. There could +be no large stealings for a receiver, consequently no occasion +for delay. The sooner the wrecks and <i>débris</i> were +cleared away, the quicker the moral atmosphere would be +purified. There are wounds for which the instant cautery +means life, the careful hesitation death.</p> + +<p>And now every one looked at the exploded bubble in +surprise, and cried angrily, "What has become of the +money? Yesterday we were rich: where has it gone to? +Six months ago we had twenty per cent dividend: why +are these stocks worthless now? Why have railroads and +shops and mills ceased to pay? What sudden blight has +fallen over the world?"</p> + +<p>Alas! There had been no money. Sanguine credit +had traded on the honor and faith and nobleness of man +toward man, and, behold, it had all been selfishness and +falsehood and dishonor. Truth and virtue had been +scorned and flouted in the highway, because forsooth there +was a more brilliant semblance. Like a garment had men +wrapped themselves in it, and now it was but rags and +tatters.</p> + +<p>There could be nothing extracted from the wreck of +Hope Mills. Indeed, Fred would have given up a rich +inheritance to save his father's honor, had it been his. +To go on at Hope Terrace was madness. The fires and +the servants would cost enough to maintain a family. +Mrs. Minor and Fred quarrelled because Mrs. Lawrence +had been persuaded to mortgage the place: she simply +groaned and moaned, and wondered why they must worry +her about every thing!</p> + +<p>"I hope Irene will have the good sense to marry +abroad," said Mrs. Minor. "And, Fred, what a pity +you haven't a profession! What can you do?"</p> + +<p>Last winter it had been, "my brother, De Woolfe,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span> +whom all the young ladies in Mrs. Minor's set were wild +over.</p> + +<p>Fred gave a sigh.</p> + +<p>"I suppose I <i>can</i> do something to earn my bread," he +replied bitterly.</p> + +<p>"Fred," began Agatha suddenly, "there is that Miss +Tillon. You know how absolutely wild she was over you +last winter! Her fortune is all in her own right, and it is +a solid one too. Hamilton has had occasion to know +about it. You cannot do a better thing than marry her."</p> + +<p>Fred glanced up. His sister was in sober earnest. To +be bargained off like a woman, for a bare existence! +Miss Tillon was at least thirty, of a suspicious, jealous +turn of mind, well-enough looking perhaps, but narrow, +with no intellectual culture, no approval of any thing +beside her money. He had been amused at her preference. +Possibly she might marry him, and rescue him +from the pains of poverty. And he?</p> + +<p>He might be vain and trifling, but he was not sunk so +low in cowardice. His face flushed a vivid scarlet.</p> + +<p>"I am not quite prepared to become chargeable to a +woman yet," he said in a cold, calm voice.</p> + +<p>"What nonsense! Some man will marry her, and get +the money," Agatha retorted decisively.</p> + +<p>"Not much of hers;" in a dry, contemptuous tone.</p> + +<p>"You know what I mean. She will live in style, and +travel; and her husband"—</p> + +<p>"Will be the laughing-stock of his friends," interrupted +Fred angrily. "No, Agatha, I will be dependent upon +no one for my bread: if I cannot earn it I will starve."</p> + +<p>"Oh, very well!" with a scornful smile. "I only hope +Rene will be wiser. They are in Paris—I heard +from Gertrude last week. She was very much shocked, +of course. I hope George has not been foolish enough to +let every thing slip through his fingers. Who could have +believed that Horace Eastman would turn out such a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span> +swindler! Papa trusted him altogether too far. It does +not answer to be too noble and disinterested in this +world."</p> + +<p>Fred made no reply to this charming bit of worldly +wisdom. His delicate and high opinion of self had received +a crushing blow. Married off, out of hand, to save +him from poverty!</p> + +<p>Why should his thoughts turn to Sylvie at that moment? +Something stirred within him, an insane desire to win her—oh, +mad enough, surely! He could, he <i>would</i>, do something! +There was all his education and talent; yes, he +really had talent. He would make himself famous. She +should see that he had the right kind of stuff in him. He +would climb up the hard hill in his lonely, sorrowful, +proud way, until she, looking on, would come to repent +her unjust verdict!</p> + +<p>He shut himself up in his study, and made some very +fair translations from his beloved poets. There were better +ones, doubtless; and, after all, fame might not lie in +that direction. There was physical science, much in +vogue, and entertaining: no doubt he could do something +in that line. There were theories and speculations, there +were old philosophies—surely the ground was rich everywhere.</p> + +<p>It was very poor at Yerbury, though there were theories +enough. But, when you took them for temporal meat +and drink, they were not a fattening diet. Men lounged in +the streets and on the corners, or, worst of all, in saloons, +talking themselves angry and hoarse over the bad luck, +and blaming every one right and left. Women sat at +home, and cried over losses and crosses, cooked their +scanty dinners, and retired to bed early to save fuel. The +poorer ones went out to a day's washing, glad to get that. +Boys played cards, read dime-novels, and dreamed of +wonderful fortunes at the West: some few stout-hearted +chaps set out to seek them.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span></p> + +<p>There were panaceas. Mr. Rantley preached the rankest +communism and broadest free-thinking. Capital, i.e., +money, was the tyrant of the world, and always would be +until the laborers of the world rose up and claimed their +rights. Why should this man starve when the man over +yonder had his store-house full of flour that he was holding +for higher prices? What right had he, except the +might? So long as men were allowed to hoard up these +monstrous fortunes, they could control the market, and +would! What were the starving thousands to them? +What if half the provision in the country rotted on the +owner's hands? he could get as much or more money for +the other half. What if the miners were at work only a +small portion of time? could not the amount of coal be +managed more easily, and prices kept up? Capital desired +to keep production at the lowest ebb, because it could be +more conveniently mastered. The only remedy was to +give every man a chance, to break up these colossal fortunes, +to have no great mills and mines; to have smaller +capitalists, fewer hours of labor, to divide the immense +hoards among the poor and needy until there should be no +more want or suffering!</p> + +<p>The Rev. Mr. Bristow shook his head at this modern +anti-Christ. Every thing was anti-Christ, with Mr. Bristow, +that went outside of his own narrow creed. He +preached some stirring sermons. It was God's judgment +upon them for their sins. They had forgotten him, they +had been led away by false gods; they had made golden +calves, and worshipped them; their sons had strayed into +infidelity; their daughters had flaunted in gay attire, +with plaiting of the hair, and dancing away their immortal +souls; and now they must return to their God, to the +meat that perisheth not, to the bread of life, and to the +well of living water. There must be such a returning to +God, such a revival of religion, that the world would be +swept clear and clean out of its old sins!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Splendid sermon! splendid sermon!" said Deacon +Boyd, rubbing his hands together unctuously. "Parson's +hit the nail just on the head. We've all strayed out of +the way. I think a good old-fashioned revival'll set us +straight sooner'n any thing. Nothing like coming to the +Lord on the spot! This very week we ought to begin."</p> + +<p>"I think you're right, Deacon Boyd," said grave Mr. +Rising. "I, for one, will take hold of the work."</p> + +<p>They called the church together, and began. I will +not disparage the work. There were hungry souls that +seemed fed with spiritual food, aching hearts that were +bound up, reckless minds that paused on the verge of +desperation. But there were others who wondered, even +in the midst of the deacon's prayer, how it was that the +Lord warned him to draw his twenty thousand dollars out +of Yerbury Bank a week before the failure, when there +were only he and his wife to keep, and let poor Mrs. +Wharton with her five helpless children lose her husband's +life-insurance, her little all, by putting it in the bank just a +fortnight before the failure. Special providences, whereof +Deacon Boyd discoursed so eloquently, happened oftener +to the rich than to the poor.</p> + +<p>However, they prayed and fasted and repented. To +many, any strong emotion that took them out of the wearing +round of thought was a blessing.</p> + +<p>Jack Darcy, with a curious disbelief in every thing, +went the rounds, and dropped into Maverick's office to talk +it over. Sylvie was not home this winter: she and her +aunt spent it in Philadelphia. Then Jack grew dull and +restless. If the end of all things had come in Yerbury, +he ought to try some other place in the great world.</p> + +<p>It was settled presently quite by accident. A cousin +of Mrs. Darcy's, one of your strong, thorough, energetic +women, came to spend the winter with them; and Jack's +mother, watching the throes of her son's soul, a little +afraid of socialism, materialism, and all the other isms,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span> +proposed that Jack should take a journey West or South, +and have a glimpse of the men and things beyond this +narrow boundary.</p> + +<p>"Grandmother grows feebler all the time now; and, +being past ninety, we can't expect to keep her much +longer. Of course, Jack, when she is gone, I shall have +no tie but you; and, if it suited you to settle elsewhere, I +should not object. You are young and ambitious, and +I ought to think of your advancement. There never has +been a time since your poor father's death that you could +be so well spared;" yet the mother sighed. "And you +have been a good son, Jack: you have given up many a +wish cheerfully to two poor old women."</p> + +<p>"Don't call yourself an old woman," said Jack almost +gruffly, then he stooped to kiss her.</p> + +<p>His heart gave a great boyish bound.</p> + +<p>"Good-by, old Yerbury!" he cried exultantly one +morning, quite sure of a new, glad life elsewhere.</p> + +<p>"Though I shall be sorry to leave Sylvie and Maverick," +he thought. "These old towns do grind the very +soul out of a fellow who has any desire or energy in him. +The world isn't all alike, I know," giving his chestnut +mane a toss like a young, mettlesome colt.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER X.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">If</span> Jack Darcy had taken his tour for pure pleasure and +enjoyment, the time was ill chosen in every respect. Winter +was bad enough; but an unprosperous one, full of financial +clouds and storms, and scurrying drifts of distrust, +was not calculated to make the way brilliant.</p> + +<p>But he had one glorious enjoyment to begin with. He +went straight to Niagara, and took his first glimpse of it +in its awesome majesty of frost and ice. From that high +exaltation we call worship, through every intermediate degree +and sense of beauty, to that of a delicate and minute +fairy dream. The winter sun radiating glowing tints, +with skies of sapphire and opal, the great stretches of +wordless wonder, bound hand and foot like some old Norse +god amid his ice-fields; the one night when a full moon +silvered it with prismatic grandeur, and made of the glittering +ice-crystals entrances to diamond-mines of fabled +genii, touching him weirdly with this unearthly splendor; +and the next solemn day, when the very sky seemed +chilled to unfallen snow, and the ice-caverns turned a +dull blue, reminding him of descriptions of polar scenery, +and filling his soul with a sense of boundless solitude.</p> + +<p>Then he began his tour of the cities. He had taken +some books along, whether to perplex or make clear his +brains, he hardly knew. He pored over pages of Adam +Smith, he turned to Ruskin for comfort, he picked up +Brassey's figures and experience, and Stuart Mill's strong, +kindly reasoning, and digested them in his own slow, practical, +much-befogged way, trying to solve the problems.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span></p> + +<p>It was a great and wonderful world. Little Yerbury +had hardly any true idea what a mite she was, when one +looked at the immense labor-fields of the West and apparently +endless resources. Yet there was the same depression +out here. Shops and mills closed, for sale, and to let; +some running on three-quarter time, with half the number +of workmen, others going on at ruinous competition; +anxious, moody-eyed men walking the streets, or grouped +on corners, their coats and hats shabby, their beards untrimmed, +old boots and shoes with the heels tramped over +at one side, or a bit of stocking showing through the +leather. "No man hath hired us," said their despondent +faces plainer than any words. Young men and boys offering +to do any kind of work for any kind of pay, sleeping +in station-houses; relief-stores, church charities and soup-houses, +homes for the friendless, and all such places, filled +to overflowing, and new hordes crowding in every day.</p> + +<p>Yet there seemed to be no lack of money. It lay in +banks, it went begging for good security. Where was +there any good security? Every inch of ground, every +building, stocks and furniture, were covered by mortgages. +Stock companies trembled in the balance, and went down +like card-houses. Everybody wanted to sell every thing, +but there were no buyers. Everybody wanted to work, +but there was nothing to do. Everybody was in a chronic +state of grumbling; there was no profit to be made in +farming, in manufacturing, in any thing. There had been +too much over-production, for which every one blamed his +neighbor. The great warehouses were full of grain, the +mills loaded up with iron, the factories full of cloth and +flannels and cottons; and yet people were going hungry +and in rags. It was puzzling and painful. We had +bought too much abroad, and sent the money out of the +country, the balance of trade would make it all right +again; there had been over-production, and now there +must be a vigorous repression; there had been too much<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span> +speculation in real estate; there had been too great an +accumulation of capital in the business centres; we were +fast verging to the state of older countries, where there +were the few rich and the many poor: there was a surplus +of labor, and was there not also a surplus of people?</p> + +<p>There was another sad side to it all, that made Jack's +heart ache. These young men and boys tramping through +the country, begging or worse, swearing, telling foul stories, +herding together anywhere, corrupting one another's +morals, smoking, drinking,—somehow they managed to +obtain these indulgences,—looking furtively out of languid, +sodden eyes, their faces hard and worn, their voices +coarse and gruff; and they were to be the next generation +of what?—loyal and honest citizens, or jail-birds?</p> + +<p>It was not all so sombre. At five and twenty a healthy, +unwarped nature is many-sided. There were countless +marvels to see and to study. He stumbled over people +who had known Mr. Lawrence, and who had a kindly +feeling for a Hope Mills man. And he had done something +more in the last eight years than merely learn how +to make cloth. He had dipped into chemistry, and knew +a little about dyes; he had studied up in grades and kinds +of wool, and was interested in labor processes. With +fresh opportunities he looked into it more closely, observed +new methods of decreasing waste, or saving labor. +He was a well-informed, well-mannered, sensible fellow; +and occasionally some one would say of him, "A smart, +long-headed chap, that! The world will hear of him +some day, or I am mistaken."</p> + +<p>He kept looking about for some place where, if the +world did not hear of him, he might get a chance in +some enterprise where he could take a few steps upward. +There certainly were more men than places. The world +was a bee-hive, surely; but alas for those who swarmed +out in such times as these!</p> + +<p>After he had gone as far West as Minnesota, he went<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span> +down the Mississippi to a different kind of civilization in +the quaint old cities. It was none the less heart-sickening. +He found traces of the war, that we had almost +forgotten, fresh at every step; still it seemed as if the +hand of Nature was much more bounteous than at the +bleak North. Yet Bishop Heber's old missionary hymn +rang continually through his mind. Even amid the +Florida orange-groves, and the great cotton-fields, some +cause brought about baleful results, in the unwisdom of +man.</p> + +<p>Then to the cities of luxury and thrift, where wealth +was strong enough to crowd poverty out one side, where +art and music and cultivation made a subtile atmosphere +that somehow recalled the Lawrences. He lingered and +quaffed delightsome draughts, and at last tore himself +away from seductive sights and sounds. In a dim, half-defined +way the delights came to him. Would he ever +be stoic enough to spurn them?</p> + +<p>Last of all, home with its sweet welcomes, its cleanliness +and order, its familiar furniture and cheerful fires, +its easy-chairs and quaint fragrant air, as if every thing +had lain in dried rose-leaves; the mother love and tears, +the smiles out of dimmer eyes, and cousin Jane Morgan's +hearty greeting; to say nothing of his delicious +supper and his own bed, where sleep seemed awaiting +him with open arms.</p> + +<p>His mother had written a good deal of Yerbury gossip +to him, but it had been mostly of the pleasant order. +When he dropped into Maverick's office the next day, +and was welcomed so heartily that it was like a brother's +greeting, he listened to the other side. Affairs were +worse than ever. The bank had gone into liquidation, +and would pay about forty per cent. Property mortgages +had been foreclosed right and left; there was nothing, +scarcely, doing; there had been want and misery and +sickness, and now diphtheria was raging.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span></p> + +<p>"So you see the revival didn't do every thing," said +Maverick grimly. "I'm of the opinion, if some of them +had preached less, and distributed bread and broth with a +freer hand, it would have been more of a good work. +The praying would be well enough in its place, and, for +those old fellows who pray on a full stomach, very enjoyable, +I dare say. But I'd like them to look after their +drains and their wells and their cisterns before they ask +the Almighty to sanctify these afflictions to the poor +wretches who suffer from them. And now, Jack Darcy, +what are you going to do? Have you found better pastures?" +and Maverick glanced up with curious inquiry.</p> + +<p>"No," replied Jack, rather reluctantly it must be confessed. +It seemed to him now that he had been spending +his time for nought, unless pleasure counted, and he felt +a trifle ashamed of it.</p> + +<p>Maverick gave an odd little laugh that puzzled the +other.</p> + +<p>"See here, Maverick," began Jack in such earnest +that he blushed like a great boy, "I haven't found any +new place for myself. The world seems just full and +running over. The great cities have their own men out +of employment, and hordes from every other place. I'd +be almost ashamed to ask for a job. I declare, I'd rather +raise as much of my living as I could in our back garden, +or take Perley's farm, and put it together, and set men +raising strawberries, than tramp round, asking for work, +with a feeling that it was taken from some one who had +a better right, who was a native of the soil."</p> + +<p>"Then you have not lost your conscience?"</p> + +<p>"I hope not. It is the same old story everywhere. +What is to be done about it?" and Jack knit his brows. +"I have been going over the books that I thought would +help or let in a little light on the matter, but it is a wisdom +hard to get at. How to make more work in the +world, how to cheapen living, how to"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span>—</p> + +<p>"Bring about the millennium! What dead earnest you +are in, Darcy!"</p> + +<p>"Weren't you in earnest a moment ago, Maverick, +when you talked about the praying and the bread and +broth?" said Jack with a great knot drawn in his brow.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Heaven knows. And some one must take hold +of the thing who has eyes to see, and brains, and—and +money. You see, people have crowded into cities and +towns, and if they could be sent out somewhere! Why +don't we organize colonies or something of the sort? +Now, there's Florida. Living is cheap, and in such a +climate there are fewer needs of clothing and fuel. I +have been wondering why the big dons in cities did not +gather up the poor they have been feeding at soup-houses +and everywhere, and send them out with some one to +manage until they could stand alone. There would be +less diphtherias and fevers and starvation; for that's its +right name, Darcy. What can you do when one's system +is all run out with meal-mush, and weak tea that is +half willow-leaves, and such trash? There's Kilburn—he +has had the name of being good to the poor this winter +because he has given them trust at his store. Such stuff! +I have looked into a few samples," and the expressive +nostrils curled in disgust. "He makes an enormous +profit, for he sells the poorest kind of goods to these people +at the highest prices. Then he manages to get hold +of something, house or furniture, or maybe clothes,—I +don't know. He and Deacon Boyd—Darcy, how can a +man honor religion when these two men are its exponents? +So good to the poor! Pah! It makes me sick. +Isn't there a cleaner air somewhere on God's earth? +Can't they be taken out of this?"</p> + +<p>"If they could be! There must be one way out, Maverick: +better, perhaps, than going West where thousands +are tramping about. And Heaven knows they need a +new factor in civilization down there!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span></p> + +<p>The young eyes met in sudden hopeful animation. Had +they solved even one strand of the great tangle, that +worse than Gordian knot which could not be cut?</p> + +<p>The door opened slowly; and there entered a middle-aged, +rather grizzled man, with shaggy eyebrows, sparse +beard, and bent shoulders. He glanced in hesitatingly, +his eyes wandering down to Darcy.</p> + +<p>"I declare to man!" and he stared hard, with the +door-knob still in his hand. "Jack Darcy! I heard +you were home. How d'y do? How d'y do?" and he +wrung the hand warmly. "I'm powerful glad to see +you," and he looked him slowly over, from head to foot. +"Why, you've grown, or something! What a great giant +you are!—Morning, doctor," nodding rather incidentally +to Maverick. "So you've had a long tramp, Jack? +Your mother brought some of the letters over to my old +lady, who has been rather poorly the last two months. +Why, you could set up book-writing! Well, what's the +good word? Can't be like Yerbury all over."</p> + +<p>"There are too many towns full of idle people, if that +is what you mean. But it was splendid, Cameron! I +have one more dream,—to go up and down the Western +coast, and over the Rocky Mountains; but I want to +digest this first. I have no fancy for mental dyspepsia," +and he gave a good, wholesome laugh.</p> + +<p>"The right way, Jack," nodded Maverick, with a +shrewd twinkle in his eye.</p> + +<p>"Well, you've come back to a dull place,—a dull +place," and Cameron shook his head despondingly. +"We used to be main proud of old Yerbury; but—is +the whole world to go on and starve to death, with such +crops, and such an abundance of every thing?"</p> + +<p>"We are going to weather it through, Cameron," Jack +answered with a stubborn hopefulness. "There have +been hard times before that have ended in renewed prosperity."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes. There was '57; hard enough, Heaven knows, +with the banks going to smash everywhere. It ruined +my father. And way back in '37, when there was such +a wild-fire about real estate, and it came out just as this +has. Do people ever learn by experience, Maverick?" +and the man gave a short, unmirthful chuckle. "You +could buy up half Yerbury to-day, for taxes and mortgages. +I can't, for the life of me, see how it all came +about. And that it has gone all over the world,—well, +human nature in England or Germany can't well laugh at +human nature in this country.—Are these things like +cholera and fevers, doctor, taking a clean sweep once in +a while?" and Cameron gave a twist to the end of his +faded beard, as if he might wring the secret out of it.</p> + +<p>"We have learned to manage the cholera, and see in +it, not a dispensation of Providence, but the natural +result of filth and greed and carelessness. Darcy and I +are getting up a panacea now," with a bright little laugh. +"But how is Mrs. Cameron? Is her medicine out?"</p> + +<p>"Yes;" and Cameron drew a phial from his pocket. +"You don't think it would do to stop here? She's pretty +well, I should say;" and he fingered the bottle as if he +were debating whether to have it filled or not.</p> + +<p>"No. She must go on. She is getting her strength +back nicely; but it's bad policy to stop at three-quarters +of the race,—eh, Cameron? The first warm day I'll +take her out driving."</p> + +<p>While he was talking, he reached out for the bottle, and +began compounding. Cameron nodded an acknowledgment +of the last sentence, then turning to Jack, said +abruptly,—</p> + +<p>"What was the scheme, Darcy?"</p> + +<p>Jack flushed, and glanced at Maverick.</p> + +<p>"Emigration, the old remedy," answered the doctor. +"England has tried her hand at it pretty successfully; so +why shouldn't we? Only we need not go out of our own<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span> +country. There are thousands of acres of productive +land lying idle, and thousands of people starving, or +worse. Too many here,—not enough there."</p> + +<p>"Where to?" Cameron asked laconically, his face +unmoved by any ripple of enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>Jack seemed to be put on his mettle by it. Lack of +faith in him always roused his belligerent qualities, back +in the old school days.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Cameron," in an incisive tone, looking steadily +out of his determined eyes. "The cities are crowded +over and over, and full of tramps, and the West swarms +with them. We need not imagine we have all the idle +people here at the East. But farming there has come to +be a business of great things, almost as bad as manufacturing. +You must have money, or the big fellows will +swallow you up. But we were talking of Florida. No +winter, as one may say; and your house a simple matter, +your fuel, your clothes, a mere nothing. You could +hardly starve if you tried."</p> + +<p>Cameron came back to his chair, pushed it out from +the wall, planted himself deliberately in it, and tilted +back, pushing up his old felt hat, as if he did not mean +to have his vision obstructed. Then he gave his beard +another twist.</p> + +<p>"Can you tell me why this is, Jack Darcy? Here are +countries with fine and lovely climates, where every thing +grows to your hand; yet they always seem to lie idle: +Italy and Spain and Turkey and South America, and our +own Gardens of Eden," with a bit of sarcastic smile. +"The very ease of living seems to take the ambition out +of one. Well, why shouldn't it? Even the bees, you +know, were demoralized when they found they did not +have to lay up for winter. Wouldn't those people come +to be worse tramps and idlers? I'm sure the poor white +trash of the South has helped itself very little."</p> + +<p>"We were talking of concerted effort," interposed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span> +Maverick,—"purchasing a large tract of land, forming +a community, taking different kinds of workmen, and +making a success of it. Why should we not have flourishing +towns in Florida, as well as in Kansas?"</p> + +<p>"To be sure, to be sure!" nodding his head and tugging +at his beard in a manner that showed he was not a +whit convinced. "Then you give up," he said, "that +any thing can be done at home?"</p> + +<p>"Any thing done at home?" Jack lifted his level +brows, and stared a little.</p> + +<p>"Yes. The going away may all be very well. I tried +it in '57; went out to Indiana with a little money, and +tried farming that I didn't know any thing about, had the +ague six months, and then came back poorer certainly. +Now, the thing is just here with a good many of us,—we +have our little homes, and in such times as these, in any +hard times, we couldn't sell for any thing worth while. +Then there's many a thing, to a man or a woman past middle +life, that can't be reckoned in dollars and cents: the +home you've made for yourself, the old friends, the church, +even the familiar street you've walked over so often that +every flagstone comes to have a near look."</p> + +<p>"But those who have no homes, no strong interests"—</p> + +<p>"If I was going to found a colony, I should want a +little better stock," with a short, dry laugh.</p> + +<p>"May be you have a plan?" suggested Maverick good-naturedly.</p> + +<p>"Well, I've thought it over a good deal this winter, +sitting in the house with the old lady;" and there came a +peculiar far-off look in Cameron's eye as he studied a +figure in the carpet. "If God worked miracles nowadays, +and was to make a dozen or so honest men with a good, +stout share of brains, there might be a little lifting-up +of the dull skies. Take this town, leaving out politics +and all that sort. Five years ago we were prosperous, +and there wasn't a prettier town anywhere about. Good<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span> +wages were paid, people were thrifty; and I will say it +for David Lawrence, if he was one of your high kind, +he was a gentleman. I've worked for him fifteen years +steady. Then the Eastmans came in, and there was +nothing but hurry and drive, grumbling about high wages, +buying cheap wools, and if cloth was poor, blaming the +men. Then wages went down and down, and, when the +men stood out, the scum of all the places around was +brought in. Yerbury improved, and beer-saloons multiplied. +Houses were thrown together and sold; and now +they're all falling apart, and standing empty, and half a +dozen families are crowding into one miserable tenement. +Who made the money? Was it high wages that ruined +Hope Mills, and wrecked Yerbury Bank?"</p> + +<p>"You have hit the truth somewhere, Cameron."</p> + +<p>"Those men were thieves and swindlers; and I suppose +to-day they're living on the fat of the land, milk and +honey thrown in. See here, I'm not an educated man, +but I have a little common sense. Suppose we'd been let +to go our ways quiet like,—the farmers holding on to +their farms, and making two blades of grass grow where +one grew before. Wasn't that some old philosopher's +advice? Suppose David Lawrence hadn't built that great +palace out on Hope Terrace (he was a plainish man himself), +and there had been five or six beside him making a +moderate share of money. He's lost all his great fortune, +there's seventy thousand or so gone somewhere, the +bank has smashed with thousands more of everybody's +money, with nothing much to show but trumpery mortgages; +there's no work and no money, and a howl goes +up that there has been over-production. Not over-production +of honesty, I take it."</p> + +<p>Maverick looked at the little earnest man, and laughed +a hearty, cheering sort of laugh that was like pouring oil +into a wound. Jack stared with wide-open eyes.</p> + +<p>"I've been to hear Rantley two or three times,—he's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span> +going about lecturing, you know,—but I don't see as he +has any very good plan for getting work on its legs again. +Then I've listened to the parson this winter, to please the +old lady; and he is sure all this is a judgment for our sins. +Seems to me, judgment went a little askew: why doesn't +it touch Eastman and such fellows?"</p> + +<p>"Has nothing been done?" asked Jack. "I have +heard no business gossip for the last three months. Can't +it be proved that he was a defaulter?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps it could. The old lady was reading the other +morning about the scapegoat being sent into the wilderness +with everybody's sins on his head; and I guess they'd +rather have <i>him</i> off somewhere, and pack the trouble on +him. He might tell too much if he was here. They +couldn't get the money back, even if he has it; but no one +ever will believe that David Lawrence profited by it. +That money belongs to the people of Yerbury, who have +earned it, and saved it; and I say thieving and roguery +have more to do with hard times than 'surplus of labor.' +The big men have taken the money that belonged to the +little ones."</p> + +<p>"None of the Lawrence estate has been settled, I suppose?" +asked Jack.</p> + +<p>"Every thing is for sale. The mortgage on the big +house is to be foreclosed, also on the mill I believe. I +declare to you, Darcy, it makes my heart ache to see those +dumb spindles, and the great silent engine standing like a +mourner at a funeral. Come now, why should Hope Mills +go to ruin, and Yerbury fall to pieces, while you and Maverick +go and build up Florida? Wouldn't the money and +the energy do something here?"</p> + +<p>Cameron's eyes looked out of their overhanging thatch +with a puzzled, thoughtful expression, as if there must be +a solution to the mystery.</p> + +<p>Jack was startled. Building up Florida looked feasible, +but building up Yerbury<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span>—</p> + +<p>"Then you will not go with us?" said Maverick with a half-laugh.</p> + +<p>"I've my little home clear of debt, and a trifle at interest; +and over in Yerbury churchyard there are two graves +dear to me and my old lady. It would break her heart to +leave them. And sometimes, Maverick, I thank God, +that I've no sons to grow up tramps or worse. No, I'll +stay here, and fight through somehow."</p> + +<p>They were silent for several minutes, each one tugging +at the knotty problem. Then Cameron rose, reached out +for the phial of medicine, drove his slouch-hat down over +his forehead, and walked toward the door.</p> + +<p>"Drop in and see us, Jack, after you have thought it +over a bit. Mother's always had a warm corner in her +heart for you.—Morning, doctor;" and, nodding, he +closed the door behind him.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XI.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Jack</span> and Maverick glanced at each other, a long, +searching, questioning glance.</p> + +<p>"Given twenty or forty moderate fortunes, instead of +the one great one," said Jack slowly.</p> + +<p>"And you have a greater amount of general prosperity +and happiness."</p> + +<p>"Co-operation," continued Jack.</p> + +<p>"And now, if you don't mind, you may take a walk +with me," said Maverick. "Office-hours are over, and +I have some rather serious cases on hand. Jerry's gone +lame, stuck a nail in his foot, so I console myself with +pedestrian theories."</p> + +<p>"All right. I may need a pilot."</p> + +<p>It was a mid-April day; but spring was late, and every +thing looked bleak to Jack after his Southern sojourn. +Certainly it was quite different from the trim little town +of Jack's boyhood. The blight of poverty and thriftlessness +had fallen upon it. There were piles of refuse +in the streets, still half frozen; there were muddy stoops +and shabby hall-doors, and broken area-palings, and now +and then a window patched up with paper or rags. For +though there may be much high theorizing and preaching +on the two or three exceptional men who have lifted +themselves out of dens of poverty, and come through +great tribulation, there are thousands who work out +nothing but blind destruction and utter shipwreck, and +who in frantic efforts for salvation drag down those<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span> +nearest and dearest, as a drowning man may clutch at +his own brother.</p> + +<p>"Not very inviting," apologized Maverick; "but I +have two calls to make here in Boyd's Row,—old rookeries +that ought to have been pulled down long ago, but +I suppose they still bring in Boyd considerable. I have +made a complaint about the drains: they are enough to +breed a pestilence. Tom Byrne has three children down +with scarlet-fever. Two of them will be carried out +presently, but I hope to save the little girl. No—I +won't take you in."</p> + +<p>"Tom Byrne—he was a mill-hand. And I know his +wife well. Yes, Maverick." And Jack followed him.</p> + +<p>It was a two-story cottage with three rooms on a +floor, and two families occupying it. The Byrnes were +up-stairs.</p> + +<p>The two beds were in the front room, for the middle +one was dark. There was a well-worn carpet on the +floor, and the furniture very poor. Jenny Byrne had +sold her best to pay the quarter's rent in the last place +which they had left the first of January, the landlord +preferring it should stand empty. Her little savings had +been swept away by the bank disaster: there was no +work, and three children to feed, except that Deacon +Boyd found Tom sufficient employment to pay his rent.</p> + +<p>On one bed close by the window lay the little girl, +heavy-eyed and crimson. The elder boy had come to the +stupor that precedes death, the other was restless with a +half delirium. Jenny Byrne's round rosy cheeks had +vanished, and her eyes had a distraught look, the lurking +fear of coming woe. She stared at Jack a moment, +then stretched out her hand, but as quickly withdrew it.</p> + +<p>"Did you tell him, doctor? O Mr. Darcy!"</p> + +<p>"Yes. He <i>would</i> come."</p> + +<p>She wiped away some tears with the corner of her faded +apron, then answered a question of Jack's. What could<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span> +he say to the poor thing? Surely she had done her duty +with truest endeavor; and Tom Byrne was a very fair +average man, liking his daily glass of beer, but rarely +going farther.</p> + +<p>"Can you fix a bed in the other room, and put Kitty +in it?" the doctor asked. "She is better, but I would +rather have her out of here."</p> + +<p>"And Jamie is better too?" she questioned, with +tremulous eagerness. "His fever is nearly gone, and +he's having such a nice sleep"—</p> + +<p>"Sleep is the best thing for him," returned the doctor +briefly. "About Kitty"—</p> + +<p>The mother's wan face flushed. She came close to Dr. +Maverick, her eyes downcast.</p> + +<p>"The coal gave out this morning, and I've no fire +there," she said just above a whisper. "The relief-store +is closed"—</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes; I'll see to it;" with a nod. "I will be in +again"—looking at the sleeping child—"say about +four." Then he changed the medicine for Kitty, and +gave one or two orders.</p> + +<p>Jack thrust a bank-note in Jenny's hand, with his +good-by. "Tom will be so glad to see you, Mr. Darcy," +she said, with an effort at calmness.</p> + +<p>"Can nothing be done for them?" asked Jack, as they +regained the street.</p> + +<p>"No. Jamie had gone too far when I was called in. +Larger rooms, fresher air, nourishing food: that's the +secret of a physician's success in many cases. Poor +little ones! He will not go through the night. Now, +Jack, you are not to come in here, positively. Stand +in this breeze, and blow the scarlet-fever out of your +clothes."</p> + +<p>He did as he was bid, and, getting tired, tramped up +and down. How much of man's selfishness and dishonesty +there was in this! If the time could ever come<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span> +when the mists and fogs of complacency would be swept +off, and we could see that it was the innocent suffering +for the guilty, not that these poor souls were sinners +above all men, as the self-righteous Pharisee preaches!</p> + +<p>Maverick rejoined him with a grave face, then the two +went down Main Street. Houses to let, stores and shops +closed, and those open but half-stocked, and wearing a +listless air. If three hard years so told on the place, and +there was no prospect of better things, what would it be +in five or ten? Was it some such misfortune that had +overtaken those grand and luxurious cities of Oriental +lands?</p> + +<p>"Where are the Lawrences?" Jack asked presently.</p> + +<p>"Well, I really do not know. I think I did hear that +Mrs. Lawrence had gone to New York. The young +man"—</p> + +<p>Jack held his breath, and there was a strange flutter +at his heart. After all these years he saw again the +pale, handsome child who had given him a boy's ardent +love.</p> + +<p>"I have a fancy that he will not amount to much. +Queer idea that of Cameron's, wasn't it, Darcy? Who +was it that first preached or wrote of the 'duty nearest +one'? Of course things cannot stay this way forever, +they must mend; and maybe if some one took hold to +help mend them—Cameron's idea is not a bad one. +Maybe the same amount of money and energy expended +here would be productive of good results: still I hold on +to Florida for my poor and wretched suffering ones. But +it is worth thinking of. Here, let us turn round by Hope +Mills."</p> + +<p>Jack was silent. "Hope Mills!" It rang through +his brain like a chime of bells. Of course he knew that +Mr. Hope had given them his name; but had he builded +better than he knew? Was it indicative of something +greater than the power of one man,—of many men? of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span> +strong, earnest endeavor; of truth, honor, and honesty; +of thrift, and happy, jocund industry, once more?</p> + +<p>But now it was very silent. The great yard had an +untidy look, with some piles of weather-beaten lumber, +and old <i>débris</i>. The windows were covered with dust; +the broad stone steps showed where the winter snows had +fallen and melted, leaving streaks of dirt, and more had +blown in the corners. No cheerful creak of the great +engine; no vapory puffs of smoke circling skyward from +the chimney; no whir of looms. It saddened one inexpressibly.</p> + +<p>"It is a big subject," said Jack slowly. "I've been +puzzling my brains half the winter with what wiser heads +than mine have said about capital and labor,—Mill and +Brassey and Howell, and our own men, with soft, sweet +bits of Ruskin, and savage bits of Carlyle. I don't know +but Carlyle was right when he said, 'The beginning and +the end of what is the matter with us, in these days, is, that +we have forgotten God.' Cameron said it another way,—honor +and honesty. Because, certainly, honor appeals +to all that is noblest in human nature,—to chivalry, and +tenderness and thought for others; and nothing ever prospered, +in the long-run, that did not have a substratum of +truth."</p> + +<p>"Well, according to Bristow, we came back to him this +winter—not I, Darcy, I don't make any pretence,"—and +he shook his head with slow gravity. "But I was +interested in the revival on psychological grounds. I had +never been so inside of one before. Bristow is a good +man, no doubt; but it is just the one chosen way with +him,—strong crying and praying, and believing yourself +a sinner above all men, and then a sudden peace and +happiness, and a courage to endure,—a blind, unreasoning +courage to take the present as it is, because God sent +it, and it must be for the best. Boyd and Whitlow and +Kenny were the great lights. They went about from house<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span> +to house; they exhorted and prayed. Whitlow was one +of the old bank-directors. Strange to say, he did not +lose a penny. His money was in government-bonds; and +now he has persuaded Yerbury that if his advice had been +taken there would have been no trouble. Whitlow discharged +his man this winter, and took in his place a half-grown +boy. Mrs. Whitlow sets a good example to her +class by discharging one handmaid and making the other +do double duty. Yet, so far as I can find, Whitlow is a +richer man than he was three years ago. Kenny keeps +his factory open, and gives the men three days' work in +the week, and pays them in poor shoes, as much as possible; +and takes out a good deal in high rent. Boyd, who +has the name of being the greatest saint of all,—does +what? Opens that miserable row of houses, that he +couldn't let on any terms, and takes in tenants who are +willing to work out the rent. He gets good prices, too. +Is he losing on them? Faugh! the very term of charity +makes me sick. And this winter he purchased a good deal +of the stock of the relief-store. Wretched flour; miserable, +adulterated stuff of tea; pork, some of it that wasn't +fit to eat; and cheap butter, that every one would have +been ten times better without. I went to him one day, +red-hot, in a sanitary view of the business; and he +preached religion to me,—his kind. 'Boyd,' said I, +'there's Keppler's saloon, your own property, paying you +a good income, no doubt, in these hard times, adding to +the want and misery of Yerbury faster than your whole +church can save. If you are in earnest, go break up that +den of iniquity!'"</p> + +<p>Jack laughed. "What did he say to that?"</p> + +<p>"Meekly, that Keppler had a lease for five years, and +was going on the second. The man is so honorable, he +cannot break faith with his fellow-man, forsooth; but he +breaks faith with God, in a serene, untroubled manner." +And Maverick's lip curled scornfully under the fringe of +moustache.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But there must be some gold, or the counterfeit would +not be so successfully received. We have had so much +false money everywhere, that, since we can make that +pass, we do not trouble ourselves. And yet, Maverick, +there <i>is</i> something in it that you and I don't see clearly +yet; but we cannot teach it acceptably until we can show +better fruit. And, when leaders of all kinds, in high +places, show that self only is at the bottom of every +thing they do, it seems hopeless to demand that the class +below, watching them, and suffering from their wrongdoing, +shall attain a higher moral status. How can they +help following coarsely in the footsteps of their betters?"</p> + +<p>"Darcy, suppose you turn parson!" and Maverick +laughed half quizzically. "See here: the world wants a +very old sermon preached again to it, hammered into +every fibre, put up over every doorway,—the essence +of all knowledge, all religion, briefly comprehended in +this, 'Love thy neighbor <i>as</i> thyself.' You won't need +gown or bands for that work. Not to have one code of +morals for the rich, and one for the poor; one creed for +Sunday, and quite another belief for Monday; to have no +lofty, impossible theories and exalted moods, but truthful, +honest living; not to push away the miserable, ignorant +souls, but take them by the hand in hearty co-operation. +Maybe Cameron has the right clew. Why should we +let human love be shamed by such things as an Oneida +community or a Mormon city?"</p> + +<p>The strong, earnest voice stirred Jack like martial +music. All these years he had been struggling with a +great, blind, confused something,—perhaps it was not a +silver-mine or a railroad, but a work just here in the town +of his boyhood, where he was known, where he had played +and worked.</p> + +<p>"Seventeenthly, and lastly," and Maverick looked at +his watch, "I cannot idle any more time upon you, and +must cut short with a 'To be continued.' We will talk it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span> +over again and again; and, if we cannot get it into shape, +there is still Florida left. So, while you are dreaming it +out by this great silent mill, whose prisoned spirits should +prate of prosperity instead of desolation, I'll run my +course around Yerbury, and we'll compare notes over our +cigars. <i>Addio</i>," waving his hand.</p> + +<p>Jack watched the compact figure as it moved briskly +away; then he sauntered round the mill, down one street +and up another, strolled out to Lovers' Lane, and returned +by Larch Avenue. The Barry house began to show signs +of life, for old Mat was clearing up the grounds. This +was the one oasis that had not been bitten by speculation. +He thought of winsome little Sylvie, and one summer +evening when Irene Lawrence stepped into that pretty, +cosey room with the grace and beauty of a Juno. Where +was she now? And what was Fred doing? Making a +great leap into name and fame, doubtless, now that he was +put upon his mettle. The old boyish freaks came back to +his mind, the enthusiastic unreasoning adoration, the last +tender parting. An intense and subtile sympathy filled +his soul; and, though he smiled a little, the memory was +very sacred.</p> + +<p>The texture of Jack's mind was not of the quick, brilliant, +or sanguine order. He went over his books again; +he ruminated as he cleaned the garden-paths, spaded the +beds, trimmed the trees and shrubbery, and attended to +the odds and ends known only to a careful householder. +Cousin Jane was in her element out here; and they two +discoursed of farming and gardening, and industry, she +in a sharp, trenchant way.</p> + +<p>She had remarked incidentally that her visit was near +its end. Now that Jack was home, cousin Ellen would +not need her.</p> + +<p>"I don't see why you should not make your home here, +cousin Jane," replied Mrs. Darcy. "Grandmother grows +feebler all the time, and you have quite spoiled me by<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span> +your strength and cheeriness. You have no nearer tie; +and if you <i>could</i> content yourself with us—Jack was +speaking about it a few evenings since. We should like +so to keep you, cousin Jane."</p> + +<p>Jane Morgan studied the beseeching eyes a while, then +dropped her own, and thought.</p> + +<p>"Very well," she answered, "if you like to have it so. +While I am well and strong I think I ought to do enough +somewhere to earn my living, and not use up the little laid +by for a rainy day. If you and Jack are agreed, we'll +consider it a bargain for a year. I like to be settled about +what I'm going to do: there's nothing so uncomfortable +as hanging on tenterhooks. When my visit's through I +like to go, if I'm going; not stand an hour or two with the +door-knob in my hand."</p> + +<p>Jack was delighted. They could spare him now and +then of an evening to stroll down to Maverick's office, +where they discussed pretty nearly every thing under the +sun. It was so in the beginning,—"the earth was without +form, and void." Then the Barrys returned; Sylvie +changed in some indescribable way as to a kind of delicate +outside manner, but the same fresh, earnest girl in +heart and soul, taking up her friendship with Jack just +where she had laid it down. Yet they had both grown +broader and richer in nature and experience, and there +was something of the subtile flavor of new acquaintanceship.</p> + +<p>Yerbury cleaned house, even to the tidying-up of streets +and carting-away of rubbish. It was pitiful to see the +attempts of some of the poor women, who washed their +worn white curtains, scrubbed the shutters and hall-door, +and set out a few ragged geraniums in the front yard, or +made a little bed of lettuce and onions.</p> + +<p>Yerbury Savings Bank was in the hands of a receiver. +Some sold out their small accounts for a trifle: it was +agreed there could not be much in the way of dividends.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span> +Here was a great mortgage on the Downer farm, that the +Eastmans had partly cut into city lots. And, though +Downer had received a large price, he was a poor man +to-day, with no business, and several sons tramping the +highways for work. Farms had not been profitable, but +had the wealth and extravagance produced any better result? +These places around would be sold presently for +any sum they would bring.</p> + +<p>"Speculation did look so tempting, though," said Jack +with a humorous smile. "But for grandmother I might +have been in the midst of it."</p> + +<p>"There's just one thing that makes a man or a country +rich," said Jane Morgan incisively; "and that's industry, +good, honest labor. Marking up one's goods before +breakfast, as the Frenchman did, realizes no absolute +money. The speculators jingle their dollars from hand to +hand, until some poor fool, attracted by the noise, gives +them a hundred for their twenty. When a man makes +money simply by another person's loss, he has not created +any thing, or made any more of it; and the world's no +better, that I can see."</p> + +<p>"Cousin Jane, you are dipping into political economy;" +and Jack nodded gayly. "I shall have to ask +Maverick and some of the others up here; and maybe +you can put in a straw, or a head of wheat, toward the +regeneration of Yerbury."</p> + +<p>"I dip into a little common sense now and then, and it +seems to me that's what the world needs. There is no +lack of the uncommon kind, and it's not to be altogether +despised, since at times uncommon things are given to +people to do. But, if all the bees in the hive thought they +had a call to be queens, it runs in my mind there'd be a +lack of honey presently."</p> + +<p>"You are on the right foundation, cousin Jane. We +must not only make the honey an honorable thing, but +honor the bees, put labor on a better, truer foundation."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I should just say, 'See here, my friends, it is not +possible for us all to be rich, whether it is some fixed immutable +law of fate, or the lack of necessary elements in +one's character, or the meeting of the right person with the +right circumstances; but the fact is there, true as judgment. +You can be comfortable and clean if you have the +energy; and it is better to scrub your own kitchen-floor, or +raise a bushel of potatoes, than to sit and whine about +luck or respectability. Now and then a ready-made fortune +drops down upon one, and I don't know but it often +brings a curse: anyhow, what you work for, you are pretty +sure to enjoy.' It makes me mad when I see healthy, +hearty young women sighing for servants and pianos and +what not; when their grandmothers, who had as good +blood, and as good sense, didn't despise honest work."</p> + +<p>Sylvie Barry came in while Miss Morgan was in the +midst of her "speech," as Jack declared it to be; and +now she clapped her small white hands, with a "Bravo!"</p> + +<p>"A new disciple, Jack," and she smiled. "Miss +Morgan, we shall set you to reading our favorite authors, +and solving the tremendous question. Where can we get +work for these to do? For a great many stand idle in +the market-place, because they have not been hired. +What can we set them at?"</p> + +<p>"Well, Miss Barry, I don't know much about the big, +outside questions; but, going around Yerbury a little this +winter, I shouldn't say the work was all done up; or, +done in such a poor, thrown-together way, that it tumbles +right to pieces again. There's skewy, ill-made beds with +ragged counterpanes; there's shreds of old ingrain-carpets, +that you fall over; there's broken chairs, and shabby +clothes, and dirty corners,—work enough, I should say, +to last some woman an hour or two. She might get out +her pieces of calico, and, with the children's help, make a +new spread, maybe a tidy apron, and she might braid a +rag mat out of bits, and a hundred things that go toward<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span> +comfort. No: all the work isn't done up yet, Miss +Sylvie," and Jane Morgan stopped just then, to knit the +seam-stitch in a stocking for a poor body.</p> + +<p>Sylvie threw herself on the footstool, and leaned her +arms on Miss Morgan's knee.</p> + +<p>"I wasn't thinking so much of that when I spoke," +she began earnestly; "but I do wonder if some of us +couldn't take it up. There are art-schools, and music-schools, +and cooking-schools, in the great cities; and why +couldn't we start something of the kind here? Poor +people—the real poor, I mean—are often wasteful and +idle because they do not just know how to be any thing +else. They buy cheap garments in stores, and they soon +come apart. I had a sewing-school last summer, and I +found some mothers didn't seem to care whether their +children learned or not,—since there was so much sewing +done by machines. But if the mothers could be taught a +little"—</p> + +<p>"That's about the upshot of what I said. You see, +Miss Barry, people have been earning so much money of +late years, that sewing has gone out of fashion. It didn't +pay to do this or that, so they earned and spent. Now +they sit listless in their dirt and rags, bemoaning hard +times. It is good to know how to do more than one +thing," and Miss Morgan nodded her head confidently, +her strong face full of earnestness.</p> + +<p>"Why can't you and Sylvie start a school—what +shall we call it?—of useful and homely arts? You see, +the girls do work in the mills and shops until they get +married, and then they do not know how to make the +best of their husbands' money. But don't crowd out all +the beauty and the pleasure; there must be something to +enlist the heart. Give a man an interest in a thing, and +you awake a new feeling, an enthusiasm that makes +every thing go as smoothly as oiling up machinery."</p> + +<p>"I have often thought," said Mrs. Darcy in her soft,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span> +gentle voice, "that the poor did not get as much good of +their money as the better classes, because they never have +enough to buy advantageously, and store-keepers so often +take the advantage of them. Now, yesterday I was over +to Mrs. Hall's, and the poor thing was trying to make +some bread, and she was not fit to stand up and knead it; +so I thought I'd try. The flour was heavy and sticky +and lumpy, and what I should call very unprofitable. +No one could make good bread out of it. She said they +traded at Kilburn's, because he would wait if they did +not have the money. The flour was seven and a half a +barrel; the eighth, ninety-five cents; and I do not believe +the bread was fit to eat. So you must remember, +when you blame people for poor cooking, that they may +not always have decent materials to work with."</p> + +<p>"Maverick was growling about Kilburn the other evening. +It is a shame that he should sell such poor goods, +when prices have come down a good deal."</p> + +<p>"Can you not reform him a little?" and Mrs. Darcy +smiled.</p> + +<p>"Cousin Jane and Sylvie might go into business, as +did the poor weavers of Toad Lane, with their sack of +oatmeal, firkin of butter, a little sugar and flour," said +Jack laughingly. "A fair division of labor. The men +of Yerbury shall provide work, and the women shall train +the inefficient how and where to spend money."</p> + +<p>Sylvie glanced up with bright, inquiring eyes.</p> + +<p>"Was it some more co-operation?" she asked.</p> + +<p>Jack brought out his book, and read the story of the +"Equitable Pioneers of Rochdale" and their wonderful success +from a small beginning. The girl listened with wide-open +eyes, and even Jane Morgan laid down her knitting.</p> + +<p>"The queen-bee and the workers again," said she, as +Jack closed the book. "It is not every man for himself, +but every man for each other. And it comes back, +always."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XII.</h2> + + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Where</span> is grandmother?" Jack asked one morning +late in May, as he came in from the garden, and found +her place at the table vacant.</p> + +<p>"She does not feel very well this morning, and I told +her there was no need of rising with the lark," answered +cousin Jane; but, though her voice was cheerful, there +was a new gravity in her face.</p> + +<p>"It is something unusual"—</p> + +<p>"She is getting to be an old lady, Jack. There, sit +down to your breakfast while it is nice and hot. No fear +but what I will attend to grandmother."</p> + +<p>She had risen; but in the midst of her dressing her +hands had lost their cunning, her limbs their strength. +Jane came to look at her in alarm.</p> + +<p>"It's a warning," she said, with her grand old smile. +"But I have no pain, and so you can leave me here for a +while. My strength may come back."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Darcy was much frightened.</p> + +<p>"Remember that ninety-four is a good old age, and she +has hardly had a sick day in her life. After breakfast +Jack might go over for Dr. Maverick. He is sensible, +and will not torment her with experiments."</p> + +<p>Jack rather hurried through his meal, and then ran up +to grandmother's room. She put out her wrinkled hand, +thin to be sure, but still slender and smooth, with no +knobby joints. A proud sort of beauty illumined the old +face, though the eyes were a little dull.</p> + +<p>"Dear boy," and there was a curious quaver in her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span> +voice, "I've had to give in at last. The Lord knows +best. He has given me many a happy year with you; +yet I have never forgotten the folks over yonder. I shall +be glad to see them again,—your father, Jack, and the +rest. 'Then they came to the land of Beulah, where the +sun shineth day and night, and betook themselves to +rest'—you know. We used to read it together."</p> + +<p>A sharp pang went to Jack's heart. He pressed the +limp hand to his lips, and gazed into the face that had +changed in some indescribable way. Then Jane came +with a tempting breakfast, and fed her with wonderful +gentleness, it seemed to him.</p> + +<p>He went out, and brought Maverick back with him.</p> + +<p>"It is a general breaking-up of nature," said the doctor +with a tender gravity. "Nothing can be done, unless +she should suffer; but I do not think she will. It is the +way lives ought to end oftener. Give her whatever she +will take; and keep cheerful, all of you. After all, it is +only a little journey."</p> + +<p>"Where?" the young eyes asked as they met each +other in solemn mood.</p> + +<p>Jack scarcely left her. She liked to open her eyes, and +find him sitting there, when she would smile faintly, and +murmur a few words. Sylvie and Miss Barry were the +only visitors admitted to her room. They used to read +out of "Pilgrim's Progress," the book she had loved so +well, and occasionally they sang some sweet old hymn.</p> + +<p>"Jack," she said once, "you will find everything in +my old box there in the bureau. It was my mother's, and +came across the sea with me. You have been a good lad. +You took your father's place with me, and you must never +regret that you staid here to make an old woman happy. +You have been a good lad—a good—little lad"— And +her mind wandered to other years.</p> + +<p>Just growing gradually weaker, and falling asleep peacefully. +A long, well-spent life, and a death to remember +and desire.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span></p> + +<p>They buried her in Yerbury churchyard, and the townspeople +turned out to do her honor. Jack thought of +another death, and the almost solitary state of the funeral.</p> + +<p>How good it was that they had Jane Morgan now! +She carried them right along.</p> + +<p>Jack opened the brass-bound box, still fragrant with its +sandal-wood lining. Some old letters, the trinkets she +had saved from her poverty, and a will bequeathing her +all, in government bonds, to Jack.</p> + +<p>There was nearly seven thousand dollars. With his +own little savings he felt quite rich.</p> + +<p>"Jack," said his mother, "all these years you have +waited patiently, and put by your own dreams. Do not +think that I did not notice the struggle. It was very generous +and kindly; and I am glad, for grandmother's sake, +that you staid. But now if you like we will go somewhere +else, and make a new home"—did her voice tremble +a little then? "I am still young enough to take root +elsewhere, and cousin Jane is so energetic she helps one +to new life. There may be prettier and more prosperous +places, and you have years before you in which to realize +a fortune."</p> + +<p>He glanced up at the face bending over him, instinct +with the honorable grace of middle life; the hair with a +few threads of silver; the soft, fine skin showing some +wrinkles about the eyes and two or three light creases +across the forehead; the cheeks out of which roundness +had vanished, and the lips the scarlet of girlhood, but +though both were pale the mouth was still tender and +sweet. A womanly woman,—that seemed to him a perfect +description of his mother, a woman who had loved +three generations, and held by them. Now for his sake +she would give up the old ties, and try a new world,—this +shy, shrinking, loving woman.</p> + +<p>What would she leave? She had never known any +other home in her married life, though this had been<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span> +changed and improved since her wedding-day. Everywhere +some trace of his father. The porch with the +roses climbing over it, the great maples in the street, +planted by him; the odorous old balm of Gilead, that he +had hunted up because she had cared for it, and they had +one in her old home; the trailing clematis with its shining +smilax-like green, and its heliotrope fragrance; the white +rose that had been planted on the morning of Jack's +birth, and had sent up many generations from the old root; +the latticed summer-house with its wealth of grapes; and +almost like a vision Jack could fancy he saw the tall figure +and deliberate step,—the sweet ghost of memory that +could never walk in any other place. Did his mother +have such dreams?</p> + +<p>Yes, there were better things to life than mere money-getting.</p> + +<p>"I believe those were the wild dreams of boyhood,"—smiling +a little,—"the 'long, long thoughts of youth.' +I used to want something that would occupy my whole +soul and every energy, that was stirring, earnest, absorbing, +and held a grand outlook. But I think"—very +deliberately, as if he were weighing every word—"that +my work has come to me, instead of my going out to seek +it. At all events, I shall not go away for the present."</p> + +<p>"Well," she returned, but she could not keep the +great gladness out of her voice.</p> + +<p>Having thus made his election, Jack Darcy looked sturdily +about to see what was to be done, and the best way +to do it. He asked two of the old over-lookers, Hurd and +Bradley, to meet him at Maverick's office; and there they +discussed co-operation until long past midnight. They +looked into the cotton-mill connected with the Rochdale +experiment; they read up the workings of those at Oldham +and Lancashire, of the industries in France, and +banking in Germany.</p> + +<p>"Here we are," said Jack, "with so much of our lives<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span> +spent in learning to manage looms and turn out different +kinds of cloth. People must wear clothes until the millennium, +and cloth will be made. It seems to me that it +must be a good thing to identify the workmen, and get +their real interest. We should avoid strikes on the one +hand, the continual disputes about wages, and be much +less at the mercy of all outside influence. The men will +understand thoroughly that industry, economy, thrift, and +perseverance is good for each individually; that he is +using these qualities not only for the master, but for himself. +There will be better work, and more of it."</p> + +<p>Hurd seemed to be taking the measure of Darcy +through this speech. Now he said,—</p> + +<p>"Darcy, any man who knows enough to head such a +business as Hope Mills, knows enough to carve out a +fortune for himself; and my opinion is that he would be +a fool to let the chance slip."</p> + +<p>"A man may have the knowledge, but not the requisite +capital," was the patient answer. "Then he might +think"—</p> + +<p>"Well, you've a sight of faith, that's all! Your men +will go on with the tramp of soldiers in good times; and +when the pinch comes, then look out! If they were educated, +reasonable, sensible; but you and I both know the +mass are not. It will do better in the old countries, for +there children expect to follow in the footsteps of their +parents; but here, where every boy looks upon himself as +a possible president, it cannot be done. It has been tried, +and has failed. It will again."</p> + +<p>"Then you will not join?"</p> + +<p>"I don't say that, Darcy. I can't very well get away +from Yerbury: if I could, the Lord knows I'd go. But +there—it is just as bad everywhere else. Don't be too +sanguine though: you young chaps build air-castles +easily."</p> + +<p>Bradley wrung his hand warmly at parting. "I want<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span> +to look into this thing a little more closely," he said. +"I believe you have struck the keynote. Whatever raises +the workman raises the whole world. If you get him to +be self-supporting, there is one less pauper or tramp for +the State to take in charge, and tax all other workingmen +for his support."</p> + +<p>"I rather like the scheme of the co-operative store," +Hurd began presently. "There's a sight of money somehow +between the producer and the consumer. Farmers +are grumbling all the time. I wrote to my brother-in-law +last spring about trading for a small farm, and going into +poultry-business perhaps; and he sent back a list of +prices he had obtained for his produce. Butter twenty-five +cents, and we paid forty this winter. Milk two and a +half cents a quart, while ours is from eight to ten."</p> + +<p>"Transportation to be counted in," suggested Maverick.</p> + +<p>"The thing discouraged me, so I thought I'd hold on +a bit, since I did not know the first rule for farming. +As Darcy says, we have spent all these years perfecting +ourselves in our business, and it hardly looks reasonable +that we should succeed at once in something altogether +different. If you don't mind, Darcy, I'd like to look +over that Rochdale experiment a little at my leisure."</p> + +<p>Jack handed him the book, and the small party dispersed. +In a week they met again, with two more, one a +stubborn old Englishman who had been in the business. +They had done very well for a while, then the market flattened. +They could not hold their stock, so the big fish +swallowed them up. That was always the end where you +had no credit and no reserve capital. Truth to tell, Jack +began to realize how hard it would be to convert some of +the very men he would like to have.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Hamilton Minor came up with some capitalists, +and Hope Mills was put up at auction. They looked +around the town, examined the building and machinery,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span> +which was the best of its kind; but nobody could tell +whether we had reached bottom prices or not, and, though +the place was to be offered at an immense sacrifice, they +were wary. Empty mills and rusting machinery were not +profitable investments. Mr. Minor's eloquence went for +nothing. These long-headed dons would rather hold on +to their money, though they expressed a good deal of +sympathy for the Lawrence estate.</p> + +<p>"I do believe it will go for the face of the mortgage," +said Jack to Maverick that evening. "Twenty thousand +dollars, and a year's interest and taxes. Twenty-two +thousand would cover the whole thing; and three years +ago Mr. Lawrence wouldn't have looked at fifty thousand. +Maverick, I can get together ten thousand of my own, and +if there was one other person"—</p> + +<p>"We will hunt him up," returned Maverick hopefully. +"There is the reputation of the cloth already +made, which is one great step in your favor. Yes, it +must be done."</p> + +<p>Yerbury was looking a little brighter and better at midsummer. +Scarlet-fever had pretty well disappeared; but +malaria had come in its stead, convenient name for want +of nourishment, stagnation, and despondency. The haggard-looking +wives and mothers went out to a day's washing +or scrubbing; but the children, better off, roamed over +the fields in search of berries or a stray ownerless fruit-tree, +laughing and happy in their rags and bare feet.</p> + +<p>Darcy tried two or three pretty well-to-do men, that he +fancied had the good of the town at heart; but the project +looked wild to them. If David Lawrence couldn't +stand up against hard times, no new men could. He, +Darcy, had better put his money in government-bonds, +and live on the interest. Nothing could be made in such +times as these.</p> + +<p>"It seems as if one half of the world has decided that +the other half should starve," Jack declared in a discouraged<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span> +tone. "No one is willing to start the ball again. +If it wasn't for mother I would risk every dollar of my +own. And then to think of the land lying idle about +here,—enough to feed half the town! I do not wonder +that we are fast coming to beggary and ruin."</p> + +<p>Maverick was pretty sober for several days, then he +went off to Narragansett Pier; "tired of my everlasting +badgering," said Jack to Sylvie, who, poor child, had her +hands and heart full of projects that she talked over with +Miss Morgan and her aunt, and did not make much more +progress than Jack.</p> + +<p>So it happened one July evening that Jack sat smoking +on the porch in a rather despondent frame of mind. +Miss Morgan and his mother had gone to make some +neighborly calls.</p> + +<p>A quick step came down the street. "If Maverick +wasn't in Rhode Island!" thought Jack; then it came +nearer, with a little halt, and Jack sprang down the steps +in the moonlight.</p> + +<p>"Hillo, old fellow!" said the rich, laughing voice. +"Have you looked after my patients, and entertained my +office-callers, in my absence? That would only be fair +play, for I have been about your business; and, by Jove! +succeeded too!"</p> + +<p>"Maverick!" There was an odd little tremble in +Jack's voice.</p> + +<p>"Ask me to sit down, and stay me with—well, a pipe, +for I have finished my last cigar. I came in the train +just fifteen minutes ago, and skulked—that's the very +word—under the trees and through by-ways, lest some +one, seeing, should lay violent hands on me. Yes, get +out your best armchair, old chap, and treat me like a +prince."</p> + +<p>The two seated themselves again, and stretched out +their legs to the porch-railing. The soft light fell around, +outlining here and there a bit of vine as if it were held<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span> +against a silver background. A few early insects were +chirping, and somewhere down the street there was a waft +of distant music.</p> + +<p>"Succeeded!" Jack drew a long breath.</p> + +<p>"Yes: with a woman too. Nay, you need not look at +me so wonderingly. I have not sold myself for base gold +to the Evil One," laughing lightly. "I have never told +you much about myself; for, like the needy knife-grinder, +'story, God bless you! there was none to tell;' but there +is a chapter now, and you must hear it first. My mother +was left an orphan in her infancy, and her aunt adopted +her. She was a canny Scotswoman, by name Jean McLeod. +She was very good to my mother, who married +quite to her liking, although my father was not rich, but +we always lived in a certain style, and my father had +a fine reputation as a lawyer. My mother's death, the +result of an accident, so prostrated him, that he never +recovered from the shock. Aunt McLeod came to stay +with us through that weary time. Then she took us both +to her heart and home: it was a large warm heart and a +beautiful home. My father left a little: it was made over +to me; and my sister, five years younger than I, was +brought up properly, and married properly, and lives in +Chicago in elegant style. Then Aunt Jean tried her hand +on me, chose a suitable young woman, and insisted that +the fates had decided it. The upshot was a quarrel. Not +but what the girl was nice enough, and all that, but I did +not care to marry; and so I walked off to Europe, and +was there three years. Some rather cool letters passed +between us at first, but they grew warmer; and when I +returned it was winter, and she was in New York. I +went straight up to her house. She was very glad to see +me; and there in her lovely library, all glow and softness +and perfume, by the side of the grate, with a screen in +her hand, sat Anastasia Lothrop. She is Aunt Jean's +pet <i>protégée</i>, though she has home and lands and people<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span> +of her own. A handsome woman too, by Jove! However, +we have gone our separate ways. I think she (Aunt +Jean) was rather annoyed at my settling at Yerbury.</p> + +<p>"Well, I went to Narragansett, and found her alone +this time; and she has promised to buy Hope Mills. I do +believe there's no end to the woman's money. She talked +it over as a mere bagatelle. I am to meet her in New +York, and you are to go down, Jack; and we are to see +the holder of the mortgage, and do no end of business. +I think she is rather interested in the scheme, and I do +believe she is delighted to do me a favor. Now you can +keep your money for a kind of reserve fund. The mere +savings of labor will not answer at first, you know."</p> + +<p>Maverick drew a long breath then, and puffed lustily at +his cigar.</p> + +<p>"I don't know how ever to thank you."</p> + +<p>"Don't thank me, Darcy. You see, I am interested in +this experiment. I want to see if there is enough faith and +honesty and industry and trustfulness left in the world to +make such a general partnership a success. You know it +has been said that since the war our character as a whole +has degenerated fearfully. Politically there is no doubt +of it. Commercially and industrially are still open questions. +If we could succeed in making one hundred people +comfortable, instead of one rich, nine comfortable, and the +other ninety next door to pauperism, we shall have done +something. If we can so educate ninety men that they +are able to understand the difficulties and embarrassments +of carrying on business and its numerous fluctuations, we +shall have raised them higher in the social scale. And it +is most sadly true of all the large failures of late, some +one has been dishonest, some one or two or three have +taken other people's money to speculate with. It should +be called stealing as much as when a poor man takes it, +even if he spends it for rum. And, Darcy, we will keep +our eye single upon one thing: we shall not move the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span> +world, or convert it, but haply one little corner of Yerbury; +while all the wit and wisdom the world has been +saving up for ages will be hurled against us in different +shapes, from puffy snowballs to the grim old fellows +soaked in water and frozen hard. And sometimes I +think, with all the energy you are going to bring to bear +upon this, you could carve out a fortune somewhere +else."</p> + +<p>"I don't know as to that, Maverick," said Darcy in a +half-funny, half-sad tone. "From New York to St. +Louis, from thence to New Orleans, to Florida, and back +here again, I never found an opening. Two or three +people did promise to write to me, but they have not. I +felt the world could go on quite as well without me and +hundreds of others. So, then, the only thing is to create +a place; and Heaven knows I shall try hard enough to +make a success of this."</p> + +<p>"And you will do it too: I'm not afraid. Give us your +hand, old chap! I never swore friendship with but just +one fellow: that was in my college days, and I have his +note for one hundred dollars as a memento. I might have +been keener, I dare say; but one of the transcendentally +lovely things of youth is its perfect faith. These preternaturally +wise and prudent young people come into the +world mentally gray-headed. But I do it now with my +eyes wide open; and, when you are a rich man, I have +another scheme I want to take through, a sort of home or +hospital of my own planning: so don't fancy I shall let +you off easy."</p> + +<p>They held each other's hands in a long, lingering clasp. +Beside the warmth and magnetism that was a component +part of Dr. Maverick's nature when he chose to use it, +which was not nearly always, there was a steadfast kindliness, +the vigor of a true and pure manhood, that made a +clear atmosphere about him, in which insincerity, weakness, +and selfishness seemed to flicker into pale shadows,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span> +and shrink away from the intense mental light he turned +upon them.</p> + +<p>And just here the vision of the boy face came back to +Jack, the strangling arms about his neck, the fluttering +breath and quivering lips, and the sound of the rather +thin, childish voice,—"You are <i>my</i> King Arthur, and I +shall love you my whole life long."</p> + +<p>The sadness in the smile was for the old ideal.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XIII.</h2> + + +<p>"<span class="smcap">The</span> telegram!" exclaimed Maverick ten days later, +striding down the garden where Jack was at work in the +strawberry-bed.</p> + +<p>Jack Darcy flushed like a girl, through the other fine +coloring of labor. He had hardly dared to believe in +and hold to Maverick's promise. Manlike, neither had +spoken of it since that night.</p> + +<p>"'Thursday, at four, at the Westminster.' That is +to-morrow. We must be on time, or she would never +have any faith in us; and, though my credit may be <i>nil</i>, +yours must be"—</p> + +<p>"As I hope to keep it through my life," was the grave +reply. "You will take the morning train?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. It will give us a trifle of spare time, which +won't be bad for a couple of overworked fellows like us. +But I must look after a lot of people this afternoon, and +if I can I will drop in this evening."</p> + +<p>Jack went back to his strawberries. He had been +making a mental calculation about an acre, and the +profits thereon, moved to it by something Jane Morgan +had said. Twenty miles below them, on Swanston Bay, +which was quite a summer-resort, the hotel-keepers had +paid twenty-five cents per quart for nice large berries. +On their little patch they had raised a hundred and +twenty quarts. There was another side to the labor-question,—diversity +of industry. Jane's idea of a great +fruit-garden, or call it a farm, was not bad. You could +crowd ten such patches in an acre of ground. If nothing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span> +better came to hand, he might hire some of the ground +lying waste around Yerbury, and set the idle at work.</p> + +<p>Sylvie came through with some flowers in her hand. +Jack looked up again, and laughed, and threw himself on +the grass under a tree, chatting gayly. He felt so light at +heart! She wondered a little, and then, without knowing +the cause, rejoiced with him in the depths of her soul.</p> + +<p>The two men started the next morning, and at the +appointed time were ushered into Miss McLeod's private +parlor. Maverick had said, "She's a little queer in +some ways; but in the main you will like her, I think." +Meanwhile Jack had formed a dozen ideals of her, based +mostly on the personal appearance of Miss Barry and his +grandmother.</p> + +<p>The door of the adjoining room opened, and Miss +McLeod entered. An old woman, of course, and a +fashionable woman, but with a young-old face and figure. +Not the graceful airiness of youth, so often painful +in its desire to impress the beholder with what it is not, +but an old age to which all the good things of life, rightly +used, have contributed, and brought about a delightful +result. She was of medium height, and possibly had not +been handsome in her palmy days; but she challenged +one's respect for a true and honorable womanhood, and +an old age neither inane, querulous, nor servile.</p> + +<p>A rather plump figure, with deep chest, full shoulders, +and erect carriage. The face was wrinkled; but the skin +had a peachy softness, the lips were still full and finely +curved, and, though the mouth was rather wide, it indicated +resolution and decision. The whole contour of the +face was slightly aquiline, the forehead high and broad, +but the curling hair falling over it in the requirements of +fashion softened it; shining silvery white, curling naturally, +and very abundant, the coil at the back partly covered +with a diamond-shaped bit of elegant black thread +lace that matched the barb at her throat. Her rich,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span> +soft, steel-colored silk made no rustle as she crossed the +floor, but the diamonds in her ears and on her breast +flashed a glitter of sunlight about her.</p> + +<p>Maverick greeted her with pleasant but not effusive +warmth, and introduced his friend. They skirmished on +the boundary-line of small talk for a while, Jack feeling +that he was being measured and gauged at every possible +indication of the real man, but his honesty of purpose +kept him steadfast.</p> + +<p>Presently Maverick plunged into the business part, +much to Darcy's satisfaction.</p> + +<p>"I wrote to my lawyer, Mr. Hildreth, about it," Miss +McLeod replied. "He has seen the parties holding the +mortgage; and, on account of business embarrassments, +they are extremely anxious to realize upon it. Mr. +Minor is naturally desirous of having it sold at an +advantage; but he is on the bond, and has been making +continuous efforts with no success. No one can tell how +low property will sink, business property especially, that +depreciates so rapidly if neglected. The mortgage is +considered one-third of what the property was valued at +seven years ago; but we have all shrunk a trifle since +that," with a shrug, and a curious little bend of the +head, as if the decapitation was not altogether a pleasant +process. "This is the 4th of August, and on the 19th +it is advertised for sale. There may be one chance in a +thousand of a better purchaser; though Mr. Hildreth +thinks no one but a lunatic, or a woman, would put +money in such an adventure," her lips curving in their +bitter-sweet smile. Indeed, there was nothing she was +so much like as a cluster of bright bitter-sweet berries, +on a sharp but sunshiny autumn day, with the leaves and +tendrils brown and faded, but the brilliant life and soul +still shining from the ripe centre. She impressed you +with the same defiant glow of exultation.</p> + +<p>"I have money lying idle, it is true," she continued;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span> +"but I want to hear your plans before I decide, Mr. +Darcy. Philip," nodding to her nephew, "has interested +me in this scheme; but I must know what it promises +before I take the risk."</p> + +<p>Jack was confused a little by the bright, penetrating +glance; and he had not quite overcome his boyish trick +of blushing. Often as he had gone over the plan with +Howell, Fawcett, and other political economists at his +tongue's end, all his troupe of fine ideas seemed to desert +him. He laughed at his own embarrassment: she smiled +and nodded, and that made them friends.</p> + +<p>"I don't know that I can put it any better," he began +earnestly, "than to say that I want to take up the lever +of work, and put the wheels of labor in motion, to bring +the starving workmen and the halting capital together +again. It is all very well for us to rush every dollar into +government-bonds; but if there is no business, what is to +augment our revenue, and where then shall we be finally, +with our mills and workshops shut up, and our people +begging? If I had enough of my own to bridge over +the chasm, I would ask no one's help," he went on a +little proudly. "The mills at Yerbury stand in sad +silence, with ruin before them; our men are idle and dispirited, +turning into tramps and vagabonds, because they +hate to sit still and starve. And here am I, of no real +use to the world, and the eight years back of me that I +have spent in perfecting myself of no account either, +unless I find something upon which to employ my ability +and training. If I purchase the mills, we must hire +capital to work them with, and everybody would be shy +of us. We can get together the capital if we could be +sure of the place for five years, at a moderate rental."</p> + +<p>"But would not a joint-stock company answer the purpose +better, and carry more weight?" she asked, listening +with a sort of intent wariness.</p> + +<p>"I want to enlist the workmen, so that we shall be reasonably<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span> +sure of co-operation in other things beside money, +industry, thrift, faithfulness, and a common interest in +success. If times are hard, we shall all make sacrifices: +if they improve, we shall benefit by the earnestness of our +endeavors. Maverick and I have made a little draft, based +on the workings of the best French and English societies. +If you will look it over"—and he took it out of his +memorandum.</p> + +<p>She studied it with a keen, rapid glance.</p> + +<p>"It is what I should call an industrial partnership," +Darcy continued. "We <i>should</i> own the mill; but, as we +cannot, that must go in the working expenses. As the +men choose, and are able, they can hold shares; but at +present this will be obtained—say from a dozen perhaps. +Nothing now will bring in twenty or even ten per cent, +and we must be satisfied with whatever we can make. +We have had our good times, and now we must take the +evil; but if there is any better way than sitting down +resignedly, and folding both hands, I, for one, want to +find it."</p> + +<p>She was taking in the combinations of emotion and purpose +that flitted over his face. A man who would do +something if he could get that hardest of all things, a +foothold to stand upon.</p> + +<p>"I think you might make more money," she said with +pointed brevity.</p> + +<p>"Which would not be co-operation," with his frank, +genial laugh that went to her heart. "I want to try the +experiment. Not that I expect to solve all the difficulties +between labor and capital; but I shall try to make them +better friends, so that, when you have weathered a hard +gale, pinching yourselves to keep on the workmen, they +will not strike for higher wages on the first stir of improvement, +as they will be certain of their share."</p> + +<p>"You are a philanthropist, Mr. Darcy. Can you +depend upon the temper of your men? They may do very<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span> +well just now when they are starving; but, when times +improve, are they going to wait one year or five years for +the sum they consider part of their wages? And if there +should be no surplus, but losses, as has often happened in +manufacturing? Your workman will</p> + +<div class='center'> +'Fork out his penny, and pocket your shilling,'<br /> +</div> + +<div class='unindent'>fast enough; but when the tables are turned, what then?"</div> + +<p>"There <i>must</i> be a different feeling when men are +banded together in a mutual business interest. The very +spirit of association appeals to what is best and noblest in +human nature. As it has been in Yerbury, for example, +the workmen contributed of their ability and strength to +support one family in princely luxury, pay one extravagant +salary, and several others that were out of all proportion +to the wages earned, and an extensive defalcation. No +one is at all the gainer now, unless it be the thief," his +face scarlet with indignation at the remembrance of Eastman. +"The men have been hit the hardest of all. No +wonder they feel bitter and discouraged. We make many +an Ishmael by sending him out with his jug of water, +while there are feasting and revelry within."</p> + +<p>"But you cannot make all human nature noble or sensible +or grateful. There is the grand co-operation of the +forty years in the wilderness, when food was provided, +and clothing lasted miraculously; yet under these favorable +circumstances, and with the sure promise at the end, there +was not a heavenly unity."</p> + +<p>Jack laughed heartily.</p> + +<p>"We must keep from golden calves and such folly," he +said. "We are likely enough to have our waters of +Marah. But it seems to me the best way to ennoble labor, +give it its true dignity, and show the possibilities for the +workmen, is concerted action. As matters stand now, +few poor men can ever acquire sufficient capital to start any +business; and perhaps this is not best when we consider<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span> +the cost of machinery, and the ever-appearing new inventions. +The small capitalist could <i>not</i> compete with the +large one. Yet capital often takes as its right the best +strength of the workman, the years of maturity and +ability, and throws him off in his old age. I know labor +retorts by carelessness, wastefulness, and utter indifference +to the employer's welfare. One is a machine to grind +labor into money; the other, to grind all he can out of +capital. Perhaps my design is Utopian, but it seems as +if something ought to be done before we train a whole +generation of men to be paupers and thieves. Better that +we should spend our money in labor experiments than +supporting poorhouses and prisons."</p> + +<p>Jack had lost his embarrassment now. There was a +glow on his cheek, and a steady fire in his eye, the lines +about the mouth sharply drawn, and indicating not only +masterly strength, but a kind of pitying patience, that +would never degenerate into sentimentality. It was a +very manly, trusty face; and his sterling honesty impressed +Miss McLeod, long trained to reading faces, while his +sturdy good sense promised much.</p> + +<p>"I should like Mr. Hildreth to see this paper," turning +it in her still supple fingers. "What if some of your +men insist upon going out after a year or two, Mr. +Darcy?"</p> + +<p>"There will be some kind of forfeiture, of course. +The true business capital must remain intact the whole +five years: the direct proceeds of labor may be subject to +some changes, but in any event the business interests +must not be jeopardized."</p> + +<p>There was a moment's interruption of a servant; then +dinner was brought in, and arranged for three. The +bright-eyed old lady made a charming hostess. She +poured their tea with a quaint dignity, and made them feel +quite as if she were dispensing hospitality in her own +house.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span></p> + +<p>She was the kind of woman whom young people, past +the lunacies of sixteen, invariably like. The feminine +portion told her their love troubles, the young wives came +to her with tangles and little jealousies; and, if she could +not always straighten them out, she had a marvellous way +of comforting. Young men drifted toward her by some +species of magnetism, though she had none of the fussy +motherliness of some old ladies. With faculties still keen +and bright, a great fund of good-humor that had the +sparkle of champagne rather than any insipid sweetness, +she never wearied or palled on any one. She kept herself +well informed of the world's progress, she knew of the +principal stars in the literary, dramatic, and artistic world, +and to be asked to her house was a compliment.</p> + +<p>The conversation was more general now; and, though +Maverick had told every thing of note about Yerbury, she +was not indisposed to listen to it again. They discussed +the panic and its causes, and ventured upon guesses as to +its duration. They all agreed that there had been too +much haste to be rich, too much greed of speculation, too +much personal greatness, and not enough national greatness. +No generous striving together to build up what the +war had pulled down, but every man for himself and for +gold. If women had been frivolous and vain, and dazzled +by the glare of newly acquired wealth, men had not been +quite free from faults. The terrible lowering of morals, +the dishonesty and fraud easily condoned, and laughed +over as a kind of shrewdness, were sad examples to set +before the next generation.</p> + +<p>In her way Miss McLeod was quite a politician, having +been so much in that circle. Her views of men and +measures were keen and discriminating; and her bits of +trenchant wisdom quite dazzled Jack, who at the last, proposed +laughingly, as his panacea, that every man should +undertake the mending of himself, when the world would +soon be righted.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span></p> + +<p>Afterward a coupé came, and they drove to the Park. +There evening and the bonny new moon overtook them; +but the streets and country roads were so inviting, they did +not return until quite late.</p> + +<p>"Consider yourselves my guests for the night," she +said as they drove back to the hotel, and Maverick was +too wise to demur.</p> + +<p>"I have been thinking this matter over," she said as +they were separating. "My part will be purchasing the +mills, and I shall take so much in the shape of rent. I +want you to consider what per cent you can pay, and not +straiten yourselves too much. I frankly confess that I am +greatly interested in you, Mr. Darcy; and as this young +man," touching Maverick's shoulder, "prefers to 'gang +his ain gait,' he leaves me quite free to waste my money +as I like. Be fair to yourself. Good-night."</p> + +<p>"It's all right with you, Jack," began Maverick after +they had been shown to their room. "Aunt Jean is a +trump! I almost forgive her Miss Lothrop. But I suppose +women would be less than women, if they did not +want to dip their fingers into destiny. It is their mental +chessboard."</p> + +<p>"But you do love her? your aunt, I mean."</p> + +<p>"Why, of course. Still, I should never dangle in any +woman's train;" with a curl of the lip.</p> + +<p>Miss McLeod was going back to Narragansett the next +morning. They discussed their last item of agreement; +and Jack said, with modest decision, "that such real +estate could not possibly pay more than three per cent to +any owner in the course of the next few years. He would +rather offer her that, and a share contingent on the amount +of business done at the end of five years, than assume +any greater risk just now."</p> + +<p>"Thank you for your honesty and your good sense," +she replied. "If you had offered higher, I should have +had some doubts of your financial clear-headedness. It<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span> +will be an equitable bargain. And will you be kind +enough to make some arrangements for me in Yerbury? +I shall come on the 18th, with a companion and a maid; +and Mr. Hildreth will follow the next morning. Get your +plans in shape by that time. I am glad to have met you, +Mr. Darcy, and I wish you success in your undertaking."</p> + +<p>They shook hands cordially, and went their ways. Jack +could hardly believe his good fortune, and now he was +afraid some other parties might step in and take the mills.</p> + +<p>"Much likelihood," laughed Maverick.</p> + +<p>Jack took Cameron in hand first, as he had been the +real suggester of the plan. He, Darcy, could use his ten +thousand; and, if ten more could be subscribed, they would +not need to hire outside. As time went on, this capital +might be equalized and increased. Hurd offered two thousand +and himself; and just then one of the old hands who +had succeeded in getting rid of a good bit of property that +had weighted him heavily, and picked up a little money +here and there, subscribed five thousand. Yardley had +none of his own, but persuaded his wife's sister to invest a +thousand. The other, Miss Barry offered, if no workman +came to hand. Winston was a handy Jack-of-all-trades. +He could repair machinery, or do any kind of wood-work: +he had sold cloth on commission, bartered and traded, +and had a good deal of shrewdness and good sense, and +pluck. He and Darcy would do the buying and selling; +Cameron would take charge of supplies, deal them out, +and see that nothing went to waste; Hurd and Yardley +would be overlookers as before. Every man could weave +his yard of cloth with the best. They would constitute +the managing force.</p> + +<p>The days passed rapidly; and to Jack's great satisfaction +no purchaser appeared, no curious soul even sauntered +about the mills. Miss McLeod came at the appointed +time, accompanied by Miss Lothrop, who was as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span> +distant to Maverick as if this were their first meeting. +The ladies were to stay with Mrs. Darcy, and the best in +the house was placed at their disposal with simple courtesy. +They were taken to the mills, where they made a tour +of inspection; Jack explaining machinery, looms, shuttles, +and spindles, with an enthusiasm that amazed even himself. +There was a new interest in the thought of having +a voice in the direction of that great engine now so silent, +and the work it was to do.</p> + +<p>"We shall not use half our looms in the beginning," +he said; "but I hope, before the five years are ended, we +shall be doing our utmost."</p> + +<p>They all hoped so for his sake. "If any man can make +the plan work, he will," thought Miss McLeod, who liked +him better every hour.</p> + +<p>Miss Barry and Sylvie came to call on the ladies in the +evening.</p> + +<p>"I suppose that is Mr. Darcy's sweetheart," Miss +Lothrop remarked afterward. "She is a pretty, enthusiastic +little thing, and she takes so much interest in his +affairs. I can just fancy how they will work together, +and the earnest, useful lives they will lead. What butterflies +we are!" looking down at her white helpless hands. +"Not you, but the young women of the day in general. +You are a busy bee, and still keep storing up your +honey."</p> + +<p>"And sting occasionally," laughed the sharp, bright +old lady.</p> + +<p>The sale took place the next morning at ten, at the +Court House. There was quite a number of spectators, +though the ladies, with Maverick and Darcy, were in a +private office. Hamilton Minor had come up, resolved +that it should not go for less than the mortgage, but desirous +of ending his responsibility. There were but two +bids. The auctioneer lingered a long while on Mr. Hildreth's +bid, commenting on the enormous sacrifice, but he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span> +could move no one's interest. It was reluctantly knocked +down, the purchase-money paid, and the deed made out to +Miss McLeod.</p> + +<p>Then the company's agreement was put in lawful, legal +shape. The managing board of five men were to have +sole charge of buying, selling, and manufacturing. They +were to give all their time and ability, to watch the state +of the market, and conduct every thing for the benefit of +the whole corporation. Darcy was to prepare a balance-sheet +semi-annually, showing profit and loss; and this +was to be open to the inspection of the firm.</p> + +<p>The parties to the second part, the workmen, were to +work ten hours a day, six days in the week, under the +supervision of Hurd and Yardley. The wages of the +men and the salaries of the managers were to be put at +the minimum rate, and both parties were to draw two-thirds +of this sum weekly. At the end of the year, the +profits on labor and capital were to be evenly divided; +one half apportioned to the capital, the other half divided +<i>pro rata;</i> but only half of this sum to be drawn out +yearly, the other turned over to the capital stock, and +placed to each man's credit. If any operative should +become dissatisfied, and leave, his share of the profits +was to be forfeited to a fund for sick or disabled workmen. +Any member of the association guilty of misconduct was +to be twice reprimanded, and for a third offence expelled. +A standing committee of the workmen, with one chairman, +was to investigate and settle such matters. Shares +of capital as low as fifty dollars would be within reach of +the workmen. A clause was inserted, that no ale, beer, +or spirituous liquors were to be brought into the mill +during working hours. It had been one of the old-time +rules, but often transgressed. Each man was to use his +best endeavors to promote the interests of the firm.</p> + +<p>At the end of five years, the agreement was to cease, +and the profits to be divided.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span></p> + +<p>Then the five-years' lease of Hope Mills and all its +appurtenances was made out to "Hope Mills Co-operative +Association," and duly signed. The rental was to be +six hundred and sixty dollars per annum, the company to +pay the taxes, and keep the mills in ordinary repair.</p> + +<p>Then the managers and a number of the workmen +marched over to Hope Mills in a body, opened the doors +and barred shutters, and entered with an exultant step. +They were to try their hand at good-fellowship in labor, +and see if it would solve the vexations of the old system, +or prove any stronger bond. Maverick had spread a +little feast in what had been Eastman's office; and they +sat down together, the ladies, joined by Sylvie Barry, +Mrs. Darcy, and Miss Morgan, taking the head of the +table. Some speeches were made, and some toasts drank, +and everybody wished success to Hope Mills. Had John +Hope unconsciously foretold their future when he christened +them for his own glory? Darcy thought so. The +name had a higher significance now, and was to be the +earnest of many souls, the watchword to inspire them.</p> + +<p>Miss McLeod bade them a hearty farewell. "There +may arise some emergency, Mr. Darcy," said she, "when +indorsing a note, or a similar matter, will be of great +importance to you. I shall not promise to do much of +it; but I am strongly interested in this experiment, and +want it to have a fair trial. Let me hear from you occasionally; +and, if you are in any great strait, apply to +me."</p> + +<p>Jack thanked her warmly, and she and Miss Lothrop +went their way.</p> + +<p>"She is a regular fairy godmother," he said enthusiastically +to Maverick. "I wonder that you do not adore +her!" and he studied his friend in astonishment.</p> + +<p>"Have you never heard of people being so much alike +they could not agree?" he asked with a light laugh. +"What ever possessed her to bring Miss Lothrop? It<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span> +was in bad taste, to say the least; and, whatever faults +aunt Jean may have, she seldom makes a blunder of that +kind."</p> + +<p>"Why, Sylvie was—well, a good deal pleased with +her. The acquaintance was so short"—</p> + +<p>"Miss Barry is the most generous and least exacting +woman that I ever saw. She judges people by her own +noble soul. Jack Darcy"—Maverick shut his lips +with a sudden resolution, and turned his face partly aside, +then said in a curiously changed tone, "We are two fools +to be talking about women, when there are more important +matters on hand."</p> + +<p>"But I shall always feel grateful to Miss McLeod. +There are several moneyed men here in Yerbury whose +capital is lying idle, who would not have done this thing +for me if they knew it would keep half Yerbury from +starving. Yet, if I had offered them ten per cent, they +would hardly have hesitated. It does seem to me sometimes, +that these old dons tempt one into lying first, and +swindling afterward. If you make them all straight, they +do not care how much crooked work you do elsewhere."</p> + +<p>"Natural depravity and innate selfishness."</p> + +<p>And now began the real work. The mills were cleaned +of the year's accumulation of dust and cobwebs and +general untidiness. Winston went at the machinery with +hearty good-will, and put it in order. Circulars were +sent out to the old patrons and to new houses, and workmen, +workwomen, and children straggled in to see what +was going on. Were Hope Mills to be really opened? +and was Mr. Darcy to be master? True, a good many +of the best men had gone off to try their luck elsewhere, +but there were plenty left for a start. Only, there was +a mystery these people could not understand. Something +about wages, and something about money; and Jack +patiently explained the matter, until, as he told Maverick, +he felt like a cheap-John auctioneer, dispensing wares.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span></p> + +<p>"The best thing will be to have a meeting," declared +Maverick. "See here, Darcy: I'll hire Brock's Hall +myself; and we will have a lecture, or a conference-meeting. +Subject, 'Work and Wages.' I'll have some posters +out too. Every one will know what we mean, that +we are honest men and true; and you will be spared +this everlasting palaver. Then we will have some rules, +or by-laws, or something, for the workmen. Talk to Mr. +Winston about it. He would make a capital speaker, +with his glib tongue."</p> + +<p>Darcy thought it an excellent plan, and they set about +it immediately.</p> + +<p>"But you'll have to post me," confessed Winston. +"The only co-operation I ever was in was a building-association, +and our treasurer ran off with our funds."</p> + +<p>Maverick promised to "coach" him. Indeed, it was +the doctor who gathered up statistics, and put them in a +compact and telling form.</p> + +<p>They had a large audience,—men and women. "Robert +Winston, Esq.," was the orator of the evening. He +was a fluent speaker, and had a good deal of humor. +He began about the early Anglo-Saxon guilds, and the +banding together of craftsmen when towns grew large +and prosperous, and labor was performed in the workshops, +instead of at home; of the importance of the +woollen-manufacture in the days of Elizabeth, not only +in England, but on the Continent, when kings did not +disdain to borrow money of these corporations; of their +final overthrow, and the causes leading to it; of the +growth of trades-unions, and the views of conflicting +writers on the subject. The workman's necessities so +often compelled him to accept what he felt to be inadequate +returns, because he could not wait,—it was work +or starvation with him,—so that in dull times he was not +only at the mercy of the employer, but every other starving +workman. On the other hand, so few workmen ever<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span> +informed themselves concerning the employer's perplexities +and dangers, they had no broad and vital interest in the +business until they all became leagued together, as in +co-operation. Then they shared one another's burdens +and prosperity. It was not the one great fortune, but +the many comfortable incomes. It was the fruit of the +noblest thought and the truest philanthropy. As a producer +it had done its best work in France; and he went +briefly over the work of the masons at Paris, and the +Association Remquet, which, after carrying on printing +business for ten years, divided among its members an +average of over ten thousand francs; the cloth-factory at +Vienna, with its flour-mill, bakery, grocery, coal-yard, and +farm; the different societies in England, that were promising, +to say the least. All this had been done by the +thrift and economy of individual members, who educated +themselves by doing business, and so were enabled to +dispense with the profits of middle-men, and the greedy +clutch of speculators.</p> + +<p>After Winston had finished, Dr. Maverick went briefly +over their plans for Hope Mills in a very simple and +direct manner.</p> + +<p>"Winston was capital!" said Jack afterward. "When +we are hard up we can send him off on a lecturing-tour. +But wasn't it rather over the heads of our people?"</p> + +<p>"It was for others beside the workmen. You know, +Darcy, some men are so used to swindling and misrepresentation, +that they invariably accuse every plan of another, +of the same motive. You will have a good deal of +this back talk before your five years are ended; and I +want Yerbury to know that this is an old, old scheme. +I might have quoted the children of Israel, as aunt Jean +did, and shocked the religious portion of the community. +But, after all, isn't the greatest truth, the Golden Rule, +co-operation in <i>all</i> forms?" and he glanced up triumphantly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span></p> + +<p>Jack did not gainsay him.</p> + +<p>He had hit the truth in regard to Yerbury. Some of +those who had managed to hold on to their money through +all the stress of hard times raised their eyebrows and +shook their heads in amused derision. "A fool and his +money," said they, and "Set a beggar on horseback," +besides numerous wise saws people love to fling at their +neighbors. A mortifying collapse was predicted. There +wasn't a woollen-mill in the country paying. The smaller +people who had been easily induced to invest their money +in building-lots, under the supposition that in a few years +there would hardly be standing-room in Yerbury, looked +askance at this project, so much more easily does speculation +appeal to human nature, than the slower but more +honorable results of industry.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XIV.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">It</span> was easy enough now to get hands who would consent +to the three-quarter wages. With one winter of semi-starvation +the poor of Yerbury were glad to take any thing +that promised bread. The masters were going to share +with the men; but they were made distinctly to understand, +that, unless the mills earned something over and above +this, there could be no surplus, no dividends. Another +thousand of the capital had been made up by some of the +hands, who thought this promised as well as railroad-stocks, +lots out on country barrens, or even savings +banks.</p> + +<p>To be sure, some burly fellows, whose wives could hardly +keep soul and body together over their washing-tubs, +swore great oaths that Jack Darcy was a fool to think he +could find men to play into his hands that way! Bob +Winston was a blower, and never kept at any one thing; +and some of the rest were old screws, and in six months +time everybody would see!</p> + +<p>However, Hope Mills rang out its great bell cheerfully +on Monday morning, the middle of September. A small +procession wended their way in at the side gate. The +engine, with Robert Winston at its helm, as they had not +suited themselves with an engineer, puffed and groaned; +but, if it was not a merry music, it was good to hear, for +all that. The faces were pinched and thin with a year's +care and want and the horrible fear of the future, but they +tried to smile cheerfully. More than one poor woman had +tears in her eyes, and spoke in that hysterical, half-laughing,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span> +half-crying tone, that told how deeply her feelings +were moved.</p> + +<p>By night they were quite settled in the old places, or +adapted to new ones. Perhaps the year's experience had +done these people some good: they had learned to manage +closer. Cameron and Darcy had discussed thrifty +French ways of management, and now meant to profit by +them if possible. The American spirit of wastefulness +should not run riot as it had in times past. Dyes and +oils and chemicals were to be sharply looked after, and +Cameron was the man to do it.</p> + +<p>Before the first week was out, an engineer came to +hand. There had been several applications, but some +men raised their noses and laughed loudly at the rate of +wages. A young chap just out of his time when the +panic came on, and who had tried every thing, even to +rail-roading, took the place with hearty thanks; a quick, +bright fellow too, who had a love for his business, and +said in ten minutes time, "She's a pretty engine, Mr. +Winston!" with the enthusiasm of a true artist.</p> + +<p>"That chap'll blow up Hope Mills in less than a +month," said Jem Stixon, who had been refused. "You +mark my words! I wouldn't have wife or child of mine +working there."</p> + +<p>Darcy watched the temper of the employees, and reported +every few days to Maverick. The little social +"we" and "ours" was working wonders, he thought.</p> + +<p>"And we do nothing!" said Sylvie one evening, in a +discontented tone, as she sat crocheting by Mrs. Darcy's +pretty round table in the old library, that had become a +kind of general business-room. "I thought you were +going to set us women at work about something. Miss +Morgan and I have been waiting patiently."</p> + +<p>"There was the cooking-school"—</p> + +<p>"But we have nothing to cook. And how are we to +get any thing? unless we set up as those poor weavers in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span> +Toad Lane, on our pocket-money. I believe I beg from +those who have a little, nearly half my time, to give to +those who have nothing. And, would you believe it, some +of the women begin to think they <i>must</i> be provided for. +Mrs. Cairns asked me to-day when the relief-store was +going to open. She didn't see why there shouldn't always +be something here like the parish relief in England. +And when Mrs. Ray offered to take Josie this winter, and +keep her in shoes for what she could do, and teach her a +little, Mrs. Cairns said, 'if she was worth any thing, she +was worth more than that. She might have her for a +dollar a week.'"</p> + +<p>"Such people ought to go hungry," declared Jane +Morgan sharply.</p> + +<p>"I've been thinking," said Jack, who now raised his +eyes slowly, "there is one thing you might help do; and, +indirectly, it would be very serviceable to me. Sylvie, +you know Kit Connelly's corner, as they always call it?"</p> + +<p>"Well, so it is: Mrs. Connelly earned the money that +bought it, and I am glad she didn't let Dennis go on in +business until he spent every cent of it. And oh, Jack! +all we women of Yerbury ought to be doubly proud that +she wouldn't let Den keep a beer-shop there, nor hire it +to any one else."</p> + +<p>"I hope you are. I think Kit was pretty plucky to +take the black eyes and the grumbling. It was a good +job for her when Den went over to the Bowman House for +hostler. So, of course, it has been shut up a year and a +half. You know, two blocks down below, Keppler's door +stands open for everybody, and so many of the mill-hands +pass that way. It is so easy to run in and get a glass, and +the men who bring their lunches go down for a mug of ale. +It is a terrible temptation, and I wonder if they are not +more easily tempted on an empty stomach? Well, I've +been considering for some days if we could not start a +coffee-house there,—set Kit up in business. I'm not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span> +going to fling a temperance-pledge right in every man's +face,—for that makes them spiteful. I do not even want +to exhort. But if we put it there,—right in their way,—and +there was a nice fire in the evening, and maybe a +book or two"—</p> + +<p>"Splendid, Jack! There's no such thing in Yerbury. +Let's get about it right away!" and Sylvie sprang up, as +if she would start at once.</p> + +<p>They all laughed.</p> + +<p>"There must be a little planning first. Mrs. Connelly +is a bright, good-hearted creature, and can make good +coffee; and Rose and Kathleen would make nice little +maids. She stopped me to-night to inquire if there was +any chance of their being taken in the mill. There must +be some diversity of employment, or presently we shall +all be doing the one thing again,"—and Jack smiled +humorously. "Dennis gets low wages, Bernard is in +the mill, and there are two younger boys. She takes in +gentlemen's laundering, as you know. She was wishing +she could rent out the store, but no one wants it. Now, +if it could be altered into an attractive coffee-room, kept +neat and bright, and—you will laugh at me, no doubt—but +given a kind of style,—the cups clean and shining, +the spoons decent, and some nice bread and butter for +noon lunches. All this at a moderate price. The men +pay five cents for their pint of ale, and it is often shared +by two: they must not give more than three cents for +their cup of coffee."</p> + +<p>"I suppose you mean that we are to plan it all out +for her," said Sylvie, and she looked across at Miss +Morgan.</p> + +<p>"It will not do to buy a pound of sugar and a pound +of coffee at a time," said Jane concisely.</p> + +<p>"Then I will be the capitalist," promised Sylvie.</p> + +<p>"Exactly. Kit had better do this on some money that +she must give an account of, and it will make her more<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span> +careful. She owns a cow, so there is the milk. I should +like this started quietly, not with a great blare of opposition +to the dram-shops."</p> + +<p>"Well, what must we do first?" asked Sylvie.</p> + +<p>"I wish you and Jane would go down and call on her, +and suggest the business. See how she takes it, and look +around at the capabilities of the place. I will see to the +fitting-up."</p> + +<p>They went, as desired. Mrs. Connelly—a round, rosy, +buxom Irishwoman, with a mellow voice, laughing eye, +and artist-red hair—was very much taken with their +plan. "To turn an honest penny in these hard times, +and not be wronging any one, would just suit the likes +of her. And there was the store standing empty,—but +it might stand till the crack o' doom afore she'd have a +drop of rum sold in it. There never was a better man +than Den when he was sober, and sure she'd had sorrow +enough along wid drinking. And there was Barney +growin' up, and the two smaller ones, and she'd never, +never put a bit of temptation in their way."</p> + +<p>The store had been used for a meat-shop and green-grocery. +Kit had sold the fixtures when she had been +in sore need of money, so now it was a great bare room, +with one large window and two small ones.</p> + +<p>"Sure I can scrub an' whitewash it myself, an' put +clean curtains to the windows. And you're very good +to think of such a thing, Miss Barry,—may the saints +bless you! An' if Mr. Darcy will see to getting what is +wanted, I'll do my very best to please you all."</p> + +<p>Sylvie blushed a little at taking the credit, but it was +Jack's wish. Jack had a small portico built over the +door-way, to keep out the cold in winter, and a neat sign +put up, with but two words,—"Coffee-House." Sylvie +and Miss Morgan ordered some cheap, small tables, some +plain wooden chairs, and found two comfortable, old-fashioned, +wooden settles. Then she collected old magazines<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span> +and illustrated papers, and a rack was put up at +one side for them. All the tables were covered with light +marbled rubber-cloth, so that they would be kept fresh +and sweet. The sugar and coffee were forthcoming. Kit +could roast coffee to a turn. One Thursday evening the +place was lighted up, and a few guests asked in; and the +next day the fame of Kit Connelly's coffee-house began. +Half the folks in Yerbury knew her and Dennis.</p> + +<p>Rose Connelly, who was just seventeen, a nice fresh-looking +girl, was to keep the books, and take the money as +she was quite a scholar. Several of the mill-hands +went over immediately for their lunches. Such splendid +wheat, rye, and Graham bread, spread already, and +brought on a clean plate! A nice bite for three cents, +and a solid meal for six. Sylvie was to go down now +and then, of a morning, to keep matters straight.</p> + +<p>"There is one entering-wedge in the cause of temperance," +she remarked, in her piquant way. "Only, Jack, +it does not seem quite right for us women to take the +credit of it. I confess, among all my plans, there has +been nothing like this."</p> + +<p>"I would rather not be openly connected with it," and +Jack made a queer little grimace. "By and by I may +have to do some real fighting on my own account, and I +don't want too many vulnerable points. Human nature +is rather queer and cranky, as you have, no doubt, +observed by this time."</p> + +<p>"But I do not see why any one should want to fight +against your good work, Jack," said Sylvie, with an +indignant flush. "I am sure it is no light undertaking +to provide all these people with work; and everybody +ought to strengthen your hands, instead of putting obstacles +in the way."</p> + +<p>"I must be prepared for all things."</p> + +<p>Maverick was very enthusiastic over the coffee-house. +It was a new institution in Yerbury. There had been in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span> +good times several so-called cheap lunch-rooms, but the +fare was invariably poor.</p> + +<p>"Keppler will be your first enemy, and your worst +one," said the doctor with a shrewd smile.</p> + +<p>"Very well. He must fight Miss Barry and Miss Morgan. +I did send a man to do some work, but Miss Barry +paid the bills. I keep my hands out of it altogether."</p> + +<p>"Good for you, Jack. And how does business progress?"</p> + +<p>"I am dubious," and Jack shook his head in a mock-serious +way. "There is too much rose-color. Every +thing works to a charm. Whether people really have +learned something by the hard times, remains to be seen; +but it looks so now. And we couldn't have a better working +firm. Owen Cameron is the same kind of a man that +Miss Morgan is for a woman, not stingy here and wasteful +there, but a thorough-going economist. Every week he +makes a little saving somewhere. It is what we needed +to learn, badly enough. He manages to make the men +understand that every penny saved is for the benefit of +all, that a yard of cloth or a pound of wool spoiled is to +the loss of all. And that is the only way to settle this +business, this everlasting wrangle between labor and +capital."</p> + +<p>Amos Hurd and Peter Yardley used to talk over the +other scheme of a co-operative store. It would not do to +have too many irons in the fire in such times as these, +when no one had any great deal of money. But it did +seem as if poor people were paying at the dearest rate for +every thing, partly because they asked for trust, and the +only man willing to trust them to any extent kept a very +full line of second or third rate articles, but the prices did +not always correspond.</p> + +<p>"Now, there's coal," said Yardley one evening. "At +the trade-sale it went up ten cents a ton on the average. +Our dealers here, who had their yards full, put up their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span> +prices from twenty to thirty cents. I know, on the other +hand, if coal takes a sudden tumble, they may lose; but, +after watching this thing for years, I find the prices go up +five times with full yards, where they fall once. Now, I +was thinking, when coal was bought for the mill, some +extra car-loads might be ordered for the men."</p> + +<p>"Yes," and Hurd opened his eyes widely. "Let us +talk to Darcy about it."</p> + +<p>Jack listened to their proposal with a sudden interest.</p> + +<p>"It will be some trouble to you," he answered. "It +is not as thoroughly screened, and there is the delivering. +The men cannot carry it home in market-baskets."</p> + +<p>"I don't know about the screening," said Yardley +rather grimly. "When you clean up your bin, and find +several bushels of sand and refuse out of five or six tons, +you think half of it, at least, ought to have been good +burning-coal. And in wholesale buying you get long +tons."</p> + +<p>"I can do it as well as not," replied Jack. "In fact,"—laughingly,—"it +will rather redound to my credit to +order largely, and we have a somewhat extensive coal-shed. +But you must look up one or two men who will cart it, +and a man to screen; and, when you have counted up your +labor, decide upon what price you can offer your coal. +Perhaps it would be as well to canvass, and learn how +many tons you can dispose of."</p> + +<p>The workmen had their own board of managers, of +which Yardley had been elected president. They generally +met every week, and now Yardley laid this matter +before them. There would be an average saving, he +thought, of two dollars on every ton, but the coal must be +paid for in thirty days. If the men chose to leave one or +two dollars every Monday night (for Darcy had wisely +made Monday instead of Saturday pay-day) they might +give in an order for one or two or even three tons.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Peter Yardley found some thorns even in his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span> +path. A good, stout Irish lad was willing to do the +screening at a dollar per day; but when he spoke to several +carters, who were not busy half the time, to a man +they stuck to their regular price, fifty cents per ton. Not +one of them would work by the day.</p> + +<p>"I can fix that just right," declared one of the men. +"My wife's brother has a heavy wagon and two mules. +He used to do carting for the iron-mills, and since then he +has had mostly catch-jobs. He owns a little place over +on the creek-road; and I know he will be glad enough to +do it, and maybe take part of his pay in coal."</p> + +<p>Seth Williams was hunted up. He would come, and +bring his son who would help about loading, for two dollars +and a half a day. There were seventy-odd tons subscribed +for, but they decided to make their order one hundred +tons. Coal was selling at six dollars and a half per +ton at Yerbury. After due calculation, they offered theirs +to the men at four.</p> + +<p>It came duly to hand. After the first day, Williams +hired another team on his own account, and his son drove +one to its destination, making thereby extra time. Before +the seventy tons had been delivered, the remainder was +bespoken. They found when it had all been disposed of, +and their workmen paid, that they had counted very +closely, but there was a small balance on hand. This was +deposited in the bank as a nucleus for a co-operative store +as soon as there might be sufficient capital to warrant it. +This, at least, had been a success. So many of the poorer +class of Yerbury were not able to pay for the last ton of +coal until they ordered again, being always that much +behind.</p> + +<p>Yardley was quite jubilant over his scheme.</p> + +<p>"You forget that in this you and Hurd have received +nothing for your trouble," said Darcy. "Then," smilingly, +"you have no bad debts to count out. Still only a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span> +philanthropist can do business this way. If you were the +proprietor of a coal-yard, you could not afford it."</p> + +<p>"I think I have something for my trouble, Mr. Darcy," +the man answered proudly. "I have saved ten dollars +on my four tons of coal, and that surely pays me."</p> + +<p>They were doing moderately well at the mill. Several +orders had come in from old buyers; and now Winston +started out on a travelling tour, being admirably fitted for +that part of the business. At the West he managed to +talk two large wool-dealers into a trade; they taking cloth +of various grades in exchange, and disposing of it to the +best of their ability.</p> + +<p>"A regular old-fashioned barter," he wrote to Maverick. +"It took a good deal of talking, to be sure, but I'm +never the worse for that. They were pleased to get a fair +price for their wool, and I lost nothing on my cloth. It +clears out the stock, and keeps the men busy."</p> + +<p>Indeed, Hope Mills was doing a great thing for Yerbury. +There was a brisker air on the streets, a kind of inspiring +music in the whir and clatter, that spoke of food and +warmth and raiment. Good feeling and sympathy had +been touched; and though some of the workmen, who +were harassed by back debts, looked rather ruefully at +their small weekly pittance, still it was so much better +than no money and no employment.</p> + +<p>At the Darcys they held what Sylvie laughingly called +"symposiums." The churches were organizing their +winter work, for there would be need enough. The few +who had found employment merely made a ripple on the +surface. Some who had stretched out their scanty means +the past year now found themselves penniless. Others +had tramped about the neighboring towns and cities, getting +a few weeks' work here and there, but had no fancy +for facing winter in this precarious manner. The hopeful +feeling animating so many in the early autumn died out<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span> +again. It was feared that we had not seen the worst of +the panic.</p> + +<p>To Sylvie, who the preceding winter had been engrossed +in art-studies and delightful social life, the want +and misery were appalling. She and Miss Morgan did +organize a visiting-society according to an idea of Dr. +Maverick's; and though they alleviated many cases of +distress, and were the better able to distinguish who were +worthy, still they increased upon their hands.</p> + +<p>"I begin to realize that poor people do not make the +best of their money," she said. "They do not know +how to prepare dishes that shall be cheap and palatable. +And, worst of all, many of them cannot cook a potato so +that it shall be fit to eat."</p> + +<p>"The weak point of this world, Miss Sylvie," said +Dr. Maverick. "When women learn to make good bread +and cook potatoes, there will be a decrease of one-half in +dyspepsia. Now, what is the secret of the potatoes? +Come, air your ideas! Give me a recipe, and I will take +it around among my patients. I advise them pretty generally +to bake them, but I find some soggy and watery +even then."</p> + +<p>"Overdone," said Miss Morgan briefly.</p> + +<p>"Well, state the exact time."</p> + +<p>The women looked at each other, and laughed.</p> + +<p>"From twenty minutes to half an hour," said Mrs. +Darcy. "Some kinds boil easier than others. For baking, +three-quarters to an hour."</p> + +<p>"But the infallible test?"</p> + +<p>"Watchfulness," said Jane.</p> + +<p>"I must admit that you seem to understand it thoroughly, +judging from the specimens I have seen and +eaten. But are you not a little chary in your information?" +and he glanced from one to another.</p> + +<p>"Miss Morgan shall be first spokeswoman," declared +Sylvie gayly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span></p> + +<p>"If it is a boiled potato," began Jane sententiously, +as if she were a child speaking a piece, "I put mine in the +saucepan, and pour hot water over them, as they come to +a boil sooner, taking care that they shall be as nearly of +a size as possible. In about twenty minutes I try an +average potato. If I can stick a fork through it nicely, +it is done. Then I pour off the water, letting it drain +until every drop is gone, when I shake up the lot two or +three times rather hard and quick, stand them on the back +of the stove with the cover partly off, so that the steam +may escape; and you have a dry, light, flaky potato, +unless it was irremediably bad to begin with. I have +sometimes boiled new and rather small potatoes in twelve +minutes over a good fire. But cooking, like liberty, has +the same high price, eternal vigilance."</p> + +<p>Maverick laughed. "I shall remember this," he exclaimed. +"You will yet hear of me teaching some of my +poor patients to cook potatoes. Heaven knows there is +enough need of it. Wasn't there some talk of a school +for useful arts?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," answered Sylvie, "only there was no money +to start with, and we have all been so busy."</p> + +<p>"What would be needed?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Imprimis:</i> a room, a cooking-stove, a fire, a cook, +and some materials," replied Sylvie with merry audacity.</p> + +<p>How pretty and bright she was! He liked to watch +her in these changeful moods. One great charm of this +place was finding her here so frequently.</p> + +<p>"And Mr. Darcy has been so much engrossed with +weightier matters," she continued in a half apology.</p> + +<p>"I really think I ought to be more interested in this +question than Mr. Darcy. It supplements my work. +While cheap living is an imperative necessity in times of +depression and low wages, I cannot see why we do not +make it more of a study. While we are so ready to copy<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span> +the vices of our French neighbors, perhaps their virtues +would do us no harm. A doctor often finds himself quite +nonplussed by something in the preparation of the patient's +diet. The old doctrine preached years ago, on St. +Paul's text of 'keeping the body under,' has worked as +much damage as the asceticism of the middle ages. A +good healthy body is the first requisite everywhere; and +to keep it so, every one's first duty. When men began +to consider the body a poor, vile thing, to be treated with +contumely, and fed with what would just sustain life, they +offered an outrage to the highest work of God. When +people think it is no matter what they eat, and that no +pains need be taken in the preparation, they have made a +big lapse toward heathenism. Confusion of the physical +senses leads to confusion of the moral sense; and weak, +miserable bodies with hysterical nerves, though they may +dream dreams, and see visions, cannot do good healthy +work in this world. And your poor people need a good +deal of training on this subject. It must be made an honorable, +not a despised, business. If I were to build houses, +I should make the kitchens large, light, and pretty; and, +if any room had to be small and uninviting, it should be +that for the storage of the best furniture," laughing +humorously.</p> + +<p>"Yes," responded Jane Morgan, "I like to go into an +old-fashioned country kitchen, with a nice painted floor, +and braided rag rugs laid down here and there: with a +grandmother's corner by a sunny window, and a father's +chair by the wide, cheerful chimney-piece, and a place for +the children to play, with plenty of room to get about. +Apples and nuts always taste so good in such a place! +Instead, we have a stuffy little kitchen and a cheerless +dining-room, that no one wants to sit in, and every member +of the family goes to his or her room, and sociability +is at an end. Then we must go to theatres, lectures, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span> +concerts, just to catch a glimpse of the members of our +own family."</p> + +<p>"There is a good deal of truth in that," and the doctor +nodded sagaciously. "And now I shall take steps +for that school. I may count on you, Miss Morgan, may +I not, and Miss Barry?"</p> + +<p>They both promised.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XV.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Meanwhile</span> what had befallen Fred Lawrence?</p> + +<p>He had been greatly shocked at his father's death. +True, the tender, intense affection that had so sweetened +childhood seemed to have died out; when they might +have attained to an enduring friendship, they had gone +separate ways, missing the exquisite sympathy that should +have existed between them. Whether the distance was +any disappointment to his father, he had never thought. +He was the only son of the house, and his slightest wish +had always been gratified. There had been no wretched +vices that sap body and soul, nothing to bring dishonor +on the old pure, family name; and, if David Lawrence +missed something that he had hardly longed for, he still +felt proud of his son.</p> + +<p>But his son, bending over the coffined face, was +stunned, paralyzed. Of this death he had never thought. +Was it not rather a frightful dream?</p> + +<p>The sharp reality followed fast enough. He listened, +still bewildered by the horrible visions that crowded upon +him. Hope Mills closed, notes going to protest, workmen +clamoring for pay, Mr. Eastman quite out of reach, indeed, +no one knew just where.</p> + +<p>Mr. Minor did not spare his father-in-law. How could +he trust every thing to Horace Eastman! How could he +allow George to go on unchecked in such a career of wild +speculation! forgetting that he had speculated quite as +wildly. And now all the property was covered with mortgages, +and not a dollar to be squeezed out of any thing.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span> +As for the bank business, that he sneered at. Let them +look to the Eastmans. They might have known that a +small manufacturing town like Yerbury could not stand +such galloping progress. In his heart of hearts he +thought George and Horace rather clever fellows to get +away before the crash began. And if David Lawrence +had only managed to provide well for his family,—his +manifest duty,—the rest might have gone without a sigh, +such trifles as notes and wages.</p> + +<p>Fred Lawrence he looked upon as a baby. Indeed, +Fred was of but little use in settling the business, much +more plague than profit, since he stood up stoutly for his +father's honor and integrity. He had that much of a +son's love. And he characterized Horace Eastman's +villany as it deserved: his education had not quite done +away with his moral sense in such matters.</p> + +<p>"Here for five years your father has given him a clean +sweep with every thing! If you thrust temptation right +in a man's way, what can you expect?"</p> + +<p>"His honesty would not be of a very high order if it +could withstand no temptation," Fred answered rather +scornfully. "It was necessary for father to travel in the +interests of the business. He surely could not stay here +to watch him. And you thought well of Eastman."</p> + +<p>"No man would play <i>me</i> such rascally tricks! There +is no telling what he has done! Books can be doctored +to look very fair."</p> + +<p>But they found enough. Pay-rolls for men kept up +long after they had been discharged, and many who had +never been at all; systematic falsifications that could not +be brought to light without a rigid inspection and comparison +by an expert. But Hamilton Minor felt, with the +world's wisdom, that bringing the Eastmans back as +criminals would not be likely to lead to any restoration; +while it would prove a family disgrace, and perhaps add +Gertrude to the list of dependent ones.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It makes me heart-sick!" declared Fred. "There +is nothing but selfishness and hollowness and greed. Are +truth and honor quite dead?"</p> + +<p>"Very fine talk, my young friend," said Minor in a +sneering tone; "but the question that more nearly concerns +you is how you are all going to live, granting even +that there may be enough to pay the debts. Of course +this great house cannot be kept afloat. You had better +discharge some of the servants, and retrench while you do +remain in it."</p> + +<p>Then had followed the talk with Agatha, when matrimony +was proposed as a certain and sure remedy for these +present ills: a cure the young man disdained with anger.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Lawrence kept to her room, and was too ill to +listen to business details, even if she could have helped +in any way, which she could not. She fancied now, like +many another woman, that her husband had been her only +delight in life, and that there was nothing left. When +Agatha suggested that she had been very short-sighted to +consent to mortgaging Hope Terrace, she cried, and said +"she would have given up every thing for him, and now +that he was gone she wanted no fortune,—she should +never leave her room again until she was carried."</p> + +<p>If there had been any bright little Sylvie to run in and +comfort her! any strong-hearted, tender woman, to whom +he could turn! He seemed now to realize more keenly +what he had lost, than on the night Sylvie rejected him. +And that other strong, manly soul—no, bitterly as he +might regret, he could no more go back to him than to +Sylvie.</p> + +<p>He roused himself, and began his work, utterly astounded +at the extravagance that met him on every side. +No doubt it looked right enough when there was plenty of +money; but it seemed now as if the servants had been +masters and mistresses, that all these luxuries existed for +their sake,—the gardens and graperies, the greenhouses<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span> +with their wealth of costly flowers; the horses standing +idle in the stable, with only servants to use them; his +father a plain man, his mother confined mostly to two or +three rooms, and occasional visitors; supplies ordered +lavishly, and wasted in a manner that seemed wicked even +to him. He wondered in a vague way if the system was +not radically wrong that brought such waste and carelessness +in vogue, when hundreds had not the necessities of +life. He remembered one talk his father had with Horace +Eastman over in the library yonder, with champagne and +cigars between them, in the height of one of the strikes, +and how Eastman had figured to a penny the exact percentage +of wages the mill could afford to pay. What if +<i>they</i> had given up a little of their luxury, and <i>he</i> his ill-gotten +gains!</p> + +<p>He had the pictures packed under his supervision, and +sent to New York. Not without a pang; for many of +them he had selected, and each one had some pleasant +reminder. The choice collection of the greenhouse was +offered for sale, the elegant furniture, and all the most +valuable of the personal property. Times were hard, and +sales were slow; but there would be sufficient realized, it +was thought, to pay the floating indebtedness. Hope Terrace +and the mills would probably go for the mortgages. +There was a small life-insurance settled upon Mrs. Lawrence, +and the children would be fortuneless.</p> + +<p>By spring the estate was in a fair way of settlement. +Fred had vibrated between the city and Yerbury all winter, +but his mother had been taken to Mrs. Minor's. A +gardener and his wife were placed in charge of the house, +while efforts were being made to rent it. A few rooms +had not been disturbed.</p> + +<p>And now Frederic De Woolfe Lawrence looked about +him to see what could be done. Up to this time he had +never given himself an anxious thought about money or +his future. Now it stared him unpleasantly in the face. +What could <i>he</i> do?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span></p> + +<p>Many things, he said at first, with the buoyant certainty +of youth and inexperience. Here was his education, his +talents, his fine mental training. Surely he had the magical +open-sesame of some door.</p> + +<p>So he set to work industriously, and wrote several articles +on the history and the philosophy of the pure +sciences. Very fine-drawn indeed, very intellectual and +analytical, as he went through the different schools of +thought, being able, it seemed to him, to argue as well for +the one side as for the other. Then he tried Neo-Platonism +with its profoundly mystical aspects and its brilliant +array of philosophers, its fascinating aspects of +Pantheism. The new world and to-day had nothing for +him; the dead and gone past, every thing.</p> + +<p>Alas! From every side he heard the cry, Literature +had been overdone. No one would buy, no one would +read, in this great turmoil. Everybody wrote now, schoolgirls, +college-fledglings: even small farmers and mechanics, +with the training of the present and a smattering of +knowledge, set up for geniuses.</p> + +<p>One advised him to try the realistic school: the old-time +philosophies had lost the high place they once held, and to +gain the attention of to-day writers must have snap and +vim. Another recommended popular science made easy +and attractive to general readers, something that caught +at the first glance. Life was too short to be devoting +years to any one branch of study. Still another was fain +to persuade him to attack the pernicious systems and +monstrous abuses of the present day. Then he stumbled +over Crosby, one of his college-chums and a member of +the L—— Club, where he had been a frequent and welcome +visitor the winter before.</p> + +<p>"My dear fellow," said he, with patronizing good-nature, +"take my advice, and let literature alone. It is +one of the most uncertain things. To-day you may suit, +to-morrow a chap comes along with some new fandango<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span> +or summersault of high art, and the world leaves everybody +to run after him, and you are thrown over. A man +cannot earn his salt unless he has the <i>entrée</i> of the initiated +ring. As for journalism, you may hammer at that +for twenty years before you get a position."</p> + +<p>Poor Fred went back to his room sorely depressed. It +was a quiet, clean room in a second-rate hotel, for which +he paid twelve dollars a week. There he sat and brooded, +until taking up the paper one morning he saw the arrival +of one of his old professors at the "Grand Union." Perhaps +he might put him in the way of something. So he +plucked up heart, and went to call.</p> + +<p>Professor Dennison received him very cordially, and +expressed the warmest sympathy for the loss of his father +and his fortune. He listened attentively to the young +man's desires, and answered in suavest of tones.</p> + +<p>There were so many applications: every avenue seemed +full. Young lawyers and doctors, finding no opening, had +gone back to teaching, and the college-graduates of every +year swelled this number. He would bear it in mind, and +see what he could do; but he advised his young friend +not to build too high hopes. "If I could make a place I +should put you in it at once," he said kindly, just as he +said it to a dozen others.</p> + +<p>It was so everywhere. There were no copyists, translators, +or writers needed. The clerkships were overcrowded. +It was not that there were too many doing one +thing, but everything,—too many people in the world. +Could the Malthusian doctrine be right, after all?</p> + +<p>He dropped into his brother-in-law's office one morning, +and, though he hated to ask a favor of him, discussed in a +rather fragmentary and abashed way the possibility of +getting any thing to do; and a fortnight after, Mr. Minor +sent him word of a broker who wanted a clerk, salary +fifty dollars per month.</p> + +<p>It was better than nothing. Then, too, it was a beginning,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span> +although he could imagine more congenial employments. +It did not look much like hard times, to note the +immense amount of stocks and bonds that passed through +the hands of this great house.</p> + +<p>Just at this period Irene returned. A fine, stately girl, +with the indescribable air that foreign society gives. Yet +she seemed haughty, bitter, and satirical; and it came out +presently that she and Gertrude had quarrelled over a +possible husband, and the amiable Gertrude had taunted +her with dependence in the future. Irene had sold some +diamonds, and travelled on the proceeds.</p> + +<p>"I think you were very short-sighted, Irene," said +Mrs. Minor when she had drawn this story out of her +sister. "A handsome American girl does stand a better +chance for matrimony abroad than here. So many fortunes +have been lost in the panic, and certainly I cannot +blame these men for choosing heiresses. You have been +in society a great deal here, and you will find fresh young +girls beginning to crowd you out. Fred has nothing, and +from present indications will hardly be able to take care +of himself. It was such a misfortune that papa had every +thing mortgaged! So Gertrude was right," in a bitterly +suave tone: "you must be dependent upon some one until +you do marry."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no! I might set up millinery,—with my taste +and aptitude for arrangement. I think I have read of +reduced young women who made fortunes in that line," +retorted Irene the queenly, in her unmoved way. She +was not one to cry out at a dagger-thrust.</p> + +<p>"Don't be a fool!" advised Mrs. Minor, in a short, +incisive tone.</p> + +<p>She, like most other people, had meant to economize +this summer; but now she made a sudden start for Newport. +Irene certainly was peerless in her half-mourning, +with her statuesque figure. But there was not an eligible +at Newport, so they turned their steps Saratoga-ward.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span> +And here they found an old admirer of Mrs. Minor's, +Gordon Barringer, a widower for the second time, the +owner of a silver-mine and a railroad, and Heaven alone +knew the length and breadth of his possessions.</p> + +<p>Miss Agatha Lawrence had turned up her aristocratic +nose at him, as a rather coarse and self-assured person, +as proud of his want of education as other men were of +its acquirement. Now he was about forty, stout, high-colored, +loud of voice, and with an important swagger. +But money had given "our enterprising citizen" power, +and he both understood and wielded it skilfully.</p> + +<p>His wife had been dead barely six months, but when +he met Irene Lawrence he decided at once that the penniless +beauty would be only too glad to marry him. He +was proud to think he could afford to be so magnanimous. +Mrs. Minor settled herself to the fact that there must be +no foolish dallying. Of course Irene <i>would</i> see. She +could not be so idiotically, so fatally blind!</p> + +<p>I do not know that at this period of her life Irene +Lawrence had any ideal. She had made conquests so +easily, she had found men so much alike, and in her secret +heart she despised them for being so ready to kneel and +bow at beauty's shrine. It seemed to her as if youth +and fortune were alike boundless; and she literally took +no thought for the morrow, until the tidings of her father's +death was followed by the subsequent news of loss of +fortune.</p> + +<p>If George Eastman had a self-conviction that he and +his cousin had contributed to this downfall, he tried to +make it up to Irene in brotherly kindness and generous +expenditure where money was concerned. He solaced +himself with the thought that, after all, he had no more +than his own, or what should have been his own rightfully, +though he fancied he could not have gone on to the +end quite as Horace had.</p> + +<p>When Sir Christopher Frodsham came across the two<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span> +ladies in Paris, Gertrude exulted at the easy conquest. +A man of fifty, whose young years and health had been +spent in sowing a plentiful crop of wild oats, but to whom +had come now, quite unexpectedly, a fortune and a title; +and prosperity, after years of rather bitter economy, made +him miserly, as it not unfrequently does such men. That +he would have been glad to marry this young, beautiful +girl, for himself alone, was most true. And Irene, in +the bewilderment of the losses, inclined to his proposal, +and begged time for consideration.</p> + +<p>He was not a man she could admire, respect, or love. +He was narrow, egotistical, selfish, and with the pitiful +vanity of a worn-out <i>roué</i>. Frodsham Park was in a +lonely, mountainous part of England, bordering on +Wales; and this man would look upon his wife as a nurse +and companion, and the mother of an heir.</p> + +<p>There must have been a little strain of heroism in the +girl. Suddenly, in one of those quick, vivid flashes, like +mental lightning, she saw that she could not do this thing. +She was not at all given to analysis; she had never dissected +her own soul, or that of her neighbors; but she +arrived at one of those swift, clear verdicts,—she could +not marry Sir Christopher; and she told him so, with a +frankness a trifle tenderer, perhaps, than she had used +with her lovers heretofore, as if some way she had +wronged him in thought.</p> + +<p>Over this, as I said, she and Gertrude had bitter words +and a parting. Now the same thing stared her in the +face again. This lover was too obtuse to be stung by the +fine arts of coquetry that lengthened practice had brought +to perfection. In all the bravery of self-assertion, he did +not know when he was beaten; and so he fought against +the intangible spear-points with which Miss Lawrence +could surround herself.</p> + +<p>Mr. Barringer was called to New York on important +business law-suits; and two days after, Mrs. Minor declared<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span> +herself wearied out with Saratoga. Irene felt the +walls of fate closing remorselessly about her. Why +should she struggle? she asked herself. After all, what +could she do but marry?</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, Hope Mills had been sold. Fred made +some inquiries about it.</p> + +<p>"A woman—a rich old maid, I believe, by name +McLeod, who knows enough to drive a sharp bargain—has +taken it. Some one is to set up the business, I +heard; an impecunious nephew, no doubt. No one but a +fool would make a venture when the market is overstocked +with goods. It is a shame that the estate had to lose +such a valuable piece of property; but there was no income +to pay taxes and interest, and, standing empty, it +would soon have eaten itself up."</p> + +<p>Fred sighed. For the first time, he wondered how it +would have ended if he had been brought up to some +useful business, and perhaps have taken Eastman's place +with his father. As for stock and share jobbing, he was +heartily sick of it. To him it appeared an immense +system of swindling the ignorant and unsuspecting.</p> + +<p>However, he was not destined to nurse his disgust very +long in brooding silence. The last of September the +great house of Bristol, Stokes, & Co., collapsed. The +wreck was unexpected, the ruin wide-spread. The house +of Minor & Morgan was hard hit, which did not improve +Mr. Minor's temper, though, Spartan-like, he wore a +cheerful face, and kept his losses to himself. Even if it +should be his turn next, the world must not know it.</p> + +<p>"There's a letter that concerns you, though it was +sent to me as administrator," said Minor to Fred, as he +sauntered in one morning, tossing the missive over to +him.</p> + +<p>Fred opened it with languid indifference, and his eye +wandered over the following lines:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span>—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><span class="smcap">Hamilton Minor, Esq.</span> + +<p><i>Dear Sir</i>,—On taking possession of Hope Mills, for business +purposes, I find some personal property belonging to the late Mr. +Lawrence. It may have a value for the family, and shall be at +your disposal whenever you desire it. Respectfully yours,</p> + +<div class='sig'> +<span class="smcap">John Darcy.</span><br /> +</div></div> + +<p>"As soon as Hope Terrace is disposed of, the accounts +can be audited and settled," said Minor in a sharp, +business-like way. "The debts have all come in, and +been paid dollar for dollar; though, if your father had +been a prudent man, he would have made sure of something +for his family. No one expects estates to pay more +than fifty per cent nowadays."</p> + +<p>Fred rose, and crushed Jack Darcy's note in his pocket, +holding himself proudly, while his cheek flushed.</p> + +<p>"I am very thankful," in a clear, cold tone. "My +father's life was pure and honorable, and no man can +fling a stone at his grave. I would rather be penniless, +as I am, than have it otherwise."</p> + +<p>"Oh! very well, very well," sneeringly.</p> + +<p>Fred walked out of the office, and turned into Broadway. +The same curious, restless, hurrying throng. +Where were they all going? Did they find room and +work? How clearly the sun shone! The sky was so +blue, with great drifts of white floating about,—strange +barques on a mystical sea. In spite of the outside roar +and rush, there was a solemn and awesome stillness +within him. He began to feel how entirety alone he +stood. A twelvemonth ago there were hosts of friends +pulling him hither and yon, proposing this and that, +laughing and chatting gayly. Where were they now? +Not all weak and false, but the shadow of circumstances +had drifted them apart. We do not always cease to love +or like when separation ensues; and in this shifting, +changing life, people drop out, yet are not quite forgotten. +Some of the young fellows whom fortune had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span> +buffeted had found a place in active, stirring life: he, +with his education, refinement, accomplishments, and +talent, was merely a piece of driftwood. Sylvie Barry +had been right,—he was a useless appendage to the +world. Ah, no wonder she despised him! Sturdy, +honest Jack Darcy could find a place. His self-complacency +was more than touched,—it was shattered, +completely broken up. The present was blank and colorless, +the future like a thick mist in which there penetrated +not one ray of light. What did all his elaborate philosophies +for him now?—art, that was to regenerate the +world; science, that explained and refined, and found a +place and a reason for every thing in the universe; man, +the most important of all. And here he was, tossed +aside like a weed. Who cared whether his nature was +foul or kinglike? He was, in truth, one of the atoms +floating about in space, and finding no use or purpose. +The world could go on just as well without him. Why, +if he should drop himself over into the river, there would +be only a ripple. He laughed, as if his personality was +something that did not really belong to him, that could +be put off at will, that was, in truth, answerable to no +power. All of life, then, had been a lie!</p> + +<p>He stumbled onward blindly. A sense of dreary mystery +crept over him,—an utter hopelessness. He essayed to +stretch out his hand to some passer-by, but the careless +faces mocked him. There was no strength or stay. He +could not even cry out with his anguish,—it was a dumb, +inarticulate voice. All his idols had been destroyed, and +there was no God to cry to!</p> + +<p>His last three weeks' salary had gone down in Bristol +& Co.'s ruin. There were some jewels to sell, a few more +pictures, several sets of rare books, and—what then?</p> + +<p>Starvation had appeared so utterly improbable in this +great, thriving world, and here he was, almost face to face +with it,—he who had never taken an anxious thought<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span> +about any thing, who had felt as if he really honored +money by the spending of it. A beggar! An object +of charity to Hamilton Minor!</p> + +<p>No, that should never be. He tried to rouse himself +from his lethargy. He went around to stores and offices +where he was not known, and asked for something to do, +as if in a curious masquerade. The same answer everywhere. +Nothing! The sun went slowly down, the street-lamps +were lighted. Every inch of his body ached with +the long tramp and nervous exhaustion. He had eaten +nothing since breakfast, but he was not hungry. What +if he did steal quietly over to the river, and end it all?</p> + +<p>The desperation was hardly black enough for that. +Somewhere near midnight he strolled home: how much +longer would there be a home, he wondered?</p> + +<p>He thrust his hand in his pocket, and the bit of folded +paper struck sharp against his fingers, so he drew it out. +Hardly the familiar school-boy scrawl: Jack used to hate +writing, he remembered. This had a decisive force +about it. How odd that business-like "John" looked! +"Jack!" He uttered the name aloud, and a thrill +seemed to warm his frozen heart,—to stir emotions +most contradictory. A sense of shame predominated, +tingling his very finger-ends, crimsoning his pale cheeks, +and stinging his soul with a sense of utter humiliation. +He had prided himself so much upon the immaculate +honor of his life, and lo! here he stood, self-convicted +of one of the basest of sins,—broken faith. Not from +any sudden, hot dispute, not from a knowledge of deception +or any small meanness, but deliberate, well-considered +treachery. It would have been manlier had he said to +Jack, "Our ways lie apart, and in the future we shall +meet so seldom, it is hardly worth while to keep up a pretence +of friendship." He had skulked away instead, kept +out of sight,—basely shunned the strong, tender soul +that had helped to make a peevish boyhood sunny and +bright.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span></p> + +<p>Black as this ingratitude looked to him now, he experienced +a strange and intense desire to see his olden friend +once more. What was he doing at Hope Mills? Had he +found a place?</p> + +<p>The next morning's mail brought him a check for sixty +dollars, for an article he had thought little of himself, and +sent merely because he had happened to finish it, and was +despatching his ventures out on the sea of chance. Then +he went over to Mrs. Minor's: he had not seen his mother +for several days.</p> + +<p>He was quite in the habit of going directly up to her +room; but, as he neared it, he heard voices raised in no +gentle discussion. Agatha stood in the middle of the +room, flushed, angry, an open note in her hand; Mrs. +Lawrence was weeping hysterically, while Irene sat pale +and sullen, but her eyes gleaming with a dangerous fire.</p> + +<p>"Very well: if you deliberately decide to take a beggar's +portion, then, do not look to me for any further help," +said Mrs. Minor. "This marriage would have afforded +you every luxury; and you have thrown aside the chance, +like a silly school-girl. Perhaps you <i>have</i> some secret, +favored lover!" and the glittering eyes might have annihilated +a weaker woman than Irene Lawrence.</p> + +<p>"If I had, I should go to him. I would live on crusts +and a cup of cold water with him, rather than luxury," +with a bitter, stinging emphasis, "and my own humiliation. +The man would drive me mad, Agatha! Some +day, yielding to an irresistible impulse, I should murder +him;" and she gave a shrill, unnatural laugh.</p> + +<p>Fred went over to her, and took her hand. His business +in life was to be her champion, her defender, her support,—not +only against this monstrous marriage, at which her +soul revolted, but Agatha's sneers and flings, and the +dependence a proud soul must naturally feel when the +very bread turns to ashes in one's mouth. How it was +to be done, he could not tell at that moment; but he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span> +drew one long breath of honest, hopeful manliness, and +resolved to leave no stone unturned.</p> + +<p>His mother wept in his comforting arms. She was very +much shattered,—quite an old woman long before her +time, made so by the follies of an indolent, enervating +life. Like a pang the thought pierced his brain, that for +these paltry results his father had given the strength and +labor of manhood.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XVI.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">There</span> were a few faint hints of autumn in Yerbury. +The air was warm, and freighted with the peculiar sweetness +of over-ripe grapes and apples, of dried balsam and +faded golden-rod by the wayside. The very air seemed to +quiver with intense contrasts of color, the yellow beeches +standing out in strong relief, the bronze-red of one great +oak, the bluish-green of the spruce, and the tender tints +of fading, long-armed larches, drooping in regretful sadness. +Lights of silvery gray and russet-brown, pale gold +and hazy purple, and a sapphire sky bending over all. +The artistic side of Fred Lawrence's soul was touched as +he had once fancied nothing this side of Europe could +touch it.</p> + +<p>For a moment a mighty rush of regret came over him. +This magnificent place had been his home. Perhaps he +would have been more than human not to have experienced +a pang.</p> + +<p>He wandered about for some time. It was too lovely +to go in and explore those dusty, darkened rooms: this +evening would answer for that. He paced the lawn, he +lingered by the gate; he took a turn about the grapery, +now used for profit by the thrifty farmer who had charge +of the place. Then he turned, and went down the street. +The bells were ringing for six. From his height above, he +could see the laborers wending their way, the great chimney +of Hope Mills. He would walk in that direction. +They would all be gone by the time he reached it.</p> + +<p>The streets were indeed nearly deserted. In the shade<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span> +here the wind blew a little chilly. Yes, it was just the +same; but then, it would not be likely to alter in a year. +Why, it seemed a decade almost, since the night he had +come home to his dying father!</p> + +<p>Ah, if they had been more to each other! Did he go +about with a lonely spirit, Fred wondered, feeling the uselessness +and insufficiency of the life he was leading? +Had he been glad to lay the burthen down?</p> + +<p>A sudden firm, manful step ran down the stone stairway +with a cheerful ring, and a voice hummed a tune +softly, as one sometimes does for a seeming accompaniment, +when the mind is occupied with other things;—a +tall, robust figure, with long arms, and a springy step, as +if he might still leap a post, or jump the creek. He was +rushing off, when, curiously enough, with no other motive +than an impulse, he turned, and saw an almost motionless +figure.</p> + +<p>Whether he would send for the articles belonging to his +father, or visit Hope Mills in person, risking a sight of +Jack Darcy, or whether he would summon courage enough +to ask for his old friend, were matters that Fred had put +off for to-morrow's decision. Why he had wandered here +at all, amazed him now; and he stood quite breathless at +the unexpected apparition, without power to move or +speak.</p> + +<p>If he had still been in the high tide of prosperity, Jack +would have passed him by silently, but with no rudeness. +Something in the bent head, the pale face, the general +melancholy attitude, came home to his heart,—his fresh, +generous, magnanimous heart. He ventured a step nearer, +he put out his hand.</p> + +<p>"Fred, old fellow!"</p> + +<p>The rich, full voice might have melted any heart. The +frank, honest eyes lighted with wonderful tenderness: +there was a glow and earnestness that could come only +from a large, forgiving soul, capable of putting by its own +sense of pain or any past discomfiture.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span></p> + +<p>Fred Lawrence crimsoned to the very edge of his hair, +to the farthest depths of his soul. He would have taken +the hand: then he drew back with a gesture of self-reproach, +as if he could tread his past sinful pride in the +dust.</p> + +<p>"Let's forget the bygones," the hearty young fellow +began, "that is, if you would like to have it so," drawing +back a trifle to give him his choice as a delicate +woman might have done.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Jack," grasping the warm, firm hand in +his own pale, cold one, and raising his soft dark eyes, so +near to tears. Just now no other words would come.</p> + +<p>Jack drew the hand through his arm. "I've thought +of you so many times," he began, as if they had parted +the best of friends. "It has been a sad year for many, +doubly so for you."</p> + +<p>"Sad indeed. O Jack!"</p> + +<p>It was all uttered in the long tremulous swell of voice +that tells the whole story.</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>With that, their friendship was renewed. Women +might have fallen into each other's arms with expressions +of penitence and forgiveness; but they had said their say, +as was characteristic of both.</p> + +<p>"Were you coming in?" and Darcy turned back as he +asked the question.</p> + +<p>"No: I only reached Yerbury an hour or so ago on a +little business. Some remembrance of old time brought +me hither."</p> + +<p>"I am glad it did. Shall we walk down Main Street? +Are you staying at Hope Terrace?"</p> + +<p>"I shall be for a few days."</p> + +<p>A silence fell between them. There was no one else in +the street; and their steps sounded with a steady tramp, +as if they might walk on to some definite end.</p> + +<p>"Jack, dear old friend, after requiting your tender<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span> +love to my exacting and selfish boyhood with a pitiless +treachery that will always shame my manhood, I wonder +if I dare ask it back, if I dare come to you."</p> + +<p>"There is nothing to give back. I do believe I have +kept up a sort of girlish hankering for you. And now, +if I can do any thing, if you are in any perplexity"—</p> + +<p>"Come up to Hope Terrace, and take tea with me. I +want to talk to you all the evening. You have just the +same mesmeric strength that used to soothe me when a +boy. What a milk-and-water cub I must have been! I +wonder you did not throw me over."</p> + +<p>Jack laughed.</p> + +<p>"Let us turn back to Kit Connelly's, and I can send a +message home, so that mother will not keep tea waiting."</p> + +<p>That done, they strolled on together the same path by +which Fred had come. The sun had dropped down behind +the hill, and the glowing tints had faded to purple-black +and indistinct grays. They wound around the hills, +and came up to the very gate where their last good-by had +been uttered. And Fred remembered then that this was +the first time Jack had shared the hospitality of Hope +Terrace, now when it was no longer his.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Milroy gave them some supper in a pretty little +apartment which had been the servants' parlor, and was +now hers. Then they went up to Fred's room, which had +been opened and aired. Some of its choicest belongings +had been taken away, but another than Fred would not +have remarked this. And here they renewed the remembrances +of the years that had fallen between.</p> + +<p>"It seems cowardly to come to you in trouble, and to +take so large a share of your sympathy again," Fred said +with his good-night. "But you always were so strong +and earnest."</p> + +<p>He went down to the mill the next day, and was much +interested in the working of Jack's plans.</p> + +<p>"You found your place," he said with a curious intonation, +as if he half envied the man before him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yet in all truth I should not have chosen this," Jack +answered with honest gravity. "But, when I found circumstances +would keep me here, I resolved to work +at it persistently and faithfully; and I learned in it the +larger lesson of the true dignity of labor. If I should +solve my problem successfully, I can ask no more. Five +years is a long while when you count the days," and he +smiled.</p> + +<p>"You will succeed, I know. You have just that mastery +over every thing."</p> + +<p>Jack finally persuaded Fred to come down to the well-remembered +cottage, and see his mother. Mrs. Darcy +would have welcomed her bitterest enemy if Jack had +desired her to.</p> + +<p>All this time Jack was thinking whether he could do his +old friend a good turn. He hated to offer him any subordinate +position in the mill. At present he could attend +to the book-keeping. Then he heard there was to be a +change at the paper-mills, and went over. They wanted +a clerk and foreman, one with taste enough to select +pretty designs, and who could keep books.</p> + +<p>"I do not know as you would like it, Fred," he continued +with some hesitation in his cheery tones.</p> + +<p>"I have been a dawdler long enough, and I have had a +bitter experience in finding <i>any thing</i> to do. I shall be +glad to take it, and you may believe I will try my best. +Many, many thanks for your kind interest."</p> + +<p>There had been a sharp, short struggle in Fred's soul. +He would rather have gone elsewhere, where he was not +known. But if fate had resolved to bring him back to +Yerbury, if she had offered him bread here, while it had +been stones elsewhere, he would certainly be a fool to +starve for pride's sake. Some wholesome ideas had found +lodgement in his brain, along with the Greek myths and +synthetic philosophies. If he could not astonish the world +with brilliant reasoning, he might at least get his own +living.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span></p> + +<p>He went back to the city, and discussed the project +with his mother and Irene. She had a tender longing for +her son: to be with him would afford her greater satisfaction +than the magnificence of her daughter's house. Irene +consented stonily. It was burying herself alive, but then +no one would torment her with hateful marriages. To +stay here with Agatha was simply unendurable.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Minor made no further comment than to say she +did not think her mother could be kept as comfortable. +Irene was her own mistress.</p> + +<p>So Fred Lawrence went back to Yerbury and work. It +was an altogether new undertaking. He had no business +training and no experience, except his desultory two +months in Bristol's office. Yet from the very first day +there was something that interested him here, although for +awhile the smells, the dust and disorder, half sickened +him. As for any wound to his pride, he felt that less +because the whole world seemed to have taken a general +overturn. Half of the elegant houses in the neighborhood +of Hope Terrace were for sale, and shut up. Expensive +country mansions to be used for a few summer months +were quite beyond present incomes. A month at the seaside +cost much less. Costly scientific, or rather unscientific +gardening,—since the true aim of science must be the +best adjustment of power to the desired result,—graperies, +green-houses, henneries standing empty, the money lavished +upon them so much waste material at present,—where +had the wealth gone to so suddenly? He could not +understand the rapid and wide-spread ruin. Even of themselves,—how +was it that for years there should be no +stint, but absolute wastefulness, and then nothing at all?</p> + +<p>He was so new to any business results, that he seemed +like a child groping in the dark. And here was Jack +Darcy, with his academy training merely, managing one +of the great problems of the day, taking hold manfully to +right the wrongs brought about by selfishness and utter<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span> +disregard for one's neighbor. Had Plotinus struck the +grand key-note when he said he "was striving to bring the +God within us in harmony with the God of the universe"? +For might there not be false gods within?</p> + +<p>He found he had not much time for abstruse speculations, +which was all the better for his mental health. +After enduring the dirt and disorder of the office for a +week, he set about remedying that. He might not be +able to regenerate the world, but he could make one little +room decent. The office-boy and the scrub-woman were +called in; the desks and shelves were cleared of the accumulation +of months, and presented quite an orderly +aspect. He found his hands blistered by the rough handling, +but the reward was a wholesome hunger and a good +night's sleep. Not quite as entertaining, perhaps, as a +scramble in the Sierras or the Alps, but productive of as +beneficial results.</p> + +<p>Then there was a home to be found. Living at Hope +Terrace on a thousand a year would hardly be possible, +even if it could be had rent free. So he asked Mrs. +Darcy's advice about the matter, and she proposed a +pretty cottage,—there were so many standing empty. It +seemed very queer to be counselling this proud, sad-eyed +young man, who a year or two ago had hardly deigned to +look at them. Yet, like Jack, she still held a tender feeling +for the pretty, enthusiastic boy she remembered.</p> + +<p>There had been in his mind a great struggle about +Sylvie. He knew now that she belonged to Jack. That +thorough manliness and integrity, that earnest, unflinching +soul, the rich, generous temperament that could be so +tender to weakness, so forgiving to wrong, was the soul +of her ideal hero. And he had dared to offer her his poor, +paltry affectation of love! Blinded by his own arrogant +self-esteem, he had spurned the pure pearl, and taken the +empty, glittering shell to her as the kind of treasure he +was satisfied to deal in.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span></p> + +<p>How thoroughly he despised himself! It was such a +keen, bitter humiliation! Not only that he had aspired to +her, but that he should have misrepresented and traduced +Jack, not from an overwhelming passion of jealousy,—that +might be pardoned,—but a shallow, overweening +vanity of wealth and position.</p> + +<p>"She shall see that I have learned to respect and honor +him!" he said to himself with an intensity of regret that +was very honest and real. "If I can never regain her +esteem, I shall at least try for my old place in his regard."</p> + +<p>They found a pretty, convenient cottage, quite on the +opposite side of Yerbury, suiting Fred much better than +to be near his old friends. The furniture was brought +over from the great house; and, though it had seemed but +odds and ends there, it was amply sufficient. Irene's +piano and some of the old family silver had been saved out +of the wreck, a few of the less expensive pictures, and +sufficient books to form quite a library. Fred really +enjoyed arranging and planning. It was quite a matter +of astonishment to him, that rules of art and harmony +were needed at every step: if he could not make them +remunerative in a written article, he could put them in +practice here.</p> + +<p>He kept much to himself, being busy in the office during +the day, and at home in the evening. He was sick of +society, of the world in general. He had met Maverick a +few times, but he shrank from strangers. Mrs. Darcy's +tender, unobtrusive motherliness, he enjoyed, but he did +not dare to accept much of it. The duties of his life were +marked out plainly before him, and he must not swerve +from the path. It was to be a kind of neutral tint, twilight +rather than sunshine; and the joys he might come +to long for, he must put away with a firm hand.</p> + +<p>The first of December every thing was in readiness for +his small household, even to the tidy housekeeper Mrs. +Darcy had found for him among her poor. Mrs. Lawrence<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span> +and Irene came in the promised train; and he met +them with a carriage and a multiplicity of wraps, although +it was a bright, pleasant day. His mother clung to him +with tremulous hands: he realized more than ever how +much she had broken in the past year,—very little older +than Mrs. Darcy if counted by years, but whole decades +if judged by every other point.</p> + +<p>Irene was cold and stately. She did not like coming +here,—neither did she like staying at Mrs. Minor's. +Wild thoughts had flooded her brain of going somewhere, +and under a new name making a mark in the world. She +had a fine voice, and a decided talent for histrionics, but +how to get to this place where fame and fortune would be +at her command? How to bridge across any chasm? +Nothing, she said to herself, but just stand helpless, and +see the great world go on, with no part nor lot in the +matter. If she must be buried alive, as well at Yerbury +as anywhere.</p> + +<p>There had never been any sentiment between her and +Fred; in truth, none of the Lawrence women ever were +given to sentiment. She walked into the little parlor with +the step of a queen, and gave a cool stare around.</p> + +<p>"I hope you will like it"—with some hesitation. +"There is your piano. And mother's room looks as it +did at the Terrace, with the exception of its being so +much smaller. And here is a library. Here is our dining-room—some +of the old engravings, you see."</p> + +<p>"Could I go to my room? Which is it, Fred?" and +his mother looked up with a weak, pleading smile.</p> + +<p>"Yes: let me carry you. You are so thin and light +now, and you must be fatigued after all this journey;" +and, taking her in his arms, he bore her up-stairs.</p> + +<p>It was a pleasant room over the parlor, with an alcove +toward the south, in which the mid-day sun was shining. +A bright fire burned in the grate: there were her own +easy-chairs, a bit of the carpet she had once chosen, the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span> +Persian rug she had admired so much when Fred first +sent it home, the bed with its snowy drapery, and little +ornaments with their familiar faces.</p> + +<p>"It is delightful," she said, still clinging to her son's +arm. "And I am to stay here with you? Agatha is +very good, of course; but I have always had my own +home, and if I did sign it away it was to save your poor +dear father. I don't see how things could have ended so, +only, if he had lived, it would all have been different;" +and she wiped away the tears that came so easily now.</p> + +<p>Fred put her in the chair nearest the fire, and began to +unfasten her wraps. He had been quite an expert in delicate +ways during his prosperity.</p> + +<p>"Your room is next—there," nodding his head to the +open doorway, and glancing up in his sister's immovable +face. "I hope I made my divisions rightly: I thought +you would like to be near mother."</p> + +<p>"It is all as well as it can be, I suppose," she answered +with weary indifference.</p> + +<p>There came to Fred Lawrence just then a painful sense +of want and loss, a far-reaching sympathy in something +that had never been, and now, when the outside glitter +was torn away, left life cold and barren. Was human +love so much?</p> + +<p>His mother went on in her weak, inconsequent way, +yet her foolish praise was very sweet to him. He had +been living such a lonely life for months, that even he +was grateful for something that looked like home, for a +woman's figure flitting about, and some voice beside his +own.</p> + +<p>The dinner-bell rang presently.</p> + +<p>"I ordered yours brought up here," said Fred; "and I +will have a little with you, then I must go back to the +office."</p> + +<p>"It is terrible, Fred! That you should have to"—</p> + +<p>"Dignify labor," and he laughed. "Mother dear, I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span> +was so thankful to get something to do! And I am proud +of making a home for you. Am I not your only son?"</p> + +<p>"But a clerk!" Some of the old Hope disdain spoke +out there. "I cannot bear to think of it—with all your +education and talents and genius. I wish you had found +some business. There is the five thousand dollars of the +life-insurance, you know; and you could take it, though +Agatha made me promise that I would not have it fooled +away in any thing. But I should be glad to have you use +it."</p> + +<p>Fred stooped suddenly, and kissed her on the forehead. +There <i>was</i> something in mother-love, after all.</p> + +<p>Just then Martha West came in with the tray. Fred +drew out the folding breakfast-table that his mother had +so often used, while he was introducing Martha to his +mother and sister. She courtesied, and proceeded to lay +the cloth and the dishes, and disappeared for the viands +themselves.</p> + +<p>"Is one woman expected to do all the work?" asked +Irene at length.</p> + +<p>"She thinks she can—with so small a family. Of +course I"—</p> + +<p>Irene raised her hand deprecatingly. "Spare me details," +she said. "It is very bitter to eat the bread of +dependence: I have learned that already."</p> + +<p>He made no answer. Mrs. Lawrence looked from one +to the other in helpless bewilderment, but Martha entered +again, and changed the troubled current.</p> + +<p>It was quite a picnic dinner. Irene unbent a little at +the sight of the rare china and beautiful old silver. She +supposed every thing had gone down in the whirlpool of +ruin, and that humiliation would be complete in delft and +plated ware. Then she ventured to glance around.</p> + +<p>Fred chatted gayly, making talk. It had not used to +be one of his accomplishments in his magnificent days +when women vied with each other in the delight of entertaining<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span> +him. It was pleasant to see his mother touch the +bell, and sit back in her chair while Martha brought in the +dessert.</p> + +<p>"And now I must go. Do not expect me much before +seven. I wonder if you will feel able to come down to +tea? Ah! there are the trunks, just in time. I will send +them up, and you will feel quite at home when you have +your belongings in place."</p> + +<p>Then he went back to his desk, and for the next two +hours was too busy to think. After all, there is nothing +like energetic employment to keep dismal forebodings out +of one's mind.</p> + +<p>But that evening after supper, when they had gathered +in the library, Mrs. Lawrence began to question him concerning +Hope Mills. Agatha had said some one had +started the business anew.</p> + +<p>Fred explained.</p> + +<p>"But how could the workmen do it alone? Your father +never trusted them, Fred; and I am sure my father had +trouble enough with them in his day! They were always +an ignorant, unreasonable set. Don't you remember how +they struck several years ago, and workmen had to come +from elsewhere? They must have some head. And who +found the money? Mr. Minor says they cannot possibly +succeed."</p> + +<p>Some time Fred would have to stand Jack Darcy on his +true pedestal. As well do it now, and have it over.</p> + +<p>"The project was Mr. Darcy's. I believe he had most +of the capital. It was very generous of him to risk it in +such times as these."</p> + +<p>Irene looked up from her moody contemplation of the +fire. A dull flush suffused her face.</p> + +<p>"Not Jack Darcy," she said,—"Sylvie Barry's great +hero."</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Sylvie Barry!" re-echoed Mrs. Lawrence, and she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span> +looked sharply at her son. "And she gave you up for +him! Who is he?"</p> + +<p>"He used to be in the mill," answered Irene, with all +her olden scorn. "His father was there also. And the +Darcys"—</p> + +<p>"The Darcys can boast as good blood as we!" exclaimed +Fred, his face in a sudden heat. "And Jack +Darcy is a gentleman by birth, by instinct, and, best of all, +the impulses of a true and noble heart."</p> + +<p>The discussion recalled an old remembrance to Mrs. +Lawrence. She looked vaguely at her son as if she were +not quite certain, as she said,—</p> + +<p>"Was there not something about him when you were +boys? He was coarse and rough, wasn't he? and Agatha +used to worry. I knew it was only a boy's folly; but she +was glad when you went to college, and I think—there +was his sister"—her maternal instincts taking alarm.</p> + +<p>"No, he never had a sister. His father died, and he +staid at home. His mother was delicate, and his grandmother +old. She is dead, and he gets his small fortune +from her. No, he was not coarse nor rude, but he was my +champion in boyhood, my hero then; and it is the shame +of my life that I should have let him drop out of it because +I was the richer of the two. I despise myself for +any thing so narrow and unmanly, and yet he was generous +enough to forgive. I do not wonder at Miss Barry's +choice when she contrasted us, and I honor her to-day +for her discrimination. She never encouraged me, blind, +idiotic fool that I was! and I have only my wretched +vanity to blame. He is fully worthy of her, and that is +the highest compliment I can pay him."</p> + +<p>"Very magnanimous for a rejected lover," commented +Irene with a touch of sarcasm.</p> + +<p>"But you <i>did</i> love Sylvie?" Mrs. Lawrence said, +bewildered by his rapid defence.</p> + +<p>"I blush now at the thought of having offered her such<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span> +a paltry regard. To me she will always be a sweet and +peerless woman. I am glad she will have the strength of +manhood to lean upon, the purity of its honor to trust, +the exceeding tenderness of a soul that will never know a +narrow or grudging thought, to confide in. All my years +look poor and barren beside his."</p> + +<p>"I can never forgive her"—</p> + +<p>"You must, you must!" and Fred seized his mother's +hand, pressing it to his lips. "There is nothing to forgive," +he went on. "You would not have had her throw +aside the love of her life for my fancied fortune that has +taken wings. It was my blunder. And I want to say +that I have taken up my old friendship for Jack Darcy, +come back to the truth that money is one of the incidental +surroundings of the man, but it can never be the man +himself."</p> + +<p>Irene's haughty lip curled, but no one openly gainsaid +Fred.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XVII.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> winter was a rather open one, with but little snow. +Matters were somewhat better in Yerbury, but bad enough, +Sylvie Barry thought. The churches began their usual +work,—parish aids, clothing-clubs, and sewing-societies. +It was as she said: they begged from the rich to give to +the poor. Women met to make or to alter over garments, +and devise means to render the poor more comfortable. +There were so many miserable homes, so many inefficient +wives and mothers, who were ignorant of the commonest +principles of economy. They could live on meal-mush, +they could go in rags, but the science of thrift was utterly +unknown in many instances.</p> + +<p>Sylvie had done her share of church work as a growing +maiden. Every year there had been some mission, and a +sewing-school.</p> + +<p>"And yet it doesn't seem to do much good," said she. +"The girls learn to hem a handkerchief, which a sewing-machine +can do in ten seconds: they sew a few patches +together, and perhaps make an apron. By the next winter +they have forgotten all about it. And some of their +mothers do not seem to care."</p> + +<p>"The mothers need educating," Miss Morgan began, +with a decisive nod of the head. "They were married +out of shops and factories, and know very little, and have +brought up their children to know less. I'm not one of +the kind who can see no good in the world's progress, +and who want to go back to the days of spinning-wheels, +wax polish for tables and chairs, and a day spent every<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span> +week scouring the brass andirons and candlesticks and +door-knobs, and various other matters; but I do think we +have gone to the other extreme. Women dawdle away +half their lives. It is of no use to make clothes, you can +buy them cheaper; it is of no use to mend, to do this or +that, and so they do nothing."</p> + +<p>"I was struck with a contrast I saw yesterday," returned +Sylvie. "I had occasion to go to the Webbers,—you +know the little cottage on Alden Street, Miss +Morgan, where they always have such pretty flowers in +the window. Mr. Webber works at satchel-making, and +even in good times did not earn very high wages. They +have a garden, in which they raise the most wonderful +succession of crops; they keep some chickens, which +they manage to have laying most of the time; and they +have five children. It was quite late in the afternoon. +Mrs. Webber sat by the window, making lace, on a +cushion, at which she realizes about a dollar a week; +Christine, the eldest girl, who still goes to school, was +crocheting a baby's hood,—she does a good deal of work +for Mrs. Burnett's fancy-store, and yet is a very smart +scholar; Amelie, the next one, was darning the stockings; +the boy, who comes third, was out-doors, tidying up the +chicken-house; and the two little girls were in the corner, +cutting and sewing patchwork, with a doll in the cradle between +them. The house is always clean, the children are +well and rosy, and play about a good deal, and Christine +last year earned thirty dollars. Her mother puts half the +money she earns in the bank for her marriage-portion. I +was so glad it wasn't in Yerbury Bank! You wouldn't +believe, that, though she is not quite sixteen, she has +almost a hundred dollars saved up. And I must tell you, +also, there was a most savory smell of the supper cooking. +Altogether, it was so tidy and thrifty, with the clean, +bright, and not unpretty faces, that I thought it would +make a charming 'interior,' if only some Dutch artist could<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span> +do justice to it in his minute, pains-taking way. Then I +went to the Coles, who live around in the next street. +The gate was off its hinges, and the two big boys were +firing stones from the street at a post in the yard. They +were ragged and dirty. I went in the house, and found +the mother and the two girls in the sitting-room. I do +not believe there was a piece of furniture whole, and every +thing was dusty and shabby, with that close smell some +people always have in their houses. Mrs. Cole sat by the +window, in a listless manner, doing nothing. Martha had +her baby on her lap, asleep, in a soiled and ragged dress, +while she was reading; the little girl, who is about twelve, +was cutting up some pretty pieces of silk into nothing, +that I could see, but a general litter over the table. The +kitchen looked dreadful. I had some baby-dresses for +Martha, that Mrs. Kent gave me: so I unrolled my +bundle, and displayed them. 'Oh,' said she, 'they are +long, aren't they! and I've just put my baby in short +dresses.' If you could have heard the kind of helpless, +dissatisfied tone in which it was uttered! I had half a +mind to bundle them up, and take them back. 'You +can shorten them,' I answered, 'and some of them will +make two dresses.' 'Yes,' she answered reluctantly, +'only I should want something for yokes and sleeves.' +Then her mother came to inspect them, and she was +rather more gracious. But I could not help contrasting the +two families. Mr. Cole is a carpenter, and has earned very +good wages. Martha ran a machine in the shoe-shop, +bought a melodeon, and took two or three quarters' music-lessons; +purchased a very handsome set of amethyst jewelry +and two pretty silk dresses when she was married. +And in the two years of her married life, her husband has +done next to nothing, although he is a steady, pleasant +fellow. Now he is at Pittsburg, earning just enough to +pay his own board. She has her sewing-machine, but she +doesn't know how to make any kind of garment decently.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span> +When they had money they bought every thing ready-made. +She paid Miss Gilman twenty-two dollars to make +her two silk dresses. If she had put one of them in some +plain, simple garments, how much more serviceable it +would have proved!"</p> + +<p>"Such people are hardly worth helping," Miss Morgan +said sharply.</p> + +<p>"Isn't it a faulty system that makes them so?" asked +Sylvie, drawing her brows into a little, perplexed frown. +"Martha worked for two years, and earned a good deal +of money. At one time she made ten dollars a week. It +was just one thing,—fine stitching on shoes,—yet one +would think she would understand a sewing-machine so +completely that she could do any thing with it. But she +actually hired part of her baby's wardrobe made; and +the dresses she bought,—cheap coarse-trimmed things, +I should have been ashamed of. Christine Webber wants +to study for a teacher; and, as there is so little for girls to +do, I think she will. She will make wiser investments of +her money than Martha Cole, and think of the kind of +wife her husband will get!"</p> + +<p>"The era of prosperity was too much for some people," +said Mrs. Darcy, with her motherly smile. "I used to +wonder six or seven years ago, how it was that so many +middle-class people could afford a servant, or fancy they +needed one. A little more time spent in household duties +would not have injured the women; and, if they had accustomed +the children to take a part, it would have been much +better for them. Then so much sewing was hired; and, +although the income looked large, the expenditures swallowed +it all up, and no one was any better off. How few +had any stock of underclothing, bed-linen, or useful and +durable articles!"</p> + +<p>"Industry must come around in the fashion again. +Even the despised patchwork doubtless had its uses. It +taught children to sew, and to manage economically. I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span> +remember that I once had three quilts on hand at one +time. The larger pieces went into the first, and so on. +My last one was a very pretty little thing, and I saved all +the scraps for it. Yet we often hear people laugh about +the folly of cutting calico into bits to sew together again. +Why should it not be considered honorable and respectable +to put every thing to the best use?" and Miss +Morgan glanced up with a confidence no one could gainsay.</p> + +<p>"That is the grand secret," cried Sylvie,—"making +economy honorable. You never see the nice old families +flaunting their best silk and their point-laces on ordinary +occasions. Something is kept sacred. And I do think +there is more real economy among them, than among +those who absolutely have a need for it. If wastefulness +could once come to be considered a sin of ostentation +and low-breeding, it would not have so many followers. +Some people do it because they are afraid of being +thought mean; but if they could be trained to that bravery +of spirit that makes a work of beauty out of the poorest +and smallest things because they are well done, and fitting +to the place and season"—</p> + +<p>"Bravo!" said a laughing voice as the door opened. +"Mrs. Darcy, when the committee of ways and means +have worn out your carpet by their frequent meetings in +your charmed temple, you must insist upon their buying +you a new one. Good-morning, ladies! Miss Barry, I +set out to find you; and your aunt fancied you would be +here, the place of all waifs and strays. I want you and +Miss Morgan to go and inspect a room, or rather two +rooms, to see if they will answer our purpose. Mrs. Lane +had a school there."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I know the place!" began Sylvie eagerly, buttoning +up her sack again, and looking smilingly in Dr. +Maverick's face, that had a sparkling wholesomeness born +of the fresh air and brisk walk. And whenever he caught<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span> +her eye with this light in it, so friendly and earnest, a +thrill sped through his veins.</p> + +<p>Miss Morgan was soon ready, and the three started. +The place was only a few squares away, in a block of +buildings where the stores on the lower floor stood empty; +indeed, some of them had never been rented. Up-stairs +there was one large room with three front windows, and a +smaller room at the back with a fireplace, sink and water, +and a large closet.</p> + +<p>"I have had the offer of this place rent free until +spring," began the doctor. "I have also collected fifty +dollars in money and provisions,—<i>imprimis</i>, one barrel +of flour, one box of miscellaneous packages, rice, barley, +corn-starch, &c.,—and a second-hand range that will be +put up as soon as you decide. In return for my arduous +exertion and great benevolence, I shall call upon you now +and then for meals or delicacies for my sick and famishing."</p> + +<p>"You are just magnificent!" declared Sylvie, in breathless +pleasure.</p> + +<p>"I am desirous of getting this experiment started; and, +since we shall have to help the poor and needy this winter, +I shall put my gifts into this. Now you must consider +what you want for furnishing. Biddy McKim is to work +out a doctor's bill cleaning the place; Ward Collins will +let you have ten dollars' worth of house-furnishing goods +on another bill. I am going to look up all my bad debts to +start you two women in business!" and he laughed gayly.</p> + +<p>"Very good," said Miss Morgan, while Sylvie's face +was still blending pleasure and astonishment.</p> + +<p>"We are going to reform Yerbury, you see. The parsons +tried their hands last winter; and, though there was +need enough of spiritual food, there's something else required +as well, while we are here in the body. You think +the rooms will do? I want you to put a large table in +that one,"—indicating the larger with his head,—"and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span> +we'll get two or three long benches, and have a tea-party +now and then. Well, Miss Morgan, now you may take +the floor. I see a crowd of ideas in your face."</p> + +<p>"I am going to propose that when the place is cleaned, +both floors shall be painted to begin with. Then a simple +mopping up will keep them bright and fresh. Some idle +half-grown boys can do it, I am sure; or I can do it myself—it +would not be the first time."</p> + +<p>"I'll look over my accounts, and levy on some delinquent," +said the doctor. "I like that idea."</p> + +<p>"Can we make out a list now?"</p> + +<p>"Why, of course. Put down about all the things you +will be likely to need, and I will have them sent if they +do over run the account. Biddy will come to-morrow, and +clean. Now, you can hardly have the school open every +day unless you get more assistance, so I think I should +take it at first two days in the week."</p> + +<p>"A very good suggestion," replied Miss Morgan.</p> + +<p>"It might not be sufficiently attended to warrant more +than that. My experience has been that nearly every +housekeeper considers herself a finished cook."</p> + +<p>Maverick laughed.</p> + +<p>They discussed necessary articles of kitchen paraphernalia, +and finally walked down to Collins's store, and made +their selection. Early the next morning Bridget McKim +was on the spot: the place was cleaned, the stove put in +place, the floor given one good coat of paint. Two days +after, the second one was added. Sylvie drew up a code +of regulations. The school would be open Tuesday and +Friday, all day. The dinner would be cooked and eaten; +the baking, and whatever was left over, divided among +the scholars to take home. Miss Morgan was elected +president, Miss Barry vice-president, a secretary, a treasurer, +and two in an advisory board. At each session two +ladies were to be present, and give instruction.</p> + +<p>Invitations were sent to all likely to be interested. Dr.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span> +Maverick used his strong influence wisely. The idea +amused some, others wondered how ladies like Miss Barry +knew about cooking and economy.</p> + +<p>"Let her undertake to live on the money we common +folk have, and she'll see!" exclaimed Mrs. Stixon. +"Our kind don't want to learn fussin' and fixin' of puddens +and pies and such like! Good for us if we can get +a mess of biled potatoes and bacon. My gals'll get along +athout any such larnin'."</p> + +<p>They opened one Friday morning with seven pupils; a +discouraging number, Sylvie thought, when she saw the +spacious room and the nice preparations. The bashful +girls sat in a little huddle, looking very much as if they +were afraid of being laughed at.</p> + +<p>Miss Morgan was equal to the occasion. She made a +short, sensible address, and hoped the girls who were +present would interest not only their companions, but their +mothers and friends. Then she questioned them a little. +Had they ever boiled potatoes?</p> + +<p>At this they all laughed a little foolishly, and looked as +if the art of boiling potatoes was held in rather low +esteem.</p> + +<p>"The dinner for the day," announced Miss Morgan, +"will be boiled potatoes, broiled steak, and corn-muffins. +Which of you girls would like to try the muffins?"</p> + +<p>"I never heerd of such a thing," said one girl timidly.</p> + +<p>Sylvie pleasantly corrected the speaker.</p> + +<p>"Well, you may try," said Miss Morgan. "First, +read this recipe aloud."</p> + +<p>Mary Moran stumbled through it, partly owing to +ignorance, and the rest to feeling very much abashed.</p> + +<p>"Please go through it again, Mary," said Sylvie, in +an encouraging tone.</p> + +<p>This time she did much better.</p> + +<p>"Now you may prepare the table and the dishes, and +one of the girls may measure the meal and the flour. Put<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span> +the ingredients in this dish—so. Keep your mind on the +recipe. What comes next?"</p> + +<p>Mary was quite awkward. Miss Morgan corrected the +slightest mistake. The other girls stood around in wondering +amusement, and now and then a little titter broke +out. But Mary went on, gaining courage. The tins had +been set on the stove, now a bit of butter was put in each +one, and stirred around, then the dough dropped in. This +was quite entertaining.</p> + +<p>"What did I say about the oven?" queried Miss +Morgan.</p> + +<p>The class looked aghast a moment, then one girl said +quickly, "That the oven-door must be hot enough to +hiss."</p> + +<p>"Right. Try it and see."</p> + +<p>It was in the proper condition. Mary slipped in the +two trays of pans, shutting up the door. "To look at +them, and turn them around in twelve minutes, and in +twelve more to try them with a whisk," were the final +directions.</p> + +<p>The potatoes were brought out next. Miss Morgan +asked each girl to pare one, which they did in various +uncouth ways. One girl cut off the skin in square bits, +leaving a figure that would have distracted a geometrician; +another ran round it rapidly, leaving in all the eyes; +and out of the six potatoes there was but one neat and +shapely. Miss Morgan held it up.</p> + +<p>"There is an art in so slight a thing as peeling a +potato," said she. "It is very wasteful to cut it away +in this manner, or this, and careless to leave in the eyes. +Now each of you may pare another."</p> + +<p>The second attempt was a great improvement. They +were put on to boil; one girl was detailed to watch them, +another to prepare the steak, while a third arranged the +dinner-table in the kitchen, as the family was to be so +small. Mary looked after her corn-muffins. They had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span> +risen up like little pound-cakes, and a glad smile illumined +her rather stolid face.</p> + +<p>Sylvie had brought a bit of tatting along, and now took +it out.</p> + +<p>"Oh, how beautiful, Miss Barry!" exclaimed Kitty +Miles. "I can do just the plain little scallop; but I +never could get these other jiggers!"</p> + +<p>Sylvie laughed, "I believe they have a name beside +'jiggers,'" in an odd, half-inquiring tone.</p> + +<p>"O Miss Barry, we girls can't talk nice like you!" +and Kitty blushed.</p> + +<p>"I don't see why you cannot with taking a little pains. +All words that are not names, and 'what-you-may-call-it,' +and 'Mrs. Thingumby,' and such expressions, are the result +of carelessness. If any thing has a name, that is +the proper word to be used; and by being watchful one +comes presently to talk in a lady-like manner. Now I +will show you about these."</p> + +<p>"Oh, my muffins!" cried Mary, rushing to the stove. +They were quite brown. She tried them with the whisk.</p> + +<p>"Some stick a little bit, Miss Morgan."</p> + +<p>"Push the pan back to the other side. Indian requires +very thorough cooking or baking, or it will be +soggy, and have a moist and not agreeable taste. Try +your potatoes now."</p> + +<p>In a few moments they were done, and Kitty Miles +undertook the steak. Mary let her muffins stand a +moment or two, then turned them out. Two or three +stuck fast, and broke: the rest were a perfect success. +She was delighted beyond measure. They had no tea or +coffee, but they gathered around the table, and enjoyed +the meal very heartily. Sylvie desired them to ask any +questions they liked; and by the time they were through, +their awe of Miss Morgan had quite vanished.</p> + +<p>Afterward followed dish-washing. This was made +quite a science, as well. They had hardly finished when<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span> +Mrs. Miles and a neighbor came in, and through the +course of the afternoon the numbers doubled. Mary +begged that they might make some muffins to take +home: Miss Morgan assented, and the girls had quite a +gay time. But the oven was not precisely right.</p> + +<p>"Open the draughts a little. Although not so hot, the +oven is very steady now. Close the draughts in five +minutes."</p> + +<p>Mary forgot, and the result was that some at one end +were a little burned.</p> + +<p>"Why, they're elegant!" exclaimed Mrs. Miles. +"And what a cheap, hearty supper they'd make, when +one has three hungry boys to feed! Mrs. Stixon, now, +was thinking you'd go into all the fancy branches. I +didn't know ladies ever"—and Mrs. Miles paused suddenly, +her face scarlet.</p> + +<p>"Ever had occasion to practise economy!" cried +Sylvie with her piquant smile. "They do a great deal +of it, Mrs. Miles. My aunt would no sooner think of +being wasteful in her kitchen than she would of wearing +her velvet dress out on a rainy day. There is a neat, +pretty, tasteful method about these things, that is as much +of an art in its way as painting a picture, and in some +respects a more important one, for the health of the body +depends upon well-cooked food."</p> + +<p>"Since Kitty's nothing much to do, I mean to have her +come every time. I'm sure you ladies are very good to +take so much pains."</p> + +<p>The other officers dropped in. The cost of the materials +used was ascertained, minutes of the session made, +and a recipe for corn-muffins given to each girl. It was +decided to attempt biscuit on the following Tuesday, and +on the next meeting, bread. Then the fire was pretty +well poked out, the stove-lids raised, and the class went +home in an extremely interested spirit.</p> + +<p>Just as Sylvie and Miss Morgan had turned the corner,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span> +they caught sight of Dr. Maverick, who crossed the street +to speak. Sylvie described their day with a few graphic +touches, interspersed with much genuine mirth.</p> + +<p>"Some people were afraid to come," said he. "Before +a month you will have your hands full."</p> + +<p>Sure enough, on Tuesday there were fifteen scholars. +Miss Morgan and Sylvie had hardly a moment to spare +until the dinner was through. Then the latter proposed +that every scholar should bring some sewing, garments +they wished cut out, any thing that perplexed them, or +whatever they would like most to learn.</p> + +<p>All days were not so fortunate. Occasionally some dish +would be spoiled by haste, carelessness, or want of attention. +There were burned fingers and divers cuts; but +Miss Morgan patiently explained her deft, neat, labor-saving +methods. There began to be a great interest; +some of the mothers coming in for an hour, or bringing a +special dish to cook. Sylvie discussed the relative value +and nourishment of different articles, the many changes +that could be made at slight expense, the saving that a +little carefulness brought about. She gave brief lectures +on cleanliness, order, taste, and neatness; the right way +and the wrong way of doing many things, the giving out +and the taking in; the art of making the best, not only in +such times as these, but in all times; of being brave and +true in the lowest and smallest of life's duties; of throwing +out false pride and shams, and the desire to appear +richer or grander than one's means would allow.</p> + +<p>Then the last half-hour they had what Miss Morgan +called an inquiry-meeting. Everybody was at liberty to +ask one question, and those who knew answered it to the +best of their ability. New teachers were pressed into the +service. Dr. Maverick gave them a talk on health, and +another on preparing food for the sick, and the special +care some diseases required. And Jack Darcy proposed +that Christmas Eve the cooking-school should give a supper,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span> +the tickets being at the low price of twenty-five cents. +Every dish was to be cooked by the scholars.</p> + +<p>It created a deal of excitement. Hard as times were, +the tickets sold rapidly. The large room had two long +tables, with benches for seats. The first table was to be +served at eight o'clock, the second at nine. Sylvie made +a dozen of the girls pretty Suisse aprons and dainty caps, +and they waited on the guests. Dr. Maverick offered +three prizes,—one for the best loaf of bread, one for the +best plain cake, and a third for the nicest and cheapest +invalid broth.</p> + +<p>The room was full, and they had a very gay time. Indeed, +it seemed as if half Yerbury turned out, either +from honor or curiosity. At nine o'clock they ran short +of provision, when they honorably decided to refund the +money for all tickets offered after that, and explain to +new-comers the state of affairs. But some of the young +men proposed a dance; and they went on for the next +two hours in hearty, healthy jollity.</p> + +<p>Out of ten loaves of bread offered, Mary Moran took +the prize. That for the cake was awarded to quite a new +scholar; while Kitty Miles carried off that for broth, three +doctors concurring in the decision. And the treasurer +found they had cleared fifty dollars above expenses, so +that it proved a success in more ways than one. There +had been a great dearth of amusement for the poorer +classes in Yerbury this winter.</p> + +<p>"Sure, it was just splendid!" said Bridget McKim. +"My boy Mike had a week's wages in his pocket that +night, and he was goin' off to the Ivy Leaf to raffle for a +turkey; an' ses I, 'Mike, ye niver took me out of a Christmas, +so do it now along o' the cookin' school party, an' +ye'll get the best bit o' turkey yes ever put in yer mouth.' +An' so he did; an' he said it was the best show he iver was +to, and he wouldn't 'a' missed seein' Mary Moran get the +prize fur twice the money. An' so he went home with me,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span> +ye see, as sober as an owl, and we bought our own turkey; +but if he'd gone to the tavern, not a cint would he had of +his week's wages, and been drunk beside! An' he used +to be swate on Mary too, so there's no knowin' what may +happen!"</p> + +<p>The school took a fortnight's vacation. Sylvie and +Miss Morgan felt that it was no longer an experiment. +It would be put to wider uses, and perhaps was the corner-stone +of a great work, sorely needed in this world; +the same kind of work Jack Darcy had begun over in the +mill yonder,—planting beacon-lights on the path where +so many had stumbled and gone down for want of true +and honest guidance.</p> + +<p>"It will have to be remodelled somewhat," said Miss +Morgan. "I can't have you working like a slave, even +if it is in a good cause. There is something still higher +for you."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XVIII.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">After</span> the first of January it came off bitterly cold. +Coal went up half a dollar on a ton; and flour rose, +more by the greed of speculators than any scarcity, or +any demand for it abroad. There was considerable suffering, +though not as much as the winter before. The men +and women and boys and girls at Hope Mills were thankful +enough for their seventy-five per cent, and did their +very best. A spirit of economy and emulation ran +through the whole brotherhood. Every month Cameron +announced whatever saving had been made in different +departments, and the hands were proud enough of it. +Those who had taken their whole winter's coal out of the +share were quite jubilant. Once a week the workmen had +a meeting, and discussed matters a little. Three men had +been reprimanded, but on the whole the <i>morale</i> was excellent. +Winston was on the alert continually, east, west, +anywhere, buying here, selling there, seeing in every thing +the promise of better times.</p> + +<p>"We've reached the last ditch as surely as they did in +the war," he said to Darcy, rubbing his hands in great +glee. "I tell you, old chap, it was a lucky thought of +starting just as we did. You see, we shall come up with +the good times; for I do honestly believe the worst is +over."</p> + +<p>Jack smiled, but was not so sanguine. They had only +gone such a little way on the five-years' journey. But +there were some very encouraging rays right around them. +Kit Connelly's coffee-house was working to a charm<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span>. +Jack began to think that drinking liquors was not so +much a besetting sin, as a natural sequence of having +nothing else to drink when you were cold or hot, or tired +or hungry. The men fell into the habit of going to Kit's +for their midday lunch, and presently some of the women +went over. The room was so bright and pleasant; and, +with Miss Rose there, they were on their best behavior. +In the evening Mrs. Connelly brought her work, and sat +by the desk. Some of the younger men, who had no +homes; as one may say, dropped in, and looked over the +books. Once two young chaps had come up from Keppler's +to have a little fun, as they said, and were rather +noisy. Mrs. Connelly rose.</p> + +<p>"Gentlemen," she said, "you forget yourselves. This +is an orderly, quiet house, not a tavern. If you cannot +submit to the rules, you must leave it."</p> + +<p>"Leave it! Come, who'll put us out!" laughed the +bully. "Let's see you try," with an insolent leer at the +lady.</p> + +<p>Two men were sitting at a table just a little back of +them. Their eyes met. Both rose; and, each seizing a +shoulder of the bully, he was marched out before he could +make the slightest resistance, his companion looking on +in amazement.</p> + +<p>"Next time you insult a lady in her own house, you +will not get off so easily! Just bear that in mind."</p> + +<p>The fellow uttered an oath, but the door was shut in his +face.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, John Kelly, and you, Ben Hay," said +Mrs. Connelly, in a brave voice, though her heart fluttered +a little.</p> + +<p>The other young ruffian rose, and walked out quietly.</p> + +<p>"If you didn't mind, Ben Hay," she said, an hour or +so after, as they were shutting up for the night, "I'd +like to have you drop in quite often of an evening. The +boys are hardly big enough if we should ever be beset by<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span> +such scamps as that, and you've always been so friendly-like."</p> + +<p>"Yes," answered Ben, flushing, and casting a sheepish +look at the desk, where Rose's curly head was bent over +her accounts. "Yes, I'm at your service. It's enough +sight cheerfuller here than in Mother Mitchell's boarding-house. +I'll be glad to come."</p> + +<p>"Thank you."</p> + +<p>Miss Barry heard of this, and told it over to Jack.</p> + +<p>"Ben Hay is a good, plucky fellow. He used to go +down at noon for beer, but I do not think he has been +since the coffee-house was opened. Sylvie, do you know, +I believe reformers in general would be more successful if +they put a good and pleasant thing in the place of the +evil they assail. Too often they leave their convert to +pick his way alone. Hay is very much interested in the +plans of the mill. The meetings have done this much +already,—a spirit of inquiry has been awakened in some +of the men, and they are reading up what other people +have achieved in this line. I want them to get well +grounded before there comes any strain. We can't go +on prospering forever. That would be too much like +fairy-land."</p> + +<p>"But every one thinks the panic nearly at an end," +and Sylvie studied the grave face before her.</p> + +<p>"I do not want to croak," and Jack gave a little laugh +that sounded forced, "but we have just begun to pay off +our debts. Every city and town, and nearly every individual, +is in debt. If we could pay with promises to pay, +we might tide over a while longer; but when interest +reaches a certain point, it swallows capital. If we can +meet our indebtedness everywhere, as fast as it matures, +well and good: if not, then we have only nibbled at the +crust of our bitter pie."</p> + +<p>"Anyhow," cried Sylvie, with the woman's sanguine +nature, "Yerbury is a great deal better off than it was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span> +last winter. Every one admits there is much less suffering."</p> + +<p>"There is more employment, and no broken bank," +with a cheerful smile.</p> + +<p>"Do you know," said the young girl presently, while a +faint color went wandering over her fair face, "that they +are doing a marvellous stroke of business at Garafield's, +even if the times are bad? Mrs. Garafield was down to +tea a few evenings since, and she was greatly encouraged. +There is such a rage about the new style of papering. +Everybody has run mad on dados and friezes, and fresco +patterns, bordering, and harmonies of color," laughingly. +"And they have some wonderful new designs."</p> + +<p>"Fred is in just the right place. If he has courage +to fight through," and there came a curious, almost foreboding +expression in the sympathetic eyes.</p> + +<p>"You care a good deal for him, Jack! And yet he +did not use you nobly," with a peculiar regret in the tone. +"It is the one thing"—</p> + +<p>"Sylvie, if I forgave it, surely you can." Then he +turned his eyes upon her, and read or rather dreamed of +something in a dim, dazed way, the story of a bygone +summer. Had it been more to her than any one thought? +Miss Barry had hinted to his mother that Sylvie's decision +in the matter was a great disappointment to her. There +had been a decision, then, and one adverse to Fred Lawrence.</p> + +<p>"I hate a false and cowardly man!" her cheeks were +flaming now. "And when you were schoolboys together,—when +Agatha and Gertrude were so afraid he would +lower himself if he looked at any boy below his own +social position,—he used to stand up for you,—yes, +he did,—and fight; of course not in a brutal way with +fists," and she laughed at her own conceit, "but in that +higher, finer manner, with no shield or weapon save his +love for you. I used to like to see you together,—you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span> +so sturdy and manful and true, and he delicate and handsome +and adoring. And then"—</p> + +<p>"Sylvie, I wonder if a woman can understand a man's +friendship. We never had any quarrel. We just drifted +apart. I don't believe we forgot each other. Circumstances +took him out of my sphere, into a new one. If I +had been there in college, going along with him step by +step, don't you suppose he would have stood up for me in +the face of his fine friends, just as he used to with his +sisters?"</p> + +<p>"I hope so: I would like to believe it."</p> + +<p>"I am more just to him than you, Sylvie," said Jack, a +little wounded. "I <i>know</i> it. I don't doubt it any more +than I doubt—well, myself. He might have come—I +was always sorry to see him avoid me, and I think he was +weak, but he never forgot."</p> + +<p>"He <i>was</i> weak, he was worse, Jack." There was a +curious cry of anguish in her voice, and her shoulders +swayed unconsciously, while her eyes looked out on the +summer night he could not see.</p> + +<p>"Don't get so excited over it, Sylvie," and the pleasant, +cheery laugh seemed to bring healing on its wings. +"Whatever it was, and we will let all that go, he made +the <i>amende honorable</i> the night we had tea together up +there in the great house. We took up our friendship just +where it had dropped. Men never go over those crooked +and thorny steps of the past, they have so much work to +do in the present and the future. I wanted then to make +a position for him in the mill; but it was not possible, and +would not have been the part of wisdom under <i>any</i> circumstances. +Yet it seemed as if I had stepped in his +place. I was glad to hear of this other, though Fred +would have been happier elsewhere. Sylvie, I do not +believe you realize what it cost him to come back to Yerbury, +to walk about, a working-man, where he had driven +in his carriage. So down at the bottom there is the temper +of the real blue steel, which <i>can</i> bend."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span></p> + +<p>"How generous you are, Jack!" There was something +more than admiration in her tone, and yet she was wondering +if she could ever forgive her fallen hero.</p> + +<p>"See here, Sylvie, I don't mean to question any one's +religion, but I've often thought about the rejoicing up +above, over the one who went astray. I do not believe we +rejoice with a very full heart: maybe we are not heavenly +enough. We can never be sure of our own strength until +some far-reaching test is applied, and yet it may not be +an entirely true test. It may quiver about the weak spot +in our souls; but, while there is any feeling, one cannot be +entirely lost. That is why I say he never forgot. And +you and I ought to rejoice that he <i>did</i> come back instead +of going off in that gloomy, diseased, Manfred style, and +upbraiding the world. 'Whatever his hand found to do'—that +was one of grandmother's texts, and he went +bravely at it."</p> + +<p>"I do believe you are a better Christian than I," she +answered softly, her eyes limpid with emotion.</p> + +<p>"No. Perhaps not even a better friend;" and a smile +played about his mouth.</p> + +<p>"A truer friend, a more generous one"—</p> + +<p>"What were we talking of?" in a sudden change of +tone. "Oh, the business at Garafield's! Fred is a good +deal of an artist, an intellectual artist I should say; and, +though he may not attain to fame by painting pictures, +there are many other points coming to be appreciated. +He is in the way for usefulness; and, if he wins the bays +for beauty as well, I am sure we shall all rejoice. I heard +he had been designing."</p> + +<p>"You hear every thing." Sylvie made a capricious +little <i>moue</i>. Her nods and gestures were so much a part +of her, so piquant, decisive, and full of expression, when +she did not intrench herself behind a studied dignity.</p> + +<p>"I am glad you have heard it. I was wondering how +best to tell you. I thought Garafield's might be a stepping-stone,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span> +these hard times, but it may prove the veritable +ladder itself. Only"—</p> + +<p>"Well!" with a trifle of impatience, as if she could +not endure the suggestiveness of the tone.</p> + +<p>"I wonder if you understand the courage it took for +Fred Lawrence to make a home here in Yerbury, to bring +his mother and sister; for you see he must endure for them +as well as himself. Mrs. Lawrence will always be an +invalid, I suppose. He thinks her quite changed and +softened: evidently she clings to him. They see none of +their old friends. Miss Lawrence never goes anywhere."</p> + +<p>"As if one could help that!" almost passionately. +"Auntie wrote a note to Mrs. Lawrence, and it was merely +answered. They do not desire to receive any one. We +can only let them alone, Jack."</p> + +<p>"Even then we can hardly fail to appreciate what he is +doing, possibly suffering. I think he will come in time to +win back all the regard his friends ever gave him," Jack +Darcy said in a steady tone.</p> + +<p>Was he pleading for him? Sylvie was somewhat puzzled, +the most so, perhaps, about herself. How much had +she cared for Fred in that old time? If not at all, why +did this feeling of shame over a fallen idol continually +haunt her? She compared the two men in every thing, +and sometimes was vexed to admit that Jack was the +nobler.</p> + +<p>Their walk had come to an end. They paused at the +gate; and a third person striding up Larch Avenue took +in the drooping, attentive, and pliant figure, the strong, +protecting, powerful personality of the other,—and wondered, +as he had more than once before. Were they +friends merely? It was not possible for a woman to see +so much of Jack Darcy's noble, manly life, and not admire, +not love, Dr. Maverick admitted. She showed in +many ways that she did care for him. Oddly enough she +sheltered herself under his friendly care when other admirers<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span> +came too near. Could not Darcy see! What a +blind, stupid mole he must be in this respect! and the +doctor kicked a stone in his path with such force that the +two turned in the midst of their good-bys, and waited with +smiling faces for him to reach them. Not a shade of +annoyance in look or tone at the interruption.</p> + +<p>"The queerest lovers," he thought to himself. "If I +stood in that man's place"—</p> + +<p>Jack went homeward in a curiously speculative mood. +He has always fancied for Sylvie some handsome, spirited +knight, whose mental intuitions would be as delicate and +refined as hers, whose enjoyment as intense. Little as he +knew of love, he understood their friendship too thoroughly +to be betrayed into any mistake. And he wondered +now if he held the key to Sylvie's spiritual enfranchisement +of all other men? If she had not loved Fred Lawrence, +she had come too dangerously near it ever to free +herself entirely from whatever thrall his soul had thrown +over hers. She <i>had</i> been disappointed in him, he read +that from her tone; but surely, if he brought himself up +to a finer and truer standard than any known in that enervating +atmosphere of luxury, would she still be implacable? +How could he best serve these two people, whom he +loved so entirety?</p> + +<p>He had many other things to busy himself about beside +love and friendship. March came on apace, and the +balance-sheet for the six months had to be put in shape. +The accounts had been systematically kept: that he had +insisted upon in the beginning. Cameron knew every +gallon of oil, every pound of wool, every penny spent for +repairs and stock; Hurd and Yardley had kept account +of every yard of cloth, and what quality, that had passed +through their hands; Winston, of travelling, advertising, +commissions, &c.; and Jack went over every thing. They +had done wonderfully. There was actually a balance of +profit to every man, woman, and child. The forms were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span> +printed, and distributed to every employee, and there was +a great rejoicing time. They engaged the Cooking Club +to provide them a supper, and the young people had a +merry dance afterward.</p> + +<p>"It's hardly safe to halloo until you are out of the +woods," said some of the solid old men of Yerbury, who +were living snugly on the interest of government-bonds. +"Six months is no test at all. Wait until there is a hard +pull, and you will not be so jubilant."</p> + +<p>"No," answered Jack with a humorous twinkle in his +eye: "it's right to have the rejoicing now, when we have +fairly earned it. The man who croaks when Providence +has smiled upon him, deserves the frown; and he who is +unthankful for small successes hardly has a right to great +ones. I do not expect all fair sailing, but we will weather +the storms together."</p> + +<p>"It <i>is</i> rather unfortunate," commented another wise-acre. +"I have observed these wonderful beginnings +seldom end well. If you should have a run of bad luck +now, your men will be dissatisfied, and likely blame you +for not keeping up to that mark. I shouldn't have made +such a great effort, and then there would have been a +chance for improvement."</p> + +<p>"A new broom sweeps clean, but it <i>will</i> get worn out," +with sundry mysterious nods.</p> + +<p>"I declare," said Jack to his friend and comforter, +Maverick, "half the town looks at me as if I must have +robbed a bank, or falsified accounts, told a lie, or cheated, +or maybe murdered some rich old don, and made merry +on his money. Why can't people rejoice with you when +there is any thing to rejoice about,—an event which +does not happen so often in these evil days? I do believe +Boyd, and a lot of the others, would be glad to see the +scheme fail; but I'll work night and day to make a success +of it. It shall not go down," and Jack set his lips +together in a way that spoke volumes for his resolve.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I have observed before that some people are fond of +disparaging plans that they have no hand in," returned +the doctor coolly.</p> + +<p>"And philanthropy is a much-derided virtue. If the +old Athenian had been a stock-broker or a bank-director, +he might not have been sent into exile, eh?" and Darcy +laughed good-humoredly. "If I have kept a few people +from starvation this winter, I ought surely to have as +much credit as to have dealt around alms. As for the +success, we had the reputation of Hope Mills in our favor, +and every man had his own fortune at stake, and brought +out the best that was in him."</p> + +<p>He sent Miss McLeod her half-yearly rent, a copy of +the statement, and a very temperate letter. He was quite +proud to think he had no need of accepting her proffered +favor, but he thanked her again for it.</p> + +<p>She answered promptly. She had shown the statement +to Mr. Hildreth, and he thought it remarkable. Wasn't +it a trifle too rose-colored to last? Count on her as a +friend, if evil days came; and we none of us could tell +exactly what was in store. The financial horizon was by +no means clear.</p> + +<p>A few others gave him words of heartfelt encouragement. +The Rev. Mr. Marlow spoke of him in very high +terms, much to Sylvie's delight, and said already there +had been a great change in the mill-hands. The coffee-house +he considered an especially commendable thought.</p> + +<p>There was a quiet change going on that was destined to +bear more abundant fruit in the future. Some of the men +and women had begun to think a little for themselves. +The pupils of the cooking-school were beginning the +A B C of beauty and neatness. Their rooms were swept +cleaner; their clothes took on a more tidy aspect. With +the opening spring, gardens and court-yards were cleared +of their rubbish, and flower-beds flourished again. Sylvie +gave her girls one very instructive lecture on slips and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span> +flower-seeds, and one Saturday they went out to the woods +for ferns and wild flowers. It was only one little corner, +to be sure, but it was the leaven that was presently to do +a wide-spread work.</p> + +<p>Hope Mills took up its steady march again. Half a +dozen new hands were added, though Jack wished that he +could find employment for some of the poor souls that +besieged him daily. If times really were coming better, +if orders only would increase, and he could with safety +enlarge his borders! But "slow and steady" was his +motto. He was not one to disparage the present by exaggerating +the advantages of the future.</p> + +<p>There was one home that these cordial little excitements +never entered. The three souls in it, although they should +have been very near and dear, wrapped themselves in +their own thoughts and sorrows, and took no note of their +fellows.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Lawrence heeded the outward change least of the +three. She had her pretty room, her glowing fire in +winter, her fur slippers, and zephyr shawls; her late +breakfast in bed, then her luxurious dressing-gown, and +her books. She had settled herself into the <i>rôle</i> of an +invalid for the remainder of her days. The loss and +suffering had not taken her out of herself, or raised her +narrow, vapid nature. She was at once patient and complaining,—even +her affection for her son was combined +with great mental and moral weakness. She was profoundly +grieved that he should have been compelled to +accept so unsuitable a position; but to her it was only +a temporary event. Something <i>must</i> happen. In some +mysterious way they would come back to their former +grandeur,—not that she cared especially, but for the +sake of Fred and Irene. Then for days she would lose +herself in the joys and sorrows of her heroines. To such +people novel-reading is certainly a godsend. A readable +book was as exhilarating to her as a splendid morning<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span> +drive or a good deed is to many others. She had society +without being bored. She had wit, poetry, art, music, +travels, dinners, and balls, with no worry, no late hours, +or fatigue.</p> + +<p>Irene could not so yield up her personality. She +brooded over her lot in a haughty, bitter spirit. She uttered +no complaint,—she was far too proud for that,—but +she took no interest in any thing. Like a melancholy +ghost she wandered up and down, or sat by the window +for hours in a listless attitude. There were moments +when she wished herself Lady Frodsham, times when the +change and bustle of such a life as that of Mr. Barringer +would have been heaven itself.</p> + +<p>Fred could never persuade her to go anywhere. She +took no walks, except to pace up and down the garden +path when the quiet of the house drove her well-nigh +crazy. Once in a great while she opened the piano, and +played as if a demon had taken possession of her soul +and her fingers.</p> + +<p>Fred breakfasted early and alone. After a while he +fell into the habit of taking his lunch in his office, and +coming home to a late dinner. Martha was certainly the +perfection of maids. The housekeeping went on with the +regularity of clockwork: there were no complaints even. +Fred used to sit in his mother's room until her bedtime, +when he would go down to the library, and work for an +hour or two.</p> + +<p>The utter dearth of interest would have been terrible to +him but for his business. At first he preserved a wide +and punctilious distance between himself and Mr. Garafield. +He was the employer, to be sure; but then Fred +Lawrence had a dignity of his own to maintain. One +day, however, the dignity suffered a collapse. Mr. Garafield +brought in some new designs, and they lapsed into +an exceedingly entertaining art discussion. The employer +had excellent taste, trained and shaped by practical experience:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span> +Fred possessed the wider mental reach and +exquisite perception of harmony and color, the sentiment +of genius.</p> + +<p>"Why do you not take up the idea, Mr. Lawrence?" +asked his employer. "House finishing and furnishing is +fast coming to be a fine art. An intelligent, harmonious +beauty is demanded. We are leaving behind the complacency +of mere money in our adornments, and asking for +something that evinces thought and refinement. I am +sure you could succeed if you once set about the work."</p> + +<p>The compliment touched Fred profoundly, roused him +to a new venture. He practised his almost lost art of +designing to some purpose: he wrote two or three art +essays that happened to find much more favor than his +abstruse philosophies. After all, he was young, and the +whole world lay before him. Surely he could carve out +some kind of fortune. The light of earnest endeavor +shone in his eyes, the languid step quickened into one +of courageous elasticity. He had dawdled away years +enough: he would put a purpose into his manhood, that +some distant eyes, seeing, might not relegate him entirely +to the regions of contempt.</p> + +<p>"There's quite a good deal in that young Lawrence," +declared Phil Maverick decisively. "I was in at Garafield's +the other evening, and, I must confess, listened to a +fine art lecture. All about wall-papering, too!" with a +genial laugh. "What an education that fellow has! +Couldn't he find any thing to do, that he must drop down +upon a paper-factory? I am sure I should have made a +big fight out somewhere in the great world."</p> + +<p>"'Beyond the Alps lies Italy,'" quoted Jack. "Not +on the top, you observe, but perhaps in the valley. I +wish you would be a little friendly with him, Maverick: +you couldn't help but like him."</p> + +<p>"There is more in him than I gave him credit for. I +thought at the time of his father's death I had never seen<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span> +so useless a fine gentleman, with all the stamina educated +out of him. I had half a mind to turn him over to Aunt +Jean and Miss Lothrop."</p> + +<p>Darcy laughed absently, and Maverick saw that his +mind had wandered elsewhere. How odd that these two +should be friends! Maverick could not discern the fine +bond uniting them.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XIX.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Summer</span> came on apace. The Cooking Club took a +vacation, or rather turned into a gardening club, and studied +the sensible part of botany and floriculture. People +began to look at the waste land lying about, with envious +eyes. Here and there some one started a garden, or +indulged in a flock of chickens. The Webbers traded +their snug cottage for a place on the outskirts of the town, +with two acres of ground, which they improved rapidly. +Men who had sold farms, and spent the money in vain +business speculations, looked back regretfully, and in +some instances hired where they had been proprietors. +There was no money to be realized in farming, but if one +could even make a living! No one was making money +but those lucky fellows at Hope Mills. Of course that +was a bubble, and would burst presently; but doubtless it +was good while it lasted.</p> + +<p>Miss Barry, Sylvie, and Mrs. Darcy went away to a +pleasant, quiet seaside resort. Miss Barry appeared to be +ailing a little. Mrs. Minor so far relented as to invite +her mother and Irene to spend two months with her at +Long Branch. Mrs. Lawrence consented, Irene refused +flatly. "She had no money to spend for dress, and she +would accept no one's charity," she declared in her +haughty way. But she could not stay in the house forever: +so she took long walks over wild country ways, +angry with the world, herself, and every thing. A fierce-eyed, +beautiful girl, clinging desperately to her isolation, +and yet eating out her very heart in loneliness.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span></p> + +<p>The time ran on rapidly. September came around. +Hope Mills did not make as good a report this time. +Business had been very dull. Sales were next to nothing. +People did not need much in warm weather, and orders +were very light. However, several other branches of +industry in Yerbury improved a trifle. Railroads, stocks, +and real estate were fast becoming dead speculations: so +men ventured to put their money warily into business +again.</p> + +<p>But the bottom had not been reached. Early in October +there was a tremendous failure of an old and well-known +firm of woollen-manufacturers. The bankrupt stock was +sold at auction. Then another, and various smaller +houses. The market was suddenly flooded. No one +could sell. No one seemed to need new garments of any +kind. Men wore their old clothes, and shrugged their +shoulders in a sort of contemptuous content, as if they +had suddenly found a great charm in a half-worn, shabby +overcoat. Robert Winston went hither and yon. Not a +piece or a yard would any one take.</p> + +<p>There was a great deal of discussion in various daily +journals. The business had been overdone again. Foreign +markets must be found. We could not compete with +foreign manufacturers. Our wool was inferior, our looms +were inferior, our men knew so little, and demanded such +high wages. Then we never could do any thing under +the present wretched tariff and the skinning system of +taxation. It took all a man could make. Another sapient +statesman declared nothing could be done without more +money. The contraction had been so great that not a man +could do business. Then came a long list of figures to +prove what a very little money was left in the country. +Newspaper war raged, first on this side, then on that. +If we did this, we would surely be ruined: if we did not, +then ruin was inevitable.</p> + +<p>Jack used to try for some light, no matter how faint.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span> +It seemed to him, if the great men at the helm of the +national ship would set to work vigorously to widen and +strengthen the commerce of the nation, instead of discussing +such frivolous issues, prosperity might dawn once +more. He went over his political economists again, and +realized sadly that men had always disputed these points, +and that each writer or prophet was sure his was the only +creed that would ever save the world, while by following +any other they would surely go to ruin.</p> + +<p>Winston and he took counsel together: then they called +in Cameron, who looked blue enough.</p> + +<p>"Any ordinary factory would shut down for the +winter," said Winston ruefully; "but that would be to +confess our scheme a failure. We are piling up goods—but +for what—a grand auction-sale by and by? And the +men have worked so cheerfully—no, we can't give up."</p> + +<p>"Giving up is out of the question at present," Jack +answered solemnly, as if he was passing his word at the +bar. "Our balance at the bank has been expended, +and we have some notes out that must be cared for in a +month's time. Wages are falling, and it seems to look +now as if we were coming back to the era of cheap living. +The bargain was the ruling rate of wages, you know. I +think they will have to come down."</p> + +<p>"I will not give up beaten," declared Winston. "I'll +have one more try. Keep up heart, shipmate."</p> + +<p>With that Winston started West again. He talked, he +plead, he offered for the mere cost of production,—just +to get the money back would be something. The coal-venture +of this winter had been much larger, though coal +was declining, and the profit somewhat less. Everybody +pared the margin to the mere skin. Winston had a little +luck, however. Two sales of some note were effected, +and a barter, that only a man with a shrewd eye for bargains, +and a glib tongue, could have managed. Flour, +apples, and potatoes were the stock this time. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span> +workmen took them gladly, at a little less than store +prices. They knew how full the wareroom kept all the +time.</p> + +<p>The first of January, wages were lowered. There was a +little grumbling among some of the men, but the women +took it in wiser part. The half-loaf was much better +than no bread at all. They remembered the dismal year +when there had been no employment, and stinted food +purchased on credit. One wouldn't starve with flour and +potatoes, nor freeze with a full coal-bin.</p> + +<p>Hope Mills had exhausted every source,—had even +paid a horrible discount, being hard run,—when Darcy +wrote to Miss McLeod a true statement of affairs. If +they could hold out until spring, times might be better. +They were economizing as they never had before: yet the +time had come when disaster really stared them in the +face, unless they could find a true friend.</p> + +<p>Miss Barry had generously offered him her store and +her credit. Though there had been a time when she withheld +Sylvie, and fancied Jack Darcy not quite the equal +of her pretty niece, that time had long gone by. She +knew now his genuine worth,—she had tested his integrity. +Of course Sylvie would drift that way; and so, +by many delicate turns, she showed Jack that she could +trust him with any of her treasures.</p> + +<p>"You are so good," said the honest fellow, with tears +in his eyes,—for he was touched beyond measure. "If +I can't get through I will gladly accept, unless the prospect +is so bad that it would be sure to jeopardize any one's +money. But I hope it will not come to that."</p> + +<p>How breathlessly he waited for Miss McLeod's answer! +The morning's mail did not bring it; night closed in without +it. A chill drizzle had set in, freezing as it fell, and +the keen air fairly flayed one's skin. Yet he dreaded to +go in-doors, to hear his mother's pleasant voice. Cousin +Jane had been called away by the illness and possible +death of a relative, so they two were alone.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span></p> + +<p>When Mrs. Darcy saw her son so grave and pre-occupied, +his eyes sadly pathetic with trouble, mother-like, she +tried to comfort with the small talk that women often offer, +and that answers the purpose like bathing one's brow with +Florida-water in a severe headache. She never mentioned +business to him when in such moods. Now it was a +bit of newspaper-gossip, concerning some discoveries in +Greece, that he and Maverick had been quite eager +about.</p> + +<p>The poor fellow was distraught, and could not listen. +He ate his supper, choking down the food, for her dear +sake, missing strangely Cousin Jane's pungency and +seasoning. Then he tried to interest himself in the +paper, but could not; he paced the floor softly; he +whistled a tune, for his mother's benefit also, but broke +down in the middle.</p> + +<p>"I must go out a little while," he declared in desperation.</p> + +<p>"Not in this storm," said his mother pleadingly.</p> + +<p>"Yes. I'll be back by—ten," looking at the clock. +"It is too bad to leave you alone," with sudden regret, +kissing her tenderly.</p> + +<p>"I shall not mind for a while. But this wretched +storm"—</p> + +<p>He laughed, a little strained and forced; then he put +on his great-coat, almost wishing that every man in the +country was without, and had to buy one to-morrow. He +tramped up the street, drawing long respirations, every +one of which was nearly a sigh. Was this the way Mr. +Lawrence felt when times went bad? Was some such +trouble the cause of that fatal disaster? He bowed his +head in a sort of touching and profound respect to the +dead man. He experienced an earnest sympathy for all +struggling capitalists. What did unreasoning labor know +of such nights as these when every thing, even good name, +was at stake! He wondered if his mop of curly hair<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span> +would turn gray, and then, in a ridiculously trivial mood, +remembered he must go and have it cropped. As well +now as any time; but when he reached the barber's, the +place looked so uninviting, with the smoky kerosene-lamps +turned low. He did not stop: he used to wonder afterward +how it would have been if he had, until he came to +have a sincere and reverent belief in God as the disposer +of human events, the Hand back of the curtain, that +guided every step, and kept sacred watch even over two +sparrows.</p> + +<p>He walked down past Maverick's; but half a dozen +people were in there, so he went on and on to the very +end of the street, when by the dim light he saw a figure +in advance of him, a woman, tall and stately, muffled in +a waterproof and hood. There was something in the +bearing different from most of the Yerbury women who +ran out of an evening for a neighborly gossip, or some +provender for their next morning's breakfast. There +were no stores in this direction; it was quite lonely; +perhaps she was going home. It would annoy her to be +followed, doubtless; and on such a night as this no roughs +would be abroad in this vicinity.</p> + +<p>Jack Darcy was in that nervous state when the brain +seems rarefied and empowered to wrest secrets from the +very elements in his path. He pursued several chains of +thought at once, with lightning rapidity, and, with curious +mental inconsistency, dropped them, and lapsed into +others. Now a sudden interest sprang up in this wandering +traveller. He listened with the wariness of an Indian +to her step. It had in it the essential principle of flight, +but a baffled, fruitless longing for escape, rather than a +nearing to some distant haven or goal. He had not used +to be so keen in this subtile discrimination, until Maverick +crossed his path, and helped him out of his psychological +bondage. And ordinarily his senses had not the electric +keenness of to-night.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span></p> + +<p>The figure paused. The face seemed to turn to the +drear, blank sky—was it in appealing, or a desperate +daring? an impotent resistance, or a wild, agonizing +prayer? The hands were thrown up: he had come gradually +nearer, and could see them, ghostly white in the +long feeble ray of the distant lamp. What was she deciding +or asking? A shiver ran over him as the thought of +suicide entered his brain. At all events, he must not let +her go to destruction.</p> + +<p>Her hands dropped. She took a few slow, irresolute +steps, then turned and came so quickly, that before he +could stir or think, she confronted him. A wild face with +staring eyes, a wilder shriek ringing out on the night air, +making muffled echoes around, a desperate plunge, and a +fall. He sprang and essayed to raise her from the half-frozen +hail-bed of the sidewalk; the hood fell back, and he +was more than astonished at beholding the face of Irene +Lawrence.</p> + +<p>He appeared suddenly to comprehend the whole fact, +though he came to know afterward that he misjudged her. +Only a desire to put an end to life and suffering, real or +fancied, could have brought her out this night, in the +lonely neighborhood, still, not so far from her own home. +He must take her back, and then go for Maverick, who +had become quite a favorite with Mrs. Lawrence, and +prescribed harmless remedies for her, since she insisted +she must have them.</p> + +<p>Jack Darcy never experienced a more exultant pride in +his strength than now. He lifted the helpless form, settled +the swaying head on his broad shoulder, and, clasping the +body tightly, picked his way through the slippery streets, +in a manner that would have done credit to an Alp +climber. Round this corner and that, to the quiet, deserted +street, where every window was closed, and perhaps +half the inmates in bed. Only in one house was +there a sound of life. Some one was playing an accompaniment<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span> +for an evening hymn, and youthful voices were +singing. Two lines floated out as he passed, making a +kind of glow on the sullen night:—</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"Though long a wanderer,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The sun gone down"—</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>Unconsciously he tightened his arms around this wanderer. +Of course all their brief acquaintance had gone +through his mind, especially the day when in her haughty +pride and beauty she had given him that cold, insolent +stare; but he forgave her freely, just as he had forgiven +Fred's sin, unasked. How strangely he was destined to +be mixed up with these Lawrences!</p> + +<p>He paused on the low porch, where a honeysuckle rioted +in summer, and was still full of withered leaves. His +burthen had not stirred, and was a dead weight. Resting +it against his knee, he pulled the door-bell gently, and +waited.</p> + +<p>"Is that you, Mr. Lawrence?" asked a voice from +within.</p> + +<p>"No. Jack Darcy," for he guessed rightly that it was +Martha.</p> + +<p>She opened the door.</p> + +<p>"Don't be frightened, Martha," in a re-assuring tone. +"It is Miss Lawrence."</p> + +<p>"Oh, good heaven!" in tones of terror.</p> + +<p>"Hush! do not disturb any one. Is Mr. Lawrence +home? Where shall I carry her? she is in a dead faint."</p> + +<p>"Bring her in the parlor. Oh, Mr. Darcy! where was +she?" with a look of wild affright. "I did not know +she had gone out. I always felt something would happen +to her; and a long while ago I offered to go out with her, +but she is so hard and disdainful that one soon comes to +letting her alone. She made me promise not to tell her +brother, or rather she defied me to: she wouldn't put any +thing as a favor if she was dying. Talk about the pride<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span> +of Lucifer! And I knew it would worry Mr. Lawrence +dreadfully."</p> + +<p>"Was she in the habit of going out—alone—at +night?" asked Jack, in amaze.</p> + +<p>"I think it was from pride," answered Martha simply. +"You see, she needed some exercise, and she seldom went +out in the daytime. And I don't think she is afraid of +any thing. I never saw such a cold, bitter, strong girl—for +she is only a girl yet. I've sometimes felt afraid she +would do something desperate. Oh, if she would only +let the Lord help her bear her trouble! And Mr. Lawrence +is so kind and generous! He would do any thing +for her. Oh, he ought to be home! There's the clock +striking ten."</p> + +<p>"And I must run for the doctor. Heaven grant she +may not be dead! Take off her cloak, and try something"—glancing +about in alarm.</p> + +<p>Then he seemed to take one devouring look at the +sculptured face, with closed lids, and jetty lashes sweeping +the marble cheeks. Hurrying away, as if by some +great effort, he ran down the street again, despatched +Maverick, and hastened to Fred's office. The building +loomed up dark and silent. He might possibly be at +Garafield's house: he often went there of an evening, he +and Mr. Garafield were so engrossed with their plans.</p> + +<p>It was a long walk; but Jack strode on, getting rapidly +over the ground. The hall-door was open, and Mr. and +Mrs. Garafield were saying good-night to Fred. Jack +waited until he came down the steps, and then called to +him cheerfully. They linked arm-in-arm. The hail and +rain had turned now to fine, hard snow, and the wind +seemed to scurry through the deserted streets like a +forlorn, wailing spirit.</p> + +<p>Jack told his story briefly, also repeating what Martha +had said about Irene's habit of lonely walking. He felt +the sensitive nerves in the arm he held, quiver with a +shuddering pain.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Thank God it was you!" Fred said, with a great, +tremulous gasp. "She is so strange, so cold and self-contained,—so +bitter against fate! Believe me, Jack, I +have tried my utmost"—and the voice broke with something +like a sob.</p> + +<p>"I know it, dear old fellow," drawing him nearer as +the blast whistled around them.</p> + +<p>"We never learned to make each other happy, you +know. We never supposed we had any special duties to +one another, so it was a new task to me. I tried to interest +her in something, to make her more cheerful; but she +would wrap herself in that haughty, unconquerable coldness. +Yet if I had known or guessed"—</p> + +<p>"After all, there is very little danger down your end +of the town," said Jack, in that light, comforting tone. +"There's nothing to call tramps or roughs; and, I dare +say, to-night all would have gone straight if she had not +run against me, as one may say, and the fright made her +faint."</p> + +<p>"But if it had been some one else! Oh, my God!"</p> + +<p>"It was not; so never give that a second thought. +There is no use in bringing up an army of 'might-have-beens' +to worry you to death when you have escaped +danger. And—here we are."</p> + +<p>"You will come in, of course?"</p> + +<p>Jack followed his friend. Maverick had succeeded in +restoring Miss Lawrence to consciousness; but she was +now in a burning fever and raging delirium. Outraged +nature had at last asserted its sway.</p> + +<p>"It is better so, I think," remarked Maverick, in a +quiet, decisive tone. "She will have a severe run of +fever, for this has been some time coming on; but she +has youth and a naturally fine constitution in her favor. +I believe she will pull through. But some arrangement +must be settled upon. It will not do to take her up-stairs; +for the effect upon your mother will be too great a risk.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span> +If you could bring a bed down here—to-morrow I will +see about getting a nurse."</p> + +<p>"I think it would be better to bring her bed down +stairs," rejoined Martha. "The parlor is used so little. +And she would be so much more comfortable"—</p> + +<p>Martha's eyes went over the heavy, clinging dress, the +disordered hair, the bracelets that were like manacles as +she threw her arms about, moaning, muttering, and laughing +shrilly. The eyes rolled wildly in their senseless stare, +until one's blood almost curdled.</p> + +<p>"We must get about it immediately," began Dr. Maverick. +"She will be quieter presently, and I shall remain +all night. Darcy, you watch her: do not let her injure +herself, while we bring down the necessary articles."</p> + +<p>Just at this juncture Mrs. Lawrence's bell rang. The +noise had startled her from her first sound sleep. Dr. +Maverick explained simply, and gave her a composing +draught.</p> + +<p>"A fever! Is it any thing contagious? Yes, it is +better to keep her down there: my nerves are so weak, +and I think I have a very sensitive, susceptible nature. +I might take any disease so easily,—do you not think +so, doctor?" and Mrs. Lawrence looked up from her +frills and laces and snowy pillow with the helpless air +of a child.</p> + +<p>"Much better. She may be delirious, too, and that +would distress you. Now be as quiet as possible, and try +to go to sleep again. I shall remain to keep you both +in order," with a laugh.</p> + +<p>"That is very kind," she answered, with a pretty wave +of her delicate hand. Her daughter might be dying +below, but her nerves must be settled and cared for. +Still, to do her justice, even in her intense selfishness, +she never considered other people's ailments dangerous, +while she held that her own precious life was constantly +in peril. She talked of dying with the calmness of a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span> +saint, and admitted that there was no further charm to +life, but still she must have the choicest care.</p> + +<p>Under Martha's supervision they soon dismembered +the bedstead, and brought down all necessary belongings. +Jack had watched his charge, strangely exercised +by her curious, changeful moods. Once she had looked +meaningly at him.</p> + +<p>"I <i>might</i> marry you," she said, in soft, mocking tones, +her scarlet lips taking on a bitter, scornful smile; "but +I should come to hate you so that some night when you +lay asleep I should rise and murder you! I might endure +you in London, where I could be in a continual round of +gayety; but at Frodsham Park, with an old man like you,—May +and December! May and December!" and she +laughed shrilly.</p> + +<p>She did not mean <i>him</i>, then! Honest Jack Darcy +blushed to the roots of his hair, to his very finger-ends. +Some old man had wanted her: well, she was braver and +truer, then, than most people would admit.</p> + +<p>The three came in, and transformed the parlor to a hospital-ward, +without the simplicity. Jack suddenly thought +of his mother, and hurried away. What an eventful walk +it had been! and Hope Mills was quite driven out of his +mind.</p> + +<p>He found his mother frightened and hysterical; and +drawing her down beside him he told her the story of his +wanderings, expressing with some tender kisses his sorrow +for her alarm, and advised her to go to bed at once, as he +meant to do. And, though it might not be romantic after +such an adventure, I must admit that in ten minutes my +hero was soundly asleep, oblivious of both storm and +business.</p> + +<p>At the house he had left, there was but little refreshing +rest. Mrs. Lawrence drowsed away when the confusion +of re-arrangement had subsided. The gentlemen retired +to the library while Martha disrobed her young mistress<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span> +with inward fear and trembling, hardly being able to +judge what was due to delirium, and what to natural imperiousness. +Then Dr. Maverick kindly dismissed her.</p> + +<p>"You will need your strength in the morning," said he. +"Try to get at least one good nap."</p> + +<p>He took his station at the bedside, and motioned Fred +to an armchair just out of his sister's range. The opiate +was not working <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'sucessfully'">successfully</ins>, but at present he did not +consider it wise to increase it. He questioned him a little +as to Miss Irene's habits and resources, and imagined the +part withheld, from that rather reluctantly admitted. He +understood that here kindred blood had not produced +harmony, but a horrible discord, the more wearing in that +every note had been muffled. The self-commiseration +of the mother, and her weak love for her son that could +only pity, but never encourage or brace to any vigorous +effort; her total inability to comprehend any such character +as her youngest daughter possessed; the wearisome +platitudes enunciated in the belief that they were golden +grains of worldly wisdom, the only kind she supposed +existed; the weak, vapid repining that she had not married +when she might have done so well, the discouraging certainty +that no marriage was possible in this second-rate +town, and that to remain single was a stigma and a misfortune. +In her weak but querulous complaints, which +she meant in part for sympathy, she had worn and exasperated +Irene as much as Mrs. Minor: only here there +were no lovers, and there Mrs. Minor looked upon every +single man of means as a fish to be skilfully angled for.</p> + +<p>If Irene had been thrown completely upon her own resources, +if she had been compelled to step entirely out of +her olden sphere, and earn her daily bread, there would +have been a sharp, bitter fight, but the bracing mental +atmosphere might have dispelled the thick darkness, the +chilling vacuity, and evolved from the discordant elements +a questioning and not easily satisfied soul, but one destined<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span> +to develop into strength and nobler uses. But here, she +said to herself, there was nothing. Friendship could not +come to her aid—she would have none of it. No one +should study her with curious eyes, to see how she bore +her trials, her losses, the downfall of her pride. Strangers +who had glanced at her with envy in her pretty pony-phaeton, +or the magnificent family barouche, should not +smile in triumph as they saw her walking by. As she had +scorned others in her grandeur, so others would rejoice +that she had been brought low. She had seen so much +of the narrowness, the petty spite, the sharp stings of the +world, that her sensitive flesh shrank at every pulse.</p> + +<p>She could understand now how high-bred women, when +friends and fortune had flown, had shut themselves in convents. +That she would have been glad to do. Any entire +renunciation would have met with her approval. But +to gather up the threads of a commonplace existence, to +find joy and solace in daily duties, to work for others, +to even show others how trials and misfortunes could be +borne to the perfect working-out of nobler aims and uses, +was not for her. She had never been trained to any such +purpose. A heathen of the heathens in a Christian country, +the product of fashion, wealth, and so-called refinement.</p> + +<p>In the solitude to which she condemned herself, she +came to brooding over a desperate, worldly philosophy. +Should she go back, and retrace her steps, and marry? +There were days when she absolutely contested the ground +inch by inch, and almost decided.</p> + +<p>Her long rapid walks, generally at night when her brain +was wild with the bitter warfare, had served a useful purpose, +and kept her in better health. But the strain could +not last forever. For days she had alternated between a +chilly, stupid languor, and hours when her brain seemed +on fire, when, indeed, she hated the whole world with a +bitter, awful intensity. In this mood she had stolen out +for her walk.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span></p> + +<p>And now the outraged soul had burst its bonds, and +revelled in a fearful revenge. All the ache and repression +put upon it; all this silent endurance; all the solitary +hours of maddening thought, the wasted riches, the +spurned sympathy, the youth poisoned by false doctrines,—every +secret sin committed against it, cried aloud, and +would not be throttled, nor thrust back into the dreary +dungeon.</p> + +<p>Fred listened to her ravings in stunned, helpless astonishment. +His trial had been so much less intense, after +all. Could it be possible she had suffered this as she sat +so like a statue in the little circle, disdaining every aid? +His startled eyes questioned the doctor.</p> + +<p>"Yes," was the reply: "she has been too much alone. +She has brooded over these things until she has become +morbid and imbittered. The curse of fashionable life is, +that it provides a woman with no resources against a dark +day, no wisdom, no faith in any thing outside of herself. +And then we wonder at insanity! A thousand times better +that the body should be racked with pain, if so be +that the soul is purified in passing through these fires. It +may be her salvation."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XX.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> morning's mail brought to Darcy the letter he had +hardly dared expect. It was brief but cordial. Would +he come to New York, and the matter could be arranged +to his satisfaction? "He had not been very eager to ask +favors."</p> + +<p>"We'll weather through, Winston!" he cried joyfully. +"I must go to New York. Miss McLeod has sent."</p> + +<p>Then he ran off home, and arrayed himself in spotless +linen and immaculate cuffs, complained a little that Jane +Morgan should be away, and begged his mother to ask +in some of the pretty, friendly girls living in the next +house, if he should not be home to supper. There +was a late train that he would be quite sure of, if the +business detained him until night. Then he kissed +her tenderly: she was still a little shaken from her last +night's vigil.</p> + +<p>He went around by Maverick's office, though it took +him out of his way; but he must hear some word of Miss +Lawrence.</p> + +<p>"She is very ill, and will be for some time to come; +but I am wonderfully interested in the case. It's a brain-fever. +The girl is a study in herself. She has the force +and power, and capability of both suffering and endurance, +that would answer for half a dozen souls; but it has come +pretty nearly to a wreck. Did you ever know much about +her?"</p> + +<p>"No. I once spent an evening with Miss Barry when +she was there," and Jack flushed. "It was before Mr.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span> +Lawrence died. They used to be great friends, you +know."</p> + +<p>"And it ended like most women's friendships, eh?" +with a peculiar light in his eyes as he spoke.</p> + +<p>"No: it broke off in the middle; regards have a trick +of doing that when they're not ended, you know. Sylvie +is very generous: she would go there to-day if she were +needed."</p> + +<p>"Would she? She may be before it is all over."</p> + +<p>"Go down and tell her, Maverick, when you are in +that direction."</p> + +<p>Maverick nodded.</p> + +<p>Darcy was just in time to catch his train. There had +been quite a fall of snow from midnight to dawn, and the +trees were glittering with thousands of diamond-sparks +and patches of fleecy ermine. The winding roads were +white; the cottages and the fence-posts were hooded; and +the snow caught all the tints of sun and shadowy lights, +reflecting them back like a mirror. His heart was so +light as they whirled along, he smiled, and could hardly +forbear shouting at a group of boys who were snow-balling +by the roadside.</p> + +<p>He met Miss McLeod at Mr. Hildreth's. They had +the private office to themselves; and he related the mishaps +of the past three months, showed her the actual +figures, and admitted that times seemed really harder than +last year. There was such a horrible shrinkage everywhere! +Still there must be some trade presently,—it +always had been so in the history of the world.</p> + +<p>"I think you deserve a great deal of credit for having +pulled through so far on your limited capital," said she. +"Some of the business-men I meet, think this will prove +the hardest year in our history. It will winnow the chaff +from the wheat pretty well."</p> + +<p>"If it does not winnow us all into chaff," returned the +young fellow, with a touch of grim humor.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span></p> + +<p>"We shall come back to smaller profits and greater +industry. The world will not be able to play at being +ladies and gentlemen, and perhaps a little wholesome +work will not be a bad discipline."</p> + +<p>Then she wanted to know what amount would be likely +to tide him over for the next six months. He said he did +not desire to exceed ten thousand dollars. She would +make it twelve, however. After the notes were duly +signed, she took him to her bank, and introduced him. +As he had some other parties to see, she drove him about +in her carriage, and insisted upon taking him home with +her presently.</p> + +<p>What an elegant old lady she was in her sables and +velvets, and her royal air! her eyes bright with spirit +and energy, her cheeks a little pink with the crisp air, +glad sunshine, and perhaps her own hearty, wholesome +mood. Occasionally she leaned out and nodded to some +friend; and once her carriage drew up to the sidewalk as +she summoned a fine, portly-looking gentleman to her.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Throckmorton," she said, with gracious dignity, +"I want to introduce my young friend Mr. Darcy, of +Hope Mills, Yerbury, to you. If you can serve him in +any business-way, I shall be glad to have you."</p> + +<p>The gentleman bowed, and held out his hand, with +cordial fine breeding.</p> + +<p>"Hope Mills! It belonged to my friend Lawrence, +did it not,—David Lawrence?"</p> + +<p>"Until his death, yes."</p> + +<p>"Sad misfortune, that. He ought to have retired years +before. There was some villany in his manager, was +there not? It is difficult to find a purely honest man +nowadays; but I do believe Lawrence was one. We +dealt with him a great many years, but toward the last +there was some dissatisfaction,—goods not coming quite +up to samples."</p> + +<p>"We try to do our business on the square, Mr. Throckmorton,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span> +returned Jack, with a proud curve of the lips +that was almost a smile, and illumined his face. "If any +thing is not exactly as represented, we shall make it good; +but we try never to have occasion to do that. We should +be glad to have you test our honesty and skill."</p> + +<p>"Thank you,—I will, I will;" and, touching his hat +to Miss McLeod, they parted.</p> + +<p>"If men were as generous as you!" cried Jack, with +enthusiastic candor, "how splendid a place this world +would be for business! Did you ever have a jealous +thought in all your life?"</p> + +<p>She laughed brightly. "I have had nearly all the +things I wanted," she answered, with tender solemnity. +"There would have been little excuse. Mr. Darcy, we +do not always realize how hard life is to some; and, where +everybody's man's hand is against one, it is natural for him to +be against every man."</p> + +<p>Their four-o'clock meal was an elegant little dinner. +They were quite alone, which pleased Jack. She questioned +him about Maverick, his practice, his friends, and +wondered if he ever meant to marry. Jack said laughingly +no one in Yerbury dared to make fascinating eyes at him.</p> + +<p>Did she care so much for Maverick? Surely these two +ought to be together, yet what would <i>he</i> do without his +trusty comrade?</p> + +<p>They veered round to the mills presently, and discussed +honesty. Jack admitted that Mr. Throckmorton and +other customers had a right to complain. There had +been a deal of cheap wool used, and many poor workmen +employed, during Eastman's last year or two.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Darcy," she began energetically, "why do you +not think up something new? We import pretty material +for ladies' wear, that could as well be made here, for we +women are growing sensible enough to believe something +beside silk admissible. And though men may cling to +superannuated coats, with an affection most commendable<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span> +in hard times, I never heard of a woman being attached +to an old gown."</p> + +<p>"I never thought of it," he admitted frankly.</p> + +<p>"That is what you were put in the world for,—to +think," and she smiled with quaint humor. "Invent +something. I'll take a sample to every store to match, +and lift my brows in surprise when clerks confess they +have not seen it. Give it a pretty name, of course."</p> + +<p>"That is worth considering, surely;" and his eyes +sparkled. "Hope Mills ought presently to be the grandest +place in the country, you take so much interest in it," +and his whole face expressed his admiration.</p> + +<p>"I do hope to see you a successful manufacturer, Mr. +Darcy; and, woman-like, I want the scheme to succeed. +I should like to see even a small party of men trained to +honesty and fair play. And, if I lose my money, it is no +worse than a downfall in stocks."</p> + +<p>"I shall do my best now and ever," he answered +heartily.</p> + +<p>They parted with much warm gratitude on the honest +fellow's side. He took the evening train for home; and +his mother had a good cup of tea awaiting him, along +with her smile. He related his grand good luck, and +there were not two happier people in all Yerbury. When +the bank found he had an account at New York, and a +good backer, they were extremely affable again.</p> + +<p>Jack broached the new idea to Winston and Cameron.</p> + +<p>"To be sure," admitted Winston. "Some one will do +it presently, and we might get the lead. Darcy, your old +lady is a trump, and always carries the honors. There +will have to be some new processes: see here, talk to Ben +Hay about it; he's made two or three improvements, and +has some brains. Gad! It'll be quite jolly to have a new +line of goods. Get the ladies on your side, and you're +all right!"</p> + +<p>He had not a spare moment until after his late supper,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span> +when he told his mother he must run over to the Lawrences, +and stop a moment at the doctor's, though he had +despatched the good news to him in the morning.</p> + +<p>He found matters worse than he had feared. There +had been an alarming change in Miss Lawrence. Martha +ushered him through the hall to the library, where Fred +was sitting. The two clasped hands, and then sat down +together. A hard, dry sob seemed to tear its way up +from Fred's very soul.</p> + +<p>"Jack," he cried in a strained, despairing tone, "could +I have done any thing to save her? I have been engrossed +with my own affairs, my own dreams of advancement. +I wanted to have money again, but it was for her +sake and my mother's," with a lingering tremulous intonation. +"She has been too solitary, she has brooded +over every thing. But she would not go out, or see any +company; and somehow it was our misfortune to grow up +without any warm, vital interest in each other. When I +was a boy I used to like it at your house, because your +father and mother took such a real delight in you. It is +the pith of life. Poor father—he was very proud of me, +he gave his life for our pleasure and grandeur and reckless +extravagance, yet all the later years we were well-nigh +strangers. Why can't people get nearer to each other, +Jack, or is it only given to the very few? Does the +greedy world swallow up every sentiment, every bit of +tenderness, and make a mock of it?"</p> + +<p>"No, no! Nothing can quite kill it, thank God! You +and I have proved that. It may be smothered under dust +and rubbish, and frozen with neglect, but the germ will +revive,—just as the brown woolly ball evolves the fine +delicate fern-leaf that it has held in its heart through +winter storms, you know. Don't blame yourself. Every +soul has to fight its own battle somewhere, with no day's-man +between but God. We get back to the old truth +in spite of the new philosophies, and own in our vanquished<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span> +moments that we cannot <i>make</i> strength, that ours +is only a broken reed, and the true upholding force must +come from some knowledge higher than our own."</p> + +<p>Jack paused, strangely stirred in every fibre. He seldom +essayed sentiment: with him the deeds of life had to +answer, rather than any eloquence of words. He laid his +strong, warm arm over Fred's shoulder, the old boyish +caress with which he had often comforted unknowingly.</p> + +<p>"I think you have been doing nobly," he went on +presently. "I did not look to find you so brave and persevering, +so earnest in thinking of others; for, after all, a +man's training does throw a great many shackles about +him."</p> + +<p>Dr. Maverick entered at that moment. He had hurried +off his office-patients to come and spend an hour watching +this case, which held a fascinating interest for him. Some +most unfavorable symptoms had supervened, but he did +not despair. The nurse had been regularly trained, he +had kept her busy in Yerbury the last year. He could +trust her to note the slightest variations.</p> + +<p>Just now Miss Lawrence lay in a heavy stupor, so like +death that one could not detect it from any motion. Her +eyes were half open, her face had a dull purplish tint. +The abundant hair had been confined in a thick plait, and +brushed straight across her forehead. How distinct and +finely clear the brows were pencilled, how haughtily sweet +the curve of the pallid, fever-burned lips, how exquisitely +round and perfect the chin, the slope of the throat and +neck! Jack stole one glance,—they had both gone in with +the doctor,—but it seemed almost sacrilegious, now when +she was powerless to frown the intruder out of her presence. +And he had carried her in his arms!</p> + +<p>"O Darcy," Maverick exclaimed presently, "I did not +go to Miss Barry's, after all. I have been so desperately +busy to-day."</p> + +<p>Fred glanced up, and his eye met that of his friend. +Both flushed, and both mistook the cause.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span></p> + +<p>It was a curiously auspicious moment. Jack went over +to him. "I wonder," he began, with a marked persuasiveness +in his tone, "if you would like to have +Sylvie Barry come over? She and your sister used to +be such friends. And, in times like these, animosities +and foolish prejudices ought to die out."</p> + +<p>Fred gave him a startled look, and half turned, his lids +drooping to veil the secret in his eyes. Jack waited with +breath that half strangled him. He had marvelled how +these two souls were to be brought into friendly contact +again; how Sylvie was to have an opportunity of knowing +that Fred was redeeming the manliness of manhood, instead +of grounding among its trivial shoals, and, if she +ever had cared for him, to understand that he was not +utterly unworthy. He had spoken—what if the chance +should fail!</p> + +<p>Fred very naturally misinterpreted the emotion. Jack +offered this out of the boundless tenderness of his heart, +so confident was he of Sylvie's regard.</p> + +<p>"You think—she would come?"</p> + +<p>His own voice, under the great stress, sounded miles +away to him, quite as if some other person had spoken.</p> + +<p>How often the tense strain of feeling is relieved by a +tone or an incident quite out of the magnetic current!</p> + +<p>"Some one ought to drop in occasionally, for your +mother's sake," said Dr. Maverick. "We shall have her +in a fever from sympathy," putting the fact more delicately +in words than it was in his thought.</p> + +<p>"She would be glad to come, I know. She would +feel hurt if— You empower me to ask her?" with an +abrupt transition of tone.</p> + +<p>Fred Lawrence bowed his head. He could not trust +his voice.</p> + +<p>The sick girl started, opened wide her eyes, threw up +her arms, and began in weird, passionate tones, as if it +were a stage declamation. Oh the lurid thought that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span> +seemed to travel from regions of bliss to the nethermost +hell; to display a boundless capacity for enjoyment, for +pleasure or pain, for tenderness and bitter, brilliant +satire, a keen knowledge of the world to the very dregs,—the +dust and ashes! She implored her lost idols to +come near, and in the next breath she tossed them from +her with a mocking laugh. She had no faith in God or +man, and before her was a blank wall of despair.</p> + +<p>Jack led him away. He took him out in the keen +air of the starry winter night, and began to talk of Hope +Mills and the new projects. It was too late afterward to +call on Sylvie, so he waited until the next morning.</p> + +<p>She was inexpressibly shocked. "Of course she would +go," she made answer; and she went that very afternoon, +with her aunt for companion.</p> + +<p>They found Mrs. Lawrence in a dreadfully disturbed +and apprehensive state. She was so weary of solitude +that she welcomed them gladly, quite forgetting this girl +had insulted her by rejecting her son. In a weak, shuffling +manner she excused herself for not having accepted +their overtures before. She had been so utterly overwhelmed +by the death of Mr. Lawrence, that, in her state +of nervous prostration, it had been impossible to see any +one. And now she was positive she should take the fever. +Her health was so delicate, her nerves so susceptible, and +to hear the raving of delirium,—the laughs that were +quite like a maniac,—would be sure to shatter her +beyond any help. If it were not in the dead of winter, +she should go to New York at once, and stay with Mrs. +Minor until all danger of infection was over. She did +not seem to comprehend the gravity of Irene's case, +though she wept over her suffering in a soft self-pity.</p> + +<p>"If you could be removed to our house," suggested +Miss Barry, in her gentle way, "we would take the best +of care of you; and it must be extremely wearing for you +here."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Ah, you have no idea! I never slept last night. I +have heard of people in these dreadful fevers who have +left their beds when the nurse was absent, and committed +some horrible crime. I locked my door last night; +then I was afraid I might faint away alone, and Fred had +to come and stay with me. It was terrible!" and the +washed-out eyes dilated with real fear.</p> + +<p>Martha was despatched for the doctor, who not only +came himself, but brought a close coach, thankful to dispose +of one patient so comfortably. Before dusk Mrs. +Lawrence was snugly settled in Miss Barry's best room, +where a cheerful open-front stove made amends for a +grate, and the new surroundings served to take her mind +from her late apprehensions. Indeed, she felt so much +better for the change, that she insisted upon coming down +to tea.</p> + +<p>It was beneficial in many ways. They removed Irene +again to her own room, and used her mother's for various +convenient purposes. Sylvie went back and forth, and +shared the day-watching, beside entertaining Mrs. Lawrence. +The two dropped insensibly into their olden positions. +Sylvie listened patiently to the death, the loss of +fortune, the changes, which Mrs. Lawrence dwelt upon +with the exaggerating vividness of a nature completely +engrossed with its own sorrows.</p> + +<p>Dr. Maverick had to come every day. Mrs. Lawrence +had arrived at that stage when a woman depends upon +the doctor as a sort of bulletin for her own health. Fred, +too, must visit his mother frequently; but at first he chose +the hours he knew Sylvie would be with Irene.</p> + +<p>Dr. Maverick used to watch Sylvie Barry with an interest +and admiration that grew upon him. Her tact was +something marvellous, born of a certain exquisite harmony +and almost divine unselfishness. But of this last she appeared +serenely unconscious. I think, indeed, that she +was. A higher love and faith had interpenetrated her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span> +soul, her very being. Instead of agonizing introspections +and lightning flashes to the inward depths of her nature, +she seemed to live continually on the outside of herself, +radiating warmth and light as the sun. Her patience was +of a rare, fine quality, born of health, and spirits not +easily wearied.</p> + +<p>It would have been quite impossible for any two people +to go through such a strain of feeling, and not be drawn +together in love and sympathy, or friendship. With Fred +and Sylvie it was unconsciously a little of all. If he had +gone back with the old love, even exalted and refined, +he would surely have blundered again. But now she was +another's, sacred in his eyes. And though in his blind +pride he had once thought the greatest favor he could +do her would be to save her from any such <i>mésalliance</i>, +he recognized now that Jack Darcy was immeasurably +above him in all the qualities that went to make up +pure manhood. Even in his work: Jack's ambition was +not for himself, but a cause; and his—ah, how poor and +paltry it seemed! So he accepted his place with outward +bravery, and a great wrench of all a man holds most dear. +For now he loved her.</p> + +<p>The days passed slowly on. It seemed at the last as +if the fever would prove the victor. A consultation was +held, and new remedies employed. Irene's beautiful hair +was cut off and laid away, the clear skin seemed to grow +brown and shrivelled, the hands lost their plump whiteness, +and the rosy nails were dull and gray. There came +a time when human skill had done all, and they could only +wait for that Higher power to whose eternal force death +and love alike submit.</p> + +<p>There followed upon that awful night of suspense, days +when she was but just alive, when a turn of her head on +the pillow caused a lapse into unconsciousness. But the +spring came on; and she did rally, at first, it appeared, at +the entire sacrifice of her regal beauty. Would she care +to take life on such terms?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span></p> + +<p>They brought Mrs. Lawrence home. Mrs. Minor came +up, and insisted that both mother and sister should be +removed to the city at once. She had her horses and +carriage, her servants, her luxuries, and she could make +them so much more comfortable.</p> + +<p>Dr. Maverick interposed a decided negative. The +body had not yet resumed its normal state; but the brain +was to be ministered to, as only those of experience and +study could minister. It was to be brought out of the +hell of its own despairing self-torture, and enfranchised, +set free from the demons that, standing in the present +abeyance of weakness, had lost neither strength nor desire, +and were only waiting the auspicious moment to +seize their prey again. And he was too much fascinated +to relinquish the study.</p> + +<p>Sylvie persuaded her aunt to indulge in a pony-carriage. +Miss Barry was breaking a little; but she still kept her +interest in good works, and found she was much more +useful with this aid. Winsome little Sylvie looked more +piquant than ever with the reins in her hands, flashing +hither and thither through the streets of Yerbury, gathering +a harvest of smiles and nods. She fairly compelled +Mrs. Lawrence to trust her precious self to what she +laughingly declared was superior horsewomanship.</p> + +<p>Dr. Maverick used to stop her often, just to catch a +delicious ripple of laughter, or a bit of trenchant talk. If +it were not for Jack Darcy—did Jack love her? At all +events, she loved him: any one could see that by her +frank, fearless manner. Oh, sapient Dr. Maverick, with +all your knowledge of brains and nerves, of occult causes +and mysterious effects! So it happens that sometimes a +simple, direct truth is the greatest puzzle of all.</p> + +<p>The schools and clubs had not been neglected with all +this excitement. But this winter Mary Moran had been +teacher at a small salary; and a bakery and refreshment +or dining room had been opened down stairs, which really<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span> +made quite a little money. Wholesomely cooked food +was offered for sale, with bread, rolls, and biscuit. The +club had also given two successful suppers. When Jane +Morgan was home, Sylvie was relieved of the actual care: +she would have it. She had come back to Yerbury a +thousand dollars richer for her relative's death, and she +and Jack were drawing plans for a co-operative store.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXI.</h2> + + +<p>"<span class="smcap">I'd</span> rather lose five thousand dollars than do it."</p> + +<p>Jack Darcy leaned back in his office-chair. He had +just made up the third half-yearly account. It was bad +enough. They had known this all along, and had not +concealed it from the men. Now it was to be confronted +in black and white, with searching eyes.</p> + +<p>It was not that they had not made any thing: that +would have been endurable, considering the kind of winter. +But they had gone back, and eaten up the profits of +last year.</p> + +<p>"You see, there co-operation comes in," said Bob Winston. +"It isn't <i>your</i> loss alone. It's mine and every +man's. That's what we agreed to when we went in. +Labor and capital should share in the ups and downs. +See here, Jack, I've learned a good deal myself. I have +more sympathy with employers. Gad! what a pull we've +had this winter! If it hadn't been for your fairy godmother"—</p> + +<p>"Well, it must be done!" and Jack pulled a long face. +"There, it is all ready to print. Now old fellow, we +must brace ourselves up for the shot and shell. We'll +have to do the fighting all over again. If every man had +as easy, philosophical a mind as you, or as sensible, +reasonable a one as Cameron, I should not have so many +misgivings."</p> + +<p>The statement was printed and distributed. The men +looked blue and cross. Had they really lost nearly all +of last year's balance?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span></p> + +<p>Winston asked them to stop one evening while he went +into a slight explanation. He was well armed. Without +having a logical mind or parliamentary training, he had a +woman's quick intuitions, and often jumped at very decent +conclusions with hardly a glance at the premises. He +had a way of massing his forces, too, that was very telling.</p> + +<p>Now, after what he called a little skirmishing, he read +that the Barnable Mills had been running on three-quarter +time all winter. Wages had been a trifle lower than +with them. Middleham Mills had been closed for two +months. He gave the figures of loss to the workmen. +Crowley and Dawson had gone into bankruptcy, owing +their men in the aggregate more than all Hope Mills had +used of last year's profits. Then he read a statement +from an eminent manufacturer, that he had used fifty-four +thousand dollars of accrued capital rather than turn off +his workmen to starve. There had been strikes in several +other places, in which the workmen had lost much more +than at Yerbury.</p> + +<p>"So that our showing, bad as it is, is not the worst," +said he. "In the very dullest of times we cast in our +lots together, and we must take the good and bad. If +you had been living this winter on the private capital of +any one man or corporation, you would never have given +the matter a thought. You know now, by experience, +that capital does not always float on a serene and indolent +sea, and gather in treasures for which it has cast +out no net. You can appreciate the struggle we have +gone through; though, while you have been going along +placidly, with the larger weight of care lifted off your +shoulders, a man with less energy and pluck than our +intrepid pilot, John Darcy, might have let us founder. +We help him now with the readiness and good-humor +with which we relinquish the profits which were dear to +us, and the product of our industry; but he has taken<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[271]</a></span> +us through a very narrow channel, on a dark night, without +striking rock or snag. He and I thank you heartily +for your fidelity to our keystone,—co-operation."</p> + +<p>"Three cheers for Darcy!" sang out some one in the +crowd, "and three cheers for Bob Winston!"</p> + +<p>It was given heartily.</p> + +<p>"And three cheers for the men of Hope Mills," responded +Winston.</p> + +<p>They shook hands, and dispersed with a little better +feeling. Several of the men seemed to breathe a clearer +mental atmosphere immediately.</p> + +<p>"You may be sure it's right, whichever way it is," said +one man sturdily. "I've known Jack Darcy, boy and +man, and his father afore him. He comes of good, clean +stock, and, if he says a thing can't be bettered, it can't; +and, if it can, he's just the man to do it. Give him a +long tether, say I."</p> + +<p>Then Winston procured a list of weekly wages ruling in +this country, and in many places abroad, the hours of +work, and the average cost of living, with the articles in +most general use. The mill-men had their flour and coal +cheaper, and altogether their winter was proved as satisfactory. +This was pasted up in the hall.</p> + +<p>The matter was discussed through the town, of course. +Some people saw in it a speedy dissolution of the plan,—a +plan that never had worked, and never would. Others +did not see that this method of getting back part of the +men's wages was any better than any other swindling +scheme. They never had any faith in Bob Winston,—Darcy +might be honest, but he wasn't very bright,—and +in five years Winston would own every thing there was in +the mill!</p> + +<p>Winston laughed over the gossip. Jack could not take +it so light-heartedly. He was an earnest, honest reformer, +and hated to have things go awry. Winston, not believing +there was very much capacity for reform in human +nature, did not distress himself.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[272]</a></span></p> + +<p>Ben Hay, and a dozen or so others, did their best +with the new cloth, and succeeded in producing a really +creditable article. The heads discussed the feasibility +of having an auction-sale to clear out some of the piles +of goods; then concluded that it might be misconstrued +at this present juncture. They could hold on until fall.</p> + +<p>But the delightful <i>esprit du corps</i> had vanished. The +men did not seem to work with a will. There were moody +faces and discourteous greetings, half-insolent nods, and +more than one wrangle at the workmen's meeting. Hurd +felt anxious and discouraged. Yardley took a low fever, +not severe enough to confine him to the house, but it made +him irritable, and every sneer or innuendo cut him to the +quick. Cameron was a great comfort to Jack, with his +queer, wrinkled, grizzled face, and an expression that +always puzzled you as to whether nature meant him to +laugh or cry.</p> + +<p>"I am not surprised," said he, one day, in the office. +"I knew we would have to come to just this time. A +wife shares your joys and sorrows, gen'ally speaking; but +you see there it's a force put, she can't well get away. +Other partners like your joys, but they make a wry face +over the sorrows, and like to squirm out of them if they +can. But it is the only way to train men to the real +responsibilities of business. Now, I'm sorry enough to +lose, but it stands to reason that times will come better. +We're getting through the panic; but after the battle +there's some dead to bury, and some wounded to care +for, and you see that's tedjus. You can't march straight +home, covered with glory. Here's our money in the +hospital, first up, then down, and all the doctors in the +land tinkering with allopathic doses and homœopathic +doses, and blisters and poultices and remedies, when all +it wants is a little honest letting-alone. It doesn't occur +to these long-headed doctors that the best way out is to +show everybody that we're willing to go to work and pay<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span> +our debts just as fast as we can. And any fool might +know that when you are paying up back debts you can't +have much money to sport around on. Never you mind, +Jack: we're coming out straight in five years time,—I'll +bet my old hat on that!"</p> + +<p>Jack wrung his hand warmly.</p> + +<p>In May there was quite a jollification over the marriage +of two mill-hands. Ben Hay took to wife pretty Rose +Connelly; and the coffee-house parlor was denuded of +tables and benches, trimmed with evergreens and flowers, +and such a merry-making as did one's heart good. There +was a bountiful supper, plenty of tea, coffee, and lemonade, +dancing, and ice-cream, and the utmost good-humor +and good wishes. Connelly <i>père</i> had gone back to his +cups, thrown up his situation, come home and stirred up +a general "ruction," and had now gone off on a tramp. +Ben Hay was to cast his lot with the Connelly household +for the present.</p> + +<p>"But I tell you what it is, Mr. Darcy," said he, "if +any luck comes to Hope Mills, in five years' time I'll have +my own little house and garden. I tramped around a bit +in the dull times, but I didn't see many prettier places +than Yerbury. And, the more I study this business of +co-operation, the more I think it will succeed in the +end."</p> + +<p>Jack experienced a great throb of comfort when he +heard such words as these.</p> + +<p>Another mill-hand had married Mary Moran. She was +not the beauty of Yerbury, by any means, but everybody +declared she had improved wonderfully, and that she was +the smartest girl in town. Their wedding-party was given +at the club-room. It was a larger and rather more boisterous +affair; and some of the Morans' warm-hearted +Irish friends brought a "dhrop of the craythur" in their +pockets, to drink the bride's health. Everybody admitted +that there wasn't such another bread-maker in town, unless +it was Miss Morgan.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274]</a></span></p> + +<p>In fact, it was quite astonishing to see what a revolution +had been worked in this most important article of diet. +The women had learned to distinguish between poor and +good flour, and Kilburn's trade in the former had fallen +off largely. Of the bread that in Samantha Allen's view +"required cast-iron principle to back it up," very little +was seen. It had been rather hard work to convince some +of the mothers that bread wasn't naturally born into the +world heavy and sour, but it had been done.</p> + +<p>If Hope Mills failed, the impetus to general knowledge +that had been diffused throughout Yerbury would remain +and bear fruit. An evening-school had been opened for +boys too large to stay at home evenings, and just the right +age to fall into temptations. It began with the mill-boys, +but it soon drew in others. There was a short session of +study, then a talk about some useful art or science. +Maverick had treated them to sundry experiments, and +explained many general rules of health. Mr. Winston +had described Western cities in a vivid and picturesque +manner. There had been some astronomy within the +reach of all, some philosophy of common every-day +things; and it had given the boys ideas above "high, +low, Jack."</p> + +<p>Darcy tried to find comfort in this when other matters +looked dark to him. A little good seed had been sown. +The generation growing up would not be quite so dull and +brutish. One thing was remarked,—the saloons were +not as full. This was laid to dull times, and ascribed to +the "revival" of two years ago; but that had not touched +the poorer class of Irish and English, who, even during +the hardest winter, had managed to find drink-money, +when their families were being supported by the relief-store.</p> + +<p>Business did "pick up" a little. Prices went lower and +lower, however. They looked at their great store of goods +with dismay. If the currency question could ever be settled,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span> +if we could export more and import less,—though +there were people who argued that, the more money we +spent abroad, the more it really strengthened us, and +money lying idle in our treasury at home was no evidence +of prosperity: partly true and partly false reasoning; and, +to our astonishment, while we were brilliantly theorizing +how to do it, our vain and superficial neighbors across the +water, crushed and beaten down by a useless and costly +war, and a government of gigantic selfishness, went to +work with intrepid courage and industry, and did it.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile it must be confessed that Jack's interests +were very much divided. The practical part of him never +lost sight of the mill. He had the dogged tenacity that +holds on with a deathless grip until it conquers, or is +wholly beaten. It seemed to him this summer that he +had several distinct individualities. He was so deeply +interested in Fred and Sylvie! They had slipped into an +easy friendship,—a friendship in which neither crossed a +certain line, but from widely different motives. Fred's +strongest and highest one was honor toward his friend. +He began dimly to realize that high culture and refinement +of the intellectual senses, a perfect state of outward finish +and polish, did not always strengthen the soul's morality +and purity. Patience, self-sacrifice, obedience to a creed +simpler in words, and yet more comprehensive, than any +of his grand philosophies, were needed to form a strong +and manful soul. His had been so long bound about +with swaddling-clothes, airy, sensuous, fine as a gossamer +web, yet strong in beliefs and prejudices. There were +times when he felt, through that instinctive knowledge we +can never wholly define or explain, that Sylvie Barry +belonged to him, that they two could reach a point in +mental and artistic life, that she and Jack would never +attain. His whole soul cried out for her. With the +charm of self-satisfying and blinding theories swept away, +he clung passionately to the love that had been only a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span> +complacent fancy three years ago. The mere touch of +her hand, or glance of her eye, quickened and kindled his +entire soul, and made him acutely and agonizingly conscious +of the wealth of adoration he had hardly dreamed of +possessing. There were moments when her presence filled +him with a heavenly satisfaction, when he understood +that divine fusion of spirit with spirit in its entirety, when +love overcame pride, and he was humble enough to go to +her in his poverty.</p> + +<p>He tried honestly to crush out the passion, but found +that neither will nor duty could destroy love. It rose up +and swept imperiously through every pulse of his being, +it flooded his heart like a mighty current, it would fain +have drowned out his sense of honor to his friend; and +he learned presently that it was of no avail to fight battles +with this unconquerable foe. He must always love +her, therefore he could only bury the passion out of the +sight of all other eyes. To him it would be the root of +higher resolves and purer motives. When he had made +this great sacrifice for his friend, he had offered silently +the highest atonement in his power.</p> + +<p>But his temptation was not to end so soon. He was to +be led through the fire, that he might be purified and ennobled +in other virtues beside that of abnegation. He was +to learn how sacred a thing strength might become; he +was to hold the soft hand on his arm, and never clasp it, +to feel the pressure of the dainty fingers, and make no +sign; to meet her bewildering smiles with the calmness +of a strong spirit held in thrall; to listen to words that +seemed cruelly pregnant with the dangerous glamour of +hope, and yet to steel his heart against it all. In such +times as these we come to believe in a living, loving God, +who gathers up these great drops of agony as he "makes +up his jewels," and that to him this pearl of inward anguish +is above price. Then, of all times, we need to know +that he cares for us, that we are not mere atoms floating +in unregarded space.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span></p> + +<p>Dr. Maverick decided that his patient must have a +change. She had attained a certain amount of physical +strength while her brain still lay dormant, utterly exhausted +after the great drain upon it. Now it began to +act again, and, not being in sympathy with the body, consequently +re-acted upon it. She walked about her room a +little; she viewed herself in the mirror, a horrid shadow, +a mere caricature of her former beauty. Dr. Maverick +had tried his best to save her hair; but the fever had +burned out its vital essence, making it dry and harsh, so +he had uttered his reluctant edict. It was cropped short, +and had lost its gloss; her brilliant complexion was a +ghostly, sallow, opaque white, her eyes large and melancholy, +every feature sharpened into that thin, worn, hungry +appearance. "A perfect fright," she said to herself. +Why had they not let her die? Of what avail was life to +her?</p> + +<p>Before her illness, in her desperate impatience with +circumstances, she had fancied herself a martyr, with the +fagot and stake of a conventional marriage on one hand, +and the dreary desert of neglect and enforced seclusion on +the other. She had tried to make her own wretched and +passionate imaginings consume her very soul. She could +rule no longer. She could not exact homage and admiration +from society; and, though in her secret soul she +despised it, yet what was there to life beside it? No one +wanted or needed her. No human being cared for her +above all others. She had gone on in ruthless pride, +trampling, crushing, and now the great world would be +only too glad to pay her back; but it never should. Even +in this extreme bitterness of spirit an acknowledgment +of that divine rule of love was wrested from her. She +had never offered love and tenderness and sympathy to +others, and it would not come back to her: it was just +and right that it should not.</p> + +<p>Why then vegetate through a narrow, dreary existence?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span> +She was only a drag on Fred. Even if she were willing +to make an essay of work, he would not consent, partly +from pride, but still more from that innate sense of chivalry, +a part of some men, who would be more cruelly +wounded to see a woman dear to them, struggling with +distasteful toil, than to make any sacrifice on their own +part. If she were a man she would starve in secret +before it should be done. David Lawrence had in him +some of this pure, nobly generous blood; and many of his +finer virtues seemed to have been transmitted to these +two children. The mother's individuality had been absorbed +by the two elder ones. Gertrude would be just +such a woman when she came to her mother's time of life.</p> + +<p>Mr. Eastman had floated into another channel of prosperity. +He was to go to Russia as a railroad-director at +a large salary, and ample chance for speculation. Gertrude +was all elation. She wrote to Irene, generously +forgiving her for not having submitted to be buried alive +at Frodsham Park, and proposed that she should rejoin +her as soon as she was able to travel. They would go to +Vienna and Berlin, and spend the winter in St. Petersburg. +"I hope your beauty has not gone off," she wrote +very kindly. "One needs it to compare with some of the +Russian women I have seen."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Minor had taken a summer cottage at Long +Branch. Servants, children, horses and carriages, were +to go thither. Irene and her mother must spend the season +with them.</p> + +<p>"You do look dreadfully," she said to Irene; "but +moping here will not mend you. It was a most absurd +step for Fred to come back to Yerbury, and take that +paltry position! He has no real Lawrence pride, and I +don't see that his elegant education has done much for +him. Why didn't he study law, and go into politics? +With his style and Mr. Minor's connection, he might +have filled some high position."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Really," returned Irene, with a touch of the old +sarcasm, "I suppose he thought starving hardly a pleasant +process while he was waiting for this high position. I +have sometimes wondered why Mr. Minor did not take +him into <i>his</i> office, and induct him into the mysteries of +stock-broking."</p> + +<p>Agatha bit her lip.</p> + +<p>"Because he did not know enough," she flung out. +"And he will potter away his best days there at Garafield's, +never amounting to any thing! Father had better +have put him in the business."</p> + +<p>"Jack Darcy is master at Hope Mills. He was once +quite a <i>bête noir</i> of yours, I believe. He and Fred have +floated together again, an exemplification of the power of +early attraction."</p> + +<p>"He will not be master of Hope Mills long, if what I +hear is true," said Agatha in a vengeful tone, as if she +would be glad to bring about such a greatly-to-be-desired +downfall. "Fred always did have low tastes. But about +yourself: you had better come to Long Branch, and +recruit for two months, or so, and then go out to join +Gertrude. Of course, Irene, you know your best time has +gone by here. I intend that <i>my</i> daughters shall be married +before they are twenty. I will not have them wasting +their best years."</p> + +<p>There was a long pause. Agatha studied Irene's +apathetical face, and wondered how she could have +changed into such a fright.</p> + +<p>"Irene!" in a commanding tone.</p> + +<p>"Agatha, I may as well tell you,"—the voice was slow +and incisive, as if every word was measured,—"that I +shall <i>not</i> go to Long Branch nor abroad. No one shall be +troubled by my failing looks and possibly poor health. I +will live my own secluded life, asking nothing of the +world but to be let alone."</p> + +<p>"You are a fool, Irene!" Mrs. Minor scanned her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280]</a></span> +with her pitiless black eyes, and raised her own tall figure +to its most impressive height. "You are a deliberate, +wilful fool! You will maunder and groan and sigh +through the next few years, and become one of those +wretched bundles of nerves and whims and conceits, a +miserable old maid, whom the world holds up to ridicule, +and rightly too; a faded, insipid, querulous, worn-out +belle, whose past triumphs are remembered only to her +disfavor. We can forgive a woman of mother's age, who +has had her day; but the other shallow creatures are fit +only to be bundled into a convent, out of sight."</p> + +<p>A dull scarlet had slowly mounted Irene's face. She +did not raise her eyes. In an emotionless tone she +merely said, "Thank you. I wish there were convents +without the fuss of religion. I should go into one now."</p> + +<p>"The best place for you certainly."</p> + +<p>Then Mrs. Minor gave Fred a piece of her mind, and +washed her hands of Yerbury.</p> + +<p>The result of sundry after-discussions was that Dr. +Maverick found a pretty seaside place not many miles +distant, with just enough interest to keep one entertained, +and no fashionable, exhausting life. He managed to +persuade Miss Barry and Sylvie and Mrs. Lawrence to +go, and insisted upon Irene having the variety of air and +scene. There was a roomy furnished cottage at their disposal: +they could cook their meals, or have them sent in. +Fred should come down once or twice a week, and he and +Darcy would enliven them with flying visits. Miss Barry +must take her pony and carriage.</p> + +<p>Jack approved of the plan at once. It would bring the +two beings in whom he was so warmly interested more +closely in contact with each other, give them those bits +and fragments of leisurely indolence so conducive to sentiment. +Sylvie would judge more truly and tenderly than +it was possible to do at present; and he could not see her +alone, could not be her companion in walks and drives, +without betraying his regard.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span></p> + +<p>While the plan was still under consideration, Dame +Fortune resolved to smile upon Fred Lawrence. Late in +the winter he had sent a paper on household art, with several +exquisite designs, to a magazine, and for once happened +to hit the prevailing fancy. He was asked for a +series of such articles, with the offer of having them collected +in book form afterward. It more than encouraged +him: it gave him a feeling of certainty that he had struck +the right vein, that here was a fair and appreciative field +for his talent, his fine taste, and high culture. A little +utilitarian, perhaps; and he smiled, thinking of some past +dreams. And was true art so ethereal that it must exist +only in the exalted states of the mind? Was it not to +embellish and beautify all lives, rather than crowd out the +thousands that the few might feast on some exquisite +vision? Was any art higher than that which boldly thrust +aside shams, and went to the shaping of true, strong, +faithful aims in the work placed before one? Were those +wonderful Greek fragments, wrought in times of social +depravity such as the world now shrank from mentioning, +to be one's guide and inspirer, to the despising of purer +if less sensuous forms of beauty? If one enlightened +and sweetened the life of to-day with the work of to-day, +would it not be as worthy as hugging to the soul some +useless theory?</p> + +<p>He mentioned his new offer to Mr. Garafield. It would +not be honest to take the time that was another's; and +surely Fred Lawrence's mental capacity had largely +cleared when he came to put into every-day work the fine +sense of honor that he had hitherto supposed belonged +only to a liberal education.</p> + +<p>Mr. Garafield was a shrewd business-man, although +fanciful in taste. He should be the gainer by associating +this true artist with him. Decorative art was coming to +be a truly recognized branch; and its leaders and apostles +would reap not only credit, but financial success.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span></p> + +<p>Fred was amazed. Only yesterday, it seemed, he had +well-nigh been refused the privilege of earning his bread. +To-day, in an unexpected quarter, prosperity opened +upon him.</p> + +<p>"I have no capital, as you well know," he said stammeringly +to Mr. Garafield.</p> + +<p>Garafield smiled and nodded in a satisfied manner.</p> + +<p>"The brain-work and the ideas are sufficient capital, +Mr. Lawrence. By this partnership you will be free of +drudgery: some other clerk can keep books and take +orders for us. You will gain time for your literary labors, +and those in turn will carry weight in the business. +Neither do I think you will regret taking my offer."</p> + +<p>Fred went down to Jack Darcy's that evening, and told +over his plans, as in other years he had confessed his college +ambitions and the laurels he was to win. And +Jack's face lighted up with honest enthusiasm, while his +voice took on a curious little tremble. He was so glad! +for Sylvie's sake and love's sake.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[283]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXII.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">When</span> Fred Lawrence came next day into Sylvie +Barry's presence, there was a certain proud humility +shining in his handsome face, that was now quite worn +and thin; a dignity born of honor in having achieved at +least a standing-place in the world. He was not her hero, +never had been indeed; and his pale face flushed at the +remembrance of his once complacent claim to her regard.</p> + +<p>She was sitting in the room with his mother, but she +sprang up from the low ottoman.</p> + +<p>"I am so glad! your mother has been telling me the +news. Why, it is"—</p> + +<p>She had held out her hands as she began her sentence, +but as he took them she made a sudden pause. His were +icy cold.</p> + +<p>"More than I could have expected in such a brief while, +hardly at all. Both offers have surprised me greatly."</p> + +<p>He strove so hard to render his tone calm, that it was +absolutely cold.</p> + +<p>She turned with a petulant but charming gesture, while +her peachy cheek took on a riper tint.</p> + +<p>"You are not a bit enthusiastic," in that pretty, imperious, +chiding tone. "I suppose you think good fortune +ought to fall down upon you, be thrust on you, like +greatness."</p> + +<p>"No. I am very thankful for it. I can give my +mother and sister some needed indulgences that it would +have pained me very much to see them go without. How +is Irene?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[284]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I don't know," said Mrs. Lawrence fretfully. "She +does mope so. I shall be so glad to get away."</p> + +<p>"I have just come from the doctor's. We are to start +on Thursday. Sylvie, are you all ready?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," with a positive little nod.</p> + +<p>He stepped into the next room. Irene had been worse +after Mrs. Minor's visit, but was the same again now, +quiet, cold, impassible. It made no difference to her +whether they remained here, or went to Depford Beach. +She evinced neither pain, pleasure, nor interest; but she +liked best to be alone. She endured Sylvie with rather +more equanimity than she did her mother, but even the +fault-finding energy would have been welcome to the doctor. +Nothing mattered: that was the trouble.</p> + +<p>She heard now they were to go in two days. The cottage +was all ready. Martha and Miss Barry's trusty +handmaiden were to do the housekeeping. The place +was so arranged, with the spacious hall through the +middle, that each family could be by itself.</p> + +<p>"I have ordered a carriage to come every day for you +and mother," Fred said quietly. "I thought you would +like it better than being dependent on Miss Barry."</p> + +<p>Irene gave a slow, acquiescent nod.</p> + +<p>"Good-by," cried Sylvie, looking in. "I will run +over again to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"I wanted her to stay to tea," said Mrs. Lawrence +complainingly. "It is so dull!"</p> + +<p>"I will come up and take tea with you. I will order +it at once." And he ran down.</p> + +<p>There was a subtle perfume in the hall. She had a +bunch of violets in her belt, he remembered. He said +over softly Ben Jonson's quaint lines,—</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"Here she was wont to go, and here, and here,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Just where the daisies, pinks, and violets grow:</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">The world may find the spring by following her."</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>But he could not follow. Had fate smiled on him to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[285]</a></span> +make the renunciation more bitter? For now he could +work his way up to something worthy of her acceptance. +And had he not learned the past winter, had he not +been slowly learning ever since the death and loss, that +the manhood of a gentleman was his thoughtfulness for +others, his courteous delicacy, his consideration, often +his denial of self, rather than the exquisite polish of +cultivation, and the veneer of society's affectations? How +blind he must have been, ever to have offered these last to +a woman so true and pure of soul!</p> + +<p>But a still larger sacrifice had been demanded of him. +He must see her in seductive solitudes, in still more intimate +association. If he could stay away from Depford +Beach! but that was not possible. He was to spend Sundays +with them. But surely Jack would be there then. +An almost careless lover he thought his friend. Was +every smile so dear to him?</p> + +<p>The doctor and Fred went down with them. Darcy +had decided to take a business trip, so presently Mrs. +Darcy joined the seaside household. In the bygone years +Mrs. Lawrence would not have deigned to notice her; +but she found this delicate, mild-mannered, middle-aged +woman very companionable. Circumstances had rendered +Mrs. Darcy exclusive, rather than any inherent +trait of birth or breeding. She had lived with a few +people always, and two or three strong attachments had +given to her character the kind of concentration that +passes for strength. Yet all of these had been more +positive people than herself; and while this had softened +the tendency to that querulous exactingness that weak, +sweet natures are apt to possess, it had also shaped to +certain generous instincts that were quite free from +vanity. Her natural kindliness gave her the charm of +good-breeding, and this settled her in the estimation of +Mrs. Lawrence. She might have possessed all the virtues +in the calendar, but an inharmonious, unpolished<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[286]</a></span> +turn or act would have tabooed her. We generally +ascribe this grace to life-long culture, or a certain inheritance +of blood, but it occasionally springs from other +causes.</p> + +<p>The three women, with natures and aims widely different, +fraternized in the most amiable manner. Sylvie +glanced in and out between them as a gleam of sunshine +penetrates the interstices of a wood, and brings out all +lights and tints, itself untouched by any. Their greatest +diversion was driving. Back of the little settlement—it +was hardly large enough for a village, and had a powerful +rival some seven miles farther on—there were country +lanes and by-ways, sleepy-looking farms, and picturesquely +careless houses. Below them there was a great fish <i>entrepôt</i>, +with fishing-boats plying up and down, brawny fishermen +trilling their musical half-chant, half-song, as they +floated over the bay.</p> + +<p>It was curious how, presently, Sylvie came to watch +for Fred. Truth to tell, she found Depford Beach a trifle +monotonous. No interest of schools or clubs or young +people's affairs, no strong energetic talks with Jack about +mill business, few people coming and going that she +cared about; the three ladies purring through the drowsy +hours on topics that she fancied she had exhausted years +ago; and Irene, between whom and her there had never +been any real electric sympathy, and who was now coldly +indifferent to all matters. For hours she would sit with +her hands dropped nerveless in her lap, glancing over the +wide sea out to the farther horizon. What thoughts were +in her mind, Sylvie wondered? She could not even provoke +her to the wordy combats of old. The flashes of +temper and imperiousness had alike died out. She was +courteously polite, and acknowledged all favors with a +punctiliousness that built the wall around her still more +firmly. "If one could only rouse her," Dr. Maverick +said; but that seemed just the thing no one <i>could</i> do.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[287]</a></span></p> + +<p>Yet she certainly was improving in health. Her step +became more assured, her eye less languid, and her complexion +cleared up to the hopeful tints of renewed bodily +vigor. Her slender hands filled out a trifle; and sometimes +she would take a book, as if she needed an interest +beside her own sombre thoughts to while away the hours.</p> + +<p>So Sylvie established her easel, and had recourse to +painting. Oddly enough she began to ask herself what it +was all for? Filling her own rooms, and bestowing gifts +upon friends, was very well for a season; but was there +not a higher purpose in all art, or at least a wider purpose? +It surely did not tend to isolation. She thought +of her winter in Philadelphia,—of the friends she had +made, of the desires that had been awakened. She +longed for some purpose, some sympathy and aim. The +enthusiasms of girlhood could no longer inspire her: there +must be a reality and definite end, or work lost its great +charm. How was she to get to this? Her aunt was coming +to depend upon her in a peculiar way, that at times +startled Sylvie. She would say, with her quiet, tender +smile, "Will you do this or that, Sylvie? I believe I am +growing indolent: I never thought to so like being waited +upon."</p> + +<p>The secret in Miss Barry's soul was well kept. In how +many lives there comes a demand for heroism greater than +that which led the martyrs of old to the stake, or the +brave women in the reign of terror to the guillotine! +Their inspiration to bravery was patent to all around: +their cause was a lofty one, and they were apostles of +that high creed of self-abnegation which leaves behind a +memory in the hearts of all noble men and women. But +there are other pangs quite noiseless: there are other martyrs +who suffer without the sign, who cannot even confess +the reason for the high faith that upholds them.</p> + +<p>It was quite natural that she should desire to see Sylvie +married. She could never get over her distaste of having<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[288]</a></span> +women taking bold strides for the world's fame and favor. +If left alone, this was what Sylvie would surely do. The +delicate womanly charities and kindnesses that had filled +up so much of her life would not satisfy her niece. And, +now that she had brought herself to the point of satisfaction +with Jack Darcy, either she had mistaken their regard, +or he was proving himself an indifferent lover. By a +subtile intuition, she understood that Fred still cared for +her, nay, that he held now a reverent admiration that he +had never thought of in the past. His melancholy eyes +followed her about, now and then scintillating sparks of +passion that seemed almost to rend his soul. She experienced +an intense and exquisite sympathy for him that drew +them together in a manner that he felt, and was grateful +for, but did not clearly understand.</p> + +<p>As for Sylvie, curiously enough, she was at war with +herself, though she wore such a calm, light-hearted exterior. +When she rejected Fred Lawrence, she was quite +sure she despised the present man, and his narrow, futile +purposes of life. Truly, to have been the wife of such a +man would have proved irksome to the last degree. But +his misfortunes had brought out the fine gold, the solemn +strain of strength and endurance, that had come from his +father's blood. I think even Sylvie had been a little +mortified first, that he should have come back to Yerbury, +and taken such a very inferior position. She wanted him +to do something noteworthy with his pen and his high +cultivation. It seemed so much choice material quite +thrown away. Designing patterns was surely no high test +of genius. Women with a purely technical art education +had done it.</p> + +<p>But out of it had come this other opportunity that he +had grasped with the pure instinct of genius. Employment +for pen and pencil both, for the embodiment of the +exquisite outward forms of beauty, and the rare, delicate, +inward graces of imagination, for the true standards of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[289]</a></span> +taste and art in which he had been informing himself all +these years; in the spirit of dilettanteism, it was true, but +now when the intellectual impetus was added, and the +positive need of daily bread, these complicated motives +worked together as a strong stimulant. Perhaps, too, he +had a not unworthy desire to show Sylvie Barry that the +man who had loved her was not utterly unworthy or incapable.</p> + +<p>They had drifted together again in the ordinary purposes +of life, which, after all, occur much more frequently +than any grand or overwhelming shock. She took up the +friendly, half-sisterly way, pleased with the instinctive +deference he paid her. He understood that it would be +quite useless to aspire to any regard of hers: that was +all done with in the past. She could afford to evince an +interest in his plans, since Irene cared not, and to his +mother they were so much Greek, a subtle flavor that she +admitted was the proper thing, but could not understand,—did +not care to trouble herself, in fact.</p> + +<p>So these two young people, working in a common bond +of sympathy, insensibly strengthened the regard that had +grown with them from childhood. Fred gained sufficient +courage to discuss some plans with Sylvie: she brought +out her easel, as I have said, and accepted from him +friendly criticisms. The difference between their work +was soon manifest,—he had an earnest purpose, with +breadth and scope: she had none. How had they so +queerly changed places? she asked herself. Why were +not her talents made of some avail, instead of this puerile +pottering to please one's self?</p> + +<p>She began to wonder—dangerously fascinating employment +to a woman—if he had ever cared for her. +There seemed an adamantine wall built up around him, +and yet the fruit in the inner garden was more rarely +sweet than she had ever dreamed it could be. She could +not know that the passion for her he had put away with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[290]</a></span> +such despairing hands, was blossoming all the sweeter, +and bearing more exquisite fruit in other directions. She +saw the lovely tenderness toward his mother, the unwearying +patience with Irene, the fearless, animating +ambition that seemed to have set his æsthetic desires to a +steady, comprehensive strain of music, to which he was +keeping invisible step, but which thrilled and roused every +fibre.</p> + +<p>All this he had done without any assistance from her, +she thought, blind little girl; as if the kinship of a true +passion could not reach from the life that went before to +that which was to come afterward! <i>She</i> had not inspired +his genius, but stern necessity; it had been no longing or +desire to win <i>her</i>, but the material support of his mother +and sister. She began to feel curiously jealous of these +extraneous influences. She unconsciously exerted herself +to make his visits at the beach more interesting. +They drove together in her pony-carriage; they studied +glowing summer sunsets, where fantastic clouds piled up +wealth of gold and amber and purple and opaline splendors, +and shot out arrowy, dazzling rays; they paced the +sands after it had all faded into tintless space, and delicate +vapors of grayish green and vague violet rose from +the crested waves that broke far out at sea, and trooped +across like airy spirits; they listened to the slow, regular +rhythm that came marching from some weird country, +with a grand crash at last, a sobbing crescendo, and an +interval of silence that still pulsated on the dusky, odorous +air, when the moaning billow was dead.</p> + +<p>They came so near to Nature, there were moments +when they seemed empowered to wrest the shadowy secrets +out of her bosom; and yet they did not come near +to each other. Ever this distance between,—a man's +honor, and faith to his friend, Fred Lawrence thought, +never allowing his secret soul to swerve. There were +midnights when he softly paced the floor, his lips compressed,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[291]</a></span> +his brow ghostly white, and his hands clinched +in the throe of a man's deathless love. Then he thought +he could not endure it, that he must stay away. But +circumstances were stronger than will. Did God mean +that this anguish should redeem that other old treachery, +that his soul should be purified by its baptism of fire, a +more worthy offering for his friend? If so, then he must +not abate one jot or one pang.</p> + +<p>There were within Sylvie Barry's soul certain coquettish +instincts. She was fond of admiration for herself: a +purely intellectual regard, with the passion-dream flown, +would soon have wearied her. A warm, bright nature, +loving to please others, but to be pleased in return, cruelly +hurt by surging against this rock-bound coast, piqued and +almost angered, sent into moods of daring, seductive +warmth and gayety, quite capable of making a foil of +Dr. Maverick, who was strangely puzzled by her contradictory +moods. But for one thing, he must have tried to +cage the dazzling, elusive spirit: he, too, had a strong +sense of honor toward his friend; and he could only +imagine her playing sportively with the few who came +within her radius, not setting herself to win any forbidden +regard. What might have made some women sad and +silent—the consciousness that an old lover had over-lived +his passion—seemed to sting her into renewed effort.</p> + +<p>Coming back to them, Jack Darcy was more than +puzzled, set at sea in a bewildering way, without chart or +compass. Had Fred ceased to care for Sylvie? Had +she never loved him? Or was some other feeling holding +him back,—a kind of family complication, a sense of +duty to the others so high that he would not offer them +a divided regard, any sooner than her? He believed +mothers had a peculiar sense of possession in their sons; +but they surely had married other women's sons with +small scruple! Mrs. Lawrence was warmly attached to +Sylvie. In his honest, inconsequent man-fashion, he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[292]</a></span> +wondered why they could not always live together, as they +were doing here.</p> + +<p>Fred was strangely worn and thin, with the kind of +nervous alertness that accompanies an intent watching of +one's self.</p> + +<p>"Hillo, old fellow!" cried Jack; "what have you +been doing? Working yourself to a shadow? If high +art is so exhaustive, there must be a little let-up. A +man has no more right to kill himself in an artistic industrial +way, than in any of the ruder forms of suicide."</p> + +<p>Fred shivered visibly.</p> + +<p>"Don't speak of suicide," he answered in a shrinking +tone. "I never thought of it but once; and that was +when I fancied myself of no use to the world, or myself +either. I am not overworked"—and he paused, to +study Jack a moment. Why, he was positively handsome, +with that superabundant strength and vitality, the +clear red and white of his complexion, the bronze beard, +the healthful, honest eyes. He seemed to be surcharged +with a magnetic current of energy and courage.</p> + +<p>"Yes, you are. I dare say you have carried your plans +and sketches, and what not, down to Depford Beach, and +pored over them until almost morning. You must take +a vacation."</p> + +<p>"I expect to when the families return;" and he gave +a faint, wan smile. "I have had another streak of luck, +Jack. A lady, a very wealthy widow, is building a house +in one of the pretty towns up the Hudson, and it is to be +finished with all the elegance art can bring. She saw one +of my articles, and sent to me; and we have been corresponding. +In September I am to go to New York, and +make arrangements. There is to be painting and frescoing, +and rooms finished in different styles,—indeed, I +cannot tell the half myself, until I see her."</p> + +<p>The pale face had kindled with a fine and proud enthusiasm. +More than ever, Jack recognized the artistic<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[293]</a></span> +refinement of his friend. What would law or medicine +have been to him as a profession?</p> + +<p>"Humph!" grunted Jack. "A great vacation that +will be! But you <i>must</i> be careful, or you will not live +out half your days. You've a look in your face like the +little chap I first knew."</p> + +<p>The smile that crossed it then, Jack did not understand. +It seemed to Fred Lawrence that half his days +would suffice, when Sylvie Barry was his friend's wife.</p> + +<p>"Yet you see the 'little chap' lived"—with an +attempt at gayety.</p> + +<p>"Yes. And, Fred, I am more glad than I can put +into words, to know that you have been so successful. +It is just the career for you. It's odd that a great commonplace, +blundering fellow like me should have two such +artistic friends as you and Sylvie Barry."</p> + +<p>The well-trained face did not blanch a muscle. He +felt, with a flash of subtile inner consciousness, that +Darcy was studying him. Thank God, he could stand +before his friend free from a thought of treachery! All +these weeks he had walked over burning coals, but the +smell of the fire was not in his garments.</p> + +<p>Jack thought it over long after Fred had gone. Why +could not these two people see! Surely they were meant +for one another. It puzzled, it almost fretted him. +Sylvie was so peculiar, so changed in these few weeks! +What did it all mean?</p> + +<p>And on Saturday when he was to go down to the beach, +Fred pleaded some urgent business to a neighboring city. +He was not quite brave enough to see them together.</p> + +<p>"I have been meaning to go for some time," he said +with gravity, "but I did not like to think they would be +alone over Sunday. Now that you will be there, I certainly +can spare three or four days."</p> + +<p>"See here," returned Jack,—"wait until Monday. +Come, we'll have a nice day together down there on the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[294]</a></span> +sands. Sundays always seem so wonderful by the ocean, +with the grand chant forever in your ears. The very +waves are saying,—</p> + +<div class='center'> +"'Let every thing that hath breath praise the Lord.'"<br /> +</div> + +<p>But Fred Lawrence would not suffer himself to be persuaded.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[295]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXIII.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Jack Darcy's</span> business-tour, while it had not been productive +of any great financial results, had restored his +healthy mental equilibrium. He found other firms were +having it just as hard, and that the country was still overrun +with men willing to work for any wages. Prices were +certainly falling. All kinds of raw products were offered +at the very lowest figure; and, labor being so cheap, manufactured +goods must perforce be low. Men were not +now counting on a speedy return to good times and high +prices: they began to admit that the latter were the outcome +of extravagant speculation. They bought what they +wanted, and no more. They gave no extensive credits, +and now really appeared to be anxious to reach a permanent +basis.</p> + +<p>"We shall have to sell most of our stock at cost," he +said to Winston. "Lucky to get that, I suppose. And +we shall come out about even—no profits for this six +months. Still, we shall not run back, and that is something +gained."</p> + +<p>"We can count on the new goods, I'm pretty sure," +returned Winston. "I've had some inquiries, and sent +samples. Some of the fancy overcoatings are to be duplicated. +That looks like business."</p> + +<p>It did, indeed. Jack sat at his desk, ruminating upon +it, and feeling as if at last they saw a light through the +woods, when a step startled him, because it was not the +kind of step usually heard through that hall, so he turned.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[296]</a></span> +It was Fred Lawrence, with a face of ashen pallor. Jack +sprang up, dazed with the vision.</p> + +<p>"I was to come and tell you—Maverick has gone to +Depford Beach—Miss Barry is very ill, and they have +telegraphed for him. He left word—that we were to +come."</p> + +<p>The voice had a strained, unnatural sound; and the +eyes looked like those that have wept out a passionate +sorrow, and are dry from despair.</p> + +<p>"Ill—Miss Barry—not Sylvie?"</p> + +<p>Could he speak of her in that calm tone? A passion +of rage swelled in Fred's heart, and flushed his face. +Only a moment, for the great throb of thankfulness that +it was <i>not</i> Sylvie restored him.</p> + +<p>"It is Miss Barry. You will go?"</p> + +<p>The tone had that peculiar, wandering cadence, as if +somehow the soul had dropped out of it.</p> + +<p>"Certainly," and Jack sprang up, puzzled by something +quite intangible in Fred's demeanor.</p> + +<p>"There are just twenty minutes to catch this train. +The eight-ten does not stop at Depford, you know."</p> + +<p>"True: I will just speak to Winston"—</p> + +<p>"I will meet you at the station," returned Fred hurriedly, +turning away.</p> + +<p>Much as he loved Jack, it seemed as if he could not +walk to the station with him. A feeling of profound pity +for Sylvie rose in his heart. This man, noble, generous, +helpful, and affectionate, had not the finely responsive +nature Sylvie Barry needed. There would be some distance +or coldness, or, worse still, a fatal dissonance. One +part of her nature must remain unmated: her soul would +have a language in which he would not only be deaf, but +wholly dumb. He could express no more than the possibilities +of his nature. It was not the fine and essential +difference between man and woman, but that more fatal +gulf in which there would appear no certain glimpses of a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[297]</a></span> +royally endowed love in all its spontaneity, its glow of +feeling, its variation of rich emotions. How would she, +with her versatile, changeful soul, with its cycle of moods, +ever live in the strong, steady prison of his heart!</p> + +<p>If he had thought perfect honor to his friend the greatest +trial of his life, what was this to be? He could not +stay and see the slow, consuming inward fire that would +burn her soul to ashes while it was still in the body. +Thank God, he could go away, would go soon indeed, and +never return! He would nerve himself for these few days +of torture.</p> + +<p>Jack waited on the platform until the last moment. +The bell was ringing when Fred appeared, and the strong +arm grasped him. They sat side by side, but were silent +after one question as to the nature of Miss Barry's illness. +Never had they been further divided in heart, for in the +days when there had been no semblance of friendship the +trivial repulsion was not to be compared to this wall of +adamant. Fred would not have gone at all but for his +mother's sake, although his heart was with Sylvie through +every instant of her trial.</p> + +<p>The house was very quiet when they reached it. Maverick +came to meet them, and was as sorely puzzled as Fred +by the certain composure of Darcy's face.</p> + +<p>"It was not altogether unexpected by her or myself," +Maverick explained in answer to their inquiries. "It is +the result of a complication of disorders, some of long +standing and incurable; and the present effect is partial +paralysis. I hoped change of air and a quiet summer +would delay what we knew must come before many +years."</p> + +<p>Darcy was astonished beyond measure. He would +sooner have thought of his own mother dying. True, he +remembered now that Miss Barry had been about less, +and looked rather more delicate, and that through the +summer she had kept extremely quiet. So amazed was +he, that at first he quite forgot about Sylvie.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[298]</a></span></p> + +<p>Fred Lawrence paced the floor in an agony. Would +the man never ask the question that was torturing him, +because he had no right to ask it first!</p> + +<p>"How is my mother?" was his huskily tremulous inquiry, +as he still went up and down like a caged lion.</p> + +<p>"The shock was really terrible to her. Mrs. Darcy was +invaluable," bowing to Jack. "But for her, Sylvie would +have been in despair,"—looking furtively at the broad, +slightly bowed figure.</p> + +<p>"Poor Sylvie!" he murmured, "poor Sylvie!"</p> + +<p>Fred turned to the door, compressing his lips over a +throb of anguish.</p> + +<p>"Of course," began Maverick, "they must all be removed +as soon as possible. I think it would be well +for Mrs. Lawrence and her daughter to go to-morrow. +Neither is strong enough to bear any prolonged strain."</p> + +<p>"Yes." Fred's heart swelled within him. They were +all to be thrust aside as quickly as possible. This was +Sylvie's sorrow—sacred to her and Jack.</p> + +<p>He went to his mother's room. She was lying on a +couch, and was still hysterical. From her he heard the +story; and though, as ever, she was selfishly alive to her +own sufferings, she evinced an almost motherly tenderness +in her sympathy for Sylvie.</p> + +<p>Fred spoke of the return. If it could be to-morrow; +if he could settle them in their own home, and go quite +away for a while! he thought.</p> + +<p>"And leave Sylvie here alone?" said his mother reproachfully.</p> + +<p>"I do not know what you can do for—for Miss Barry." +How studiously cold and calm the tone was! "The doctor +wishes to remove her as speedily as possible. I thought +we would be out of the way, at least."</p> + +<p>"It <i>is</i> terrible here; and if you considered it quite right—the +summer is so nearly ended, and the nights are +growing cool,—yes, we might go."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[299]</a></span></p> + +<p>They settled it over their quiet supper. "Miss Barry +was comfortable," Martha said, "and Miss Sylvie was +lying down."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Lawrence retired early, her nerves were so shattered +by the terrible incident. Irene had disappeared; +and, when Fred could stand his loneliness no longer, he +went to walk upon the beach.</p> + +<p>It was a moonless night, but with an intensely blue sky +that gave the Milky Way the appearance of a luminous +trail across the heavens. The murmur of the waves +seemed sad and softened, and they touched the heart of +the man who paced beside them. Once he had held so +much in his hands! Surely he could have won the love +of this woman then. Oh the blind, insensate, idiotic +folly! He could have thrust his own soul down here on +the sand, and trampled the very life out of it!</p> + +<p>Hark! some one was coming with hasty strides. With +the wild instinct of a wounded animal he turned to flee, +and yet—whither should he go?</p> + +<p>The hand was on his shoulder. The well-known voice +uttered his name, and he turned at bay.</p> + +<p>"Sylvie"—</p> + +<p>"Don't repeat her name to me!" he flung out, beside +himself with passionate jealousy and love. And then +their eyes met, the one lurid with an emotion well-nigh +beyond control, the other wondering, pitiful, amazed.</p> + +<p>"Yes, let me go my way. I had not meant you to +know it; but once—yes, I will confess it to you—I +scorned you to her. God knows how I have repented; +for I was beside myself then, blinded with my own folly +and arrogance. And now you have won the woman I +love, whom I shall always love, and it will be at once my +bliss and my punishment. Take your triumph—tell her +that her erring knight came back, and paid her the highest +homage of his soul." Then, in a sudden, changed +tone, freighted with a pain that pierced the other's heart,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[300]</a></span> +he cried, "Jack Darcy, I have made amends for that +selfish blunder of my young manhood. For weeks I have +endured such pangs, that Heaven grant you may never +know! I have walked by her side with polar wastes +between us; I have touched her hand with fingers that +have had no more passion in them than the dead; I have +watched her dewy lips ripe with kisses, and remembered +they were for you; I have been true, <i>true</i> in word and +deed and desire, but in thought I must love her to her +life's end. I will go quite away"—</p> + +<p>Up to this point his words had come with the heat and +flow of a lava-torrent. Now his impassioned voice faltered, +trembled, and seemed to lose itself.</p> + +<p>Jack Darcy stood transfixed. Was it a dream? Had +Fred been so blind all this while? He essayed speech; +but the lines about his mouth were constricted, and his +breath came in quivering gasps, as the vision of torture, +suffered for honor's sake, rose up before him. Ah! if +ever he <i>had</i> sinned,—and the temporary forgetfulness +appeared such a little thing to Jack's generous soul,—he +had redeemed himself nobly.</p> + +<p>"Oh! you thought—she doesn't love me, Fred,—not +in that way," and his voice had the full, throbbing inflection +of a great joy. "We are friends, such as a man and +a woman can truly be. Do you not understand that some +people are so alike they run in parallels? there are no +angles to create the intense friction of love, they are so +evenly balanced that there is no desire for possessorship, +they have just as wholesome an influence over each other +remaining apart. There is hardly Sylvie's equal in the +world. Half that I am, I owe her."</p> + +<p>Had the night changed? Was the world flooded with +a serene and tender light? Was the moaning ocean filled +with the wondrous music of immortal love and longing, +reaching out to glad fruition? Was that sudden rare +peace, creating a reverential atmosphere about him, an<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[301]</a></span> +earnest of days to come? He experienced a vivid lightness +as if he were being borne on clouds, while fragments +of delicious remembrances floated through his brain. +The very refinement of his nature seemed to exalt him +to that high heaven of love, whose solemn mysteries it is +not lawful to utter.</p> + +<p>"I cannot quite understand"—in a curious dreamy +tone, still spelled by the mastery of impassioned emotion—"how +you could miss loving Sylvie; how she, woman-like, +could help adoring you for your strength and heroism. +Jack, if I were a woman, your very power would compel +me to worship you. I should love you, whether or no."</p> + +<p>Jack gave a bright, cheerful laugh. "It is that kind +of strength you like in Sylvie," he made answer. "She +will always spur a man up to his best. Her well-trained +ear is quick to detect a false note in honor, ambition, or +love. She will never be any kind of dead weight, and yet +she is so deliciously womanly. There was a time—don't +be vexed, Fred,"—in a tender, pleading tone,—"when +I thought you were not going to be worthy of her. But +that is past."</p> + +<p>"She rejected me then," Fred Lawrence said simply. +"I offered her my father's wealth, the home he had made, +my own folly and arrogance and self-conceit; and then, +Jack, she boldly admitted that you were her hero! When +I consider the sort of man my training and surroundings +made me, I am filled with disgust. And yet I was no +worse than hundreds of others at the present day. When +I look at my mother, Irene, and myself, I feel that we +were the product of the so-called culture of the day, +which substitutes shallow creeds, conventional manners, +and systems, for all that is pure, strong, and noble in manhood +or womanhood. It is the sort of Greek temperament +on which we pride our intellectual selves. We revel in a +glowing, sensuous enjoyment, that intoxicates the brain, +and leads us to disdain the real work of the world. We<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[302]</a></span> +are trained to consider what society demands of us; we +are polished and refined, and in too many instances left +morally weak and ignorant. No wonder so many of us +have not the strength to buffet across the stormy sea of +hard experience, but are lost in the great whirlpool!"</p> + +<p>Jack peered into the pale, handsome face by the faint +light. Surely this man had to make a tremendous effort +for salvation, when nearly every tide had been against +him! He experienced a keener sympathy than he could +express; he drew the arm within his, and they paced up +and down again in silence, understanding dimly the sacred +mysteries of each other's hearts, that needed not to be +dragged to open day for inspection. In a pure friendship, +faith is the highest element: with that there is supreme +content; without it, distrust gnaws like a canker-worm.</p> + +<p>They heard the little church-clock striking ten, and +turned their steps toward the house. On the porch, Fred +paused a moment, while an icy fear seemed to wring every +pulse. He turned cold with apprehension.</p> + +<p>"What if I have been deluding myself!" he cried with +sudden intensity. "Even if you and she could not love, +she may have no such regard for me as I desire. I could +not endure her pity."</p> + +<p>A warm, hopeful, generous smile illumined Jack Darcy's +face. His hand thrilled with an electric force and sympathy.</p> + +<p>"I have no fear," he answered; "but I will not dim +the grace of your exquisite joy by any prediction."</p> + +<p>They entered the quiet room. Dr. Maverick came out +to meet them.</p> + +<p>"Miss Sylvie is asleep," he said. "Miss Barry is +comparatively comfortable. Hester will stay with her +through the night. I have sent your mother to bed," +nodding to Jack. "I do not know what we should have +done without her. I shall camp down on the sofa, to be +within call; and to-morrow we had better begin the process +of removal."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[303]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I had arranged to take my family," remarked Fred +Lawrence, not exactly certain now that it was best.</p> + +<p>"Your house must be opened and aired thoroughly, +before any one goes into it. So must Miss Barry's. Miss +Morgan will see to this, I think. I am compelled to return +in the early morning train, for I have some critical +cases. One of you had better remain here."</p> + +<p>He looked at Jack as he said this, but was amazed at +the frank answer,—</p> + +<p>"Fred will remain."</p> + +<p>He studied Jack with almost angry intentness. Had he +been so mistaken in the man? Could he so calmly leave +the woman he loved to bear her terrible trial alone, or did +he think his mother's sympathy sufficient for her? And, +although there were many admirable qualities in Fred +Lawrence, the two had never fraternized with the deep +cordiality that must underlie all friendships. They had +not the magnetic attraction for each other that Darcy held +for both.</p> + +<p>"What do you think of Miss Barry?" the latter asked +hesitatingly.</p> + +<p>"It is the beginning of the end;" and Maverick sighed, +as he thought of the impotence of human skill past a +certain point. "Miss Barry consulted me a year ago, and +was not in ignorance; but I hoped, nay, felt assured, with +care and quiet her life might be prolonged. She may +linger some months, and it may all be ended in a week. +Good heavens! what a shock for Miss Sylvie!"</p> + +<p>He took two or three turns across the floor.</p> + +<p>"Go," he said abruptly, with an imperious wave of +the hand. Then, a little scornfully, "You will both be +better in bed. Lawrence looks as if I might have him for +a patient to-morrow; but, Jack, are you made out of +adamant?"</p> + +<p>The thrust hurt him, but Maverick was not in a pitying +mood. Indeed, just at this moment his temper was savage.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[304]</a></span> +He had witnessed the pain and the suffering of the +woman he had begun to love, until it had been hard to refrain +from taking her in his strong arms, and sheltering +her from the keenest pangs.</p> + +<p>The household remained the next morning as he had +ordered. He was rather sulky all the way up in the train +with Jack; but a talk with brisk, pungent Miss Morgan +quite restored him.</p> + +<p>"Open the houses, and build fires immediately," he +commanded. "Burn up and blow out the confined air, +that there shall be no pestilential foes to greet them on +their own hearths."</p> + +<p>He went down again that evening. If he had been +annoyed before, he was puzzled now. There had been no +word spoken between Fred and Sylvie; but the now, to +her, sweet knowledge had come in a gesture, a glance, +that could no more be described than the fine pulse of love +can be dissected. She seemed to have waited breathless +for just this strength and support. A hasty lover might +have placed himself in the foreground. It was as if he +said, "Here is my love, take it, use it, rely upon it; you +cannot wear it out, you cannot wound or hurt it by any +thing that may look like coldness; it is a blessed atmosphere +to surround you until you stretch out your hand, and +draw me into your very soul. I have been trained in +patience and humility; only let me prove myself worthy in +your eyes."</p> + +<p>Three days after, they all came up to Yerbury. The +evening before, Irene Lawrence had gone to Sylvie's room, +and found her kneeling by the open window, her face +turned heavenward in a wordless prayer for strength. She +knelt beside her, she took the passive hands in hers, she +even touched her own cold lips to the colder forehead of the +other.</p> + +<p>"Sylvie,"—the tone still had the awful dreariness of +that utter inward living,—"Sylvie, I have been drawn to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[305]</a></span> +you in this your anguish by some power quite outside of +myself. I think we have always liked each other in a +curious way, but we were neither of us sentimental girls. +I could not cry over you now, nor kiss you with effusive +fondness; but I wish, oh, how passionately I wish, I could +save you one pang! I wish I could die in <i>her</i> place! My +life is of so little value"—</p> + +<p>"I believe God is right," Sylvie answered with a great +struggle. "She has used her life so well; she has garnered +ripened sheaves of mercy and kindliness and good +works. There is not only golden wheat, but the sweetness +of rose and violet, the pungent purity and strength +of heliotrope, the use, the beauty, every thing. She is +ready."</p> + +<p>"And I am not worthy to be taken even for a ransom!" +said the proud, cold voice, not betraying any +inward hurt.</p> + +<p>"God does not mean that. You are to shape your life +to something better. Irene, did you ever think how easy +it might be to die for those we love, but oh, so hard to +live for <i>them</i>, not ourselves!"</p> + +<p>Irene rose, and stood there like a statue. Sylvie felt +for the hand, pressed it to her lips, folded it about her +chin in a softly caressing manner. How had Irene become +dear to her?</p> + +<p>"I am no heroine, Sylvie. I have been tossed up by +the breakers of fortune, and am out of joint, broken, +bruised, of no avail."</p> + +<p>"You can comfort <i>me</i>. You can help to give me +strength and sympathy. You can become a warm, living, +active woman. There is always room for such in the +world, and a work for them to do. God never put an +idle or useless thing in the world, much more a human +soul; and it must go sadly astray before it comes to +despair. Irene, you will not shut your heart again, you +will turn its warm side to me, you will take me in, with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[306]</a></span> +my great sorrow;" and she buried her face in the other's +dress, with a shivering sob.</p> + +<p>"I will do—what you wish. I am physically strong +again. Let me help you—anywhere, anyhow. You were +so good and patient through my dreary time."</p> + +<p>Then she stole softly away, astonished at herself. +Within was still the coldness of Alpine glaciers. But oh, +if she might be warmed!</p> + +<p>Miss Barry's journey was performed in an easy carriage. +A paralysis of the lower limbs had supervened; +but otherwise she had rallied a little, and her mind was +clear and cheerful. There was only to be a peaceful +waiting for the end, no feverish fluctuations of hope and +fear. It was curious how they settled themselves to the +fact. A nurse was installed for night watching and the +more onerous part; and the invalid's room took on a +pleasant aspect,—Christiana waiting on this side of the +river.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[307]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXIV.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">For</span> the first time in his life, and for some unfathomable +cause, Jack Darcy found business cares irksome. Balance-time +was at hand. He was a little tired of the dreary +round. The men's disaffection re-acted upon him. With +his keen and intelligent faculty of making the best of +every thing, he was disappointed because he had failed to +inspire others with it.</p> + +<p>"It's not so bad, after all. We have nothing that can +be passed to capital, but we have held our own. Only, +there is no dividend for the men."</p> + +<p>"I'll explain that to them," exclaimed Winston with +a confident nod.</p> + +<p>He did, and he had a rather stormy venture. All the +old arguments and agreements had to be gone over. +Men unaccustomed to business are quick in prosperity and +stupid in adversity. They only had three-quarter wages: +why should they be called upon to lose beside? It was +little enough, and waiting five years,—and no one knew,—the +whole thing might go to smash another year! A +few wished, with an oath, that they were well out of it. +They would never be bamboozled into any co-operative +scheme again.</p> + +<p>The grumbling, grew louder and louder. It was discussed +at Keppler's over beer and bad whiskey, and quite +inflammatory speeches were made. Then Winston called +the mill-hands together.</p> + +<p>"My men," said he, "you know we opened the mills +in starvation-times. Every man who could raise fifty dollars<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[308]</a></span> +was entitled to a half-share of the capital, and he +who could not was to have a little capital made off of the +savings of his labor. Last year you were all pleased and +merry and satisfied, because we made something: this +year it has been the reverse, though I declare to you, I, +for one, have worked twice as hard. Now, we shall never +do any thing if we are all going to row different ways. +It must be the long pull, the strong pull, and the pull +all together. You know that if any operative became +dissatisfied, and left, his share was forfeited to the fund +for the sick and disabled. Many of you <i>are</i> dissatisfied; +but maybe you won't leave, thinking of last year's money. +Now, I want to say, every such man who would like to <i>sell</i> +his share, may do so. I have had some applications +from new men, that I have been very sorry to refuse. I +shall open a book, and any man who wants to go out +may put down his name there, and, just as fast as the +shares are resold, he can go; <i>but he never comes back into +Hope Mills again!</i> Just think it over, and decide in the +course of a few days."</p> + +<p>"O Winston!" cried Jack, "I am afraid there will be +a stampede!"</p> + +<p>"You're nervous and blue, Darcy. Now, you see if +this isn't the very best move. There were two men here +the other day from Little Falls. They had been taking +out half their wages in store-pay, and the concern burst +up, owing them the other half. They knew of a dozen +men, not beggarly poor either, who would be glad to +come. I'll bet my old hat there don't six men go out. +Come, now!"</p> + +<p>"You can't tempt me with your old hat," returned +Jack laughingly. "Make it a treat at Kit Connelly's."</p> + +<p>"Agreed. We'll take in the household."</p> + +<p>A dozen names were put down on the first day, two on +the second, then there was a lull. Afterward four were +erased; and, when it came to the actual pinch, five men +went out, two of them very reluctantly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[309]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I felt so sorry for Davy," said Jack when they had +made the transfers. "He didn't want to go, and I do +not believe he would if it had not been for his brother-in-law."</p> + +<p>"A good lesson for all parties. There will not be any +grumbling for some time to come, I'll warrant. It is +rather irregular business; but sometimes you can't wait +for a regular surgeon, or the patient would be past help."</p> + +<p>Events pointed the lesson pretty forcibly. By the +middle of October there was a sudden rush of orders. +Prices rallied a little. There were some tremendous +bankruptcies, but it seemed more in speculation than +legitimate industry. The new men brought a fresh infusion +of spirit and energy. One of them, a small, middle-aged +man, Gilman by name, who had once been manager +and had a share in a mill that came to grief through +a defaulting cashier who had successfully forged the name +of the firm, was especially enthusiastic about the system. +Jack admitted that the culmination of the discontent was +the very best thing that had happened for the mill.</p> + +<p>Davy went almost wild over his mistake, cursed his +brother-in-law roundly, and forbade his wife to visit her +brother's household. Nothing to do, not even three-quarter +wages to live upon, with cheap coal and cheap flour. +He even waylaid Darcy, and begged to be taken back without +any share.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry, Davy, but it cannot be done. We resolved, +whatever happened, we would not go back on our word. +You had time enough to think it over."</p> + +<p>"Just you wait," said Price, when he heard this. +"They've three years more to wade through, and they'll +never hold together all that time. It has a very queer +look, too, that, just as soon as they shoved us out, they +began to make money again. Bob Winston's the sort of +fellow to look out for himself, and he had this thing all +cut and dried."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[310]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Look here," remarked a listener, "you signed your +own selves out. Nobody made you. I haven't any faith +in the scheme, but I like truth for all that."</p> + +<p>The men worked with a will. The monthly club meetings +took on a new interest; and they decided, if the prosperity +continued, to open a co-operative store another +year. They were growing more thoughtful and intelligent, +and Gilman's influence upon them was excellent, while his +experiences widened their views. A little fresh blood certainly +worked no harm.</p> + +<p>Jack was very cheery again. It seemed to him they +had pulled through the worst. The larger outlook was +better: goods were going abroad, and money or bonds +were coming back. Here and there some new enterprise +started, but still there were hundreds of men out of employment. +Yerbury showed various signs of a new thriftiness. +The farms about were better managed. Some +idle men had ventured to hire a little ground the past summer, +and raise sufficient to have something over for their +trouble. The Webbers succeeded beautifully. Of course +there were slurs about a Dutchman living on a cabbage a +week, but every one knew the Webbers were not that +kind. What Germans were able to do nicely and wisely, +Americans might copy to their profit. When some of the +natives were out of work, they patched up their fences, +painted a bit, laid a bad place in the sidewalk, instead of +hanging round a saloon.</p> + +<p>As for those who were living through the sad sweet +lesson of loving and losing, time went on with them also. +If they could have stayed his hand! Sylvie recovered +from the first shock: she could never suffer quite so intensely +again, for there was one to share her least thought, +her most trivial to her greatest pain. The explanation +had come about very gently, making only a small ripple. +Mrs. Lawrence was delighted: she always had liked Sylvie, +and she was certain that Fred was a better match than<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[311]</a></span> +Jack Darcy, though she admitted he was remarkable for a +young man with no better opportunities.</p> + +<p>Miss Barry was truly satisfied. She would cling to her +little dream of "orders" and "kinds" to the last, but she +always did it in an unobtrusive way. She had felt all her +life long, rather all <i>their</i> lives, that they were made for one +another. Less practically clear-eyed than her young +niece,—brought up in the active reasoning and doing of +to-day, rather than the doctrine of passive suffering that +had been in the old creed for women,—she would have +assented when Sylvie refused. To be sure, if Jack Darcy +had won her he would have had a delicate and sincere welcome; +but I think her eye would never have lighted with +the true mother-love at his coming, as it did at Fred's. +The worth of his years of refinement and polish came out +now. He never seemed at loss or awkward in the sickroom. +If he was reading, he warily noted the first droop +of the eyes; he could tell by the lines in her face when +talking wearied her, or when she preferred being alone. +Every thing between them was harmonious.</p> + +<p>She amazed even Dr. Maverick by her improvement, +though she held her life even yet on the same frail tenure. +She really hoped to live until spring, when she should +plan for Sylvie's marriage. Fred had made a very profitable +engagement with the widow he had spoken of, and was +to furnish designs for the interior of her house and furniture. +There was to be one purely Grecian room, one on +the old Roman model, a sunset room where every thing +was to be in accord, and a "sea" room fit for Naiads +or Undines. Sylvie was intensely interested. This Mrs. +Spottiswoode was young and handsome, the widow of a +man nearly three times her age, and childless.</p> + +<p>Fred Lawrence was proud to have something of his very +own to offer Sylvie, and she took it as the highest of all +compliments. She did like the profession, if that it could +be called; for it brought them nearer together, it was something<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[312]</a></span> +they could both share. She copied designs and art +essays, she drew patterns, she painted now and then, days +when Miss Barry was at her best. She would make of +herself something that should enhance Fred's pride in +her,—as if he was not proud enough already!</p> + +<p>The one least contented with all this was Philip Maverick.</p> + +<p>"I never was so thunderstruck in all my life! That's +just the word to express it, for it left me dazed as the +blackness does after the lightning. I would have sworn, +Jack, that she loved you, and you loved her. Good +heavens! if I had not believed that, if I had not been too +honorable to seek to play a friend a scurvy trick, it would +have gone hard with me if I had not won her for myself."</p> + +<p>"Honestly, you would not have succeeded, Maverick. +Neither would she have married me. I think she belonged +to Fred from the beginning. He used to hate girls, judging +from his sisters, no doubt, but he always liked Sylvie. +I was afraid of girls,—their sharp eyes and sharper +tongues,—but I liked her too; yet in my own mind he +always had the first claim. And they will be suited in the +farthest fibre of each soul."</p> + +<p>"He is not half worthy of her!" growled Maverick.</p> + +<p>"Who is?" There was a peculiar tender intonation in +the voice. "Sylvie Barry's womanhood is unique, like +some rare gem. She has the sparkle but not the hardness +of a diamond; the warmth and vividness of the ruby, but +not its heats; the serenity of the sapphire, and yet to me +that is always cold. Rather I think she is a changeful +opal with all hues and tints and surprises."</p> + +<p>"And yet you have never loved her!" in intense surprise.</p> + +<p>"I worship her," said Jack reverentially. "I should +as soon think of wooing an angel."</p> + +<p>"And yet this man, who is not as strong, or noble, or +high in purpose, takes her with your consent. You can<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[313]</a></span> +see her sit down at his feet, wind her own rich, pure, sustaining +life-melody about him, to make his path seem like +going through an enchanted land. She has genius, but it +will ever linger in the shadow of his; it will help, and +purify, and shape his; she will give her whole soul to the +work. Is he worth the best there is in such a woman as +Sylvie Barry?"</p> + +<p>"No; and we never go by our deserts when a woman +loves us," said Jack, with frank honesty.</p> + +<p>"I am quite sure you will marry a woman I shall hate," +returned Maverick testily.</p> + +<p>Jack laughed. "Marrying has not been much in my +thoughts;" and yet his fair face flushed. "I have to +fight Hope Mills out to the end first."</p> + +<p>But just now there did not seem much of a prospect for +fighting, though he firmly believed he should always be on +guard after this.</p> + +<p>There was one other person in this little circle, who was +of much interest to the others, even if it was for the most +part unspoken. Maverick had tried to rouse Irene Lawrence +from her lethargy by appeals of different kinds. +She certainly was not an intellectual woman, though she +had a strong and well-cultivated mind, and was accomplished +in many ways,—society accomplishments, with a +view to the admiration they might win. He could seem +to strike no electric spark, though he succeeded in restoring +her to health. Every week of her stay at Depford +Beach, she had improved; but there was the old, dreary, +listless life. She used to think herself, if some shock like +that of an earthquake could lift her completely out of it! +but none came.</p> + +<p>For it could not be said that Miss Barry's illness was +any shock to her. People were sick, and died, and their +perplexity was at an end. A generous, kindly life like +this of Miss Barry's would have its reward—if any life +ever was rewarded. She did not doubt so much: she had +never really believed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[314]</a></span></p> + +<p>As she said to Sylvie, something stronger than herself +had sent her that night,—one of those powerful, impelling +influences that few can resist. And Sylvie was wise +enough not to lose her hold. She drew her in very gently, +she preached no sermon, she asked favors frankly.</p> + +<p>"I want you to take my pony-carriage," she said one +day, after their return to Yerbury. "I ought to go out +every day, and if you come with it I shall; but if I am +left to my own fancies, there will be so much to occupy +me. Then, too, companionship is always very tempting."</p> + +<p>"I should be glad to do any thing for you," was the +quiet, unemotional reply.</p> + +<p>So the carriage was brought every morning to the door. +It seemed so odd, the day she first drove around Yerbury! +Unconsciously the old stateliness returned. Her heart +swelled with contradictory phases of thought and feeling. +She was too really proud to suffer from the stings of petty +vanity. She knew there were people who stared at Miss +Lawrence; and she allowed them to stare with the serenity +of a queen, going her way unmoved.</p> + +<p>She and Sylvie went through lanes and by-ways this +gorgeous October day. Her heart was strangely touched +by the glory, by the odorous air, the softened sounds, and +brooding tenderness. Sylvie had a few errands to some +old parishioners of her aunt's; and, while she went in +cottages, Irene sat with the reins idly in her hands. +There was much in the world she had never seen, though +she had climbed Alps, and wandered in sunny vales. The +ripeness and perfection of this midday was exhilarating. +They talked in little snatches, and then were silent.</p> + +<p>Coming back they drove through the town: it was +nearer. Crossing over to Larch Avenue, a tall figure +confronted them. Sylvie bowed, and looked straight on, +remembering such a rencounter years agone. Irene Lawrence +turned her head with its proudest poise, but her face +flushed scarlet under her veil. She would have made the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[315]</a></span> +<i>amende honorable</i> then, if it had taken all the strength of +her soul.</p> + +<p>She and Jack Darcy had met occasionally through the +summer. Mrs. Lawrence rather liked to talk mill affairs +with him, and his name was quite a familiar one in their +household. Now that it had come, she was rather glad to +offer this wordless apology for a crime against good-breeding, +that only a rude young girl could be guilty of, to one +she considered her inferior.</p> + +<p>She had wondered more than once, why that long-ago +evening at Sylvie's should haunt her,—the talk of costumes, +the bright chat, the dainty ripples of laughter, and +that face with its cool, steady power. If it had been that +of any other man, she would have pitted herself against it, +and conquered, she fancied. Now conquests were things +of the past. She was not one of your soft, maudlin +women, who sigh for a little love. She looked straight +into the coming years, and saw herself always alone, with +no feeling of pity or regret.</p> + +<p>As for Jack Darcy, when they had passed, he turned +and looked after them,—after <i>her</i>, in her state and dignity. +He held one secret of her life that she would never +know. He had questioned Maverick, who learned that +she had no remembrance of going out that night. He +had bound Fred over to a most willing secrecy.</p> + +<p>Ah, Jack! any remembrance that you can carry so +guardedly in your soul is a dangerous thing,—a spark +that may kindle a great fire "that many waters cannot +quench!"</p> + +<p>Sylvie did not relinquish her own outside interests. +The school that had had so small a beginning was now +merged into a regular enterprise, and been re-christened +an Industrial School. It had a permanent teacher, and +occupied the whole house, the rent being paid by some +benevolent gentlemen. A committee of ladies assisted in +the different classes. The store was kept open, one side<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[316]</a></span> +being reserved for articles of clothing or fancy goods made +by the pupils, the other as a bakery on a limited scale, and +a lunch-counter. It certainly was doing a good work. +Some young girls, after being trained, had been provided +with service places, and had given excellent satisfaction. +Irene went through it one day with Sylvie, and was oddly +interested.</p> + +<p>"I wish I had a genius of some kind," she said abruptly +to Sylvie afterward. "If I could write a book, or +paint a picture, or design exquisite adornments, or if I +could hold the world spell-bound by my voice"—</p> + +<p>"You do sing," returned Sylvie. "Auntie was speaking +of it yesterday. She said, 'How I should like to hear +Miss Lawrence sing some of her pathetic old ballads!'"</p> + +<p>"You know all the sweet and tender ones."</p> + +<p>"I sing mine over daily," and Sylvie laughed with a +dainty inflection.</p> + +<p>Irene went home, and opened her piano. It might have +made jarring discord, but for Fred's thoughtfulness. She +found it was in perfect tune.</p> + +<p>Was it the music that brought a curious intensity to her +after all these long, dreary months? Her fingers seemed +a little stiff at first, and some things had gone out of her +mind. Then she dropped her face into her hands, and +thought.</p> + +<p>"It is my only gift," she said slowly. "When they +are married I will not be a burthen on them: I can make +my way. I shall never try to think of marriage again;" +and she shuddered.</p> + +<p>"I declare, you are quite like yourself," said her +mother that evening.</p> + +<p>The weeks went on. Miss Barry was making plans for +her niece. She could not live here alone, even for a few +months. And she longed to see her married. Though +the others had almost forgotten how surely her days were +numbered, she had not.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[317]</a></span></p> + +<p>Fred assented delicately to her proposal.</p> + +<p>"It is not as if there were only your income," she said +with a touch of pride. "Sylvie will have enough to keep +the old house as it is kept now, and your mother and sister +have some claims on you. Still, for her sake"—</p> + +<p>Sylvie would fain have put it off, but she was gently +overruled. The wedding-garments were ordered, the day +appointed. A quiet marriage in the pretty parlor, with +only a few friends. They brought Miss Barry down +stairs, and she listened while her darling reverently repeated +her vows. They kissed the new bride while the +tears were shining in her eyes, and sent her on a brief +wedding-journey with heartfelt blessings. Maverick was +to telegraph to them every day.</p> + +<p>Fred Lawrence could hardly believe his happiness. +They were like two children out on a pleasure-excursion, +not needing to realize the gravity of life in these golden +days. What cared they for pale winter suns and shivering +blasts!</p> + +<p>Long ago he had planned a brilliant tour to Europe for +her. He had gone over it all, and would only have been +bored; but it was the thing to do, and he might enjoy +her fresh delight in it. But to both of them—to him +especially—had come the higher revelations of life. It +is the aggregation of individual characteristics that makes +the sum-total of national character; and though at first +retrenchment and economy seemed hideous words to the +pleasure-loving, easy-going, self-indulgent souls nursed +in the lap of prosperity, there was coming a realization +to those who had fought their way valiantly across the +yawning gulf, that the hot race for show, the desire to +exceed one another, was not a lofty aim for an immortal +soul, hardly for a cultured nature.</p> + +<p>They both understood that beauty and grandeur were +not far-off, hardly attained ideals, and that the great +pleasures were set in the world rather as incentives and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[318]</a></span> +rewards, than highly seasoned daily food which must inevitably +produce satiety. Some time, when they had earned +this glorious vacation, they would take it hungering with +the healthy appetite of a well-trained soul. At present +the duty was to deny one's self firmly and contentedly, +to round off the sharp corners, to shape the daily living +to high, pure purposes; so that the greater excellences +of Art should not despise the minor forms, the steps +whereby true perfection was attained, the tangled threads +that often required more real genius to comprehend than +the one great moment of inspiration.</p> + +<p>They came home again fresh and bright, with the peculiar +fragrance of a new life about them, just as you shall +smell spring in the woods on some mild, sunny February +day. Fred fluctuated between office and city, quite a +prophet of household art, welcomed warmly back to the +old circles which had so quietly dropped him for a while. +Is there not a great deal of this unconscious proving of +the fine metal of souls in the world? We cry out as we +are thrust aside, or given some hard task to do; we +wonder people do not hold out kindly hands, smile with +sympathetic eyes; and yet their very help might weaken +us. When we have beaten our way across with the roar +of the distant waves still in our ears, the shadows of the +black, fierce, jagged cliff hardly faded, the taste of the +brackish spray still lingering on our lips, an exultant +thrill speeds through every nerve as we clasp a hand that +has had to buffet through the same fateful current.</p> + +<p>Early in April Miss Barry had another seizure, a fatal +stroke this time. For a few days she lay in sweet content; +and then dropped peacefully out of existence.</p> + +<p>It seems always a mystery, why such earnest, useful +souls, doing that highest of all work,—a pure, unselfish +charity,—should be taken away, and the slothful, dependent, +ease-loving, selfish ones left. The Darcys felt +that Mrs. Lawrence could have been spared much more<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[319]</a></span> +easily, and served a higher economy in point of usefulness. +But God, who sees every end from the beginning, and is +all-wise, judges differently. Miss Barry had done her +work, no light life-task either. Only God knew what it +had been, days of toil and nights of watching and prayer, +such pain as only a strong soul could have kept to itself, +and smiled over. Yet she had her exceeding sweet +reward in this world,—years of peace and comfort, the +child-love she had missed in one way, supplied in another, +the hope of her days crowned more wisely by the waiting.</p> + +<p>They did not think it worth while to keep up the two +households; indeed, Mrs. Lawrence would not have been +separated from her son: so she and Irene brought their +worldly possessions over to Larch Avenue. The old house +was large enough. Sylvie was a courteous and charming +mistress; though Fred realized, with the sensitiveness of +true tender love, the burthen he had brought to her.</p> + +<p>"It is not without its wise compensation," she said, +tears in her sunny brown eyes. "You see, I shall miss +auntie so much less! She would not desire me to grieve +despairingly for her, and here is the new claim to take her +place. Beside," with a sad yet arch smile, "we shall +have to strive against the temptation to selfishness that +besets newly married people, when their pursuits are identical, +as ours are. It will give a greater breadth, a purer +tone, to our lives."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[320]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXV.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Hope Mills</span> passed through a very prosperous six +months. With some new processes, invented by the +combined energy and ingenuity of the men, they made a +new line of goods which was a perfect success. Interest +and discount vanished; and there was a snug balance in +the bank, of which every man was duly proud. They +were beginning, too, to take a great interest in the finances +of the country, and to see that a stable currency and wise +economy and honesty were the best friends to commercial +and industrial prosperity. One little incident made them +exceedingly jubilant.</p> + +<p>They had been undersold, in the same line of goods, +with quite a large customer. Winston was rather blue +about it at first, then laughed it off as one of the fluctuations +of trade. To his great surprise, six months +after, he received the largest order for goods that had yet +been sent.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"We have been much deceived in the quality of cloths +from Yates, Collins, & Co.," ran the note. "They do +not stand wear, though they resemble yours so closely. +Our customers have made numerous complaints, and +desire the old stock, which we are glad to order again.</p> + +<div class='sig'> +"<span class="smcap">Miles, Chambers, & Co</span>."<br /> +</div></div> + +<p>This was put up on the bulletin-board, and discussed +with much pride at the club. Every man had an interest +in it, and an ambition to excel in his particular branch. +It paid in the long-run to be honest; and, though there<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[321]</a></span> +might be a higher principle than remuneration, that was +not a bad test, after all.</p> + +<p>So the third summer opened brilliantly. Yardley, Gilman, +and four others drew up an agreement for a co-operative +store. They hired one man who had been a +very successful buyer for a large grocery-firm, which had +failed, and took with it his small invested capital. He +was to keep the books, take orders, and do the buying, +subject to the advisement of the managers. A certain +low per cent of profits was agreed upon, just enough, they +calculated, to pay expenses; and the goods were to be +offered as low as possible for cash. The superior quality +and reduced price, they decided, would be more agreeable +to most of the men than a small balance at the end of the +year. An account was to be kept with every member, and +the agreement to remain in force one year from date.</p> + +<p>And yet there are shoals and quicksands for prosperity, +as well as yawning abysses for adversity. There were +people in Yerbury—not bad souls either—who were not +content to allow the world to revolve on any axis but their +own. They could see their neighbors' planets go to destruction +with equanimity—following some law of nature +or ethics that regulated supply and demand of any force, +in their estimation; but when some bright particular star +flashed out of the orbit they had set for it, of course it +was beyond the pale of safety. There has always been +a great deal of just such obstinacy in the world, just such +narrow prescribing, and yet—"it does move."</p> + +<p>One of the favorite objections of these wiseacres was, +that Hope Mills was founded on a wrong basis. Who +knew <i>just exactly</i> what amount of goods Winston sold? +Well, there was the amount manufactured,—the amount +on hand every six months. True,—with a disbelieving +shake of the head,—but he was up in the ways of the +world; and what would hinder him, Ananias-like, from +keeping back part of the price? When this was shown<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[322]</a></span> +to be an utter impossibility, they still were quite sure Winston +harbored in his secret soul some plan for cheating +the workmen at the last. Here would be all this accumulation +of capital, and by some successful <i>coup-d'état</i> +Winston and Darcy would swoop down upon it, and take +the lion's share. They were very much afraid that the +workmen were going to be wronged in some underhand +way. A defaulting cashier, unprincipled managers, thieves +and forgers, committed their crimes in an out-and-out way; +but there was going to be a profound mystery about this—the +most simple and above-board management, when +every man knew, every six months, the best and the +worst of the details.</p> + +<p>Employment was becoming more general all through +the country. Everybody drew a long breath, and decided +that the grinding times of depression had passed. We +would soon be back to the brilliant era of past prosperity.</p> + +<p>And then there arose a new light in the labor horizon, +a prophet who had discovered the magic key to the workingmen's +paradise, and it had only to be turned by themselves, +to gain entrance. Wherever he went, he was +hailed with acclamation.</p> + +<p>It was the old, old war upon capital, the old seductive +science of equalizing things, values, money. Every poor +man in the country had a better right to a cottage and +garden and a few hours of leisure, than these few magnates +to grasp every thing in their own hands, to roll in +luxury, to feast in magnificence, to clothe their daughters +in silks, velvets, and diamonds—it was to be noted that +Mr. McPherson wore an immense diamond, but it was to +be presumed that his wife or daughter did <i>not</i>. Everywhere +one could see the rich growing richer, the poor +poorer, the workman trodden down, brought to the level +of slavery with his long hours and scanty wages. Where +was it to end but in a nation of paupers, of thieves, of +criminals of every grade? for, when you made a brute of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[323]</a></span> +a man, there came a time when he turned a brute's hand +against you. This had been the underlying cause of all +the world's great struggles: it had uncrowned kings, it +had razed thrones, it had swept states. There were bits +of distorted historical facts, fallacious but brilliant reasoning, +and much bombast.</p> + +<p>They heard of him in this city and that, and there was +a great deal said about the cordiality with which he +greeted "the horny-handed son of toil." No town was +so small that he disdained it, no city so great that he +feared it. There had been "demonstrations," but he +seemed proud of his defiance of danger.</p> + +<p>Men who could not altogether approve of him admitted +that he was "smart," that he uttered a good many truths, +half-truths they were, dressed up in specious falsehoods, +all the more dangerous, since the world does pay homage +to virtue and truth. They were troublesome questions: +the great difficulty was the haste made in settling them. +A balance will finally adjust itself, though there may be +many vibrations at first.</p> + +<p>It was a fact much to be regretted, that with returning +prosperity the gin-mills and beer-shops of Yerbury had, +as a general thing, increased in their business. A notable +instance to the contrary, however, was Keppler's saloon. +It had depended a good deal on the men from Hope Mills +and the iron-works. The latter had been closed so long; +and, although the coffee-house did not seem much of a +rival at first, it had gone on steadily, and given the men +time to think. It was not simply the one glass of beer +they took to wash down their midday lunch, but the treating +when a crowd gathered, the many drinks during a +heated discussion of an evening. Not half a dozen of the +mill-hands went there now, so occupied had their minds +become with other matters. Keppler's lease was not out, +and his rent was high for the times; he had lost money +and customers, and felt sore over it; he had a grudge<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[324]</a></span> +against Jack Darcy as the exponent of a system that interfered +with his profits.</p> + +<p>McPherson was discussed over pipes and ale one warm +June evening, with brains cleared, of course, by frequent +potations and stifling smoke. It was proposed that he +should be invited to lecture at Yerbury.</p> + +<p>"I like to see fair play!" cried Keppler. "These fellows +over here"—nodding toward the mill—"have had +it all their own way because they took up a lot of starving +men in dull times. That was all well enough,—praise-worthy—praise-w-o-r-thy," +with a long accent. "But +things have changed now,—changed!" with a confident +nod. "I'd like to hear what the man has to say. You +see, he has come up from the ranks, he has been poor +himself!"</p> + +<p>So the ball was put in motion. McPherson's speech +at Millville, a great laboring-centre, was read aloud with +frequent cheering. And the laboring-men at Yerbury +began to wonder why wages were not higher, when so +many shops were running on full time! Somebody was +making a great deal of money: <i>they</i> could barely live. +Bread and meat had not fallen in the ratio of wages. It +was still next door to starvation.</p> + +<p>Finally some self-constituted labor-committee sent the +letter of invitation, and received a cordial and flattering +reply. Mr. McPherson had heard of Yerbury. He would +be only too glad to come among them in his humble capacity, +and shed what light he could upon the side of right +and truth; raise his voice for the oppressed against the +oppressor. And he mentioned that open-air meetings +were generally more successful.</p> + +<p>They put up a platform on the Common, the largest +park in Yerbury. The day was very fine, not too hot, and +a shower the evening before had laid the dust. At precisely +four, a deputation awaited Mr. McPherson and his +party at the station, escorted them to the Bedell House<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[325]</a></span> +to refresh, and then to the grand hall of nature, with its +waving arches of glistening green overhead.</p> + +<p>Already a great concourse had assembled. Mr. McPherson +mounted his rostrum, and, after a few preliminary +flourishes, began in a clear, strong tone, that had the +power of concentrating the attention of his audience. He +went back centuries, and proved that from the very beginning +of all industries there had been the desire to oppress, +that the working-classes had to combine and fight for every +advantage gained, to wrest from kings, peers, masters, +even equals, the privileges they held to-day. Plainly, +capital was a tyrant fattening on unpaid toil. "Were not +the rich always in the ranks of capital, always against the +poor man? They squeezed him to the utmost when they +had need, then they flung him away. Did it matter to +them if his wife and children starved? If he stole a +loaf of bread to appease the pangs of hunger, he was sent +to prison; but if a bank president stole half a million, he +went to—Europe! [Laughter and applause.] Does the +capitalist employ the laborer in order that there shall be +fewer starving men in the country? It comes in the market, +and buys at the lowest price, solely for its own benefit. +It does not concern capital, whether this man can +support wife and children on such a pittance: what business +has he with wife and children! If the man drops +at the work-bench, the victim of long hours, exhaustive +toil, insufficient food, the town will thrust him into a pauper's +grave, and another will fill his place. Even negro-slavery +was more noble than this: it was to the master's +interest that the slave should be well fed. Capital was +shrewd, selfish, experienced, astute, strong: labor was +kept in ignorance lest it might learn its worth, its rights; +it was half-starved that it might be weak; it was driven +from pillar to post with a more cruel than slave-driver's +whip, that it might never be able to perfect a successful +organization."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[326]</a></span></p> + +<p>And so on and on. The crowd increased. The six-o'clock +bells rang, and the procession from shops wended +their way thither, many from curiosity, some from a hope +of a new truth, and not a few filled with a secret sense of +wrong and dissatisfaction. Mr. McPherson was still belaboring +capital. Now he had declared it "a stupendous +fraud, a hollow bubble, a reputation for wealth where no +wealth existed, a fictitious claim for what was not, but +which still managed to hold the workman in its iron +grasp; the concentrated labor of the men, not the lawful +working interest of money. Some way this system of evil +was going to be uprooted by men standing firm, refusing +the wages of sweat and blood; and in the general overturn +by legislation of state and country, every man was to +have a farm or a factory, to quit work in the middle of +the afternoon, and sit with folded hands on his own door-step, +his own master, a free man!" [Great shouting +and applause.]</p> + +<p>He talked until seven, and wound up at last with a +desperate but covert onslaught on Hope Mills. "No two +men or six men, or company of any kind, had a right to +band together to starve not only the men in their own +town, but the laborers throughout the world, by so reducing +wages for their own sole benefit; and every workman +who submitted to have these chains forged around body +and soul, no matter by what specious expedient, was a +worse traitor, a more cruel oppressor of wife and children, +than the red-handed capital that stood ready to make him +a slave!"</p> + +<p>There was an immense deal of cheering and applause. +Mr. McPherson was invited to supper at the Bedell +House by a deputation of working-men, though I think +there were few horny-handed ones among them. Liquors +flowed freely, and the feast was rather noisy. A purse +was handed to him when he went away—he was too noble +to make any charge when he spoke in behalf of a cause +so near his heart.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[327]</a></span></p> + +<p>The seed was sown, and it is too true that "foul +weeds grow apace." There were club-meetings and +union-meetings. The shoe-factory, which had struggled +hard to get on its legs again, soon became a hotbed of +discontent. The hatters held meetings, the paper-makers +were aroused, and then began preparation for another +grand strike. The weavers from Coldbridge and Stilford +sent over a deputation to Hope Mills, warning, exhorting, +and threatening. "No system," said they, "should +interfere with mutual strength and protection."</p> + +<p>And this was not all. It seemed as if Yerbury meant +to make them the scape-goat of every thing. Robert +Winston was broadly caricatured; and there was a bit of +insulting abuse, calling them traders in their brethren's +blood, pasted up on the gate-post. "The Evening Transcript" +went over the system of co-operation, and showed +to its own satisfaction, that it was a system full of errors +and miscalculations based on the credulity of workmen. +It hinted that the same mysterious cause which reduced +profits last year would reduce them again next year, that +at the end of the five years the bread and cheese would +come out just even, although there had been a great deal +more bread than cheese, as everybody knew. If the +corporation were working for the best interests of the +men, why had they not sold off stock when every one +knew prices were going permanently down, instead of +waiting to sell it below cost? Why had they paid exorbitant +prices for wool when the market was flooded with +it? Why had they not done this or that? until one wondered +why, understanding the woollen-business so well, +and being able to see just where enormous profits could +be made, and losses avoided, they had not all gone into +it themselves. The article wound up with a covert and +insulting insinuation. Human nature was the same, the +world over. Men of the highest probity and honor had +succumbed to temptation: these men who had never<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[328]</a></span> +really been in any responsible position had yet to be +proved. If men like David Lawrence and Horace Eastman +could not make a stand against fluctuations and difficulties, +it was hardly likely success would crown any +such abnormal undertaking.</p> + +<p>Jack did not see the paper until the next day. Some +one laid it surreptitiously on his desk. His face flushed +darkly at the attack upon his honesty, and for a moment +all the belligerency of his boyhood rose to the surface. +He had half a mind to hunt up the writer of the article, +and pound him to a jelly with his two fists. But presently +he laughed to himself, and then made a tour of the +mills in his cheeriest fashion. He saw with grief that +the seed had found root. There were some sullen faces +and short answers.</p> + +<p>It certainly is a hard thing to keep on fighting an old +foe that can only be beaten, never killed.</p> + +<p>Jack stumbled over Cameron in the store-room.</p> + +<p>"Cameron," said he with a white, rigid face, "I wish +to God this was the last day of the five years! I should +walk out of Hope Mills, and never set foot in it again, no, +not even if they implored me on their knees. A thankless, +miserable set! The lying article in last night's +paper made me mad for a moment, but could not sting: +yet the faces of my own men did as I came through the +rooms."</p> + +<p>"You've had a hard pull, Jack!" Cameron's voice +was fatherly and soothing. "You might have put your +money and your brains in something that would have +proved much pleasanter. But the man who takes up the +first end of a truth always gets hard knocks: it is the +people who come after who find a smooth path. Don't +you remember," drawing his wrinkled face into a queer +smile, "the shrewd application your New York lady made +about the children of Israel? Jack, if the salvation +scheme of the Bible was all proved false,—which it never<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[329]</a></span> +will be, to my mind,—there's so much wisdom in it beside, +that a chap could take it just for a sort of guidebook +in every-day matters, all the same. And now we're +going to have a big fight."</p> + +<p>"You think that?" cried Jack, in vague alarm. "I +wish Winston was here. He can always talk so to the +point!"</p> + +<p>"Well, he isn't: we've got to go through it ourselves. +But this settles it! You see, there's been Price, and +Pickett, and Davy, to stir up strife and bad feeling, and +all this outside influence; but my old woman's praying +us through, and I set a good deal of store by her prayers, +Jack! If these ruffians go on, Yerbury'll be half ruined +again, but it is their own fault. I'm not much on capital +punishment, but I would go to the hanging of that McPherson. +If he'd staid away, we should have done well +enough."</p> + +<p>Jack drew a long, troubled breath.</p> + +<p>"I'd let every man go out who wanted to, but I +wouldn't pay-him a red cent, there!"</p> + +<p>That evening Jack went down to Larch Avenue. He +found Fred and Sylvie up in arms. Indignation was a +mild term.</p> + +<p>It was a magnificent night, with a nearly full moon. +The light flooded the wide lawn path, and made shadows +of elves and gnomes on the porch, as the wind wandered +in and out the great honeysuckle, whose ripe, rich perfume +was shaken about with every waft. Within, an +Argand lamp, and porcelain shade with a minute painting +of Puck and his fairy host, sent a softened radiance +on the old, rich-hued carpet, and antique furniture. It +was but little changed, yet wore an indescribably antique +look.</p> + +<p>Over at an open window sat Irene Lawrence, dressed +in white, with a single deep-red velvety rose at her throat, +which Sylvie had pinned there. Her hair had grown<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[330]</a></span> +rapidly, and, though it did not quite curl, the ends tumbled +about loosely, framing in the face with their dusky purplish +tint. It was very clear now, and a little pale; the +old brilliant coloring had not all returned; the passionless +grace, the deep eyes with their steady lights, the mouth +suggesting mobility and warmth and passion, rather than +defining it, the droop of the white lids, the unruffled brow, +and the pose of the bowed head and slightly-yielding +throat, made a marvellous picture.</p> + +<p>The three were talking earnestly, as people do in the +great crises of life; Sylvie wondrously piquant, with some +thin, black, trailing stuff making shifting billows about her +restless feet. She questioned Jack eagerly, she denounced +the attack as cruel and cowardly. What did he mean to +do? What should Fred do for him?</p> + +<p>"There is nothing to do, but just wait for the result. +The dragon's-teeth have been sown. The only comfort I +have is, that you never can put a lie on the face of truth, +and nail it there. No amount of arguing or talk can +make a thing so when it is <i>not</i> so. Higher than this little +human round, God garners every truth in his keeping, and +will make it tell somewhere!"</p> + +<p>Miss Lawrence raised her eyes, and glanced over to him. +Had the slow impassiveness of her soul been touched, that +this sudden peculiar grace of sympathy, or some hidden +kindred feeling, rose and asserted itself? And yet she +might have been in some magnetic sleep, for all actual +movement of her features; it was the dawn of an expression +that seemed to transport him to some strange world, +where he had known her long ago,—where he had +watched for her coming, listened to her voice,—rather +than any present interest or meaning.</p> + +<p>He rose abruptly.</p> + +<p>"You are not going!" cried Sylvie, in her pretty wifely +imperiousness.</p> + +<p>"I"—for a moment he had the sensation of a man<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[331]</a></span> +drowning. The surging waves were about him, throbbing, +leaping, strangling him. There was a ringing in his ears, +there was a long shuddering sensation, like being overwhelmed.</p> + +<p>"It is very warm," he went on in a faint, strained +voice, wiping the beaded drops from his broad brow.</p> + +<p>"Come over here," pleaded Sylvie: "you will be +cooler. The wind is south, and doesn't blow in those +windows. You are sure you feel quite well?" scanning +him anxiously. "You look pale."</p> + +<p>"It was only momentary." He wondered now what +had so moved him. "I am like good old John Bunyan's +Pilgrim,"—laughing faintly,—"'tumbled up and down' +with these excitements. I wish they were at an end. We +were going on so nicely when that McPherson came! +Don't let us think any more about it," throwing up his +head with a nervous shake. "Sylvie, I wish you would +sing something."</p> + +<p>"With pleasure. Fred and I have been practising +duets. When Yerbury is laid in ashes we can go off as +strolling minstrels;" and she laughed gayly, as she went +to the piano. That exquisite tact in changing a mood or +scene was a familiar characteristic of Sylvie Barry.</p> + +<p>As the sound of their blending voices floated out on the +summer night air, there leaped up in Darcy's soul a subtle, +forceful, vivifying flame, touching to a white heat the +farthest pulse of his being. Resistance appeared impossible: +he did not even dream what manner of influence this +might be. Long afterward—it seemed ages to him—as +their heads were bent together over the pages of the music, +he raised his eyes, and let them wander slowly toward +Irene Lawrence.</p> + +<p>Was there something quite new in the face,—a sort of +strange, wondering, troubled expression, as if some unseen, +almost unknown, depth had been stirred?</p> + +<p>He did not need to ask the question now. Wild as it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[332]</a></span> +was, he loved that statue over yonder, and it seemed to +him that his passion in its enduring vitality must awaken +her soul to kindred life! An exultant strength and determination +rose within him. What might have abashed +another man, filled him with a deathless courage, as high +as it was pure.</p> + +<p>He thanked Sylvie and Fred for the song, but resisted +their entreaties to remain. When he said good-night, he +went over to Miss Lawrence, and took her hand. It was +cold and passive, and her eyes fell beneath his.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[333]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXVI.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> excitement ran very high not only in Yerbury, but +all over the country. Strikes seemed the order of the +day again, and for what reason, was not clearly made +manifest, unless labor felt that it had capital a little by +the throat, in that its services were again somewhat in +demand. "Now," said the prophets. Surely, if they did +not strike when there was employment, they could not +when there was none.</p> + +<p>It began in the shoe-shop. The next Monday morning +the men made their demand in no gentle terms, and +were refused. There was a large contract at stake, however, +and by Tuesday night the matter was talked over +in a better spirit. The employers were willing to accede +to one-half of the demand, otherwise the order must be +sent to another firm. Thursday morning they went to +work with a rather ill grace, yet some elation. Then the +hatters took their turn. The hands at Hope Mills were +served with a notice that the mutual protectionists in all +the towns around were to be out on the following Monday; +and stirring appeals were made to those who had +any feeling of honor in the cause.</p> + +<p>It was exceedingly hard on the men. They gathered +around in little knots on Sunday, wild with conflicting +emotions. Their faith in Hope Mills and co-operation +was undergoing a severe strain. The fear of secret +frauds, of underhand dealing, of distrust in Winston and +Darcy, had been dinned in their ears by outside influence, +some of it very potent. Not one appeal had been made<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[334]</a></span> +by the managers: Cameron and the others decided it +was best.</p> + +<p>Jack went over to the mill on Monday morning. The +gatekeeper and the bell-boy were there. The engineer +came in with a quiet, solemn "Good-morning." The +Brotherhood of Engineers had warned him too, and he +was a little troubled; but he had cast in his lot with the +rest, and it might be as well to wait and see what they +did. The main shaft was turned.</p> + +<p>Jack from his office-window watched the streets filling +up with men and women, many beside the regular operatives. +They came to a halt.</p> + +<p>"Ding-dong! ding-dong!" the bell rang out cheerily +on the summer morning air. "Come to work, come to +work! The birds build homes, and rear their young; the +bee skims the fragrant air in search of flowers; the rivers +run to the sea, turning wheels, driving ships: nothing +in the great economy of nature is idle," sang out the +clang of the bell.</p> + +<p>The hands glanced at one another in doubt and dismay, +and there was an awful silence for a few seconds.</p> + +<p>Some one elbowed his way through the crowd. He had +come from the bedside of his sick child, who might be +dying even now,—a small, wiry, middle-aged man, with +a set, resolute face. He glanced about, then he sprang +up on a pile of packing-boxes. It was Jesse Gilman.</p> + +<p>"My fellow-workmen," he began, "I don't know how +you all feel about this matter; but Hope Mills took me +in when I had tramped the country half over, and found +nothing to do. I've tried the old system, and this can't +be any worse; and, if I have to lose money by an employer, +I'd rather it would be John Darcy of Yerbury, than any +man I know. No man on the face of the earth has a right +to say I shall not work in Hope Mills when I made my +own bargain long ago to do it. That is all I have to say. +I am going to work."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[335]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Three cheers!" cried some one as Gilman jumped +down.</p> + +<p>There were cheers and groans.</p> + +<p>Ben Hay followed him, and stood a moment in the gateway.</p> + +<p>"Boys," said he in his rich, ringing voice, "Hope +Mills was opened to receive a crowd of starving men. I'll +take my oath to Jack Darcy's honesty. He's stuck by +us, and we'll stick to him. That's the beauty of co-operation. +You can't get away, and tramp off with the first +fool that asks you! It isn't merely keeping company: it's +a good, honest, up-and-down marriage. I'd as soon think +of leaving my wife because some day she didn't give me +two dinners instead of one!"</p> + +<p>There was a shout of laughter. The ice was broken in +good earnest. "Three cheers for Ben Hay! Three +cheers and a tiger for Jack Darcy!" and amid all this +hubbub the men and women, the boys and girls, rushed in +pell-mell. A gladder crew one never saw. To decide +when others doubt, to go forward boldly when others hesitate, +to stand up for the principle of right when others +have traduced and blackened it, to take the first step, is +to be as heroic as the "six hundred" of deathless fame.</p> + +<p>They went to work with a will, though some were a +little sore and doubtful, but they were carried on by the +enthusiasm of the others. The street below was still +blocked up, and there were yells and groans. Presently +there came a shower of superannuated eggs. Two landed +in Darcy's office-window. After that, a stampede of +the riotous crew.</p> + +<p>Darcy sent Andrew, the bell-boy, to the police-station, +and two men were detailed. The workmen were allowed +to go home peaceably, except a little jeering at Keppler's. +They heard then the trains had been stopped on the two +roads leading out of Yerbury. The whole world seemed +to be going crazy.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[336]</a></span></p> + +<p>Darcy and Cameron remained in the mill that night +until almost ten: then the latter went home, and Darcy +thought he would go for Ben Hay. The streets of Yerbury +had presented a very peculiar aspect that evening, +something like a beleaguered town. Groups of men and +boys collected on the corners, or wended their way +through the streets with low, ominous mutterings. People +barred their doors and locked their windows, though +it was a hot summer night. Some women were abroad: +but they were of the rougher sort, and now and then their +shrill voices rose on the air in derision or vituperation. +Still there were no overt acts of violence, and at ten +everybody began to breathe more freely.</p> + +<p>The coffee-house had been shut up that evening: it +was deemed advisable. Darcy went round to the side-door, +and was admitted. Hay and three other workmen +were within. They had been figuring up possible and +probable profits by the end of the five years, and looked +very well satisfied.</p> + +<p>"There's a sort of hope and expectation about it," +said one of the men, "that kind of stirs and warms a +body. And when you come to count lost time, and fluctuation +in wages, it makes a pretty even thing, after all! +In '73 I worked in a shoddy-mill that <i>had</i> been making +money hand over fist,—eleven hours a day,—not a man +of us made more than five dollars a week. Some poor +fellows with families earned only three. You've never +been as hard up as that! God only knows how they +lived: it's beyond my guessing!"</p> + +<p>"And if that was co-operation, how the system would +be blamed!" exclaimed Ben Hay. "I declare, it makes +me madder than a hen in a fence—I've caught that of +Cameron," laughingly,—"to hear the things people have +said about us. They're forever blathering about fair play—I +wish they'd give a little, as well as take all. Wait +till we've come to the end, say I, before they tell what we +can do, or what we can't or sha'n't or won't!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[337]</a></span></p> + +<p>There was a tramp in the street. The startled eyes +studied one another. Then a shuffling and muttering, +and a knock at the door.</p> + +<p>No one stirred but Mrs. Connelly, who threw up her +hands, and cried, "The saints protect us!"</p> + +<p>"Earthly saints, Mother Connelly,—this kind," said +Ben Hay with gay re-assurance, doubling his fist, and +baring his brawny arm.</p> + +<p>The pounding increased. Rose ran down stairs wild +with affright, followed by her sister. The boys fortunately +were asleep in the back chambers.</p> + +<p>"Let us in, Mother Connelly: we want some bread +and butter!" shouted a voice.</p> + +<p>"Cakes and yale!"</p> + +<p>"Pretzel and zwei lager!"</p> + +<p>"A sup of the craythur!"</p> + +<p>"A dhrop of whiskey to warrum us this could night! +Av yees the heart av a sthone, Kit Connelly?"</p> + +<p>A roar of laughter succeeded this.</p> + +<p>"Go away, it will be better for you," declared Ben +Hay.</p> + +<p>"Come out here, Hay, and fight like a man! Don't +skulk behind a woman's petticoats!"</p> + +<p>There was a terrific onslaught at the door. It creaked +and groaned, and was succeeded by a volley of oaths and +imprecations. Rose began to cry, and the youngest girl +came screaming down the stairs.</p> + +<p>Darcy had sent a man out of the back way for policemen. +Hay and the two other men mounted guard. Again the +door shivered and creaked: then it flew open, bolts, locks, +and hinges having given way in a mass of splinters.</p> + +<p>Like a flash the men were on their assailants. The +mob had not expected this. Right and left valorous blows +were dealt, and two or three burly fellows were laid low. +Some nearer sober, and more cowardly, took to their heels. +Two men fought like tigers; and once Ben Hay came near<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[338]</a></span> +getting the worst; but, by the time the dilatory guards of +peace arrived, there was only a pile of bruised and battered +bodies lying on the door-step.</p> + +<p>"A pretty tough scrimmage!" was the comment. +"Weren't you a little hard on these fellows?"</p> + +<p>"A man has a right to defend his own life and his own +nose," said Ben Hay decisively. "His life <i>may</i> be useful, +his nose <i>is</i> ornamental when it is a handsome one like +mine."</p> + +<p>What with drunkenness and the drubbing, two of the +ruffians were unable to walk. Two others were marched +off under the escort of the officers, the disabled sent for, +and a guard detached to protect Mrs. Connelly's house. +When everybody had been quieted, Jack took a tour down +to the mills. Some poor object was huddled up in the +corner of the main stoop.</p> + +<p>"What are you doing here?" demanded Darcy.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mr. Darcy, don't strike me! I'm Bart Kane. +I've had enough of this night, and I crawled here"—</p> + +<p>The boy began to sob and talk brokenly. He lifted his +face in the moonlight. It was ghastly; one eye swollen +shut, and purple-black, and streaks of blood and dirt +over it; the clothing torn, the throat bare.</p> + +<p>"Were you down there at Connelly's?"</p> + +<p>"I warn't nowhere. It was along o' father: he comed +home drunk."</p> + +<p>Barton Kane was a mill-boy, about nineteen now. +Darcy's first feeling had been one of outrage and anger, +but he cooled suddenly.</p> + +<p>"Tell me, my lad," in a kindly tone, taking the shivering +fingers in his.</p> + +<p>"You see, Mr. Darcy, father'd been out along of the +hatters all day, gettin' more and more rum in him. He +said on Sunday, as how't I should strike; but they went to +work here, and I worked with 'em. When I went home, +mother, she gev me my supper, and ses she, 'Keep out o'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[339]</a></span> +sight, lad, happen thy dad's powerful mad wi' thee!' So +I went to bed. But about nine he comed home, and tore +up the house wi' his tantrums, and then lathered me. He +called me a rat, and a sneak, and a turn-coat, and kicked +me out o' the house, and threw my traps to me. Then +afore I was fairly dressed he at me again, and said if +ever I darkened the door, he'd murder me! I strayed +round, afeared of everybody, and crawled up here. +'Pears like every bone in my body is broke, and my eye, +he do hurt so!"</p> + +<p>With that Barton Kane broke out sobbing again, and +clung to Jack Darcy's knees.</p> + +<p>"My poor lad!" the tone was infinitely tender. "Can +you walk a little way, to Kit Connelly's? You can be +nursed up there, and go to bed peaceably. Come, Barton, +my boy, you are the hero of Hope Mills. When this is +over, we shall have to give you a medal."</p> + +<p>He put his strong arm around the shivering body, and +led him back to a kindly shelter.</p> + +<p>"Hay, Mrs. Connelly, and all of you: here's a lad that +has been half-killed for standing by his colors to-day. +Look here, Armstrong, would you mind going for Dr. +Maverick? this poor chap needs some patching-up. And, +Kit, give me some water and a napkin: we'll get his face +a little cool and clean."</p> + +<p>"Let me do it, Mr. Darcy. Sure, I've boys of my own, +and am used to it. Oh, the poor, poor lad!"</p> + +<p>Barton told his story over again. He was weak and +hysterical now, and they made him a shake-down on the +floor until the doctor came.</p> + +<p>"Now I'll start on my inspection-tour again," said +Darcy, turning away. "We are all likely to make a night +of it."</p> + +<p>He thought he would go around before he went in to +see the watchmen: they had placed a force on guard +quietly. He had just turned the second corner, when he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[340]</a></span> +saw a man jump from the high fence, and lie for an instant +as if stunned. He hastened on, but the man sprang up +and ran down the dark side of the street. His first impulse +was to follow; then it struck him as strange that the +dog gave no alarm. He had a gate-key in his pocket, and +unlocked it at once.</p> + +<p>"Bruno!" he called, "Bruno, good fellow, come +here."</p> + +<p>There was not a sound. The ominous silence thrilled +Jack.</p> + +<p>"Bruno!"</p> + +<p>Hark! a curious crackling or sweep of wind, and +smoky smell. He ran round to the rear. Close up +against the back door, quite out of the moonlight, something +was piled. Forked tongues of flame were shooting +out of it everywhere. He seized the chain attached to +the factory-bell, and rang it rapidly. There was a window +thrown up, and a voice called.</p> + +<p>"Fire! fire!" he shouted. "Turn on the hose,—the +lower back door."</p> + +<p>The flames streamed up fiercely now. It was plain that +the mound had been saturated with kerosene.</p> + +<p>Daly hurried down, and opened a door. "Hurd and +Byrnes are at the buckets and hose," he cried. "Where +is it? O Mr. Darcy!"</p> + +<p>"Quick, quick!" shouted Jack, rushing by him.</p> + +<p>The men had the hose ready. They put it out of the +window, turned on the stream, and in a few moments a +column of dense smoke rose amid the arrowy flashes of +lurid splendor. The watchman ran down from Connelly's.</p> + +<p>It was subdued in a few moments. They tore away +the charred boxes and <i>débris</i>, smoking and smouldering. +Underneath all they found the body of princely Bruno.</p> + +<p>"This is fiendish!" cried Jack, dragging the poor fellow +away, his scorched coat smelling horribly. "Brave +Bruno, you are the second hero of the night!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[341]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Whatever dastardly devil did this, knows as much +about Hope Mills as you or I," shouted Hurd savagely. +"Bruno was poisoned first; and he wouldn't have taken +any thing from a strange hand. But the fellow was a +fool to build the fire here."</p> + +<p>"I don't know about that," said Darcy. "If it had +burned the door down, it would have gone in the hall, and +up the hatchway—if it was open."</p> + +<p>"By thunder! so it would; and right to the stock-room. +That place must never be left open again while Hope +Mills stands, or co-operation waves her starry banner in +the breeze."</p> + +<p>"Loud applause!" said some one.</p> + +<p>The fire was thoroughly extinguished; and the guardian +of the night decided to remain here, being within call if +another disturbance should occur at Mrs. Connelly's. +The bells rang out for midnight. A few, who had +gathered at the alarm, dispersed: and every thing became +quiet again,—deadly, solemnly quiet.</p> + +<p>Jack wanted to see Maverick, so he paced back to +Mrs. Connelly's. He was trying to remember some +distinctive mark of the man he had seen jump. He +was too stout for Davy, and he could not believe such +villany of the man. Then Price was a little lame from +an old rheumatic affection, and would not have dared such +a deed.</p> + +<p>Barton Kane had been washed, patched, bandaged, put +to bed, and given an opiate; so now he was in a sound +but rather disturbed sleep. The men gathered in the +lunch-room, and discussed the cowardly attempt upon the +mill, the day's affairs generally.</p> + +<p>"See how great a matter a little fire kindles," said +Maverick. "But for McPherson's lecture here, I don't +believe any of these things would have happened. It is a +free country, of course, and a man has a right to air his +ideas; but capital is not set firmly enough on its legs to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[342]</a></span> +stand a severe fire, and labor is in too great a superabundance. +To seek to drain the ocean with a silver mug +may be grand, but quite hopeless."</p> + +<p>One! The witching hour, and a few sleepy men began +to yawn.</p> + +<p>"How odd it seems, not to hear trains in the night!" +Maverick said presently. "A queer lock-out this."</p> + +<p>One, again. One, two, three: this time the fire-alarm.</p> + +<p>They rushed out toward the mill. Then they as suddenly +wheeled around. In an instant the air seemed full +of shouts and cries, and a broad sheet of flame flared up +in the face of the tranquil heavens. A roar, like a +mighty tramping of hosts, a crackling, snapping, sweeping +sound.</p> + +<p>"It's Keppler's. Boyd's block will surely go!"</p> + +<p>The houses were frame, old and dry: Keppler's on the +corner, the rest joined, like a row of sheds, and filled with +the very poorest; a few apartments standing empty. The +engines were out, but it was of little avail. The corner +was just one brilliant sheet of lurid light. Shrieking +women and children fled for their lives. The street +swarmed again, and people trampled over one another in +their wild terror. There was a crash, and the building +fell in. The flames licked up the other fiery flood, and +had a brave battle in the cellar. The engines played until +the air was filled with smothering smoke, and there was +nothing left but a long, blackened ruin.</p> + +<p>"It may be ungenerous to rejoice in any man's misfortune," +said Maverick, "but in a sanitary point of +view I am thankful those old rookeries have come to an +end. Boyd wouldn't do any thing to them, and they were +unfit for pigs to live in. And, as for Keppler's, there will +be but one verdict this end of the town."</p> + +<p>Some one laid a hand on Jack Darcy's shoulder. He +turned and saw Fred Lawrence.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[343]</a></span></p> + +<p>"They are all worried to death about you, old chap," +began Fred. "Your mother, Miss Morgan, Sylvie,—and +Irene is walking the floor. I have not seen her so excited +since—since she had the fever. What a horrible thing! +Was any one lost, do you know?"</p> + +<p>"They will not be able to tell that until morning, +every thing is in such confusion. Pray God that the +morning may dawn soon! I seem to have lived through +years."</p> + +<p>The dawn came up by and by; first in faint opaline +splendors, then scarlet and gold. The moon paled, and +the stars dropped out, and there was a chirp of birds to +welcome the new-born day.</p> + +<p>The shock of the fire cooled the temper of the raiders, +for half the men were idle hangers-on, rather than absolute +strikers. One frantic woman flew to the scene of devastation: +her boy, four years old, was missing. They tried to +comfort her with the thought that some neighbor had +kindly taken him in, but she kept wildly imploring them +to search.</p> + +<p>There was no further molestation of the men at Hope +Mills. They walked in the yard quietly at seven o'clock, +their faces touched with surprise and terror when they +heard the story of the night. Barton Kane lay disabled +at Mrs. Connelly's, and poor Bruno was buried with +honors, regretted by the whole force.</p> + +<p>Jack called the men together, and addressed them briefly. +He was very pale, and his usually bright, clear eyes +were heavy.</p> + +<p>"I want to thank you," he said, in a tone that was a +little unsteady with exhaustion and emotion, "I want to +thank you for standing so bravely by me, and by your +principles. We are all partners together, and what is +one man's interest is every man's. I feel sure that we +shall never have another difficulty. We have gone +through the worst, and in a little while every man will<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[344]</a></span> +have his free choice again. Let us all keep the warmest +of friends until then."</p> + +<p>There was no cheering: they were not gay enough for +that. Some of the men wrung his hand silently; then the +women pressed forward, and invoked a blessing upon +him.</p> + +<p>"We know better nor any of 'em what it was to have +no fire, and childers cryin' for bread," said one woman, +wiping her eyes with the end of her faded shawl. "And, +thank the Lord, I've had bite, and sup, and fire, ever +since the day Hope Mills was opened."</p> + +<p>The men outside were working at the ruins,—among +them some of the strikers of yesterday. They found poor +Mrs. Rooney's little Johnny, burned to a crisp; and +in the house next to Keppler's they exhumed the body +of Biddy Brady, a good-natured, efficient washerwoman, +whose greatest fault was her intemperance. She and her +son had gone to bed very drunk, after having a good time +through the evening. The boy had been roused in season, +but she had perished. It was as vivid and fervent a temperance-lecture +as ever was given in Yerbury.</p> + +<p>About ten in the morning Jack Darcy returned home +dead tired, as much with the excitement as the fatigue, +took a bath, and went to bed.</p> + +<p>The Yerbury authorities looked sharply about them +that day. The strikers were orderly and quiet, but they +had lost ground. "The Evening Transcript" deprecated +all this sort of business, and for once had no fling about the +"Utopian theory of co-operation." But "The Leader" +of the morning came out strongly in praise of the good +order, forbearance, and <i>esprit de corps</i> of Hope Mills, +and called Mr. Darcy "our young and enterprising citizen, +whom, we doubt not, we shall hear of in higher +positions in life, which he has proved himself eminently +worthy to fill."</p> + +<p>There was no great lament made about Boyd's Row<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[345]</a></span> +or Keppler's saloon, except for the sad casualty it had +caused; but the dastardly attack on Mrs. Connelly, and +the fiendish attempt to burn Hope Mills, met with the +severest condemnation.</p> + +<p>Maverick came around to the Darcys that evening. +"I fancy I have found your man, Jack," he began. +"Mrs. Stixon called me in towards night, saying Jem had +been on a spree, and was dreadfully beaten. I found one +side of his face scratched and bruised, and bits of gravel +still adhering to the flesh. The right arm, on the same +side, has one bone broken, and his shoulder is dislocated. +He said he fell off of a stoop, and is dreadfully sullen. I +asked him what stoop, but he would not tell. Do you +remember which way the man fell?"</p> + +<p>Jack thought a moment. "On the right side, Maverick, +away from me, or I should have seen his face. +Just such a size man as Jem Stixon, too," with a satisfied +nod.</p> + +<p>"What will you do about it?"</p> + +<p>Jack took two or three turns across the floor. "See +here, Maverick, we will not do any thing. You cure the +poor fellow, and I think he will never try to damage +Hope Mills again. I can hardly forgive him Bruno, +though."</p> + +<p>"If I were Sylvie Barry,"—he never called her Mrs. +Lawrence when speaking of her,—"I should say, 'Jack, +you are an angel.'"</p> + +<p>Jack flushed. "Masculine angels!" he laughed.</p> + +<p>"Well, wasn't there Gabriel and a host of them? +Why, Jack, they were <i>all</i> masculine!"</p> + +<p>There was no need for earthly justice to meddle with +Jem Stixon. His arm inflamed: he had led a hard life +late years, and his system was in bad order. He would +not listen to amputation until it was too late, and in less +than a month he was dead. It was better for his poor +hard-working wife and family.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[346]</a></span></p> + +<p>One other death grew out of the summer riots, though +this was at a distance. Dennis Connelly had been working +with a railroad-gang, and the strikers there had a +desperate struggle with the civil authority. They were +worsted in the end, and Connelly was one of the victims, +or perhaps more truly speaking, a victim to bad whiskey, +for when sober he was very peaceable. Kit sent for his +body, and had him decently buried.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[347]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXVII.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> strikers at the hat-factory did not carry the day. +The employers were very indignant, and tabooed the +union men altogether. At Garafield's the men were called +in council, the points discussed, and a small advance in +wages allowed. The co-operatives went their way quietly. +Perhaps the most convincing argument was a very jubilant +letter from Winston, part of which Darcy put up in +the hall. He had just succeeded in making an important +contract for two years, on very fair terms. That would +see them through safely unless the whole world came to +grief again!</p> + +<p>Jack wrote Miss McLeod a graphic account of the +"labor troubles," and she replied with equally characteristic +<i>verve</i>. "She could hardly decide," she declared, +"whether to be glad, or sorry, that her young friend had +grown so independent of her; but in any emergency she +wished to be remembered."</p> + +<p>There was now a certain respect paid to Hope Mills, +among the community at Yerbury. Perhaps there are no +people so exacting and difficult to satisfy as those friends +and neighbors whose advice you have not taken, and prospered +without it. They indulge in a righteous self-complacency +if you are unfortunate, and pity you grandly; +but to own themselves mistaken is the one bitter flavor in +the cup. There seemed to be but one point now upon +which they were doubtful,—the honesty of the managers +at the last moment. Every workman knew or might know +exactly how affairs stood, but <i>they</i> did not have the capital.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[348]</a></span> +Just at the end of the five years <i>somebody</i> might abscond +with the money-bag under his arm. It seemed so +every way certain that human nature could not withstand +the temptation.</p> + +<p>Yet there was growing up among the hands a curious +neighborly sympathy, as if they were in some degree relatives; +and they were made so, in fact, by some marriages +of sons and daughters. They were more intelligent; they +kept their houses cleaner, their little gardens prettier, not +allowing them to go to weeds before the summer was half +over. Those who could go to the industrial school +learned a deal about sewing, and became seamstresses +instead of mill-girls. Some made their own family +dresses, some were very tasty milliners. It gave them a +reliance upon what they could do themselves. The two +daughters of one workman kept a little poultry-yard +"scientifically," and dressed themselves from its proceeds. +Industry became more general. Instead of dawdling away +whole evenings in gossip, they had some light employment, +and worked as they talked.</p> + +<p>The September showing was very encouraging. There +were still a great many bankruptcies and losses, but some +of them could not be guarded against. Darcy and Winston +regularly eschewed speculation, though the latter +confessed his fingers sometimes burned to be in the pie.</p> + +<p>"But, after all," he said frankly, "if the energy, ingenuity, +ambition, and strength that are expended to +make certain people buy and sell, over and over, a thing +that can be no more valuable than the money it makes +year by year, which often is not much,—if this were +turned into industrial and commercial channels,—gad! +what a country we would be! Our flag would float on +every sea, our goods be in every port. And yet they go +on, rich to-day because they have beggared their neighbor, +poor to-morrow because their neighbor has beggared +them. What idiotic business!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[349]</a></span></p> + +<p>But I must go back a little with my hero. There were +many things to occupy his mind, the summer of the +"strikes;" yet through it all, like one strain of heavenly +harmony in a clash of discord, he came to know the +diviner needs of his being. Another man might have +been dismayed at the revelation. Like a flash when the +horizon is opened, he saw the light; and he knew, from +the depths of the darkness the next moment, what manner +of storm it would be.</p> + +<p>He had never weakened or frittered away his sweetest +emotions on the various flirtations that fill the early years +of so many men. He had liked and admired Sylvie Barry +above all young women he had ever met; but this emotion, +though pure and lasting, never stirred the ardor of his +soul. Had it really lain untouched so long, or had some +vague dream slipped into it the night he and Sylvie had +planned the costume for Irene Lawrence, the time he first +encountered her beauty in all its vivid splendor? To him +she was a glorious young goddess.</p> + +<p>The long-ago summer day he had met the two in the +phaeton, he was more keenly pained for her sake than his +own. To be sure, his first emotion was that of angry indignation, +sending the outraged blood through every pulse; +then, as it cooled, the act appeared so utterly unwomanly. +If she had passed him by carelessly—but to designedly +attract his glance, and stab it thus, was as if a giant had +taken a club to kill a butterfly because it breathed the +fragrance of the rose. He shut out that vision. You +can tell what impression she had made upon him, when +he always thought of her as he saw her in the glow of +Sylvie's pretty parlor, that summer night. His healthy, +active temperament never brooded over disagreeable +things a moment longer than necessity kept him there.</p> + +<p>She faded from his mind by degrees. Even when he +took Fred back into the old regard, he thought of her as +the possible wife of some millionnaire. When she returned<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[350]</a></span> +to Yerbury, and shut herself up in stately despair, +refusing even Sylvie's proffered sympathy, she puzzled +him. How could she, so fond of admiration and gayety, +live this nun's life, without the nun's spiritual exaltation? +He passed her once or twice in the hall, as he was calling +on Fred, but neither made any sign.</p> + +<p>Then came that terrible night, when he had found her +astray, her brain consumed by the smouldering fire of isolation, +when you have only the black, choking smoke that +never blazes up in purifying flames. There are thousands +of women who have done this, weakly, sentimentally, +through the period of adversity that has tried the metal +of all souls; but she, being stronger, more self-reliant, +could not drop into puerile whining.</p> + +<p>At Depford Beach they had come in contact again. +There was both attraction and repulsion in these two +people, as there often is in strongly-marked, positive +natures. She tolerated him because he was Sylvie's +lover; despised him, believing that he meant to make a +stepping-stone of this girl's wealth and position; and, in +spite of herself, felt the current of his strength and buoyant +energy. By slow degrees the unwilling truth was +forced upon her, that God never created any human soul +for its own self-destruction; that there was no absolute +virtue in warping and twisting circumstances into chains +and bonds, that were ordained for higher, nobler purposes. +Her mental disease had run its course. Sylvie's sorrow +was the final electric shock that broke the heavy soil of +apathy.</p> + +<p>Her utter surprise when she found that through all +these years Jack Darcy had refrained from influencing +Sylvie in his behalf, was something quite indescribable. +She thought she had fathomed men's souls with her keen +insight, but this man was a Saul amid his peers. Had +there been some subtile, far-reaching foundation for Fred's +regard in the boyhood days,—something that their eyes, +being holden with golden bonds, could not see?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">[351]</a></span></p> + +<p>After the marriage there was a certain degree of association, +not intimacy. And yet she set herself to watch +him. Somewhere she would discern the print of the feet +of clay this idol of Fred and Sylvie's possessed.</p> + +<p>It was a most fascinating yet dangerous employment. +She used to sit there in her impassive grace, as they +talked, weighing every word, testing every sentiment, +watching the expressions that flitted over Jack Darcy's +countenance, until it went everywhere with her, the blue-gray +eyes piercing the very depths of her soul. They +came to the one night when a glance stirred and troubled +both, when the depths of both natures experienced that +curious shock of repulsion and wonder. It was not love, +it was too near, too awesome, yet too spiritually pure, to +be hate, still it sent them apart none the less surely.</p> + +<p>By degrees, even amid the hard struggle of the strikes, +he came to a self-knowledge. His perceptions were not +easily confused; and by that intuitive process born pure +in every soul, but too often marred and dulled by the +many counterfeits put upon it, he knew this was love, a +life-long passion for one woman, not because she had as +yet answered any need of his nature, or promised any +expansion into higher life. He loved her just as she was; +for her beauty, her swift, proud grace, her virtues if she +had any, her very faults, and of those he was not in doubt. +And he set himself to win her with the same high courage +that had taken Hope Mills in hand.</p> + +<p>Occasionally we see a man wrecked by this steady, persistent, +overwhelming love for an inferior object, caught +perhaps by some occult fascination that flashes all laws +out of sight. We wonder how he can be so led astray; +and yet it is an integral part of the man, a quality of the +soul which he would not overcome and put in bonds if he +could.</p> + +<p>He did not cringe or flatter, or adopt any of the fears or +weaknesses of passion. It was not weak, and he did not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">[352]</a></span> +fear. He meant to be master of her soul, and win her +through that very power, struggle as she might. He +would wait, if it were years, until she laid down her few +weak weapons, and capitulated. From that time onward, +there would be neither "mine" nor "thine."</p> + +<p>And now the fine, tested quality of his patience stood +him in good stead. He might long to draw near, to clasp +the snowy hand, to study the fathomless dusk of the eyes, +and note the frightened droop of the fringed lids; but he +held aloof. Still he went to Larch Avenue night after +night; he dropped in of a morning when least expected, +occasionally finding her alone for a few moments; he +walked from church with them, by her side, the only +times he came near her, and she felt in every pulse of her +being the indefinable something that she was impelled to +struggle against.</p> + +<p>A curious change came over her. The cold indifference +melted to a rose hue of interest, a pliant softness stole +over her figure, a certain buoyant tenderness diffused +itself in her tone, her dusky eyes came to have a startled +softness like a shy, frightened fawn. The old brilliant +color returned to cheek and lip, yet toned with the tremulous +throbbing of a new inward life, so exquisitely attuned +that she could but listen to the harmonious melody.</p> + +<p>She came to understand presently; the intangible power +in his demeanor roused her, I think; and her whole soul, +every fibre of her body, rose up in mutinous revolt. +Whither was this swift current carrying her? What great +wave was this that struck at the very props of her own +strength and reliance? How did this man dare to invade +the walled sanctities of her being? She would have none +of him: she would go on her solitary way, sufficient for +herself. She, who had never loved amid all the beguilements +the world had to offer, to be conquered by the very +man she had trained herself to despise!</p> + +<p>Irene Lawrence found it hard fighting with this unseen<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353">[353]</a></span> +foe. He seemed always lying in ambush, always armored +with a word or sentiment to which she must assent, always +before her in the place she had meant to be; and she +would not throw up the white flag of defeat. She would +not own to herself she experienced any alarm or annoyance.</p> + +<p>One evening Fred and Sylvie had gone to a neighbor's, +and were momentarily expected. A peculiar temptation +entered her soul. If this man must needs flutter in the +flame, why should she be tender and careful of him? +Others had dared her, to the burning of their very souls: +if the experience was worth the pain, he should have it, +and decide.</p> + +<p>She sat down at the piano, and shook a shower of melody +out of her slender finger-ends. All the affluent grace +of womanhood with the polish of society spoke in every +curve of her pliant figure, in the dainty, delicate, high-bred +gestures. The eyes hung out their false lights of +treacherous intent amid the half-slumberous fire; the very +lips seemed shaped and blossoming with a rare thrill of +passion that could turn to a caress at a look. All along +the brow ran fine sinuosities of light that dazzled like +the tracery of pale flame. Had she blossomed into some +royal midsummer flower that is seen but once in an age?</p> + +<p>She had motioned him close beside her with an impelling +wave of the hand. He could feel her warmth, her +fragrant breath; her soft billowy dress fell against his +foot in a crested wave; her white hand and slender wrist, +just toned, but not hidden, with rare lace like that of +Arachne's spinning, wandered temptingly over toward +him. A sudden delirium took possession of him, an exhilaration +that steeped the brain, that stirred every pulse, +that awoke in him an almost maddening desire to clasp +her in his arms, to drain such sweetness from her lips +that the whole world might be beggared ever after, and +he not care.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">[354]</a></span></p> + +<p>She knew the signs. She had seen more than one man +dally on the brink, and then topple over to the blankness +of despair. Even if she had pitied herself, which she +did not, she could have had no mercy on him. Now she +was set to her work, and she meant to do it if she brought +into play every fascination art and nature had furnished +her with.</p> + +<p>His soul rose and glowed within him. The music, the +most ravishing of its kind, stirred him to that intensity of +pain, it seemed as if he must cry out with torture. No +suffering had ever been like this: if the doctrine of sacrificial +fires were true, he might have purchased paradise.</p> + +<p>Did he mean never to stir or speak? Could that hand, +lying so passively on the corner of the piano, remain +unmoved, with hers just below it? Its defiant strength +stung her.</p> + +<p>"They do not come,"—looking warily around, and +passing him with her veiled eyes, rather than looking at +him. "Are you growing weary? Shall I sing for you?"</p> + +<p>The tone had the melody of some lotus-freighted stream. +She had thrown all her sweetness into it.</p> + +<p>"If you will."</p> + +<p>His was tremulous and husky with repressed passion.</p> + +<p>Her voice was not pure: it had the rich depth and +pathos of contralto, and the vibrant clearness of soprano. +Now it threaded a tremulous pathway among the pathetic +minor notes, while the fingers seemed to drop a faint sigh +of accompaniment,—</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"Oh! when ye hear me gie a loud, loud cry,—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">The broom blooms bonnie, and says it is fair,—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Shoot an arrow frae thy bow, and there let me lie,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">And we'll never gang down to the broom ony mair.</span><br /> +<br /> +"And when ye see that I'm lying cauld and dead,—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">The broom blooms bonnie, and says it is fair,—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Then ye'll put me in a grave wi' a turf at my head,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And we'll never gang down to the broom ony mair."</span><br /> +</div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355">[355]</a></span></p> + +<p>The last sad note died into summer-night sweetness. +A current of bland, dangerous magnetism passed between +them. She turned her splendid, passion-lighted eyes to +him, and the subtle, measuring, conquering forces in the +man and the woman met. With a mighty effort he thrust +back desire, and compressed his lips to a line under the +bronzed-gold moustache, while his eyes, like points of +steel, never wavered.</p> + +<p>Irene Lawrence turned blindly, and held out her hands +as if to grasp some sure stay. Just as surely as she had +not won, she had lost.</p> + +<p>"I have tired you," he said,—a murmur just under his +breath. "But you can hardly know the exquisite pleasure +you have given me. It is perfect. We will have no +more music to-night;" and he rose, shutting the piano +down.</p> + +<p>She went to the open window like one in a trance, so +stunned she could not even feel angry at his defiance of +her. A long, long moment of silence: then they heard +Sylvie's bright voice on the porch, and she came in with +a waft of dewy, outdoor fragrance.</p> + +<p>Miss Lawrence went to her room presently, to fight out +the battle with herself. She admitted then that she had +come to love Jack Darcy; but she was strong and resolute, +and would not be mastered by the passion. What +could she do? for go away she must! Her imperious will +and knowledge of men had availed her little to ward off +this one's influence. Every instinct had been baffled, +every movement had been met with a counterpoise. To +stay here, and struggle, would be to yield eventually.</p> + +<p>There were dark circles under her eyes the next morning, +tokens of her vigil and strife. She intrenched herself +again behind that dumb apathy: she stood aloof from +Sylvie. For days she escaped the watchful sight of +Darcy; but she heard his voice, and every rebellious pulse +was a-tremble. She cast about for some expedients<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356">[356]</a></span> +whereby to escape her prison honorably, and after several +fruitless efforts found one.</p> + +<p>In their early days there had been a girl-friend between +Agatha and Gertrude, who had always held an attraction +for the child Irene. Wealthy, beautiful, and accomplished, +she had married a man who had already made +for himself a name in statesmanship, a cultured and +polished gentleman, and her bridal had been the theme of +the day. But the fiend of intemperance had wrought +destruction of her brilliant prospects, and made her life +an open scandal. When it could no longer be borne, she +gathered up the wreck of her fortune and her two little +girls, and opened a boarding-school in a quiet, aristocratic +old town. Irene had met her in New York after +her own loss of fortune; and, though she had disdained +sympathy, she was touched by Mrs. Trenholme's kindliness.</p> + +<p>She wrote to her now; and, of half a dozen applications, +this was the only one that elicited a favorable reply. +Mrs. Trenholme needed a teacher of French and music, +and she knew Miss Lawrence's accent was perfect. The +salary was not large, being four hundred dollars a year; +but the duties were not very arduous, being all confined +to school-hours.</p> + +<p>Much as Irene desired to go, there was some struggle +with her pride before she could bring herself to accept. +Only the prospect of that greater pride being laid in +ruins before her eyes, could finally have induced her. +Mrs. Trenholme expressed her delight warmly.</p> + +<p>There were strenuous objections on Fred's part when +it came to be talked over. "She had no need. He was +as much her protector as her father had been: indeed, +was he not paying back the kindly care to himself, honoring +his father's memory by doing as he would have +done?"</p> + +<p>Sylvie came to the rescue presently.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_357" id="Page_357">[357]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I would let her go, Fred," she counselled. "Beverly +is a delightful place, with many cultured people, and Mrs. +Trenholme is just the woman to have an influence over +Irene. You see, she gets so tired of having no pursuit, +no strong interest. I could not endure it myself."</p> + +<p>"But she might have—I have dared to dream"—</p> + +<p>"Put away dreams, my darling." Sylvie's voice was +unconsciously sad. Then, with a smile, and tears, "If +God kept watch over us, and brought us to our haven, +can we not trust him for her,—for them?"</p> + +<p>And so they acquiesced.</p> + +<p>When Jack Darcy left Miss Lawrence on that fateful +evening, his whole soul was full of unrest. He paced +the quiet streets in that tense mood which makes thought +and breath alike torture. Now that it was over, he said, +with the inconsequence of love, that he had been a weak, +cowardly fool to fear his fate too much; and yet the next +instant he knew he would surely have lost it all, and that +in time she <i>must</i> come to need him. If he <i>could</i> wait! +Well, he <i>would</i> wait. He had not trained himself heretofore +in these long reaches of patience for no purpose. +That richly satisfying, inward sight, she could not take +from him, that exultant faith which was warmed and fed +from a thousand secret rills.</p> + +<p>He understood why she shunned him, why she had resolved +to leave Yerbury; and he was thankful now that he +had not ruined his cause by impatience. To think of not +seeing her, of not hearing her voice, was like madness! +His face grew thin, there were tense lines about his mouth +and a set resolve in his eyes; yet to his fine temper came +no moodiness or irritability. The task he had set for +himself must be accomplished. He was as absolute in +his self-denial as he would be in his happiness when that +came.</p> + +<p>So she went away with the merest friendly farewell, and +asked herself angrily, an hour after, what power this man<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_358" id="Page_358">[358]</a></span> +had over her, and why she feared him? Surely there was +not much of the lover in that calm face!</p> + +<p>He threw himself into the business with renewed energy. +As I said, the September account was inspiriting. +Prospects began to look brighter, only it was admitted on +all hands that the days of large profits and quick fortunes +were over for a long while, if not for all time. Industry +was coming to be respected, and you heard less talk +about luck.</p> + +<p>The outside world kept watch of them narrowly, jealously. +If they turned out thieves and swindlers, it would +not be for the lack of advice. However, they tramped on +and on. Their store gained a little, and was productive of +much good. Keppler went to a different part of the town. +Boyd sold the ground, and a row of decent cottages were +to be put up. Kit Connelly had been reimbursed by the +town for her damages, and with Ben Hay's advice and +counsel built an addition to her house, which he and Rose +took for housekeeping purposes. The lunch and coffee +room was a regular and profitable institution, and would +be a business for one of the boys as he grew up to +manhood.</p> + +<p>Sylvie and Fred went to the city for a winter holiday. +Fred's book was elegantly brought out, and won him much +praise and a little money. Sylvie achieved her ambition, +and sold two pictures at what she considered marvellous +prices, but she wisely confessed it only to her husband. +They were invited to clubs and soirées; and Mrs. Minor +was extremely affable, though she did blame Fred for +allowing Irene to take such an idiotic step.</p> + +<p>Darcy and Maverick indulged in two or three flying +trips. Miss McLeod liked nothing better than to get +these young people together, and listen to the animated +conversations, herself as spicy and sharp as any one. +Miss Lothrop was married; and in the slim, fair, blushing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_359" id="Page_359">[359]</a></span> +girl the old lady had for companion now, he saw no danger.</p> + +<p>So the winter wore away, and the spring came again; +and the man who was counting the days wondered wearily +at times what his summer harvest might be.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_360" id="Page_360">[360]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXVIII.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> regal woman who stepped from the car to the station-platform +at Yerbury, one balmy day in early June, to +be greeted by Fred and Sylvie Lawrence with the warmest +of welcomes, was indescribably different from the pale, +cold, haughty statue that had gone away. There was an +elasticity in her step, a self-reliance in her air, and the +peculiar confidence discipline wisely used inevitably imparts.</p> + +<p>Yet there had been no romantic or highly-wrought +change in her. She had not taken up teaching from any +heroic motive or the possible benefit to any one, but +simply to protect herself from what she considered the +weakness of her own soul, to get away from a danger she +could not fight. Oh, how she had hated French verbs and +exercises! If hers had been a susceptible musical temperament, +she would have gone quite crazy with the +blunders and sentimentalisms of young girls.</p> + +<p>After a month of it, she would have welcomed any +relief, even the face-to-face conflict with Darcy. But she +could not well run away from here, and her physical health +was perfect: so there was nothing but to go straight on, +and find that circumstances had to govern, that she could +not shut herself up in sullen majesty, or fling off the daily +duties for some wiser and more patient hands to pick up, +and restore to beauty and harmony.</p> + +<p>She had a friend, the best and truest that a young +woman could have, perhaps; a woman so admirably adapted +to the training of girls, that it was no marvel she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_361" id="Page_361">[361]</a></span> +succeeded. Out of the ruins of her life she had built up +another, wise, sweet, and strong. As Irene began to comprehend +what Mrs. Trenholme had suffered and achieved, +for the first time she paid an honest reverence to the +nobility of character. And now she despised her own +petty, shallow thoughts and beliefs. Her lofty despising +of the world and the vain and selfish people therein had +been only a kind of scornful regret for the treasures +wrested from her, the glitter of fashion, the gauds of +society. Fred had made a braver stand than she. He +had not sought to poise himself on the easy, graceful +rounds of past promises, and to dream futile weakening +dreams, nor shut himself up in morbid isolation.</p> + +<p>After all, how little the great world really cared! It +was the few friends, the small circle, the near influences, +that were of importance. And when she found that here +in cultured, delightful Beverly, she was sought out as an +entertaining guest, that she had not lost caste because +the great bubble of fortune had shivered into fragments, +that dressing and shopping and flirting were not the highest +of human enjoyments, she came to a very rational +frame of mind, and to a certain extent enjoyed her life. +But nature had not made her a teacher of children, and +never does such women, until, informed by that highest of +all love, they teach their own.</p> + +<p>She came back beautiful, strong, and brave, resolute to +dare any thing. She dazzled them at the little tea-table +by her swift, easy animation, her brilliancy, the color that +went and came, the smiles that were like rippling billows +over a sea. And Sylvie's heart went down like lead, +though it was such a fair picture. "For now," she +thought, "Jack will never dare to love her!"</p> + +<p>Perhaps not, if he had to begin now. But the love was +in him and of him, and would be hers all his life long, +whether she took it or no.</p> + +<p>He did not come for a day or two. She wondered a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_362" id="Page_362">[362]</a></span> +little: she even laughed lightly at her own past fear, the +shadow she had conjured up, the warm blood ran so +healthily through her veins now.</p> + +<p>He sauntered in one morning to find her cutting roses +with Sylvie, the two the fairest flowers in all the garden. +He was in no wise abashed at this vision of loveliness: if +she had a dower of beauty, he had his unstained manhood.</p> + +<p>They chatted and laughed. Sylvie pinned a pale bud +and geranium-leaf in his coat. He held out his hand to +Irene with a curious little gesture. She had two or three +great royal purple pansies clasped lightly in her fingers.</p> + +<p>She meant to refuse courteously, but their eyes met. +Was it the old spell working?</p> + +<p>Surely, surely all these fine-spun barriers, all these cunning +Alps that she had thrown up day after day, were over-leaped +at a supple bound. Master herself she might; but +he stood in his man's power and pride and love, a suppliant, +yet king, asking with wordless lips a little favor, +taking with calm yet passionate eyes a royal largess. +Her heart sank; her breath came in one long, tremulous +sweep. Whether she gave, or he took, she could not have +told; but he went away with the pansies in his fingers, +despite Sylvie's pleading for a longer stay.</p> + +<p>When he was quite out of sight, he kissed them, sweet, +tender, longing kisses. Then he dropped them between +the white leaves of a little book, to be sacred forever. +Sylvie's <i>boutonnière</i> might keep him company outwardly, +but those no eye must feast upon.</p> + +<p>He took the fine right of a lover, not declared, yet certain +of his ground, not using any power that she could +disdain or wound, it was so delicate, intangible, the perfume +without the flower, the little thoughtfulness for her, +reaching for her fan, folding her shawl about her if the +evening blew up cool, seeming to know her wants the +very instant they occurred to herself. And though she +rebelled in secret, though she resolved heroically to put an +end to it all, the golden moment never came.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_363" id="Page_363">[363]</a></span></p> + +<p>It seemed as if the four were always together. Not +but what Yerbury opened spacious doors to them, and +proffered flattering welcomes; but they could not tone +themselves to the insipidities of society. There were +more complete and intense enjoyments. Sylvie and Irene +took long drives through country lanes, or of a moonlight +summer evening they all went. They sat on the porch, +and Jack came strolling by: they went within, and there +were books, music, desultory talking, and that wondrous, +unseen guest in their midst.</p> + +<p>Sylvie rarely left her alone. They were not the women +to tease one another by flippant jests or allusions; and +Mrs. Fred, of all others, had a dread of thrusting any +vulgar face on this colorless, yet delicious, atmosphere. +Love knew his own, and was sacredly known of them.</p> + +<p>Irene Lawrence could no more help blossoming under +the intense yet steady warmth of his temperament, the +vivid creative life in every feature, than she could have +helped being at all; and to have refused or destroyed the +love would have been as sure spiritual suicide as a poison +to the body. He understood that she came to see this +presently; and then his suit was half won,—more than +half: he had only to go on to the royal fruition of hope +and patience. She no longer shunned him: she dropped +that pointed, distant "Mr. Darcy," and in the soul's +own language, gave him no outward name.</p> + +<p>And, when he took her at her royal flood-tide, the words +of asking and answering mattered little. A look, a tone, +a clasp of hands, a last struggle of her pride, and she +was his.</p> + +<p>The wide, warm summer night closed about them: the +dusk was rich with floating dewy perfumes, and golden +stars dazzled in the clear, moonless sky. Out in the trees +a little bird, startled from her nap, sang a brief, sweet +song to her little ones. He drew the proud yet yielding +figure closer: their hearts beat, their flushed cheeks<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_364" id="Page_364">[364]</a></span> +touched, their lips met in one long, heavenly caress, their +hands clasped until pulse throbbed with pulse in impassioned +unison.</p> + +<p>Only a death and a great love can so change the aspect +of life. As in the grave lies buried the dearest promises +of love, hope, existence itself, and we learn in time to +cling to every faint dream, so, like a resurrection, love +sweeps away the sins and follies and weaknesses of the +past, and rises from the dust and ashes transformed, renewed, +nay, born again to the most sacred purposes.</p> + +<p>A strange, swift impression rushed over her as she met +the eager, intense eyes. Was it in another world these +arms had closed about her with their strong, restful clasp? +She started abruptly: she seemed to listen, to puzzle herself +with the bewildering impression.</p> + +<p>"What is it, my darling?" in a deep, ardent voice.</p> + +<p>"I don't know"—with a nervous laugh and shiver. +"Have we met in some other country? Did you carry +me over mountains, or through valleys, or hide me from a +storm? Was this why I could never get away, try as I +might?"</p> + +<p>Oh the wordless, entreating beauty of those eyes!</p> + +<p>"My queen, my own, you will never try again."</p> + +<p>"Never!" with a long, delicious, sobbing breath. +"Why are you so irresistibly, so powerfully strong, +Jack? Do you know,—you <i>must</i> know how wicked I +have been! If you cast me out, it would only be a proper +punishment. I don't mean that my lips or my hands are +blurred with other men's kisses. I never could endure +that," shuddering. "But they laid down their hearts, +and I walked over them: they were weak, and I was +strong! And one night I tried"—her voice sank to a +beseeching, half-shamed murmur.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he gave a pure, genial laugh, rich in his own +sustaining strength. "You would have broken my heart, +your own too; for I think, even then, you loved me."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_365" id="Page_365">[365]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I surely have never been indifferent. It was either +love or hate. Do you remember the first evening I saw +you in the parlor yonder?"</p> + +<p>She learned ere long, that he had never forgotten any +thing; but the depth and perfectness of his love she could +not learn in a day.</p> + +<p>If Jack Darcy had been patient hitherto, that grand +quality seemed suddenly exhausted. He absolutely hurried +her into a marriage,—hurried Sylvie too, who wanted +the courtship to proceed with measured, golden steps.</p> + +<p>"As if it were not to be a courtship all one's life!" +said radiant Jack. "Now the moments break in the +middle, there are tangled ends, and endless beginnings, +and one can hardly remember where one left off. Were +you sorry to go to Fred?"</p> + +<p>"Why, no!" with wide-open, surprised eyes.</p> + +<p>He carried the day at last, and September was appointed. +They would be married in the old church. +Mrs. Minor responded to the tidings by a visit. She had +treasured up a great many things to say to Irene; but for +once she was quite overwhelmed, and her sneers and patronage +fell to the ground. Though she did remark to her +mother,—</p> + +<p>"Of course I <i>am</i> disappointed that Irene, with her +face and style, has not done any better; but you cannot +expect much after one passes twenty. Mr. Darcy has +improved certainly, and Irene is not as exclusive as we +older girls were. It is a great pity she did not go out to +Gertrude."</p> + +<p>For George Eastman, with a cat-like propensity, always +came down on his feet. He was now at the flood-tide of +prosperity—on other people's money. Mrs. Eastman +was regal in velvets, sables, and diamonds, queening it at +St. Petersburg. Some day there might be a crash again, +but they would be well out of the way.</p> + +<p>Miss Lawrence would have no diamonds, and no show;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_366" id="Page_366">[366]</a></span> +but she was dazzling in her radiant loveliness; and, if +Jack was not handsome, his superb manliness redeemed +him. Hope Mills took a holiday. All Yerbury went, it +seemed; and those who could not get in remained outside +for a glimpse.</p> + +<p>Sylvie and Fred leaned over the registry in the vestry-room. +In a bold hand the bridegroom had written, +"John Beaumanoir Darcy."</p> + +<p>"A compliment to Irene's pride," laughed Sylvie. +"The most aristocratic name of them all!"</p> + +<p>The old house was brightened up a bit before the young +couple returned. Gentle Mrs. Darcy wondered how it +would be between the old and the new love; but she remembered +with charity, that she had taken the fresh +young love of another Darcy, and was content with her +day.</p> + +<p>The young people brought a new atmosphere with them, +but it did not clash with the old. Jane Morgan was +planning a home for herself. One of the cut-up farms +had been put together again; and she had taken a five-years' +lease at a low rate, to try a prudent and sensible +scheme of philanthropy. Maverick had been intensely +puzzled by Jack's love-affair, and could not yet account +for it satisfactorily, but watched them both with a kind of +amused interest, and dreamed of the deft, dainty little +fairy down at his aunt's.</p> + +<p>I suppose I ought to say that Mrs. Jack Darcy vied +with her husband in all good works,—in schools and clubs, +and plans for everybody's improvement; but it was <i>not</i> +her <i>forte</i>. He was too well satisfied with her love for +him, her music, her enchanting ways, to wish her any +different; and I think he would have been jealous, with +that exclusive, tender, adoring jealousy, that cannot +endure its choice treasures lavished upon others. She +was kindly and generous in a stately, queenly fashion; +but what between Jack, who was a more importunate lover<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_367" id="Page_367">[367]</a></span> +than ever, and the baby born at Larch Avenue, she had +her hands quite full.</p> + +<p>The five years of mutual copartnership drew to a close. +Their young engineer had not blown up the mills; Bob +Winston did not go off at the last moment with the balance +at the bank; Jack Darcy had not falsified accounts: +but it came out just as <i>everybody</i> had predicted that it +would! "If your men were honest and honorable, co-operation +could not fail of success. It was the simplest +of all schemes," said "The Evening Transcript."</p> + +<p>The two offices were thrown into one by the sliding-doors, +and the workmen and women assembled in their +holiday gear. Jack Darcy was really struck with the +change in their faces and the general demeanor. They +had a brisk, cheery, self-reliant air: there was a certain +neatness and respectability about which they used not to +care in the old times. The boys of five years ago were +grown men, and there wasn't a sturdier one among them +than Barton Kane.</p> + +<p>And now Jack Darcy proceeded to read the statement +of the whole period, to which every one listened with the +most profound attention.</p> + +<p>At the close of the first year, after rent, wages, and all +other expenses were taken out, the accumulation of profits +had been $21,642.27. One-half of this, $10,821.13.5, +had been turned directly over to capital: the other half, +the profit of labor, was divided again in equal shares, one +going to capital for every person, the other, amounting +to $5,410.56.7, paid over to them as compensation for +three-quarter wages. Of course the men had been delighted. +They remembered their first joy even now.</p> + +<p>Then had followed the disastrous second year, which +had no such golden story to tell. The first six months, +interest and discount had made horrible inroads into capital, +and there had not only been no surplus, but an actual +deficiency. The latter half showed a poor frightened balance<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_368" id="Page_368">[368]</a></span> +of $137. But this year they improved greatly in +economic management and several new processes that +gave larger profit with less labor and outlay, so the hard +strain had not been entirely without its uses. Capital +had gone down in the valley of humiliation, and had a +sorry time of it; but with it had come a knowledge and +sympathy they could have acquired in no other way.</p> + +<p>The third year had proved a grand success. They had +all worked so heartily together, and business had been +undeniably good. Profits had been $41,854.92, with very +limited discounts. After this there was none, and unused +capital began to draw a little interest. This year there +had been $10,963.73 to pay over to the men on the quarter +share. The fourth year there had been numerous +bankrupt stocks thrown on the market, and every one +trying to do his utmost again: still the balance had been +by no means disheartening, amounting to $34,982.67; +capital's share being $17,491.33, and the wages overplus +$8,745.66. The last year's profits had footed up $43,101.56.</p> + +<p>There was now in accrued capital stock $106,288.81.5; +and this was to be divided in the <i>pro rata</i> of each man's +share, the larger amounts making the most, of course. +And now they saw the object of saving. They had earned +full wages and something beside; and, though wages had +not reached the high point of good times, on the other +hand they had not fallen below a reasonable standard, +even with the bad year. There had been steady work for +the whole five years, and every man had been practised in +thrift, economy, and self-denial.</p> + +<p>Of those who had begun with them, seven had been discharged +for drunkenness and insubordination, their share +forfeited to the fund for sick and disabled workmen; +three had gone out from loss of faith in the plan, accepting +Winston's offer to sell; four had died, and thirteen +had left from various other causes. So that there had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_369" id="Page_369">[369]</a></span> +been a much greater degree of steadiness than usually +obtains among factory-workmen. This led to a decided +improvement in many other respects. With a prospect of +being permanent, the men were induced to buy homes, +and took a greater interest in the management and welfare +of their own town.</p> + +<p>The balance was divided, each man receiving his check, +and with it a detailed statement of the whole five years. +They were now quite free, the industrial partnership +having legally expired. Hope Mills would take a fortnight +holiday for repairs and re-organization.</p> + +<p>"What if there were to be no re-organization?" exclaimed +Ben Hay suddenly.</p> + +<p>The men stared blankly at one another. No "Hope +Mills," and the foundation-stone of life would have fallen +out!</p> + +<p>Robert Winston addressed them, thanking them very +heartily for their co-operation, and expressing a hope that +each man would be satisfied with the result of five of the +hardest years the country had ever known. There was +no doubt now, judging from our exports, and the amount +of money coming in from every quarter of the globe, as +one might say, that we had entered upon an era of +prosperity. We had been educated to the practice of +prudence, of common-sense, and sound principles, we had +gained fibre and stamina, and he hoped we had gained +honesty and integrity. If we could not always compete +with low-priced manufacturers, the solid truth was made +manifest in the end. They might take for their passwords, +"Honesty, industry, and fidelity."</p> + +<p>There was a great deal of cheering, and then Darcy +was called upon for a speech. He did himself infinite +credit, for in these five years not a man among them had +made more rapid strides than Jack Darcy. As he stood +there now, noble in form, in bearing, and with his good, +strong, manly face, they felt somehow that he was <i>their</i> +hero, and the cheering was heartier than ever.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_370" id="Page_370">[370]</a></span></p> + +<p>Then Cameron must say a few words, and Ben Hay and +Jesse Gilman; and, as Jack declared afterward, it was a +regular experience-meeting among brethren. They pressed +around, and shook hands with Darcy and Winston, the +captain and the pilot with whom they had weathered gales, +and been brought safely into port. And they would not +let them stir out of the building until they had appointed +a meeting to form the company again, this time on a +somewhat stronger basis. They were firmly convinced +now that this was the only way in which it was possible +for workmen to make any advancement.</p> + +<p>At length the crowd began to disperse. Jack started +homeward; but, before he had walked half the distance, +Davy, one of the men who had gone out in the first trouble, +confronted him suddenly, seizing his hand.</p> + +<p>"O Mr. Darcy!" said he in a most eager tone, "are +you going to form over again? Do you think there's +a chance for me to be taken back? There hasn't been a +day nor a night but what I've cursed myself for being +such a fool as to let anybody talk me out of a good job. +I see just how it is now. And, if I can get back again, +I'll stand by the old ship through thick and thin. O +Mr. Darcy! please speak a good word for me!"</p> + +<p>"That I will, Davy, if it is needed."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, thank you, a thousand times!" cried the +poor fellow gratefully.</p> + +<p>Yerbury had plenty of praise now. To be sure, times +<i>had</i> improved. If every year had been like the second, +it would not have been possible to make co-operation +work; but then, would it have been possible to carry on +any business with continual loss? The starting of Hope +Mills had inspired other disheartened firms, and given an +impetus to Yerbury industries that might have lain much +longer in the Slough of Despond.</p> + +<p>Fred and Sylvie came over to the Darcys to tea that +evening, and Maverick dropped in of course.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_371" id="Page_371">[371]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Mrs. Darcy," he exclaimed, "I do not see why you +did not have a daughter for me to marry! Then we +could all have been relations, you see. I think it a +great mistake on your part."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Darcy glanced at her son with a peculiar light in +her eyes.</p> + +<p>Jack laughed. "She is thinking," he explained, "that +if there had been another one, I should have gone off long +ago to seek my fortune. I have learned that God may +have better work for one than simply following out his +own will;" and his voice dropped to a reverential tone.</p> + +<p>Maverick studied him with a peculiar interest. All +these years there had been growing up in Jack Darcy a +plant of nobler promise than mere worldly ambition. Not +that he in any manner despised wealth: he had come to +understand its true uses. The same power that had educated +the workmen had been going on with silent, steady +processes in him. He had come to comprehend the dignity +of the soul, and that God desired his return in the +deeds done for one another, in the continual progress, the +greatness, nobleness, and loyalty we offered "to one of +the least of these." Was this true religion,—the simple +doctrine of the Cross? And Maverick bowed his head +in unconscious reverence.</p> + +<p>They started homeward presently. Sylvie and Irene +had some "last words" about baby Lawrence, and the +two men paced up and down the porch a few moments.</p> + +<p>"Thank God that it all came out so well!" said Jack +in his strong, reverent tone.</p> + +<p>Fred put his arm over Jack's shoulder. The two men +seemed types of all that was highest and finest in human +nature.</p> + +<p>"Jack," began the other in his full, rich tone, tremulous +with emotion, "do you remember that in my romantic +boyhood I used to liken you to King Arthur? You +have merged into a nobler hero since that day. Who but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_372" id="Page_372">[372]</a></span> +a Sir Galahad, true, strong, unselfish, at once just yet +tender, ambitious for the Holy Grail of our times, yet +never swerving from the path of honor; keeping his own +soul stainless amid the many temptations of the world—who +save such a soul could have gone on in your path to +the end? And of the other Christ-like virtue"—</p> + +<p>"Don't, don't, Fred! You always did rate me too +highly, you know. I am only a man."</p> + +<p>"It is something to be a man in these days," returned +the other.</p> + +<p>The shady blue eyes smiled out of their twilight depth.</p> + +<p>"Fred, where are you?" cried a sweet voice.</p> + +<p>"You gave me <i>her</i>. You taught me to gain the great +prize of my life as surely as you trained the men in the +mill yonder. God bless you!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_373" id="Page_373">[373]</a></span></p> +<h3>LEE AND SHEPARD'S</h3> + +<h2>SELECT FICTION</h2> + + +<div class='center'><i>All prices given are for CLOTH BINDING, unless +otherwise specified</i></div> + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Select Fiction"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>The Way of the World.</b> By William T. Adams (Oliver Optic). Illustrated</td><td align='right'> $1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Living Too Fast.</b> By William T. Adams (Oliver Optic). Illustrated</td><td align='right'> 1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Indoors and Out.</b> By William T. Adams (Oliver Optic). Illustrated</td><td align='right'> 1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>The Fortunate Island.</b> By Max Adeler. Illustrated</td><td align='right'> 1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Dora Darling, the Daughter of the Regiment.</b> By Jane G. Austin. Illustrated</td><td align='right'> 1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Dora Darling and Little Sunshine.</b> By Jane G. Austin</td><td align='right'> 1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Life in Danbury.</b> By James M. Bailey. Illustrated</td><td align='right'> 1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Mr. Phillips' Goneness.</b> By James M. Bailey. Illustrated</td><td align='right'> 1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>The Danbury Boom.</b> By James M. Bailey. Illustrated</td><td align='right'> 1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>They All Do It.</b> By James M. Bailey</td><td align='right'> 1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Running to Waste.</b> By George M. Baker. Illustrated</td><td align='right'> 1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Something Better.</b> By George M. Baker</td><td align='right'> 1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>A Year Worth Living.</b> By Rev. W. M. Baker</td><td align='right'> 1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Bright Days in the Old Plantation Time.</b> By Mary Ross Banks. Illustrated</td><td align='right'> 1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Simplicity and Fascination.</b> By Anne Beale</td><td align='right'> 1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Nora's Return;</b> a Sequel to "The Doll's House." By Ednah. D. Cheney. Palatine Boards</td><td align='right'>.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Life and Times of Jesus</b>, as related by Thomas Didymus. By Rev. James Freeman Clarke</td><td align='right'> 1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>His Marriage Vow.</b> By Mrs. C. F. Corbin</td><td align='right'> 1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Nobody's Husband.</b> By Samuel W. Cozzens</td><td align='right'> 1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Andersonville Violets.</b> By Herbert W. Collingwood</td><td align='right'> 1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Battles at Home.</b> By Mary G. Darling. Illustrated</td><td align='right'> 1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>In the World.</b> By Mary G. Darling. Illustrated</td><td align='right'> 1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>The Dawning.</b></td><td align='right'> 1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>The Lily and the Cross.</b> By James De Mille. Illustrated</td><td align='right'> 1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Fore and Aft.</b> By Robert B. Dixon. Cloth</td><td align='right'> 1.25</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Herman, or Young Knighthood.</b> By E. Foxton. 2 volumes</td><td align='right'>3.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Perseverance Island.</b> By Douglas Frazar</td><td align='right'> 1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Castle Foam.</b> By Harry W. French</td><td align='right'> 1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Ego.</b> By Harry W. French</td><td align='right'> 1.00</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<div class='center'><br /><b>By MARY A. DENISON</b></div> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Denison fiction"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>His Triumph</b></td><td align='right'> 1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Like a Gentleman</b></td><td align='right'> 1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Mr. Peter Crewitt</b></td><td align='right'> 1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Rothmell</b></td><td align='right'> 1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Tell Your Wife</b></td><td align='right'> 1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>That Wife of Mine</b></td><td align='right'> 1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>That Husband of Mine</b></td><td align='right'> 1.00</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_374" id="Page_374">[374]</a></span></p> + + +<div class='center'><br /><b>By AMANDA M. DOUGLAS</b></div> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Douglas Fiction"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Osborne of Arrochar</b></td><td align='right'> $1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>A Modern Adam and Eve</b></td><td align='right'> 1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>The Fortunes of the Faradays</b></td><td align='right'> 1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>A Woman's Inheritance</b></td><td align='right'> 1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Claudia</b></td><td align='right'> 1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Floyd Grandon's Honor</b></td><td align='right'> 1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Foes of Her Household</b></td><td align='right'> 1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>From Hand to Mouth</b></td><td align='right'> 1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Home Nook</b></td><td align='right'> 1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Whom Kathie Married</b></td><td align='right'> 1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Hope Mills</b></td><td align='right'> 1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>In Trust</b></td><td align='right'> 1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Nelly Kinnard's Kingdom</b></td><td align='right'> 1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Stephen Dane</b></td><td align='right'> 1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Out of the Wreck</b></td><td align='right'> 1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Seven Daughters</b></td><td align='right'> 1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Sydnie Adriance</b></td><td align='right'> 1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>The Old Woman Who Lived in a Shoe</b></td><td align='right'> 1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Lost in a Great City</b></td><td align='right'> 1.50</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<hr style="width: 25%;" /> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="More fiction"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Nuna, the Brahmin Girl.</b> By Harry W. French. Illustrated</td><td align='right'> 1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>The Only One.</b> By Harry W. French</td><td align='right'> 1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>A Captive of Love.</b> By Edward Greey. Illustrated.</td><td align='right'> 1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>The Golden Lotus.</b> By Edward Greey. Illustrated</td><td align='right'> 1.75</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Malbone.</b> An Oldport Romance. By Thomas Wentworth Higginson</td><td align='right'> 1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Marion Graham.</b> By Margaret Woods Lawrence</td><td align='right'> 1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>The Demagogue.</b> By D. R. Locke (Nasby)</td><td align='right'> 1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>A Paper City.</b> By D. R. Locke (Nasby)</td><td align='right'> 1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>The Morals of Abou Ben Adhem.</b> By D. R. Locke (Nasby)</td><td align='right'> 1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Ekkoes from Kentucky.</b> By D. R. Locke (Nasby). Illustrated</td><td align='right'> 1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Swingin' Round the Cirkle.</b> By D. R. Locke (Nasby). Illus.</td><td align='right'> 1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Little Baron Trump and His Wonderful Dog Bulger.</b> By Ingersoll Lockwood</td><td align='right'>2.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Little Giant Boab and His Talking Raven Tabib.</b> By Ingersoll Lockwood</td><td align='right'>2.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Barbara Thayer.</b> By Annie Jenness Miller</td><td align='right'> 1.50</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<div class='center'><br /><b>By SOPHIE MAY</b><br /> + +Sophie May's "Grown-up" Stories</div> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Sophie May Stories"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Drone's Honey.</b></td><td align='right'> 1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Janet: a Poor Heiress.</b> Illustrated</td><td align='right'> 1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Our Helen.</b> Illustrated</td><td align='right'> 1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Quinnebasset Girls.</b> Illustrated</td><td align='right'> 1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>The Asbury Twins.</b> Illustrated</td><td align='right'> 1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>The Doctor's Daughter.</b> Illustrated</td><td align='right'> 1.50</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<hr style="width: 25%;" /> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Still more fiction"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Which—Right or Wrong?</b> By Miss M. L. Moreland. Illustrated</td><td align='right'> 1.25</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>The Blind Men and the Devil.</b> By Phineas</td><td align='right'> 1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>The Puddleford Papers, or Humors of the West.</b> By H. H. Riley. Illustrated</td><td align='right'> 1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Rosecroft.</b> By W. M. F. Round</td><td align='right'> 1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Achsah.</b> By W. M. F. Round. Illustrated</td><td align='right'> 1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>The Fall of Damascus.</b> By W. W. Russell</td><td align='right'> 1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Daisy Travers.</b> By Mrs. A. F. Samuels. Illustrated</td><td align='right'> 1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Seola.</b> By Mrs. J. Gregory Smith</td><td align='right'> 1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Brushes and Chisels.</b> By Signor Teodoro Serrao. Tri-color cloth, 1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>A Tight Squeeze.</b> By "Staats." Cloth, $1.00; paper,</td><td align='right'>.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>John Thorn's Folks.</b> By Angeline Teal</td><td align='right'> 1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Man Proposes.</b> By F. H. Underwood</td><td align='right'> 1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Lord of Himself.</b> By F. H. Underwood</td><td align='right'> 1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Edward Burton.</b> By Henry Wood</td><td align='right'>.25</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Mrs. Armington's Ward.</b> By Mrs. D. Thew Wright</td><td align='right'> 1.00</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_375" id="Page_375">[375]</a></span></p> + + +<div class='center'><br /><b>By VIRGINIA F. TOWNSEND</b></div> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Townsend fiction"> +<tr><td align='left'>A Boston's Girl's Ambition</td><td align='right'> $1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>That Queer Girl</td><td align='right'> 1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Daryll Gap</td><td align='right'> 1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Lenox Dare</td><td align='right'> 1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>A Woman's Word</td><td align='right'> 1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>But a Philistine</td><td align='right'> 1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Only Girls</td><td align='right'> 1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Deerings of Medbury</td><td align='right'> 1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Hollands</td><td align='right'> 1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Six in All</td><td align='right'> 1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Mills of Tuxbury</td><td align='right'> 1.00</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Trafton Fiction"> +<tr><td align='left'>An American Girl Abroad. By Adeline Trafton. Illustrated</td><td align='right'> 1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Katherine Earle. By Adeline Trafton</td><td align='right'> 1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>His Inheritance. By Adeline Trafton.</td><td align='right'> 1.50</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<div class='center'><br /><b>By J. T. TROWBRIDGE</b></div> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Trowbridge Fiction"> +<tr><td align='left'>Neighbor Jack</td><td align='right'> $1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Cudjo's Cave</td><td align='right'> 1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Drummer Boy</td><td align='right'> 1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Three Scouts</td><td align='right'> 1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Farnell's Folly</td><td align='right'> 1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Martin Merrivale</td><td align='right'> 1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Neighbors' Wives</td><td align='right'> 1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Coupon Bonds</td><td align='right'> 1.50</td></tr> +</table></div> + + + +<div class='center'><br /><b>By Judge D. P. THOMPSON.</b></div> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Thomson fiction"> +<tr><td align='left'>The Green Mountain Boys</td><td align='right'> 1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Rangers, or The Tory's Daughter</td><td align='right'> 1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>May Martin, and Other Tales of the Green Mountains</td><td align='right'> 1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Locke Amsden, the Schoolmaster</td><td align='right'> 1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Wreck of the Chancellor. By Jules Verne</td><td align='right'> 1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>A Winter in the Ice. By Jules Verne. Illustrated</td><td align='right'> 1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Adventures of a Chinaman. By Jules Verne. Illustrated,</td><td align='right'> 1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Around the World in Eighty Days. By Jules Verne. "</td><td align='right'> 1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Italian Girl. By Mrs. K. S. Washburn</td><td align='right'> 1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Perfect Love Casteth Out Fear. By Mrs. K. S. Washburn</td><td align='right'> 1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Gates Wide Open. By George Wood</td><td align='right'> 1.50</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<div class='center'><br />THE FOLLOWING ARE OFFERED IN +PAPER COVERS</div> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Paper covered fiction"> +<tr><td align='left'>Mr. Phillips' Goneness. By James M. Bailey</td><td align='right'> $0.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Danbury Boom. By James M. Bailey</td><td align='right'>.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>They All Do It. By James M. Bailey</td><td align='right'>.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Something Better. By George M. Baker</td><td align='right'>.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Nobody's Husband. By S. W. Cozzens</td><td align='right'>.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Andersonville Violets. By Herbert W. Collingwood</td><td align='right'>.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Mr. Peter Crewitt. By Mary A. Denison</td><td align='right'>.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tell Your Wife. By Mary A. Denison</td><td align='right'>.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>That Wife of Mine. By Mary A. Denison</td><td align='right'>.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>That Husband of Mine. By Mary A. Denison</td><td align='right'>.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Lost in a Great City. By Amanda M. Douglas</td><td align='right'>.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>A Paper City</td><td align='right'>.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Morals of Abou Ben Adhem</td><td align='right'>.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Ekkoes from Kentucky</td><td align='right'>.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Swingin' Round the Cirkle</td><td align='right'>.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Puddleford Papers. By H. H. Riley</td><td align='right'>.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Barbara Thayer. By Annie Jenness Miller</td><td align='right'>.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Blind Men and the Devil. By Phineas</td><td align='right'>.50</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class='center'> +<i>Any of the above sent, postpaid, on receipt of price</i><br /> +LEE AND SHEPARD, Publishers BOSTON<br /> +</div> + + + + + + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_376" id="Page_376">[376]</a></span></p> +<h2><span class="u"><span class="smcap">Historical Books</span></span> * * * *<br /> + +* * * * <span class="u"><span class="smcap">for Young People</span></span></h2> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class='unindent'><br /><span class="u"><b><i>Young Folks' History of the United States</i></b></span></div> + +<p>By <span class="smcap">Thomas Wentworth Higginson</span>. Illustrated. $1.50.</p> + +<div class="hang1">The story of our country in the most reliable and interesting form. As a +story-book it easily leads all other American history stories in interest, while as +a text-book for the study of history it is universally admitted to be the best.</div> + + +<div class='unindent'><br /><span class="u"><b><i>Young Folks' Book of American Explorers</i></b></span></div> + +<div class="hang1">By <span class="smcap">Thomas Wentworth Higginson</span>. Uniform with the "Young Folks' +History of the United States." One volume, fully illustrated. Price $1.50.</div> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"It is not a history told in the third person, nor an historical novel for young +folks, where the author supposes the chief characters to have thought and said +such and such things under such and such circumstances; but it is the genuine +description given by the persons who experienced the things they described in +letters written home."—<i>Montpelier Journal.</i></p></div> + + +<div class='unindent'><br /><span class="u"><b><i>The Nation in a Nutshell</i></b></span></div> + +<div class="hang1">By <span class="smcap">George Makepeace Towle</span>, author of "Heroes of History," "Young +Folks' History of England," "Young Folks' History of Ireland," etc. +Price 50 cents.</div> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"To tell the story of a nation like ours in a nutshell, requires a peculiar +faculty for selecting, condensing, and philosophizing. The brevity with which +he relates the principal events in American history, does not detract from the +charming interest of the narrative style."—<i>Public Opinion.</i></p></div> + + +<div class='unindent'><br /><span class="u"><b><i>Young People's History of England</i></b></span></div> + +<div class="hang1">By <span class="smcap">George Makepeace Towle</span>. Cloth, illustrated. $1.50.</div> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"The whole narrative is made interesting and attractive—in every way +what a book of this kind should be in its clearness of statement, freshness of +style, and its telling of the right ways."—<i>Critic.</i></p></div> + + +<div class='unindent'><br /><span class="u"><b><i>Handbook of English History</i></b></span></div> + +<div class="hang1">Based on "Lectures on English History," by the late <span class="smcap">M. J. Guest</span>, and +brought down to the year 1880. With a Supplementary Chapter on the +English Literature of the 19th Century. By <span class="smcap">F. H. Underwood, LL.D</span>. +With Maps, Chronological Table, etc. $1.50.</div> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"It approaches nearer perfection than anything in the line we have seen. +It is succinct, accurate, and delightful."—<i>Hartford Evening Post.</i></p></div> + + +<div class='unindent'><br /><span class="u"><b><i>Young People's History of Ireland</i></b></span></div> + +<div class="hang1">By <span class="smcap">George Makepeace Towle</span>, author of "Young People's History of +England," "Young Folks' Heroes of History," etc. With an introduction +by <span class="smcap">John Boyle O'Reilly</span>. Cloth, illustrated. $1.50.</div> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"The history is like a novel, increasing in interest to the very end, and +terminating at the most interesting period of the whole; and the reader lays +down the book a moment in enthusiastic admiration for a people who have +endured so much, and yet have retained so many admirable characteristics."—<i>N.Y. +World.</i></p></div> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class='center'> +<i>Sold by all booksellers, and sent by mail, postpaid, on receipt of price</i><br /> +<b>LEE AND SHEPARD Publishers Boston</b><br /> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_377" id="Page_377">[377]</a></span></p> +<h1><span class="u"><span class="smcap">Young Folks'</span></span>———<br /> + +——<span class="u"><span class="smcap">Books of Travel</span></span></h1> + +<hr style="width: 25%;" /> + +<div class="hang1"><b>DRIFTING ROUND THE WORLD; A Boy's Adventures by +Sea and Land</b></div> + +<div class="hang1">By <span class="smcap">Capt. Charles W. Hall</span>, author of "Adrift in the Ice-Fields," "The +Great Bonanza," etc. With numerous full-page and letter-press illustrations. +Royal 8vo. Handsome cover. $1.75. Cloth, gilt, $2.50.</div> + +<p>"Out of the beaten track" in its course of travel, record of adventures, +and descriptions of life in Greenland, Labrador, Ireland, Scotland, England, +France, Holland, Russia, Asia, Siberia, and Alaska. Its hero is young, bold, +and adventurous; and the book is in every way interesting and attractive.</p> + + +<div class='center'><br /><b><i>EDWARD GRÉEY'S JAPANESE SERIES</i></b></div> + + +<div class='hang1'><b>YOUNG AMERICANS IN JAPAN; or, The Adventures of the +Jewett Family and their Friend Oto Nambo</b></div> + +<div class="hang1">With 170 full-page and letter-press illustrations. Royal 8vo, 7 × 9½ inches. +Handsomely illuminated cover, $1.75. Cloth, black and gold, $2.50.</div> + +<p>This story, though essentially a work of fiction, is filled with interesting and +truthful descriptions of the curious ways of living of the good people of the +land of the rising sun.</p> + + +<div class='hang1'><b>THE WONDERFUL CITY OF TOKIO; or, The Further Adventures +of the Jewett Family and their Friend Oto Nambo</b></div> + +<div class="hang1">With 169 illustrations. Royal 8vo, 7 × 9½ inches. With cover in gold and +colors, designed by the author, $1.75. Cloth, black and gold, $2.50.</div> + +<p>"A book full of delightful information. The author has the happy gift of +permitting the reader to view things as he saw them. The illustrations are +mostly drawn by a Japanese artist, and are very unique."—<i>Chicago Herald.</i></p> + + +<div class='hang1'><b>THE BEAR WORSHIPPERS OF YEZO AND THE ISLAND +OF KARAFUTO; being the further Adventures of the +Jewett Family and their Friend Oto Nambo</b></div> + +<div class="hang1">180 illustrations. Boards, $1.75. Cloth, $2.50.</div> + +<p>Graphic pen and pencil pictures of the remarkable bearded people who live +in the north of Japan. The illustrations are by native Japanese artists, and +give queer pictures of a queer people, who have been seldom visited.</p> + + +<div class='center'><br /><b><i>HARRY W. FRENCH'S BOOKS</i></b></div> + + +<div class='hang1'><b>OUR BOYS IN INDIA</b></div> + +<div class="hang1">The wanderings of two young Americans in Hindustan, with their exciting +adventures on the sacred rivers and wild mountains. With 145 illustrations. +Royal 8vo, 7 × 9½ inches. Bound in emblematic covers of Oriental design, +$1.75. Cloth, black and gold, $2.50.</div> + +<p>While it has all the exciting interest of a romance, it is remarkably vivid in +its pictures of manners and customs in the land of the Hindu. The illustrations +are many and excellent.</p> + + +<div class='hang1'><b>OUR BOYS IN CHINA</b></div> + +<div class="hang1">The adventures of two young Americans, wrecked in the China Sea on their +return from India, with their strange wanderings through the Chinese +Empire. 188 illustrations. Boards, ornamental covers in colors and gold, +$1.75. Cloth, $2.50.</div> + +<p>This gives the further adventures of "Our Boys" of India fame in the land +of Teas and Queues.</p> + +<hr style="width: 25%;" /> + +<div class='center'> +<i>Sold by all booksellers, and sent by mail, postpaid, on receipt of price</i><br /> +<b>LEE AND SHEPARD Publishers Boston</b><br /> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_378" id="Page_378">[378]</a></span></p> +<h1><span class="u"><span class="smcap">Irene E. Jerome's</span></span> · · · ·<br /> + +· · · · · · <span class="u"><span class="smcap">Art Books</span></span></h1> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="hang1"><b>IN A FAIR COUNTRY.</b> With 55 full-page illustrations; engraved +by Andrew. Nearly 100 pages of text, by Thomas Wentworth +Higginson. Gold cloth, full gilt, $6.00; Turkey morocco, $15.00; +tree calf, $15.00; English seal style, $10.00.</div> + +<p>Miss Jerome has caught the very glamour of the woodland and the lea +with her pencil, transferring it to paper with the delicacy of an exquisite +photograph, while Colonel Higginson's delightful style brings out the +beauty of his topics most satisfactorily. As a specimen of the book-maker's +art, the volume leaves nothing to be asked.</p> + + +<div class="hang1"><b>A BUNCH OF VIOLETS.</b> Original illustrations, engraved on +wood and printed under the direction of <span class="smcap">George T. Andrew</span>. 4to, cloth, +$3.75: Turkey morocco, $9.00; tree calf, $9.00; English seal style, $7.00.</div> + +<p>The new volume is akin to the former triumphs of this favorite artist, whose +"Sketch Books" have achieved a popularity unequalled in the history of fine +art publications. In the profusion of designs, originality, and delicacy of +treatment, the charming sketches of mountain, meadow, lake, and forest +scenery of New England here reproduced are unexcelled. After the wealth of +illustration which this student of nature has poured into the lap of art, to produce +a volume in which there is no deterioration of power or beauty, but, if +possible, increased strength and enlargement of ideas, gives assurance that the +foremost female artist in America will hold the hearts of her legion of admirers.</p> + + +<div class="hang1"><b>NATURE'S HALLELUJAH.</b> Presented in a series of nearly +fifty full-page original illustrations (9½ x 14 inches), engraved on wood by +<span class="smcap">George T. Andrew</span>. Elegantly bound in gold cloth, full gilt, gilt edges, +$6.00; Turkey morocco, $15.00; tree calf, $15.00; English seal style, $10.00.</div> + +<p>This volume has won the most cordial praise on both sides of the water. +Mr. Francis H. Underwood, U. S. Consul at Glasgow, writes concerning it: +"I have never seen anything superior, if equal, to the delicacy and finish of +the engravings, and the perfection of the press-work. The copy you sent me +has been looked over with evident and unfeigned delight by many people of +artistic taste. Every one frankly says, 'It is impossible to produce such +effects here,' and, whether it is possible or not, I am sure it is <i>not done;</i> no +such effects are produced on this side of the Atlantic. In this combination of +art and workmanship, the United States leads the world; and you have a right +to be proud of the honor of presenting such a specimen to the public."</p> + + +<div class="hang1"><b>ONE YEAR'S SKETCH BOOK.</b> Containing forty-six full-page +original illustrations, engraved on wood by <span class="smcap">Andrew</span>; in same bindings +and at same prices as "Nature's Hallelujah."</div> + +<p>"Every thick, creamy page is embellished by some gems of art. Sometimes +it is but a dash and a few trembling strokes; at others an impressive landscape, +but in all and through all runs the master touch. Miss Jerome has the genius +of an Angelo, and the execution of a Guido. The beauty of the sketches will +be apparent to all, having been taken from our unrivalled New England +scenery."—<i>Washington Chronicle.</i></p> + + +<div class="hang1"><b>THE MESSAGE OF THE BLUEBIRD, Told to Me +to Tell to Others.</b> Original illustrations engraved on wood by +<span class="smcap">Andrew</span>. Cloth and gold, $2.00; palatine boards, ribbon ornaments, $1.00.</div> + +<p>"In its new bindings is one of the daintiest combinations of song and illustration +ever published, exhibiting in a marked degree the fine poetic taste and +wonderfully artistic touch which render this author's works so popular. The +pictures are exquisite, and the verses exceedingly graceful, appealing to the +highest sensibilities. The little volume ranks among the choicest of holiday +souvenirs, and is beautiful and pleasing."—<i>Boston Transcript.</i></p> + + +<hr style="width: 25%;" /> + +<div class='center'> +<i>Sold by all booksellers, and sent by mail, postpaid, on receipt of price</i><br /> +<b>LEE AND SHEPARD Publishers Boston</b><br /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_379" id="Page_379">[379]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h1> +<span class="u"><span class="smcap">Lee and</span></span> * * <span class="u"><span class="smcap">Seventy-five cent</span></span> *<br /> +* <span class="u"><span class="smcap">Shepard's</span></span> * <span class="u"><span class="smcap">Juveniles</span></span><br /> +</h1> + +<div class='center'><i>Comprising new editions of the following popular Juveniles Bound in +best English cloth bright colors Any volume sold separately</i></div> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class='hang1'><b>CHARLEY AND EVA STORIES</b> By Miss L. C. <span class="smcap">Thurston</span></div> + +<div> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><b>How Charley Roberts became a Man</b></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><b>How Eva Roberts gained her Education</b></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><b>Home in the West</b></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><b>Children of Amity Court</b></span><br /> +</div> + +<p>Miss Thurston writes with a purpose. She is an admirer of manly boys +and womanly girls, and so carries her characters through scenes and +situations that elevate and purify. The books are by no means slow, +being full of adventures.</p> + + +<div class='hang1'><b>GOLDEN PROVERB SERIES</b> By Mrs. M. E. <span class="smcap">Bradley</span> +and Miss <span class="smcap">Kate J. Neely</span></div> + +<div> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><b>Birds of a Feather</b></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><b>Fine Feathers do not make Fine Birds</b></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><b>Handsome is that Handsome Does</b></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><b>A Wrong Confessed is Half Redressed</b></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><b>One Good Turn deserves Another</b></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><b>Actions Speak Louder than Words</b></span><br /> +</div> + +<p>Two capital story-tellers, "birds of a feather," have flocked together, +and produced from six old proverbs six as bright and taking story-books +as ever gladdened the hearts of Young America; showing, indeed, that +"handsome is that handsome does."</p> + + +<div class='hang1'><b>GOLDEN RULE STORIES</b> By Mrs. S. C. B. <span class="smcap">Samuels</span></div> + + +<div> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><b>The Golden Rule</b></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><b>The Shipwrecked Girl</b></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><b>Under the Sea</b></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><b>Nettie's Trial</b></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><b>The Burning Prairie</b></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><b>The Smuggler's Cave</b></span><br /> +<br /></div> + + + +<div class='hang1'><b>CELESTA'S LIBRARY for Boys and Girls</b></div> + +<div> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><b>Celesta</b></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><b>Crooked and Straight</b></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><b>The Crook Straightened</b></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><b>A Thousand a Year</b></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><b>Abel Grey</b></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><b>May Coverley</b></span><br /> +</div> + +<p>Mrs. Samuels has written many attractive books. The scenes and +incidents she portrays are full of life, action, and interest, and decidedly +wholesome and instructive.</p> + + +<div class='hang1'><b>SALT-WATER DICK STORIES</b> By <span class="smcap">May Mannering</span></div> + +<div> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><b>Climbing the Rope</b></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><b>Billy Grimes's Favorite</b></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><b>Cruise of the Dashaway</b></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><b>The Little Spaniard</b></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><b>Salt-Water Dick</b></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><b>Little Maid of Oxbow</b></span><br /> +</div> + +<p>Not all tales of the sea, as the title of the series would imply, but stories +of many lands by a lady who has been a great traveller, and tells what she +has seen, in a captivating way.</p> + + +<div class='hang1'><b>UPSIDE-DOWN STORIES</b> By <span class="smcap">Rosa Abbott</span></div> + +<div> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><b>Jack of all Trades</b></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><b>Alexis the Runaway</b></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><b>Tommy Hickup</b></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><b>Upside Down</b></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><b>The Young Detective</b></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><b>The Pinks and Blues</b></span><br /><br /> +</div> + + +<div class='hang1'><b>VACATION STORIES for Boys and Girls</b> 6 vols. +Illustrated</div> + +<div> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><b>Worth not Wealth</b></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><b>Country Life</b></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><b>The Charm</b></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><b>Karl Keigler or The Fortunes of a Foundling</b></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><b>Walter Seyton</b></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><b>Holidays at Chestnut Hill</b></span><br /><br /> +</div> + + +<div class='hang1'><b>GREAT ROSY DIAMOND STORIES for Girls</b> +6 vols. Illustrated</div> + +<div> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><b>The Great Rosy Diamond</b></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><b>Daisy or The Fairy Spectacles</b></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><b>Violet a Fairy Story</b></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><b>Minnie or The Little Woman</b></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><b>The Angel Children</b></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><b>Little Blossom's Reward</b></span><br /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 25%;" /> + +<div class='center'> +<i>Sold by all booksellers, and sent by mail, postpaid, on receipt of price</i><br /> +<b>LEE AND SHEPARD Publishers Boston</b><br /> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_380" id="Page_380">[380]</a></span></p> + + + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='left'><h1><span class="u">NARRATIVES</span></h1></td><td align='left'><h3>· OF · NOTED——<br /> +———TRAVELLERS</h3></td></tr> +</table></div> + + + +<div class='hang1'><b>GERMANY SEEN WITHOUT SPECTACLES; or, Random +Sketches of Various Subjects, Penned from Different Standpoints +in the Empire</b></div> + +<div class='hang1'>By <span class="smcap">Henry Ruggles</span>, late United States Consul at the Island of Malta, and +at Barcelona, Spain. $1.50.</div> + +<p>"Mr. Ruggles writes briskly: he chats and gossips, slashing right and left +with stout American prejudices, and has made withal a most entertaining +book."—<i>New-York Tribune.</i></p> + + +<div class='hang1'><b>TRAVELS AND OBSERVATIONS IN THE ORIENT, with a +Hasty Flight in the Countries of Europe</b></div> + +<div class='hang1'>By <span class="smcap">Walter Harriman</span> (ex-Governor of New Hampshire). $1.50.</div> + +<p>"The author, in his graphic description of these sacred localities, refers +with great aptness to scenes and personages which history has made famous. +It is a chatty narrative of travel."—<i>Concord Monitor.</i></p> + + +<div class='hang1'><b>FORE AND AFT</b></div> + +<div class='hang1'>A Story of Actual Sea-Life. By <span class="smcap">Robert B. Dixon</span>, M.D. $1.25.</div> + +<p>Travels in Mexico, with vivid descriptions of manners and customs, form a +large part of this striking narrative of a fourteen-months' voyage.</p> + + +<div class='hang1'><b>VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE</b></div> + +<div class='hang1'>A Geographical Journey of Twenty-five Hundred Miles from Quebec to the +Gulf of Mexico. By <span class="smcap">Nathaniel H. Bishop</span>. With numerous illustrations +and maps specially prepared for this work. Crown 8vo. $1.50.</div> + +<p>"Mr. Bishop did a very bold thing, and has described it with a happy +mixture of spirit, keen observation, and <i>bonhomie</i>."—<i>London Graphic.</i></p> + + +<div class='hang1'><b>FOUR MONTHS IN A SNEAK-BOX</b></div> + +<div class='hang1'>A Boat Voyage of Twenty-six Hundred Miles down the Ohio and Mississippi +Rivers, and along the Gulf of Mexico. By <span class="smcap">Nathaniel H. Bishop</span>. With +numerous maps and illustrations. $1.50.</div> + +<p>"His glowing pen-pictures of 'shanty-boat' life on the great rivers are +true to life. His descriptions of persons and places are graphic."—<i>Zion's +Herald.</i></p> + + +<div class='hang1'><b>A THOUSAND MILES' WALK ACROSS SOUTH AMERICA, +Over the Pampas and the Andes</b></div> + +<div class='hang1'>By <span class="smcap">Nathaniel H. Bishop</span>. Crown 8vo. New edition. Illustrated. $1.50.</div> + +<p>"Mr. Bishop made this journey when a boy of sixteen, has never forgotten +it, and tells it in such a way that the reader will always remember it, and +wish there had been more."</p> + + +<div class='hang1'><b>CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES</b></div> + +<div class='hang1'>Being the Adventures of a Naturalist Bird-hunting in the West-India Islands. +By <span class="smcap">Fred A. Ober</span>. New edition. With maps and illustrations. $1.50.</div> + +<p>"During two years he visited mountains, forests, and people, that few, if +any, tourists had ever reached before. He carried his camera with him, and +photographed from nature the scenes by which the book is illustrated."—<i>Louisville +Courier-Journal.</i></p> + + +<div class='hang1'><b>ENGLAND FROM A BACK WINDOW; With Views of +Scotland and Ireland</b></div> + +<div class='hang1'>By J. M. <span class="smcap">Bailey</span>, the "'Danbury News' Man." 12mo. $1.00.</div> + +<p>"The peculiar humor of this writer is well known. The British Isles have +never before been looked at in just the same way,—at least, not by any one +who has notified us of the fact. Mr. Bailey's travels possess, accordingly, a +value of their own for the reader, no matter how many previous records of +journeys in the mother country he may have read."—<i>Rochester Express.</i></p> + + +<hr style="width: 42%;" /> + +<div class='center'> +<i>Sold by all booksellers, and sent by mail, postpaid, on receipt of price</i><br /> +<b>LEE AND SHEPARD Publishers Boston</b><br /> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_381" id="Page_381">[381]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/bright.jpg" width="600" height="108" alt="Bright and Breezy Books of Travel by Six Bright Women" title="" /> +</div> + + +<div class='hang1'><b>MEXICO—PICTURESQUE, POLITICAL, PROGRESSIVE</b></div> + +<div class='hang1'>By <span class="smcap">Mary E. Blake</span> and <span class="smcap">Margaret F. Sullivan</span>. Cloth, $1.25.</div> + +<p>"This is a very charming volume. The writers went through the +country with their eyes wide open, and they have the faculty of interesting +others in what was of interest to them."</p> + + +<div class='hang1'><b>A WINTER IN CENTRAL AMERICA AND MEXICO</b></div> + +<div class='hang1'>By <span class="smcap">Helen J. Sanborn</span>. Cloth, $1.50.</div> + +<p>"A bright, attractive narrative by a wide-awake Boston girl."</p> + + +<div class='hang1'><b>A SUMMER IN THE AZORES, with a Glimpse of Madeira</b></div> + +<div class='hang1'>By Miss C. <span class="smcap">Alice Baker</span>. Little Classic style. Cloth, gilt edges, $1.25.</div> + +<p>"Miss Baker gives us a breezy, entertaining description of these picturesque +islands. She is an observing traveller, and makes a graphic picture of the +quaint people and customs."—<i>Chicago Advance.</i></p> + + +<div class='hang1'><b>LIFE AT PUGET SOUND</b></div> + +<div class='hang1'>With sketches of travel in Washington Territory, British Columbia, Oregon, +and California. By <span class="smcap">Caroline C. Leighton</span>. 16mo, cloth, $1.50.</div> + +<p>"Your chapters on Puget Sound have charmed me. Full of life, deeply +interesting, and with just that class of facts, and suggestions of truth, that +cannot fail to help the Indian and the Chinese."—<span class="smcap">Wendell Phillips.</span></p> + + +<div class='hang1'><b>EUROPEAN BREEZES</b></div> + +<div class='hang1'>By <span class="smcap">Margery Deane</span>. Cloth, gilt top, $1.50. Being chapters of travel +through Germany, Austria, Hungary, and Switzerland, covering places not +usually visited by Americans in making "the Grand Tour of the Continent," +by the accomplished writer of "Newport Breezes."</div> + +<p>"A very bright, fresh and amusing account, which tells us about a host of +things we never heard of before, and is worth two ordinary books of European +travel."—<i>Woman's Journal.</i></p> + + +<div class='hang1'><b>BEATEN PATHS; or, A Woman's Vacation in Europe</b></div> + +<div class='hang1'>By <span class="smcap">Ella W. Thompson</span>. 16mo, cloth. $1.50.</div> + +<p>A lively and chatty book of travel, with pen-pictures humorous and graphic, +that are decidedly out of the "beaten paths" of description.</p> + + +<div class='hang1'><b>AN AMERICAN GIRL ABROAD</b></div> + +<div class='hang1'>By Miss <span class="smcap">Adeline Trafton</span>, author of "His Inheritance," "Katherine +Earle," etc. 16mo. Illustrated. $1.50.</div> + +<p>"A sparkling account of a European trip by a wide-awake, intelligent, and +irrepressible American girl. Pictured with a freshness and vivacity that is +delightful."—<i>Utica Observer.</i></p> + + +<h3><i>CURTIS GUILD'S TRAVELS</i></h3> + + +<div class='hang1'><b>BRITONS AND MUSCOVITES; or, Traits of Two Empires</b></div> + +<div class='hang1'>Cloth, $2.00.<br /><br /></div> + + +<div class='hang1'><b>OVER THE OCEAN; or, Sights and Scenes in Foreign Lands</b></div> + +<div class='hang1'>By <span class="smcap">Curtis Guild</span>, editor of "The Boston Commercial Bulletin." Crown 8vo. +Cloth, $2.50.</div> + +<p>"The utmost that any European tourist can hope to do is to tell the old +story in a somewhat fresh way, and Mr. Guild has succeeded in every part of +his book in doing this."—<i>Philadelphia Bulletin</i>.</p> + + +<div class='hang1'><b>ABROAD AGAIN; or, Fresh Forays in Foreign Fields</b></div> + +<div class='hang1'>Uniform with "Over the Ocean." By the same author. Crown 8vo. +Cloth $2.50.</div> + +<p>"He has given us a life-picture. Europe is done in a style that must serve +as an invaluable guide to those who go 'over the ocean,' as well as an interesting +companion."—<i>Halifax Citizen.</i></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class='center'> +<i>Sold by all booksellers, and sent by mail, postpaid, on receipt of price</i><br /> +<b>LEE AND SHEPARD Publishers Boston</b><br /> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_382" id="Page_382">[382]</a></span></p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/heroes.png" width="600" height="140" alt="YOUNG FOLKS HEROES OF HISTORY" title="" /> +</div> + +<div class='center'> +By GEORGE MAKEPEACE TOWLE.<br /> +Handsomely Illustrated. Price per vol., $1.25. Sets in neat boxes.<br /><br /> +</div> + + +<div class='center'><b>VASCO DA GAMA:</b><br /> + +HIS VOYAGES AND ADVENTURES.</div> + +<p>"Da Gama's history is full of striking adventures, thrilling incidents, and +perilous situations; and Mr. Towle, while not sacrificing historical accuracy, +has so skilfully used his materials, that we have a charmingly romantic tale."—<i>Rural +New-Yorker.</i></p> + + +<div class='center'><b>PIZARRO:</b><br /> + +HIS ADVENTURES AND CONQUESTS.</div> + +<p>"No hero of romance possesses greater power to charm the youthful reader +than the conqueror of Peru. Not even King Arthur, or Thaddeus of Warsaw, +has the power to captivate the imagination of the growing boy. Mr. +Towle has handled his subject in a glowing but truthful manner; and we +venture the assertion, that, were our children led to read such books as this, +the taste for unwholesome, exciting, wrong-teaching boys' books—dime +novels in books' clothing—would be greatly diminished, to the great gain of +mental force and moral purpose in the rising generation."—<i>Chicago Alliance.</i></p> + + +<div class='center'><b>MAGELLAN;</b><br /> + +OR, THE FIRST VOYAGE ROUND THE WORLD.</div> + +<p>"What more of romantic and spirited adventures any bright boy could +want than is to be found in this series of historical biography, it is difficult +to imagine. This volume is written in a most sprightly manner; and the +life of its hero, Fernan Magellan, with its rapid stride from the softness of +a petted youth to the sturdy courage and persevering fortitude of manhood, +makes a tale of marvellous fascination."—<i>Christian Union.</i></p> + + +<div class='center'><b>MARCO POLO:</b><br /> + +HIS TRAVELS AND ADVENTURES.</div> + +<p>"The story of the adventurous Venetian, who six hundred years ago penetrated +into India and Cathay and Thibet and Abyssinia, is pleasantly and +clearly told; and nothing better can be put into the hands of the school boy +or girl than this series of the records of noted travellers. The heroism displayed +by these men was certainly as great as that ever shown by conquering +warrior; and it was exercised in a far nobler cause,—the cause of knowledge +and discovery, which has made the nineteenth century what it is."—<i>Graphic.</i></p> + + +<div class='center'><b>RALEGH:</b><br /> + +HIS EXPLOITS AND VOYAGES.</div> + +<p>"This belongs to the 'Young Folks' Heroes of History' series, and deals +with a greater and more interesting man than any of its predecessors. With +all the black spots on his fame, there are few more brilliant and striking +figures in English history than the soldier, sailor, courtier, author, and explorer, +Sir Walter Ralegh. Even at this distance of time, more than two +hundred and fifty years after his head fell on the scaffold, we cannot read his +story without emotion. It is graphically written, and is pleasant reading, +not only for young folks, but for old folks with young hearts."—<i>Woman's +Journal.</i></p> + + +<div class='center'><b>DRAKE:</b><br /> + +THE SEA-LION OF DEVON.</div> + +<p>Drake was the foremost sea-captain of his age, the first English admiral +to send a ship completely round the world, the hero of the magnificent +victory which the English won over the Invincible Armada. His career was +stirring, bold, and adventurous, from early youth to old age.</p> + +<div class='right'> +<b>LEE AND SHEPARD, Publishers, Boston.</b><br /> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_383" id="Page_383">[383]</a></span></p> +<h2><big>B</big><span class='u'>OOKS OF PARTICULAR INTEREST</span> · · · ·<br /> +· · · · · <span class='u'>TO <big>Y</big>OUNG MEN AND WOMEN</span></h2> + + +<p><b>HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW</b></p> + +<div class="hang1">His Life, His Works, His Friendships. By <span class="smcap">George Lowell Austin</span>. +Profusely illustrated. Cloth, $2.00. New edition. Formerly published by +subscription.</div> + +<p>"We have here a clear and popular presentation of the poet's literary life. +The details of his personal and private life, or at least so much of it as belongs +by right strictly to his family, has been avoided, and that properly. What the +public have a right to know is found in this volume, in a style that is easy and +pleasing. Here you have Longfellow as a child, as a college student, and as +a professor in Bowdoin College; and especially does he appear here as a man +of letters. It is a charming volume."—<i>Christian Standard.</i></p> + + +<p><b>LIFE AND TIMES OF WENDELL PHILLIPS</b></p> + +<div class="hang1">By <span class="smcap">George Lowell Austin</span>. With steel portrait and illustrations. Cloth, +$1.50. New edition. The only complete Life of the great agitator.</div> + +<p>"The life of a man who was so strongly identified with one of the most +stirring periods in American history must necessarily be one of much interest, +and Mr. Austin has succeeded in presenting its features in a very attractive +way. Portions of Mr. Phillips's most important public addresses are given, +and there are reminiscences of the man by some of his close friends and associates."—<i>Philadelphia +Record.</i></p> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Wendell Phillips books"> +<tr><td align='left'>Wendell Phillips's Lectures, Orations, and Letters, to 1861. 563 pages.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Library edition. 8vo</span></td><td align='right'>$2 50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Popular edition, with Biographical Sketch,</span> 16mo</td><td align='right'>1 00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Scholar in a Republic. Paper, 8vo</td><td align='right'>25</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Eulogy of Garrison. Paper, 8vo</td><td align='right'>25</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Lost Arts. Paper, 8vo</td><td align='right'>25</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Daniel O'Connell. Paper, 8vo</td><td align='right'>25</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Labor Question. Paper, 8vo</td><td align='right'>25</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p><b>LIFE AND DEEDS OF GENERAL U. S. GRANT</b></p> + +<div class="hang1">By Rev. P. C. <span class="smcap">Headley</span> and <span class="smcap">George Lowell Austin</span>. Profusely illustrated. +Cloth, $1.50.</div> + +<p>The materials for the early years of the subject of this popular biography +were furnished by the immediate friends and relatives of his family. The +events bearing upon the war history are based upon the recognized authorities, +and will stand the test of military criticism. The work is intensely interesting, +and exceedingly popular.</p> + + +<p><b>Oliver Optic's OUR STANDARD BEARER</b></p> + +<div class="hang1">Or the Life of General <span class="smcap">Ulysses S. Grant</span>, his youth, his manhood, his campaign, +and his eminent services in the reconstruction of the nation his sword +has redeemed, as seen and related by Captain <span class="smcap">Bernard Gallygasken</span>, Cosmopolitan, +and written out by <span class="smcap">Oliver Optic</span>. <i>A new edition</i>, with supplementary +chapters, containing the political life of the general, his travels +abroad, his sickness and death. Cloth; illustrated by <span class="smcap">Thomas Nast</span> and +others, elegantly bound, $1.50.</div> + +<p>"It is written in Mr. Adams's happiest vein, and is a most unique and +interesting presentation of a subject upon which volumes have been written +and read."</p> + + +<hr style="width: 25%;" /> + +<div class='center'> +<i>Sold by all booksellers, and sent by mail, postpaid, on receipt of price</i><br /> +<b>LEE AND SHEPARD Publishers Boston</b><br /> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_384" id="Page_384">[384]</a></span></p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/popular.png" width="600" height="112" alt="POPULAR READING FOR HOME AND SCHOOL" title="" /> +</div> + +<div class='center'>BY POPULAR AUTHORS</div> + + +<div class='center'><b>JANE ANDREWS' BOOKS</b></div> + +<div class="unindent"><b>THE SEVEN LITTLE SISTERS WHO LIVE ON THE ROUND BALL THAT FLOATS IN THE AIR</b></div> + +<div class="hang1">New edition, with an introduction by <span class="smcap">Louisa Parsons Hopkins</span> Illustrated +School edition cloth 50 cents Library edition cloth 80 cents</div> + + +<div class="unindent"><b>THE SEVEN LITTLE SISTERS PROVE THEIR SISTERHOOD (Former title EACH AND ALL)</b></div> + +<div class="hang1">Illustrated School edition cloth 50 cents Library edition cloth 80 cents</div> + + +<div class="unindent"><b>TEN BOYS WHO LIVED ON THE ROAD FROM LONG AGO TO NOW</b></div> + +<div class="hang1">20 illustrations Cloth 80 cents</div> + + +<div class="unindent"><b>GEOGRAPHICAL PLAYS FOR YOUNG FOLKS AT SCHOOL AND AT HOME</b></div> + +<div class="hang1">Price each play in paper 15 cents postage paid 1 United States 2 Europe +3 Asia 4 Africa and South America 5 Australia and Isles of the Sea +6 The Commerce of the World</div> + +<div class="hang1">The above bound in one volume Cloth $1.00 postage paid</div> + +<hr style="width: 25%;" /> + +<div class="unindent"><b>GRADED SUPPLEMENTARY READING</b></div> + +<div class="hang1">For use in schools By Professor <span class="smcap">Tweed</span>, late Supervisor of Boston Public +Schools 12 parts ready: Nos. 1, 4, 7 and 10, 1st year primary; Nos. +2, 5, 8 and 11, 2d year primary; Nos. 3, 6, 9 and 12, 3d year primary +In brown paper covers 4 cents each: by mail 5 cents The four parts for +each year bound together in boards 20 cents each First year primary +in one volume boards 20 cents Second year primary in one volume +boards 20 cents Third year primary in one volume boards 20 cents</div> + + +<h3>HISTORICAL READINGS</h3> + + +<div class="unindent"><b>YOUNG FOLKS' HISTORY OF THE UNITED STATES</b></div> + +<div class="hang1">By <span class="smcap">Thomas Wentworth Higginson</span> With over 100 illustrations $1.20</div> + + +<div class="unindent"><b>YOUNG FOLKS' BOOK OF AMERICAN EXPLORERS</b></div> + +<div class="hang1">By <span class="smcap">Thomas Wentworth Higginson</span> Illustrated $1.20</div> + + +<div class="unindent"><b>HANDBOOK OF ENGLISH HISTORY</b></div> + +<div class="hang1">Based on Guest's "Lectures on English History," and brought down to the +year 1880 With a Supplementary Chapter on the English Literature of +the 19th Century By <span class="smcap">F. H. Underwood</span>, LL.D. With maps, chronological +tables etc. School edition 90 cents</div> + + +<div class="unindent"><b>YOUNG PEOPLE'S HISTORY OF ENGLAND</b></div> + +<div class="hang1">By <span class="smcap">George Makepeace Towle</span> Illustrated School edition 60 cents</div> + + +<div class="unindent"><b>YOUNG PEOPLE'S HISTORY OF IRELAND</b></div> + +<div class="hang1">By <span class="smcap">George Makepeace Towle</span> With introduction by <span class="smcap">John Boyle +O'Reilly</span> Illustrated School edition 60 cents</div> + + +<div class='unindent'><b>HEROES OF HISTORY</b> By <span class="smcap">George Makepeace Towle</span> Illustrated</div> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Vasco de Gama: his Voyages and Adventures School edition 60 cents</p> + +<p>Pizarro: his Adventures and Conquests School edition 60 cents</p> + +<p>Magellan: or The First Voyage Round the World School edition 60 cents</p> + +<p>Marco Polo: his Travels and Adventures School edition 60 cents</p> + +<p>Raleigh: his Voyages and Adventures School edition 60 cents</p> + +<p>Drake the Sea King of Devon School edition 60 cents</p></div> + + +<div class='unindent'><b>THE STORY OF OUR COUNTRY</b> By Mrs. <span class="smcap">L. B. Monroe</span> 80 cents</div> + + + +<div class='center'> +<i>Sold by all booksellers, and sent by mail, postpaid, on receipt of price</i><br /> +<b>LEE AND SHEPARD Publishers Boston</b><br /> +</div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class='tnote'><h3>Transcriber's Notes:</h3> +<p>Obvious punctuation errors repaired.</p> +<p>Varied hyphenation was retained.</p> + +<p>The spelling of "Ralegh: His Exploits" is actually the title of the book by Towle.</p> +<p>The remaining corrections made are indicated by dotted lines under the corrections. Scroll the mouse over the word and the original text will <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'apprear'">appear</ins>.</p></div> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30436 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/30436-h/images/bright.jpg b/30436-h/images/bright.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b5f75ee --- /dev/null +++ b/30436-h/images/bright.jpg diff --git a/30436-h/images/cover.jpg b/30436-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..462b29e --- /dev/null +++ b/30436-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/30436-h/images/heroes.png b/30436-h/images/heroes.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..bb8ad00 --- /dev/null +++ b/30436-h/images/heroes.png diff --git a/30436-h/images/popular.png b/30436-h/images/popular.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..58083ce --- /dev/null +++ b/30436-h/images/popular.png |
